The White Mountain’s Aren’t and the Green Mountain’s Are

I went up to my cousin’s place this weekend up near Lake Luzerne, NY to celebrate his seventieth birthday. But first I drove up to his brother’s and sister-in-law’s condo in Lake Sunapee, NH where I met up with my brother and sister-in-law on Friday night. On the drive over to New York on Saturday morning we passed by a number of major ski areas (Killington, Pico and Mount Sunapee) and they were all bare and all the motels and restaurants along the way were empty; it’s a bad season for the region that counts so heavily on the ski business.
He has a very rustic cabin right next to a small brook with a series of small waterfalls down the side of a hill. Here are some photos from around the cabin.

This is the bridge that he just had build over the stream.

Following the brook down the side of the hill it begins a series of small water falls.

Farther down the hill we can see the back of the cabin next to the stream. From this point the stream meets a large brook which is a tributary of the Hudson River.

The pump in front of the cabin and no he doesn’t get his drinking water from it.

A rather unique doorbell.