Tag: day trip

Swan Point Cemetery – Providence RI

Swan Point Cemetery is a gorgeous 200 acre garden cemetery that I had been meaning to return to so I could take photos and blog it. My first visit was to find the grave of H P Lovecraft, which we did, but it was a very short visit as the cemetery was closing within the hour. This time we made sure to leave quite early so we could have the time to walk the entire grounds and I must say there was a lot to see!

I think I was struck with the diversity in this particular graveyard. There seemed to be a lot of different ethnicities calling this their last resting place. Some of the stones even had different languages on them and a lot had symbols and designs even I was at a loss to interpret – which is always great fun! And mixed among them there were mausoleums, pillars, crosses, angels of all sorts, bronze statues, and a great deal of truly creative stones. One was even in the form of a dollhouse with the front door reading, “welcome home.” In fact there was a lot of endearing messages on these stones that would melt anyone’s heart – words of affirmation and love – poems, epitaphs, and Bible verses.

I was also enamored with how many kinds of monuments there were here – everything from traditional slate stones, to simple marble, to ornately carved marble, to metal, to natural granite boulders which were probably already there, to metal and mausoleums. It gave this place great character!

And so did all the infant stones. There were a lot buried within family plots that had not only their own stones but names in recognition of their exceptionally brief existence. It was pretty clear a lot of these were likely stillbirths and it sort of hit a soft spot with me. Having toured a lot of the less wealthy cemeteries I know historically infants and toddlers frequently weren’t given stones and of the handful of infants I have found almost none of them had names – instead being listed as “baby.” Sometimes they’d be buried with their mother if she also died during the birth or shortly after. I don’t think it’s because the poor loved their children any less – I think this was more a question of who has the luxury to spend time mourning. Infant deaths have historically been very common and in those days women were usually encouraged to just move on without any real grieving period – just pretending it never happened. It was another sobering lesson on the realities of the economic classes.

Another one of these reminders came in the form of the servicemen I found – coming from each of the wars of the past century – their memorials often had whole passages written on them on how exactly they died – overseas, during battle, as a prisoner in foreign lands, or in the hospital after being injured in battle. I was not used to this. I was used to the only identification that a serviceman was buried being the flag planted aside the grave that is paid for by the state. It was a lot to take in.

Meanwhile we did manage to find the grave of H P Lovecraft. I like finding author graves… the tokens left on them are frequently interesting. Today someone had left a bottle of whisky, a woolen hat, and a series of rubber duckies. Why, I have no idea but it was fun to speculate!

All and all I had a great time and think this would be a wonderful place for a little stroll or even a picnic. It was mid October when I visited and freakishly warm at more than 70 degrees. The sun melted me into a puddle! But other than that it was very pleasant for both me and my travel companion.

1

Eyrie House Ruins & Goat’s Peak Tower – Holyoke MA

This week I returned to the Eyrie House ruins.. and I know you’re saying, “Returned? When did you go the first time?” I went early in the summer months and it was such a bad trip I decided not to write a blog entry and deter anyone from going up there. Suffice to say my super unfit ass had a HARD time getting up there and overheated so badly that I ended up horking up my lunch in the woods. From there I met a sweet old hippie woman on a break coming down that I spent an hour talking to and then we got locked in the park… because we reached the gate five minutes past closing… And in all that time I took almost no photos because I was too concentrated on not dying.

I promised we could return when I was in better shape and to be honest I was a little iffy when it came up again. Not that it wasn’t nice… just… you know, when things go that badly the first time it doesn’t really give you much motive to want to try again. However, this time we were bringing two friends with us – one with a fucked up leg and another who by their own admission had let the quarantine weight we’ve all gained go a little too far. Now that there was the possibility of not being the weakest on the team (for the first time ever!) I was feeling hopeful.

So we got there earlier this time, lunches already in hand, and met the hill.

“This is the hill? This is nothing. It’s maybe a 30 degree incline.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said… but IT KEEPS GOING.” [and going and going.] The sign at the beginning claims it’s a little more than a mile. The Internet on the other hand says it’s a 2.4 mile trail.

Sure enough that little hill didn’t stop. And despite being the middle of goddamn fall the temperature was SEVENTY-FOUR degrees out. But at least it wasn’t muggy like the first time! Still, our guests needed a break. A few breaks really. Until we hit a little turn off trail called the Goat’s Peak trail. It led to a nearby viewing tower.

Of course my usual travel companion wanted to take this detour and see what was there. Claiming the usual, “It has to be just right there… how far could it be?!”

Not surprisingly to me it wasn’t just right there and it was a mini hike all on it’s own. The Internet agrees it was a mile and a half added to our trek. In any event only three of us made it to the tower and of those three I was the only one to make it all the way up. Fatigue and vertigo had taken out the others.

I’m not going to say it wasn’t scary climbing up there – because it really was. The steps and platforms were all see-through grates which gave the uneasy feeling you were climbing into the air. And it was four sets of stairs before the top. I took my time and got there. And I must say the view was GORGEOUS. I could see for miles and miles. There were houses and churches, a water tower, a ski slope, some farm land and just as I was fucking around trying to make a panoramic photo with my cell phone a turkey vulture flew right by me at eye level only a few feet away. It was HUUUUGE. Like watching a pterodactyl in it’s natural habitat. But of course by the time I got my real camera untangled it was far away again. Shame, would have been an awesome photo! Instead I took a photo of a helicopter in the distance and one snap straight down to show how high up I was.

When I was ready to come down I was a little unsure how I was going to manage. I think the reality of being so high up was just starting to hit me and I was unsure how to go about this – do I go down backwards like a ladder? Or forwards clinging onto both rails for dear life and hitting each step with both feet like a toddler learning to walk? I chose the latter. And I was OK… until I hit the ground and got full on jelly legs and was barely able to stand.

“Uhhh…. I need to sit for a minute!!” My hands were shaking a bit from the adrenaline. Oh, how I missed these little random adrenaline bursts I get while travelling. When I could reliably put my legs under me again we continued on, gathering the whole crew back again and taking a few more breaks… the most amusing of which was when an 84 year old man and his dog jogged by us without so much as a drop of sweat on his brow.

Finally we made it to the old parking lot where cars used to be allowed. It was now a scenic overlook. And from there… the test really began because it wasn’t far to the ruins but it was at a much steeper incline. Even I had to bulldog this portion of the hike and I was doing really well until now!

But there at the top there is indeed the ruins of a swank hotel that burned down in 1908 after a botched horse cremation. And it’s beautiful! And it has quite a view looking out as well. We all gathered, ate our lunches, and I ran around taking photos – most of which came out super washed out because I had not intended it to be quite so glaringly sunny on that day and my camera didn’t take well to this. It’s a shame too because some of the nature shots were so pretty I was going to put them on my RedBubble shop but alas, they’re all blurry!! Foiled again!

On our way down I also found the world’s tiniest Eastern Garter Snake hatchling and picked it up. I was told this little buggar “HAD” to be in this entry so here he is in all his tiny glory. Sadly we didn’t get a photo of him with his tiny gummy mouth open yelling, “I So ScArY!!” but he totally did that too. And it was ADORABLE. I let him loose in some leaf litter of the trail.

If you’re looking for a hike to some nice ruins this is a winner – just make sure you’re in shape first!!

Views from the Trail

Views from Goat’s Peak Tower

Views of the Eyrie House Ruins

0

Shopping at Old Mystik Village – Mystic CT

After thoroughly enjoying B F Clyde’s Cider Mill we decided to continue the day by going into the more populous side of the city for a little shopping. I’m not really one who normally enjoys shopping for the sake of shopping but I am starting to see this might just be because of the places I end up and the people I go with. I say this because on this day I had a great time!

I guess I was intrigued by the description of the shops there including an Alice in Wonderland themed tea shop and a storefront promising an assortment of sharp stabby things (seriously… who has even heard of a sword shop?! Sounds so medieval.) And all of it was situated in the Old Mystik Village which sounds sooo… witchy. I guess this is what made it all the less surprising when we walked into a series of mystic and magic type shops that had everything a Wiccan or Pagan could possibly want. We spent a good few hours picking shops that seemed interesting and wandering in to poke at things like an enthusiastic tourist. I am going to try and remember all of them and list them below but we’ll see how this goes!

Ice Imports: This was the promised stabby things store but it didn’t look like it when we first walked in. In fact it looked like a rock shop with all sorts of geodes and shiny rocks. Some were natural others were in bracelets and rings. The whole middle of the store was dedicated to magic bracelets – made with rock beads of your choice – each listing what magical purpose they were good for. None of the labels said anything about their more utilitarian use – they were GREAT fidgets! Especially if you buy two or more and play with them together. My companion was happy to find more hematite rings… to replace the ones he bought in Salem… I am absolutely perplexed how he keeps breaking them but I guess that’s part of their charm. Their sellers claim they break when they have absorbed all the negative energy they can. Convenient… I can’t say I am convinced but I respect the beliefs of others. There were also a bunch of ADORABLE knickknacks and a counter full of shiny stabby things!! So basically you could buy a baby dragon and a sword to slay it all the same shop!

Dharma Jewels: From there we walked into Dharma Jewels which describes itself as a gift shop full of handmade Tibetan and Himalayan goods. I couldn’t help but see the parallels between this and the witch shops as they also had a lot of space dedicated to things like lucky coins but also an assortment of colorful clothes, weird bags, and more recognizable religious artifacts like prayer flags and posters of Krishna. The women working the counter seemed very happy and the place had a uniquely pleasant smell, not sure what it was.

Alice in the Village: I just had to go to this little Alice in Wonderland inspired tea shop. I mean come on, it’s obvious I love the story – I draw a weekly comic based on the hookah smoking caterpillar’s ill-begotten grandchild. ANYWAY, the place was adorable. It had Alice in Wonderland mugs, knickknacks, and decorations lining the walls. The decorations to the place added to the sheer whimsy of it. It was a small place with a tiny seating area and a counter full of colorful macaroons…. which I had to try because I’ve never eaten a proper French macaroon. They’re crunchy and filled with goo. I was not expecting that but they were good! And they went well with the magic disappearing Cheshire Cat mug that ended up going home with me.

Alice in the Village

Bestamors: This shop was HUGE and weird. It was a shrine to everything Nordic/Northern European. Warm clothes, creepy trolls up the wazoo, gnomey gnomes, swarms of nesting dolls, and another counter full of stabby things listed by country! It just went on and on with no lack of things to poke at. I was thoroughly amused.

Extra Virgin: This place was another bizarre niche store that I couldn’t help but adore. As you walk in there is a row of dispensers for their flavored olive oils and vinaigrettes. And the other side of the store is dedicated to their flavored honeys – all of which you can try and we did! I ended up coming home with a bottle of blackberry bramble vinaigrette which is going to up my salad game hardcore.

Kitch: Kitch was another shockingly enormous store that really didn’t look big from the outside. Inside it was full to the brim with all the latest in kitchen gadgetry as well as a counter dedicated to a line of hot sauces. They had everything you could want here… pots, pans, tea kettles, cooking gadgets, unidentifiable tools, the whole lot! “I could lose several paychecks in here.” My companion lamented with plate-sized eyes. “I could too…”

Angel Haven: Once you’ve already been through several shops dedicated to lucky charms going into one dedicated to personal angels didn’t seem so weird. Lots of shiny pricey jewelry and some $600 steam punky clocks that opened up and showed all their gears once every hour while singing a different tune for each hour of the day. It was quite a display! And hey, someday if I ever become rich enough to dump $600 on a wall clock who knows, maybe I’ll be back. Never did figure out who my personal angel was – though if there’s an angel of anxiety and pointless distraction it’s probably that one.

Raining Cats and Dogs: I’m not going to lie – I find it pretty depressing I am currently not owned by any pets but seeing as both my travel companions had cats we all went in to see what damage we could do in that department. This place was mostly for dogs, small dogs at that, with all sorts of little coats and toys and whatnot but there was one corner dedicated to cats. And let me tell you the catnip toy that ended up coming home must have been some strong shit because the kitten just about went rabid when it was given to her.

Franklin’s General Store: I loved this place. It smelled kinda weird as general stores frequently do and it had everything from a fudge counter to a pile of zombie rubber ducks. It was a maze of eccentric old timey items and always fun to rifle through. I ended up buying a little encyclopedia of oddities because why not, might give me some inspiration.

Irish Eyes: Finally we went into an Irish themed store that was totally mental. I don’t know why I didn’t take any photos – maybe because it was a tiny cramped shop. Anyway, it had EVERYTHING you could possibly want Irishwise – funny T-shirts, cribbage boards, sheep galore, and even a music kit for starting your own Irish folk band that included several Irish instruments. It was weird and kind of sweet.

And that was our day shopping… from here we’d make our way to an escape room in Warwick RI because why not end our adventures there?

0

Rhode Island Antique Mall – Pawtucket RI

After perusing the Wickford Village Antiques we made our way to the Rhode Island Antique Mall. This destination I suggested because it had the word mall in it’s very utilitarian title which indicated it had multiple vendors which is always good when you’re trying to find something weird. And I was. Sometimes it’s fun to actually try to find a specific item and this place looked promising. This time around I had chosen to seek a long silver pipette. Not because I have any particular interest in tobacco paraphernalia as a nonsmoker but because I was toying with the idea of being a flapper for Halloween and how cool would it be to have a pipette to complete that ensemble?! Especially knowing flappers were the first women allowed to go to bars and smoke in public (and vote!) which was HUGE at the time. Flaunt that independence! It’s amazing! Sadly, I did not find what I was looking for but the antique mall was still a great place to end up. We lost several hours wandering here.

This place was pretty big with two fully packed floors that had everything from rows and rows of sparkly jewelry to a fully functional pinball machine. But things didn’t get real interesting until we stepped into a little side room that I hope was tended to by a mortician with a sense of humor. If it wasn’t then…. I have some questions. You see the room contained a child sized coffin cooler (because adult coffin coolers aren’t morbid enough?) A couple fetish dolls (not sure what the correct term for them is?) an old wooden wheel chair and even creepier still a whole shelf full of expired embalming fluid. Because who doesn’t have a few bottles of that kicking around, ammirite? And if death related items weren’t your thing there was a cow yolk here with a tag reading, “This looks like a chastity belt but it’s just a cow harness.” Inappropriate humor! This one tiny room alone was totally worth the trip but there was so much more.

I ended up wandering downstairs not long after this and whew! What a wonderful assortment of random things! Haunted dolls, LOTS of probably haunted dolls made my heart jump with glee. There were even two possessed Micky Mouses and a Donald Duck I am pretty certain was employed reaping souls in the thirties. That’s not to mention the medical dummy with removable organs, the slew of terrible taxidermy and alligator purses, the really old Halloween decorations, or a brand new unicycle! I ended up going home with a $4 Phil Ochs record (a wicked steal!) and The Best of Procol Harem because… I don’t know, it struck my fancy that day. I mean what other band is named after someone’s pet cat AND a random phrase in Latin? That totally embodied the spirit of our meanderings that day.

This was an awesome place that I do believe I will visit again and highly recommend to anyone interested in antiques. Their prices were very reasonable and their assortment was vast!

0

Wickford Village Antiques and Collectables – North Kingstown RI

Once again our weekly adventure was rained out so we did what any adventurous gaggle of millennials would do -we made sure to get a solid two or so hours of sleep and then went antiquing! OK, so I might be exaggerating a little but after 30 everything feels like two hours of sleep. Your knees gets creaky, you gain a fetching pair of black bags to place permanently under your eyes, and you look at children voluntarily sitting on the floor with immense envy. Youth really is wasted on the young. But I digress. We were talking about antiquing. I think. Yes. Antiquing.

ANYWAY. Earlier on my travel companion spent a good few minutes Googling cool places to check out. There was one in town and another whimsically titled store called The Book Garden that garnered his attention but alas the one in town was so devoid of personality I’m not even going to bother making an entry for it and the Book Garden was weirdly lacking in both books and gardens. It was a cute little place in the corner of one of those wedge shaped buildings that may have been nice to visit if you were already shopping on the street but it wasn’t worth just going to in it’s own. By now we were both wondering if today was going to be a total waste.

That’s when we finally stumbled half-hazardly onto a nearby winner – the Wickford Village Antiques! It was a cute little place absolutely loaded to the brim with loose buttons. Ten cents a piece. A button lovers utopia. But it wasn’t just the buttons that endeared me to this place it was also the strange doll in the window that looked like she was maybe an old Halloween decoration but I honestly couldn’t tell. And a creepy Humpty Dumpty plushie. And a windchime in the shape of a fish skeleton. Little weird. Loving that. And for the math nerds and historians there was even a tax book for the town of Coventry circa 1941. Suffice to say taxes were a lot less then. I admit it. I looked.

It was a sweet little shop in the end. Definitely worth a look if you happen to be in town.

0

B-52 Crash Site – Greenville Maine

Did you know there are numerous airplane crash sites in the woods you can still hike to all over New England? I have wanted to visit one for a long time now but most of them are pretty intense hikes into the mountains which I knew I couldn’t physically do… but the B-52 crash site in Greenville is practically right off the parking lot so it was the optimum amount of difficulty for me!

And the story surrounding it is more exciting than an Indiana Jones adventure. On January 24, 1963 a B-52C Stratofortress flew out of the Westover Airforce Base in Massachusetts. It was a training mission for six crew members and three observers to learn how to fly at low altitudes over rugged terrain to avoid RADAR detection in the Cold War effort. All was going well until the turbulence became violent enough to rip off the vertical air stabilizer which sent the plane careening into Elephant Mountain. The pilot gave the order for everyone to eject but it’d only be ten seconds between this and the plane hitting the ground. Almost everyone on board died on impact but the pilot and navigator managed to eject in time but there was a big problem here too – the pilot’s parachute didn’t deploy after ejection and he landed without it’s aid the five feet of snow below. Remarkably he only suffered a broken ankle and is the only one in US history to survive an ejection without a deployed parachute. The navigator survived with only minor injury but this was only the beginning of a miserable situation because they were six miles beyond civilization in the thick and untamed wilderness. If that wasn’t bad enough the temperature was at -15 degrees that night with a wind kicking up at 40 knots. With the added wind-chill factor this would have felt like -51F or -46C respectively. They somehow survived the night and were rescued in the morning when they could be reached.

Currently the wreckage is still six miles beyond the borders of Greenville up a series of logging roads. Having learned my lesson from my last logging road adventure I left the Prius behind and took the RAV4. This was the right idea! Several parts of the road were nearly washed out from recent rains and it got rough at points but unlike the abandoned trains the journey was relatively short and very well marked. There were signs pointing to the B52 memorial site all along the route and afterwards there were signs to guide us back to Greenville which was great because the GPS is useless on logging roads and shouldn’t be relied on in such a situation.

We weren’t the only ones there that day as several families with an inordinate amount of children were bounding out of the woods. They were respectful though, everyone was. I was shocked at the sheer carnage. You’d think that after so many decades in the wilderness that there wouldn’t be much left but actually there were pieces of metal and rubber everywhere, scattered over a disturbing distance, some pieces were still in trees. We could identify some of the wreckage but most of it was just lumps of shrapnel at this point. And that’s where the deeply unsettling thought comes to mind that airplanes are basically just tin cans we’ve convinced to stay in the air for a while.

I found the memorial to be as interesting as it was sobering and would definitely recommend it to anyone with an interest in these things. It’s near Moosehead Lake and there are a bountiful number of other things you can do in the area – hiking, camping, kayaking, and that sort of thing.

0

The House of Seven Gables – Salem MA

It was two in the morning the night before when we both were lamenting that we hadn’t planned anything for the next day – our weekly excursion. I said we could always wing something before my companion said he really wanted to go to Salem to see the House of Seven Gables. I have been to Salem many times, usually during the Halloween season, and I absolutely love walking around the touristy section and enjoying the general vibe. This was a place for misfits of all sorts and I was more than happy to go.

We slept for a few hours, got up and started our fairly miserable journey through Boston and onto Salem. I’ve been to the House of Seven Gables before but I was just knee high to a grasshopper at the time and my travel companion had a very similar experience. We both wanted to see if it’d be any better as an adult.

When I went as a kid the whole tour was based on Nathaniel Hawthorne – who never actually lived there but who had used the house as inspiration for what was at the time a globally popular book. I was a voracious reader as a kid but I never much liked Nathaniel Hawthorne… he struck as someone with an overinflated opinion of his own writing, which let’s face it – was the soap opera of the day. I could have probably forgiven this if it weren’t for a few other annoying personality traits – a penchant for whining and misogyny among them. All I remembered from this tour was the weird super tight staircase which I’ll get to in a moment.

I must say the young woman who led the tour on this day did a fantastic job telling us about everything – the house’s actual owners through the years, the wait staff which were at times slaves and indentured servants, and we even learned about the architecture and design. But perhaps the thing I was most struck by was this new feminine vibe. We got to learn all about a series of women involved with the house who were absolutely brilliant in eschewing the gender rules of the time including a Ms. Caroline Emmerton who refused marriage so she could inherit her family’s fortune which she then used to restore the House of Seven Gables so she could wield it’s fame to benefit her philanthropic adventures. To this day the house is still host to both citizenship classes and initiation ceremonies. Maybe this is why the word slave on all the historical markers has been changed to ‘enslaved individuals.’

The main part of the house was built in 1668 and it’s the oldest post and beam home still on it’s original foundation in the US today. To my great joy we got to see the ‘bones’ of the house in the attic – which included 2 foot wide timber planks, some sort of long forgotten mortar/insulation, and good old fashioned horse hair plaster. We were told there were wooden planks even wider at the time but anything over two feet was deemed the king’s wood and shipped back to England. Bit mind blowing when you think about it.

Of course the rest of the house showed off the wealth of various eras and how they got to be that way. I was amused by the profound abundance of Chinese and Asian decorating styles – everything from the dishes to the wallpaper! Apparently this was a way to show how worldly and well connected the merchants who lived here were. I had to wonder if genuinely Chinese people were decorating their own houses so garishly at this time or was this a ploy to sell to white people. Secretly, I hope for the latter.

The house was a fun walk through time as each addition shows how life improved from the dingy tiny oven-free kitchen of the 1600’s to the exceptional wealth of the next two hundred years or so. And yes, there was a weird hidden staircase, super thin and windy, put there as a bit of a tip of the hat to Hawthorne’s story which included such a mystery entrance to let a killer get away. It was SUPER tight going up those stairs and just as fun as it was when I was a wee one.

We had a lot of fun and picked up a couple books at the gift store that looked like they might have ideas for additional travels… And so ended our tour and began the rest of our visit to the beautiful seaside village of Salem where we continued our adventures at The Pirate Museum.

0

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.)

0

Stillwater Antique Mall – Greenville Rhode Island

Yet another summer has rolled around which means it’s time to go antiquing! And I don’t mean the stuffy sort of antiquing one might expect from Rhode Island. I am not in the market for a 15th century chair or some fine china I’m afraid to breathe on. I do have enough spare change for a good haunted doll though…

And so we found not an antique store but an antique mall. Antique malls are usually large buildings (in this case a 17th century mill) which rent out booths on consignment meaning it’s halfway between antiquing at a little shop and halfway between rummaging through the town yard sale. You never know what you’re going to find! Or for what price. I was in.

Better still this place has a reputation for being haunted – and I mean with this many antiques that seemed like a guarantee more than a speculation but it wasn’t the antiques that were supposed to be causing the unrest. Unusual activity here was said by some locals to be the wandering spirits linked to the shocking murder of Mary Eddy who was bludgeoned to death in 1903 on her way home from working at the mill. The killer was Earl Jacques, another worker at the mill, whose mother claimed he was mentally slow and did not fully grasp his actions. The motive was to get Eddy’s paycheck for the week. Jacques was convicted and received the death penalty for his crimes while Mary Eddy’s fiancée was so distraught over her murder he committed suicide in a house nearby. Since then his ghost is seen on that property while Mary Eddy is said to wander up and down Pig Road where she was murdered and Jacques stays put in the antique store. Quite the story!

I loved the ambiance of the place even before we stepped inside. By the outside it looks grumpy and old. You can see how the cement used on the outside is beginning to crumble from advanced age exposing the rocks within. Nearby in the parking lot there is a river and a structure which I am guessing probably once hosted a big water wheel. Historic accounts of the town say there’s an inordinate amount of factory accidents, drownings, and people run over by horses or cars that has led to this section gaining it’s haunted reputation.

I didn’t know about all that when I walked in. Perhaps I was too distracted by the giant sock monkey being hugged by a Kraken-esque tentacle. Yup, we’d stumbled onto another winner. Right behind that was a cache of great vinyl records – most classic rock from the 60’s-80’s. Usually when I come into a place like this and there’s a record collection it’s 90% dollar records that no one has ever heard of (or just blatantly doesn’t want – I’m looking at you Bill Cosby albums.)

This place was massive and just seemed to go on and on. I was in love with the old architecture and the uniqueness of each booth. There was just everything here – including a bottle of arsenic that gave instructions of what to do in case of accidental poisoning. Somehow I don’t think milk and butter do a hell of a lot but hey, if it worked for grandma…

My travel companion kept entertained finding increasingly scary Santas spread like confetti through the entire store. As fun as that was I had my eyes on the less Christmasy dolls. There was a huge case of trolls… did you know they made PUPPY TROLLS? And they’re just as terrifying as they sound. Even worse was a doll that looked like it might be able to crawl on its own and another in a case with half its head missing – scalped? Lobotomized? One can’t be too sure. Always fun were the usual bassinets full of random doll parts just waiting for some young Frankenstein to come waltzing in. “Ah yes, this’ll do…”

An even more funny image to me was a plastic reindeer situated atop all the cases just looking out over the store. It was missing one foot and seemed… happy about that. And of course there was always a few items here and there to remind us of what racist fucks we’ve been in the past. A mammie doll here, an “Indian Joe” drumming figure there, and can’t forget the odd Chinamen… Still, there was MUCH less of this than in Maine which is what I’m used to.

Did you know that Mr. Potatohead once had a companion, Oscar Orange? I guess he must not have sold as well. Another bizarre find was the entire cast of the Wizard of Oz as cows. At the end of the day neither one of us came home with anything but we both wanted to return at a later date because you just never know…

0

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.

0

Proudly powered by WordPress | Theme: Baskerville 2 by Anders Noren.

Up ↑