Category: Water Scenes

Cat Hollow Park – Killingly CT

*If you’re just here for pretty pictures feel free to scroll to the gallery at the bottom, I took a lot!

You know we haven’t done all that much in Connecticut… so on this particular day that’s where we decided to poke around. Only thing is I don’t know squat about Connecticut so I had to conspire with Google. I asked for a town map because I didn’t want to drive much more than an hour. It’d already been a super packed week. On the border of Connecticut I saw Killingly and decided that sounded like a interesting town name and I asked what was there… Cat Hollow State Park was the answer. Even better it was supposed to be a park with the ruins of two old cotton mills in it.

I didn’t really know what to expect. Probably something swank, this is Connecticut after all. And the park was newly established – only running since 2003. What does a baby park look like? Wellllll….

Driving into town it was indeed a posh area filled with great big mansions behind thick brick walls and iron gates. And all the street names had hideously adorably animal names like Doghouse, Cockcrow, Cat Hollow, and my favorite Peeptoad. Did we fall into a fairy book? No, we most certainly did not, because when we drove up to the park it looked thoroughly abandoned. It was a gate across a road with one car parked in front of it, a big trail map bulletin board with NOTHING on it and I mean nothing, not so much as a scrap of paper or hint it ever said anything on it. There was a bench just beyond but it was looking at nothing except the blocked off road. What just happened?! How did we end up here??

Although not impressed by the state of this place we still decided to get out and look around. And in good spirit I decided to place one of my books on the bench to be found by some passerby as part of my book bombing campaign. Who knows, maybe someone will find it and love it.

We were a bit confused at what we saw from there. Beyond the gate it looked like a very new paved road big enough for cars but obviously not driven on by cars. Infact even though the road looked almost brand new it also looked like it’d been left over from some apocalyptic society collapse. It was odd. Not far up the path we found another bench, this one had its leg chained to a pole with no less than three locks but the pole was only 2 feet off the ground which means the chain loop could have easily been lifted over it if someone was insistent on bringing home this bench. Even funnier still the chained loop wasn’t even a loop. Upon further inspection it was just a chain placed on the ground to look like it looped around something. Very odd!

Then we started seeing the weird graffiti. Every big rock seemed to have the same image on it – that of a neon pink spraypainted figure with big X’s for eyes and a crazy hairdo that made it look either like Mom from Futurama or Nosferatu. If there’s anything I have learned in the past few years it’s that teenagers love abandoned places and things. Wherever you can find ruins in the woods you will also find great evidence of teenagers. The two for whatever reason are inseparable and these odd tags throughout the park only further proved this observation.

It wasn’t far in that we came by a fence – the most woeful fence I have ever seen in my life. Behind it there was some sort of wrought iron equipment sat on the river, maybe the remains of a water turbine or something similar. The fence did nothing to keep me away from it as just around the edge of the fence was a path where people were clearly going around to see it anyway. And beyond that there was a rough path into the wilderness which I honestly couldn’t tell if it was made by humans or deer but I figured what the hell might as well “bushwhack” our way through this as one internet guide suggested we might have to do in this park. And it wasn’t too far away that we found the first substantial set of ruins over this river.

This trail seemed to have ended at these ruins so after poking around we headed back up towards the road and continued on foot from there. Apparently, this road extended for half a mile. We wouldn’t get that far though before we found more trails jutting off the sides. We decided to take another one right around the edges of a fence that seemed to have a different set of ruins behind them. This one brought us into the woods to a very serene little spot where the river had more or less dried up so we could wander over it at will.

It was then we realized all the rocks at the bottom of this riverbed were blackened which seemed very weird. Was this some sort of pollution form the 1800’s? Probably not, after coming home I learned these mills all burned down, one as recently as 2001. You could see the charred line on some of the larger rocks a little downstream.

We walked along the river’s edge for quite a while until we came to the biggest feature of the park – a giant stone wall over the river that on a normal day is a beautiful waterfall. They must be suffering drought this year as there wasn’t so much as a trickle. There was however a young man meditating on a rock underneath it, weary of our presence. We wandered on.

I think we ended up doing the trails ass backwards because this is when we found the “picnic area” and the sign denoting the beginning of the trail being choked out by vines. This seemed fitting for this part. Here we also found more graffiti (with one rock literally looking like a kindergartner painted on it) and of course another trail that led under some bridges and out into a field on Main Street. It was cool under the bridges, and we loitered for a while digging the graffiti salamander looking down at us.

After returning from that dead end we found what looked like another trail on the high ground making jokes about bigfoot and starting to sweat from the oppressive heat and humidity. We took a few breaks and just mucked about before finding our way back from where we came. I’m told there’s a mile and a half of trails out there but every map shows something different and when we were on the ground there wasn’t any markers or guides or even any way to note when a trail had started soooo…. it was a fun place to wander but uh, poorly organized on the park’s side. That being said seeing the ruins were very cool and we both enjoyed just chilling out there in nature.

When we finally managed to find our way back to the car it was only then we found the signs saying what we could find here in the park and where to go. They were… in rough shape. Could have been used as the set of a post-apocalyptic horror movie. But hey, I guess it’s an E for Effort?

Sadly no one took my book in the two hours we spent puttering about.

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Purgatory Falls – Lyndeborough NH

I am a relentless insomniac so when I woke up at 5 in the morning for no reason whatsoever I decided to make the best of it and see if I could find a trail. The early morning was eerie as there was almost no traffic and miles of dragon’s breath both hugging the top of Mount Monadnock and tickling the surface of every lake and pond I passed. It would be a PERFECT time to go do a pond hike! And maybe find some more little free libraries to gift a signed book. It sounded good… I had even found a trail online before I left the house. The Heron Pond Trail. This trip was organized. Too organized.

As it turns out there wasn’t a damn thing on Heron Pond Road outside of an elementary school nestled in the woods and a lot of bizarre “reptile crossing” signs. This was doubly frustrating since I passed no less than five trail heads on the way there. Five trail heads I no longer remembered where they were. And every time I thought I might be close to one of them a car would come out of nowhere and lodge itself six inches from my bumper. People had NO patience for a doddering Prius today. None at all. I even got honked at for… get this… switching my blinker on and turning. I know, the audacity! I was only turning to get that damn pickup truck off my ass. It’s always pickup trucks.

Anyway, as I was pissing off every driver on the road by merely existing, I stumbled onto Purgatory Falls! It had clear sign, some available parking, and it was on my bucket list from a few years ago after I had checked out the other side at Lower Purgatory Falls. Serendipity strikes again! This made up for the three cemeteries I passed without checking out. That was painful.

The parking lot was oddly shaped and had enough room on this day for 5 cars. More could have probably fit if the original pickup truck didn’t park like a total asscracker. And this must have been a popular place because up and down the road outside the parking lot there was a lot of no parking signs. I toddled out, took a photo of their sign and headed in. Also if you see the border collie listed on the missing poster please call those poor people. They PLASTERED the entire area with these notices. Clearly this is a much loved and very missing dog.

Speaking of dogs… As I headed up the trail an old couple were coming out with their bear of a dog that they were keeping on a super short leash which I took to mean I should keep a good distance. I tried. But there isn’t much path. Luckily, he was only holding the dog back because he was wet and not because he wanted to potentially eat me. After stating as much I laughed, approached, and gave him a good scratch. I think it was a Burmese Mountain Dog. Huge, fluffy, probably very huggable when not wet.

Anyway…. that distraction aside I kept walking. Just like in Lower Purgatory Falls this path was… confusing. It was well maintained and cleared but not marked and seemed to have a complete rat’s nest of little tributary trails jutting off it. All seemed to lead to the same place, so I tried not to think too much about it. I can say I was absolutely delighted to find the same graffiti here that there was at Lower Purgatory – that of a spray-painted rock with cat ears reading PURRgatory. I mean if you’re going to paint graffiti you should always make sure it’s 1) adorable and 2) punderful.

I wasn’t out there terribly long when I came to a great chasm where I am guessing the falls usually are – the only thing is we’re currently suffering a drought and the water was the lowest I’ve ever seen, only a tiny trickle of a gully below. Even so I had walked far enough into the woods not to hear traffic anymore and it was still beautiful. I walked on until I found a little branched off mini trail along the water’s edge. There I found a huge gear of some sort clearly from another era just chilling in what should have been the river. Because it was so dry I was able to climb over the river to see it as well as the stone ruins that surrounded it. Twitter tells me it was part of a water turbine and probably produced power at some point. This makes sense for the area – it may have even been part of a mill. Who knows. I sat there on a fallen tree playing with this artifact and enjoying the woods for quite some time. It felt nourishing but I had other things to do so I continued on. I walked until I could smell the distinct odor of cow poo and see an electric fence. This is where the trail ended for me. I *think* the trail was supposed to hook up with the trail through Lower Purgatory but if this is the case I got off the beaten path somehow. Oh well, it was still a decent enough distraction and I left feeling content. By the time I left at 9:30 or so in the morning the parking lot was so full I was barely able to get out – in fact I had to back out into the road blind. Always love doing that. In a Prius. On a busy 50MPH road. Keeps the blood going that’s for sure!

Anyway, it was a nice little walk. It was easy, short, had some great views, and is apparently very amicable to dogs. Although I imagine it’s probably much prettier when there are actual falls here… I don’t know, maybe save that for another day!

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Casalis State Forest Route 123 Entrance – Peterborough NH

I’m not going to lie. Mentally I haven’t been doing so great lately and honestly, I am suspicious of anyone who is on top of the world right now. It’s been a rough few weeks and there has been so many people just burned out and screaming into the void as the world burns. I’m right there with them. And I know life is sucking HARD right now for a lot of us which is why I have decided I needed more trees in my life. A LOT MORE TREES. Because trees are good people. They’re quiet, they gives homes to birds, they never say anything mean, and when we’re not watching they make oxygen!

So I struck out on my own. I know for the past couple of years almost all my adventures have been with travel companions and that’s cool, I still enjoy it, but that doesn’t change the fact I still need to submit myself to the solitude of the forest on my own every now and again. So I shall be doing more hiking – as much as my angry body allows.

Today I started driving to an actual hiking destination (which is more planning than I usually put into these things) but then I got completely and utterly distracted when I found the entrance to this trail on my way. Clearly it was calling me so I had to go in. In the rain. Because it was also raining (yes, I’m that desperate to go play in the woods.)

And I must say skulking through some swampy woods in the rain was exactly what I needed. I spent two hours wandering from the route 123 entrance to the other side of the park at the Condy Road entrance. Along the way I took sooo many photos of raindrops on leaves, found a whole swarm of orange newts and said hi to every one of them, and somehow didn’t get lost even though the trail was not marked and diverged at several points. That being said it was for the most part a very flat trail with only a couple mild inclines at the beginning. I could hear cars for most of the trek but also tons of birdsong and a couple bullfrogs to boot. Someone had even brought their horse down here at some point as I found their leavings and some hoof prints. And of course, I had to pick up two dog ticks along the way. BLECK. All and all it was a nice little find and fed my soul. So if you happen to be in the area and needing a little tete a tete with nature I would suggest this happy little trail.

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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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Cliff Walk Newport RI- Part II – From Hiking Point 7-15

I told you we’d be back to take another shot at Cliff Walk. This time we almost accomplished the whole second half! But I’m getting ahead of myself…

First we figured out where we’d left off and then parked as close as we could to it in a spot that neither one of us felt was legal but you know… sometimes you just have to take the chance with the meter maids. We started near hiking point 7 – The Breakers. We’d already seen a lot of this on our first crack at it so we basically speed walked our way through all the sights and the cool egg-shaped tunnel in the rocks. This end of Cliff Walk was MUCH less populated than the other end and we were more or less alone for most of the journey with only an old hippie woman ahead of us – again beating my ass at this whole exercise thing. Damn she could ankle! SIIIIGH.

It was a hot day but there was a refreshing sea breeze coming off the water that for the most part kept me going. At other points it just smelled of rank and rotting seaweed. We were horrified to find some hikers had wandered off the path at one point to one of these little mini beaches and were swimming in the same fetid seaweed water that was giving off such an ungodly stench. It was two young women, one with a cigarette, each almost waist deep in the water squealing whenever the sea vomited up more half fermented seaweed to tangle around their legs. The chick with the cigarette raised it above her head every time the crashing tides came in. It was… a sight. And a smell!

“Oh man, they’re going to smeeeeeelllll when they get home…” Even the many dogs we had seen hiking with their masters weren’t rolling in that water – in fact they were panting off in the opposite direction – which really says something.

Newport is FULL of beaches. Most of them do not smell. In fact there were a couple other little semi private inlets on this walk alone that would have provided a better option… but to each their smelly own!

This stretch of the Cliff Walk was definitely more intense than the first half. There was a lot more scrabbling, a lot more rocks, a lot more antiquated staircases crumbling under the stresses only salt water can provide. But with these rocky stretches came new and beautiful sights. We could still see the sea angrily rushing towards shore, sometimes bringing with it piles of rocks that clacked and rumbled in the most whimsical way. There were a lot fewer birds but in their place we found a whole host of tide pools which are fun in their own right. I didn’t see too much life other than algae in them but I’m sure if I spent the time I may have found some periwinkles or itty bitty crabs or something. It’s been a dog’s year since I have gone tide pooling. It’s like looking into a little micro world you knew nothing about.

My hiking companion asked what the sea birds were. I hadn’t a clue. He’s the one that lives next to the sea! “But all I know are sea gulls and they suck.” Google later answered the question of what the big black birds having a meeting on a rock were – cormorants. Here ends all knowledge I have of said birds. They seemed chill. Certainly more so than sea gulls which let’s face it – are indeed the mosquitos of the bird world – being both obnoxious and somehow everywhere.

Meanwhile we were having fun with the more decrepit parts of the walk. We kept finding crumbled walls, bricked up stair cases, a few flits of graffiti, and random broken pipes and metal bits jutting out of the rocks off shore. It was an interesting contrast to the mansions which continued to line the path.

“Who owns that one?”

“I don’t know. I think Jay Leno has a house out here somewhere.”

“OK, I’m officially picking that one as the one the town witch lives in.”

“Why?”

“Every town needs a witch and that place looks old and beaten down.” (It did however have far more character than the better manicured mansions.)

It was wild out here – who knew that so much landscaping went into having a mansion next to the sea. We both got a good whiff of moo doo. But hey, it sure was green!

I was super proud of myself for only having to take a few very tiny breaks – and those were all due to overheating which was a vast improvement over exhaustion and pain. I still drank like a camel on leave but hey I made it! When we found ourselves at another street we decided to turn back even though the end of the trail was probably within spitting distance and you KNOW we’re going to have to go back a third time just to finish the damn thing. Point was my car was still illegally parked and we sorta needed to get back so whoosh! We waved to our new hippie friend (who had met with her family at this little cragged beach and was joining them fishing) and turned around.

All and all it was another lovely walk – this time a little better for an introvert such as myself as there were less people out here. I would still strongly suggest it if you’re in the area… just uh… be mindful of the parking situation. (And if you’re wondering – no, I did not end up with a ticket. We managed to ninja our way out of there without so much as a fuss.)

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Cliff Walk – Newport RI

This week we went out to the Cliff Walk in Newport RI. I’d never heard of it but then again I have done a shockingly little amount of research on the city I keep finding myself in. That’s why it’s good to have a local on hand. A local who was so used to seeing the sites in these parts he didn’t even think this walk would be enough for a Catching Marbles entry! Nonsense! It was beautiful! And others should know about it!

I didn’t really know what I was in for – besides a good view of a great deal of seaside mansions and of course the ocean. I was not disappointed in this regard. We decided we wanted to do this particular adventure at sundown. This was particularly convenient because parking was easy to find at the nearby beach at this time of day since most beach goers were already packing up and going home. We put enough coin in the parking meter to last two hours. This would not be enough. Google says it’s a three and a half mile walk that takes on average two and a half to three hours and I am guessing that is going from the beginning to the end, not counting the return back to the beginning! So my advice? Feed the meter for AT LEAST 3 hours if you intend to do the whole stretch. More would be even better.

The beginning of the path seemed to still have a great deal of tourists from all over the world happily taking selfies and whatnot. There was a sign that clearly marked out the various sites and how far it was to each one. This was one of those paths you just couldn’t stray off of without knowing – and it was massively discouraged both by path signs and Private Property signs. But I was most amused by the warning signs which seemed to be every 50 feet or so and depicted a stick figure falling off and into the sea as if this is a super common experience. I half-way expected there to be guards armed with fly swatters thwacking anyone who went off the path. Believe me it was a lot more difficult to lob yourself off the side than the signs seem to imply.

“Are there a lot of suicides here or something?” I asked with one raised eye brow.

“I don’t know. I think it’s more just stupid people doing stupid things.”

At this point I looked up and saw a hawk so I pointed it out to my companion. There were also two sea gulls so he had a hard time at first distinguishing them. This lasted until two smaller birds started dive bombing the hawk making it obvious which predator was lurking too close to their nests. And they were serious! They eventually ended up with reinforcements and after there were no less than four small birds brazenly taking shots at him the hawk stopped hovering in place and started to move as effortlessly as a kite down the coastline and out of sight. Ah, drama.

After a half mile we came to 40 Steps which as it’s title would imply is a set of 40 steps that goes down to the rocky shoreline allowing for a wonderful view. Tourists gathered here, some looking out at the houses on the coastline on the opposite shore, some looking at the waves splattering over the rocks, some just seemingly in a moment of contemplation. I was enjoying the fresh smell of salt water – something I don’t come across too often and not too many of my adventures have involved the ocean.

After staying a moment we went back up the steps and continued on. The breeze coming off the ocean felt amazing as I was beginning to overheat again… By now we had started to come upon the mansions. Some of which my companion knew what they were – others not. I was however most impressed with what turned out to be a college campus. The building had a delightful Gothic flair, with the most ornate gates I had ever seen (which is impressive because most of these properties had flamboyant iron gates so far.) But what really tugged at my heart was an extensive widow’s walk on the roof. It’s a common thing to see on old houses built on the coast. It was for people who were left shoreside as their loved ones went to sea. Whenever they were supposed to return home their loved ones could make their way to the roof and watch for their ship’s arrival. They’re called widow’s walks because there were an awfully lot of women who watched in vain, their fiancés or husbands having been taken by the sea. It’s a morbid bit of local folklore and I love it.

We wandered briefly off the path and up a little road onto the campus so I could get a better look at those towering iron gates. They looked like the entrance to Hogwarts or something. It was amazing. By now the sun was setting behind the mansions (not the sea which I think my companion was hoping for) and my camera was struggling with the unusual lighting.

We continued on wondering what the signs meant when they said most of the path was easy but there was a few hard stretches. Neither one of us could imagine this paved and flat path being in any way difficult but sure enough we eventually came to a couple parts where we had to scrabble over some rocks. However this was still SUPER easy, the easiest scrabble I had ever come across. The rocks were part of a breaking wall and were large, flat-topped, and fixed in place. The only bad thing about them is the beach they were protecting which reeked so badly of decayed seaweed at one point that we were both getting sick from the smell. That was however short lasted as we made our way towards the tea house. When the tea house started to peek through the vegetation it looked like it was straight out of China. It was a bit… disorienting, if I am honest. In fact this was only one of two spots which had me questioning where I was – we also had to climb through a little alley that looked remarkably like something from the residential neighborhoods of Amsterdam and that’s not including one or two buildings we passed with unexpectedly Bavarian architecture. It was like we were going around the world!

There was a tunnel going around the tea house that was longer than expected, dark, and went around a corner. I love that sort of thing and was doubly entertained to find the other side of it came with a warning sign wrapped in barbed wire – again warning us not to stray off the path (and climb the tunnel and teahouse?!)

We decided to keep walking to the second tunnel which charismatically called from the distance like a little rabbit hole in the hillside. After a little more scrabbling we made it there and it was much quieter out here. We’d walked past most other hikers and now we were in this second tunnel alone. It was egg shaped and short and we could see the ocean through both sides of it. The wind was condensed in this tunnel and fairly violent but damn did it feel good.

At this point, probably 3/4ths of the way to the end of Cliff Walk we decided to turn around and hoof it back to the car to beat the parking meter which was ticking away like a doomsday clock. Apparently the meter maids here are fierce and getting fined is crazy common. So I let my companion walk ahead of me as I dragged my ass behind him – getting hotter and hotter and starting to get blisters alongside both feet from heel to toe. Eventually I walked past the point that my muscles hurt but I wasn’t as fortunate with my feet. Every step was PAINFUL and by the time I made it to the car I was halfway hoping there was ten minutes or so in the meter so I could dip my feet in the cold ocean water at the beach we parked at. But no, the second we got to the meter to look at it the thing timed out. Well if that isn’t a sign I don’t know what is… And so I left. I’ve been paying for this power walk into oblivion for the past couple days now… but it was well worth it and maybe one of these days I’ll be fit enough not to let these crazy easy flat paths kick my ass.

Now to enjoy my twilight photos…

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Rams Tail Trail and Mill Factory Ruins & Nearby Haunted Bridge – Foster RI

How to get there:

During this adventure we got lost and turned around half a dozen times reading conflicting information on other blogs. So before I go any further here is how to get there: First locate Historic Cemetery #45 (Also called the Hopkins Mills Cemetery) at the beginning of Danielson Pike. Go to the very end of the cemetery and you’ll find a trail head with a few parking spaces. Take this path to the river (not that far away… certainly less than a mile) and voila! You should see the ruins there. SUPER EASY.

The History:

Foster RI is a pretty rural place, even today. It has a certain rugged beauty and this apparently is nothing new. It was incorporated in 1781 after separating from Scituate and for the next hundred or so years it was considered a rather rough place to live. Indeed, there was a factory here that was the soul of this village. It was the Rams Tail Woolen Mill, powered by the river. Of course at this time in history working the mills would have been a brutal existence and there would have been a lot of unmarried girls and children working the machinery and probably a good deal of accidents and possible deaths but strangely it’s none of these that have led to the area getting a haunted reputation. Instead this may date back to 1822 when former owner Peleg Walker had to hand over his ownership of the factory due to debts. Instead of complying he decided to lock himself in the factory on his last night and slit his own throat. They say his ghost haunted the grounds for many years afterwards – with the factory machinery starting up on their own as well as a litany of other complaints. The factory ran until 1850 before closing and was set ablaze by arsonists in 1873 – some say to rid it of it’s ghosts. But if that was the intention it did not work. If anything it just added to the frustrated energy felt here.

The Factory is little more than a bit of a foundation and a rock wall aside the stream now. Everything that is left has been taken over by the forest and it seems strange to think this was once a bustling center. I sat on a rock in the stream and enjoyed the summer day here feeling like I was in the middle of the ruins in the Jungle Book. It was calm, peaceful, and refreshing. I didn’t see any ghosts, nor feel anyone’s disembodied torment, but I don’t disbelieve the stories others tell. A place so rich in history probably does have a few spirits still lingering around.

Bonus Destination: Nearby Haunted Bridge

If you take a very quick walk down Daniel’s Pike you’ll find a bridge, under the bridge was a once popular swimming hole that claimed several lives with it’s mucky quicksand-like bottom. Just a little ways up stream Betsey Grayson drowned in 1860 after toppling into the river while fetching a bucket of water. Some attribute the ghost along the river’s edge to her, others say it’s a different drowning victim. Either way the place is eerie calm. Both the bridge and the Rams Tail Factory Ruins were super quiet when we visited. Quiet and except for the child’s mask lying on the ground – quite abandoned. It was an interesting little jaunt into yet another little corner of historic New England.

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Norman Bird Sanctuary – Middleton RI

Being as it’s the beginning of the season and I am still struggling to lose my quarantine weight we decided to find something fun but on the easier side to do. This was an old haunt of my travel companion, but he hadn’t been in years so his memory of which paths and whatnot to take was… more or less like a corrupted file in his brain.

It was an easy little place to find and used to be free but now it has a suggested donation box. If I remember right, it was $7 per adult, $3 per child, to be collected in an honor box as we went in. Nothing too bad. There were a few buildings here, a barn and what I think was an information center, but he was determined to hit the trails so we went off behind the barn and past the little picnic table where a group of young women who work there were chatting merrily. They welcomed us as we made our way to a path that wasn’t quite visible from there.

And then we started to walk. It was a sweet little place with what seemed a lot of flat hiking trails, some with wooden trellises, and plenty of trees. Despite it looking quite populous from the onset there weren’t any people here. I joked I better see some cool birds being a bird sanctuary and all. That’s when a blue jay flew down and my companion pointed, “There’s a bird!”

A blue jay? That’s not going to be what I write home about. They’re everywhere and they’re assholes to boot, frequently showing up at neighborhood bird feeders to terrorize all the other birds. I even had one stealing cat food at one point. From the cat. I guess they’re pretty if you’ve never seen one… and until you hear the godawful noise that comes from their little beaks. I snapped a photo for giggles but in typical blue jay fashion the whole thing just looked like a big old blur.

We saw a finch of some sort not long after – again my camera decided to focus on the branches instead of the bird beyond – and then we came to a little pond where we met what had to be the friendliest teenage Canadian goose I’ve ever met. He swam up to us with those big baby eyes but looking otherwise like an adult. Probably looking for treats. Sorry bub, no treats here, but you sure are a cutie and what gorgeous pics you take!

We ambled on, into the mugginess and heat, and began to take trail after trail like a deeply confused and highly caffeinated squirrel. I just went along, knowing my companion was looking for something but having no idea what that something was. Useless little facts like these often get lost on these adventures and who am I to say that isn’t part of the fun.

I was doing pretty well but since gaining an extra 30 pounds I overheat like a tiny European car trying to make it up a mountain. Sadly for me I didn’t have a gallon of cold water to combat human vapor lock. I did however have a far better prepared hiking partner who did have water and was now looking back at me huffing and puffing a bit concerned. So embarrassing. With several breaks I was able to make it with what I could have done in half an hour and without breaking a sweat a couple years ago. SIGH. Meanwhile the commotion was scaring off a number of deer at different points, and one birder. I love birders and that look their eyes all scream, “WHY ARE YOU SCARING AWAY MY BIRDS?” They’re perfect introverts, that’s what they are. We continued on, politely, and somewhat quietly.

I had no idea that what my travel companion was looking for was a trail that scrambles straight up a bunch of rocks. So, when I was absolutely tuckered out we finally found it and I pushed my sorry ass to get up there. I haven’t scrambled in a long time. I used to love it, but the rocks were out in the open and away from the shade of the trees and I was dying under the burning sun like a vampire. We took a moment to stare at “The Island’s largest property – that used to be owned by Nicholas Cage!” which was situated below. It was an old looking mansion with a big lawn that looked oddly reminiscent of a cemetery complete with the statue of a weeping woman. Weird. Did see a bird from there – a bird of prey of some sort – probably a hawk. I didn’t have my long-distance lens because I didn’t know I would be doing bird portraits today. Also, that lens weighs like thirty pounds and works best with a tripod which would have added clunky to the heavy.

We continued to scrabble and the view got increasingly pretty and increasingly terrifying as we were now traipsing like goats on a cliff’s edge that looked straight down. One little slip and we’d probably end up dead in the field below. That kept me moving. Carefully. In bellbottoms. Because that’s what all the mountain climbers are wearing these days. During this process he kept looking back at me, assuring me it was close, and asking if I was alright. We’re almost there, just keep on going…

Finally, we got to the lookout, the end of the trail. I think it was called Hanging Rock Point. Or something Hanging Rock anyway. I asked where the hanging rock was and he said we were standing on it. OKaaaaay… It was a gorgeous view. To one side was a big, beautiful wheat field, below were a few Gothic looking trees, and beyond a road wound around us. Beyond that was the ocean. Not bad! I took a shoe selfie and we chilled a bit before trying to back track and find the car – only afterwards having realized there was a map at the entrance. After this we were off to get burritos which were lovely six hours later after my heat stroke settled and the nausea dissipated enough to eat them. Got to love having a half-functional body!

I should also remark that on our way to said burrito place we passed the Hanging Rock so I pulled over into the beach parking lot to take a look and yes, yes it does indeed hang over the road. Also by the end of our little jaunt our bird sighting were thus: One blue jay, several finches, several robins, one very friendly Canada goose, one hawk, one heron, and one woodpecker.

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Gay City State Park – Hebron CT

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.

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Simmons Pond Loop – Little Compton RI

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.

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