Everything is green in Vermont.  Impressively, 80% of the state is covered in lush forest.  The licence plate is green, the signs are green, the frequent huge solar panel farms tell us the state is green, the national forest is called….wait for it…Green Mountain National Forest.  Most people live in small rural towns which feature huge green lawns and expansive green trees above.  It’s a definite theme.

We followed rolling green hills through tiny little quaint towns to the ski mecca of Stowe in northern Vermont.  From here we followed green Hwy 100 south along the White River (sorry, not green), mile after beautiful mile, through narrow gullies, open green plains, weaving past high mountains covered in an endless supply of broadleaf trees until finally we made it to the little town of Quechee.  We walked along the edges of the deep and narrow Quechee Gorge, formed by glaciers 13,000 years ago and now featuring a raging Ottauquechee River (not a typo), and camped under the fresh green trees nearby.  We felt very comfortable and at home in Vermont.

But Vermont is also known for its covered bridges and the next day we were on a mission to see a few of these old and cherished structures.  Wooden bridges were usually covered to protect them from the snow in the winter and most of them originated from the late 1800’s, although almost all of them have since had maintenance or repairs after storms.

What we loved about these covered bridges is that they were all so different, in their engineering features, in their wooden roof, their architecture styles, windows, driving boards, arches, you name it.  Some were for private use, others on small side roads but some were in the middle of towns with constant use and one of them – the longest covered bridge in the US – crossed the Connecticut River and took us from Vermont to New Hampshire.

We also spent time in the little town of Woodstock (not that Woodstock, this one was in Vermont) which had so much charm and character with its old buildings, cool village green, covered bridge and quaint shops that Julie said if we had to live in Vermont (not such a hardship) we definitely would want to live in Woodstock.  We later found out Woodstock was once voted the prettiest small town in America. We can’t argue with that.

Everything about Vermont was small, green, beautifully cared for and easy going.  We saw a policeman pull over his car and change a lady’s flat tire.  It’s that sort of place.  I reckon the people of Vermont know they have this fabulous secret life and can’t figure why everyone else is doing something else.  The state has only 600,000 people and all the towns we visited were modest in size and modest in pace.  We gave Vermont top marks.

New Hampshire, which is more or less the same size, has twice as many people and we could feel the difference immediately.  The roads were busier, there was more activity in the towns and it felt more ‘normal’.  But the countryside was much the same.  We followed rolling back roads past dairy farms and small lakes, stopped at a few covered bridges and through the incessant rain eventually made it to the touristy shores of Lake Winnipesaukee.

We arrived on the eve of Memorial Day Long Weekend, one of America’s rare breaks, rainy and soggy in very non-holiday conditions, and bush camped near the base of a ski resort before putting Tramp in for its second service.   He got a clean bill of health again and we moved north towards White Mountains National Forest.

The White Mountains are the pride and joy of the people of New Hampshire.  Rising to over 6,000 feet in the north of the state they feature dramatic glacier-carved valleys, high mountain passes they call notches, deep gorges, beautiful alpine lakes and thick green forests of birch, beech, maple and others.

They were probably the most dramatic mountains we had seen on the east coast but were mostly hidden by the low clouds.  We explored the area around Falconia Notch but poor visibility and a cold light drizzle ruled out any of the longer walks these mountains offered.

The next day the sun the clouds had lifted enough for us to do a fabulous walk up to Lonesome Lake, a 3.4 mile return walk that featured steep climbs through beautiful birch and beech trees, a great walk around the boreal lake itself and a chance to stretch our limbs.  We also spoke to a through walker on the Appalachian Trail, which briefly followed the lake’s rim, who started the walk in Georgia in mid January and in relative terms had almost completed the walk.  Amazing stuff.

The Kancamagus Hwy is another National Scenic Byway and tracks through the White Mountains National Forest, winding up and over the mountains and providing expansive views of the mountains above and the valleys below.  It was Memorial Day weekend and thousands of people were parked on the sides of the roads and enjoying the picnic areas or hiking trails that cover the state park and the national park.  It was great to see so many families and young people using a rare long weekend to get out in nature.

What we now know from our brief visit to Vermont and New Hampshire is that they are chock-a-block with green and when you throw in their flowing rivers, high mountain lakes, thick broadleaf and fir forests and sparse population you have a special setting.  On ya, guys!