Bagging two more New Hampshire towns: Shelburne (#142) and Gorham (#143)

My turn-around point in Shelburne was this spot, exactly 1.6 miles from where I parked the car at the 27.0 mile marker. Late afternoon in December = looooong shadows.

I never thought I'd go running north of Mount Washington in December—in shorts!

But a spell of unseasonably mild weather in our part of the world allowed me to bag two towns "north of the notches," as they say: rural Shelburne and comparatively cosmopolitan Gorham. And I didn't have to bundle up.

The date: Saturday, Dec. 5. The occasion: on my way to an annual silent film screening in the even-further north community of Dixfield, Maine. The goal: to run a minimum of 5K in at least a couple of towns that I doubt will ever hold an official road race.

I don't often get to run in towns this far north. But in planning this gig, I figured that on my way it might be possible to fit in a run among the enormous snowbanks usually in place by now.

Well, Mother Nature had other plans. The higher summits of the surrounding White Mountains are indeed white, but winter hasn't quite reached the valleys just.

Thus I found myself pulling off Route 2 at the Gorham / Shelburne line onto a grassy patch that made for a perfect parking spot.

As it became clear that the weather would be unseasonably nice, I actually had plans to bag four towns. Before Gorham / Shelburne, I had hoped to do a similar two-town run in Jefferson and Randolph, through which Route 2 also runs.

But coming up through Franconia Notch, I noticed a light coating of snow on the shoulder. And heading further through Twin Mountain, I watched as the temperature dropped below 40 degrees. Anything lower requires extra gear, which I didn't bring.

So I wasn't sure about the Jefferson / Randolph stretch, and then ultimately bagged it because that section of the road is narrow, with very little shoulder, and has a lot of steep ups and downs. That, plus the slushy roadside snow and the at-times heavy traffic, made me push on to Gorham / Shelburne.

It turned out to be the right decision. They're at a lower elevation, so the temp had recovered to the mid-forties by the time I pulled in. Plus, the road follows the Androscoggin River, which at this point flows along a flat stretch of valley. And Route 2 is in pretty good shape in these parts, too.

After measuring off 1.6 miles in each direction, I returned to the town line and began the Shelburne stretch at 3:25 p.m.

A long straightaway and then some up-and-down curves took me through some of the dense groves of birch trees for which Shelburne is known. Fun fact: Shelburne's population was 480 in 1859, but only 372 now. So it's one of those upcountry towns that went into decline after the Civil War and still haven't recovered.

I came back to the car at 4:03 p.m. meaning 38 minutes to do 3.2 miles. Nothing to brag about there.

Heading into Gorham for the second part of the run, it was starting to get dark in the valley even though some of the peaks high above us were still catching the light. The wind picked up a bit, but running in shorts still felt fine.

Talk about scenery! The rocky, snow-capped summit of Mount Madison, the nearest Presidential Range peak and rising high above us to the south, looked more like the Matterhorn than it deserved to.

After the rural emptiness of Shelburne, the town center of Gorham seemed like Midtown Manhattan. Stores, restaurants—even sidewalks! (The town's population is about 3,000.)

After my turn-around point, I was headed east-bound, meaning I could better see the day's fading light still kissing the upper reaches of ridges hemming us in. The snow had probably melted a bit and was now refreezing, making the higher spots look like they were lightly dusted with powdered sugar. (Can you tell I was hungry?)

Funny: in Gorham I passed signed promoting the town's 5K run on Thanksgiving. Ooops, missed it!

Reached the car at 4:43 p.m., meaning about 40 minutes for the final 3.2 miles. By then it was completely dark, but the temperature had dropped just a bit: to 41 degrees.

And so I had just enough time to drive up the street to the town's Subway (housed in a former bank branch office), where I changed into my performing clothes and got a sandwich.

Next up: this coming week I'm on a road trip to Ohio and Toronto, Canada, and so have an opportunity to claim as many as three new states in my quest to run at least 10K in all 50.

Stay tuned!

Saturday, Oct. 6: Grafton, Town #139

The course was once the main railroad line linking Boston and Montreal.

Ran a 5K this morning in Grafton, an up-country towns in the state's western hills. Finished in 29:58, a minor miracle for me. The fact that there was actually an official race in Grafton was a minor miracle as well.

The morning was warm--warmer than you'd expect for the Saturday on Columbus Day weekend. Grafton is a small town on Route 4 about an hour away from home base, and it's far enough up for you to still see Ron Paul for President signs on the side of barns.

I know Grafton as one of the towns on the "Northern Line," meaning a railroad that linked Concord, N.H. with White River Junction, Vt. by snaking through this part of the state. At one time the corridor was part of the main linking connecting Boston and Montreal, and was very busy both with passenger and heavy freight.

Alas, the line was abandoned in the 1980s, and the tracks have since been removed. But the corridor itself remains intact, and still runs through the small towns of western New Hampshire -- often straighter and more level than Route 4, which parallels it. These days, it serves as a route for fiber optic cables as well as a recreational trail in Andover, Danbury, and yes, Grafton.

As such, it played host to today's race, both the 5K (which I ran) and the 8K course. The event was a fundraiser in support of the Grafton Historical Society's efforts to restore a local carding mill that dates from 1823.

Getting ready to run.

The race started from a recreational field off Route 4. An interesting side adventure was a lone portable toilet that I made use of. The thing was in a state of almost comical disrepair, and felt like it was about to tip over when I stepped inside. Here's a picture:

About 40 people turned out, with most walking or running the 5K; the course for the latter would be entirely on the railbed of the Northern Line, which at least meant a level course. (The 8K included hills outside of town and then a leg back on the railbed.)

I knew it would be an interesting race when I overhead organizer Andrew Cushing mention that he wasn't sure if the rail trail has been mowed lately. And the next thing I knew, a young gal was crazily shouting "Who wants to SAVE THE MILL!?" And that was our signal to start.

The course was level, yes, and took us past the usual railroad archaeological sites: old depot platforms, etc. I was surprised to see not one single tie or spike, so the salvage folks were very thorough. I found it strange to be jogging exactly on a path where immense steam locomotives once ruled.

Not sure of my order of finish, but I wasn't the last 5K runner, so I can say at least that much. The 29:58 time was encouraging, as I haven't done too many timed races in recent weeks. Hoping to push that down to below 29:00 before the season is over.

I couldn't stay for the cookout that followed, but I saw some quirky signs on the ride out. Just down the road, the Grafton General Store was promoting soft serve cones for "100 cents," and in Danbury, I passed the Route 104 Auto Repair and Computer Service. Guess they still have to wear a lot of hats out in these parts, ayup.

Saturday, Sept. 22: Marlborough, Town #138

Back before we had refrigerators, we had libraries. In the early days, some private libraries charged user fees. But if a town set up a library open to all residents, it was a "free" library, and often identified as such.

This explains the presence of the oddly named "Frost Free Library" in Marlborough, N.H., where I ran a 5K this morning in pretty much ideal conditions: cool but not cold, low overcast but dry, an occasional light breeze but not really any wind. (No frost, although I'm not sure the library had anything to do with that.)

All in all, not too shabby for the first day of fall (today at 10:49 a.m.), and for Town #138 in my quest to run in all of New Hampshire's cities, towns, and unincorporated places.

Marlborough was something of a milestone, too, as it completes the set of seven Granite State communities in which I've lived. (Nashua, Claremont, Keene, Marlborough, Milford, Manchester, and Bedford.) As of today, I've run a road race in all of them. I've also run a race in more than half of the Granite State's "cigarette" communities: besides Marlborough, I've done Salem and Newport. Still need Winchester and Chesterfield, however.

Time? A fairly acceptable 31:40, not bad considering the up-and-down nature of the course and relative lack of steady running in recent months. (The picturesque cemeteries we passed were a reminder.) Pace was 10:12, and I came in 59 out of 94 finishers.

On hand for Town #138 were Dave and Patsy Beffa, friends from Nelson, N.H. I worked with Dave at PC Connection some years back, and we were all part of a 10-day trek to Annapurna Base Camp (Elevation 13,500 feet) in Nepal in 2011.

I usually run by myself, and I've never quite understood how people can hold conversations while running. How do you manage your breathing and pacing? But I found while running alongside David, my inability to keep my mouth shut revealed an upside to it: the adrenaline that comes from interacting with people while you're on the course seems to push you through that, or at least it did with Dave.

Best line of the run was me to Dave about mid-day through: "My problem is that I only really kick in after Mile 4 or so."

Well, that's the best I could do. Perhaps I should check out a good joke book from the Frost Free Library.

Great Minds Department: After eating two apples on the way up here, I find the post-race snack supply to consist solely of—apples! All I can say is, thank God for the Peterborough Diner on the way home!

Saturday, June 23: Northfield (#136)

Well, that was the best smelling race I've been in so far.

I speak of the "Aurlow Stanley Memorial Dare 5K" in Northfield, N.H., which I ran this morning when the day was much, much younger.

The smell, specifically, was the smoky scent of a wood fire being started in a stone barbecue pit near where I parked, under a canopy of tall pines that makes up Northfield's town recreation area. The property's name is, straight-forwardly enough, Northfield Pines.

The pines themselves are truly enormous:


The fire and the food vendors and souvenir tents were all part of some kind of festival -- for what I never exactly found out. Unusual items being set out next to a van selling CHEESECAKE created this curious still life of inflatable aliens and rubber ducks:


But the day's events included a 5K race, and that's what brought me to town.

It was a good morning for a race -- the first reasonable temperatures after a three-day stretch that brought humidity and highs in the upper 90s to our part of the world. But this morning dawned refreshingly cool and dry, so off I sped to Northfield for the 8 a.m. start.

One noteable aspect of today's race was how easy it was to find. I have a bad habit of cutting it pretty close with races, and often find myself bombing along back roads trying to find some obscure town rec area with 15 minutes to go before a race starts.

Not in Northfield: You swing off Interstate 93 at Exit 19 and there it is! It could not have been more convenient, and one consequence of this was that I had a whole half-hour to register ($20), stretch & warm up, and smell the wood smoke. Here's everyone milling about the registration area:

The 5K race itself, an out-and-back on local roads, began with a couple of mild hills, then took us under I-93 and into rolling countryside. Although it was still early morning, the summer heat was already building in the sunny spots.

A gradual ascent led to the turn-around spot, which consisted of a murderous up-and-down loop which quickly gains significant altitude, thens lose it just as fast. Ouch!

I felt kinda tired throughout the whole thing, and could tell early on it wasn't going to be anything like a PR. During the last mile, I became so separated from other runners ahead and behind me (mostly walkers) that it was almost not like a race at all, but just a private run. I almost wanted to take a detour to explore "The Memorial Arch of Tilton," some kind of large cemetery monument that we passed by but I couldn't see from the road.

The Memorial Arch: erected in 1882, the keystone contains a time capsule whose contents include "gold and silver coins." Don't get any ideas...

I'd never heard of it, but later research found it to be, yes, a big granite arch erected in the 19th century by one Charles Tilton, a local resident. Inspired by a trip to Rome, Tilton decided to erect an arch for peace (rather than war) in his hometown, and did just that, sparing no expense. It was added to the U.S. National Register of Historic Places in 1980 and rehabbed shortly thereafter.

Tilton built his arch for the ages, but any thoughts of immortality were scattered by the next landmark down the road: a rather large home for handicapped senior citizens.

The last stretch before the finish was a nice shaded downhill alongside the same park, right through the woodsmoke again. It was marred somewhat, however, but a middle-aged woman who had finished the race but had taken it upon herself to loudly criticize the technique of all those making their final dash.

"Loosen up" she screamed at me. "Relax! And open up that stride! Open it up!"

Geez, the last thing I expected this morning was a flashback to high school gym class, but that's what I got. I appreciated her concern for my running style, but, really, there's a time and a place.

Because she was near my parked car, I got to hear her comments for the next 15 minutes or so. At one point, she bellowed her "encouragement" to runners while lying on her back along the road and stretching her legs against a fence.

I didn't stick around, taking advantage of the convenient highway exit to make a quick get-away. The Memorial Arch of Tilton will have to wait for another time...

The stats: finished in a rather slow 31:16, or 10:04 pace. 78 out of 123.

Update: Northfield, state runs, tri-athalons, oh my!

Okay, let me try to organize my head about what's coming up. There's a lot!

But it's a good thing, I think, because I'm currently deep in the midst of helping an aging parent in post-fall recovery as well as placement in assisted living. I gladly do this, but it can be a bit wearing. So being sure to make time to be active is especially important if I'm going to keep my sanity and not fall into bad habits such as stress eating or lack of sleep.

So what's coming up? Well, I have a town run scheduled for this Saturday (June 23) in Northfield, which will bring me to #136. And I'd like to do one more longish run in the "50 states" campaign, just to make up for not getting one on the books in May. Perhaps Rhode Island next week?

And then there's my first-ever triathalon, set for Saturday, July 14 in Surry, N.H. It's a .25-mile swim, an 8-mile bike ride, then a 5K run. think I have the bike/run part nailed, but swimming? Swimming? Er, let's see.

I suppose I could just show up and flail my way through the quarter-mile without drowning. Even so, better judgment says I should make time to swim somewhere a few times prior to engaging in this.

So one plan is to take the bike on a long ride out to Harrisville, N.H., a community to the west of here that has a nice public beach. A 40-mile bike ride is probably not the best way to precede a swim, but at least I'll get in some good exercise that day.

Not sure when that'll happen but perhaps the 4th of July, which is a Wednesday this year and our business is closed. I don't have any silent film screenings on the weekends before or after the holiday, so there should be time. We'll see.

And then there's my goal of biking the entire 34-mile length of New Hampshire's Kancamaugus Highway, both ways, sometime this summer. I've been riding more and more, to the point where the tires on my Giant Defy road bike are getting worn down pretty good, so there's hope on that one. Sometime in late July/early August, on a day when the weather's not too dodgy up in the White Mountains. We'll see.

And wait! Speaking of the Whites, I'd like to make progress on getting to the summit of all 48 peaks that are 4,000 feet or higher. This was originally an attempt to get one of our dogs, Zahnna, to all 48 summits, but in the past year she's slowed down considerably and shows signs of hip trouble. So, alas, she may have to call it quits at #30, with 18 still to go.

Well, maybe. In the past week, she's been getting some new food supplement that seems to have perked her up for action, so perhaps it's time to hit the trail for some trial hikes. Not today, though, as it's nearly 6 p.m. and still well above 90 degrees. Maybe this weekend. (If I can suddenly find a spare 12 hours somewhere.)

So there's no shortage of options to stay active this season. It's a matter of staying organized, prioritizing, and also not getting injured. :)

Saturday, May 19: 5K in Meredith (#133)

Meredith, with its white clapboard buildings and modest strip mall developments, is sort of like the upper middle class answer to Wolfeboro, the extremely well-to-do enclave on the other side of Lake Winnipesaukee.

And the 5K race on Saturday, May 19 was the first really hot one of the season, with bright skies and temps climbing towards 80 during the run. I finished in a pretty respectable time of 29:15, good enough to be 53rd out of 161, although a good number were walkers. (The race was a fundraiser: the Nathaniel Bibaud 5K Run/Walk 2012.)

One thing is that this race was point-to-point, starting at Inter-Lakes High School (perched on a bluff above town) and ending on town's Lake Winnipesaukee docks, where the 230-foot M/S Mount Washington calls. (But only once a week, apparently, according to this year's schedule.)

So it was a net downhill, but not without first taking us up into a residential neighborhood, and only then down a steep hill to the level of the lake, which it then follows around the bay to the town's center.

Unusual for New Hampshire communities, Meredith has an extensive network of sidewalks, which we used for long stretches of the race, especially near the end. Unfortunate, it seemed all the sidewalks were arranged so as to be in broad daylight at 10 a.m., meaning very little shade on this course.

Still, I felt fairly strong throughout the race, and was energzied by the last quarter-mile, which takes you along a network of wooden docks (which wobble a bit as you run on them) and a town park. With the finish in sight, I pushed hard and passed a gal who was also giving it a good try.

It was a good race, although I almost missed it due to incorrect information posted on www.coolrunning.com about it. This happens a few times a year, at least—I'll head all the way out to some unfamiliar part of town to seek out a race, and when I get to the listed starting point, no one's there! I think sometimes these people must fill out the form wrong, putting their office address (as town rec director, for example) instead of where the darn race is supposed to start.

Arriving in Meredith, I spotted the finish line no problem, so at least I knew a road race was indeed taking place. But the listing had the start at "Prescott Park," which was a mile or so up Route 3.

So up I went, to find a lot of people at Prescott Park, but no one who knew anything about a 5K race. So I went back into town, to question the folks at the finish line.

"Oh, it starts at the high school," a guy said. Okay! But how is it that organizers who post race info online get the starting location listed wrong so often? I can't tell you how many times I've been launched on wild goose chases to find races in unfamiliar, sometimes unsuccessfully. Okay, end of rant.

Got there with just enough time to register, bring change back to my car, and then arrive at the start, where festivities were already underway. After barely enough time to adequately stretch out, off we went, around the school and then, surprisingly, UP some side streets. (So much for my visions of an all downhill course...) After going in and out of a cul-de-sac, we then lost most of our altitude all at once, barrelling down a steep hill that bottomed out at lakeside.

For the final mile, the course followed the lake shore around to the town docks. Good news: Meredith is one of those rare New Hampshire towns that actually has sidewalks! Bad news: They invariably exist on the unshaded side of the road, at least during this road race.

Unusual feature: This is the first race I've run in with any appreciable distance on waterfront dockage! Weird, as some of the docks float on the water, meaning they roll a bit underfoot.

Finished strong but pushed myself a bit too hard, I think, judging by the overheated wastedness that enveloped me afterwards. I dispelled this zombie-like state by walking back to the starting point, which I didn't have to ask anyone about.

Sunday, April 22: 5K in Dunbarton (#132)

The first rain we've had in three months moved in just in time for the Dunbarton Library's Earth Day 5K. A field of 18 runners braved the soggy hills that made up the course this afternoon. Despite the ups and downs, and also having already run four miles earlier today with two of our dogs, I finished in the impressive (for me) time of 28:48.

It was a fun low-budget race. Registration was a mere $5, a breath of fresh air compared to the $30-and-up figures I've been seeing lately. Instead of bibs, our numbers were written on paper with an adhesive backing; we then peeled and affixed them to our chest and our left shoulder. (I was #9; the woman underlined it so there would be no mistaking me. Alas, the numbers fell off in the rain.)

Most impressive was the homemade timing clock being used at the finish line. Made of green lights and particle board, I'd never seen anything like it. The guy who built it told me he'd made it using Christmas lights, which were arranged on a board so they could display any four-digit number, depending on what signals were received.

The display was one continuous strip of six wires, though cut and spliced in various ways. The output was controlled by a component fixed to the back of the board, which also fed info to the guy's laptop. It was just what was needed, with only the rain offering the possibility of any trouble.

Sure enough, coming in to the finish line, I noticed the "minutes" output was covered up by someone's sweatshirt; something had obviously gone awry. Still, it was an ingenious effort. It made me regret rushing out of the house without my camera.

And when I say rushing, I mean it. The race was scheduled to start at 3 p.m.; with less than an hour to go, I was still visiting my mother in a skilled nursing facility in Nashua, N.H. (Dear old mom is recovering from a recent fall.)

Not sure how up you might be on New Hampshire geography, but most people would be hard-pressed to make from Nashua up to Dunbarton in less than an hour. But I swung on the highway, made a pit stop at my house (in Bedford, N.H., about the half-way point) and yes, pulled in next to the Dunbarton Library at 2:50 p.m., with plenty of time to spare!

Actually, more than I expected. Though listed as starting at 3 p.m., the race didn't really begin until 3:30 p.m. With the rain already started, I stayed inside and checked out the modest library's selections. For a small library, very impressive! Good selection of coin books, and some interesting history DVDs. I also got to look at the Hugo Cabret book for the first time.

And it occurs to me that this blog is serving a purpose, even if it's just personal. Without, I probably would have been able to come up with any number of excuses about skipping today's run -- sickness, no time, a dicey Achilles tendon, the steady rain. But no -- this blog helped keep me motivated when I might otherwise have blown off this race.

And that's all from Town #132!

Saturday, March 24: Epping 5K (#131)

The 2012 running season opened today with a strange one: the "2nd Annual Pursuit of the Holy Grail," a 5K that winds through the streets of Epping, N.H., ending in the parking lot of the Holy Grail, a local restaurant and pub. We've just come off a week of record-breaking heat (temps in the 80s!) so this morning's mroe seasonal weather seemed cool, which meant a good day for running.

The unusual part of this race (besides some runners costumed as if they were part of King Arthur's quest) was that it was point-to-point, a rarity in New Hampshire. I didn't know this, so drove to the starting line way out in rural Epping only to be told that registration was back in town at the Holy Grail, after which you take a school bus shuttle to the starting line.

Sheesh! So, with 15 minutes to go, I jogged back to the car and then sped to the Holy Grail, where I registered ($28, a steep entry fee) and caught the very last school bus to the start.

Although I was hoping for a strong time after being able to keep running all winter, a few things worked against that. For starters, I didn't have time to stretch out very much, and in doing what I could prior to the start, I stepped off the road and into a cold wet patch of ground that soaked one foot. Once we got running, this put something of a crimp in my style, and then my right Achilles tendon felt a little sore, so throughout the race I felt like I wasn't able to loosen up.

And then the lace on my left shoe came undone no less than three times! Bad karma.

End result was that I finished at 30:17, or a 9:45 pace, slower than I'd hoped after a whole winter of continuous running. Not sure where I was in the pack but I'll add that when results come in. For now, the 2012 season has begun!

P.S. Posted results have me placing 298 out of 463, a huge field!

Few new towns on this year's calendar

It's March, and two of our dogs are about to take me on a four-mile run around our neighborhood. First, a few notes.

It's getting to be mid-March, and I'm surprised at how few races are scheduled in towns I haven't run. In prior years, by now I'd be sorting through a list of 15 or 20 communities for the coming season. This year -- just a handful. And that's out of six pages of listings on www.coolrunning.com.

So I really have entered a new phase of this quest. If I'm going to finish it by May 14, 2016 (see below), this is the year to start systematically setting up my "do-it-yourself" 5K courses. The goal: a minimum of 30 communities this year.

To do this, I need to make 15 trips, as my method will actually be to run a minimum 10K, only half in one town and half in another. To do this is quite easy: all you have to do is find where the border is marked between two towns (New Hampshire is pretty good at that), then measure off 2.5K (or 1.6 miles) in each direction.

So then, starting right at the border, you go into Town A a distance of 2.5K, then turn around and come back. That gives you a solid 5K in Town A. But then you cross the border and keep going into Town B, into which you run 2.5K, then turn around and head back. When you reach the border, hey presto -- another 5K done! And you're standing right next to your car.

Two advantages to this method: I can start any time I want, and no registration fees! So I can squeeze them in quite early, say, and still have most of the day free. (Plus I can take the dogs along.) And there being no races this weekend, and the weather being fairly nice, I might start early tomorrow with two towns, Brookline and Mason, and see how it goes.

Running in every state: Next up is New York State, which will happen while I'm roistering in Syracuse from Wednesday, March 14 through Monday, March 19. This will bring my total up to two out of 50. Well, you've got to start somewhere, and if the goal is to motivate me to workout while staying in a comfy hotel room, well, then it seems to be working, right?

Looking forward to May 14, 2016

Well, we continue to enjoy the softest winter in some years. Hardly any snow in our part of the word, and yesterday afternoon it was 50 degrees. Running with the dogs on Feb. 1 in a t-shirt and shorts! Amazing. Note: Yesterday (Feb. 3, 2012) I ran 7 miles with the dogs!

Of course I say "enjoying" knowing that this kind of weather has cut into my opportunities to go downhill skiing this season. I'd like to get at least moderately proficient at it before I get too old to do it at all, and that time is coming...

But the up side is that I've continued to run regularly, which has been good for our dogs as well as for me. It's now February, and with the weather cooperating and with lack of a snowpack, I really haven't stopped running outside this winter. As a result, I feel stronger than ever, and barring any kind of injury, I should enter the 2012 running season in a good position to start finishing races below that 10:00 mile pace that's become my middle-aged baseline.

However, there's one thing new about 2012. I've been checking the Web sites regularly, and out of dozens and dozens on the New Hampshire calendar so far, only a handful are taking place in towns that I haven't yet reached. In past years, by this time I'd have a list of a dozen or more to look forward to, sometimes several on one day to pick from.

But now, after having completed races in 130 of our state's 234 cities, towns, and unincorporated places, the ones left where actual official races take place are becoming few and far in-between.

Well, this had to happen at some point. After all, it's not really reasonable to expect, say, the north country town of Odell (population 0) to hold a 5K anytime soon. And so it looks like the "Running the 234" challenge will be entering a new phase in 2012: one in which I begin to pick up towns where no road race is likely to ever take place, at least in my lifetime.

So, for each of those places, the goal will remain the same: to run at least a 5K within its borders. The only difference now is that it won't be in the form of an official race. And thus I will be able to start adding towns such as Dalton and Windsor to the list of towns completed.

And now that this second phase has started, I have come up with a date by which I want to complete it. The date is Monday, May 14, 2016, when I am exactly 52 years and 121 days old. (I was born on Jan. 14, 1964.) There's a very specific reason for this date, but I am keeping that to myself for now.

And now that I've gotten this far, I have just discovered something that is quite surprising. It seems that I've had my "number of cities, towns, and unincorporated places" wrong all along. It turns out that 234 is the total number of New Hampshire's incorporated cities (13 of those) and towns (they number 221), but that figure does not include the state's unincorporated places, of which there are 25. Ooops! I thought 234 was the total of them all. Learn something new every day.

So what to do? For me, the bottom line is that in completing this challenge, I hope to be able to finally color in every single nook and cranny of my big wall map of New Hampshire. And if I stick with the 234 number, and don't include the 25 unincorporated places (most of which are small slivers of land, but some of which are quite sizeable), then my map won't be colored in.

Well, looks like I just added 25 more locations to run 5K in order to finish this quest. I'm only just now beginning to process what that means, but right now I don't think it will prevent me from completing the quest. So onward we go.

Saturday, Nov. 26: Rollinsford 5K (#130)

...in which I was injured by a bagel. Read on...

Went out to New Hampshire's eastern limits this morning to run a race in Rollinsford, a town on the state's border with Maine. In fact, the "Tatenda 5K" crossed over into Vacationland and back, making it the only bi-state race so far in the 130 I've completed in my quest.

It's been unseasonably mild for the end of November, so some of us (me included) ran the race in t-shirt and shorts, which is very unusual for this time of year. At left is photo taken at a more verdant time of year. For me, the barrier is usually 40 degrees Fahrenheit -- anything below that, I need pants, a sweatshirt, etc. I brought all the cold weather gear with me on the hour-long drive, but at race time (9 a.m.), the temperature was already in the mid-40s, on its way to the upper 50s. So bare skin prevailed.

Rollinsford (population 2,500) is a town I know nothing about except I have a cousin who lives there. (Hi John Fortier!). The town is centered on Salmon Falls Village, which itself is clustered around a large brick former textile mill complex on the Salmon River. As in every other old New Hampshire milltown, textiles are long gone, but Rollinsford doesn't seem too be doing too badly. The sprawling complex of what used to be the Salmon Falls Manufacturing Co. has been renovated into space for artist studios and chai cafes and many other small businesses. The town, as well as South Berwick, Maine across the river, has a kind of hippie flair to it, with organic cafes and coffeehouses and funky small restaurants everywhere.

An unusual feature is that the main railroad line connecting Boston to Portland, Maine runs right through town, crossing the Salmon River on a very high bridge, at least from the perspective of the mill below the falls. As I was warming up, I heard the tell-tale honk of an Amtrak Downeaster passenger train from afar, and was surprised to see it suddenly shoot over the bridge way above us at a fairly fast clip.

Speaking of which, I was hoping to run at a fairly fast clip as well, as the course was promoted as "flat." All I can say is, whoever decided that must have been raised halfway up the Mount Washington Auto Road. The course, which makes a zig-zaggy loop from Rollinsford into South Berwick, Maine and then back, was full of ups and downs. That, coupled with a persistent minor cold and a lousy night's sleep, prevented me from breaking the 30 minute barrier, though most other conditions were favorable -- I've been running regularly, the temperatures were cool, and I felt pretty strong.

The finish was tough because you come back into the millyard and there's a long straight stretch to the finish line way in the distance. I could see the clock said "29:something" but couldn't tell the seconds. As I got closer, it was in the 40s, but I kept pushing even though it appeared I would slide past 30 minutes. The official time: 30:14, finishing 24 out of 45 participants.

Two unusual things. At the start, announcer Andy Schachat handed over the mike to an organizer to say a few words, and she concluded her remarks by unexpectedly saying "Go!" Half the field immediately took off, but Schachat called everyone back to try again after the National Anthem. Also, after running a total of 130 races, this was the very first time that I suffered a treatable injury. It happened not during the race, but after, while slicing a bagel, when the plastic serrated knife went through the bagel and fairly deep into the tip of my right index finger. Sheesh! Injured by a bagel. Many thanks to the women of the White Heron Tea Co. (Motto: Good Tea for Good People), who allowed use of their first aid kit for me to patch myself up.

Entry fee: $25, not outrageous, and all proceeds support Tatenda International. And what the heck is that? It's an international service group that supports "efforts of established relief organizations via retreats, resources and youth development." The word 'Tatenda' means “thank you” in the Shona language of Zimbabwe. For more information about the program, check out the group's Web site.

So a big Tatenda to all who made this race happen. It's likely the last new city, town or unincorporated place in New Hampshire that I'll race in this year, and was a memorable finale. So we end 2011 with a total of 130, meaning there's just 104 to go.

Sept. 17: Report from New Ipswich 5K (#128)

Off to New Ipswich, N.H. (Town #128) for an early morning 5K in that town. Almost didn't make it because the race start was 8 a.m. and it was only after 7 a.m. when I checked the info at home, which is in Bedford, N.H. about 35 miles away. Whoops! But I hit the road fast and made good time, arriving with 10 minutes to spare -- a pretty wide margin for me, and downright excellent when you consider I had to guess at the location of Mascenic Regional High School, site of the race.

One factor was a good intuitive decision I made at the last minute. See, all I knew was that Mascenic High was on Route 124, which runs the length of the town. When I hit Route 124, it was on the far eastern side of town. Turn left, and the road went only about a half-mile. Turn right, and it ran about seven miles to the next town line. So to find the high school, odds are you turn right, right?

And that's what I was about to do, right at that intersection, until I glanced left just to check for traffic, and noticed a little "RUNNERS IN ROAD" sign. Hmmmm. On the left side of the intersection. Should I turn left? And then I remembered: it's Mascenic Regional High School, meaning more than one town sends kids to it, and in this case the towns are Greenville and Mason, which are, yes, to the left.

All this thought happened in a split second. I didn't have time to make a mistake, but I figured if I turned left and there was no high school in the half-mile in that direction, I at least had a chance of turning around and finding the school in the other direction. But if I turned right, I could go up to seven miles and not find it, making me miss the race.

So I turned left, drove up a hill, and there it was, off on the left: Mascenic Regional High School. Ha! No lottery tickets for me today: I've used up all my good fortune for awhile.

For me, it was the first race of the "post summer," meaning it was noticeably chilly at the start and in the shade, though not a problem to still wear the simple shirt/shorts outfit that I stick to when it's above 40 degrees. (It was 43 when I got out of the car, but felt colder because I'm not used to this just yet. By January, 43 will seem downright balmy.)

This first-ever "Viking 5K" was to support the school's athletic booster fund ($15 registration fee, very reasonable), and I was in need of a little boosting myself. I haven't been sleeping consistently all week, and I think I've started to pick up the cold my wife has been battling. And then the layout isn't conducive to fast times, as it includes a series of upgrades and finishes with a pretty steep incline. To make it more interesting, much of the race is on Route 124, a narrow state highway that remained open during the race, and which carries significant truck traffic, at least on a Saturday morning.

Still, I hung in there and finished in 30:33, not bad considering how I felt. At least I didn't stop on any of the hills, and I did have a nice burst of energy at the end, after topping the final hill, and was able to finish strong. Ended up as 51 out of 99, with pace of 9:50.

One interesting twist that I'd never seen before was that the timing folks had a large video display set up on which results were posted sort-of-live. (It took a bit for you to appear after finishing, and the results weren't posted in order.) Quite different from the usual print-it-out-and-tape-it-to-the-bandstand method widely in use.

Aug. 13: Richmond (#125) at Camp Wiyaka

Richmond is one of those quiet New Hampshire backwoods towns, one that the railroads missed and everything else, too, I never expected to find a 5K road race there. But that's what happened today (Saturday, Aug. 13), as the good folks at Camp Wiyaka organized one as part of their annual Alumni Day, which marks the close of camp for the season.

I hadn't been in Richmond for years, but I have some prior involvement with the town. About 25 years ago, I tried to buy a 48-acre woodlot in a remote part of town. Asking price: $15,000. It was 1986. I had just graduated from college, and my idea was to build a cabin and use it for writing. (Present day reaction to this scheme from one of my colleagues: "Okay, Mr. Henry David Thoreau.") In my mind, I had my own version of my grandfather's asbestos hunting cabin, which still stands in the backwoods of Harrisville, N.H. This would be my own, and minus the asbestos.

The land fronted on a Class VI road, meaning one that was no longer maintained by the town. Small towns in N.H. are riddled with these, left from a time when most of the land was farms that have since been left to grow back to forest. To get there, a real estate agent and I drove up Benson Road as far as we could, then hiked in the rest of the way, about a half-mile. Like of lot of rural New Hampshire, it had been left abandoned sometime after the Civil War. It had beaver pond with a big dam, several small family graveyards in which the most recent date was 1888, and stone walls all over the place. Curiously, there was also an abandoned school bus that had somehow made it up there, and which someone had been living in until recently.

It was exactly what I wanted.

However, the catch was that the town would not issue a building permit for land with no access. No building permit, no cabin. So unless I wanted to live in the bus, I was stuck. The lot was good as forest, but not much else, unless I wanted to pay to bring the road up to town standards. Also, for the first time in my life, I encountered property taxes. So poof went that dream!

Plus, I found out that a few years prior, the bus was scene of a honest-to-goodness backwoods New Hampshire murder! Really -- the abandoned road led all the way into the town of Troy, where there was a tough country & western dance place, and one night a woman for some reason was dragged up the road to the bus, held captive, and eventually murdered!

This really happened.

It wouldn't have kept me from buying the place, and I often wonder what would have happened if I had. And now, 25 years later, here I am driving into Richmond to find Camp Wiyaka not too far from my own version of Paradise Lost -- just on the other side of Route 32.

The camp, 90 years old this season, consists of rustic buildings spread out along a small lake and up a small hill. Campers stay for a week at a time, sleeping in platform tents that bunk eight. There's a dining hall, recreation hall, playing fields, and overall the place looks pretty timeless -- not much different in 2011 than it probably did in 1921. Heck, I wouldn't have minded staying a week here.

On this Saturday morning, all the campers are gone, having departed the night before after completing Camp Wiyaka's final week of the 2011 season. Today is Alumni Day, with a road race at 9 a.m. kicking things off. Fine, except someone posted a 10 a.m. start online, which means me and a few others turn up after the race has been run!

Faced with this, the Camp Wiyaka organizers decided to run the same race all over again at 10 a.m. Course volunteers were told to maintain their stations (some walkers were still out there from the 9 a.m. start!) and a half-dozen of us lined up on the lakeside volleyball court for the second edition. Entrance fee was a reasonable $15.

The course was unusual and varied -- part rough trail, part paved road, part dirt road. The first part took us on a loop through the campgrounds, including behind the latrines, before getting us out onto paved Sandy Pond Road. We changed to a dirt road until the half-way point turn-around, then back, including the camp loop one more time before the finish.

I have to give credit to the volunteers who maintained their posts long after they expected the event to be over. They were cheerful and did their best to mask what must have been utter boredom -- a kid at one intersection was actually building a house of cards on the pavement!

Though I was a complete outsider, people were friendly enough, and I didn't feel like a visiting space alien as I explored the camp. Finishing time was 35:02, which is really slow, but I felt sluggish all week and I have a feeling the distance of the Camp Wiyaka Race was a little longer than 5K. But no matter. I had actually run a race in Richmond, N.H., thanks to the good folks of Camp Wiyaka.

Now, I need to go looking for some property...

Rindge (#124) on Saturday, Aug. 6

A belated post on the Rindge "Tour De Common" -- sorry, but it's been than kind of a week.

Nice weather, a little warm but overcast building in, for a 5K race in this town on the Massachusetts line, about an hour's drive from where I live. Not too much prior experience with Rindge, though technically the Jaffrey-Rindge School District was part of my beat when I was education writer for the Keene (N.H.) Sentinel, the local paper, two decades ago.

The only other thing I can think of is that I bought some coins at an auction house here many years ago, too. Another distinction of Rindge is that it's one of only a handful of New Hampshire communities with a one-syllable name. Offhand, the only others I can think of are Lee, Bath, Troy, and Hill. Oh, and Weare. (Where?)

Anyway! Very organized race with a really well laid-out course, too. Starting just above the town common at the police station; first mile drifted steadily downward, then bottomed out. Before Mile 2, we hit a series of upgrades, none of which were soul-destroying, but just enough to keep you focused. (It helped that a woman was continually coming up behind me, then walking, then catching up again, then walking, which kept me from slacking off.) Then, for maybe the last half-mile, it's a long downhill back to the town center, and razor straight and open so you can see who's in front of you and all that.

The net effect of all of this was to just pull me along at a quicker rate than usual, even though the sun was breaking through and starting to heat things up. Finished in 29:07, my fastest time in years! Pace of 9:24, vs. the usual 10-minute mile. I came in 41 out of 73 runners, or just five places out of placing in the top half, a rare occurrence for me.

One weird thing about this one was that after going to my car to change into a non-soaked shirt, I returned to the town common to find a group of woman line dancing as part of the awards ceremony. Hey, whatever. Also, I had a few moments to study the town's veterans memorial, which reads like a language lesson. Class, what tenses are in use here? Pay attention!

As for Canaan on Sunday, Aug. 7, I'm embarrassed to say I overslept and would not have made it up there in time. Let's hope the Canaan Police Department decides to make their "Run From The Law" an annual event so I get another shot.