Chasing Fall Through New England

There is something almost impossible to describe about New England in the fall.

You can see a thousand photographs of brilliant red maples, winding mountain roads, covered bridges, rocky coastlines, and little towns tucked among the trees. But being surrounded by it is different. Sometimes the colors are so intense they don’t quite look real.

In the fall of 2024, I took a road trip through New England that gave me all of that—and quite a few unexpected adventures along the way.

I wasn’t the one who planned this particular trip, which was actually a wonderful change for me. I got to simply go along for the ride, look out the window, and enjoy whatever came next.

And there was a lot to enjoy.

Starting With a Little History in Plymouth

Our first stop was Plymouth, Massachusetts.

I’m not much of a history buff, so Plymouth Rock probably wouldn’t have been something I would have put on my own must-see list. But that’s one of the nice things about traveling—you sometimes end up places you wouldn’t have chosen yourself.

We saw Plymouth Rock, the Mayflower II, and spent some time along Plymouth Harbor. It was cool to stand in a place I’d heard about since elementary school, even if I was probably more interested in looking out at the sea than contemplating American history.

And here’s a fun fact I learned later: there is no contemporary written record proving that the Pilgrims actually stepped onto Plymouth Rock. The rock wasn’t identified as their landing place until more than a century later.

So apparently I traveled all the way to Massachusetts to look at a rock that may or may not be the rock.

Still glad I saw it.

Lighthouses and the Rocky Coast of Maine

From Massachusetts, we headed north into Maine—and this is where the scenery really started speaking my language.

Ocean. Rocks. Trees. Lighthouses.

We visited Portland Head Light in Cape Elizabeth, one of those places that looks exactly the way you imagine coastal Maine should look. The lighthouse rises above a rugged rocky shoreline with the Atlantic stretching beyond it.

We also saw Cape Elizabeth Light at Two Lights, and later in the trip, Owls Head Light and Curtis Island Light.

I apparently saw quite a few lighthouses on this trip.

There’s something about a lighthouse that makes you stop and look, even when you’ve already seen several. Maybe it’s the setting. Maybe it’s the history. Or maybe it’s simply that they tend to be perched in some of the prettiest places imaginable.

A Rainy Day in a Magical Garden

One of my favorite stops in Maine was the Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens in Boothbay.

It rained that day.

And somehow, that didn’t make the gardens any less beautiful.

If anything, the rain seemed to intensify everything. The woods smelled strongly of pine, the colors looked richer, and dahlias were still blooming in brilliant shades of orange, pink, and purple.

Scattered throughout the property were enormous wooden troll sculptures created by artist Thomas Dambo. Finding them tucked among the trees made exploring the gardens feel a little like wandering through a fairy tale.

One of my favorite discoveries was much quieter: a larch tree glowing gold.

Larches are unusual conifers because they change color and lose their needles in autumn. Seeing those soft golden needles among the surrounding evergreens was beautiful—and apparently memorable, because I still remembered that tree almost two years later.

Sometimes it’s the smallest things that stay with you.

Acadia: Not Quite What I Expected

Next came Acadia National Park.

This might be travel-blog blasphemy, but I’ll say it anyway:

I found parts of Acadia a little underwhelming.

Maybe I’d heard so much about it that my expectations were simply too high. It was beautiful, certainly, but the park as a whole didn’t affect me quite the way I expected it to.

The coastline, however, was another story.

The blue of the Atlantic against Acadia’s massive pink granite rocks was absolutely gorgeous. Those are some of my favorite photographs from the entire trip.

We stopped at Thunder Hole, a narrow rocky inlet where incoming waves can force air and water into the cavern and create a booming sound. I even managed to photograph Thunder Hole—just apparently not while it was doing anything particularly thunderous.

Then there was the Precipice Trail.

For a brief and apparently overly confident moment, we considered doing it.

The trail involves steep exposed cliffs, iron rungs, ladders, and climbing.

We reconsidered.

I have no regrets.

The Little Garden That Stole the Show

One of the biggest surprises came after Acadia.

We visited Asticou Azalea Garden in Northeast Harbor, and the fall colors were spectacular.

This wasn’t a massive national park or a famous scenic highway. It was a peaceful little garden with a pond, carefully shaped trees, winding paths, and some of the brightest autumn color I’d seen.

The reflections in the water were incredible.

It was a good reminder that sometimes the places you expect to be the highlights aren’t—and the little places you almost could have missed become some of your favorite memories.

Into the White Mountains

From Maine, the trip carried us into New Hampshire and the White Mountains.

By this point, fall was putting on a serious show.

There were mountains covered in red, orange, yellow, and green, winding roads disappearing into forests, rivers running over huge rocks, and covered bridges appearing along the way.

Mount Washington was already wearing winter at the top.

Normally, visitors can drive the Mount Washington Auto Road to the summit, but conditions had other plans for us. Snow and ice had closed the road.

Down below, we were surrounded by autumn.

Up there, it was winter.

That contrast was pretty incredible.

And yes—it was COLD.

There are photographs of me bundled up to my chin that provide all the evidence necessary.

Fall on the Kancamagus Highway

The Kancamagus Highway — or simply “the Kanc,” as it’s commonly called — was exactly what I had hoped New England in autumn would look like.

The Kanc is a scenic drive through the White Mountains of New Hampshire, stretching from Lincoln to Conway. We drove it from one end to the other and then back again, which gave us plenty of opportunities to stop and explore along the way.

And there was plenty to stop for.

The road winds through the mountains, and around nearly every bend was another view worth pulling over for. We crossed covered bridges, followed the Swift River, stopped at Lower Falls, and wandered into the woods.

At one point, we left the highway and followed a trail through the forest to a waterfall. I don’t remember the name of that waterfall anymore.

I remember the walk.

I remember the rocks and trees.

I remember the water.

And honestly, that’s enough.

Not every beautiful place needs to become a fact I can recite later.

Sometimes it’s enough to remember how it felt to be there.

Up Loon Mountain—and Into the Rocks

One of the most fun adventures of the trip happened at Loon Mountain.

We rode the gondola up through hillsides blazing with fall color. From above, the mountains seemed to roll endlessly into the distance, covered in patches of red, orange, gold, and evergreen.

And then we discovered the Glacial Caves.

Calling them a “trail” doesn’t quite convey what was involved.

The route winds through enormous granite boulders, and there were places where I had to duck, climb, squeeze, crawl, and figure out exactly how I was going to get my body through the next opening.

Some of those spaces were tight.

But I climbed all the way through and up them.

And yes, I’m still proud of myself for that one.

Vermont: Pretty Roads, Covered Bridges, and Shopping

Vermont was quieter for me.

There weren’t as many big attractions that stand out in my memory. Instead, I remember beautiful roads, rivers, brilliant trees, and covered bridges.

Lots of covered bridges.

One even had an old sign warning travelers:

WALK YOUR HORSES OR PAY TWO DOLLARS FINE.

Thankfully, this wasn’t an issue for us.

And then there was the Vermont Country Store.

I have no photographic evidence of this part of the trip, which is unfortunate because I had an absolute blast shopping there.

Sometimes you don’t take pictures because you’re too busy enjoying yourself.

A Little Piece of the Appalachian Trail

Before heading home, we drove to the summit of Mount Greylock, the highest point in Massachusetts.

The views stretched across layers of mountains and valleys, with autumn color scattered across the landscape.

On the way back down, we stopped and walked a short section of the Appalachian Trail through the woods.

Now, I certainly can’t claim that I hiked the Appalachian Trail.

But technically?

My feet have been on it.

I’m counting it.

One Last Show

Even the drive home seemed determined to squeeze a little more beauty out of the trip.

Brilliant red trees appeared along the road beneath bright blue skies. There were oranges, yellows, deep burgundies, and trees that seemed almost fluorescent in the sunlight.

It was the perfect ending to a trip filled with rocky coastlines, lighthouses, gardens, mountains, waterfalls, covered bridges, giant trolls, tiny caves, and more fall color than I could possibly photograph.

Looking back through these pictures nearly two years later, I realized how much I’d forgotten.

I’d forgotten some of the names.

I’d forgotten exactly where certain pictures were taken.

I’d even forgotten a few of the things we’d done until a photograph brought the memory rushing back.

But I hadn’t forgotten the beauty.

And maybe that’s one of the reasons photographs matter so much.

They don’t just show us where we’ve been.

Sometimes they give a piece of our lives back to us.

And this one was beautiful.