14000 MILES 



The following day we turned our thoughts from lakes, 

 bays and rivers, and faced the mountains, which are 

 never more enjoyable than when approaching them. We 

 retraced our route of two years ago, but there is a great 

 difference between driving towards the mountains and 

 away from them. As we drove on through the Water- 

 fords, Albany, West Bethel and Gilead, the views were 

 finer every hour, and at Shelburne we had a most 

 beautiful sunset, and watched the after-glow a long time 

 from a high bluff. 



The rain clouds of the night vanished after a few 

 sprinkles, leaving only delicate misty caps on the high- 

 est peaks, and the day was perfect for the famous drive 

 from Gorham to Jefferson, so close to the mountains of 

 the Presidential range, along through Randolph. The 

 afternoon drive over Cherry Mountain to Fabyan's was 

 never more lovely. We feasted on wild strawberries as 

 we walked up and down the long hills through the 

 woods. 



That this was the tenth time we had driven through 

 the White Mountains did not in the least diminish their 

 charm for us. On the contrary, they have become like 

 old friends. To walk up and down the steep pitches 

 through Crawford Notch, leading the horse, listening 

 at every turnout for mountain wagons, and this year for 

 automobiles, would be a delight every year. Our youth- 

 ful impression of a notch as a level pass between two 

 mountains was so strong, the steep pitches are a lovely 

 surprise every time. 



The old Willey House was one of our favorite resting 



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