It’s come to my attention that if I don’t want to turn into a completely miserable person I need to get out into nature at least once a week when possible. So that’s what we did – this time we ended up at the Blue Hills Reservation for a day of hiking.
The weather was perfect – not too hot, not too cold, and with the trees changing into their vibrant Autumn colors it was just pure bliss to be out here. And we had also decided to bring Stormy the cat along in her little soft cat carrier in the hopes of trying out her harness for the first time.
We parked in the first parking lot we came across and tried to find a trail at random but there were a lot and many crisscrossed and none of them seemed like they were marked with titles… All we knew was that we were trying to reach the summit where there was the ruins of an old observation tower and a weather station. Upward we went!
If we are to believe the signs we only climbed about half a mile from the parking lot before we found what we came for – a big stone structure just quietly sitting in the woods surrounded by picnic tables and overlooked by a tower to one side. I chucked at the old decaying fireplace which had “No fires” written on it. This seemed to be a lovely place to play with the lighting and do a bit of whimsical and nature photography. There were other people about, some even had dogs, but everyone was pleasant and respectful. And that was all good because up until this point I had been struggling with a migraine and such intense dizziness and nausea that I had to take several breaks on my way up. I was asked why I had even bothered to go out on this day but it wasn’t that bad earlier on in the morning when we had left! Such is the nature of my life.
When we got to the top we stopped and let Stormy out of her carrier to go explore a bit with wide eyes. She was very unsure of the place but seemed to settle in a little bit until other hikers would walk by and she’d fixate on them like they were monsters come to eat her. It’s weird as we had both thought she’d been plenty exposed to people up until this point. She didn’t even seem to care about the dogs!
I left her and her human to climb to the top of the observation tower a story above. It was primitive but beautiful and the view on this Autumn day was as breath taking as you’d expect. So many vibrant trees spread over the landscape and off in the distance you could see the city of Boston. I have found Boston to be a strange place – still surrounded by a lot of woods. Eventually my companion made it up here too with the cat and we all enjoyed this great view.
The weather station was a quarter of a mile up another trail, basically just around the corner but it was being renovated and not open to visitors until 2023. Fair enough. On our way down we took the Abigail Adams Trail and ended up in a totally different parking lot, having to walk a little ways past the visitor center to a different parking lot where we found the car still minding it’s own.
This excursion was brief but very enjoyable. I would call the trail short but moderate difficulty as it was mostly a steady incline with lots of rocks with which we had to scrabble across. Not appropriate for anyone who needs a flat or very easy trail, and not enough of a challenge for people into real hiking. The perfect in between!
Before I start this I want to warn my readers it is a VERY information and photo heavy entry so if you’re here for the pretty gravestone photos feel free to scroll down to the gallery at the bottom of the text and if you’re here for a good chunk of New England history just read on as I take you down this deep deep rabbit hole with me!
It’s funny, I have been loitering around the Newport area for a few years now and although I had always wanted to check out the local cemetery it took me this long to actually get there. But let me tell you it was WELL WORTH the wait! This was one of the most interesting cemeteries I have ever had the joy of wandering through and part of that is because it’s actually seven separate cemeteries that have bled into each other to make one massive burial ground that dates back to our earliest settlements. The oldest parts of the cemetery were founded in 1640 and the newest are from the present day. All together there are thousands of memorials here.
During the colonial era Newport RI was also our largest port, even bigger than Boston at the time, and as such it was always a thriving multicultural area. The cemetery very much reflects this with various sections dedicated to different cultures, religions, and ethnicities. Here you’ll find the country’s oldest Jewish cemetery which dates back to the colonial era and contains mostly a thriving multi-nationl seafaring community as well as God’s Little Acre which is the the largest (and possibly only) cemetery dedicated to both enslaved and free blacks, also of the colonial era. It was these 250 or so slate stones I had especially wanted to see because they are soooo rare, and such a precious historical archive of an otherwise silenced community whose contributions have been largely looked over.
And it’s not only me who recognizes the need to preserve this historic landmark. Intense efforts to restore and preserve what is left here have been underway since the early 1990’s and continue to this day. There were even three stones which were returned to the cemetery after being found in various residences around RI and Pennsylvania. What they were doing in Pennsylvania is a bit of a mystery but one of these stones belonged to a famous woman at the time – Duchess Quamino. Duchess was a woman of remarkable standing. She came to Newport aboard a slave ship as a child, having been born somewhere in Africa. She was then bought by the Channing family who utilized her as a maid and cook. While enslaved she somehow managed to get in the good grace’s of the white church the Channings attended and was able to start her own bakery and catering business becoming the US’s first successful female black business owner.
During this time she married a slave from a different household and eventually had at least four children. Her husband was able to win a lottery and obtain his own freedom but it seems Duchess may have already been a free woman by then. No records exist to show how this happened – if she bought her freedom with the money she made baking or if she was simply granted her freedom. Either way she continued her business and eventually became so famous she earned the moniker “Pastry Queen of Rhode Island” and her delicious baked goods were served to a visiting George Washington at least twice.
Also worth noting was possibly the country’s first professional black artist – Pompe Stevens – who was a stone carver and possibly the one responsible for the distinct black features on the cherub’s heads carved into the stones in God’s Little Acre. He was enslaved by the biggest stone carving family in town and we probably wouldn’t even have known he existed except he carved a beautiful stone for his brother, which he identified as such before signing. He signed two stones in all but likely did a lot more – especially considering how intricate and well-practiced his carvings on those two stones seem to be.
It was a deeply humbling experience to wander God’s Little Acre and come face to face with the bleak reality of slavery in the colonies. The stones were hard to read – “Beloved and trusted by his master” was probably the most cringe worthy phrase I found. And the stories were heartbreaking – stories of black children whose parents were tricked into sending them to America “for and education” and “a better life” but instead ended up here. Buried in a slave cemetery. It’s an ugly mark on our history but we do each of these people a grave injustice by looking away and forgetting their great contributions.
We moved on from here and just wandered about until we found ourselves at a different entrance. And it was there we realized there was a sign up offering a free cell phone guided tour if you could scan the code on the sign. We went for it. But I was getting low on battery and it took a ridiculous amount of steps to set up. The next part of our day was spent fast walking through the stones trying to identify which ones were important according to the tour map which was…. grossly inaccurate. It started off being a few stones away from what they were talking about but by the end it was A LONG WAY AWAY. But we’ll get to that.
There are a lot of notable people buried out here. Among them are a ton of congressmen, mayors, and governors, over 70 Revolutionary war soldiers, a whole section dedicated to Civil War casualties, veterans from every US war, at least 4 famous architects, Charles Bird King (a portrait artist known for painting Native Americans) William Ellery who signed the Declaration of Independence, August Belmont Jr who developed the IRT subway in NYC and the Cape Cod Canal, most of the stone carvers who were responsible for the slate stones, and Ida Lewis “the bravest woman in America” who manned the Lime Rock Light Station for 46 years after the official lighthouse keeper (her father and then mother) died. During this time she rescued at least 36 people from drowning with her first rescue at the age of 12 and her last at 63! Keep in mind lighthouse keepers were NOT obligated to save drowning shipwreck victims for one very good reason – generally shipwrecks were caused by bad weather, bad weather that could easily capsize a tiny rowboat. It was better to guard the light than risk death. But Ida did not feel this way and was known to “row better than any man.” She lived on her own in this badass life until her death of a stroke. Really a remarkable heroine.
And it was Ida Lewis’ stone we couldn’t find at the end of the tour so I will give you some hints. It’s in the same row of stones that face the road near one of the exits. You cannot miss it as it has a HUGE anchor on it.
And I must say that also geeked out hardcore knowing that a number of the stone carvers were buried here as well and a lot of the stones could be attributed to either various members of the Stevens family (which were the first gravestone carvers in Newport and maintained the business for six generations) one of their slaves Pompe Stevens, or John Bull who married a Stevens daughter and then led this INSANE drama filled life that started when his brother pissed away the family inheritance and he had to sell himself into indentured servitude. It gets worse. He was sold to his brother-in-law William Stevens. The two HATED each other because William did not buy his brother-in-law as an act of charity – he expected work from him! And for a while Bull did in fact work as an indentured servant at the stone carving business but this didn’t last terribly long before he got fed up with the situation and basically ran away taking a job at sea where he stayed on ship for years. When he returned William sued him saying he was in breach of contract and still was obligated to work for free for a few years. The courts favored with Bull and in retribution he started his own gravestone carving business right across the street in what seems to be a purely spite based decision. Bull was the most artistic and rebellious of the city’s stone carvers and his work seems glaringly obvious with their side facing facial portraits and he is responsible for a famous stone – that of Charles Bardin – which is known for its intensely blasphemous imagery – that of Moses (or God?) parting the Red Sea. VERY UNUSUAL FOR THE PERIOD. It’s one of a kind and why it was made is still very unclear.
Meanwhile the Stevens family (who began as masons) didn’t escape the colonial era unphased as one of the original brothers, Philip, was noted cryptically in one of the legers as being murdered. Nothing further is stated. A second brother James died at sea.
By this point I was super sunburnt, overheating pretty bad, and tired from the jog so I regret to admit I did not cross the street to check out the colonial Jewish cemetery but I will likely return at some point. Until then I hope this has been an enjoyable read! Happy travels all!
*If you’re just here for pretty pictures feel free to scroll to the gallery at the bottom, I took a lot!
You know we haven’t done all that much in Connecticut… so on this particular day that’s where we decided to poke around. Only thing is I don’t know squat about Connecticut so I had to conspire with Google. I asked for a town map because I didn’t want to drive much more than an hour. It’d already been a super packed week. On the border of Connecticut I saw Killingly and decided that sounded like a interesting town name and I asked what was there… Cat Hollow State Park was the answer. Even better it was supposed to be a park with the ruins of two old cotton mills in it.
I didn’t really know what to expect. Probably something swank, this is Connecticut after all. And the park was newly established – only running since 2003. What does a baby park look like? Wellllll….
Driving into town it was indeed a posh area filled with great big mansions behind thick brick walls and iron gates. And all the street names had hideously adorably animal names like Doghouse, Cockcrow, Cat Hollow, and my favorite Peeptoad. Did we fall into a fairy book? No, we most certainly did not, because when we drove up to the park it looked thoroughly abandoned. It was a gate across a road with one car parked in front of it, a big trail map bulletin board with NOTHING on it and I mean nothing, not so much as a scrap of paper or hint it ever said anything on it. There was a bench just beyond but it was looking at nothing except the blocked off road. What just happened?! How did we end up here??
Although not impressed by the state of this place we still decided to get out and look around. And in good spirit I decided to place one of my books on the bench to be found by some passerby as part of my book bombing campaign. Who knows, maybe someone will find it and love it.
We were a bit confused at what we saw from there. Beyond the gate it looked like a very new paved road big enough for cars but obviously not driven on by cars. Infact even though the road looked almost brand new it also looked like it’d been left over from some apocalyptic society collapse. It was odd. Not far up the path we found another bench, this one had its leg chained to a pole with no less than three locks but the pole was only 2 feet off the ground which means the chain loop could have easily been lifted over it if someone was insistent on bringing home this bench. Even funnier still the chained loop wasn’t even a loop. Upon further inspection it was just a chain placed on the ground to look like it looped around something. Very odd!
Then we started seeing the weird graffiti. Every big rock seemed to have the same image on it – that of a neon pink spraypainted figure with big X’s for eyes and a crazy hairdo that made it look either like Mom from Futurama or Nosferatu. If there’s anything I have learned in the past few years it’s that teenagers love abandoned places and things. Wherever you can find ruins in the woods you will also find great evidence of teenagers. The two for whatever reason are inseparable and these odd tags throughout the park only further proved this observation.
It wasn’t far in that we came by a fence – the most woeful fence I have ever seen in my life. Behind it there was some sort of wrought iron equipment sat on the river, maybe the remains of a water turbine or something similar. The fence did nothing to keep me away from it as just around the edge of the fence was a path where people were clearly going around to see it anyway. And beyond that there was a rough path into the wilderness which I honestly couldn’t tell if it was made by humans or deer but I figured what the hell might as well “bushwhack” our way through this as one internet guide suggested we might have to do in this park. And it wasn’t too far away that we found the first substantial set of ruins over this river.
This trail seemed to have ended at these ruins so after poking around we headed back up towards the road and continued on foot from there. Apparently, this road extended for half a mile. We wouldn’t get that far though before we found more trails jutting off the sides. We decided to take another one right around the edges of a fence that seemed to have a different set of ruins behind them. This one brought us into the woods to a very serene little spot where the river had more or less dried up so we could wander over it at will.
It was then we realized all the rocks at the bottom of this riverbed were blackened which seemed very weird. Was this some sort of pollution form the 1800’s? Probably not, after coming home I learned these mills all burned down, one as recently as 2001. You could see the charred line on some of the larger rocks a little downstream.
We walked along the river’s edge for quite a while until we came to the biggest feature of the park – a giant stone wall over the river that on a normal day is a beautiful waterfall. They must be suffering drought this year as there wasn’t so much as a trickle. There was however a young man meditating on a rock underneath it, weary of our presence. We wandered on.
I think we ended up doing the trails ass backwards because this is when we found the “picnic area” and the sign denoting the beginning of the trail being choked out by vines. This seemed fitting for this part. Here we also found more graffiti (with one rock literally looking like a kindergartner painted on it) and of course another trail that led under some bridges and out into a field on Main Street. It was cool under the bridges, and we loitered for a while digging the graffiti salamander looking down at us.
After returning from that dead end we found what looked like another trail on the high ground making jokes about bigfoot and starting to sweat from the oppressive heat and humidity. We took a few breaks and just mucked about before finding our way back from where we came. I’m told there’s a mile and a half of trails out there but every map shows something different and when we were on the ground there wasn’t any markers or guides or even any way to note when a trail had started soooo…. it was a fun place to wander but uh, poorly organized on the park’s side. That being said seeing the ruins were very cool and we both enjoyed just chilling out there in nature.
When we finally managed to find our way back to the car it was only then we found the signs saying what we could find here in the park and where to go. They were… in rough shape. Could have been used as the set of a post-apocalyptic horror movie. But hey, I guess it’s an E for Effort?
Sadly no one took my book in the two hours we spent puttering about.
The other day I passed the Fish Hatchery Lands and made a note to come back some morning when it wasn’t 90F [32C]. And today was that day. Granted I had a hard time re-finding it because I thought it was near the Fish Hatchery. It’s not. It’s across from 554 North River Road. Now that I have made that easy for you here’s what it was like:
It had initially caught my attention because the parking lot is HUGE and there was a bulletin board at the end of it that looked like the same thing you’d see on a hiking trail as well as a sign across the road that denoted a hiking trail although oddly there was no name other than Fish Hatchery Lands. I parked next to a huge pile of garbage that was nestled under a sign reading, “no dumping.” Clearly this place was forgotten enough to be used as a trash pile but not forgotten enough to be abandoned. Or as I like to see it – a possible hidden gem.
The billboard had a plaque stating this place was set up in 1992 and honestly it looked like everything had been left just as it was then. A trail map hung lethargically; its trails having been completely bleached out by the sun. I didn’t know what we were walking into…
Once you get past the bulletin board there’s a big field to either side and what looks like a path big enough for cars to go down so we started walking. We ended up passing two little brown outbuildings as we made our way into the woods. Here we were greeted rather strangely by a little basket full of rocks sitting on a concrete column. We were inspecting this when an angry crow flew up to a nearby tree and screamed at the top of it’s lungs. It also had a very large snake (or something snake-like) it it’s beak. Now I know what you’re thinking – this is the beginning of a horror movie and we should have left before the serial killer got to us – but I was not about to be scared off by an irate bird. No siree.
Here it looked like there were three paths – one to the right, one to the left, and one straight ahead, although all of them looked ROUGH. They weren’t marked and were badly overgrown and we weren’t even sure if they were human paths or game trails. I decided to go right and see what was out there. The path was rocky but not in the way trails around here usually are. The rocks were all smooth and seemed out of place. The drought this year must be hitting hard because not only did it dry up nearby Purgatory Falls it also left this riverbed dry. That’s right, we weren’t even on a path at all but a dry riverbed which explained the concrete columns. They must have made a makeshift bridge to get over what used to be water.
I took a few snaps and we returned to the columns and readjusted our travel plans to go straight. This path was almost not a path at all. We even had to climb over a dead tree and then maybe 250 feet in we reached a dead end at the riverbank. I imagine when the river is high this was probably a sweet fishing spot or maybe swimming hole (depending on current of course!) But as it was now it was just a nice view to reflect for a moment before going back.
From here we noticed another woman with her dog was going behind the little building. Was there a path there? Did she know something we didn’t? We decided to check it out. Sadly, this seemed to greatly annoy her because the dog went ape-shit and wanted nothing to do with the walk anymore, just wanted to see us as we trailed quietly behind. Out here there was indeed tiny loop trail, maybe a quarter of a mile if that that wound close to the river and gave one lovely scenic view before looping back. Still, that was… not much…. certainly not enough for that huge parking lot.
To add more mystery when we left we met a nice young couple pushing a baby in a pram heading towards the “trails.” Where were they going?? Nothing we just explored was pram friendly. If anything the vast overgrowth of plants was probably a great way to roll your baby in ticks like nuts on a soft serve ice cream cone. (OK OK, I should be fair, although this place was GROSSLY overgrown I did not pick up any ticks but boy did it look like there should have been a swarm of them!)
As we found our way to the parking lot we noticed there were suddenly 5 other cars here. WHERE WERE THE PEOPLE?! I have no answers. I think this place may have been on the outer edges of the Twilight Zone (I mean there was a cornfield right there…)
I am a relentless insomniac so when I woke up at 5 in the morning for no reason whatsoever I decided to make the best of it and see if I could find a trail. The early morning was eerie as there was almost no traffic and miles of dragon’s breath both hugging the top of Mount Monadnock and tickling the surface of every lake and pond I passed. It would be a PERFECT time to go do a pond hike! And maybe find some more little free libraries to gift a signed book. It sounded good… I had even found a trail online before I left the house. The Heron Pond Trail. This trip was organized. Too organized.
As it turns out there wasn’t a damn thing on Heron Pond Road outside of an elementary school nestled in the woods and a lot of bizarre “reptile crossing” signs. This was doubly frustrating since I passed no less than five trail heads on the way there. Five trail heads I no longer remembered where they were. And every time I thought I might be close to one of them a car would come out of nowhere and lodge itself six inches from my bumper. People had NO patience for a doddering Prius today. None at all. I even got honked at for… get this… switching my blinker on and turning. I know, the audacity! I was only turning to get that damn pickup truck off my ass. It’s always pickup trucks.
Anyway, as I was pissing off every driver on the road by merely existing, I stumbled onto Purgatory Falls! It had clear sign, some available parking, and it was on my bucket list from a few years ago after I had checked out the other side at Lower Purgatory Falls. Serendipity strikes again! This made up for the three cemeteries I passed without checking out. That was painful.
The parking lot was oddly shaped and had enough room on this day for 5 cars. More could have probably fit if the original pickup truck didn’t park like a total asscracker. And this must have been a popular place because up and down the road outside the parking lot there was a lot of no parking signs. I toddled out, took a photo of their sign and headed in. Also if you see the border collie listed on the missing poster please call those poor people. They PLASTERED the entire area with these notices. Clearly this is a much loved and very missing dog.
Speaking of dogs… As I headed up the trail an old couple were coming out with their bear of a dog that they were keeping on a super short leash which I took to mean I should keep a good distance. I tried. But there isn’t much path. Luckily, he was only holding the dog back because he was wet and not because he wanted to potentially eat me. After stating as much I laughed, approached, and gave him a good scratch. I think it was a Burmese Mountain Dog. Huge, fluffy, probably very huggable when not wet.
Anyway…. that distraction aside I kept walking. Just like in Lower Purgatory Falls this path was… confusing. It was well maintained and cleared but not marked and seemed to have a complete rat’s nest of little tributary trails jutting off it. All seemed to lead to the same place, so I tried not to think too much about it. I can say I was absolutely delighted to find the same graffiti here that there was at Lower Purgatory – that of a spray-painted rock with cat ears reading PURRgatory. I mean if you’re going to paint graffiti you should always make sure it’s 1) adorable and 2) punderful.
I wasn’t out there terribly long when I came to a great chasm where I am guessing the falls usually are – the only thing is we’re currently suffering a drought and the water was the lowest I’ve ever seen, only a tiny trickle of a gully below. Even so I had walked far enough into the woods not to hear traffic anymore and it was still beautiful. I walked on until I found a little branched off mini trail along the water’s edge. There I found a huge gear of some sort clearly from another era just chilling in what should have been the river. Because it was so dry I was able to climb over the river to see it as well as the stone ruins that surrounded it. Twitter tells me it was part of a water turbine and probably produced power at some point. This makes sense for the area – it may have even been part of a mill. Who knows. I sat there on a fallen tree playing with this artifact and enjoying the woods for quite some time. It felt nourishing but I had other things to do so I continued on. I walked until I could smell the distinct odor of cow poo and see an electric fence. This is where the trail ended for me. I *think* the trail was supposed to hook up with the trail through Lower Purgatory but if this is the case I got off the beaten path somehow. Oh well, it was still a decent enough distraction and I left feeling content. By the time I left at 9:30 or so in the morning the parking lot was so full I was barely able to get out – in fact I had to back out into the road blind. Always love doing that. In a Prius. On a busy 50MPH road. Keeps the blood going that’s for sure!
Anyway, it was a nice little walk. It was easy, short, had some great views, and is apparently very amicable to dogs. Although I imagine it’s probably much prettier when there are actual falls here… I don’t know, maybe save that for another day!
Fort Knox is never disappointing. It’s a HUGE complex with something for everyone. Not to be confused with the other more famous Fort Knox, this one doesn’t have any gold however it is named after the same guy so that’s something. It was built to protect the entrance to the river and was manned for two wars but never saw battle. And so it stands fulfilling a new purpose – scaring the bejesus out of small children generation after generation which is more than I can say for most museums!
And what is it that is so scary about this place? Well… they do say it’s haunted (though I have never seen any evidence of this on my own visits) but more importantly there are huge sections of the fort that are completely dark – no lighting except from slit windows – what feels like miles of corridors in near complete darkness. And there are also rooms and nooks off to the side which don’t see the light from the windows and are like black voids beckoning you in. It’s suggested you take a flashlight but where’s the fun in that?!
I don’t really recall there being that many dark areas on my last visit but I think I might have just missed them thinking there was nothing there. Another fun change was the fact a lot more of it was renovated so now the barracks were fairly well established with wooden floors and sparse furniture. But my favorite bit may have been the cannon kiln at the very beginning which I got right up to and looked directly into. It was basically a kiln to heat up cannon balls so they could be shot at passing ships and start them on fire. Nasty but interesting. I’d seen it before but never really poked at it up close – this would be my companion’s influence as he is far more interested in military history than I typically am and was reading all the plaques.
I had fun taking random snaps in the hopes of maybe catching an odd orb or two. No such luck! It’s still a GREAT place to practice photography if you’re learning about lighting! This is one of those destinations I suggest to everyone is who is going to be in the area. It really is a treasure.
By now the sun had basically come directly into Providence and there was the smell of bacon as people cooked under it. Not really, but it was close. Luckily the gun totem was only supposed to be a short walk down the street from the Edna Nature Lab. And it was! In a park!
Now the gun totem is a concrete pillar filled with over 1,000 reclaimed guns. And I mean I guess that’s one way to use guns that people no longer want or need…
It’s a weird attraction. Not one to specifically go for but if you’re in the area doing other things by all means give it a little looksee.
From here we took a respite in the park under a tree until I could no longer ignore the sizzling noises coming off my arm and we headed directly back into the sun to find the car. This would require not just beyond oppressive heat and humidity but also a rousing jaunt up a steep hill. And as it turns out we walked right by what was supposed to be the last destination of the day – the John Brown House which has been on my bucket list for over a year now. Sadly, we were both probably 15 minutes away from dying of heat exhaustion and my companion did not understand I wanted to go in and kept walking. So this will remain on my list for now… until I return.
And why did I want to go to the John Brown House? Because it’s a super fucked slice of New England history. I remember distinctly being of elementary school age and being taught how to sing “John Brown’s body lied a-moulderin’ in the grave.” And now here I am, an adult, going, “What the fuck was that about?!”
John Brown was a slave trader who realized later in life that what he was doing was deeply ethically wrong and so he became an abolitionist but not in any sane or rational way. Instead he decided he’d arm a bunch of slaves and start a revolt. The only reason this did not happen was because the slaves he approached basically responded to his offer of free guns by saying, “I don’t know you, I never talked to you, this never happened. GOOD BYE.” AS ANY SANE PERSON WOULD.
In addition to this absolutely mental story there is also a root nailed to a coffin board in the John Brown House that was supposed to be the vaguely human shaped root that they pulled out of Roger William’s grave 200 years after his death. But that’s…. another totally bonkers story for another day!
On this particular day we decided to muck about the Bridgewater Triangle which is supposed to be a hot spot for ghosts, UFO’s and even Pukwudgie sightings. Pukwudgies are part of Native American folklore and are said to be small troll like creatures that lead people into the woods never to return. Sadly we didn’t go at night to poke at these phenomena but we did decide to check out a bit of indigenous history in exploring King Philip’s Cave.
King Philip was the name we gave the local chief of the Wampanoag tribe in the days of our early colonization. He was initially in favor of working with the white colonists and establishing trade but things sort of went south when we kept coming over in droves insisting the locals bow down to our rules and religion. And so “King Philip” (Metacomet) started to lead the other indigenous tribes in a war against colonist expansion.
King Philip’s Cave is where he hid during key moments during the war. We thought this might be an interesting thing to see so we prepared for a day of hiking and drove to a quaint little neighborhood on a private road that had a sign up saying, “Residents and guests only.” We decided we were guests and drove in anyway and at the end of a cul-de-sac there was a couple parking spots on the grass a big sign reading King Philip’s Cave completely obscured by another truck parked there.
We headed in and realized this wouldn’t be a day’s hike. The “cave” wasn’t far from the road at all and was just barely obscured by trees. It wasn’t a cave either, rather just a pile of glacial rocks sitting atop each other in such a way that a small tunnel was created through them. You see this sort of thing a lot around these parts and I suspect being at the end of a cul-de-sac this may have been some child’s favorite place to play. It was interesting but entirely underwhelming. There wasn’t even a plaque at the cave itself explaining it (though there was one at the entrance of the trail.) It was all very… half-assed. We’d seen this before looking at other places important in King Philip’s War and other bloody skirmishes with the people who already lived here. It’s almost like we’d like to forget it ever happened…
Luckily we had other plans that day to go see Dighton Rock and the Mayflower Hill Cemetery also in the area so the day wasn’t a complete wash.
From the fairy tale-like Spiderweed Ruins we decided to continue exploring all that is abandoned and went to the Quarry Park ruins in Rocky Hill Connecticut which was only about twenty minutes away. Again, I knew very little going into this – only that a hike was involved.
It turns out the parking was in a little neighborhood and suitable for quite a few vehicles considering. The trailhead was located across the road from the back of the parking lot and unlike a lot of our destinations it was well marked and there was a map on the bulletin board going in. There were several trails, most which intersected, and we chose the best route to see the ruins which were also marked on the map.
Again, we were met with an upward hike, perhaps not as severe as this morning’s but still enough to get me winded! And that’s when we found ourselves at the top of a ridge with an absolutely beautiful overlook of a little pond below. And then thankfully we started to climb down. The whole path was wide, easy to recognize, and at this point pretty flat but we’d find ourselves climbing up again when the path started to be more rugged.
We weren’t even sure what we were on was even a real path but we noticed some ruins while looking down over the ledge. This resulted in further exploration. Because I was wearing shoes that were not at all suited to extreme hiking I took this exceptionally steep path down on my butt like the gracious thing that I am. I am happy I did too because the structure below was pretty cool!
It was almost entirely taken over by trees except for one cavern which opened up to the world. Inside we found what one of my travel companions decided to label “a fuck dungeon.” I kept myself entertained with the graffiti as the boys played CSI: Vice Rocky Hill with a couple possibly glow in the dark condoms on the floor. “Were these two separate instances? With two different couples? Or perhaps the same guy at two different times? Or was it an orgy? Or was it a gay couple? The possibilities are endless!” Me, I’m just happy whatever teenagers who were using this “fuck dungeon” were at least using protection. I call this a win.
We climbed down farther and eventually came out to a much better path where the rest of the ruins were starting with a “stab cabin” FULL of metal junk. Beyond that was the ruins of a train trestle with a few other random structures all COVERED on every side with a dazzling assortment of graffiti. I felt like it was a post apocalyptic wonder, but the others felt this was more the remains of a camp for teen runaways. Either way there was a distinct lack of crude dick doodles and slurs. It appears someone went over the dicks and made them into other things and the slurs were instead weirdly positive LGBT friendly slogans which I thought was sweet. Either way these ruins were more extensive than we had previously expected and the graffiti had us a bit enamored. One had a tag reading 1969 and another was a near perfect profile of Lion-o. We had a great time coming here and I really suggest it for anyone who is OK with a somewhat sketchy descent after quite some hill climbing.
And now for two galleries! The first is the ruins and the second is photos of nature and the trail.
It’s really nice to travel with other people who have no real expectations and are fine with my less than thourough planning methods. On this particular day I had decided to drive a couple hours into Connecticut to check out the ruins in the Spiderweed Preserve – something I had only known about for less than 24 hours and with painfully little information. All I really knew about it was there was some pretty ruins (of which I found two photos) and the trail was “A loop trail that starts with an upward hike.” Oh boy, before even getting there I knew my unfit self might be biting off more than I could chew but I was determined and so were my crew today.
It started out a bit sketchy as the GPS brought me to a construction company’s parking lot in the middle of nowhere and we were unsure if there was a path nearby. We decided, perhaps foolheartedly, to drag my poor Prius up that primitive gravel road and take a look further on. There was a bullitin board and gate not far up the road from the construction company and enough space for maybe three or four cars to park. The only problem was this parking area seems to have been washed out by the rains and there was no way at all i could park the prius there and be able to drag it’s weak ass back out of there. There was also no shoulders on the road and signs further up saying no loitering or parking. Not helpful. I drove to the end of the street which ended with a terrifying hill that was so steep going down it I could not see the road as I traversed it. There I was leaning over the steering wheel trying in vain to see something, anything, and hoping everything would be alright.
The end of the road looked like private property so we turned around and I did my best to park in front of the preserve’s gate as far off the road as I could get. It wasn’t great though and visibility was just as bad as it was on a corner. I just hoped no one ran into me or towed me while we were hiking and we all hopped out to see what was up.
The trail is indeed an upward hike from the start and we were all having a little difficulty. I was lagging behind the worse, huffing and puffing, and cursing myself out for being this out of shape. It continued on like this for a while until we hit the ruins which are maybe a third of the way up it, if that. And they were beautiful! Here was the remains of an old stone home slowly being reclaimed by the forest. We puttered around it in a bit of awe. It was very quiet and peaceful up here. I had fun taking photos and before we left we decided to go a little farther up the trail to see the first overlook and that was just as beautiful!
There was a lot more trail but the precarious position of the car and our own desire to go see other things in the area spurned us to turn around here. And by the sounds there wasn’t much up there but more hills and mediocre outlooks anyway. We were nearby another favorite haunt Gilette Castle, as well as Dinosaur State Park which I have wanted to revisit for some time now, but we ended up opting in favor of seeing a different set of even more impressive ruins twenty minutes away at Quarry State Park in Rocky Hill Connecticut.
