Of a certainty, when we were young we travelled light. My husband has always been an explorer of sorts, always wanting to travel and look about the world. Which is to say the world close at hand and in its farther reaches. He is restless, and he likes to be on the move. From the time we were young we were, when it was feasible, on the move.

We were on the move last Tuesday. No longer young, we no longer travel light. Not that we were going too far; about a six-hour drive from our home takes us to New Hampshire in the United States, from our Ottawa home. And although the cottage we rent for a week at a time, spring and fall, is fully equipped with a working kitchen we pack along things that a basic kitchen doesn't have; graters, casserole baking dishes, cutting boards, special knives, things like that. A pizza pan too, of course.

And clothing, plenty of that. We'd checked the ten-day weather forecast repeatedly for the Waterville Valley. At first it was truly dismal, cool and rainy, day after day. The day before we left it changed completely, so that the day we were to leave was destined to be rainy, but the five following days sunny with unseasonably mild temperatures and rain again only on the day we would leave our vacation to return home.

We've got our two little dogs to think about; grooming stuff, sweaters in case it is cold, towels to wipe them off if they get wet, and their beds. Oh yes, their food and their treats. And my husband always packs extra extension cords, packing tape and cardboard in case he makes an acquisition at the various antique shops we pop into, to wrap anything he buys carefully for transit back home.

Once the business of packing the box of the truck was complete -- including a large freezer chest to haul back unused food we'd bought while there, my husband prepared a thermos of coffee for himself and a thermos of tea for me, while I put together a brunch of clementines, bananas, and peanut butter sandwiches. We fed the puppies, had them out in the back a few times, and then, when all was done, off we drove. Into a cool, overcast morning; not very early, but good enough.

We had lots to talk about during the drive to access the new highway skirting Montreal. We had occasional breaks in the overcast sky when the sun shone on farmers' fields and small towns we skirted to the Quebec border and beyond. At the border where we crossed into the United States it was gratifying for a change to come across a welcoming, friendly customs officer, unlike the bad-tempered, hostile agents we most often encounter. When I mentioned how appreciative we were of his professional attitude, the man smiled broadly and in a southern-tinctured voice remarked that he was only reflecting the attitude of the people he responded to. Which never worked with the taciturn ones.

A few kilometres on from the border stop was the Vermont rest stop operated as a courtesy to the travelling public, which offered tourism pamphlets, free coffee, and pleasant people manning the building. Oh, also clean and plentiful restrooms. We always seek out one of the picnic tables/benches on the well-cared for lawns and plunk ourselves down to enjoy a late brunch before travelling on. Jackie and Jillie appreciate the opportunity to stretch their little legs in a bit of a roundabout there, and helpfully participate in our brunch.

From there it always seems a short drive to the border with New Hampshire and our arrival at the Franconia Notch. By this time, 2:30 p.m., the sky was semi-clear, the air comfortably mild and somewhat windy. Conditions for viewing the mountains on either side as we passed were excellent; sometimes they're shrouded in fog while mist rises from the slopes. Many years ago we climbed summits like Indian Head, Little Haystack, Lincoln and Mount Lafayette; now we're content to just view them.

A half-hour later we pulled in to the site in the Waterville Valley where we would be staying for the next seven days, with the intention of doing some trail hiking and moseying about the White Mountain national forest and the Presidential Range. We didn't need to procure a permit this time because when we were there in June we'd gotten a permit good for a year. We greeted our genial hosts, unpacked the truck, settled things in the cottage and went off to do the grocery shopping a half hour's distance, for the week.