Ode To New Hampshire
It feels like we were just leaving New Jersey and reading about all the drones flying around down there, but now we’re staring down the end of our contract in New Hampshire. What an experience it’s been living in New England! We still can’t believe we made this happen, and now we’re walking away with a lifetime of memories and knowledge—priceless keepsakes from our time here. With a state motto like Live Free or Die, we were bound to find some radical stuff! We learned what a New England Rambler was, hunted down every covered bridge we could find, dove headfirst into all things maple syrup, and made some friends while sipping beers at the local brewery. New Hampshire is full of oddities that make you scratch your head, but it’s also packed with incredible outdoor adventures. This is our ode to Peterborough, New Hampshire.
Mile: 63,007
Quote of the Blog: “Life must be lived and curiosity kept alive.” - Eleanor Rossevelt
Song of the Blog: “Northern Attitude” - Noah Kahan
Peterborough is a small town with just over 6,000 residents, though it felt much smaller. It’s a very seasonal place, heavily focused on local theater productions and outdoor recreation in the summer. But come winter, it slows way down, and a lot of those theater folks disappear. Coming from the hustle and bustle of New Jersey, the change of pace took some getting used to. Amity loved it, while I was mostly excited to be closer to skiing! Our rentals was a small basement apartment. We have had better places, but it fit the bill and I was able to see a bobcat walk through the backyard, so that was awesome! It was also close to a running trail that we became so comfortable with, we frequently ran it while it was completely frozen; so were we!
One of the first oddities we noticed was architectural. A lot of houses had a main structure with several smaller sections tacked on, stretching toward a barn or garage. We spent weeks wondering why, until Amity learned at work that these are called New England Ramblers—homes expanded bit by bit over time until everything is connected. It quickly became a game: spotting houses and yelling, “That’s Full Rambler!” followed by a solid Live Free or Die! Judging whether a house had fully rambled to the barn became our favorite road trip distraction while driving to ski.
Another surprise was mandatory recycling. We had no idea our trash routine was about to change. When we moved in, our landlord spent more time explaining the garbage system than the house itself. Instead of weekly curbside pickup, we had to haul our own trash to the local recycling center. Non-recyclable waste had to go in special bags we had to buy, while recyclables had to be sorted into separate bins at the center. On my first trip, I had to ask for help because it was confusing as hell. I remember leaving and thinking, How did they convince an entire town to vote for mandatory recycling? And hats off to all the grumpy old Republicans for actually doing it. This would never fly in Montana.
The most frustrating part? The center was closed three days a week. More than once, I loaded up the car, drove across town, and arrived just in time to find the gates locked. Not exactly fun in single-digit temps. That said, I respect the community for taking responsibility for their waste. And my favorite part? Smashing glass bottles in the glass bin—that is how I Live Free or Die at the recycling center!
New England is home to countless covered bridges, which we learned were built to protect wooden bridges from the harsh winters. I’ve driven over wooden bridges all over the country, but for some reason, they’re only covered here. Must be their way of keeping it old school—Live Free or Die, but make it historic! We first stumbled across one during a run, which made for a fun addition to our list of “random things seen while running.” From then on, we sought them out. Some of our favorites were the ones we had to drive through on ski trips to Vermont, the one we rode through on a magic carpet at Mount Snow, and the famous covered bridge leading into Jackson, NH. These bridges look older than dirt, but they’ve stood the test of time and continue to serve their communities. We loved the uniqueness of them.
Another thing we dove into? Maple syrup. Finding local syrup was a high priority when we arrived in New Hampshire, and it didn’t take long. We picked up a bottle of Ben’s Maple Syrup at the grocery store, only to later realize it was made just five minutes outside of Peterborough. Even better? Ben’s had a Sugar Shack—a shop selling everything maple. And I mean everything. Syrup bottles from sample sizes to gallons, maple candy, maple snacks, maple drinks. Our go-to items? Maple lattes, maple-glazed doughnuts, and good old-fashioned Grade A Dark Maple Syrup. We went through several bottles during our time here. Turns out, maple syrup isn’t just for pancakes—it goes great in (or on) just about everything. Even delicious straight from the bottle.
On our last weekend, we toured one of Ben’s Sugarbushes—the wooded area where maple trees are tapped for sap. We took a fun tractor ride up the hill and learned that sap flows best in early spring when freeze-thaw cycles create the perfect conditions. The sap is collected through either gravity-fed tubing or the old-school bucket-and-spigot method, then boiled down into liquid gold. No crazy additives, no unnecessary steps—just pure maple goodness. Ben himself even gave us a tour, sharing his story. By 16, he was already recognized for making the best maple syrup in New Hampshire. So, naturally, he dropped out of school to make syrup full-time. If that’s not the definition of Live Free or Die, I don’t know what is. We made sure to stock up before leaving.
The last stop before we left town was Post & Beam Brewery—easily the best brewery we’ve found since we started traveling. They had an awesome rotating selection of beers, a great vibe, and some of the best bar conversations we’ve had. Icing on the cake was a bomb wood-fired pizza food truck outside called Backfire Farm Pizza serving up fresh farm to plate zaa’s. On one of our first visits, we got to chatting with the bartender, only to find out she was also the owner. Her name was Erica, and she only worked Wednesday nights. Naturally, Wednesday night brewery runs became our thing. We loved hanging out, talking with Erica and the other regulars, and realizing that everyone there was just as jaded as us in all the same ways. We picked up great local tips, shared plenty of laughs, and definitely enjoyed the beer. The friendships we made at the bar felt local—which made it all the harder to say goodbye. On our last Wednesday, Erica kept the place open late so the “Wednesday Nighters” could throw us a little farewell party. It was bittersweet, but we wouldn’t trade those nights for anything. Everyone there had their own version of Live Free or Die, and we were grateful to be part of it, even for a short time.
We never expected any of this, but here we are. We loved skiing the East, even if the sound of skiing here is like whipped cream coming out of an aerosol can. We loved diving into the fiercely independent, Libertarian culture of New Hampshire, even if it meant standing in the freezing cold to hand-sort our recycling. We loved the unique architecture—the covered bridges, the historic buildings, the Ramblers—even if there’s nothing new about New England and it should really be called Old England. We loved discovering that maple syrup isn’t just for breakfast—it belongs in everything, even if it means risking diabetes. And we loved having a place where we could drink beers, laugh, and complain with friends, even if it meant feeling a little rough on Thursday mornings.
At the end of it all, we realized something: Live Free or Die isn’t just a motto. It’s a way of life. And we’ll keep Living Free—and Living Rad—wherever we go next.
Thank you, New Hamster! We have some more exploring to do before we see you again!