Category: Massachusetts

Plymouth Rock & Pilgrim Memorial Park – Plymouth Massachusetts

We were once again trying to figure out something to do when Plymouth Rock came up as “the most underwhelming school field trip ever.” Would it be less so in adulthood? Or would we find… a rock, an ordinary rock? It was time to find out!

I didn’t really know what I was heading into. My school wasn’t swank enough to cart our little asses to something like this so I’d never been. When we pulled up there was a truly pathetic little parking lot fit for two cars or so (OK, slight exaggeration but not by much!) that was entirely parallel parking. Nooope. Not going to do that. So I turned around and parked at the beach a few feet down the road which did have proper parking thank you very much. We put money in the parking meter and made our merry way into Pilgrim Land.

Obviously, we went to check out the rock first. I’d seen it on TV before but what I hadn’t seen was the absolutely enormous structure built over this sad little rock. The thing was penned in on all sides with iron bars like it was some sort of ferocious beast.

“Is it a dangerous rock?” I asked. “Why is it in a cage?” This is the sort of humor you’re in for if you travel with me. Grade A dad humor. Even though I’m childless and I guess technically female.

An older lady, who must have been a local, actually answered me. Well, this was new.

“See that camera there?”

“Yeah…”

“They put that in a few years ago. Someone came in and spray painted a bunch of things. It was a mess.”

“Oh no…”

“And people keep throwing their kids in there to get the change.” I looked into the pit and at the change in the sand. Was this some sort of lucky dirt fountain? Having no idea what to reply she went on. “I can’t imagine that. I mean look at how they must come out! Through the bars. You know how many 911 calls we get because some kid has tried to cut their nose off trying to go through them? All for what? 20 cents? Hope it was worth it!”

OK, now I really didn’t know what to say. I was just smiling awkwardly and wondering where this was going. Not that I am unfriendly I just have trust issues when it comes to random strangers telling me things… was she a tourist guide? Or just a lonely old lady? You never can tell.

She went on. “So you from around here?”

“No, we’re just visiting…”

“Well, you see that stairway across the street?”

“Yeah…”

“If you want to climb it there’s a crypt up there with the bones of the pilgrims and a really nice place to sit. Plus it’s a great view!”

“Ooooh… thank you…. We will definitely check that out…”

This we did. But before I get to that part I’d like to take a moment and talk about the rock because it is, and was, for all intent and purposes – just a rock. Not only was it just a rock it was a rock that’d been bust in half and glued back together after they attempted to move it to a better spot. Even more despairingly it says all over the place, on every plaque, that we think this is the rock the pilgrims adopted as their mascot but in reality we have no idea where they actually landed. It could have been 5 miles down the beach for all we know and this rock might be – get this- just a rock. And here’s where it gets really funny. Nearby there is a gift store and I swear to God – it sells rocks. Tiny polished rock babies so you too can have a Plymouth Rock. This is capitalism at it’s best.

There is also a replica of the Mayflower floating out there in the bay. We didn’t go on it. I’m a bit sketched out by boats and have kind of decided the only time it’d be worth getting on one would be if someone was kind enough to bring me to a good shipwreck to poke at. New England has to be littered with them. Shame the visibility is probably slim to nil with sharks and whatever cruising through the darkness looking for a snack. Oh well. Maybe someday…

In the meanwhile, we did climb the stairs across the street and found all kinds of historic goodies up there. Just as promised we found a terrific view of the building the rock was in as well as the bay and a big rectangular monument with the bones of some of the original pilgrims. Apparently, they’d been discovered at various points through archeological digs and were carried back to be buried here. Some of the plaques stated these original graves were forgotten because they had wooden markers which decayed but this monument said most of the graves weren’t marked at all because the pilgrims didn’t want the locals to know how many of them died and just how easy it’d be to kill off the remaining. It’s hard to say if this was paranoia or just karma biting them in the ass for treating the indigenous peoples like converts for Christ. It is super telling that one of the first things they built was a fort.

Here too was a statue of a local Chieftan, probably the one they first met. I couldn’t help but feel uneasy in his presence. For one he was wearing a loin cloth. In cold-ass New England. An unhelpful completely historically inaccurate stereotype put up by “the improved Red Men” some years ago probably in an attempt at inclusion. Cringe. To top it all off he looked forlornly across the bay – at a bunch of boats and white tourists. OK, now I’m uncomfortable.

There were plaques everywhere talking about all sorts of things – even the first women who don’t really get mentioned a lot. And then a few weird mentions of things like a bridal tree planted in the 1800’s which… didn’t result in a wedding… and honestly I’m confused why we were still talking about it. Maybe it was to add flair to the rock. Look, now it’s a rock and a tree. We ambled through a nearby park/garden and read even more interesting tidbits before walking up the street to Burial Hill which was by far my favorite part of the day.

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Canal Street Antique Mall – Lawrence MA

“I know where I want to go this week!”
“OK, where?”

“Lawrence Mass!”

“….WHY?!”

OK, so it might not be fair but my numerous run ins with Lawrence Mass haven’t left a particularly good taste in my mouth. My first time there the car stalled out in the middle of the night in front of a gas station where the cashier was happily holed up behind a bullet proof window wall. This was long before Covid so it wasn’t there for germs. The only other people around was a roving band of teenagers who looked pretty fucking rough. During another exciting detour I somehow ended up in a psychiatric waiting room in Lawrence where the people watching were… we’ll just say interesting.

So yeah, I wasn’t exactly hopping at the idea of going to Lawrence on purpose. But you know, every city has its good sides and bad sides, maybe it was time to look at it in a gentler light. Apparently there was an antique mall there. I know, the idea of an antique mall in the same vicinity as the above scenario seems preposterous but there it was… in an old mill building, sprawling for thousands of feet on several floors.

And I must admit it is kinda fun to go into a place that could be either amazing or absolutely awful. Keeps you on your toes, you know. And this place was full of surprises. First of all we kinda had a hard time finding the entrance as old mill buildings are like rat’s nests anyway. When we finally figured it out we entered to find an astonishing amount of random junk, very reminiscent of the junk shops in Maine. And then we turned a corner and found the clowns. Hundreds of them, all locked away in a display case with a few paintings spilling out into the general area. It was unnerving. And I like creepy dolls!

After this though we wound our way deeper into the mess and it started to have a healthy mix of junk store, proper antiques, local country chic crafts, and oodles of totally random things. We could have spent a week there picking. I ended up with a Janis Joplin album for $12 which made me super happy. I’d hoped to get some Christmas shopping done here but as sad as it is my family just aren’t as weird as I am and I found nothing to their tastes.

We did however go outside and across the parking lot where we were promised another floor of antiques. They had a completely different flavor. Up there we found lots of swanky furniture and a bunch of salvage items including a giant room full of doors that set off my sense of whimsy. Which one goes to Narnia and which one has a rabbit hole behind it? NOBODY KNOWS. And to make it all the more magical I found a Superman trap! I mean a phone booth. A real phone booth, complete with a phone, for only $900! Man, did that bring back memories.

All and all though this was worth the trip (even thought the GPS was being a total dick and wound me through Boston for no conceivable reason.) And hey, if you have someone who likes either junk or proper antiques this place was appropriate for gift shopping. I took lots of photos but then I lost the memory card. I guess I must have eaten it because it is goooone. Luckily I took a few cell phone snaps that I was sharing with Twitter as I was walking through so this entry won’t be completely naked.

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Douglas State Forest – Douglas MA

Since my brain hasn’t been working full capacity for A WHILE now I have been allowing other people to pick my travel destinations – which by the way keeps things interesting for sure! I end up places I wouldn’t have even thought of and that’s great! But this time around when the location was mentioned I was far less than enthusiastic about it. You see it was the tri-state marker in Douglas MA, a small town I used to live in, and the only town I can say I never wanted to step foot in again. It’s not the town, which is quaint and idealistic, but the fact I built my dream life there and then had to leave it quite suddenly and under extreme duress. You can’t really blame me for not wanting to re-traumatize myself.

But that got me to thinking that maybe avoiding psychological triggers wasn’t the healthiest way to move forward in life. And why should I? Just because someone else made my life miserable why should I let them continue to have any power over me now? I shouldn’t. Because I have every right in the world to take a peaceful hike through the woods. So I did and I am super happy with my decision because it was awesome!

Into the muck I go!

Hell, if I knew when I lived there that there was a gorgeous HUGE state forest just a mile or two from my house I would have been there every day! Of the off season anyway. I guess it’s $9 per head for Mass residents and $30 a head for out-of-staters to get a day pass there during the on season. Little too rich for my blood but that’s only because I’m poor. Luckily for all of us we went during the off season when it’s free to everyone.

This place was whimsy central. The fall foliage was almost at it’s peak and everything was yellow with bursts of red and I can’t tell you how many mushrooms we found. Hundreds. All different kinds and colors – purple, red, pink, yellow, white, brown, and even some that looked like full sized pancakes on stalks! There were even mushrooms in every stage of life – a great deal of them having melted into gooey black puddles. I was just happy to be out with a party that seemed just as impressed with them as I was. And there was wildlife too. Before we even reached the proper trail I found a little red bellied snake just off the parking lot and there were salamanders and birds galore. And interestingly enough we also found a bunch of old foundations to what I am guessing were houses at one point. They were a delightful surprise. I have tried to look up information about them but no one’s been forthcoming and all I could really figure out was the forest was created in the 1930’s so the foundations had to have predated that.

We were all having a lot of fun but that’s not to say the journey wasn’t without it’s troubles. For one we didn’t have good directions at all and the 5.4 mile loop to the tri-state marker that we were promised was… how shall we say… not as straight forward as it seemed. It took several turns onto different trails and somewhere along the way we must have messed up because when we did find a marker it wasn’t the one we were looking for… it only marked the Massachusetts Rhode Island boundary. But we thought we found it and headed back to the car after many miles of hiking. By this point I decided I didn’t feel like dancing around the flooded parts of the path so I took off my shoes and went straight through the water. This was fine until I went through one puddle that went for quite a stretch and the water came almost up to my knees at points. Of course being a puddle and not clear water I couldn’t see where my feet were going and it was a rocky bottom making navigation challenging. Still, even though I was painfully slow, I didn’t regret my decision at all. That ice cold water cooled me down and indulged my inner child who found the splashing hilariously fun. By this time our party of four had whittled down to a party of three and I was struggling to keep up as my energy was going down to 3%. I’d pay for this dearly in the days afterwards but I still think it was worth it. My hiking companions were also not unfazed as the mosquitos were so thick on this day they nearly sucked us all dry. Little bizarre for mid October but OK! I don’t think my camera appreciated the trek very much unbeknownst to me it was throwing a fit the whole time and all my photos came out blurry. I apologize they are not as crisp and professional as other entries.

All and all this place was beautiful and I would happily return – maybe even finding the right marker this time! I highly suggest it to anyone who loves hiking, swimming, boating, or even horseback riding (as there was much evidence other horses had been through here.)

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Dinosaur Footprints – Holyoke MA

During our last visit to the Eyrie House Ruins we noticed a sign aside the road promising dinosaur footprints. We didn’t have the energy to check it out then but this time we did! And of course with four people this time half the group was less than thrilled at the idea of more hiking. However the sign said it was maybe 300 feet to the destination at hand… which is nothing. So off we went!

And we ended up in this weird little rock outcropping with a mural of dinosaurs on it. We were still missing the point until one of us yelled, “Oh my God, there really are dinosaurs!” And looking down there were in fact a series of tracks from several different kinds of dinosaurs. They were eroded from being in the elements but still visible if you knew what you were looking for. Is it worth going out just for this? Maybe not, but it is totally worth a detour if you’re in the area anyway…

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Eyrie House Ruins & Goat’s Peak Tower – Holyoke MA

This week I returned to the Eyrie House ruins.. and I know you’re saying, “Returned? When did you go the first time?” I went early in the summer months and it was such a bad trip I decided not to write a blog entry and deter anyone from going up there. Suffice to say my super unfit ass had a HARD time getting up there and overheated so badly that I ended up horking up my lunch in the woods. From there I met a sweet old hippie woman on a break coming down that I spent an hour talking to and then we got locked in the park… because we reached the gate five minutes past closing… And in all that time I took almost no photos because I was too concentrated on not dying.

I promised we could return when I was in better shape and to be honest I was a little iffy when it came up again. Not that it wasn’t nice… just… you know, when things go that badly the first time it doesn’t really give you much motive to want to try again. However, this time we were bringing two friends with us – one with a fucked up leg and another who by their own admission had let the quarantine weight we’ve all gained go a little too far. Now that there was the possibility of not being the weakest on the team (for the first time ever!) I was feeling hopeful.

So we got there earlier this time, lunches already in hand, and met the hill.

“This is the hill? This is nothing. It’s maybe a 30 degree incline.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said… but IT KEEPS GOING.” [and going and going.] The sign at the beginning claims it’s a little more than a mile. The Internet on the other hand says it’s a 2.4 mile trail.

Sure enough that little hill didn’t stop. And despite being the middle of goddamn fall the temperature was SEVENTY-FOUR degrees out. But at least it wasn’t muggy like the first time! Still, our guests needed a break. A few breaks really. Until we hit a little turn off trail called the Goat’s Peak trail. It led to a nearby viewing tower.

Of course my usual travel companion wanted to take this detour and see what was there. Claiming the usual, “It has to be just right there… how far could it be?!”

Not surprisingly to me it wasn’t just right there and it was a mini hike all on it’s own. The Internet agrees it was a mile and a half added to our trek. In any event only three of us made it to the tower and of those three I was the only one to make it all the way up. Fatigue and vertigo had taken out the others.

I’m not going to say it wasn’t scary climbing up there – because it really was. The steps and platforms were all see-through grates which gave the uneasy feeling you were climbing into the air. And it was four sets of stairs before the top. I took my time and got there. And I must say the view was GORGEOUS. I could see for miles and miles. There were houses and churches, a water tower, a ski slope, some farm land and just as I was fucking around trying to make a panoramic photo with my cell phone a turkey vulture flew right by me at eye level only a few feet away. It was HUUUUGE. Like watching a pterodactyl in it’s natural habitat. But of course by the time I got my real camera untangled it was far away again. Shame, would have been an awesome photo! Instead I took a photo of a helicopter in the distance and one snap straight down to show how high up I was.

When I was ready to come down I was a little unsure how I was going to manage. I think the reality of being so high up was just starting to hit me and I was unsure how to go about this – do I go down backwards like a ladder? Or forwards clinging onto both rails for dear life and hitting each step with both feet like a toddler learning to walk? I chose the latter. And I was OK… until I hit the ground and got full on jelly legs and was barely able to stand.

“Uhhh…. I need to sit for a minute!!” My hands were shaking a bit from the adrenaline. Oh, how I missed these little random adrenaline bursts I get while travelling. When I could reliably put my legs under me again we continued on, gathering the whole crew back again and taking a few more breaks… the most amusing of which was when an 84 year old man and his dog jogged by us without so much as a drop of sweat on his brow.

Finally we made it to the old parking lot where cars used to be allowed. It was now a scenic overlook. And from there… the test really began because it wasn’t far to the ruins but it was at a much steeper incline. Even I had to bulldog this portion of the hike and I was doing really well until now!

But there at the top there is indeed the ruins of a swank hotel that burned down in 1908 after a botched horse cremation. And it’s beautiful! And it has quite a view looking out as well. We all gathered, ate our lunches, and I ran around taking photos – most of which came out super washed out because I had not intended it to be quite so glaringly sunny on that day and my camera didn’t take well to this. It’s a shame too because some of the nature shots were so pretty I was going to put them on my RedBubble shop but alas, they’re all blurry!! Foiled again!

On our way down I also found the world’s tiniest Eastern Garter Snake hatchling and picked it up. I was told this little buggar “HAD” to be in this entry so here he is in all his tiny glory. Sadly we didn’t get a photo of him with his tiny gummy mouth open yelling, “I So ScArY!!” but he totally did that too. And it was ADORABLE. I let him loose in some leaf litter of the trail.

If you’re looking for a hike to some nice ruins this is a winner – just make sure you’re in shape first!!

Views from the Trail

Views from Goat’s Peak Tower

Views of the Eyrie House Ruins

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Monster Mini Golf – Seekonk MA

Last week’s adventure was a little different as the entire point of it was to give some kids one last hurrah before the end of summer vacation which these days isn’t really as easy at it sounds… still I agreed to drive as mini golf sounded plenty reasonable to me. And monsters make for a fun theme in any event.

The adventure began when the GPS dumped us at a random busy intersection and all I could see were stores on every side of it. We drove for a while but didn’t see any signs. That’s when fate decided to step in when one of the kids suddenly needed a bandaid. This resulted in us driving into a nearby parking lot that housed a grocery store. The big surprise was finding out the mini golf was indoors, out back of the grocery store with only a few tiny signs letting people in to their existence. I don’t think we would have ever found it if it wasn’t for the bandaid incidence. Especially since I was looking for an outdoor venue. Being from the country I’d never heard of a putt putt golf green being indoors.

This place was interesting for sure. It was super dark and lit by black lights with bizarre neon murals dancing across the walls and all sorts of Halloween-like decorations everywhere. Up front there was a light smattering of arcade games. Not surprisingly there weren’t many people here. We were there quite a while and I think there were only three groups of people playing the course in all that time.

It was a surprisingly big course with lots of room for social distancing- although my ball turned out to be sticky for some unknown reason which made me desperately want my hand sanitizer but I get it. Anything held by children for any amount of time is going to be sticky. That’s one of the laws of nature.

All and all it turned out to be pretty fun. This was in part due to the fact I was almost as bad at it as the kids but to be fair this was only the second time I’ve ever been mini golfing. The kids seemed to be enjoying themselves which is all that mattered.

After we finished the course we let the kids play Spy in a big laser filled box. Weird game but creative and they seemed to like it. It was a sweet little outing and just the right amount of activity for me who was having my ass kicked by a non-Covid related bug at the time. This place was just the right amount of weird and obscure and I’d happily recommend it if you have children to entertain or need an idea for a cutesy date.

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The Charter Street Cemetery – Salem MA

How could we go out for a day of sight seeing without ending up at a cemetery? We can’t, that’s how. Especially when said cemetery is in pristine condition, hosts rows of beautifully engraved slate stones, and is right in the same historic district we were already wandering around. Such is the case for the Charter Street Cemetery which is bordered by memorial stones which have all the names, birth, and death dates of all the Salem witch trial victims who were not buried here – in consecrated ground – but were buried in unmarked graves somewhere. We have long since lost where. It’s an interesting turn of events as it was installed by the town in the early 1990’s and now surrounds the same cemetery which hosts the hanging judge who condemned them all to death as well as a number of other historically pertinent individuals involved with these unfortunate circumstances.

The cemetery has its own gift shop which… I mean, that’s a cemetery after my own heart right there. Who wouldn’t want a T-shirt with the cemetery’s name and a death’s head brandished on the front? This is the place for the morbid at heart. And the cemetery itself is gorgeous! It’s VERY well taken care of and although the stones are from the late 1600’s and early 1700’s they’re in great shape. Almost all of them were legible, above ground, and displaying some delightful art. There wasn’t just death’s heads here but cherubs heads, skull and bones, and random faces.

And the people were hilarious. I was not the only one with an expensive camera sitting on the ground taking close up of the stones I found interesting and all the other taphophiles here seemed very welcoming. This was definitely a different kind of tourist and part of why I love Salem so much.

Meanwhile, as i dithered about, my travel companion was on a quest to find the hanging judge. Luckily there was a little map at the beginning of a cemetery that was easy to follow to find this grave. His stone was encased in granite for some reason, maybe to prevent theft? I don’t know but it was the only stone I could see that looked like this. We held in our boos until we left but really… it’s probably best not to be known as a real life super villain. Just saying.

In any event the cemetery was small but absolutely beautiful and I fell in love with the death’s heads and wish to use them as inspiration for tattoo designs. Would definitely suggest a visit to this cemetery to anyone in the area who may appreciate these things.

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The Pirate Museum – Salem MA

After leaving the House of Seven Gables we were on our way to one attraction I never made it to during any of my previous visits – the Pirate Museum! And it was everything I expected and could have ever hoped for… the outside of the building was adorned with murals of pirates climbing ropes to the roof, the entrance was a little gift shop with a literal wooden barrel full of plastic pirate hooks at grabbing level for small children. And to makes it all the more beautiful the tours were guided… by teenagers dressed as pirates… which I can only assume joined the work force after their mom was like, “You LOVE pirates! And the costumes are so cute! Look your friends are already here, it’s the perfect job for you! Go on! Get in there!” Someday twenty years from now they’ll look back at their first job and laugh. Or join therapy.

ANYWAY. Pirates are not something I know a lot about… it seems with all my knowledge of New England I have always been lacking when it comes to coastal history which includes everything from sea monsters, to whaling expeditions, and of course privateers and pirates. What’s the difference? Privateers are given free license to loot enemy ships by the government during times of war. Pirates on the other hand are usually the same people before and after the war being hunted down like dogs by the same government which was turning a blind eye before. I find the distinction… petty. But it must mean something to someone because it’s the first thing we learn about pirates every time.

The pirate museum allows flash photography – none of which I took because it was super dark and that would have not given the right idea of what it was actually like. In the shadows were wax figurines leering at the people walking by. Each dressed as a different pirate in a different situation. We were told about each in a long monotone speech given by our guide who spoke so rapidly I am not sure he remembered to breathe. But that’s OK. I can understand given the circumstance.

I was surprised to learn that the last pirate executed in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts was a woman. Who knew?! And I can’t say I wasn’t at least a little disturbed when our tour guide uttered, “And this guy over here was a total psychopath. He liked to tie his enemies hands together and light them on fire. He liked watching the skin melt off their bones.” EWE. That was a little more torture that I was really ready for…. especially from a place that looked like it might burst out into a Happy Birthday song at any minute.

The rest of the rooms showed scenes of pirates on ships, in caves, drinking rum and staging mutinies, all surrounded by many many pirate flags. Apparently there were hundreds. And what can we expect from such a rebellious group? WE’LL DESIGN OUR OWN FLAG THANK YOU VERY MUCH!

I had a lot of fun here. Way more than I thought I would. If you come to Salem for the witches you totally have to also give some love to the pirates…

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The House of Seven Gables – Salem MA

It was two in the morning the night before when we both were lamenting that we hadn’t planned anything for the next day – our weekly excursion. I said we could always wing something before my companion said he really wanted to go to Salem to see the House of Seven Gables. I have been to Salem many times, usually during the Halloween season, and I absolutely love walking around the touristy section and enjoying the general vibe. This was a place for misfits of all sorts and I was more than happy to go.

We slept for a few hours, got up and started our fairly miserable journey through Boston and onto Salem. I’ve been to the House of Seven Gables before but I was just knee high to a grasshopper at the time and my travel companion had a very similar experience. We both wanted to see if it’d be any better as an adult.

When I went as a kid the whole tour was based on Nathaniel Hawthorne – who never actually lived there but who had used the house as inspiration for what was at the time a globally popular book. I was a voracious reader as a kid but I never much liked Nathaniel Hawthorne… he struck as someone with an overinflated opinion of his own writing, which let’s face it – was the soap opera of the day. I could have probably forgiven this if it weren’t for a few other annoying personality traits – a penchant for whining and misogyny among them. All I remembered from this tour was the weird super tight staircase which I’ll get to in a moment.

I must say the young woman who led the tour on this day did a fantastic job telling us about everything – the house’s actual owners through the years, the wait staff which were at times slaves and indentured servants, and we even learned about the architecture and design. But perhaps the thing I was most struck by was this new feminine vibe. We got to learn all about a series of women involved with the house who were absolutely brilliant in eschewing the gender rules of the time including a Ms. Caroline Emmerton who refused marriage so she could inherit her family’s fortune which she then used to restore the House of Seven Gables so she could wield it’s fame to benefit her philanthropic adventures. To this day the house is still host to both citizenship classes and initiation ceremonies. Maybe this is why the word slave on all the historical markers has been changed to ‘enslaved individuals.’

The main part of the house was built in 1668 and it’s the oldest post and beam home still on it’s original foundation in the US today. To my great joy we got to see the ‘bones’ of the house in the attic – which included 2 foot wide timber planks, some sort of long forgotten mortar/insulation, and good old fashioned horse hair plaster. We were told there were wooden planks even wider at the time but anything over two feet was deemed the king’s wood and shipped back to England. Bit mind blowing when you think about it.

Of course the rest of the house showed off the wealth of various eras and how they got to be that way. I was amused by the profound abundance of Chinese and Asian decorating styles – everything from the dishes to the wallpaper! Apparently this was a way to show how worldly and well connected the merchants who lived here were. I had to wonder if genuinely Chinese people were decorating their own houses so garishly at this time or was this a ploy to sell to white people. Secretly, I hope for the latter.

The house was a fun walk through time as each addition shows how life improved from the dingy tiny oven-free kitchen of the 1600’s to the exceptional wealth of the next two hundred years or so. And yes, there was a weird hidden staircase, super thin and windy, put there as a bit of a tip of the hat to Hawthorne’s story which included such a mystery entrance to let a killer get away. It was SUPER tight going up those stairs and just as fun as it was when I was a wee one.

We had a lot of fun and picked up a couple books at the gift store that looked like they might have ideas for additional travels… And so ended our tour and began the rest of our visit to the beautiful seaside village of Salem where we continued our adventures at The Pirate Museum.

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Laura’s Tower Stockbridge MA

September 30th was my birthday so I decided to celebrate by releasing my first fiction novel Achilles in Heels and going on a bit of an adventure to find whatever remains of Alice’s Restaurant. It’s that time of year after all.

It was a two hour drive into the Berkshires at the height of the fall foliage season and I must admit just the colors alone made me super happy to be on this journey. My intention was to find the restaurant and church mentioned in the song Alice’s Restaurant heard below:

However while I was down there I might as well go for a little hike. My travel companion had found photos of a trail that looked gorgeous and seemed to end in a observation tower that looked out over the mountains from Stockbrdge’s highest point. Perfect.

And so we headed to Laura’s Tower. It was a trail at the end of a sweet little residential street that had a sign reading, “residents only.” After two hours of driving I wasn’t about to listen to it (sorry) and parked the car in the little parking lot at the head of the trail where there were other non-resident vehicles. At the beginning there was a sign describing the trails which neither one of us read until afterwards, much to the chagrin of our bodies…

I’d read reviews of this trail before coming out and one woman claimed to have brought her three year old which had an easy time of it. I’m currently sporting a quarantine bod and am pathetically out of shape but I figured if a three year old could do it I’d be OK.

And so we crossed this adorable little stone bridge and found ourselves on the most whimsical trail I’d ever seen. It was bordered by these windy fences and walked alongside the Housatonic river. Beautiful. Quaint. But we walked the whole loop in a matter of minutes and there was nothing in the shape of an observation tower anywhere to be seen. Hmmmm. I enjoyed this little jaunt but I was feeling a bit unsatisfied. This was indeed a scenic little walk but maybe a bit anticlimactic without the tower. There was a second path branching off this one at the very beginning that went over the train tracks just over the bridge. We decided to poke at it and hope that’s where the tower was.

Now I have to admit the day before we went to Sherri’s Castle again, somehow wound off the trail there, and I ended up in the indignant position of sliding on my butt down a deer path because wet leaves, a steep hill, and Converse sneakers are a terrible mix. I was hoping this wasn’t going to end the same way.

Still, we trekked into the woods, and began up this path which at first was a slow but steady incline. Even so it was becoming straining. About halfway up we stopped and took a rest on a rocky outcropping. We’d neglected to eat lunch before this and we were both hungry, tired, and unsure if we wanted to go on but according to my trail app we were already halfway up. I didn’t know if I could handle that much more hiking but we tried anyway.

This is when the path went from pleasant little incline to an absolutely punishing upward grapple that weaved in every direction like a mountain road with no ending in sight. Two thirds of the way up I thought I was going to die. My legs were not having anymore of this. I gasped and panted in a most unflattering way. I was taking breaks every 250 feet or so. My heart was trying to leap out of my chest. My resolve was dissolving. I seriously considered just accepting I was defeated and going back down but two thirds of the way up is almost there and after driving two hours to get here I was unlikely to come back. I’d always blame myself for being too much of a wuss to make it to the top. My travel companion was fairing a little better than me but not by much and felt the same.

So we took a lot of breaks. By now my legs had gone from sore to outright painful with every step. Sharp stabbing pains. I knew if I could keep going the endorphins would kick in and I’d eventually go numb. So I pushed forward, leaning on trees at every break, watching the people who took the trail at the same time as us make it to the top and then pass us on the way down. Embarrassing. They did claim it wasn’t far though and that it was worth it!

I braced myself on a tree to puke at one point and came very close to losing the precious little water I just swallowed. Puking is my body’s answer to every problem. Luckily it was really just around the corner that time and I made it to the observation tower. Our reward for taking this punishing hike came in the form of a steep terrifying stairway to the sky. Uuuuuuughhhh.

I took a breather as my travel companion braved the stairs. When he got to the top all I heard was, “Shit!”

I frowned and yelled upwards, “What?!” thinking he’d dropped something to the bottom or some other terrible thing was happening.

“It was worth it!” He yelled back.

Oh OK, I’ll take my sorry ass and see what’s up there. I grabbed ahold of the hand rails and slowly made my way up trying not to look anywhere because I’m not great with heights.

And when I got to the top – WOW. Brilliantly colored trees were in all directions. This was a bird’s eye view of Autumn and it was spectacular. I took a few snaps, made a few off handed comments on FaceBook and Twitter, and then we made our way back down which was actually even more terrifying than going up!

Of course the trail back was all going down hill so was way easier and we were back at the beginning just as the forest was going dark for the night. Perfect timing. Now to find that restaurant… only it apparently doesn’t exist anymore, even under a new name, and the church? It was somewhere beyond a closed bridge and my brain was too melted to want to figure that one out so someday I will have to come back…

It was still an awesome birthday. And it can be even better if anyone buys my book Achilles in Heels, wink wink, nod nod. (I’ll stop mentioning it after this, I promise. I am just so excited for it!)

In the meanwhile I’m sorry this entry is lacking in photos. My phone has been throwing temper tantrums about storage space and I accidentally deleted all the photos I took which were not backed up in trash in any way. So all I have are a handful I posted to FaceBook the day of and my travel companion’s snaps. All below.

What’s left of my pictures:

My companion’s photos:

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