Last week it was raining so our adventures ended up being indoors at a few antique places. This first one in Clinton CT was another one of those TARDIS experiences – it looked bigger on this inside. In fact this place was HUGE with antiques shoved in every nook and corner and even hanging from the ceilings. And right away it showed its unique character as being absolutely stuffed to the gills with knives. And swords. And even firearms. Just a whole arsenal really – including a CANE SWORD. In case you want to be a Victorian James Bond.
I was not disappointed with the selection of creepy dolls but they were out staged by a large assortment of eccentric (and often woefully tacky) clocks. Wall clocks. Cuckoo clocks. Grandfather clocks. Watches. A Nixen dressed as Superman clock. Anything at all with which to tell the time which is ironic since the other thing we found there, scattered in a few random pieces throughout the store, was World War II artifacts including but not limited to a Nazi helmet and several things emblazoned in full swastikas.
“I didn’t know it was legal to sell that…”
“Legal? I don’t think it’s illegal… just not something most antique stores want to be associated with…”
And it’s true a lot of these places have these artifacts in the backroom only to be seen when specifically asked about or they refuse to carry them at all. Bad karma. It was a little emotionally distressing to see but I guess there’s a collector for everything and I am aware of at least a few Jewish collectors who go for these items (God knows why…) Let’s hope they were the buyers keeping them in business and not the skinheads we have all become way too accustomed to.
There was also a really well taxidermied blood hound just randomly mixed in with everything else. I ended up buying some marbles which were obviously created by some amateur with a homemade forge. They were “irregular” to say the least – an assortment of sizes, and none of them perfectly round. It was a bottle of wonky marbles. How could I leave them there?
*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.
After being less than satisfied with the antique store next door we decided to walk over to this boutique to see that it was all about. It’s right off the highway literally on the exit ramp. As such I flew by it but still saw enough to be intrigued. And I wasn’t the only one as there were other cars in the little parking lot.
We wandered in expecting to find antiques as we had only seen the ‘tiques part of their road sign and instead we ended up in this little clothing store. The women tending this place gave my bedraggled figure a dubious look (they always do when I enter a boutique as I’m either dressed to the hilt or more often dressed completely down with a sweat soaked T-shirt being my centerpiece which is what was going on on this particular day.)
This place was bonkers. I’m just going to say that right out. It had a delightful array of seemingly 70’s inspired garb – the most shocking of which was a hunter’s orange polyester power suit. It was chunky, hideous, and I would have totally bought it if I was an office cougar. You know… so I could go ‘hunting’ at work.
I was flush out of cash and unfortunately way too *ahem* curvaceous for a boutique otherwise I may have ended up bringing home some embroidered paisley jeans or a nice paisley button up. I just like paisleys. And peacock fashion. We should totally bring back peacock fashion… And maybe some of these seemingly disco-esque designs as well. So fun.
Outside we found out this boutique was right next to a cute little coffee shop and there were all sorts of little cafe-like areas to sit and enjoy including little gardens and a view of the highway. I found it all quite charming.
It was just one of those days that neither one of us really wanted to go home so instead we found the nearest oddly named antique store to where we were and decided to have at it. I mean at that rate why not?
And Rusty Rabbit Antiques is indeed adorably named and has a series of bunnies (including Bugs) decorating the sign at the entrance. It was right off the highway in an odd little nook intersection. I thought I’d passed it as there’s a boutique right on the off ramp a few feet up the road and all I saw was the ‘tique part of their sign. No matter I figured it out!
It was a small place and excessively cramped. We walked in and there really wasn’t enough room for the four people in the building including the clerk and three customers. There were only several rooms here, again very tight. The antiques were in good condition and displayed well despite being cramped but they seemed to be mostly standard faire. Hummel figurines, old postcards, salt and pepper shakers, and knickknacks galore. It was kind of like visiting a hoarder-y grandmother’s house.
The most unique items we found was a Wizard of Oz bulletin board art piece that some local highschooler probably made for a school project (let’s hope!) and a furry troll doll. Neither one of us could figure out why he was fluffy like a teddy bear. Is he perhaps of Mediterranean descent? Nobody knows… Oh! And a postcard of the devastation wrought by the hurricane of 1938 which just showed a massive pile of wreckage that was once someone’s home. I found that an odd subject for a postcard which are usually pleasant photos of vacation spots with the message “wish you were here” not a cry for help when your home gets demolished.
Anyway, this was a fun but quick distraction. I wouldn’t say you should go out of your way to see it but if you happen to be in the area anyway it’s not a bad place to poke around for a few minutes.
After the Umbrella Factory we decided we’d check out another lighthouse. Lighthouses are one of the things on my soft list – you know things to check out when they’re near other attractions we’re already at.
The Point Judith Lighthouse is famous for the fact it hosts the coast guard. As such it is not open to the public. Of course, we didn’t know that until we drove up because both of us are lousy at researching these things first. That being said it is right next to a park and a fishing spot. The park wasn’t much but a patch of grass with some benches but there were people here looking out over the ocean and it was pleasant enough for such a thing. There was also a good view of the lighthouse from here.
Would I suggest going out of your way to this destination? No, but if you’re in the area anyway and like lighthouse why not.
This week’s adventure brought us to Umbrella Factory which FaceBook has been suggesting for a few weeks before it was again suggested by my hiking buddy that explored the Freetown State Forest with me. I admit I didn’t know what it was… but just the fact it came so highly recommended was all I needed.
My travel companion was even more confused. He thought we were going to an actual factory that makes umbrellas. Not quite. It was another one of those quirky little places nestled in what seems to be a residential neighborhood. There were No Parking signs half a mile up the road so this place must get craaaaazy busy.
To be honest I didn’t know what to expect either as I was just given the vaguest idea of what I was going to. And when I drove in and saw a sign reading “general store” I was like oh boy, here we go again. The general store was more of a gift store. It was small, in what looked to be a repurposed house, but boy did it have the best selection of random funny things I have seen in a long while, if ever. Far from the usual Live, Laugh, Love signs this place had everything from jokey bumper stickers, to ironically named soap, to classic rock inspired Tarot cards, and the perfect assortment of gag gifts for anyone with an off sense of humor. There was even a series of angry candles with scents that included Fuck Around & Find Out and Fuck Your Abortion Law. When the candles start getting pissed maybe it’s a sign old white men should stop legislating uteruses. Just a thought.
Upstairs seemed like a totally different adventure. Here there was a whole floor dedicated to simple musical instruments like thumb pianos and thunder tubes. Beyond them was a room full of various African art. LOVED the rooster by the way. And my companion? Well, he blew through the duck caller and when it quacked he jumped so that was funny all around. And I got to play with a wooden xylophone which always makes me stupidly happy (even though I have exactly no musical talent.)
After this we went outside and out back there was a little courtyard type thing with a flower garden, a booth for a silhouette artist, a little cafe, and some free-range chickens. Oh, and a paddock of emus. Which were thumping away. I love the weird drumming noise the females make. It’s something else. Really rubs in how much of a dinosaur those birds are.
“Where are their arms?”
“…They’re birds they don’t have arms… you mean wings? They have vestigial wings. They’re only like half a foot long though.”
I forgot how much I enjoyed free range chickens. Their behavior is so different from penned ones. So much more relaxed and happy.
Out here there was also a bamboo forest. Now I have fought bamboo my entire life. Once that shit starts growing it’s nearly goddamn impossible to kill it and it spreads and uuuuugggggghhhhh. However, I’d never let my patches of bamboo grow into a forest, nor even seen a bamboo forest before. It was… really weird. Almost like climbing through grass if I were an ant. There was a little maze out here in the bamboo with a rudimentary shelter of sorts made of stacks of the stuff. I must say it was a unique experience.
Also within this veritable little village of weird house shops there were a few hippie boutiques as well as a shop for indigenous art that seemed to be run by the local tribe. That was cool. I always like to see that.
Throughout all this we found a lot of weird things but no umbrellas for sale (‘least we missed them.) It was an adventure best summarized by my companion’s comment, “I wasn’t expecting emus today.” No, because no one expects emus.
Initially I had set out to do all the registered Little Free Libraries in Newport in one day. You know, something to do while I was killing time here anyway. In each I’d leave a signed copy of one of my books and it’d be a lot of fun. However, I failed to recognize two things: the mind-boggling amount of traffic this tiny island has and 2: how very little patience I have for it. Oh, and how much excess traffic also equals no parking. This was not an adventure for a car but that’s how I went about it anyway. As such this took me three different excursions even though you could probably walk to each. Below are photos I took and some musings on every one I could find.
112 Bliss Road
112 Bliss
122 Bliss was actually really sweet. I fund it on a grey day where it was threatening to rain and somehow that just made it all the better. It is, as you can see, pained to look like a little grey house. And it was plenty loved! On this particular day it was busting with the usual pulp fiction and crime novels. I liked its lovely unique character.
384 Broadway
384 Broadway
I like 384 Boradway because of the amount of pedestrian traffic it must see. It is located in some prime real estate for people walking by. In fact this was so much the case that the first time I went to find it traffic distracted me too much to see it but that being said you’d definitely see it if you were walking in this area. It was quiet, demure, and well maintained, filled almost entirely with two shelves worth of tawdry romance and crime drama. I’m definitely noticing these seem to be the most favored genres and if I am to believe the spines on these books they are WELL loved.
45 Weaver Ave
45 Weaver
45 Weaver struck me as particularly sweet not just because of the fetching Tardis Blue box but also the fact its owners were giving away free plants at its base. Double the fun!
26 Homer Street
26 Homer Street
26 Homer Street was in a cozy little neighborhood where I found ample parking on this particular day. It was interesting more because of its contents than its looks. Here there were the usual thick and very adult romances and crime dramas but also a corner that seemed to be reserved for grade school age chapter books? It’s possible they were all left by the same person just trying to move them on… or maybe this is a thing with this location. Not sure. There was nothing on the outside of it to make me think it was intended for a child audience but who knows. It’s good to be inclusive I guess.
4 Union Street
26 Homer Street
26 Homer Street was interesting because it showed up at random rather recently. It wasn’t in my first Free Little Library searches. I decided I would be the first to check in on it in a somewhat official manner. Indeed it’s a little unusual. It appeared to be a home made box with an unusual lock to keep the door closed. Inside I found it mostly empty. A few books seemed to have been placed in here in hope… I left an author’s proof copy of Milking the Cat that I felt was a sufficiently odd choice for such an odd box.
“7” Prairie Ave
Prairie Ave
Prairie Ave took me two tries to find because it appears they may have changed the address numbers on the whole street recently. I think the address is somewhere around 20 not 7. Still. Once I slowed down to take a good look it wasn’t hard to find and there was a ton of parking on this particular day so I didn’t even have to walk. I loved this one because it’s made from a stained glass window which gives it so much class and character and the books I found within were equally as unique. This was the first time I found an old volume that I might find in a dusty attic – I think it was printed in the 1950’s. It was encyclopedia of great composers and their music. Aside it was next to a copy of Romeo and Juliet, the Crucible, the first anime I’ve ever seen in a little library (Fullmetal Alchemist volume 6) a hardcover copy of 50 Jobs Worse Than Yours, and something titled The End of Nature. Bizarre. Truely the weirdest collection yet.
BONUS LIBRARIES:
I was unable to locate the Free Little Library at the community center on 20 Dr Marcus F Wheatland Blvd. This may be because it was inside the center and I… was not comfortable enough as an out-of-stater to check out. I also passed by a Little Library in a neighborhood near the beaches at one point but where I was I couldn’t tell you. And finally there’s one rumored to be on Spring Street which… if I had any reason to walk the length of Spring Street I’d totally check out otherwise I’d rather not slowly drive down this preposterously long one-way street pissing off traffic as I peer to either side of the street looking. Oh and fuck trying to find parking there. Nooooope. Gonna pass on that one!
I admit that conventions are not part of my world. And a horror convention seems even more out there but I like being a wild card and having someone share their special interests with me which is how I ended up here. And as an added bonus I LOVE weird people and this seemed like it might have a whole den of them.
Really my usual companion wanted to see the live radio show. He’s super into them. So on Saturday after he got off work we drove directly the convention. It would leave us plenty of time to catch the radio show. I was excited to see it too but I had to take a few days to prepare for it as I am not one for crowds. Or city life. Or people really. Got off to a bit of a bad start when we spent a TON of time in traffic which was acting insane. Usually, I can deal with this just fine but on that particular evening it put me on edge.
We parked at the mall as it was cheaper but that did mean we’d have to walk through the mall on a weekend evening and holy crap was it swarmed. I’d have trouble with this even before Covid. I carried on and did the best I could but then I had to ride an elevator, walk through one of those weird human hamster tunnels over the street, and ride several escalators – the last of which was ungodly narrow, steep, and claustrophobic. Escalators had been my nemesis since childhood and everything was setting off my sensory overload tonight.
Eventually we found a big room full of vendors with a $5 per person admittance fee. We forked it over and looked around. There was all kinds of weird betenticled art everywhere. Paintings, prints, giant plushies. It was an odd rabbit hole to fall down but a fun one. Still, this was not what we were looking for. We asked where the general admittance was and was told we’d have to walk over the Biltmore down the street which we did.
The Biltmore itself is supposed to be haunted. In fact it has such a reputation it was on my list of places to poke at even before this convention but tonight wasn’t the best night to be doing so. I walked in and there’s all sorts of absolutely garish 1920’s art nouveau architecture and design which when done well can be stunning but this place? I dunno, it just seemed so tacky to me. And disorienting. I can’t even describe how I was feeling at that point but it was almost like I was wearing those shitty drunk goggles they give children to make them not want to drink. Just everything seemed somehow off. It was a weird energy for sure – whether I can blame this on the place being haunted or just my own sensory overload I don’t know but that’s where I was at that moment.
We found the people at the take in register for the convention but they said they’d already packed up hours earlier and were no longer selling tickets or making allowances to see the radio theater. My companion was deflated. I was too. I had struggled mightily for this one and now it was a no-go. I asked if the radio theater would be there tomorrow and yes, it was a different show, but they would be there performing something. We decided to come back the next day. Let me tell you I was happy to be home after that.
Sunday came around and we headed out fairly early so we could see at least some of the short film festival at the library before the radio show. We got out on time and were able to buy tickets and even better I was feeling much less over stimulated!
We walked to the library but we were a bit early. There was a sign on the door saying it was closed on Sundays except for the convention and then in small letters that it’d be open at 12:05. it wasn’t 12:05 yet so we stood politely at the door with another man who claimed to have “just rolled down the hill” to get there. A librarian popped out and happily burbled, “Thank you for reading the sign! Everyone else has just tried to come right in!” She then highlighted the part about opening up at 12:05 before replacing it on the door. By now several more people had gathered and were now chatting about how far they travelled and then all about cats. This would be an ongoing theme on just about everyone I eavesdropped on. Who attends horror conventions you might wonder… Cat people. That’s who. I mean yeah there are those decked to the hilt in Goth gear, the heavily tattooed, those who look like they’re suffering existential dread, the odd rat enthusiast, some queer rebels, a large swath of neurodivergent peoples annnnnd amateur mycologists otherwise known as mushroom lovers. That last one caught me a bit off guard.
Finally we were allowed in and made our way to the theater – an actual tiny theater, in a library. This was new for me. And it was cute! And cozy! And Old Timey looking. And to their credit the first film they showed was suitably distressing. It was about keeping a living consciousness in a computer which is always a little unnerving but they seemed to make it over the top uncomfortable. Maybe that’s a good thing, I don’t know.
From there the films ranged from familiar old tropes, to psychological horror, to comedy horror. I was having a good time with it. And it was interesting to see just what people were doing to make these little films which had to be a shoe string budget but most you couldn’t tell. Afterwards one of the film’s creators came up to do a Q & A and my companion got into it by asking a question. I was happy to see him involved even if I myself would rather die than ask a question in a public forum. That’s just me and that’s OK.
We stuck around for block two which started with a claymation short which obviously tickled my own special interests. And there was one some time afterwards that was really low budget – just one dude sitting in front of a green screen playing with a plush bat, that actually was still amazing somehow?? And hilarious! I don’t know, I was impressed. Actually most, if not all, of the shorts kept my interest for the most part. There was a couple I was hazy on but I guess that’s just part of the experience. It was hard picking a favorite.
We decided to skip the last block of short films and instead go to grab a bite to eat before listening to a dramatic story reading before attending the radio show. So off we went. I’d read over the program schedule for fun and I was amused with a lot of the offerings. Cthulhu prayer breakfast, a lecture on missing persons, and weirdly enough a group therapy session. I guess in acknowledgment of the fact if you were here you might be the sort to benefit from a little group therapy sesh. Actually, a lot of the lectures looked super intriguing, but they were from the previous few days. They were the sort of things I could plunk myself on a seat and just spend a day listening to random lectures. Yeah, OK, maybe the crazy ticket price was worth it. There was a lot going on.
Making our way out of there I met a woman on the street who had the same cutesy baby Cthulhu T-shirt and we laughed. She asked if I’d seen the Craft-thulu T-shirt and I said I had it. It was just a weird, sweet moment – two oddballs recognizing each other’s oddness.
We ate at the mall and I picked up one of my books from the car which I’d leave on a bench in the park to be found. Part of my book bombing/book crossing campaign. The dramatic story telling was actually The Willows by Algernon Blackwood read by Robert Lloyd Perry and let me tell you – it was indeed dramatic! I was expecting a nice little relaxing story time, just sit in quiet and listen to someone read to me like I’m a child. No, not quite. It did start off nice and soft but the deeper into the story we got the more impassioned and loud our narrator and the music behind him became. This in combination with the fact they dimmed the lights set my brain off. I basically forgot where I was, immersed completely in the story, seeing it in vivid detail in place of the very real surroundings around me. I started to fidget and scratch at my skin just to keep myself grounded in reality. My companion too really enjoyed this piece. Curiously so too did a young woman wearing noise reducing headphones. She hadn’t been the only one wearing some sort of deadening device. Even I was tempted to put in ear plugs as a lot of these events were getting a bit loud for me. I wondered if these people were also somewhere on the spectrum enjoying a day out the best they could. So far the diversity of each crowd was keeping me quite happy.
And when it was all over we were in the right place to just stay for what we came for – a performance of Curse of the Yig performed by the Dark Adventure Radio Theater. I should probably note that going into this I have not been a huge fan of any kind of radio. Yes, I listened to War of the Worlds and got a good giggle in my youth but that is where my interest in this activity ended until I met my companion who has on numerous occasions shared his love of these performances by playing them in the car on our many trips. And it’s been pleasant but I still didn’t fully comprehend why seeing it live would be any better. It’s radio after all.
It started with a lot of fussing over the projector and an apology to the audience that the cast they had painfully ensured was diverse for this adaption of an H P Lovecraft story was down to a skeleton crew and just looked like a buncha white people again. It might seem like a strange thing to say but H P Lovecraft unfortunately was even a hardcore racist for his day and although there are lots of people who love his wild and whimsical style of writing there’s a lot less of us who agree with his politics. But white supremacists being who they are probably would find a good ‘hero’ in Lovecraft which is why the rest of us decent folk have to try so very hard to take the good and leave all the bad. It’s a noble effort.
Anyway, the radio drama started with just four people voicing all the parts (including the dog who barked intermittently at various scenes.) Every once in a while the projector would show something to the audience asking them to make a noise for the background. Oh, so it’s audience participation that’s different, I see. Granted all the noises were the same…. wind, the rattle of a rattlesnake, hissing… these are all the same noise. None the matter I found it adorable and quite fun. By the end I got it. It was worth coming to see live. Even better they gave the hardcore fans a ‘clue’ with which to decipher a code. My companion of course got up and asked for a code card at the end and brought it home to happily solve it. Again, it was nice to see this sort of involvement.
It was getting late when we left and my companion was concerned I’d had enough activity for one day but he did mention there was one last film showing 4 miles away at a theater. I said it’s OK, we can go check it out, and so we did. And the parking gods must have been smiling on me because there was a parking spot right near the theater that was next to an intersecting street meaning all I had to do was drive into it without properly parallel parking which I STILL have not learned how to do. No matter!
That’s how we ended up at the Dunwich Horror Picture Show. We knew this was a screening of the 1970 movie The Dunwich Horror, which is a terrible movie, but we didn’t really understand the Picture Show part of that. Rocky Horror mashup? Hard to say.
I did what I always do… looked around the audience. And that’s where I found them – a group that had been remarkably absent most of the day despite my theories they should have been everywhere – the gay men. Oh sure, I’d seen a couple adorable lesbian couples here and there but this seemed to be the hub where all the men were. Scores of them. Which made little sense to me as the Dunwich Horror is CLEARLY a film about one straight white dude’s rape fantasies (which is very in step with horror from the 70’s.) If you’re wondering why I thought such a large portion of the queer community would be at this convention it’s because I grew up in the 80’s and 90;s when every villain was still queer coded and although that was supposed to be a bad thing I also knew this backfired and many still LOVE queer coded villains. Honestly, how can you not? They’re fucking hilarious. Also so much of the crowd today seemed neurodivergent and again there’s a disproportionally large cross section of people who are both queer and neurodivergent. I was just happy my amateur psychology worked. I was comfortable here now the world made sense again. Also the theater was dark so it was kinda perfect for my nerves.
So, what was it about the Dunwich Horror that was so great? Well, it had a live band playing the soundtrack and an announcement at the beginning saying, “We know this film is terrible. Feel free to heckle it. Just make your comments funny.” And the audience complied! But that wasn’t even the best part. The best part was the wildly gesticulating people in Cthulhu costumes who’d come from the sides of the theater to do a crazed interpretive dance to distract you whenever the dream sequences got too rapey. How cool would that be just to have that on standby whenever something triggering comes up? Like no, you don’t want to look over at something potentially distressing, look over here AT THE DANCING TENTICLE MONSTER! WOOOOO!
It was all a very happy and positive experience. My companion even got to take a break to enjoy remembering some other happy memories at this theater. While doing so he tried to thank me for coming with him today to enjoy the weird things in life and I…. would have replied it was no problem if I wasn’t distracted by the John Waters Christmas poster. Now that’s a whole other brand of weird (and I’m all for it!)
All and all I am super happy we did the Dunwich Horror as it was the perfect way to end the evening and I thoroughly enjoyed it. Maybe a little too much if I’m honest. So, was it worth going into the city, a place I normally avoid? Oh yes, absolutely. And it looks like someone picked up my book that I left sooo… there’s always that.
It’s funny, when you travel around like I do trying to hit different places every time you leave the house it pretty much ensures that someday you’ll forget where you have been and end up there again during one of those hazy deja vu moments I have become so familiar with. That was the case with the Freetown Fall River Forest. It had long been a source of fascination considering it is supposed to be the epicenter of all the weird happenings in the Bridgewater Triangle. I mean there are stories about this forest that include fairy lights, full ghostly apparitions, murders, UFO’s, bigfoot, a liberal dose of satanic panic and even the delightfully strange assortment of pukwugies – which are little anthropomorphic porcupine type creatures that shoot poisoned darts and lure people into the woods never to be seen again. They are from indigenous traditions in the area and as such are unique little cryptids.
I had a feeling I’d been here before but there wasn’t a Catching Marbles entry on it. Weird. Still, I suggested it as a place to go check out with a new travel companion who was here to meet me for a signed copy of my book. Sounded good to me so off I went…
Driving into the parking lot I remembered this place clearly. I had visited the previous autumn. We spent a few hours wandering the woods with a nonsensical trail map that neither one of us could make sense of, got lost, and eventually made our way back to the car. HMMMM. Perhaps this time would go better.
This time the park actually had quite a few other cars in it and I realized the weird parking lot actually went around corners and expanded a lot farther than I had thought. Even more interesting was a splash pad that was running with delighted children zooming through it. Still I parked near the entrance and after meeting with my hiking buddy we set off in the same direction I’d gone once before to what I now know is Bent Rim Trail. Mind you Bent Rim Trail is more of a road than a trail – no cars were allowed but we did see some cyclists.
We walked on Bent Rim Trail for awhile until we hit what looked like an actual non-road trail and we decided to try that one. There was no signs or markers but clearly this was a trail. I’d come hoping to find something weird, my friend had come hoping to find some cool plants to satiate her own special interests in biology. We were up for a brisk hike in the heat but luckily it wasn’t too bad beneath all these trees and the path was flat and easy to navigate. A few parts had rocky bits to scramble around but even that wasn’t bad. Unless you’re on a bike. Sadly, there wasn’t much in the way of plant diversity. It just seemed to be miles and miles of blueberry bushes. Although even that was kind of cool as many had blueberries on them.
Other than that the trail was pretty much a lot of the same. It was however very quiet and despite the parking lot being full of cars we didn’t hear any other people and didn’t see any either on the trip out. We continued down the path crossed the road trail twice before eventually hitting an actual road. The park is on 55,000 acres soooo how we managed to walk out of the park I don’t know. Getting back would be a challenge as we tried to get our phones to give us any clue whatsoever as to which direction we should take back. I was starting to see why this place had such a reputation for being a great hiding spot for bodies and ghost stories. Getting lost here is hideously easy and there is an odd sense you’re the only ones out here even if that’s not really true.
I have seen photos of this park that show water features and cool things. I don’t know where those are, only that we didn’t pass any. All we passed were several people walking dogs and a family taking a bike ride together who I sheepishly asked for directions from. We’d hoofed it at least four miles by that point and it was starting to get a bit dark so it was best to find the car soon. Luckily they told us vaguely where we were and how to get back. There were grid markers here and there reading numbers and letters… which would have been helpful IF THEY WERE ON ANY MAPS. Alas no.
We did end up back in the parking lot, somehow at the far side, where there was a random statue greeting people shirtless and proud. Bit weird choice but OK. Annoyingly we also found the trail maps on a bulletin board nearby which I had missed coming in, although I don’t think they would have helped much. In the meanwhile we both had a great time happily burbling about anything and everything under the sun and getting our exercise in! All and all a lovely time, even if it was super confusing and looked all the same. I can’t say I saw any bigfoot, ghosts, or UFOs but maybe you have to come at night for that?
The other day I passed the Fish Hatchery Lands and made a note to come back some morning when it wasn’t 90F [32C]. And today was that day. Granted I had a hard time re-finding it because I thought it was near the Fish Hatchery. It’s not. It’s across from 554 North River Road. Now that I have made that easy for you here’s what it was like:
It had initially caught my attention because the parking lot is HUGE and there was a bulletin board at the end of it that looked like the same thing you’d see on a hiking trail as well as a sign across the road that denoted a hiking trail although oddly there was no name other than Fish Hatchery Lands. I parked next to a huge pile of garbage that was nestled under a sign reading, “no dumping.” Clearly this place was forgotten enough to be used as a trash pile but not forgotten enough to be abandoned. Or as I like to see it – a possible hidden gem.
The billboard had a plaque stating this place was set up in 1992 and honestly it looked like everything had been left just as it was then. A trail map hung lethargically; its trails having been completely bleached out by the sun. I didn’t know what we were walking into…
Once you get past the bulletin board there’s a big field to either side and what looks like a path big enough for cars to go down so we started walking. We ended up passing two little brown outbuildings as we made our way into the woods. Here we were greeted rather strangely by a little basket full of rocks sitting on a concrete column. We were inspecting this when an angry crow flew up to a nearby tree and screamed at the top of it’s lungs. It also had a very large snake (or something snake-like) it it’s beak. Now I know what you’re thinking – this is the beginning of a horror movie and we should have left before the serial killer got to us – but I was not about to be scared off by an irate bird. No siree.
Here it looked like there were three paths – one to the right, one to the left, and one straight ahead, although all of them looked ROUGH. They weren’t marked and were badly overgrown and we weren’t even sure if they were human paths or game trails. I decided to go right and see what was out there. The path was rocky but not in the way trails around here usually are. The rocks were all smooth and seemed out of place. The drought this year must be hitting hard because not only did it dry up nearby Purgatory Falls it also left this riverbed dry. That’s right, we weren’t even on a path at all but a dry riverbed which explained the concrete columns. They must have made a makeshift bridge to get over what used to be water.
I took a few snaps and we returned to the columns and readjusted our travel plans to go straight. This path was almost not a path at all. We even had to climb over a dead tree and then maybe 250 feet in we reached a dead end at the riverbank. I imagine when the river is high this was probably a sweet fishing spot or maybe swimming hole (depending on current of course!) But as it was now it was just a nice view to reflect for a moment before going back.
From here we noticed another woman with her dog was going behind the little building. Was there a path there? Did she know something we didn’t? We decided to check it out. Sadly, this seemed to greatly annoy her because the dog went ape-shit and wanted nothing to do with the walk anymore, just wanted to see us as we trailed quietly behind. Out here there was indeed tiny loop trail, maybe a quarter of a mile if that that wound close to the river and gave one lovely scenic view before looping back. Still, that was… not much…. certainly not enough for that huge parking lot.
To add more mystery when we left we met a nice young couple pushing a baby in a pram heading towards the “trails.” Where were they going?? Nothing we just explored was pram friendly. If anything the vast overgrowth of plants was probably a great way to roll your baby in ticks like nuts on a soft serve ice cream cone. (OK OK, I should be fair, although this place was GROSSLY overgrown I did not pick up any ticks but boy did it look like there should have been a swarm of them!)
As we found our way to the parking lot we noticed there were suddenly 5 other cars here. WHERE WERE THE PEOPLE?! I have no answers. I think this place may have been on the outer edges of the Twilight Zone (I mean there was a cornfield right there…)
