On the waterfront itself

The bluff has been carved back to make room for a riverfront park by moving a road back.

After leaving the waterfall, the Cocheco River makes a sharp loop around the Washington Mill. Henry Law Park borders part of that sweep, but its public frontage is about to become three times longer.

Environmental cleanup of the river itself gave the city one more reason to move the public works department’s yard, which was around the bend, to another site, opening a choice piece of real estate at the Knuckle, where the river turns again. A marina sits on the opposite bank. Get the idea? You can sail to the ocean from here.

However, until the Tommy Makem traffic bridge was built a few years ago (any Irish music fans reading this?), the site was pretty isolated, connected by a narrow lane at the foot of a wooded bluff. The new bridge has allowed a bypass around a stretch of busy Central Avenue, but the sidewalk along the river feels pinched. That’s about to change.

The bluff has been removed. Yup. It’s been carved away to allow the street to be moved back away from the river to make room for a more pedestrian-friendly Waterfront Park at Dover Landing. Think of casually strolling or walking your dog or taking a stroller and a toddler for a walk. Maybe even just going out to sit with a book or catch a few rays on a blanket.

At the far end, down by the Knuckle, a mostly residential development will go in – behind the end of the new riverfront park. Say hi to your neighbors, that kind of thing.

The project has an additional touch. Our 29-acre Maglaras Park sits atop the slope, but getting there has required a circuitous route. That will change with the extension of Washington Street, directly linking that park to the waterfront and downtown across the river.

It will all redefine the city. Think what Central Park is for Manhattan or, closer to us, Piscataqua Park is for Portsmouth.

I’m impressed. What does your location have to offer?

Washington Street passes between two large mill buildings on its way to the new park. The stone building, upper center, is on Lower Square, where the Foster’s Place and Orpheum are rising.

Chapel Street

Corner view toward downtown. The windows are a common style in my town.

Two blocks east of the waterfalls, more residential units are going in on a hilltop site overlooking the river, at least from the rear units. This project does fill in the skyline as seen from the river and eliminates an eyesore.

Again, the emphasis is on pedestrian-friendly and the look is traditional New England. Note the “two-over-two” windows so common in my part of the state.

The development opens out at the back, where apartments will have views of the river below.

From daily news to daily views

 

The old Foster’s Daily News newspaper plant on Central Avenue is getting quite a makeover, now that the paper’s published elsewhere.

Just a block south from the waterfalls, the former Foster’s Daily Democrat newspaper plant is becoming mostly apartments. The newspaper office and printing press moved out to an industrial park a few years ago, leaving the triangular site vacant. One side is on busy Central Avenue, where the original building sprawled out onto some curious additions. The other side, on Henry Law Drive, was an uninviting cement-block wall, which in effect turned its back on the neighbors.

That backside is being opened up with doors and windows facing Henry Law Park and the river itself.

For added excitement, the park now includes a state-of-the-art playground as well as the New Hampshire Children’s Museum and a band shell for summer concerts.

In becoming Foster Place, the redesign includes new construction atop the old, rambling building. I’m curious to see how it plays out.

The repurposing has a parallel in my novel What’s Left, where Cassia’s family transforms a nondescript building into their expanded restaurant complex. I didn’t picture hers quite like this, but opening the wall and building more on top are part of the story. Much of the new design hinges on windows and doors carved out of the earlier walls.

Facing the park.

 

Ten facts about Laconia Bike Week

For nine days each June, the sound of Harley’s is heard everywhere across the Granite State. The annual Laconia Bike Week schedule ends on Father’s Day, just before the traditional summer vacation season begins.

  1. It’s the oldest rally in the country. It originated in 1916 when hundreds of motorcyclists convened on Weirs Beach in the city of Laconia. It was officially organized in 1923 as an annual event.
  2. A 1965 riot between motorcycle gangs and police cast a pall over the rally. Attendance plummeted.
  3. Civic boosters revived the event’s popularity in the 1990s to enhance tourism revenue.
  4. New Hampshire does not require motorcyclists to wear helmets. The freedom to feel the wind in your hair – or these days, for many, bald head, is a huge attraction as they tool along scenic, winding highways in the state’s mountainous Lakes Region.
  5. Deaths often accompany the rally. There were at least two fatal crashes in 2018.
  6. Weirs Beach on the shore of Lake Winnipesaukee is Ground Zero. It’s filled with vendors and jammed with parked bikes during the rally.
  7. It has the third- or fourth-highest attendance (400,000). Sturgis, North Dakota, is first (500,000 to 700,000 in August); Daytona, Florida, is second (450,000 to 550,000 in March); and the Bikes, Blues, and BBQ in Fayetteville, Arkansas, comes in about the same (400,000 in September).
  8. The event brings an estimated $100 million into the state.
  9. The Mount Washington Ride to the Sky is a bikes-only event to the top of the tallest summit in the Northeast. Snow is sometimes part of the attraction.
  10. The crowd is graying – but still mostly male and white.

The Orpheum

Shaping up on Washington Street.

Three blocks southwest from the Cocheco waterfalls, a cluster of dilapidated storefronts have fallen to make room for an imposing five-story mixed-use building. The design makes high-impact use of a somewhat triangular site and, in a deal with the city, a traffic bottleneck on the busy Chestnut-to-Locust streets connection will be eliminated, hopefully lessening congestion on Central Avenue as well.

Named for a small, long-gone movie theater in one of the storefronts it’s replacing, the Orpheum is adjacent to two landmark buildings of similar height. It shifts the center of gravity in the central business district from buildings facing Central Avenue, repositioning the center around the Lower Square intersection with Washington Street. City hall, the post office, public library, community center, and a new parking garage are all within a one-block orbit.

Visually, it’s also filling in the skyline – not one of high-rise towers, but one of some substance.

In contrast to what’s happening in Boston and, I assume, many other urban centers, Dover’s renaissance is small-scale. For me, that’s part of what makes all of this so exciting.

Visually, I like the way it looks like two buildings from some angles while giving a backdrop to lower buildings along Central Avenue when seen from others.

It looks like two buildings from this side. Or, from the rear, like a small courtyard. City hall is to the right.

 

 

Third Street

Three blocks northwest from the Cocheco waterfalls, this development is arising on a former narrow, triangular parking lot sitting between active railroad tracks and the downtown.

Having stores on both sides of the street should be more inviting to pedestrians and definitively anchor the north end of the downtown. The two buildings already make the street look more urban rather than fading away to one side.

It also gives the central business district more width than the Central Avenue spine alone. I am curious to see how it will appear fully clothed.

The Amtrak station is a block to the left, just out of sight, across from St. Mary church.

The walkway between the two buildings suggest a narrow European street to me. It does break up what might otherwise feel like a monolithic wall.
The view along Third Street.

 

First Street

A block upstream from the waterfall, Riparia went up a few years ago touting luxury apartments beside the Cocheco River. The project’s still looking for the right tenant on the ground floor, a restaurant or function room, most likely. These things take patience.

Riparia rises from what had been a parking lot along the river that bisects the downtown. I suppose it’s supposed to resemble an old mill – I’ve seen several in Maine that could be inspiration – but a vital downtown requires a critical population mass, and this is one more step in the right direction.

For the most part, Dover’s downtown sticks to Central Avenue parallel to the historic textile mill straddling the river. With its waterfront pathways, Riparia gives some pedestrian-friendly dimension to a sidestreet.

There were times when this would have been the ideal location for me to reside in. Just imagine, sitting on the deck on a summer evening and then stepping out on the town, for some live music or conversation, just a few blocks away. Back when I was single.

As seen from the Central Avenue bridge crossing the Cocheco River.

At Cocheco Falls

Cocheco Falls sits at the center of my small city. The tide rises and falls eight to ten feet at its base twice a day, connecting the downtown to the Atlantic Ocean 15 or so miles downstream. The river once provided the power to run textile mills that turned out world-famous calico in the 19th century. Dramatically, the river itself runs through an arch in the long building before turning sharply into an extended oxbow on its way to the sea.

Recently, the retaining wall on one side of the falls and a dam on top began to sag. The wall had once been overshadowed by another large mill that fell to fire years ago and is now a bank parking lot. Something had to be done before a cavein.

What’s going in is a whole new design, one that apparently will give people closer views of the cascading waters and the fish ladder beside it.

It’s a dramatic touch, one that reflects the magical attraction of waters in motion through the shifting seasons. Sometimes merely a trickle comes over the flashboards on the dam. Other times it’s so gushing so forcefully the entire mill building shakes.

In winter, deer have even had to be rescued from the rocks, or we’ve watched otters swimming in openings above the dam.

Who wouldn’t want to stop here for a moment?

What helps is having a vision of what a downtown can be. What’s unique to each place?

Dover’s been fortunate to have an economic development director and a city planner who find ways to get things done – often small things – as well Kiwanis and Rotary clubs and a Main Street organization that keep stepping up with improvements.

Crucially, the planning has the concept of pedestrian friendly. Or, as my wife likes to say, “civilized.” We can walk to downtown for a drink or a snack.

Not every town has a waterfall, after all. Let’s make the best of it, then.

Gone is the retaining wall that gave passersby a view of the falls from above. I’m hoping the new walkway will follow the fish ladder to the tide below.

The changing face of downtown Dover

The Robbins Block storefronts are now gone and a five-story Orpheum is rising in their place. The hardware store, lower right, is still there. From the top left are the library, community center, and district court.

When I moved to New Hampshire 32 years ago, downtown Dover – like many other city centers across northern New England – had definitely seen better days. The old textile mill dominating the heart of the city was largely boarded up, and the retail stores that remained did so out of faith and loyalty and family tradition. How could they hold out against the big-box stores at the mall?

And then along came some visionary developers like the late Joseph Sawtelle and David Bamford, as a turnaround slowly took hold. Sawtelle restored the mill as it welcomed offices and incubated entrepreneurial businesses, while Bamford rebuilt mixed-use retail and housing on Central Avenue – some of it tastefully looking more natively New England than what it replaced.

Now that I’ve been a Dover resident the past 19 years, let me say it’s wonderful living within walking distance of a living downtown, one with a small-town feel. As I tell my wife, when we venture out for a weekday brunch, many people drive halfway across the continent for this.

Big change is in the air, though. That center is shifting from being primarily a financial, retail, and office center to more of a residential destination, presumably for young adults, child-free couples, singles, and retirees – people looking for an urban setting close to the ocean and mountains.

Part of the shift has already happened with the top floors of the two biggest mills being converted to apartments, a reflection of soaring residential demand in our part of the state. But now it’s getting serious.

For a city of 30,000, having four significant and mostly residential buildings going up in the central business district is exciting, even before we get to the waterfront development about to unfold across the Washington Street bridge. (Admittedly, some of us do miss the quaint covered bridge for children and other pedestrians that was there when I moved to town 19 years ago, but I’ll go with the tradeoff – landing the children’s museum was a definite coup.)

This doesn’t just happen by accident. A lot of incremental steps over the past two decades have made this a more desirable place to live. And now it’s kicking in big time.

The former Strafford Bank building sits at the corner of Lower Square. The Barley Pub is gone, replaced by the Thirsty Moose.

On seeing pileated woodpeckers

The pileated woodpecker is one of the largest members ot the family, rather comical and awkward looking, at that. It’s also not commonly seen, so sightings are always exciting, at least if you have an eye for birds. (Pronounced PIE-lee-ay-tid or PILL-ee-ay-tid, by the way.)

I remember one of my first encounters was while having dinner with the Ostroms at their house perched atop a wooded ravine outside Bloomington, Indiana. One alighted just outside the window, to our shared surprise and wonder.

More recently, as I was driving with my elder daughter down a road in Maine, one was flying just ahead of us but veered off before she could look up.

A week later, on a different road, the same thing happened.

She accuses me of making those up.

So the other day, after a meeting at the Unitarian-Universalist Fellowship in Durham, I noticed two people in the parking lot who were staring at something in the trees just beyond. I caught the red head and then the full bird. Yup. Amazing, considering this was an urban neighborhood.

And then, on another trunk, I spotted on more red head and big body, which then swooped down to join the first.

The pileated ‘pecker is a large bird – 16 to 19 inches long with a wingspan up to 30 inches, as I’m reading, likely the largest of its family in North America – and they can do some serious damage to trees they decide to nest in. Think of a beaver with wings. Again, from some quick referencing online, I’d guess you can look for a nest based on the pile of wood chips below.

My companion, in her early 90s, apologized that she’s never been able to really see birds, not even as a child. “My eyesight’s always been poor,” she apologized. So much for a witness. At least she could attest that two others were also commenting on the birds before us.

As for said daughter? She insists I’m making this up, too.

For the record, I don’t think I ever seen more than one classic redheaded woodpecker in my life. Hairy woodpeckers and downeys and flickers, of course, are another matter. Old friends, I’d say.

Of course, the Woody Woodpecker cartoons don’t count, do they?

Not my picture, alas. Bird photography is truly a specialty.