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Boston Globe

Alpine Cascades and beyond: Exploring Berlin, N.H.'s rugged beauty

A scene from Berlin, N.H. Miles Howard Get Starting Point A guide through the most important stories of the morning, delivered Monday through Friday. Enter Email Sign Up Just 10 minutes north of the Whites — a fond and familiar place — I have entered another world. As you approach downtown Berlin by way of 1st Avenue, a historical marker posted in front of a railroad bridge announces that you are heading into 'The City That Trees Built.' And that's not a metaphorical flourish. Berlin was the heart of New Hampshire's timber processing and paper production for over a century. Super-sawmills powered by the flow of the Androscoggin were followed by paper mills that operated through most of the 20th century. This industrial heyday yielded decades of prosperity for Berlin. By 1930, it was the Granite State's fourth-largest city and the first in the state to offer electric lighting, thanks to one of the mills' hydro power stations. Advertisement A scene from Berlin, N.H. Miles Howard The decline of the paper industry and the mass layoffs that followed sent thousands of Berlin residents to places elsewhere and left the city searching for its next chapter. And when I return from Alpine Cascades for a downtown stroll, I find glimmers of what's worked and what's still up in the air. The cooling tower of a wood-burning biomass plant looms near Main Street, where the brick buildings contain a mix of vacant storefronts and small businesses that feel more reflective of local life than the main drag in North Conway. Families are tucking into sundaes and floats at But the place that really calls out to me is Middle Earth — a soft-lit, labyrinthine gift store that defies categorization. On the first floor, I'm tempted by replicas of Egyptian canopic jars, colorful wind chimes, and miniature statues of dragons and fairies. On the adults-only second floor, I'm impressed by the collection of hand-crafted pipes and bongs housed in glass cases, and the range of sex toys and kinky apparel on display. But what's even more impressive is learning from the store's owner, Richard Poulin, that Middle Earth has been in business since the 1960s! Advertisement A scene from Berlin, N.H. Miles Howard Maybe I shouldn't be surprised. Industries rise and fall, but the human need for irreverence, pleasure, and discovery is evergreen. With my shopping bag in hand, I wander over from Main Street to the Dead River — one of the Androscoggin's tributaries, where a waterside path takes me through a lovely corridor of north country white birch trees. And looming up ahead is the mass of Jericho Mountain with its sweeping cliff faces — which I savor from the outdoor patio of The Middle Earth store in Berlin, N.H. Handout But the timber forests and the remaining hydropower stations aren't the only windows into Berlin's history as a place where natural resources were harvested. Craving another perspective of the city, I head to Berlin Middle High School, where a 0.8-mile trail leads to the top of Mount Jasper. I'm expecting the stone stairs and the bog bridges, but what's different are the illustrated signs along the trail that tell the story of how pre-contact Indigenous peoples traveled to Mount Jasper to quarry rhyolite rock — from which knives and arrowheads could be carved. Somehow, knowing this part of Berlin history makes the view from the windswept summit look even vaster. As it turns out, jaw-dropping vistas are the running theme for the end of my day in Berlin. One of the only New Hampshire state parks where I could grab a last-minute tent site reservation at the height of summer is Jericho Mountain State Park, which is hidden in the hills north of downtown. The spiderweb of ATV trails spanning the park's 7,400 acres are the prime recreational draw for visitors. (And with the help of local outfitters like Jericho Adventures and Northeast ATV Rentals, I might take my inaugural ride the next time I'm in town.) But the feature that makes my jaw drop is Jericho Lake; a big, beautiful body of water where I take in a pink-and-purple sunset from a lone wooden bench, before the inevitable whining of the mosquitoes sends me back to my tent. Advertisement A scene from Berlin, N.H. Miles Howard I'll be back here in the morning — to witness the sunrise and to case the periphery of the woods for the entrance to a pathway that leads to another thunderous cascade called Jericho Falls. Trees have built Berlin, and today, those woodlands contain many of its most wondrous secrets.