Maybe six or seven years ago now, the traveling circus had me up in New England for a couple years on an extended engagement. The day-to-day work tempo was fast and furious, but this one summer I somehow managed to snag an entire week off. And if you’ve never been to that part of the world, there’s really only one must-see destination in the whole region. That’s right, I’m talking about God’s Country, the Mecca of family vacations: North Conway, New Hampshire.
I’ve heard this place is a bustling ski destination during the winter, but during the summer it’s a paradise for all those families who just don’t feel like trucking all the way down I-95 to Walt Disney World. North Conway is absolute heaven for kids, with an endless array of things to do, from the Story Land amusement park to that legendary watering hole, the Muddy Moose. And even on those days when you don’t feel like burning through cash, the nearby Kancamagus Highway or Franconia Notch State Park offer some awesome outdoor experiences.
All seemed right with the world on this trip, at least until one afternoon towards the end of our visit. The kids were in a daze of happiness after spending the morning at Kahuna Laguna, but our itinerary was left with a couple blank hours before dinner. Somehow or other we’d heard that the Hartmann Model Railroad Museum could be a fun indoor activity, and this sounded like a decent option to kill some time. Our youngest absolutely loved trains at the time, so at first this visit sounded like a stroke of genius. For only five bucks a head admission, the kids got to wander through a steel-truss warehouse which held ten different model railway setups, along with the owner’s HUGE collection of antique toys. Never mind that there weren’t any stools in the place, so I had to keep hoisting the kids up onto my shoulders for a better view; forget about the fact that the place had a slight odor of stale urine throughout; the kids were happy, so I was too.
But there’s no denying, the crown jewel of the Hartmann Model Railroad Museum is the ride-on railroad train set up in the yard, with its scale-model track that winds around the entire property. Of course the kids wanted to buy tickets and take a spin, but for some reason my Spidey Senses began tingling as the museum employee turned us away. He launched into some twisted explanation of how the Museum was prohibited from selling tickets for the train ride, or else the thing would be legally classified as an “amusement” under New Hampshire state law. So, what they’ve decided to do is skirt the law by “giving away” free rides to customers… so long as you purchase a souvenir during your visit. That tax avoidance scheme sounded a little shady to me, but who am I to judge, me and my fantasy football pool? And besides, by that point in the trip I was wholeheartedly embracing the whole New Hampshire spirit, that “Live Free or Die Tryin’” independent streak that inspires people to stick it to the man. So what happened was, we ended up dropping another ten dollars on a pair of crappy watercolors that we hoped might “disappear” into the recycling bin once we got home. That done, we left the museum and went to start our ride.
Turns out, the actual train rides we were after began at a separate building on the same compound, a hobby shop run by this fussy German-looking guy. While my kids bounced around outside, “Hans” brusquely informed me that the train rides were only free when you bought a souvenir from a designated table within the hobby store building— not the museum warehouse we’d just visited. He pointed me towards a card table full of t-shirts and keychains, each priced anywhere from eight to twenty dollars, along with some watercolors that looked identical to the ones I’d just bought. There was also a loose stack of sad “coloring books,” which were basically just stapled photocopies of Thomas the Tank Engine print-outs… each of them marked at eight bucks. Of course, the watercolor pictures that I’d already purchased over at the museum building didn’t qualify for a “free ticket”, and it instantly became clear why that “no refunds, no exchanges” sign had been posted so visibly over the cash register!
Yes, it stung a little, having to dig deep and shell out another sixteen bucks for a couple of “free tickets,” but I’ll be the first one acknowledge my fellow slick carnies and their well-run tourist trap. After all, game needs to recognize game. And even though we ended up wasting fifty bucks for a two-hour visit with four people, I’m man enough to admit that the five-minute train ride was actually kind of fun. Not fifty bucks worth of fun, mind you, but my kids didn’t seem to mind the price. So I guess that was why I didn’t even bother to cause a scene, like I might have done in my younger days. Instead, I took the passive-aggressive route and used my writerly skills to leave a stinging review on Yelp once we’d got back home.
As it turned out, I wasn’t the only one who’d had a similar encounter with “Hans.” In the idyllic land of North Conway, the Hartmann Model Railroad Museum had a well-earned reputation for price gouging. In a weird way, it was actually kind of gratifying to read the reviews and see that so many other people had gone down the same road. Misery loves company, right? And I’ve got a feeling that there might even have been something more significant going on at this place… a couple months after the traveling circus shipped us off from New England, I actually had a reporter from the Washington Post reach out through Yelp, wanting to discuss my experience in more detail. Nice try, hack— this guy’s no snitch.
Honestly, the Hartmann Model Railroad Museum hadn’t even crossed my mind for many years, at least not until I came across this news article from the Conway Daily Sun a few months ago. Turns out, the museum was scheduled to close down forever at the end of 2018… but for some reason, I doubt the world outside of New Hampshire will miss “Hans” and his minions. Tourist trap operators, take note, because there’s got to be some kind of lesson here. No idea what it is, though…