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.
When I drove up the parking lot was HUGE and pretty empty. I got out of the car, took a quick snap of their glorious wonky polar bears standing above the park’s sign. Oh, this was the kind of roadside kitsch that I live for. Still, the building was very nice, had a HUGE gift shop filled with all sorts of shiny, sparkly, and fluffy things, and the staff there were super sweet. I paid $20 for a ticket and an extra dollar for a little bag of corn to feed the ducks and deer. Who knew a place like this had ducks and deer!
Sure enough as I walk in there’s a line of little aviaries, each housing 2-3 pheasants, and a deer pasture filled with Fallow Deer. Aside them some ducks swam in some murky water. There was a group of Asian tourists already there playing with the deer so I put my corn in my pocket and headed towards the caves, promising myself I’d stop to dole out my treats before leaving.
That’s when things started to get just a smidge strange. Suddenly I found myself overlooking a spiderweb of wooden pathways and stairs climbing up and down in every direction. It was like a real life M C Escher sketch. Total chaos. I had no idea where to go or why. As it turns out it didn’t matter. The vast web in the middle was just some sort of trap for small children. Eventually if you walked to the other side you’d come across the entrance to the “caves.” Mind you, when I thought of the word cave I thought this would be a cavern underground, maybe with a few slimy stalactites and stalagmites. You know… like most cave tours in the US… Instead “cave” in this instance seemed to be a very loose term to describe the various hollows and holes that formed under a giant pile of granite rubble. Some of them had little metal stair cases to get down into and since I am here I might as well go down to see them! That may not have been the brightest idea. I’m 5′ 8″ and maybe 140 or 150 pounds and had a hell of a time not bumping my head and squeezing through. I noticed all the other people here (maybe 10 or 15 in all) were content to watch me be the only foolish one to try. But dammit, I paid my $20, I was going to see it all!
I read online, “bring a jacket because those caves are cold!” Seeing as caves generally are cold I did wear an over shirt, but between the humid heat above ground and the strange physical positions I was putting myself in, I was soon sweating bullets. I mean just soaking wet. Totally drenched. In seconds. Welp, that didn’t go as planned. I used the over shirt to sop up the excess sweat and moved on.
It didn’t take me long to go through the whole park. There’s a few things there that weren’t open yet – a “maple house” (I’d call it a sugar shack) a rock climbing wall, and some precipice you could “gently repel down.” All and all I think this would have been a great place to go if I were seven or so… I don’t honestly suggest anyone my age or childless should go check it out… although that being said I did have a ton of fun feeding the ducks when I got out of the caves. I really miss owning ducks. They’re such funny little creatures. I moved on from them to feed the deer who were basically rabid for corn. WOW. I got covered in soooo much deer drool. And isn’t that what life is all about? I still had fun!
Between my body not getting the hint it’s go time, and a bunch of issues at home, I have been severely pokey in getting this year’s traveling started, but today I took my first little road trip of the season, and it was goddamn amazing!
I had decided to go to the Flume Gorge in the spring, before the tourist rush and also when all the water from the melting snow is whooshing down the mountains. I asked my mother if she wanted to go and after a bit of convincing she relented. She was sick on Mother’s Day so this was what I had decided to do with her to make up for it. We were slow getting out, getting into the car around 1PM, and then requiring several stops. I typed in the address wrong and after two hours of driving realized I was still forty minutes away. Could we make it in time?? Yes we could! We got there around 4PM, after mother had smuggled a gas station sandwich into the car while I was filling my tank. It was an egg salad sandwich, which you’d think would be a gamble at a gas station… but it was bizarrely great and much needed.
Tickets to the Flume Gorge cost us $16 per adult, unlike most the trails I go on which are in the middle of nowhere and absolutely free. That’s OK, it was well worth it! I guess my mother had been there before, during peak tourist season, and she didn’t remember much of it. This time around, being the spring, we had almost the whole trail to ourselves and it was gorgeous! The water was lively as we walked over numerous bridges to see see different vantage points. There were a few signs along the trail highlighting various features. A good portion of the trail is on a trellis going over the water and in between two rock walls. It makes for a stunning viewpoint, a brisk amount of exercise, and the sound! I can’t tell you how amazing the sound was! As the water rushed by it echoed against the rocks and became louder and louder until you could almost hear nothing else. I felt so alive! And there were a few beautiful waterfalls, one of which sprayed us with a cool and refreshing mist.
I won’t lie, for a first outing this was a bit extreme. It was three hours of driving to get there and much of the trail was steep, either going up hill or up stairs. Still, being as empty as it was we both could take our time and we had a great day. This was one of the most scenic places I have been so far and well worth the visit! The only complaint I have is that my camera hates taking photos in direct sunlight so a good deal of my snaps came out washed out. I still have to learn how to muck with the lighting setting to avoid this in the future. But with that being said I had a fantastic belated Mother’s Day celebration with my #1 mom, who I took a number of adorable photos of but I am fairly certain she’d kill me if I posted them here.
Screw Auger Falls was another one of the waterfalls listed on the
But with that all said and done Screw Auger Falls was an awesome little spot. Besides having two waterfalls within easy walking distance the smaller of the two allowed for a local swimming hole where children splashed about in the shallow water. Adults mostly loitered around the edges because this place was made of natural granite which had been worn very slick and smooth by the erosive nature of water and perhaps by retreating glaciers before that. On top of that algae grew over many bits which made for an intensely slick surface. None-the-less I had been driving all day and it was in the 80’s. Despite my lack of swimwear I decided to roll up my jeans, lop off my trusty Converses, and wade right in! The water was just above where I had rolled up my jeans at the deepest point across the river where I had started. It had taken me a good ten minutes to get this few feet because of the slick nature of the rocks. Children here knew how to navigate this danger as they slid around on their bellies like joyful seals. It was a sight to see! When I managed to get into this somewhat deep spot I bent down and splashed in the water letting it whoosh over my face and arms, essentially bathing in the river with my clothes still on.
The ice cold water felt almost baptismal in a way. I’ve been playing in a lot of rivers these past few months and every time it’s the same – the healing properties of the waters come from the psychological boost you get when you can almost feel all the negativity in your life just washing over your skin and tumbling down stream never to be seen again. At long last I was encouraging my true hippie nature to come out and play. How joyful I have been getting back in touch with the beauty of New England, and cranking up the radio as I go – singing along loudly and badly to Led Zeppelin, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, and all the music I had stopped listening to over the years when I never should have. The raucous screaming guitars and belted out rhythmus soothing my soul. At night I escape into another long forgotten guilty pleasure – beatnik literature, now with far more bite and meaning with my age and life experience. It’s interesting to almost reach back in time and touch another generation with such a powerful wanderlust. In addition to this seeing all these new beautiful places and meeting so many wonderful people had relit something powerful and intense in my heart – such a strong feeling of connection and wonder. In remembering who I am I learned who I need to be.
