Tag: Historical

Bancroft Castle – Groton MA

DSC_0110On my list of destinations I had several “castles” and estates that have been turned into public spaces for whatever reason. This was one of them and was situated at the end of a trail. There was supposed to be a trail head behind a local restaurant but there was also another entrance down a nearby dirt road – again a hard find. It was a set of steps aside the aforementioned road with a tiny cut off on the other side. Though it was poorly marked it was marked so we headed into the woods not really knowing what we’d find. Turns out hills. We found one steep hill after another that went deeper into the forest before dumping us out into a pasture and then at the top of the last hill a phenomenal view of everything below – a beautiful pastoral scene sprawled out ahead of us framed in the distance by the blue ridges of a mountain. A tractor plowed back and forth and a field of lilacs added additional color. I was already happy and we hadn’t even found the castle yet!

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As it turns out the castle was just around the corner. I had seen one head on photo of it online and that was enough to get my interest but really this ruin was large and multi-dimensional. You could see three different fireplaces on three different floors and ivy grew everywhere giving it an English countryside feel to it. It afforded all sorts of opportunity for oddly angled shots and lots of whimsy. “This looks EXACTLY like a scene in a book I’m reading!” I smiled, happy today’s adventures were not a disappointment. I always fear they’re going to be when I take someone with me because this fool does piss poor research and likes to just go… but that’s OK, I had a wonderful day and so did she so it’s all good! I may be back in the fall to see how those trees look from way up here…

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Gallivanting in Peterborough NH

Today had drop dead gorgeous weather but being a holiday weekend it was coupled with an inordinate amount of insane drivers so I didn’t really want to go too far… and I did have to go to the feed store to pick up a bag of food for my lovely bunnies. So I decided I’d got to Peterborough, which was two towns over, forsaking the feed store in town and the one that was one town over. Peterborough is about twenty minutes away but why just go directly there when you can meander? Little was I to know I was about to take a four hour ride into the most beautiful bits of nowhere.

I decided I would forsake all main roads and start going down a few rural dirt roads which I felt were going in the right direction. My hunch proved right! But before I made it to the feed store I started seeing the most wildly beautiful things. The first little discovery I found was on Sharon road. It was an abandoned bridge attached to a road that the wilderness has taken over. I stopped the car and parked on the shoulder of the road so I could explore further on foot. The bridge itself was beautiful made with intricate stonework. The river it spanned was even more stunning and I was delighted to see that it was still connected to an abandoned road. Of course I had to know where it led so I sauntered across the bridge and walked into the forest. This place was wild. Clearly there had once been a paved road here but over the years the plant life had grown up and reclaimed the land as it’s own. This place reminded me of a fairy tale – wild, mysterious, overgrown, and the smell of the river was absolutely heavenly. The “road” didn’t go very far, it just attached itself to another road running parallel to the one I had left not too far away. Still it was a wonderful little find and in 80 degree weather it was probably just long enough!

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From here I wandered badly on a bunch of little roads that I found interesting. I criss-crossed the river several times and found another adorable bridge – though this was far more modern I had fun crawling under it. Judging by the tags an dthe empty beer bottle I wasn’t the only one to find it!

As I crawled back up to my car I couldn’t help but feel so lucky in having found this whole area. It was so quiet, alive only with the gurgling of the river. Occasionally I’d find a farm here and there, or other properties that clearly used to be farms, places that owned vast acreages. It was breath taking and I was often rewarded with the sight of deer, wild flowers, and views of Mount Monadknock.

Eventually I made it to the feed store. I bought my bunny food. I came out feeling like I still needed to poke around for a bit. So that’s what I did. I turned into a plaza I had driven by hundreds of times and learned all sorts of things aout Peterborough’s history! Here there was a sign that told of the founding of the town, badly damaged with age, apparently no one has paid much attention to it for some time. Here, right aside the road, was another view of the river which was choked with water lilies. As I walked  back to my car I noticed another car drive around the building. I pondered this and decided to go for it. That’s when I found myself transported through time. I had no idea this building was an old mill but it’s backside made t his obvious. Even more stunning was a dam and a waterfall which must have been used once to generate electricity. Who knew this was in cute little Peterborough?!

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“Persecuted for wearing the beard” Gravestone – Evergreen Cemetery – Leominster MA

Evergreen Cemetery had eluded me previously. Little was I to know I had made it here once but I came in through the upper gate which wasn’t labelled with the cemetery’s name. Even funnier still I was within eye shot of the stone I was looking for that day and had no idea. Today I went with a few “before you go” tips.

I wanted to find the stone of Joseph Palmer who was a man after my own heart. He died in 1873, with great humor. He ordered a stone to be carved in his likeness with the epitaph, “Persecuted for wearing the beard.” Apparently in his day and age men didn’t wear beards in New England, especially ones with any status. It was considered brutish, unclean, and the men who did wear beards tended to be the same people we liked to harass at the time – minorities like the tiny Jewish population that was probably somewhere (in the cities perhaps?) The church wasn’t any happier with his dogged insistence on facial hair than the community was and he was harassed here too. When the local pastor asked rather unkindly why he didn’t shave Palmer replied, “… Jesus wore a beard not unlike mine.” which has to be the best answer ever, if not the reason he was eventually excommunicated from the church.

In May 1830 things got even worse when he was attacked in the streets of Fitchburg by four men armed with scissors and razors who had plotted to shave the beard off themselves. They hadn’t realized they’d be in for the fight of their lives. The old farmer wasn’t terribly patient with such things and he pulled out a knife and began slashing, wounding two of the four assailants. To add insult to injury he found himself arrested after this for “unprovoked assault,” known today as self defense. He was found guilty and fined by Judge David Brigham. Palmer refused on principle to cough up $750 for his fine, court fees, and bond, and was sent to prison for fifteen months.

Prison life didn’t treat him any better than the outside world. Other prisoners continued to try and shave off his beard and prison officials kept coming up with increasingly cruel and sadistic punishments for him. He kept a detailed journal of the whole charade and eventually left…. beard in tact and free… if not with a slightly bruised ego. He only gained his freedom by paying his $10 fine after the judge who sent him to prison begged him to.

His life after that got even more interesting as he befriended many intellectuals and writers of the day. He even ended up being the basis of the character Moses White in Louisa May Alcott’s Transcendental Wild Oats. In 1843 he even joined a commune called the Fruitlands Experiment and when that failed he even tried to run his own commune later in life. He remained active in politics, religious reform, abolitionism, and of course beard activism until the day he died — which funny enough was the same era where beards had once again become fashionable. So now you know the twisted and strange story of Joseph Palmer.

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I must admit the cemetery Joseph Palmer is buried in is gorgeous. Clearly people of great wealth had been buried here for quite some time. I spent a few hours walking and snapping photos of the angels and Cherubs who decorated many stones. Another stone of interest was found in the new part of the cemetery where a woman had been buried with her beloved pet cat Dr Pepper.

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!


 

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Three Covered Bridges – New Hampshire

I drove for another half an hour before I came to the next GPS destination – again in the middle of nowhere. I drove around where I thought this bridge might be, looking at the rivers illustrated on my GPS map, and just driving towards them. Eventually I hit pay dirt with the Rowell Bridge in West Hopkinton. This bridge was completed in 1853 and still sees a good deal of traffic – from both directions even though it is a one lane bridge. I have to admit the idea of crossing it with my car made me a bit skittish but it didn’t rock, or sway, or do anything strange, and I made it across without a fuss. However despite there being signs pointing the way to the bridge there are no parking spaces and being one lane it wasn’t particularly pedestrian friendly either. I pulled over aside the road the best I could next to what may or may not have been a primitive road to somewhere else. I walked down there a bit to get a better shot of the side of the bridge and I poked around taking photos. The locals here kept slowing their cars and staring at me like I was some sort of circus attraction. Surely, others must come to walk and photograph their bridge??

 

 

I was back in the car and heading towards the next bridge on my agenda – Waterloo Bridge in Warner New Hampshire. This one was a fun one to find! My GPS decided that half the roads in the area were imaginary and for most of the trip there it said I was floating in mid air. Again it was not at the address listed and I had to just drive circles in the area crossing over the river again and again until I got the right road. Boy was I happy when I found it! This little beauty was built in 1859-60.

 

I was doing well today! Why not go for a third bridge? I drove off and got onto the highway, the same highway I felt I was becoming a little too familiar with, when I noticed the RAV was thirsty. I needed to find a gas station… and as usual when you ask a GPS to find one for you it’ll inevitably lead you on a wild goose chase, which is exactly what it did. I took an exit and followed directions only to end up… nowhere. I tried the next nearest gas station and again ended up in a residential neighborhood with not even the faintest hint of a gas station. I was starting to get punchy when I tried for a third time. This time it said “main street” so I figured it was a good bet. My hunch was right — and even better the gas station was right across the street from another covered bridge! A completely accidental find! This one was attached to an old train station turned park so I wandered across the road to take a peek. It was called the Contoocook Railway Bridge and Depot. It was a big one! And boy did it take nice black and whites! And unlike the other bridges there were people around this one playing just as I was.

 

From here I continued to Merrimack where there was a cluster of covered bridges but it was getting late and I kept hitting closed roads and construction. Plus by this time I really needed to pee and was getting hungry so I decided three bridges are good enough for one day and I came home… stopping only once more to take a photo of my favorite paint horse farm in Temple…

***I apologize for any missing photos and galleries as I continue to work getting Catching Marbles fully migrated to a new host. Please come back soon for restored photos and thank you for your patience!***

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!


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Robert Frost House – Derry NH

Since I was in the area anyway I decided to go to the Robert Frost house, some eight and a half miles from Benson Park. Robert Frost is one of New England’s most famous poets. You probably remember him from The Road Not Taken, you know the one that starts, “Two paths diverged in a yellow wood…” He’s also the delightful curmudgeon who coined, “Good fences make good neighbors.” This is something considering he lived on a large acreage in the middle of nowhere. I can relate. My DNA is also composed of a lot of Hermit fragments.

The house was right off the road, super easy to find. I had heard there were trails nearby but it was getting a little late to be mucking about in the woods all by my lonesome. I am not sure if anyone lives there or not but there is a sign telling you all about it…

***I apologize for any missing photos and galleries as I continue to work getting Catching Marbles fully migrated to a new host. Please come back soon for restored photos and thank you for your patience!***

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!


 

Robert Frost House

Just up the road I was thrilled to find a happy surprise – an old caboose still sitting on the track outside of a tiny recovered train station that was now being used as a trailhead. I stopped and took a few photos.

Today was also the first day I decided to actually pull over and start reading all the historical markers I had driven by a billion times but never read. This one’s aside the road in Jaffrey, pretty much in the middle of the woods. Look, I learned something!

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Benson Animal Farm [Abandoned Zoo Turned Park] Hudson NH

The weather was perfect today, sunny but not too hot, and I was getting itchy feet to go somewhere so I decided on Benson Park which was once a popular zoo that closed, I think in the 1980’s, and then rotted for a good long time before the town decided to  make it into a lovely park. I wasn’t sure what to expect but I’d been promised I could play in empty zoo enclosures so I was in.

I have been to plenty of roadside zoos and I figured that’s what this would be… I figured it’d be some rotted fencing jutting out of an embankment in the woods somewhere but actually it’s smack dab in the middle of civilization and has a huge parking lot to boot. Upon entering I noticed three things: A nursing home, not affiliated but still right there, a dog park in what was probably a zoo cage at one point, and a TON of kids playing on brand new playground equipment. So this old zoo somehow became a place to house old people, dogs, and children. Seemed odd but oddly fitting…

I wandered where I pleased. Although there were trails here with names they were insanely poorly marked, and by that I mean pretty much not marked at all except for one wooded section that might make city dwellers think they’d die if they wandered off too far… That was the best though, as it was in the far corner and super quiet. The vegetation had grown so out of control it grew around and over the paths making this sort of whimsical lush green tunnel. Swamp lands abounded, as did vague signs about being on the moose path. I had a weird moment of realization that this once could have been the home of tigers and wildebeest, things that should have never lived in this part of the world, things that could easily kill. Were their ghosts still lingering?

There wasn’t much left to the old zoo but the buildings that remained were under reconstruction. I got to walk up to an idle ticket booth, an “elephant house” turned gift store, some sort of cage I am hoping the elephant didn’t live in, and another very depressing wrought iron prison used for the gorilla. Apparently they had one silver back gorilla, living in solitary isolation in a cage I would find the appropriate size for a small flock of chickens. That is where I left off and the place made me feel SAD. I could just imagine the poor beast pacing the tiny concrete floor in his own Victorian Hell. Say what you will about zoos – at least the ones these days aren’t that damn depressing!

As an added bonus I got to spend some time with some really tame Canadian geese and their awkward and ugly little goslings, almost as big as their parents but still sporting little tufts of fuzz. This was delightful surprise and made me ache to be back living on a free range farm. It reminded me what a peaceful and fulfilling experience it is to live among the animals. It has once again solidified my determination to make this a reality in the future. Sigh, someday!

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!


 

 

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Historic Shaker Village – Harvard MA

This took three tries (and I have no justifiable defense for this) to find the lollipop cemetery which was set up by Shakers who for whatever reason decided that grave stones should be made of cast iron lollipops. They were a weird bunch.

There’s a trail nearby that might go behind these places but I ran out of time (with the sun setting and all.) Instead I was overjoyed to find there were ruins just up the road of an old Shaker church. Also viewable from the road was what used to be their living quarters, a HUGE house now privately owned which I would not be surprised to find out has twenty or thirty rooms… I mean seriously, that’s practically a castle. I felt weird snapping a photo of this house as it was private property but I didn’t hesitate to take a few snaps of the ruins and the graveyard.

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Lowell City Cemetery & Lowell Cemetery

Yet again I set out to go to one cemetery and ended up at another. I can find obscure paths with no markers, historical landmarks no one has ever heard of, cool places guarded by whispering locals, but ask me to find a cemetery, any cemetery what-so-ever and I will find a different one! That’s OK. They’re all beautiful in their own ways. The confusion came from the fact there is both a Lowell City Cemetery (which I ended up at first) and a Lowell Cemetery which has the ever gorgeous Ayer Lion who I like to visit from time to time.

Seeing as I was already at the Lowell City Cemetery I decided to take a quick peak. An enormous monument of an elk had caught my eye as well as an equally enormous statue of a Native American which I couldn’t fathom why it existed in a rich white man’s cemetery. Turns out the Indian was Aspinquid, Chief of the Penacook Indians. Looks like he must have impressed someone… but I am not so certain his age marker of 122 years old at death is correct.

 

After that little detour I finally arrived back at the correct cemetery, the Lowell Cemetery, where the famous Ayer Lion resides. He’s the saddest lion you will ever meet – carved life size in marble he can melt the heart of anyone who gazes upon his sorrowful face or his retiring paws. I have admired him for years, occasionally stopping in to say hi, and respected him just for the sheer fine art aspect of this monument. The artist who carved him put so much attention to detail that he even got the skin flap between the legs and body completely life-like. I know it sounds strange but I always feel like consoling the poor beast with a hug, as if he were somehow real. He’s garnered much attention over the years, as have a few other monuments like “Witch Bonney” who was never a witch and I am not even sure was named Bonney. One of New England’s favorite past times has been to make up scary bullshit stories to scare our children. That was one of them…

 

***I apologize for any missing photos and galleries as I continue to work getting Catching Marbles fully migrated to a new host. Please come back soon for restored photos and thank you for your patience!***

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!


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BONUS! There’s a tiny park just a little ways away from the cemetery which is what I can only call a swamp with a few tables. Totally worth checking out if only for the fact you can say, “I’ve been to a swamp park and befriended some amorous bullfrogs!” I know what you’re thinking and no, none of them turned out to be princes.

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Mammoth Caves – Tennessee

I was told Mammoth Caves were amazing and that I had to go. I were running very short on money by this time and chose one tour, the New Entrance Tour. It was between that and the Historical Tour. I was told by the desk guy the New Entrance Tour was a good starter with more formations than the historical tour which was just interesting because of all the odd things that have happened in the caves. That sounded good but I sort of wanted to see the pretty rocks… so I went on the New Entrance Tour. There were one hundred and fourteen people in my group, including two infants and a number of screaming children because a big dark hole in the earth is a perfect place to take such easily frightened individuals. I proceeded into the cave and walked down some stairs, and down some more, and down ever more… I was thinking to myself, “Holy crap, I hope I don’t have to climb all these back up again. I’m going to diiiie.” My calves were shaking violently. Really? I was so out of shape going down the stairs was too much? UGH. That’s what two months of constant car riding will do to you.

The cave itself was a dark underground tunnel with a few slimy looking rocks and a few points that you had to duck of squeeze through but they were wide enough for the giant fat man in front of me sooo I got through just fine.  Anyway, there wasn’t much to see, just a tunnel. There were no stalactites or stalagmites or anything weird or pretty until the very very end. Finally I approached the Frozen Niagara, a wall of popcorn, some formations that looked like wedding cakes, all typically slimy. They were pretty… but I think the last cave I was in was actually prettier, even though it was damaged pretty bad. Here the damage seemed mostly to be in the graffiti which was carved EVERYWHERE. If I had kids I think I’d threaten to carve initials into them if they tried something like this. Not that hard to keep watch of your kids people… SIGH.

After the fairly disappointing tour I got to bathe my feet in Lysol. Something about saving the bats, which is all cool. Had I more money I would have checked out the historical tour and seen if that was any better. I was told the Wild Cave Tour was amazing. It was also the most expensive and apparently intensely physically taxing, taking six hours and winding you through almost the whole cave through some every tight squeezes. I have a I’ll be back…

***I apologize for any missing photos and galleries as I continue to work getting Catching Marbles fully migrated to a new host. Please come back soon for restored photos and thank you for your patience!***

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!


 

 

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Mesa Verde National Park Colorado

While I was camping I came across a pamphlet to Mesa Verde. I had known there were old cliff dwellings somewhere in the area but I mistakenly thought it was Chaco Canyon and I skipped it the last time I was here because of that little mix-up. I decided to go check it out… it was phenomenal!

Driving in I asked the woman who took my entrance fee if it was a hike to see these things. She said yes but otherwise was of no help with my questions, only saying there was an additional guide fee to these places. I really hadn’t the energy to hike into the middle of nowhere and the idea of paying an additional fee for a guide annoyed and confused me. When I ended up at the visitor center everything was cleared up. Basically there is an auto road, free where you can see a lot from a fair distance. Then there is a cliff dwelling you can go into for free, but it is a short hike down and then back up the cliffs. The rest, the guided tours, were to get into all the other dwellings and have someone teach me about them. Each tour had a group of 50 people and were an additional $3 per site to see.

I went into the Spruce Tree House, the free cliff dwelling. There was lots of people. The structure was still a ruin but a very interesting one, there were windows and different rooms, corn grinding stones, and an underground kiva that you could get to by ladder. There was a line for that and I watched as an impossible amount of people file out of it like a clown car. I waited and went in after they came out, making jokes with the girl aside us. “This is the first time I have waited in line to get into someone’s basement.” It was a round and very dark room, reinforced by a number of logs. There wee little niches here and there but all and all it wasn’t that big of a place. After this group of people went in, probably numbering twenty or more, we all filed back out. It was interesting.

I walked back up the cliff. I was huffing and puffing. Hikes straight up hills and cliffs always get to me. When we got to the top we took some photos. I accidentally got in the way of an Asian couple taking a photo (I hadn’t seen them there.)  I backed up, smiling.

I entered the museum after this and I fell in love with their black and white pottery which looked so much like some of my own artwork it was a bit eerie. Here they had all sorts of things on display, a set of dioramas displaying the engineering of the structures. The fact all the Indians were depicted wearing loin cloths made me quite tweaky because if they really dressed that way they’d freeze their asses off in winter!  Surely enough the next display was on a bunch of clothes remnants archeologists had found… full clothing, head to toe. SIGH. White people are so racist. It reminded me of my grade school text books where the Native Americans celebrating the first Thanksgiving were also prancing around in loin cloths… as if! As much I am in support of such liberating clothing I’ve been in Massachusetts in November. Suffice to say if you don’t want to get frost bite on your balls you better cover up.

I also got to play “guess what the object is for” with a bunch of little items that still baffle anthropologists. I think I had good guesses… rings, game pieces, etc. It was a neat little museum.

Afterwards I decided to take the auto road, with thunder booming in the background and threatening me with rain. The first stop was an overlook of The Square House. It took all my breath away. It looked so perfect and serene sitting in the middle of a cliff. I pondered how they even got into that crevice to build it in the first place, it seemed to be a sheer surface both above and below it. The other tourists remarked how amazing it was and what a lovely surprise.

The next stop I got to see the evolution of the pueblos. They hadn’t always been on a cliff. Apparently the Anasazi were one of the first cultures out here to settle down and make permanent residences instead of living nomadically. At first they built homes underground. I got to see what was left of them. Some still had pottery in tact and venting systems. It was really neat.

I drove around and looked at these things, all under modern structures to keep them preserved. This was fortunate as by now it was pouring. The rain finally let up at the end of the road when I reached the Sun Temple. I could walk around the outside of it and then there was the most amazing thing of all… an overview of almost all the structures here in the park. There before me in the cliffs, hidden, were whole little villages and homes, scattered everywhere. It was like seeing something completely camouflaged come to life. I took photos and gawked for a very long while. The sheer engineering and beauty of these structures was more than enough to marvel at. I was very happy with the trip here.

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!


 

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