East Branch Saco River

Coordinates: 44°05′44″N 71°09′52″W / 44.0956°N 71.1645°W / 44.0956; -71.1645

The East Branch of the Saco River is a 13.2 mile long (21.3 km) river in the White Mountains of New Hampshire in the United States. It is a tributary of the Saco River, which flows to the Atlantic Ocean in Maine.

The East Branch rises near the northern boundary of Jackson, New Hampshire in an area just south of the Wild River, east of Black Mountain, and southwest of the Baldface mountains. The river flows south through the White Mountain National Forest in an area that is devoted more to logging than other portions of the forest. Leaving the forest, the river enters the town of Bartlett, reaching the Saco River at Lower Bartlett village, just downstream of the Ellis River confluence with the Saco.

Famous quotes containing the words east, branch and/or river:

    The majority of the men of the North, and of the South and East and West, are not men of principle. If they vote, they do not send men to Congress on errands of humanity; but while their brothers and sisters are being scourged and hung for loving liberty,... it is the mismanagement of wood and iron and stone and gold which concerns them.
    Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862)

    In communist society, where nobody has one exclusive sphere of activity but each can become accomplished in any branch he wishes, society regulates the general production and thus makes it possible for me to do one thing today and another tomorrow, to hunt in the morning, fish in the afternoon, rear cattle in the evening, criticize after dinner, just as I have a mind, without ever becoming hunter, fisherman, shepherd or critic.
    Karl Marx (1818–1883)

    We approached the Indian Island through the narrow strait called “Cook.” He said, “I ‘xpect we take in some water there, river so high,—never see it so high at this season. Very rough water there, but short; swamp steamboat once. Don’t paddle till I tell you, then you paddle right along.” It was a very short rapid. When we were in the midst of it he shouted “paddle,” and we shot through without taking in a drop.
    Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862)