There are eighteen different Oak Hills in New Hampshire alone. Twenty, if you include White Oak Hill and Red Oak Hill. And these are just the ones I can find documented on Peakbagger.com. I’m sure if I kept looking, I would find others.
I imagine the frequently used naming convention came from several towns springing up simultaneously in the early years of the state’s history. Citizens looking to establish their new towns probably took it upon themselves to name the surrounding landscape. See that hill over yonder there, Elias, with all of the oak trees on it? We’ll call that Oak Hill.
Manchester’s Oak Hill
Today I found myself near Trinity’s athletic fields for one of my kids. After taking care of a couple of things for work, I returned to the area and stretched my legs on the trails in the surrounding Derryfield Park, which encompasses one of New Hampshire’s eighteen Oak Hills.
It’s called Oak Hill, but I saw more red pine than anything else. Looked like red pine to me, anyway! I’m still a terrible botanist.
I’m not going to lie—this area can look very different depending on the day. Sometimes the trails feel welcoming and warm, like they did today. Other times, when yours is the only car in the lot and the sky is overcast and dreary, your mind might wander toward those stories of people getting murdered on other hiking trails in Manchester.
But I’ve always enjoyed my time on these trails. I think it’s just a spooky vibe that creeps in now and then, mostly based on the weather. Although today, I did come across some vandalism and disturbing graffiti. Since this is public land, I submitted a report to the city of Manchester in the hopes someone might address it. I find graffiti on nature irritating enough—but when it’s laced with hate speech, it’s gotta go, and fast.
I don’t want to share the image here, because why give it the attention it wants? But yes, there was a swastika—along with a bunch of other satanic crap. I found it near a stretch of fencing that had been peeled back, meant to keep the public out of the reservoir. Behind the fence was a path that led to an area called Amoskeag Ledge, and that’s where I found the graffiti. And the creeps.
Weston Observatory Tower
At the top of Oak Hill is a stone tower called Weston Observatory. It’s gated and closed up, but a cool edifice nonetheless. It was built in honor of a former governor—with his own money, apparently—and it seems to be the only remaining symbol commemorating the poor guy’s life.
In front of the tower are two cannons I can’t find much information about. ChatGPT tells me they’re 1812-era Dahlgren cannons, brought to Manchester in 1896, but I haven’t found anything to confirm that on Google. Couldn’t find anything in real life either. No plaques, no historical markers, no archival mentions—nothing. So, for now, I’m running with Chat’s version: they’re from 1812!
They’re also apparently in worse shape than they were a decade ago, at least according to an old article I found.
McIntyre Ski Area
If you walk a little farther, you’ll find yourself on top of McIntyre Ski Area—where locals can get in some turns during the winter without having to drive at least an hour farther north. I’ve lived in the area for twenty years now, and this is the first time I’ve actually seen it. Looks like there’s a good restaurant at the bottom. Might have to check it out.
Exploring for the Feet and the Mind
Even though this isn’t a mountain, I love hiking up and checking out these little places—especially when they’re tied to a bit of forgotten history. There’s so much sitting right under our noses that we forget. And it’s a shame to see people damage the property.
Some might argue, “Who cares if a couple of cannons fall down? Symbols of war aren’t welcome.” But military artifacts, despite being cool to look at, also show how far we’ve come and what we don’t want to return to. They honor the past and serve as warnings for the future. Plus, I love me a good cannon.
But I guess some don’t. These two are frequently graffitied, and one now appears to have its base knocked apart. Maybe someone actually did like it and was trying to steal it?
Looks like someone took a sledgehammer to the cannon’s base on the left.
Heading Out
All in all, this area could look pretty dang sweet with a little more stewardship—but I get that it’s hard. It’s tough to keep pulling toward the positive when so many negatives are working against you. When the city puts in the effort to restore the area, only to have its own citizens vandalize it, it’s disheartening. It can feel like—what’s the point?
But if you go back and look at the pictures above, you’ll see most of the area is really beautiful. And the part I didn’t show? It’s just a sliver of the landscape. A tiny percentage. If this post focused only on that, it might be all you think about—like an unwanted pimple on a beautiful face. But if we don’t zero in on the blight and instead look at everything that’s right, it doesn’t seem like such a monumental effort to improve what’s not working.