Country Roads

You can tell a lot about a town by looking at signs along the road. Sandwich is an eclectic collection of folks who all share the dry humor that is ubiquitous to New England. Take this sign along the Holderness Road.  Northern cities suffer from potholes during the winter and spring, but here in the country, frost heaves are the result of road beds freezing and expanding, splitting asphalt and heaving it up. The intrepid Sandwich road crew posts warnings (which are to be taken seriously!), but there’s always room for humor, and thus the addition beneath the official orange sign. Gotta love it!

Then there are the road signs that appear to be growing out of trees. These are at the intersection of three dirt roads — Mount Israel, Maple Ridge, and Wing. A metal sign post was recently added with new signs, but a snowmobile path goes right by it, and it was knocked over this winter. (In all fairness to snowmobilers, who are very courteous in these parts, it was probably a snowplow that pushed over the signpost.)

Also at this intersection are homemade signs designed to help hopelessly lost out-of-towners (such as those who drive up our long, steep, winding driveway bewildered because their GPS told them that a hiking trail up Mount Israel begins at our little house ~ but that’s another story).

This sign points the way to the Sandwich Creamery. The formal sign for the creamery (open every day of the year) is at the other end of Wing Road on Whiteface Road. It is more stately and picturesque, but I like the moo sign best. (I also think that Black Raspberry Chocolate  Chip is the best ice cream flavor, hands down.)

Anyone who drives Interstate 93 in New Hampshire (or pretty much any highway in the North Country) is accustomed to seeing “Brake for Moose” warning signs. No joke. Brake for moose, trust me. But have you seen a “farm animals” warning sign like this one? I don’t know about you, but I also brake for horses, cows, and pigs.

During hunting season, many Sandwich residents permit hunters on their property, but many of us have a problem with hunters who use dogs to harass and tree a bear, then sidle on up to the scene and shoot the bear right out of the tree. I know this is a stereotype, but honestly, the “hunters” appear to most often be sitting in their trucks looking at GPS screens to track their dogs, eating donuts or chewing tobacco, or eating donuts while chewing tobacco. (Okay, I may have gone too far. Apologies to kind, thoughtful clean living hunters who probably don’t use dogs in such an unsportsmanlike way…. Just saying.)

If you mistake a small town like Sandwich for a quiet hole-in-the-wall, just have a look at some of the signs in the town center that speak to our hive of entrepreneurial activity. Phew! (Notice especially that Booty Family Farm has a sign that downplays the name Booty. (It’s on the left, second one up from the bottom.) That’s because for some reason people liked the old Booty Farm signs so much that they purloined them. We even found one hanging in an AMC hut in the mountains. Go figure.)

And as the weather in Northern New England can lead to stretches of cold and gray, some whimsical roadside art helps keep our mood light. (That and Wednesday evenings at the Corner House pub when local musicians entertain us.) On our own Mount Israel Road, colorful chainsaw art keeps us smiling. The pink panther is sometimes switched out for Tony the Tiger or a woman who looks vaguely like Pocahontas. (That’s my favorite Disney cartoon movie by the way. I still use a Meeko raccoon cup in the bathroom.) The totem-like eagle is wearing tails. Very Sandwich.

That’s my town, and I’m proud of it!