I went camping in Coleman State Park way up in northern New Hampshire last weekend. I highly recommend it for anyone who enjoys camping far away from pampered campers and their giganto RVs.
There is wildlife all over the park, especially loons and moose. But the big surprise was capturing photographic evidence that at least one Bigfoot lives in New Hampshire’s Great North Woods:
At approximately 5’3″ and with a footprint around a men’s 7.5 US, this creature isn’t anywhere near “big,” but it is very hairy, has a foul odor, and avoids contact with most humans.
click for comic
I’m going camping this weekend, and I wrote this comic to prepare myself. By the time you read this, I’ll probably be deep in the New Hampshire woods, getting mauled by a Libertarian bear.
Don’t use this guide until you’re wearing Mr. P’s stylish wilderness color schemes. Yellow slickers and safety orange are for assholes.
Bostonish Folks: Read all about the August 29th Big Fat Whale Event!
Next Week: Awful Comic Book Villains
After a surprisingly quick drive-thru chat with the US Border Patrol, I spent a couple of days in the Vermont wilderness, where I happened upon the rare natural phenomenon known as the Harpoon BBQ Fest.
I like Vermont. It is the New Englandiest state in New England. For the curious, here are my rankings from most New Englandy to least: Vermont, Massachusetts, Maine, New Hampshire, Rhode Island, Connecticut (Eastern half only). These rankings are final and binding.
Now I’m back home trying to make a cartoon and catch up on everything else that makes me such a miserable asshole before I move a couple blocks down the street this weekend. If I missed an email or two, keep resending that bad boy! I’ll get back to you eventually.
I hiked Mt. Moosilauke in New Hampshire this past Saturday with Greg. I put some photos up here and Greg has a more detailed account with more photos here. I would’ve kept this adventure to myself if it weren’t for what happened next.
On our way back, we were stopped at a Border Patrol checkpoint on I-93, about 75 miles south of the Canadian border. During this unwarranted search, the agents asked about our citizenship status and our purpose for being in the Granite State. Mr. Nosy agent also took a good look around at the contents of our car. They were backed up by New Hampshire State Police, presumably to harass anyone who refused the search, as is every person’s right. Here’s a reactionary, xenophobic take on the same checkpoint and here’s a more reasonable discussion.
Convinced this was total bullshit, I did some searching when I got back and learned this has been going on throughout many of the border states. Claiming jurisdiction over anywhere within 100 miles of the US border, the Border Patrol routinely sets up these checkpoints, although usually in the states that border Mexico. Because as we all know, Mexicans are generally browner (i.e. scarier) than the Quebecois.
When the fuck did this happen? I have to be inconvenienced because the Border Patrol can’t do their job at the goddamn border? The fact that this happened in the “Live Free or Die” state would be hilarious if it weren’t so infuriating.
ATTN nosy Border Patrol agents: I’m visiting Montreal in two months. If you insist on searching me twice, I’m going to lay greasy poutine farts over all my stuff, particularly my luggage, my trunk, and naturally, my butt. Happy searching!
UPDATE: A commenter over at Universal Hub points to this Supreme Court case from 1976 that upheld this insane practice. But I’ve been a visitor to the White Mountains for over two decades and never saw this done before. Another commenter makes the reasonable assumption that it might be retaliation for NH’s refusal to comply with REAL ID.
Aren’t I about twenty years too old to have poison ivy? Either way, I have it on both of my arms. I also have minor scrapes on my left leg. I might complete the look by walking around with a propeller beanie on my head and a slingshot in my back pocket.
Lately I’ve been spending a lot of time at Harold Parker State Forest. I’m just starting to put together a mental map of the place, but what I’ve found so far has been a lot of fun to ride.
That’s a self-portrait I call “Bad Posture Shadow.” More photos and silly captions can be found on my Flickr page.
Speaking of mountain biking, tick bites are uncommon while biking. Unless you’re a moron President who doesn’t use DEET. Let’s hope the fucker gets West Nile and EEE too. He’ll hit the insect-borne trifecta!
After a couple weeks of being a shitty useless lump, I finally took the bike out to Borderland, my favorite place to ride in southeastern Massachusetts. I wasn’t in as bad shape as I thought I would be and was sailing along. Until a dick of a sapling slapped me in the face. I was on these elevated planks and it quickly threw me off balance.
The bike immediately fell of the planks, but thanks to momentum, I continued forward, sans bicycle. I escaped with just a minor cut and and some bruises that have yet to surface, but I fear my fork went kaput. A mile or so later it started making this horrendous clanging sound and oil started dribbling out of the stanchions.
I’m about to take it to the shop. Let’s hope Ol’ Bikey is fixable and I don’t need to buy a whole new fork.
I’m a stupid asshole and have a shitload of work to do before leaving for the AAEC convention in DC. But if you start to miss me, check out Greg’s post about our hike through the Mahoosuc Notch this past weekend. I was almost trampled by a moose. Well, no more than 20 yards away from being trampled. I’m now considering becoming the Timothy Treadwell of moose.