Wachusett Dam Clinton MA & Surrounding Area

I apologize for the lateness of this post considering I went here last Thursday! But that led to forty eight hours of being awake which I paid for dearly with three days worth of a migraine… and here I am, back to tell the story without barfing, so it’s all good! And even with that little set back this was a great find that I found by happenstance.

Initially I had gone to a small town I had never heard of – Harvard, to find a cemetery. As with every entry I have written on cemeteries I did not find it. Instead I grabbed a friend living nearby and said, “Let’s drive!” My intent was to pick a series of roads neither one of us were familiar with… and to visit the next cemetery we came across because why not? It was raining, cold, and miserable, but I was overjoyed to find a cemetery near the school that had some old slate stones with a series of unusual designs on them. Generally speaking slate stones are very plain, while they do sometimes have designs, doodles and geometric insignia are more than a bit odd. Clearly this artist was marching to the beat of his own drum.

And then I came across something truly peculiar – a set of two slate stones that looked like they had been put up yesterday. As it turns out they were dated to 1900. This is very weird considering slate stones were used in the 1700’s. And yet here they were, more than 100 years past the time they should have been put up – with the same classic designs on them. Makes me wonder.

From the cemetery we drove down some rural road that went on for miles past farms and woodlands alike. That’s when we came across this crazy house that looked like it was built by Pablo Picasso – doors jutted out at odd angles and windows were piled on top of each other to make a geometric jumble of strange. I literally turned around so I could stop and take this photo of this poor unsuspecting house.

We continued to drive. I had decided at some point we were close enough to Clinton to check out an abandoned train tunnel but this was merely a suggestion. In all honesty I was in it for the drive today – which I desperately needed.

“You’ve got to see the dam!”

“OK, where’s the dam?”

“You can see it from the road, we’re near it.”

“Wait, there’s parking spaces… let’s walk.”

And that’s how I found myself at the Wachussett Dam. There is indeed a tiny parking lot adjoining the road and it belongs to what is now a park. You must climb down A LOT of stairs but it’ll take you to the bottom of the dam where an old gorgeous water works building is, as well as a fountain, and what looks like a nice bike path for a less rainy day. I was having a ton of fun photographing this place… too much in fact. We were kicked out by a park ranger, sort of… he said we were free to stay if we didn’t mind heaving ourselves over the gate he was closing. I wouldn’t mind. My friend was less than athletic sooo…. we just said thank you and ambled back up those 300 steps. The ranger was a super nice guy though. He told us all about the history of the place. Apparently five towns had to be taken down and resettled so the area could be flooded. This was a water reservoir that fed all of Boston, including the more famous Quabbin water reservoir. I had NO IDEA. Also the water works down below shut down in the 40’s but before that it produced electricity for the town – and pretty much all the equipment to do that was built into the building back in those days which meant it was still there. Maybe during my next visit I will peek in the windows!

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From the Dam we ended up going back on the road and driving randomly until we hit a shop that sold grave stones. Some of their wares were in the parking lot and I found this the perfect opportunity to take a few creepy snaps… in the rain…. in the dusk…. of some gravestones. My only advice, don’t blink!

May 30, 2017 1

Prison Camp Ruins, Rutland State Park- Rutland MA

Today I decided to check out some prison camp ruins rumored to be in Rutland State Park in Massachusetts. The directions said they were on Prison Camp Road, which was easy enough to remember but what they don’t tell you is the park is FULL of primitive dirt roads going in all directions, most of which the GPS does not recognize, and they aren’t labelled either. So this place was somewhat difficult to find but not too bad. It was a lucky day and the road I needed wasn’t gated off due to seasonal flooding as many were. The prison ruins are visible from the road and since you can only drive five miles an hour without breaking an axle it’s hard to miss.

I must say as parks go this place was drop dead gorgeous. I had only intended to check out the ruins but now I want to go back and explore every one of those dirt roads! But back to the prison…. it was built to house minor offenders, probably mostly the town drunks, and it kept them busy growing potatoes and milking cows – a field still exists and is covered in billions of dandelions this time of year. And of course this was also the location of a Tuberculosis ward. The ruins you can see from the road are of four absolutely tiny cells. I couldn’t even take a photo in them to show they were rooms and not just a wall! This place was apparently still very popular as every inch of masonry had been tagged by one sort of graffiti or another and trash was ankle deep where ever I walked. Still… that sort of adds a bit to the allure and I sure had fun snapping photos of this unusual subject matter. Three other structures were within walking distance but be forewarned — bring your bug spray! The dense vegetation tossed up many ticks.

Hikers who knew where they were going seemed to be using the roads to amble down rather than drive – which is a wonderful idea if you have a map! I drove around for a long time and passed several bridges and rivers and a few rock formations that were just to die for. This place seemed to have it all and we were out in the middle of nowhere. For as peaceful at it was there was also a very wild and untamed sense about it – maybe this was because of the occasional bits and pieces of other ruins that dotted the roads here and there – like a staircase to nowhere which was probably someone’s house at some point in history.

All and all I had am amazing day out here and wish to go back with a picnic basket! This was another win on my travels.

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May 16, 2017 0

Madame Sherri’s Castle – Chesterfield NH

UPDATE: As of July 12, 2021 half of the staircase at Madame Sherri’s castle has collapsed and there are no plans to restore it or preserve the remaining steps. The below blog entry was written before these events and we hope you can all still enjoy hiking in the area and looking at the rest of the ruins. For more information on the collapse see here.

Having failed to go to the DMV I decided to try a different DMV…. really as an excuse to see Madame Sherri’s castle. Turns out there was a line at the DMV that could have reached Texas soooo I once again skipped out on my bureaucratic duties to go gallivanting…. all I can say is it was totally worth it!

Just like last time this was not an easy find but I learned the trick. There’s a TINY parking lot (maybe fitting 10 or 15 cars max?) attached to the entrance which is directly across the road from Egypt Road. So find Egypt Road and you’re good as gold.

Madame Sherri’s castle is a ruin out in the middle of the woods that looks like a castle. In actuality it was a mansion built in the 1930’s to host flamboyant parties for an eccentric actress named Madame Sherri. Locals will tell you with a spark f mischief in their eye that the castle may have been a bit more than a place to party… they claim it was a brothel. Now I don’t know too much about that but what I do know is it fell into disrepair and then burned down in the 1960’s. Now all that is left of it is a stunning rock staircase that goes nowhere and other bits and pieces of the walls and foundation. Even better there is a state forest surrounding it and lots of lovely trails to hike all around it. I took Annie’s Loop Trail today. It was… a moderate hike… Lots of hills, roots jutting out of the ground, some flooding, and lots of rocks that needed to be climbed over. With that being said I was passed by no less than four ladies in their golden years, a visibly pregnant woman, and a series of small dogs… so the trail couldn’t have been that bad! One of the women was sure to stop me and randomly tell me I was pretty. This made me smile. You meet the sweetest people on these trails sometime! This was just a reminder – if you can make someone’s day with such a small gesture, do it!

It was a great day, a real hike, lots of gorgeous mountain scenery including all sorts of creeks, gullies, wee damns, and tiny ponds. The ruins were spectacular and made for a wonderful photographic opportunity, and the people who were on the trail were all very happy and enthusiastic individuals. There wasn’t much to love about this place and I am sure I will be back! (Also the graffiti seemed to be oddly humorous throughout. I haven’t noticed this before…)

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Update: I went back to Madame Sherri’s castle to share it with my mother and a friend on 5/23/2017. Took a few more candid snaps.

May 4, 2017 0

Monson Ghost Town & A Random Cemetery- Hollis/Milford NH

Today was a day of blunders… I had to go to the DMV so I decided what the hell let’s go to a weird DMV and make it an excuse to go on a day trip. So I looked up interesting places to go in Milford NH. Came up with a few things but two caught my attention. The first was a cemetery where a woman was buried with what one might consider the longest diatribe ever written onto a stone – a long blathering story chuck full of probably made up drama about how her local church murdered her and such, put up by her apparently equally insane husband. I mean inscribing this thing must have taken a fortune and I don’t even think there’s any relevant information on it (like date of birth and death…)

Sadly, just like the other times I have tried to find an old cemetery I ended up at the wrong one… even worse I could not find a name for the one I did end up strolling through, all I can say is it was on Union Street in Milford. Unlike previous cemeteries this one really looked like it’d been through the wringers. The stones were mostly from the 1800’s but they were almost all marble and in a damp and somewhat shady setting which made them erode and decay far faster than they should have. Here letters wore completely away leaving nothing of a whisper of what had once been. However some were intricately carved and therefore merited me snapping photos… so I took a few.

After this I wandered off to go find what I heard was one of New England’s hidden treasures – the Monson Center, otherwise known as a preserved ghost town dating back to the 1700’s. I had driven through a number of abandoned mining towns in previous years but those were out west and seemingly more recent. I didn’t really know what to expect of this place. All I knew was that it’d be exceedingly difficult to find. So I drove up and down the entirety of Federal Hill Road twice trying to find it and let me tell you, that is a long road! It starts paved, has a long dirt middle, and ends paved. The Monson Center looks like a ditch to anyone driving by. It’s a little after the road turns to pavement and right next to “Adam’s Road” which my GPS did not register (and it looked like a driveway to boot.) There were two random parking lots here in the woods right at the Hollis town line. The entrance was just a bar gate, the sort of thing you see keeping hikers off of pastureland and private properties. I parked not knowing if the parking lot was even public. Nothing was marked.

From here I started on down the trail and before I knew it a couple of signs emerged – a welcome and a map. OK, so I am in the right place but still feeling a bit weird. There was no one else around and the more I walked the more this seemed like a driveway. The forest opened up and there before us was a timeless pastoral scene. Stone walls bordered the drive and beyond them were crisp clean cut pastures, up ahead a tiny 1700’s farmhouse with a car parked next to it. I felt like I had died and gone to heaven. The scenery instantly put me at a deep ease. It felt ancestral. It felt somehow just right. I wanted to live here! It was so quiet and peaceful! Still the house threw me. Is this someone’s property? Did I get lost again?? As it turns out I did not. The house serves as a museum and welcome center of sorts. It holds a number of artifacts and the man who owns the place is all the happier to explain them to you. The house is really small but very typical of a house from that period. I was loving it. The old man there even showed us a picture of a ghost. My young eyes just saw some dude wearing vibrantly colored Western wear reflected in the glass, camera and all, but I didn’t feel the need to kill the dream…

Outside of the house there’s a number of trails that lead you through the woods and back in time. The main path was once a road going straight through the center of this now extinct village. There’s no houses left but a few scraps of foundation lie here and there behind neat little plaques. There was something about these paths that was so dreamy and whimsical. It felt downright magical. I was so happy just to be walking through the trees, past the stone walls I had seen in every other corner of New England. The path led to a rookery and beaver dam, which is a very polite was of saying swamp. Even here I was inexplicably happy. The heron nests were easy to see but the birds must have been off foraging. Atop one of the two beaver lodges a daft Canadian goose sat on some eggs. benches were placed strategically throughout the property and I could have while away The whole day sitting on any of them, even here in the swamp!

This was not a particularly difficult path and it did not have anything terribly unusual about it… but for some reason it immediately became a new favorite place. I have every intention of going back now I know where it is!

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May 1, 2017 1

Birthplace of Johnny Appleseed – Leominster MA

Well, since I was in town anyway, a mere two miles down the road if my GPS tells me right, I decided to swing by the birthplace of Johnny Appleseed. I must say this is the most underwhelming roadside attraction I have ever witnessed. It’s a little ditch, with something that looks like a gravestone marking his birth and right next to that there is a bulletin telling you who he was and a dollhouse replica of the cabin he was born in. All these are under a No Trespassing sign but if you turn a blind eye to that you can walk around the dollhouse and find an immensely underwhelming diorama! Seriously, this is not worth driving to but if you happen to be there anyway….

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April 24, 2017 0

Evanston Wyoming

Evanston was an interesting experience. I had nothing to do that day but had to stay in the area. I had a couple loads of laundry to do so I headed to the nearest Laundromat, which at the time was full with all sorts of people, muttering all sorts of grumpy things in numerous languages. There was a dude with obvious anger issues grunting at one of the machines, a couple of Hispanic women cheerfully folding laundry that obviously wasn’t theirs, and a most interesting family. It contained two teenagers, a tenish year old, and a four year old wearing vibrant red lipstick. The eldest, a boy, reminded me of the apocalyptic children I saw in Joshua tree, same stupid non-haircut and attitude. They were led in by a woman who couldn’t have been more than 35. She was dressed like a teenager herself, smacking gum and talking on her phone like she’d never grown up. She was feeding her kids some sort of junk food she’d just purchased. I thought these kids were her children until the youngest started calling her Nana. The two girls with her were not old enough to have a four year old so I’m guessing this brassy woman popped out her first kid at 14-16 only to have it repay the favor by doing the same and letting her take care of the grandkid. Either way she was doing a miserable job, as both a mother and grandmother. Currently she was doing no less than ten loads of laundry, all personal, which had probably been building up for some time. Even the attendants were asking her if she was doing someone else’s laundry because she was taking up so many machines.

Whenever this very special family failed to keep us entertained we could always look back at the guy with anger issues. He was stomping around the place throwing his laundry around like it had a personal vendetta against him when it fell to the floor. Even when he was waiting he was scowling at the world with an expression so intense one got the sensation he might knock you out if you even so much as batted an eye in his direction. He stormed out of that place like no one’s business.

I waited patiently for the laundry. I was half-asleep and wondering if this horrible place was where I had to wait for two days.

I was about to be pleasantly surprised. I decided to go for a walk down the little strip mall in town. I ended up entering a huge store run by two sweet elderly women, one of which greeted me and told me this place was a boutique, an antique shop, a book store, and a flea market. She also pointed me towards some “unique” jewelry. Oh my were they ever unique! I had never seen real stones used in something so ungodly garish. Then again the boutique had old lady clothes, maybe the jewelry matched.

The antique store was mostly odd bits of furniture and scary dolls, an odd set of hand operated egg-beaters. The flea market just had old crochet things no one would have bought anyway. It was all very… interesting, though I loved the friendly atmosphere. It was the exact opposite of the Laundromat.

Next I went to an adorable little art gallery in a JC Penny’s. It had all sorts of local talent, amazing pieces of wildlife paintings. I admired everything but not being rich had to leave even the coolest pieces there.

After this I somehow wandered into a little Chinese history/koi park. It had a little Chinese gazebo and a plaque stating that the Chinese had been instrumental in building the area, putting down the train tracks that the town settled on, though they seemed strangely absent now. Beyond the gazebo there was a garden and a little koi pond, with two lonely koi and some goldfish. I sat back and watched a little sparrow kvetch at me from the gazebo roof. I wandered from the shade, into the warm sun, and back into the shade before I decided to lie on one of the benches in the gazebo. I was so very tired and my back ached, as I hadn’t slept on anything flat for a month or so now. I lay there until a gardener came out and I decided I didn’t want to accused of being a vagrant and swept off. I walked to the little bridge over the koi pond, until the gardener finally left. He took his sweet time, and I am not sure what he accomplished in wandering around. I decided to go to another fossil and rock shop down the road.

The fossil and rock shop, Antares Fossil & Minerals, was a sight to behold. It had big colorful dinosaurs wandering the tiny yard. I walked past a woman watering the plants at the behemoth creatures’ feet. She soon followed us in. It was a tiny place absolutely stuffed full with pretty rocks and fish fossils. Apparently this place was run by a family who owned their own local quarry and traded fossil fish for other pretty rocks. It was an interesting idea for a business.

The woman I was talking to, Lily, owned the shop next door, The House of Light, something I passed not knowing what it was. She was a free-spirited woman, what I’d call a hippie. Her shop sold crystals, gemstones, metaphysical books, and Reiki treatments, practiced by herself. She led me through the shop trying to explain things. She even showed me her little Reiki room and pointed out some of its elements. I was rather confused by it all but that’s alright, I nodded politely. Reiki is just one of those things I know nothing about, but I have been curious about. She claimed she was a Christian woman by birth, God and Jesus and all, until Reiki showed her there’s so much more to the world. I could respect that.

Before I knew it she told me her whole life story, including her heritage, born to one Indonesian and one Dutch parent. I told her of my own journeys and she in return insisted I take a lucky rock home with me, from a basket of colorful rocks. I picked one that fit my hand perfectly, a nice fidget. I put it in my purse next to my lucky flea-sized trilobite.

To finish my wandering I decided to check out a park called Bear River. They had a paved path alongside the riverbank, paddle boats for rent, and swimming in one of the calm parts. I walked behind a big black standard poodle for a long time before its elderly owner turned around. I didn’t really see any wildlife but it was a nice walk.

I wanted to get dinner after this so I went to the local grocer’s, Smith’s, and ordered an assortment of goo. In their salad section of their deli they had pink goo (Strawberry Cheesecake salad) green goo (pistachio salad) and orange goo (Ambrosia.) I found the texture of goo to be repulsive and stuck to the normal salads. Party pooper.

From here I went to a McDonald’s to update the blog and answer e-mails. I sat there for four hours. I was falling asleep in my seat and not feeling that great by the time I left. This was the longest I’d ever stayed at one McDonald’s in a stretch.

***I apologize for any missing photos and galleries as I continue to work getting Catching Marbles fully migrated to a new host. Please come back soon for restored photos and thank you for your patience!***

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July 26, 2011 0

Graceland, Nashville, & Memphis

I went to Memphis because I’d heard of it and it was in a state I hadn’t yet explored. I had no idea what was there but someone suggested I go see Graceland. OK. So I parked at a little strip mall right next to Graceland and spared myself $10 parking. Oddly enough I was the only one smart enough to figure this one out. I perused the stores… ELVIS ELVIS ELVIS! And nothing but. So much tacky and garish things… I wandered over to Graceland a few yards away. This place was by far the honkiest place I’ve ever been and likely will ever be, at least I damn well hope so. People swarmed the place and paid $34 a person to see Elvis’ mansion and airplane. Seventy year old women with Elvis tatooes teetered in and out of the gift shops clutching bags filled with glitter and shot glasses. I stared at the postcards… Young Elvis, old Elvis, civilian Elvis, military Elvis, thin Elvis, puffy Elvis, Elvis in normal clothes, Elvis giving a young Elton John some fashion hinters, Elvis, Elvis, Elvis!

I can’t say I was ever that fond of Elvis. Why was I here again? Better yet why is the blasphemous Harley shop down the street listening to Cher? I bought a few postcards, if only so I could write indecent things on them…

While I was looking at the postcards I noticed one said “Beale Street, Home of the Blues!” I insisted on going there to even the honkiness out a bit. So I went to Beale Street, which wasn’t terribly far away, and I noticed immediately it beat Graceland hardcore. There was a voodoo/headshop here, BB King’s Blues Club, lots of places to eat, and music notes like the Hollywood stars lining the sidewalk with notable Bluesmen (and a couple of women.) I took a photo of BB King’s note, and was taken inside by a barker who offered to show me Lucille. So I went in.. and looked at one of four replicas of Lucille. He told me Lucille was BB King’s guitar which he auctioned off for charity, but which 4 replicas were made of. It was signed by all sorts of interesting people and the guy told us how Lucille got her name. Apparently BB King had been in a bar fire. He got out of the burning building only to dive back into it to save his guitar. Later he found out the fire started when two men were fighting over a woman. One smashed open a bottle of booze and threw a match to it. The woman’s name was Lucille and if Lucille was good enough to fight over than that was the perfect name for the guitar!

I had a soda and chatted up the bar tender for awhile. Being a hot day with little people in here he seemed happy to talk. He’d done a number of interesting travels in his own day and I compared notes. I gave him a few ideas of where to go next. I left soon after to catch the parking meter. All and all it was a fun street with friendly down to earth people. Much better than Graceland. Less creepy too. A lot less creepy. Especially the voodoo shops. I’ll take those over eighty year women in skin tight leopard spots any day.

After Memphis I went to Nashville… why? Because. I went to find the Grand Ole Opry, again just to say I’ve been there as country music is yet another thing I’m not fond of (for the most part – a little Cash is always good though…) I found out it was currently being swallowed by a shopping mall that was being built and for the most part was gated and fenced off. The rest was blocked by trees. Whatever. I left not too broken hearted.

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July 14, 2011 0

Joliet – Route 66

I decided I should see the beginning of “the mother road,” historic (and now completely renamed) route 66. People in the Chicago area seemed clueless about this and by the time I hit Joliet it was too late for anything to be open except travel centers, gas stations, and a very bleh Wal-Mart. None of these places seemed to have anything. So I stayed in the area… went to the gift shop/museum in the morning. They had what I wanted, finally. I also stopped by the Route 66 park and the ice cream place with the Blues Brothers dancing on their roof. I guess the Blues Brothers was mostly filmed here or something… it was amusing. Even more amusing was the fact that the woman at the gift store said she often got Dutch people coming in there. This makes no sense to me. Why would America’s most nostalgic highway be of any interest to someone living in another country? What an odd concept! Oh well, to each their own. Route 66 is pretty damn cool. Someday I may drive it straight instead of weaving on and off it, backwards…

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July 12, 2011 0

Mesa Verde National Park Colorado

While I was camping I came across a pamphlet to Mesa Verde. I had known there were old cliff dwellings somewhere in the area but I mistakenly thought it was Chaco Canyon and I skipped it the last time I was here because of that little mix-up. I decided to go check it out… it was phenomenal!

Driving in I asked the woman who took my entrance fee if it was a hike to see these things. She said yes but otherwise was of no help with my questions, only saying there was an additional guide fee to these places. I really hadn’t the energy to hike into the middle of nowhere and the idea of paying an additional fee for a guide annoyed and confused me. When I ended up at the visitor center everything was cleared up. Basically there is an auto road, free where you can see a lot from a fair distance. Then there is a cliff dwelling you can go into for free, but it is a short hike down and then back up the cliffs. The rest, the guided tours, were to get into all the other dwellings and have someone teach me about them. Each tour had a group of 50 people and were an additional $3 per site to see.

I went into the Spruce Tree House, the free cliff dwelling. There was lots of people. The structure was still a ruin but a very interesting one, there were windows and different rooms, corn grinding stones, and an underground kiva that you could get to by ladder. There was a line for that and I watched as an impossible amount of people file out of it like a clown car. I waited and went in after they came out, making jokes with the girl aside us. “This is the first time I have waited in line to get into someone’s basement.” It was a round and very dark room, reinforced by a number of logs. There wee little niches here and there but all and all it wasn’t that big of a place. After this group of people went in, probably numbering twenty or more, we all filed back out. It was interesting.

I walked back up the cliff. I was huffing and puffing. Hikes straight up hills and cliffs always get to me. When we got to the top we took some photos. I accidentally got in the way of an Asian couple taking a photo (I hadn’t seen them there.) I backed up, smiling.

I entered the museum after this and I fell in love with their black and white pottery which looked so much like some of my own artwork it was a bit eerie. Here they had all sorts of things on display, a set of dioramas displaying the engineering of the structures. The fact all the Indians were depicted wearing loin cloths made me quite tweaky because if they really dressed that way they’d freeze their asses off in winter! Surely enough the next display was on a bunch of clothes remnants archeologists had found… full clothing, head to toe. SIGH. White people are so racist. It reminded me of my grade school text books where the Native Americans celebrating the first Thanksgiving were also prancing around in loin cloths… as if! As much I am in support of such liberating clothing I’ve been in Massachusetts in November. Suffice to say if you don’t want to get frost bite on your balls you better cover up.

I also got to play “guess what the object is for” with a bunch of little items that still baffle anthropologists. I think I had good guesses… rings, game pieces, etc. It was a neat little museum.

Afterwards I decided to take the auto road, with thunder booming in the background and threatening me with rain. The first stop was an overlook of The Square House. It took all my breath away. It looked so perfect and serene sitting in the middle of a cliff. I pondered how they even got into that crevice to build it in the first place, it seemed to be a sheer surface both above and below it. The other tourists remarked how amazing it was and what a lovely surprise.

The next stop I got to see the evolution of the pueblos. They hadn’t always been on a cliff. Apparently the Anasazi were one of the first cultures out here to settle down and make permanent residences instead of living nomadically. At first they built homes underground. I got to see what was left of them. Some still had pottery in tact and venting systems. It was really neat.

I drove around and looked at these things, all under modern structures to keep them preserved. This was fortunate as by now it was pouring. The rain finally let up at the end of the road when I reached the Sun Temple. I could walk around the outside of it and then there was the most amazing thing of all… an overview of almost all the structures here in the park. There before me in the cliffs, hidden, were whole little villages and homes, scattered everywhere. It was like seeing something completely camouflaged come to life. I took photos and gawked for a very long while. The sheer engineering and beauty of these structures was more than enough to marvel at. I was very happy with the trip here.

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!

July 5, 2011 0

Dinosaur Footprints Arizona

There was a big tacky sign aside the road reading “Dinosaur footprints!” with a depiction of… Godzilla mixed with a critter and dressed up in psychedelic colors? I’m not sure what the artist was trying to say there… but with a sign that confused how could I not stop? I had a suspicion it was a tourist trap where unwary tourists disappear never to be heard from again. At the time this seemed a fair enough risk. It actually wasn’t bad! I was flagged down as I drove in by a guy standing next to a jewelry stand. He proceeded to take us on a tour, showing us all sorts of footprints from allosaur and velociraptor and two others that either weren’t identified or I forgot. Oddly no herbivorous footprints but I did see baby velociraptor footprints bounding along next to their mommy and one set of baby allosaur footprints ambling alongside its mommy. The neatest part was a track showing where a velociraptor was running full speed, jumped, and then slid in the mud before gaining its balance again. It painted the picture of an athletic and perhaps somewhat clumsy creature. I could imagine them playing in the mud a bit like a big cat.

I was also shown a dinosaur ribcage still embedded in the rock as well as a claw and lots and lots of dinosaur poop. I was given a chip of fossilized vegetation, a little coprolite (fossilized poo) and a sliver of petrified wood found here as well as some red rocks the locals use to make jewelry. I think this may have been just because the guy liked me (I showed genuine interest and didn’t bring any screaming destructive children.) At the end of the tour I was happy and gave our tour guide a tip/donation for the journey back into time. It was really rather neat! He also told me where to find some Anasazi petroglyphs that were about to be fenced off from the public due to vandalism. That pisses me right off by the way… vandals who destroy precious pieces of history like petroglyphs from the eleventh century from an extinct tribe! What the hell! Keep your kids on a fucking leash if they’re the type that does this! I’ll end my rant here.

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!

July 1, 2011 0