Sometimes I get tired of finding new locations or I just lack inspiration. It’s at these times I like to hand the torch over to my travel companions and tell them to pick a place. I’m always happy to drive and the surprise of these adventures ticks off my ever expanding need for novelty.
On this day the choice was to go to Gay City State Park – a location in Connecticut that came up as a FaceBook suggestion to my travel companion. Let’s go!
Gay City State Park was easy enough to get to but they were taking trees down at the entrance when we drove up so we had to wait for them to move it out of the way. From there there was a really large parking lot for a park. This place was sort of huge. We followed several other people who were already out walking their dogs. They all made their way to a shut off road that goes straight into the center of the park. It had a toll booth and all. To the side there was a campground and signs were up for swimming holes, By Scouts, and various other activities. I am glad I didn’t come to this place during the summer season. It looks like it’d be flooded with children escaping the city. In this sense it was a lot like Rangeley, just bigger. What were we here to see again?
“The remnants of a ghost town.”
OK then! We took what looked like the main trail and began to hike into the woods. It was a pretty easy trail, a few mild inclines here and there but nothing too bad. Since it was gray and threatening to rain on this day the bare trees took on a bit of a foreboding appearance. When we came to a fork in the trail we just started walking down random branches of it. I have no idea how my travel companion can find his way back after doing this – I never could. One wrong turn and I’m screwed. We did eventually come across the foundation of an old house aside the trail. Ferns grew out of the walls and gave it a bit of a Secret Garden kind of feeling. Still, we’re a both a bit jaded at this point having seen quite a few ruins, we had to ask was this it? We continued to hike. Luckily it wasn’t raining yet and the temperature was perfect for a brisk walk through the leaf litter.
Eventually we made our way back to the main path which was supposed to have a ruined mill on it and sure enough it wasn’t long before we found it. I’ve seen lots of ruined and abandoned mills but this one was old! Only part of the foundation remained (after the structure burned down on three separate occasions) and it was not messing around. I’m pretty sure it’ll still be there in another 100 years! It made me wonder what it looked like when it was fresh and new and how many people worked here. I took some time wandering around taking somewhat artsy photos. It was worth the trip!
There’s rumors of a few weird terribly New England-y murders happening here back in the day when the town was thriving. Some people pay for permits to camp so they can ghost hunt at night. We did not… for we had other places to go!
We wandered back to the car to explore a second destination. There was supposed to be an abandoned missile silo from the 1950’s hidden just eight miles away. However the GPS just brought up to a random neighborhood and there was no indication there was a trail, an appropriate place to park, or anything else you might think would go with such a destination. We didn’t even bother getting out of the car. Instead we headed to our third and final destination of the day – the Ballard Institute and Museum of Puppetry.
On the way to Holy Land USA we passed a sign reading Gillette Castle which sounded familiar. I decided if we had the time and I noticed the sign on the way back that I was going to check it out, but I didn’t tell my travel companion, instead letting this detour be a spontaneous surprise. Coming home and a mile from the exit I saw the sign again and asked him to look it up to see if it was anything worth it because I couldn’t for the life of me remember what it was.
After a moment he looked down at his phone and yelled, “YEP! Worth it! Take the exit!”
I just smiled. Most people I travel with get a bit flustered with me being so unpredictable. Going to a specified destination is always fun — going to a completely random one on the fly is arguably more fun. Besides when you’ve been kicking around the road for as long as I have you start remembering things you might like to see and like a moth to flame you just end up there at random…
So far my visit to Connecticut showed me a state that more or less just felt like a huge suburban backyard for NYC. Maybe this why even people in New England seem to have an indifferent attitude towards Connecticut… it feels… different. But now I was driving through a little town it was feeling a bit more familiar. Everything here was super well kept and quaint. A little Mayberry if you will. I however was once again back to scaring the shit out of my passenger because we found ourselves in the Prius going up a 90 degree hill which was also a hairpin turn.
“TWENTY-FIVE! The speed limit is TWENTY-FIVE!”
“Yes, but if we dip below 20 this car is going to slide back down the hill and there’s a car behind us!”
“Oh my God!”
We were lucky we went before it snowed. The Prius would have never made it up, going 27 MPH or not.
I followed signs (and my travel companions phone suggestions) to the park, again not knowing what to expect. As we drove in there was a nice little paved road through the park like you’d see in a typical city set up. However, we were both caught completely off guard when we drove up to this profoundly beautiful (but dry) manmade lake/fountain overshadowed by a little hobbit bridge. So quaintly pretty! It was like being in an English countryside!
“Where do we park?”
“Just wait, there will be parking at the end I’m sure…” And indeed I was right. There was parking just behind a huge castle!
We hopped out of the car, knowing we were on a two hour time constraint before the park was closed and gated up. This place was grand! I was not expecting anything quite so massive but here was what looked like a real castle…. overlooking a serene riverside scene. To add to the Gothic flair two turkey vultures circled overhead. I immediately wanted to attend a Gothic wedding here. I didn’t even care whose. Just a big Gothic wedding.. with at least one black-clad bride. Yep. I’d be so happy to attend.
The 24-room, 14,000 square foot castle is apparently furnished and normally open to the public but has been blocked off since the Covid pandemic. We both immediately decided that we would be back to peer inside when this whole thing blows over. In the meanwhile we wandered around the outside taking photos and admiring the dragon gargoyle jutting off the side.
The castle took 5 years to build and was completed in 1919 costing a cool million dollars at the time (that’s over 15.5 million dollars today.) It was the creation of an eccentric stage actor by the name of William Gillette who retired here with his seventeen cats. He was apparently quite the character and built into his home a series of secret passageways and spy mirrors to help him make a “dramatic entrance” when entertaining guests. Unsurprisingly he died in 1937 without any heirs and left a bizarre will reading the estate was not to go to any “blithering sap-head who has no conception of where he is or with what surrounded.” Somehow this resulted in the state of Connecticut buying the property in 1943 for the low-low sum of five thousand dollars. It languished in ruin until a four year eleven million dollar restoration project allowed it to reopen to the public in 2002. And boy is it worth it!
We wandered off after thoroughly checking out the outside of the castle. To the side of it was an old train platform. Apparently at one time it ran a private rail 3 miles onto the property.
“This is the kind of place we could fortify for the apocalypse.” My travel companion plotted.
“Well there is a huge root cellar, access to the river, and my God it’s peaceful up here.”
We found ourselves a trail and tried to make our way to the weird hobbit bridge with nothing but our broken sense of direction. This resulted in a delightful face-paced walk through what seemed an enchanted wood. There were lovely slate outcroppings, some nice view of the bogs, and random ruins such as disused wells smattered about. We found our way to a tunnel, perhaps part of the old train rail? We walked into it. It was super dark and cold. Had a weird feel about it but I suppose any place like that does. On the way back I’d joyfully suggest we go through it without our phone flashlights. I found this more enjoyable and less creepy!
Meanwhile the trails in the woods eventually did bring us to the fountain and bridge which made for a lovely photo opportunity and I am sure would have been far prettier in the summer when it’s full of water and not swamp mud and dead leaves.
On our way back we found an old wooden trestle that had partially collapsed and took a few photos. By now it was getting late and we had our nice little walk. It was a fun day and this was the perfect detour to add to it. When we found ourselves back to the car the turkey vulture swooped very low above us and showed its immense size. And then a stairway on the hillside caught my travel companion’s eye so up we went to check out this last little nook. Up above there were a series of picnic tables and another strange little ruin. I am not sure what it was but it was fun to poke at. Maybe it was a tower? Who knows.
When we drove out of that place we were WELL satisfied but the day wasn’t done with us yet because only a few miles down the road I found myself forking over $5 to drive the Prius onto a “historic ferry.” I’ve been on a car ferry before… in Europe…. but never in the US! And this was a hell of a ride. The expanse between the river banks was shockingly wide. And what do you know – I am still phobic of boats. I was fine until it started moving and then I wasn’t so fine. I know, it’s a ferry, chill. I calmed down but it took me a moment. I was still happy to get to the other side… feeling accomplished. Exposure therapy? Something.
ANYWAY, I’d highly recommend the castle and even the ferry ride to other explorers, travelers, and lovers of the strange and unusual.
UPDATE:
Last week we realized the castle was once again open for visitors to see the inside so of course we had to go for a repeat trek. We were not disappointed!
There weren’t many people there that day – just a few families and a tour of elderly including an 84 year old man who looked great for such an advanced age and a woman he was travelling with that had the Muppets theme song for her ringtone (how adorable is that??) ANYWAY… we parked in their super sunny parking lot, slipped on our required masks, and went inside the information center to buy tickets to the castle. They only allowed 15 people at a time in at any given point and tour guides stood in various locations to answer questions. The first was a young woman with a lot of enthusiasm for her job who delighted in showing us all how cat-proofed the castle was since it was more or less dedicated to the seventeen felines that shared Gillette’s life. Cute little froggy knickknacks were literally cemented to the fireplace so the little furry bastards couldn’t knock them off. An ornate table nearby clacked to life when it was realized it’s elaborate wooden skirt was actually built to be a cat toy. This place was awesome just for that but it got better…
The doors were all unique contraptions with complex steam punk mechanisms carved into them. The light switches matched. And if that wasn’t enough to love the wonderfully weird mind that came up with this then the description of his life here really settled it. On the balcony overlooking the first floor there were mirrors placed everywhere so he could tell who was in the house and where. If it was someone he didn’t like he’d retreat to his bedroom and pretend not to be there (and introvert’s dream!) Or if he was in the mood to be playful, which seemed to often be the case, he could lock wandering souls into the adjoining bar. The only exit was obviously a trick door – I mean at that point, why not? And watching them scratch around like rats in search of an escape probably amused him more than it should have.
Gillette grew to be an increasingly intriguing figure as we made our way through his castle. He was a stage actor in NYC whose claim to fame (and fortune) came from his performance as Sherlock Holmes. He was even cited as being the one who added the line, “It’s elementary, my dear fellow!” (which was later changed to Watson.) The castle was so far into the middle of nowhere he had to build his own train line to get there. Some of the stations still remain. And if all of that isn’t impressive enough he also wrote a popular play at the time about the Civil War and wrote a novel as well – a mystery novel with that I can only guess had intensely flowery language. If it were still being printed I would sooo have bought one from the gift shop but alas, there is only a copy in his little second floor art gallery in a little glass box. And that’s the other thing – a whole little art gallery full of paintings, books, and local history! The architecture equally as baffling as the rest of the castle. It was amazing. I love eccentric historical figures. They’re never boring. In fact with renovations still ongoing there was this odd playful feeling throughout the whole second floor. I pondered if maybe he wasn’t still lingering the halls. A copy of his most unusual will was displayed on the wall.
I’m super happy we went to this castle – twice. I will probably go again just because it’s so damn weird and beautiful. And outside the hiking trails around the property are just as quaint as can be and you can find tiny train stations and tunnels strewn about still, although the tracks are long since gone. I sort of naively hope maybe they’ll be replaced someday.
Holy Land USA, dubbed “Jesus’ Junkyard” by fellow enthusiasts is one of those places that I had heard about a lot in the past couple of years and had on my bucket list. I realize I have done painfully little in Connecticut but it’s a bit harder to get to than some of the other places in New England I have haunted on a more frequent basis. I may have continued to put this particular trip off except I mentioned it to my travel companion and how if I was going to go this year it’d have to be soon before it starts snowing. His eyes lit up and we started actual plans to go.
Holy Land USA was built in 1955 and enjoyed up to 40,000 visitors a year in its prime before being closed in 1984. The hope was to expand the site or move it elsewhere but it’s founder died in 1986 and it remained abandoned. Since then it’s been a bit of a morbid attraction to urban explorers like myself. It grew an even darker appeal in 2010 when a sixteen year old girl was raped and murdered under one of the crosses, bringing not just urban explorers to the site but paranormal investigators.
Obviously, we were going during the day just to see the ruins rather than exploit a tragedy. The last two abandoned amusement parks we went to were pretty much stand alone sites with not much around them. One had been turned into a park and one was nestled in the woods. I expected something similar with this but that just wasn’t the case. When I was maybe a mile off from my destination I found myself winding through a rough neighborhood in the middle of a proper city – Waterbury. This couldn’t be right. There couldn’t be an abandoned amusement park nestled in the hills amongst derelict homes smack dab in the middle of a city block – could it? I figured the internet and the GPS were once again conspiring to kill us. But then I drove up a hill to where it said the destination was and I’ll be damned… I was greeted with two big gates and a lot of signs all reading Holy Land. Huuuuuuuh. I guess Jesus really does love impoverished peoples.
There was no official parking lot, nor any clear place to park aside the street and no one else was here so I basically just scooted the car as far as I could off the road (which wasn’t much) and we got out. Initially visitors used to be discouraged from coming here but it’s been such a popular destination that locals gave up trying to police this and instead put up signs saying no visitors after dark. Fair enough.
We were the only ones here at this point so we headed in. The gates were purely aesthetic as the park itself was not fenced in and we were able to just waltz right in. We were greeted with a little entrance that gave three options, “Jerusalem, Holy Land, Bethlehem.” It must have been made for a shorter generation as I barely got under it without ducking. Beyond this was what looked to be a tiny ruined city reminiscent of the apocalypse. The Virgin Mary lived on here… behind bars in a cave. Morbid.
There were trails remaining around the park and through the weeds as well as a circle of pavement around the back. We made our way through reading some of the signs that had been repainted. I was particularly amused by one that said, “Jesus speaks to the women.” Ah yes, the women, I remember them well. What did he say to them? Go back to the kitchen and make me a sandwich? Maybe. There was no further explanation.
We eventually got to the top of this hill where the crosses were. I guess they’re still lit up at night. The one on it’s own read, “Our Lady of Peace” but was wrapped in barbed wire. It was a jarring juxtaposition that my travel companion noticed first while I was busy taking in the view. We were high above the neighborhood we’d driven through and I could see a large chunk of the city from this vantage point – houses, churches, a decrepit mill, the winding highway… It was very interesting! An unexpected bonus.
We walked around and found the saddest Tower of Babel ever, standing a mere few feet in height. A set of three crosses also overlooked the city. And then I found Satan! I think, anyway. He came in the form of an adorable serpent sunbathing on the pavement. I’d never seen a bright green snake like this just roaming free in New England and wondered if he wasn’t someone’s lost pet but a quick Google search revealed he was Smooth Green Snake, totally native to the area. Wasn’t expecting to see a new species today! We took a few photos and let the poor beast be…
“Everywhere we go seems to take two hours of driving and thirty minutes of messing around and then back in the car to drive two hours home.”
“Well, I mean…. we can find somewhere else to go…”
And so on the way home we did end up at a second and actually far more impressive location. The Gillette Castle.
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.
After escaping the velociraptors in the Enchanted Forest we continued our adventuring to yet another abandoned amusement park in Rhode Island. This one was more familiar to my travel companion as he was here in the mid 1990’s before it was abandoned making happy childhood memories. Curranty it’s been transformed into a regular park. Most of the rides were taken apart and sold or thrown away but some structures still remain on the grounds, now accompanied by little plaques!
Actually the park is very pretty even without the added allure of a decaying amusement park. It sits next to the ocean and there’s a lot of open space to run around and enjoy. Upon entering we were greeted with the remains of an old gondola ride – cables and pulleys reaching for the sky, rusted in place. It was pretty dramatic.
As I walked along a fledgling screech owl flopped to the ground at my feet. I was a little stunned, didn’t know if the tiny beast was OK, and started to walk towards him when he gave me that familiar look that I am accustomed to seeing from a cat, the one that says, “I MEANT TO DO THAT! Don’t look at me!” And with that he made a very klutzy return to the air. It was an event that only took a few seconds but it delighted me.
People were fishing on the docks, several children were flying kites on the grass, and we were moseying about reading the plaques. Apparently this place was where the first presidential phone call was administered in a very public setting. The whole story was recounted on this plaque: (or not as the photo doesn’t want to upload…)
But as interesting as that history we were here to poke around the weird structures. By now we couldn’t even figure out what they were anymore. Weeds and vegetation had taken its toll and it just wasn’t obvious anymore without the help of the plaques. Still my travel companion wanted to see the caves which were reportedly a little teenage escape back in the day… hidden from the rest of the park they would take the Gondola ride up there and jump off to meet clandestinely.
So we made our way up there and there was indeed a little rocky alcove with a few caves. Clearly teenagers were still living it up in the area as there was the usual scattering of broken glass, used condoms, and F*ck Tr*mp graffiti. Ah, the passion and the angst. I goddamn love you little delinquents.
We scrambled about the rocks going deeper and deeper into the woods before deciding to head back. It was a fun little escape and this park endeared me to it. We got to see some creepy trees, the haunted house, and what remains of the swing before we left. It was a good time all around and the perfect fall day to attend such a place.
Last week’s adventures had a theme – abandoned theme parks! And we started with this one which was… an adventure. It always is.
It was another FaceBook suggestion which I have found to be a total coin toss when it comes to being worth it. I thought this was the place with the abandoned fairy village but no, that was a different Facebook suggestion which I will refind later.
In fact this place was kind of hard to find. It wasn’t really around too much civilization which you would expect of a theme park… The GPS played a few games with the street address before we finally arrived. There was a decrepit sign aside the road that led to a terrifyingly rough parking lot which had been nearly completely taken over by weeds and shrubs. The parking lot was paved but that isn’t’ saying much considering there was grass jutting out from the many cracks in it. This was like all the photos you see of current day Chernobyl, probably the sketchiest place we’ve been yet!
Things got even more creepy as we made our way towards the woods and found… a couch! Why? I have no goddamn idea but here it was, covered in spray paint, torn apart, but still in bizarrely good condition considering which suggests it hadn’t been there for long. Clearly this was where local teenagers came to drink. Been finding a lot of their secret hiding places as of late… maybe I am trying to find my own inner teen who didn’t really have much of a life back in the day, certainly less adventure than I do now.
Beyond the couch there were trails, of a sort, although there were no signs, no markers, no real suggestion that they were for people and not just overgrown deer paths. This place was supposed to have ruins scattered about but we didn’t come across much until we were fairly far down these paths. The first things looked like maybe the roof of a doghouse? And a wishing well nearby. From there we found what looked like an abandoned mini barn which some delightfully positive delinquent spray painted, “Someone loves you!” on the front of. You got to love life affirming graffiti. You, my dear tagger, have it right. Keep on shining!
The insides were of course covered and more typical of what you might expect. From here we crossed a little bridge, found some sort of open storage house decaying out here with perfectly good PVC still stacked up under them. From he we ended up wandering cluelessly onto a nearby golf course before going back into the woods from whence we came. This place was so overtaken with vegetation I felt like we were urban explorers trekking through Ingene Island trying to dodge nests of velociraptors…. and maybe a few pterodactyls.
When we came back to the parking lot I noticed trees blocked all of the Enchanted Forest’s sign except for what looked like “The END.” Fitting! And creepy! And of course when we got back to the car the one other person there had emerged from the thicket and was looking suspiciously at us. He was clearly a teenager, loitering about, maybe waiting for friends and we… were probably just a confusing sight to him with our unfamiliar baby faces.
The East Coast got a little bit of a shake-up the other day as a tropical storm hit. Some of us even had tornado warnings. I was in Rhode Island and the damage here wasn’t quite so fierce. There was a lot of wind and then maybe 10 minutes of downpouring rain and then…. massive power outages. Which was the perfect motivation to go back outside on another little side quest. To the Glen Farm Trail!
I’ve never heard of the Glen Farm Trail but seeing as I was being offered to check it out I couldn’t really say no. I have been to a bunch of little trails in populous areas and although the city parks are adorable and well maintained they rarely have much interesting in them. This trail however had a lot of character.
For one going directly after a rain storm made for some interesting lighting that added just the right amount of whimsy. Secondly it cut through a slate forest – this region (and Boston) are where the slate was quarried that would later be made into those beautiful grave stones I am always admiring. So it was interesting to see the rock in it’s natural habitat as it were but it was better than that.
Here I found a bunch of No Trespassing signs and a fence which had been unceremoniously toppled.
“Some guy bought the surrounding property and is being a dick about it. The locals said ‘Fuck this fence’ and now we just walk over it.”
I appreciated the community spirit of mass rebellion. And I can see why they’d be so insistent. There was something really charming about this little forest and the weird slate walls that popped up here and there as well as the small slate bridges. But that wasn’t what we were here for. That would be an old abandoned ice house just sitting here in the woods looking adorable and sad all at the same time.
Now if you don’t know what an ice house is I’ll give you a brief run down. Back before electricity and refrigerators the only way you could get ice would to harvest it in the winter from lakes and rivers and ship it in insulated containers wherever it needed to go. The old “ice boxes” that predated our modern fridges ran off a block of ice replaced every day or so. It was a rich person’s luxury and a whole industry here in the North. A whole industry that died a rather sudden death with the invention of electricity and refrigeration.
I was delighted to find we could skip across the little river and enter this archaic structure. Apparently others had come before and just like the last place I went it was covered in graffiti which is always a source of entertainment for me. Good graffiti artists can do some really impressive work but bad graffiti artists… well they’re just hilarious. And frequently very confusing! But it’s all good fun to try and puzzle out.
After this we found a tiny ocean beach at the end of another of the trails. It’s been a long time since I have been oceanside. The smell of the salt and the lapping of the waves enlivened my spirit. We sat and watched someone flying a kite in the far distance and enjoyed the moment. It was a nice way to keep cool and calm.
I’d suggest this trail to anyone in the area as it seems to have just a little magic in it.
“The Bells” were on my list of things to check out for quite a while, long before I knew a local who wanted me to go see them. That being said it was perfect going with someone who actually knew about them.
I had learned about them from Atlas Obscura and I couldn’t help but feel like the ruined and possibly haunted stables of a once grand estate sounded like a terribly fun place to check out. It’s surrounded by public land and little trails so after parking we made our way through a field to the trail which led directly to the stables with very little walking. The whimsy was overwhelming from this angle. To every side there were trees clawing their way into the structure and lush greenery creating an oddly tropical looking trail by it. It was magnificent but we were just starting.
Down one of the paths nearby, and not very much of a walk at all, there was a tower also on the grounds which you could climb to see an even more stunning view of the stables from above. From here the stables had the feel of a Gothic horror – just a castle slowly crumbling back into nature.
Afterwards we came back down and looped back past the structure. The view from the ground was a lot less dramatic but still whimsical in it’s decay. It was surrounded on all sides by a fence. Even though I am not usually one for trespassing curiosity killed the cat with this one and I too waited until no one was looking to follow aforementioned local into this enticing mystery.
Here I found a great deal of graffiti from ceiling to floor covering every inch of space. There were indeed stalls inside for once spoiled horses, including two box stalls at the end which makes me think there may have even been the occasional foal born here – though don’t quote me on that.
What I do know is that the stables are the only thing left from what was once a grand and majestic 1876 estate that fell into disrepair before burning down in 1960. While I enjoyed reading the graffiti I was regaled with tales of ghost horses galloping in the mist that surrounds the property at night. It was a delightful story in a gorgeous setting. Even the parking lot was sort of amazing – a nice view of the coast with a lighthouse standing stoically in the distance and waves anxiously lapping the shore.
Being such a gorgeous day a lot of people were out with their dogs and children but almost everyone was masked and courteous and this was not as populated with people as some of the other trails I have ventured this year. All and all it was a wonderful little adventure and well worth poking around a little bit.
I took A TON of photos which I will display below in sections. First up is The Stables:
Next up is the tower/view of the stables from above:
I admit most of the time I am a lone hiker wandering the woods in search of spiritual inspiration but on this day I decided to be a little more amicable. I went out, clad in my mask, with a family – two small children in tow. We needed to go somewhere they would not die of exhaustion and need to be carried home so Simmons Pond it was, apparently an old favorite haunt. I was all the happier to tag along.
I admit this was out of my comfort zone because during the corona epidemic it was more peopled than I am used to… there was a large parking lot and it had quite a few cars in it. Hikers passed by at will and some were masked although others were not. But they say Rhode Island is one of only two states to have a decreasing risk of Corona so I tried to relax my newly acquired germaphobia just enough to at least enjoy myself out here in the open air.
It’s been interesting. I wasn’t even 200 feet up the trail before I saw something dark black in color move on the ground at the side of the path. I thought it might be a salamander or something so I looked a little harder. I didn’t see anything. So I shuffled my feet until I saw it again. It wasn’t a salamander. It was a baby ringneck snake. I had a brief discussion with myself, “Should I pick this little cutey up? The kids might find it interesting. This is your first outing with them – for the love of god don’t go all Crocodile Hunter on them. Be NoRmAl. Nooooormaaaaalllll”
Obviously I had no choice but to pick it up and then yell, “HEY! LOOK WHAT I FOUND!” Which caused some unrelated hikers to walk up from behind to check the situation out.
“Oh my God, that thing is TINY. HOW DID YOU SEE THAT?!”
The kids toddled up. I let them pet it before releasing it back into the bushes – forgetting to take a photo. We walked a ways down the path which was quaint and well maintained with all sorts of informative plaques about the local plant life and the various ruined foundations that were smattered about this once-farm. I was told this was the job of the local Boy Scouts to maintain. Wow. Where I am from the Boy Scouts whittle sticks… if they’re lucky. And that’s way cooler than what the Girl Scouts are up to — which is why I always wanted to be a Boy Scout. AH! Childhood memories of disappointment and confusion!
When we got to the pond we all sat down on its banks and enjoyed a wee picnic. The kids seemed to be lethally allergic to food in general so this was a bit of a circus but I was enjoying it. It was the perfect day for this sort of thing. After lunch had concluded mama wanted to stay behind with the kids and read a book so I wandered off with my remaining hiking companion to a little loop trail nearby and explored that for the next 20 or 30 minutes. The farther I went the less people there were and the calmer I became. I enjoyed poking around another large cellar hole that was overgrown with ferns. It provided a nice opportunity for photos even though I’d forgotten my actual camera and only had my cell phone.
It was a nice short walk – perfectly level – impossible to get lost on. When we got back the kids wanted to show me “a really huge scary bug” so I walked with them to a bench next to the water leaving the other adults behind. The bug had gone but the kids were thrilled to have me around. The little one got really close to the water’s edge and I pulled him back the first time but realizing it was only two inches of water and I was standing right there in case he toppled in I just let it go. I save my policing for matches and knives. This is likely why I don’t have children. On the way back the little squirts fought over who got to hold my hand.
“Is this…. usual?” I had to ask. “Your kids wanting to hold a stranger’s hand?”
“Well I mean I haven’t really had any female friends around them in a long time sooo….”
All and all this was a very pleasant place full of history and charm and I would highly suggest it to anyone who needs an easy amble. Or a place to walk the kiddoes. Or perhaps just someone who wants both a nature walk and to see a tiny old family cemetery which sits at it’s entrance.
I was so delighted with the unnamed trail I found in Petersham that I decided to go back and do a far more known trail – one that hooked to where I had already hiked. It was also on Quaker Road, with a small parking lot, lots of signage, and a cellar hole right out front attached to the parking lot. Here I found 4 people parked HORRIBLY which forced me to park bizarrely in return but I figured it out…
It was a gorgeous day to go out and I was super happy to be back once again. Although the trail started through a meadow it wove through the woods in a very clear path. This was the sort of well-kept trail you often find closer to cities with lots of people on them but on this day there were hardly anyone else out there – just another couple of hikers on one of the adjoining trails and two women on horseback. This would be a LOVELY place to horseback ride!
Throughout the trail there were several cellar holes and other historical artifacts that may be of interest. The wildlife was buzzing that day as well – which sadly meant there were quite a few black flies and mosquitoes but that’s all part and parcel to coming out here. What I loved about this place is how quiet it was. There was no human noise what-so-ever. No traffic, no music, no people talking, no kids playing… it was like being dropped out in the middle of the wilderness, a beautiful retreat for the introvert in all of us. And there was moderate inclines every so often – not too bad even though I am woefully out of shape.
About halfway through the trail there’s a little spot where it juts off to another trail and there’s this awesome bridge which I stood on an enjoyed a view of the river for a while before sneaking back to the original loop I was on.
On this particular day I was huffing and puffing from being so direly out of shape, so I decided to only walk the first yellow loop on the map although there’s a bunch of other trails and even loops that attach to this one. In fact there’s an X of trails in between the loop trail, all named Tumble Down, which I am told I must go back to investigate, but we shall see about that! With a name like Tumble Down I have to wonder if it’s all ghastly hills and no scenery. I don’t know… I’ll leave that for a different day!
