I know I have gotten a late start in my traveling this year, suffice to say my body has not been happy with me lately so it’s made my little adventures quite difficult but I desperately needed the tranquility of the woods so today I went for a drive and meandered around until I found a trail head at the – Casalis State Marsh in Peterborough NH. As usual I have never heard of it and had to drive by it four times before I actually managed to get my car in the parking lot! The driveway was pretty damn hidden by foliage and there was quick traffic always behind me… but I made it!
I slung my camera over my shoulder, packed the extra lens in my new kick ass hip bag, and headed in. It seemed to be an old access road or maybe even a current one. The first part of the trail was beautiful but typical – just a lot of trees. Still I cannot tell you how good it felt to be out there again! I found a little garter snake sunbathing on the path and stopped to take some macro photos. It was 73 degrees out today, plenty warm enough, but he was in no hurry to get away from me, in fact besides a curious flick of the tongue he allowed me to get super close with my camera and take a few really lovely snaps.
And from there I came upon a small marsh with one bird house seemingly inhabited by a red winged blackbird. Despite being a marsh there weren’t too many bugs about and I was at complete peace here as I took photos of dead trees, dark waters, and the reflections of clouds on gently rippling water. No one else was on the trail today and I was thoroughly enjoying the solitude. When I finally picked up and continued on the trail I wasn’t sure where I’d end up or how far I’d go. I’d already passed one fork in the trail shortly after the marsh (I went straight and ignored a left turn.) Before long the trail was bisected by a gorgeous gurgling river. Another path ran upstream. Should I wade in and cross the river? It looked as if the water would be a little above my knees and I knew river rocks have a tendency to be insanely slick. Decisions. I usually don’t take any turns but I decided the photography would be stunning just following the river upstream so that’s what I did but not before playing in for a while!
Since I forgot to bring my marbles I instead took a couple shoe pictures on the banks before stripping them off and wading in barefooted. The water was cold and so refreshing. I splashed my legs and arms and muttered my usual prayer, “Please wash all negativity away from me and bring towards me only positivity.” Going on walks into the woods is a sacred ritual for me especially when I come to a river – it’s sort of like going to church. Maybe this is why I forsook my socks and shoes and when I left the river’s banks I continued to hike barefooted. Feeling the often muddy and mossy earth underneath my feet felt so right, so calming, and I once again was utterly connected to this place and moment in time. I was transfixed which is probably why I didn’t notice two joggers coming off another trail. They seemed alarmed to find me. Their black lab bounded in the water, an older German man made a precarious crossing over the river from stone to stone, and a younger American man tried desperately not to make eye contact with me which just wasn’t going to be possible when we were both heading the same direction! He was panting, trying to catch his breath, and I was refraining from making a joke about running away from bears. Instead I just said a cheerful, “Hello!” and went on my merry way. The German was far more entertained by me, he said hello back, smiling. I know, I must have been quite a sight, my hair now completely orange wearing psychedelic orange bellbottoms most people would not chose for hiking, a hip bag, and bare feet dragging my shoes at my side. I realize I must have looked ridiculous, possibly insane. I laughed. The two jogged ahead of me and I didn’t see them again. It was a wonderful little stroll back to the car. Today’s outing has made me feel whole once again.
Today I was supposed to go out to lunch with a friend and meet a different friend at the Apple Pie Fair in Dummerston Vermont, however things didn’t go as planned. My lunch friend got sick and couldn’t go and my apple pie buddy ended up double booked. None-the-less I decided I needed to get out anyway so I asked my mom if she wanted a day out and off we went!
Yesterday I spent the day helping my mother sell soap at a local craft fair and it must have drained my energy more than I thought because today I could NOT get going! So it was 2:30 before we go there… The listing online said it ended at 4:20PM, which is obviously a joke for the herbally inclined… so I thought maybe it ended at 5? I was hoping anyway. I found parking in a field down the street. There was no charge. We walked past a big house that was taking the opportunity to host a multi-family yard sale since so many pedestrians were walking by… The people there were super sweet and talkative! We moseyed on towards the church. SO MANY PIES – sold whole in front of the church or by slice down aside the church. There was also apple cider and apple cider doughnuts. I grabbed a doughnut to snack on as I walked. Apple cider doughnuts are the best doughnuts you can get, absolutely delicious, and perfect to nibble on as you walk across the street to a craft fair in another church. Sadly we got there just as everyone was packing up. Guess it ended at 3. SO MANY ADORABLE VERMONT CRAFTY THINGS! Wish I got there sooner! There was the usual knitting, crochet, quilting, home-made ties, and then just an assortment of odd things… like these adorable troll like creature sculpted by a pair who call themselves The Widow and the Spinster (nancyb63@svcable.net and bunny@svcable.net). If I’m honest I probably would have taken one home if I had anywhere to put it. My life isn’t that… organized… yet. Across the way 
A few days ago a friend invited me to meet him at the Deerfield Fair. I said sure, I could use a day out, and we planned to meet each other at noon. Sounds good! Until I almost got to the exit into Deerfield, there were cars lined up for a mile in the break down lane. Oh shit… So I swung aside with them and twenty minutes later I found myself in Deerfield but just barely. I was five and a half miles from the destination and it was complete gridlock. Since I was at a standstill anyway I texted my friend who then called me and decided to come pick me up at the used car place I happened to be slinking by. I didn’t know why…. but I guess he and his friend were out on their motorcycles earlier and they wanted to come pick me up, drop off the cycles and my car at this other guy’s house and wander to the fair together as a group…. This is highly unusual for me. I don’t do vehicle hopping and I’m a shit passenger besides but seeing the traffic it just made sense to go as a group and use only one parking space.
My friend’s friend was an older guy who had clearly spent all of his youth living hard and hoping to die young. I hate seeing people like that old… their bodies completely spent, creaking at every joint, seemingly miserable at their lack of mobility… SIGH. But still! What he couldn’t do walking he sure made up for in driving. Ever wonder what it’s like to drive with Hunter S Thompson? AHHHHH HOLY ASS CRACKERS CHRIST! SLOW DOWN! A DEAD MAN’S CURVE! OH MY FUCKING GOD ANOTHER ONE! I imagine it would be a little like that. Also I want to take this moment to apologize to any passengers who may have been in my car while I was driving in a similarly terrifying manner. Know that I love each and every one of you and it’s out of my system now. Sorry.
To make a long story short we turned around and drove to Portsmouth, probably another 45 minutes or hour away, where I took a few lovely snaps of sea gulls and learned that lobsters have compound eyes. Ah, the things you learn when your food is staring at you! But really, we got some sort of sale and it was 4 lobsters for $32. They also got a combo plate to share between us filled with fried marine miscellany. I think there were steamers, scallops, and fries. And you know what I also learned? That fresh seafood, no matter the shape, all tastes the same when it’s fresh – like nothing. It’s really a texture thing or perhaps a “I need an excuse to eat tartar sauce” thing. Either way I am not complaining! And I was STUFFED TO THE GILLS. This place was really nice as it had a porch outside right on the ocean you could watch or feed the sea gulls from. It was quite relaxing! And here’s a few snaps of boats and seas shore when we parked down the street to check out their beach.
I tried to be good today and plan where I was going – but the Fates had other ideas. I was going to go conquer an old foe – Mount Monadnock. I even picked a trail, the Dublin Trailhead, but try as I may to find an address I just couldn’t get anything more specific than “Old Troy Road.” So off I went! I found Old Troy Road just fine but the farther I ambled down it the more signs popped up reading, “Private Way!” In previous travels I learned this usually means somewhere at the end is a pissed off dude with a shot gun. This is ‘Murica after all. So I turned around and decided to just drive around until I hit something else of use…. sort of like using the Prius as a dowsing rod for good hiking trails. It worked!
Somehow I found myself driving by Swamp Road, an old dirt road I never noticed before. A big sign read it was closed for winter and if there’s anything better than a dirt road to explore it’s one that’s so ill-used it’s closed for winter. Plus I have a fondness for swamps. I flicked on my directional and started to crawl into the woods at the usual 15 miles an hour, if that. There wasn’t a house anywhere in sight but there were a lot of trees! And then right after crossing a little bridge I noticed something odd. it was either a very long driveway or an unmarked trail. Turns out it was a trail that entered the Sharon Bog area. I parked, grabbed my camera, and headed in! Emboldened by a sign I found requesting no dirt bikes or off road vehicles.
The trail was pretty wide at most points and pretty obvious it was a trail but it wasn’t marked, or named, or even frequented, as far as I could tell. It was SO QUIET out there, not a soul in sight for miles, the perfect little escape for even the most ardent of introverts. I could hear a great horned owl in the distance asking, “Who cooks for you? Who cooks for you?” And I was super happy to find a little salamander just living his little salamander life on the trail. He was pretty grumpy with me, didn’t want to turn his adorable little face towards the camera but I made due.
Eventually this path went into a field and I had to cross it halfway to see if it continued and from there I passed a number of different forks, again, completely unmarked. This was an adventure after all, though not one for people who need the reassurance of markers. I made it pretty far into the woods on that path before I was stopped, by a HUGE German Shorthaired Pointer. I stayed still. I knew that breed is known to be neurotic. It barked and barked, and backed off, and then came back to bark at me. Eventually it gained the courage to come sniff me. I stood still as I could and it seemed to go from a bit fearful to very playful, this time trying to run off with my macro lens. His owner and a MUCH older canine companion loitered behind. I had a brief chat with his owner, who said he was a dog of impeccably high energy that needed to be allowed to run like this EVERY day or he’d be too insane to handle. Made sense. Pointers aren’t pets. They’re working dogs… but in any event she was doing a great job with him (she even said she’d continued to walk him in the winter with a pair of snow shoes!) That’s hardcore, especially for a woman who looked like she was of retirement age. I bid her adieu and continued on. That’s when I came to a very obvious Y in the path. Did I keep going straight or should I turn? the turn looked more interesting but was also riskier being unmarked… plus I’d already been walking for at least a mile, maybe even two. I went straight and not long after that found myself at the end of a dirt road staring at two houses. HMMMM. I didn’t know where I was… so I turned around and went back to the car.
Eventually I’d meet up again with the dogs and their owner. This time since the dog recognized me he zipped around running full speed around me for maybe thirty laps. It was impressive! Besides this I didn’t see or hear any one else the entire time. And then when I got back to the car I decided to keep going and explore the rest of Swamp Road. I am glad I did! Because not far up ahead there was a GORGEOUS turn off where you could stand on the rocks and watch whooshing white water crash by you. I could feel the cool coming off the water and feel the noise engulf my being. I LOVE rivers! I took a few snaps before returning to the car feeling super happy about today’s little outing.
I was only going to stay in Maine for three days, really, but then my mother’s ride to the family reunion couldn’t get the day off so I ended up staying up here for two weeks, and then there was a death in family so I had to stay for the funeral, so another week passed, and then…. it was only a few days away from when a Viking ship was supposed to come into port, and you can’t expect me to pass up a Viking ship… So here I am!
We got out late this morning, my mother came with me, and drove the two or so hours to the coast. I wasn’t 100% certain where I was going because my GPS refused to recognize “Rockland Public Landing.” So I guess I can add public docks and piers to the many places which do not have an address to put in the GPS. I figured it couldn’t be that difficult, just go to Rockland and drive along the seaside until I find a Viking ship…. I’d pulled off similar stunts in the past. I was told there was a big jetty you could walk out onto that had a lighthouse at the end. That seemed hard to miss…. so where was it again?
I pulled in what looked like some sort of dock or pier, and it was, and it was public, but it wasn’t the right one. But I thought I could see what looked like a Viking ship in the distance, near a lighthouse…. so I asked the GPS where I could find a lighthouse and it brought me to Owl’s Head Lighthouse…. three and a half miles from the first unnamed pier and out in some residential part of town. It seemed to have its own park, a little swimming area, and you could crawl into the lighthouse for a suggested donation of $3. By this time I was so overstimulated from trying to find the place I totally skipped on taking a photo of the actual lighthouse…. so for this one time only I have taken an image from Google. SORRY.
The lighthouse was tiny, enough to fit ten or so people in at a time. There was an old man at the door letting people in who asked us to sign the guestbook and leave a donation and I smiled and said I would. He seemed to be getting a kick out of me, I think it was my fading but still bright orange hair. I crawled up to the top with no problem and saw the big rotating light bulb. Apparently it’s getting ready to be retired. Pity! I looked out over the harbor… no viking ship in sight. Hmmm. My bid to get a better look from a high vantage point was doing me no favors. I asked the attendant about it. She had no idea but someone else who went into the lighthouse with us did. “OH! We JUST got in at the 10AM showing! It’s PACKED! It’s at the Harbor Park, you know where the Pearl Restaurant is…. but we parked at the Y!” “GREAT, THANK YOU!” I smiled again. See, sometimes unscheduled detours have their reasons, what was the chances of getting directions anywhere else??
So back I went up that same three mile stretch of “main street.” For anyone looking for the Rockland Public Landing let me help you out. Just type in The Pearl Restaurant. It sits in the parking lot. You could also type in the Rockland Yacht Club which is also right there. I drove in the parking lot and it was PACKED, a huge queue formed off the Yacht Club and just beyond it…. A VIKING BOAT! The next twenty minutes was me trying to find parking somewhere nearby and the twenty minutes after that was my phone being an ass and taking me a preposterously unnecessary long-cut to the boat. But there it was, the 
It seems people from all over were checking out this ship. She was stopped in Rockport Maine for a few days but she’s on a tour down the East Coast from there stopping in Massachusetts and Rhode Island before going farther south. When we boarded we were shuffled in like sardines and listened to one of three speakers tell us about the bow. It was ornately carved. Ropes were draped everywhere from where they had to hoist the sails. They spoke about the wood used to make the mast, apparently at one point it snapped in half and they realized they had used the wrong kind of tree…. a replacement Douglas Fir stood in the old one’s place.
After this we were filtered to the next part of the ship to listen to the next speaker who told us all how dangerous it was to hoist the masses. I took photos of rope like I’d never seen it before (and perhaps I hadn’t.) The boat began to churn a bit as the water became the tiniest bit rough. I got a bit queasy. I really wanted to come out here today but truth be told I’m literally phobic of the ocean and being on it. The only reason I was standing here was because I knew it was moored to the dock! If it were sailing somewhere I’d be tweaking… Mum got a bit dizzy from the gentle back and forth. A footprint carved into the floor was pointed out. It was a replica of a footprint they found carved out of an actual Viking ship but no one could say why it was there…. lucky omen? Sign of the Gods? Sign of boredom? Who knows! I took more photos but it was pretty dang crowded.
At the other end of the ship we learned all about life on it. Apparently if they were doing this Old School there would be around 100 oarsmen chugging along when the wind wasn’t going. The oars were not in place today, probably to allow people to squeeze through. I was horrified and amazed to learn there were no sleeping quarters below deck. As it turns out Vikings specialized in somewhat quick voyages, lasting 30-90 days, where they would sleep on deck in seal skin sleeping bags which fit two crewmen each. I admired more little artistic embellishments and my jaw probably hit the floor again when they said this ship could creep up rivers in as little as five feet of water when need be. And then it was off the ship I went, snapping more photos and taking a small stroll onto the pier. I wanted to walk out to the lighthouse which I suspected was at the end of it buuuut by now it was getting SUPER muggy and I was drenched in sweat and we kinda just wanted to go home. I’d even forgotten about my desire for a lobster roll. Oh well! It was an awesome day! And I am certain I will be back…
And finally, after a good night sleep I can tell you about the third place I visited in Deer Isle – the Turtle Gallery. Again, it just happened to be en route so I decided to stop in and see what it was about. I had noticed this little coastal village seems to have a lot of galleries and I am already planning a visit just to do a tour of them! But in any case the Turtle Gallery is the one which I ended up at randomly after enjoying the 
The Turtle Gallery was a swank little place, that’s for sure! The main gallery, as you entered, boasted a series of large colorful paintings depicting life in coastal Maine, as well as some intensely detailed very large charcoal sketches. Prices seemed to mostly stay within the $800-2000 range from what I could see. A door leading outside had a sculpture garden and when I went to check it out I found another “pop-up gallery” in a shed out there which had more folky art, mostly small sculptures.
I thought that was it but found myself wandering around the front where still more sculptures were being displayed, some metal sculptures were in brilliant colors and their shapes, texture, and color, really caught my eye. A private residence was sandwiched in between the main gallery, the outdoor sculpture garden, and the paper and glass gallery in the house at the far side. Here paintings on paper adorned the walls and a series of fantastically beautiful goblets for $800+ a piece glinted in the sun coming in from the window.
This was a peaceful and relaxed gallery displaying some really fine talent. I was happy we stopped by. I doubt I will ever be able to afford art from such a place but being around it calms my creative nerves. I must visit more galleries…
This was possibly the most bizarre destination I have ever ended up at. It’d been suggested by several people, and of course the Internet, but no one had much to say about it, just that I needed to go. On this particular occasion I ended up with quite a carload, my mother, a cousin, and my great-aunt. We had five hours to waste so I suggested we go to 
First off let me tell you the area it’s in is picturesque Maine seaside, absolutely beautiful, and there’s so many things to get happily distracted by including a series of high end galleries. Then there’s Nellie’s which… is so far from that scene it might as well be its own planet. When I drove in my mother didn’t want to get out of the car, “This looks scary!” She yelled, pointing at a heap of rusted metal lying haplessly in the woods. I made her get out. I always do. Besides everyone else was already bounding out.
Here, instead of the cute little jam shop I expected there was an entire Wild West village, run by an army of fronteirsfolk who happened to be made of scrap metal, recycled miscellany, and clay. They were both fascinating and terrifying, somewhere between sweet whimsy and an apocalyptic hellscape. And there was everything… a general store, a saloon, living quarters, a jail. Oh, we had fun in the jail, burbling to a couple who’d apparently made this a destination whenever they got bored. Very sweet people. I thought it was just a little mock village but this thing kept going and going and going. By the end I found myself out in the woods staring at a dead knight being loomed over by a dragon, a plywood castle half completed in the background. The Wild West town was more Whimsical but by the time I got to the knights and the dead Viking, being sent off in a half decayed boat, everyone was getting lightly unnerved. In fact the creatures drawing the wagons and carts had gone from quirky to “Soooo…. that last tab of acid is what did it, huh?” Clearly this artist had as many voices in his head as I do (which I can truly appreciate!)
I love places that encourage the desire to play in everyone from small children to the elderly. It just really brightens my day, but this isn’t even mentioning the jams! They really do have jams! And jellies! Preserves! And chutneys! All of which are free to sample at the little shop on crackers, or if you’d like to pay for a scone there’s a sweet little cafe sitting area to enjoy. Of course I sampled everything and 
