The childhood of a river

See the rip-roaring birth of the Connecticut River in NH

For the first 10 years of my life, whenever I caught a glimpse of the Connecticut River, the first and only thought that came to mind was, “That is a big fucking river.” The rumbling leviathan of New England waterways, the Connecticut River runs south for 406 miles, sloshing through four states before emptying into Long Island Sound. It’s flanked by cities like Springfield, Massachusetts and Hartford, Connecticut. Rainbow trout, landlocked salmon, American eels, and shortnose sturgeon are just a handful of the fish that call the Connecticut River home. And for many of us, simply looking at the immensity of New England’s longest river with a sense of wonder and bewilderment is enough.

But during high school, right around the time when I first watched Apocalypse Now, a different thought about the Connecticut River crept into my mind. What would you find if you followed this long river all the way to its beginning, up in the northernmost reaches of New Hampshire? I had never traveled north of the White Mountains before—to the Great North Woods. Here, in this mysterious and sparsely populated realm of timber lands, snowmobile tracks, and forgotten hiking trails, the river takes shape. And thanks to the relentless labor and imagination of trail builders who’ve managed to bring some of these ancient pathways back to life, it’s now possible to visit the Connecticut River’s inaugural ripples and rapids. In the summer or fall, it’s magical. In the winter, when the evergreen conifers of the Great North Woods become snow cones, this hike—the Falls In The River Trail—takes on a new level of grandeur.