Earlier in the day I passed a sign pointing the way to the old cemetery I visited, to the town of Dublin, and to a pond. What’s at the pond I wondered so I took another detour down another dirt road to find out. Turns out it’s a sweet little swimming hole for local residents. Since I was there off season not another soul was in sight but there appeared to a boat launching site, a sandy beach, parking for locals (very limited unmarked – for visitors?) as well as picnic tables and BBQ pits. It was very quaint and cute! I have been finding a lot of swimming holes lately. I guess it’ll come in handy someday if I ever have kids.
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Sunday evening Katherine and I chilled for a while after our adventures earlier that day and said hello to my brother and his girlfriend before eating what was left of our deep fried s’mores and attempting an early bedtime so we could get up and head into Boston, a little more than three hours away, in the morning.
I can’t say my history with Boston has been the best… I mean it’s a tough city, big, full of rude people and aggressive drivers, statistically the worst in the country, but maybe it’s not their fault. As my brother said, “Those roads aren’t meant for cars.” He’s right. Boston is filled with impossibly narrow roads and streets, many of which sport one sharp curve after another, and none of which make any logical sense. To add insult to injury half the roads are underground where the GPS no longer works and when you finally get where you’re 
going there’s no parking anywhere. And if that’s not bad enough the drivers… wow. They’re called Mass-Holes by the rest of New England. They’re real peaches. I felt like I was playing Russian Roulette at every intersection. But here too is proof of my personal growth in the past year. I only started driving myself to unfamiliar places less than a year ago and Boston was on my “uh-ah, not going to do it” list. But this time around I barely took notice, volunteered to head into the bowels of Hell without a second thought, I think shocking my brother and everyone whom I told. I used to spend my life constantly engulfed by panic and anxiety. These days I wake up and have to check my pulse because I wonder if my heart is still beating when I can’t feel it slam against my chest walls. It’s really odd but so peaceful and wonderful. Even babies don’t thwart me anymore. They used to make me super nervous but just recently I realized they’re not really made of glass. Now instead of being like, “Shit don’t get that thing near me, I may break it.” I actually find them kinda cute. Except infants. They’ll always look like raisins to me.
Back to the story… Katherine asked if we could take an adventure on the way and I said sure, why not. She chose Walden Pond because she wanted to see where Thoreau wrote 
Katherine put it. It was $15 admission and seemed to be… A swimming hole for Bostoners. There were paths around the lake, none marked very well but it didn’t much matter as there were roads and civilization everywhere. No one was going to die out here. A replica of Thoreau’s cabin stood near the visitor center where there was both information and oddly, a gift shop. We discussed how morally strange it was to have a gift shop honoring a man who was all about simplifying one’s life and cutting out materialism… Though this spirit did seem present when we found the sight of his original cabin. Here was a large pile of rocks (just like the rest of New England…) where people had made some sort of weird piled rock memorial to the man. Some used Sharpies to doodle messages and pictures on the stones they left behind.
It seems as if almost the entirety of the lake had been made into one big sandy beach. The one at the front had the shallow bits cordoned off like keeping a mass of people in a big fish net! Further out there was more nature-friendly bits, kayakers seemed to be enjoying the day on the water, and other people had found more isolated spots to swim. Katherine and I were not dressed for this, having no idea there might be swimming involved, but we decided it was a nice hot day and the water did seem rather nice. I pulled off my trusty Chuck Taylors and knee high nerd socks, rolled up my pants, and waded in. Katherine followed suit. OH! The water was so shallow it was warm and clear as the day is bright. Fish immediately came to my shockingly white calves and tried to nibble on them. These fish were weird though…. as they appeared to be a school of African Cichlids. Perhaps this lake was the “farm up North” fish disappear to when they’re no longer wanted. All I knew is these things did not look natural with their bulky silver bodies and fluorescent blue tails.
We stayed in the lake enjoying the day for quite a while, neither one of us really wanting to leave. We had found the site of the original cabin and stared at it’s sad foundation earlier on and now we were watching people stare up at the sky to witness today’s solar eclipse. A little girl near by reminded us about this and although it was slightly darker than usual neither one of us really noticed what was going on behind a large swath of fluffy clouds. Ah well, no eclipse for us, we wandered back to the car and continued on to Malden where a friend was waiting for us.
Surprisingly there was enough time after 
It was another hot day but luckily I was in a car with air conditioning, which was a nice change. We had been together now for long enough that our happy burbling had gone from the usual pleasantries to discussing in depth only the most fucked up subjects we could think of – like what we thought was normal when we were kids that really wasn’t, what left the deepest psychological scars, and what was rotting behind each white picket fence in the small towns we grew up in. It was all in good fun and I think we were both enjoying it – though I have to wonder if my company is extreme when I keep eliciting gasps of horror. Perhaps next time I will keep nail clippers in the car so that when I flip a nail inside out and get it bleeding I have something a little more appropriate to remedy the situation that a rusty set of needle nose pliers… maybe. 
Anyway, we got stuck in traffic for a bit where I got into a fight with another Prius who would not let me move over into the exit lane I actually needed… but we survived and no one was shot so it’s all good. When we drove up to the fort the tiny parking lot was almost filled to capacity with cars. People were here with their kids and dogs and we could already see a few pieces of the fort and the boat filled harbor it guarded. Unlike 
It was a small property but so lovely to wander I enjoyed snapping photos and Katherine relaxed with the smell of the ocean wafting in. We picked a couple locations to just stand and watch the waters as we talked, not really wanting to leave until it got dark. We outlasted almost everyone there and when there was only one other guy wandering about we managed to scare him off with our frank discussion of birth control. Always nice.
This entry is a little different than most. It’s not an advertisement for some great place to go it’s more just a story about getting lost in the woods and finding myself both physically, and perhaps more metaphorically as well,  through only the most ridiculous of means.
I must admit I haven’t been taking the greatest care of my health lately. Instead on days when I feel great I WAY overdo it and then crash for a week and repeat! This time around I was so accustomed to the crash I wasn’t even aware I was in a downward spiral until today when I woke up and was suddenly able to focus and move without pain. WOW. That’s different! This led to a morning filled with me bouncing around listening to oddly aggressive music and finishing painting my Droog Cockatoo sculpture.
My music these days might be a bit alarming to those of you who knew me in the past. I have somehow morphed from this terribly pleasant, quiet, shy, feminine, little house mouse to someone bouncing around swearing like a sailor, wearing garishly awful costumes on a weekday, singing loudly to increasingly aggressive and offensive music, and denying everything I was ever brought up to be – ladylike, prim, proper, well spoken. Every day I inch closer to the real me and every day I am more excited to learn it all anew. And shit, I wish someone had told me all 90’s music didn’t suck. I was always forced to listen to shitty boybands and Britney Spears by my bestie at the time. Fuck, if I knew how beautifully twisted Marilynn Manson, how deliciously sarcastic My Chemical Romance, or how delightfully dysfunctional Placebo was I think my teenage years would have been so much more interesting! So onward I go listening to a delightful clusterfuck of angry, dysfunctional, deeply sarcastic, and utterly gender fucked music.
I only mention all the above to show you what kind of kick ass, loving life, sort of mood I was in when I decided to fill my pockets with random baubles and head into the woods, a camera slung over my shoulder like someone who knew what they were doing…
There’s a big logged out clearing near the dam. I decided to go through to the back of it where there was a nice stone wall to sit on. I wanted to take a few crystal photos with the wall and the lake as its backdrop. This I did before deciding to follow the deer path that ran along the wall to the dam. I made my way to the dam just fine. I spent some time playing in the grass here, snapping photos, enjoying the sun, just relaxing and having a good time. Once I had felt well rested enough I headed back whence I came but found the path I was supposed to have taken in was…. grossly 
overgrown and lacking in any trail markers. I walked in what I believed to be the right direction sometimes where there was an obvious trail (or two, or three) and other times when I was just clomping through underbrush. I did not end up back at the trailhead. In fact I have no idea where I ended up… but I did find some ruins of some sort… some granite had clearly been quarried here, or placed here. I snapped a photo and wondered before getting back on a trail which led me into a loop three times. It was starting to get dark, I had walked way farther than I anticipated and I still couldn’t find my way to the right path. I had to start making some decisions. I decided to keep walking until I hit a road but I didn’t hit a road. I hit an intersection of two joining lakes and no more path. Fuck!
I wheeled back around, by now it was getting dimmer and darker by the step. I was practically jogging – sweating, overheating, starting to get a headache from dehydration because it was hot and I didn’t bring any water with me. I passed the same trees, mushrooms, and various other landmarks again and again before I finally came to a stone wall. The stone wall. I could get back from the stone wall! But the stone wall didn’t lead me back to the right trail, just the same bizarre loop path I kept getting on. I was frustrated. I gave up. I found the stone wall and followed it in the opposite direction of home knowing it’d lead me to the dam and from the dam I could wander through some nice people’s backyard back up to a road. I knew how to get home from there (although it was a hell of a walk.) I stopped by a roadside lake scene, snapped a few more photos, and continued walking in the heat and the sun.
To end one day’s worth of chasing waterfalls I drove up to Rumford falls just as it was starting to get a bit dark. I hadn’t realized this was also the location of another one of the things on my list of roadside attractions – a giant Paul Bunyan statue complete with Babe the big blue ox!
Sadly I showed up at the wrong time of year and the falls were completely dry… nothing really to see here except a series of weird Indian Cut-Outs?? I guess Maine hasn’t been seen by the PC police yet… but anyway! If you’re going to go see this, go in the spring when there is a flow! Unless you’re just here to take cheeky photos with Paul Bunyan…. he’s out in the parking lot and just as tacky and hilarious as he looks. Great opportunity for selfie mischief! I would say I look like a total dork with my jeans still rolled up from playing in the water but then I realized I’m hugging a big blue ox soooo…..
Screw Auger Falls was another one of the waterfalls listed on the
But with that all said and done Screw Auger Falls was an awesome little spot. Besides having two waterfalls within easy walking distance the smaller of the two allowed for a local swimming hole where children splashed about in the shallow water. Adults mostly loitered around the edges because this place was made of natural granite which had been worn very slick and smooth by the erosive nature of water and perhaps by retreating glaciers before that. On top of that algae grew over many bits which made for an intensely slick surface. None-the-less I had been driving all day and it was in the 80’s. Despite my lack of swimwear I decided to roll up my jeans, lop off my trusty Converses, and wade right in! The water was just above where I had rolled up my jeans at the deepest point across the river where I had started. It had taken me a good ten minutes to get this few feet because of the slick nature of the rocks. Children here knew how to navigate this danger as they slid around on their bellies like joyful seals. It was a sight to see! When I managed to get into this somewhat deep spot I bent down and splashed in the water letting it whoosh over my face and arms, essentially bathing in the river with my clothes still on.
The ice cold water felt almost baptismal in a way. I’ve been playing in a lot of rivers these past few months and every time it’s the same – the healing properties of the waters come from the psychological boost you get when you can almost feel all the negativity in your life just washing over your skin and tumbling down stream never to be seen again. At long last I was encouraging my true hippie nature to come out and play. How joyful I have been getting back in touch with the beauty of New England, and cranking up the radio as I go – singing along loudly and badly to Led Zeppelin, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, and all the music I had stopped listening to over the years when I never should have. The raucous screaming guitars and belted out rhythmus soothing my soul. At night I escape into another long forgotten guilty pleasure – beatnik literature, now with far more bite and meaning with my age and life experience. It’s interesting to almost reach back in time and touch another generation with such a powerful wanderlust. In addition to this seeing all these new beautiful places and meeting so many wonderful people had relit something powerful and intense in my heart – such a strong feeling of connection and wonder. In remembering who I am I learned who I need to be.
and cows. Wow, had a blast there! And came home smelling of cow, but that’s quite another story! It was an hour and forty-five minutes to get there and NH being what it is, very little of that was proper highway. This was my second time up in this direction in the past month and I had passed by a couple things I wanted to check out.
hour in direct sunlight with a bunch of cows only to shove myself back into my car which doesn’t have a working air conditioner… or transmission for that matter. I tell you, you drive a lot more carefully when you’re afraid your tranny is about to flop out on the highway! I’ve been told it’s a matter of time. SIGH. Poor Daisy. Anyway, the bridge wasn’t that spectacular but the water was wonderful! I washed my hands of all the cow dirt and grease and splashed about for a few minutes to cool down. Been doing this a lot lately. It almost feel baptismal – a completely refreshing thing to do for both body and soul.
almost two hours away from home, with no ride back should this happen until 9PM, I decided to play it safe. I drove the normal route back home but I did make a couple stops. The first was a very short detour to see the Hopkinton Dam which was… not much to see. The second was far better, it was the McCabe Forest. I had seen a sign aside the road and figured I would check it out. The beginning of the trail starts in the parking lot of an abandoned auto mechanic garage. Though I had passed by at least four times I hadn’t noticed any cars. Today was no different. I love places like these. You never know where you are going to end up or what you are going to find! So I locked Daisy up, pulled out my new used camera, and off I went into the forest with a big gulp.
play with the camera a bit. I wasn’t particularly successful – I really need to purchase a good macro lens for this sort of thing (and I’ll be absolutely honest, a macro lens would be used on mushrooms and bugs far quicker than flowers!) Eventually I tired of this and walked on. The path was poorly marked in the sense it was marked but seemed to diverge with no markings pretty frequently. I didn’t really know where I was going but as usual I took a snap at every intersection as a record of where I had come from – photographic bread crumbs should I need them.
And then I ended up near a very colorful sandy bottomed river. It was still in the 80’s and I was sweating bullets even though it was cooler under the trees. Another river seemed a godsend but this one couldn’t be reached unless I wanted to just jump in. It was a tempting thought. No one was here… I could totally skinny dip and hope for the best…. but alas I was too chicken for that. I was however suffering from heat exhaustion as well as regular exhaustion from two weeks of insomnia. After taking all sorts of photos with the new camera and old I lay down on some soft moss, listened to the soft gurgling of the water going by, and stared up into the canopy above. I felt like I could have melted into the ground right then and there and been completely happy having just become part of the forest. I may have even nodded off for a bit. When I got back up I didn’t realize how much I had needed that little break! WHEW! Starting to feel better already!
path so I continued on only to run into a sign that pointed the directions I was coming from. It read, “entrance.” Hmmm… I heeded it’s advice and went back the way I came, found Daisy still sitting there melting in the parking lot, and hopped in. It was a long hot ride and by the time I got home I was absolute toast! I fell asleep and three hours later woke up to the worst migraine I had ever had in my life. The dizziness and nausea were so intense I literally couldn’t move and my whole body felt like I had the worst flu ever. I did have the phone next to me though and literally called for help… For my efforts I received an ice pack, a swig of Sudafed (as this seemed to have started with my sinuses) and a small bowl of macaroni which took me four attempts to eat. Even with all that the day was completely worth it and when I woke up the next morning without the migraine I counted my blessings fiercely and felt once again at total peace.
