A Living Magazine - Day 350 - Homecoming - Nashua to Tyngsborough

I couldn't remember any dreams. I felt pretty good actually when I woke up. I packed for the final time in this spot,  and said goodbye to it, thanking the trees and critters for letting me share their space for these past days...

Now it was back to Market Basket to work through the hotter hours of the day. Jeff had given me a few bucks, so I was able to get a big lunch before I left. I have to apologize to him for not honoring his request to check out a bar called, Tilted Kilt. The funds were just too precious. And, no donations were forthcoming, despite my frequent requests.

There are no hard feelings about my readers not contributing. They have given so much in the last year that to expect them to now fund some crazy dream of having a "classy" night in Boston before returning to Maine, seemed less and less realistic. Anyhow, the lunch was well worth the money...

Huge meal for less than $6.

The author, before walking twelve miles to Massachusetts--pre-sweat.

It was hot again. And, as it always is after several days of being in one place, the walk was a bit uncomfortable on the old muscles and joints starting out. Had to remember the five mile rule (gets better after the first five miles)...

White and pink sea roses along Amherst Street on the way to downtown Nashua.

Turning toward Canal Street. 

I'd made a screenshot of the route through Nashua, but couldn't remember much about exactly where the turn toward Hudson was. I found a Dunkin Donuts on Main Street to check Google again and stood in line for a long time waiting to buy something cold. After about 10 minutes, one of the employees asked everyone if they wanted a mango smoothie for free (they'd made an extra by mistake). I waited about two seconds and then raised my hand. She gave to me, and I was quite psyched.

Sitting down and getting online, it was easy to see the route across the river to Ferry Street and Route 3-A. I made another screenshot for some other parts of the way to Tyngsborough, where I planned to spend the night. Then I hit the road and saw this place...

Portland Pie Company. I had no idea this place had expanded through New England.

Cool that it started in Portland, Maine.

Crossing the Ferry Street Bridge, and looking south down the Merrimack River.

I turned onto 3-A once in Hudson. It was pretty direct from there...

Aww... Poor birdie. It's a cold rough world out there for a tropical bird.

Hope they found her. 

And, a short way further...

It was quite a trek. I stopped into Walmart to buy some socks. At first discouraged by $8 prices, I walked around the other side of the rack and found one last pack of three pairs for $2.49. Score. I was concerned as I started back down 3-A that I hadn't vetted Tyngsborough for a sleep spot. I always forget to do at least one thing. I had kept an eye on the weather pretty closely for the last few days and knew Sunday (the next day) would be a rainy one.

I'd so badly wanted a hotel room somewhere to ride it out. But, alas, that was probably not going to happen. I didn't have enough money and not many places were near the Lowell area that still had rooms available. After stopping at a place Jeff had suggested, called Ayotte's Market to buy another Vitamin Water (they have a mango flavor now--my favorite fruit). I also saw a small whoopie pie. Hadn't had one of those in years...snagged it, along with a milk--duh!

Munching my whoopie and drinking my milk in the parking lot, I realized  I was right on the border between the two states. Cool. Time to get rolling again...

I've found both spellings. According to Wikipedia, both are correct.

Sorry about the blurry shot. I had to include the sign. It's my tradition.

It was about two and a half more miles to the bridge. The sun was going down and the sight was very beautiful...

I reached the bridge and caught some of the best views I'd seen of a bridge at sunset...

I like this panorama.

This has to be one of my favorite shots of all time. The geometry of the bridge, the angles, the arching--all in silhouette, and the gorgeous sky beyond. Wow!

I decided to look for a sleep spot right away. The river had railroad tracks running alongside, so that side of the road was off limits. Then just beyond the entrance for the Academy of Notre Dame High School, there was a tree-filled hill on the right. The Spark said, essentially, "Do it."

Watching for a time when no cars were coming, I jutted across the road and climbed the cliff to a semi-level area. It was relatively rough. I knew I'd have to leave as soon as possible in the morning, no later than 6:00 a.m., so I did the simplest set-up, just the tent.

The mosquitoes found me by the time I had the second tent pole in its sleeve. I crawled in followed by what I thought was only one mosquito. It turned out there were actually five! It didn't take long to fall asleep. 

Very early the next morning, well-before sunrise I heard what sounded like a little girl screaming, and woke up. I realized after the second "scream" that it was actually a female fox (called a "vixen") down by the river, probably calling for either her pups (sometimes called "kits") or her mate (males are called "tods" or "dogs"). She could have been defending herself against another animal, but I thought that unlikely, since few animals around this intown area would threaten an adult fox. They have a very distinct bark. Also, I recognized the kind of bark--one of desperation, and noticed that the sound moved slowly down the river bank. And, they don't resort to it unless they are worried about their companions.

I'd gotten used to this bark when I lived in North Saco, Maine, and recalled a tragic early morning there. There was the same desperate barking. I put on my shoes, left the camper I was staying in at the time and walked down the street to see what was going on. 

A fox was hopping around the field in the mist, barking and standing on her back legs to look around. Right before the edge of the field I found her mate, dead on the side of the road. He had just been hit by a car and was still bleeding. 

She was frantic out there in the grass. I knew that she would find him in a short time and I dreaded the sense of loss she would soon feel. But, it was better for her to find him than never know what happened. The next day around noon, I started my walk to downtown Saco and passed by the spot where the tod had fallen. I noticed little footprints all around his body. He had been dragged a short distance further from the road. She had tried to move him...

I fell back asleep, hoping that on this night, a fox couple might be reunited and they could raise their pups together.