Covered bridges, like lighthouses, are one of those things that seem to have a strange kind of rustic charm that lures people in. There must be a fascination about them, really, to cause such a fuss. Since moving to New England I’ve seen maps with their locations, organized tours, books, calendars, coffee cups, sweatshirts-you name it and I’ve seen a covered bridge on it. There’s even one on a back road in the town I live in, a single laned covered bridge that draws tourists into traffic jams like bees to honey. Apparently, in the scheme of things to see in New England, they’re a pretty big deal.
So imagine my surprise when we wandered upon one out in the middle of nowhere while taking a sideroad to a hiking trail off the Kancamagus Highway. It was the first nippy day of fall, and instead of hiding inside under a blanket next to the pellet stove, we went for a hike to explore new places. And this hidden treasure was our reward 🙂