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Escape to New Hampshire    by Darwin Redshield

No matter how much you claim to love living in the city, I'm sure you're often tempted to hit the road and disappear into the wilderness. I know I am. I sometimes question my inability to fall asleep without a subway train rumbling by.

I recently followed one of my escapist temptations and steered my VW Bug toward New Hampshire's Lakes Region. I attempted to travel light, but after a bit of research, I found my car quite stocked:

1. Fishing Rods (there was a bass out there with my name on it).

2. 1 Tent (I actually booked a New Hampshire Hotel Room, but felt as if the trip deserved a tent)

3. Costco-sized bag of Trail Mix (aprox. 10 lbs.)

4. Extra Fluffy Down Pillows

5. A laptop with EVDO broadband card (we all gotta stay connected somehow)

6. A hammock I picked up on the way out

7. My flatmate Alan (aprox. 245 lbs)

8. A suitcase filled with clothing and a wool jacket.

9. Hiking boots

8. Alan's stuff (mostly consisted of two thirty racks of beer)

We filled the silence of the five hour drive with Bruce Springsteen's greatest hits. You know you've crossed over to the Granite State's highways when they become lined with a surplus of gun shops and discount liquor stores. More blatant were the thousand or so bikers that cut past us on Route 93.

They growled by on packs of silver and black Harleys; I imagined them off to some grass-and-dirt battlefield to clash with a rival gang. Turns out it was Laconia Motorcycle Week, an annual June rally for the displaying of bikes and girls and the consuming of copious amounts of beer. Alan wanted to go, but I decided against it.

Just as the sun dipped below the horizon we arrived at beautiful Steele Hill Resorts, set amongst 500 acres of unspoiled fields and hardwood forests, and perched proudly on top of New Hampshire's lakes Region. We were hungry from traveling, and were provided a fantastic meal in Steele Hill's restaurant which offered stunning views of Lake Winnipesaukee and Lake Winnisquaum.

I lay awake that night, amazed at how quiet the world was outside of the city. A symphony of crickets had replaced the subway trains and drunk revelers. I fell asleep well-traveled and ready to catch my bass in the morning.

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