It seems like every time I go to Maine a good portion of the trip ends up being weird excursions and a search for shoes. This time was no different as the hot glue holding my mother’s hobo shoes together was not working any more and the amount of shit she was getting for wearing them to literal threads was becoming too loud to ignore. Still, our trip was almost over so we decided not to go too far. A trip to Pennywise, the town’s punderfully named thrift store would have to do. She’d end up with three used pairs of shoes for $6 and I… got distracted by flowers growing in the park across the road.
Having at one time briefly lived in Pittsfield I was aware of this little park but I’d never bothered to check it out, figuring it was probably just a small stretch of green space for the nearby apartment building.
I was surprised to see that although very small this park was very well maintained and quite beautiful. It offered a cute little fountain at one end, a bountiful assortment of flowers spread throughout, a sweet view of the river, a memorial stone to the local doctor it was dedicated to, and several benches with which to enjoy the tranquility.
As such this micro park seems quite an enjoyable place to perhaps have a picnic if you’re in town.
I had been told about Moonstone Beach last summer, or perhaps even before that. Rumor was that during the off season it was a decently isolated beach that was perfect for gathering pretty rocks and I am a sucker for pretty rocks. Especially since I have a fish tank and an excuse to bring them home now!
So on this blustery Monday afternoon I headed out into the 39 degree weather forgetting that ocean = wind. I had attempted to come to Moonstone Beach once before but the road leading to it was flooded that day and if there’s one thing I won’t do with the Prius it’s drive into puddles of unknown depth. Today however I lucked out. I drove into their odd parking situation (no parking at the end of the road and only to one side on the rest of it) without taking the Prius swimming.
A pick-up truck drove in at the same time but no one ever got out of the car. I did! And wandered onto the beach. WOW was it coooooold!!! The wind was fierce and nonstop, waves were crashing on the shore and foaming up the beach and there were the promised rocks. Millions of them in all colors shapes and sizes, the vast majority completely smooth from the ocean’s battering. Next time I set up a new fish tank I’m totally bringing a bucket out here and picking a bunch up!
I tried to take a few artsy photos as this beach was made for such a thing but the wind was so cold my fingers were hurting and my face was bright red. The solitude of the beach almost made it seem colder.
The beach appears to be open year round but perhaps I’d suggest visiting it on a warmer day or at least in more layers of clothes if you’re insane enough to go in the dead of winter like I did. I wasn’t there for long but I believe I’ll be back to take more time feeding my need for gorgeous photography and pretty rocks of course. I’d heard whispers of finding the occasional agate or other vaguelly more valuable rock here. There was certainly a bunch of beautifully polished quartz in both white and rose sitting next to speckled smooth lumps of granite. I really don’t know much about geology so I couldn’t say what the rest were but I’m sure some rock hound out there might be able to.
Today there wasn’t any shells so to speak but there was the delightful rumble of the clattering stones as they were washed in and out on the waves. This was the sort of communing with nature I so desperately needed and it filled my soul with the greatest joy.
As I got back into my car and settled in to drive off another young woman drove in. Our eyes met through the car windows and we both gave each other only the biggest of smiles. It was a sweet and wholesome moment to end my trip out here.
All and all I think Moonstone was a wonderful place for a rock hound or introvert to poke at during the off season. I suspect in the summer its probably too peopled for my taste but to each their own!
This entry has to be the most ADHD adventure we have ever taken. It started because we were in search of a public bathroom and google was more than happy to oblige. That’s how we ended up at this lovely little park. I didn’t need a bathroom but I noticed a little pier-kinda structure and I wanted to poke at it. Below it swelled swarms of little fish who breached the surface in a way that made it seem the canal water was boiling. As I stood trying to take photos of this a seagull carefully aimed its latest BM at my companion. It thwacked the deck of where we were standing with a wet slap. MISSED! Seagulls are such fuckers sometimes.
As my other companion came out of the bathroom and found us we all noticed there was a really populous pedestrian and bike path aside the canal. Should we check it out? We’d already had a REALLY full day and it was approaching evening. Hey look! Birds! And so we found ourselves walking down this path with a bunch of other people, all different paces, us getting increasingly distracted by the alarmingly calm wildlife. We first approached a huuuuge swarm of cormorants just gathering atop a bridge. Not far from them there was several storks just fishing, not a care in the world to the people going by, of course sea gulls continued to make their presence known, and then as it was evening the bunnies and groundhogs started showing up…
By now we’d already walked quite a way but there was a bridge not too far away. We should just walk to the bridge, I suggested. The closer we walked to it the farther away it seemed to become! And at some point my body had had enough with my bullshit and I just started overheating like an old steam locked car. Since we had not planned to go for a full hike after a trip to the bathroom no one as carrying water. I contemplated climbing down the banks of the canal and dipping my feet in the water. Eventually we made it somewhat close to the bridge where there was a bench that I promptly melted into.
By now the sun was going down and there was this gorgeous pink hue in the sky highlighting the bridge and reflecting on the water. SO GORGEOUS. I could not have planned this if I tried! And so even though my body was fucking done with me and I was in pain and turning all kinds of funny colors I was still with it enough to be completely and utterly thankful for this absolutely bonkers detour because the photos I was taking were so well worth it, as was the time spent with some of my favorite people.
It was A DAY. A long, weird, whimsical day and this was the perfect way to end it. or at least end the adventuring part as we shuffled back into the car and drove into the great blue yonder. This was a surprise destination for sure but if you’re in the area and aching for a good enjoyable walk (or bike ride) check it out! The scenery was amazing!
Sometimes when you have been out adventuring for as long as I have the inspiration starts to run a little dry and then you just have to ask the universe what it thinks you should do. In this particular case it thinks I should go to the oldest wooden jailhouse in the United States which was said to be open. Sounded good to me so off we went! And there it was in all it’s adorable glory sitting next to an old blacksmith shop and a Naval Museum. But woe! Although the brochure on the door said it was open it was not. So we took a walk down the trail directly behind it – two days in a row – because as you guessed it, it wasn’t open the day after either.
And you know what? The trail was a destination in and of itself! Cute and cozy and near civilization and yet covered in vines and greenery that made it seem like an import of some far away jungle. Before very long we crossed a railroad track which provided a fun opportunity for photos. Beyond that there seemed to be a number of unmarked trails all jutting off of each other. I am honestly not sure where we ended up or why. But when I started overheating we headed our way back, having had our walk in for the day.
It was kind of cute. I would definitely tell someone who lives in the area to go check it out. Maybe you’ll get lucky and the old jailhouse will be open! If only… as for the trail, it was nice, worth travelling very far? maybe not. Although the surrounding area was super interesting and unique so maybe….
It’d been a hell of a few weeks for me and unfortunately, I think my chaos gremlin followed me to Rhode Island on this particular week because my usual travel companion wasn’t having an easy go of it either. We both needed desperately to get out of the house but lacked the energy to actually do so. A compromise was made – to stay in town and go back to a destination we’d already been to before – a destination I remember taking photos of but for some reason cannot find said photos or blog entry?? Shame because I took very few photos this time around thinking I already had plenty!
Prescott Farm is the site of a historic farmstead and gristmill. It has one of very few surviving windmills in here in the US built in the early 1800s and there are several other historic buildings also on the property you can poke at. And “gardens,” lots of “gardens” which appear to be wildly out of control fenced in weeds… which I guess are mostly native and probably were used at some point by locals but I definitely saw some things in there that clearly blew in from somewhere else. A vegetable garden this was not. Although I did find a patch of choke cherry trees along the perimeter. SOMEDAY. Someday I’ll have land and chokecherry trees of my own with which to make jam with.
The location is known for its little duck pond where a gaggle of them wait to be fed. We however were here to check out the hiking trails first so off we went past the old homestead, the historic markers, and the windmill, into the woods! The woods were a well needed respite from the heat. Despite the fact that today was hotter and muggier than a teenage Shrek’s jock strap (sorry) the woods were cool and refreshing! And pretty! We found a bunch of little fairy houses that someone had left at random trees and then I spotted a really fat deer – the first one I’ve seen on island in all my visits here! And just beyond the deer we came across a weird bird sitting at the edge of the water just chilling, giving no mind to us whatsoever. My companion thought it was a hawk because of its coloration and short stubby shape, I thought it was a blue heron because of its beak. Drawing closer to it I realized it wasn’t nearly big enough to be a heron and its beak definitely wasn’t that of a hawk. We were both bewildered by the animal who still didn’t care we were staring at it like leering predators. We’d only later learn its identity by posting photos on FaceBook – it was a night heron. I have never heard of such a thing and am growing increasingly concerned I might be wandering ever closer to becoming a birder, the horror. This goes doubly for my companion who thought he heard an owl. This resulted in us both stalking a mourning dove to the chimney of the farmhouse. To be fair the “mourning” sound of mourning doves does sound a bit owl-like.
The trails were very short and sweet and at times a little messy but it was cute and I was happy to have seen some wildlife. We were however about to approach the famous duckpond. Ooooooph, it was very choked in out in weeds, I don’t think they were native either. However, the ducks still persisted, as did frogs, baby turtles, pond skimmers, diving beetles, and a fantastic orgy of every kind of dragon fly you could think of just finding their love match. It was kind of funny. The ducks showed interest in us only as long as it took to figure out our sorry asses didn’t have any food for them and then they wandered off crankily quaking at each other.
This was a nice little diversion – just the amount of green and activity I needed to get back onto a path of a well-regulated nervous system. So, if you’re in town maybe check it out. It’s rather cute, child friendly, and has a little history. Also, the windmill is nice to take photos of.
It’s been a funny experience going to all these cemeteries around New England. You never know what you are going to get. This cemetery boasted the grave of Eli Whitney the inventor of the cotton gin which is initially what caught my companion’s eye because who would have thought the inventor of the cotton gin would be buried somewhere that is too frickin’ cold to grow cotton. But this was only scratching the surface. The other claim to fame was this was the US’s first cemetery to claim “city of the dead” in its description. All this means is that the streets and paths throughout were given official names making the gravestones almost have little addresses with which to find them. And of course, there was the imposing Egyptian style gates reading, “The dead shall rise” which wasn’t creepy at all. Apparently, it’s a Bible quotation but that’s not nearly as fun as envisioning it having something to do with the secret society rituals performed here by Yale students or one of my favorite urban legends about tunnels being dug under the cemetery connecting the Yale medical school allowing “resurrectionists” to more easily steal and sell corpses to science. That part did happen back in the day but the tunnels, sadly to say, do not go under the cemetery.
The cemetery is surrounded on all sides by whimsically bizarre buildings, including a church directly across the entrance which has gargoyles on it. You have no idea how much this delighted me. I LOVE gargoyles and they are such a rare sight here in the US! These ones looked weirdly political – an eagle in a suit and a donkey in a suit. No elephant though, so there’s that I suppose. After this initial distraction we wandered in only to find this place is another one of those cemeteries that close at 4PM. This has been an ongoing issue for us as we generally have to drive from pretty far away and by the time we get there sometimes the gates are closed. Today we had two hours and counting to amble around.
There was a bulletin board at the entrance that had not one, not two, but four separate maps of interesting graves. One was generalized, one was of Civil War notables, one was of the people involved in the Amistad, and one was of just cradle graves. Obviously, this was too much for one day so we went with the Civil War notables and the cradle graves, promising to be back for the others when we had more time (as those maps had more on them.)
I had no idea what a cradle grave was but apparently this is what they call the memorials that were popular in the late 1800’s that were shaped vaguely like a cradle. The intention of this design was to make it an easy flower bed connected directly to the headstone. I’ve seen these before but being so old none of them still had flowers in them, but this cemetery decided to restore them to their former glory by planting historically accurate native flowers in them, to bloom at different points during the year. As far as I can remember none of these graves were also on the notables list but they did add quite a bit of charm to the place. We found all of them.
We also found the aforementioned Eli Whitney who was hard to miss and a bunch of Civil War dead. They included people who’d died in some of the first battles as well as the more recognized ones like Gettysburg and Fredericksburg and one man who served in New Haven’s first “colored” regimen. Sadly, although this was super old cemetery I wasn’t seeing the oldest colonial sandstone markers. As it turns out all those were moved to the perimeter of the cemetery from an even older cemetery location. The bodies that went with them are still under the common. But their stones still provide witness, and it was eerie and beautiful to see them all lined up against the walls. So many Death’s Heads and other bizarre colonial era carvings. LOVE IT.
We were also surprised to find two sphinxes! Each looking into the distance to the same spot. I realize that the wealthy had an Egyptian fetish from the mid 1800’s into the 1900’s but that doesn’t make it any less awkward to find. They always seem so out of place and these ones didn’t have any name on them and I have not been able to find any information on them which makes them that much creepier. They probably eat souls or some such.
We left when the clock ran out before finding the “random jazz musician” my companion mentioned which turned out to be GLENN MILLER. I didn’t realize that’s who he was talking about until I got home and now we very much have to go back!! Which is all well and good because I still want to see all the Amistad graves too. And maybe take a few more photos since half the ones I took on this day refused to upload.
If you happen to be in New Haven or love cemeteries I absolutely recommend this one. It’s really lovely. And it’s flat. Which is more than I can say of most cemeteries in New England!
I can no longer blame covid lockdowns for my increasing poundage. Time to get off my ass and do some hiking! Mild hiking though because it’s already a bajillion degrees out and I have the knees of an old peasant woman.
This particular hike was inspired by a random person on FaceBook who posted photos of some sort of ruins and said they were in the Arcadia State Management Area but failed to say which trail or how to get there, only cryptically remarking this whole area was once used for quarrying and there is still some evidence of such. What kind of evidence?? They did not specify.
And since I didn’t know this place had multiple trails I was left to ask the internet for an address. The address it gave me was to their headquarters, which we’d very quickly learn was nowhere near any goddamn trails. However we didn’t know this because the map on the bulletin board here made it look like the trails were a quick skip down the street. So we tried. Turns out this was literally the worse map I have ever seen, I think a Kindergartener may have made it. There were no trails just at the bend down the road as it seemed to specify, just residential houses. And since we were in almost direct sunlight on the road I was already overheating but worse my ankle froze up, and then my foot, and then I was limping in great pain and suggesting we go back to the car because my memory of passing the pond trail said it was nowhere near here. And I was right. It was past the bend, a good way down the road, after a left turn and a ways down that stretch, all and all probably 1-2 miles from our starting point! And there were three ill-marked parking lots. I ended up in the one meant for kayaks and small boats! But too aggravated at this point to change that we decided it was probably fine as none of the other cars here had boats or boat hitches either. There was however a bathroom so even though the trail (road?) wasn’t really marked we headed in anyway.
That’s how we ended up accidentally sneaking up on a lady on her cell phone who was sitting at one of three picnic tables. Did we just park at a picnic spot or was there an actual trail here?? It wasn’t clear until we were at the pond’s edge. There was indeed a loop trail going all the way around it but again this was a hunch, there was no bulletin board or map here which is seriously odd considering there were walking bridges and picnic tables.
Into the woods we went following the yellow trail markers. Initially this led to a serious of probable fishing spots, would it go farther? Yes, yes, it did. The trail was well travelled and didn’t seem to have any other trails jutting from it so luckily there was no real issue getting lost. The pond was visible for most of the hike to some degree and was picturesque. There was even a Canadian goose and a cormorant on a rock… which is odd considering they’re ocean birds but whatever. Maybe it got sick of the rest of the flock and decided fresh water was where it’s at.
There was indeed one ruin on the trail, not the one I’d seen photos of. I do not know what it was back in the day but it was fairly impressive. Not far from there was a lovely dam. By this time my feet were swollen and on fire so I ambled to the water’s edge, ripped off my shoes and socks, and dunked them into the sweet cold water. BLISS. I stayed in that spot for a few minutes just cooling down before returning to our adventure, still not knowing if this was a loop trail. Turns out it was. We were maybe 2/3rds of the way around when we were at the dam. All Trails seems to think this loop was one and a half miles and should take 30 minutes to walk around. Admittedly it was easy with very few inclines but 30 minutes?! What are you, jogging?! Slow down! Smell the roses! Or in this case blueberries which were starting to come out already! Nature’s a bit mixed up this year. I also keep seeing fall foliage mixed with spring foliage on the same trees. It’s…. distressing.
In any event this place is probably hopping in the summer. It seemed a nice family friendly kind of place. I would suggest it for anyone looking for a nice easy pond hike. Just beware the maps are absolutely useless. Luckily, it’s a loop trail so that didn’t matter!
I’ve been anxiously awaiting the arrival of the trolls for a long time now- probably since the middle of last winter when there began the murmurings of such creatures coming to our forests. I know, the artist Thomas Dambos, has other trolls in New England – specifically some in Maine I have yet to visit – but if I remember right those were in a botanical garden and required tickets so I never managed to get out there. This was much closer and much cheaper!
I’ve never been to Ninigret and I must say it was an impressive park! There was SO MUCH space for parking and beyond that there were numerous sports fields of all kinds including disc golf?!?! Seriously have never heard of such a thing and was having a real hard time getting my mind around it. There was also a lovely little dog park with two enclosures, I’m guessing one for large dogs and one for small. And on top of all that there were hiking trails through the woods! All this alone was enough to get me going but we came for trolls.
We were not disappointed! Since it’s technically off season no one was really parked in the parking lots, instead there was a string of cars parked aside the road which we took to mean there were trolls there. I managed to parallel park for once and we were on our way. The trolls had only been there a few days at this point and the crowds they were drawing were impressive! We followed said crowd only a few hundred feet until we found the first troll – whose apparently named Erik Rock. People were lining up for selfies. I was shocked to see how big he was! He dwarfs humans! And the very normal size bird house dangling on a necklace around his neck looked TINY.
Erik was beautiful and clearly already well-loved but there was supposed to be two trolls in this park. We were told Erik would give us a clue as to where his lovely wife(?) Greta Granite was but we didn’t really know what that meant. Did the birdhouse mean something? No idea. After playing with him we left and followed the crowd down the path until we hit a road and weren’t quite sure where to go from there. Eventually we’d figure out if we took a left onto the road and wandered down it not too far there was a little path and a little half hazard stick reading “troll” in front of it. So, we crawled into this underbrush and not very far down Greta came into sight. Honestly, I think she delighted me even more than her mate. Her hair was made of local bamboo, she wore lots of jewelry made of seashells, and had the most darling button nose.
People gathered all around her and were taking photos. A woman came by with a baby strapped to her back who babbled, “dada!” when they saw my travel companion. I joked, “Acquiring more children, are you?” “NO, I AM NOT!” You can tell from the lack of contractions in that sentence he was offended but goddamn I found that whole scene hilarious.
But back to the troll – people were being super polite and letting everyone get their chance to check her out. We decided to continue on the trail, which was a short loop, and in doing so found her enormous yet somehow still adorable feet with which she was kneeling on. I was impressed! This was such a lovely sculpture! And it’s made almost completely from reused and recycled materials. Even better these are only the first two of what should eventually be five on The Troll Trail, which will include other parks, all within an easy day’s travel in Rhode Island. I can’t wait. I will absolutely be trying the Troll Trail altogether when they arrive!
Right behind the Bass Pro Shop there was another tiny parking lot attached to a cute little half mile trail. We decided to go see what it was and I must say – for being in Boston, a Metropolitain city, I was impressed! Yes, it was short, but it did amble over a little pond guarded by a 40-pound murder duck, er, swan, and then wound us around a sweet little cranberry bog. They’d only planted it a few weeks ago so these were early days. I’d never been to a cranberry bog in spring so this was fun for me.
I took photos with my camera but summarily lost them so these are all cell phone photos. It’s been that kind of a week for me. But anyway… the trail was short, sweet, and had a bunch of informative plaques around it talking about cranberries, their history and harvest. I actually learned quite a bit reading them!
So yeah, if you happen to have kids as your spouse is wandering the shop looking for something shooty or stabby this is definitely a good way to keep everyone entertained! More shops should have random educational trails behind them.
I had to go in for an MRI and I don’t know, there’s just something about being shoved in a tiny tube and having a jack hammer whip around your head banging, clanking, and beeping at high speeds, that makes you really want to run away into the safety of the trees! So, after I gathered myself and found something to eat (to finally break another ghastly fast) I decided to look up local waterfalls. This one was the highest on the list so I said why not, let’s go,
I was surprised to find the entrance to the trail was situated in a lovely little neighborhood right behind a very busy highway. Since it was raining and very early in the season I was lucky in that the parking lot only had two other cars, the occupant of one was heading in with her dog. I took my time putting on my knee braces so I wouldn’t be stalking just behind her. I must say the new knee braces are AWESOME. My entire life walking and hiking has always put me in pain and lately I hadn’t been taking a lot of hikes because it was taking me up to three days to recover from the soreness. The knee braces were a one-off chance, something I heard EDS patients say helped them (even though my doctors won’t even approach diagnosing me with something that seems so fucking obvious!) This was my first time out in both knee braces and it was weeeird, like I was being propelled by them! And walking was so easy! And not taxing! Is this what normal people feel like?! I was amazed.
But back to the trail. It was decent enough, a little pine forest with a mostly flat trail but being so close to the highway and with the lack of leaves on the trees it was still VERY LOUD. This was not the sort of quiet tree hugging moment of solitude I was looking for. To be frank I was a little put off and I wasn’t the only one. The large German Shepard mix I had witnessed enter these woods with its master was now trying desperately to get out, so much so it nearly bowled me over on the way tot he exit. The owner apologized, “She’s not liking this!”
I continued on until I hit the power lines going directly across the highway. Well.. I could only go away from that noise now I had gotten that close… so onward I went. The path was quite ordinary for a pine forest, nothing of particular note except perhaps the wet moss and lichen on the tree trunks. And then I came up to the waterfall. By then the trail seemed to have split in a hundred different very well-travelled mini paths. I was confused at first but then I went around the corner and found the offshoot to the waterfall with a big sign reading, “Swim at your own risk.” OH! I had found a local swimming hole! But today was not the day for such an activity as the runoff and recent rains of spring had filled the river well past capacity and the waters were raging. I toddled with my knee braces onto the rocks above to take a few photos, concerning whoever lived across the river who probably either thought I was about to topple in or willfully throw myself into the churning waters below. He wandered his yard and kept looking over to see if I was still there. Thanks for the concern but tragic accidents weren’t on my bucket list for today.
I stayed for quite a while just letting the overwhelming sound of the water rushing by completely overtake everything else in my brain. No longer could I hear cars, no longer was I trying to soothe my frazzled nerves, it was all just… river rapids and the sounds coming off them. Ahhhhhhh, that’s what I needed. I felt great after this, so much so I was able to tackle the steep hill from the river back to the path and find my way back to the car from there going back the way I came instead of continuing the loop. This was definitely a different experience. I do think in the summer when the water is calm this place probably is a wonderful hidden gem of a swimming hole and if that’s what you’re looking for I would definitely recommend it!
