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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June 9, 2017 0

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!***

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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.

June 9, 2017 0

West Rutland Quarry – Vermont

Today I decided to venture farther than I have gone in the past few weeks and take a trip into a more Northern locality, West Rutland Vermont, to check out an abandoned quarry. I couldn’t find any photos of the quarry itself but the photos of a dilapidated old building and machinery had really peaked my interest. I had no idea if it was private or public property and decided to take a chance as I drove over two hours to get there. I was not disappointed!

Finding it was somewhat difficult. It’s a path on an old rural dirt road. There is nowhere to pull in and right in front of it there’s a No Parking sign. I pulled off somewhat up the road where there was a little turn-around. The path was behind a bunch of rocks reading, “No shooting!” which was a super comforting thought. I can’t say I found any of the buildings or machinery but the path did lead around the quarry which was gorgeous. Here there were at least six different swimming holes, all with a fantastic view. It was raining and cold and not the best day to take a plunge into the black waters but I enjoyed it just the same. It was QUIET out here and someone had obviously put a lot of time and effort into making the swimming holes safe, adding ladders and stairs. I had grown up weary of quarries, knowing only they’re very deep and teenagers drown in them like ship rats all the time but now I was staring down into my first quarry I was not overcome by fear but more an urge to jump. The water was indeed deep and black but near the edges it was a shimmering emerald green that took my breath away. Fairly sizable fish even swam back and forth eating pond skippers and Orioles flew by at terrific speeds. This was a short path, very short, but I think it was worth the drive especially since I also got to take some dramatic snaps of the surrounding area. The people near by were all super friendly too. Vermont makes my heart dance with joy.

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June 6, 2017 0

Wachusett Dam Clinton MA & Surrounding Area

I apologize for the lateness of this post considering I went here last Thursday! But that led to forty eight hours of being awake which I paid for dearly with three days worth of a migraine… and here I am, back to tell the story without barfing, so it’s all good! And even with that little set back this was a great find that I found by happenstance.

Initially I had gone to a small town I had never heard of – Harvard, to find a cemetery. As with every entry I have written on cemeteries I did not find it. Instead I grabbed a friend living nearby and said, “Let’s drive!” My intent was to pick a series of roads neither one of us were familiar with… and to visit the next cemetery we came across because why not? It was raining, cold, and miserable, but I was overjoyed to find a cemetery near the school that had some old slate stones with a series of unusual designs on them. Generally speaking slate stones are very plain, while they do sometimes have designs, doodles and geometric insignia are more than a bit odd. Clearly this artist was marching to the beat of his own drum.

And then I came across something truly peculiar – a set of two slate stones that looked like they had been put up yesterday. As it turns out they were dated to 1900. This is very weird considering slate stones were used in the 1700’s. And yet here they were, more than 100 years past the time they should have been put up – with the same classic designs on them. Makes me wonder.

From the cemetery we drove down some rural road that went on for miles past farms and woodlands alike. That’s when we came across this crazy house that looked like it was built by Pablo Picasso – doors jutted out at odd angles and windows were piled on top of each other to make a geometric jumble of strange. I literally turned around so I could stop and take this photo of this poor unsuspecting house.

We continued to drive. I had decided at some point we were close enough to Clinton to check out an abandoned train tunnel but this was merely a suggestion. In all honesty I was in it for the drive today – which I desperately needed.

“You’ve got to see the dam!”

“OK, where’s the dam?”

“You can see it from the road, we’re near it.”

“Wait, there’s parking spaces… let’s walk.”

And that’s how I found myself at the Wachussett Dam. There is indeed a tiny parking lot adjoining the road and it belongs to what is now a park. You must climb down A LOT of stairs but it’ll take you to the bottom of the dam where an old gorgeous water works building is, as well as a fountain, and what looks like a nice bike path for a less rainy day. I was having a ton of fun photographing this place… too much in fact. We were kicked out by a park ranger, sort of… he said we were free to stay if we didn’t mind heaving ourselves over the gate he was closing. I wouldn’t mind. My friend was less than athletic sooo…. we just said thank you and ambled back up those 300 steps. The ranger was a super nice guy though. He told us all about the history of the place. Apparently five towns had to be taken down and resettled so the area could be flooded. This was a water reservoir that fed all of Boston, including the more famous Quabbin water reservoir. I had NO IDEA. Also the water works down below shut down in the 40’s but before that it produced electricity for the town – and pretty much all the equipment to do that was built into the building back in those days which meant it was still there. Maybe during my next visit I will peek in the windows!

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From the Dam we ended up going back on the road and driving randomly until we hit a shop that sold grave stones. Some of their wares were in the parking lot and I found this the perfect opportunity to take a few creepy snaps… in the rain…. in the dusk…. of some gravestones. My only advice, don’t blink!

May 30, 2017 1

Plotting Some Maine Trips

If you enjoy my blog please consider helping me fund my lifelong dream of having an educational farm and check out my GoFundMe. Thank you! https://www.gofundme.com/help-fund-an-educational-farmI must admit exploring the area I live has already been so much fun but I have a bunch of requests from an assortment of different people to go on some adventures in Maine so I am in the planning stages of that right now.

When I was younger I spent nine godawful months living in central Maine without a car. To me it was a vast wasteland. I always read the license plates reading the state motto: “Vacationland” and thought it might be a more accurate if it read, “Where people come to die.” This was mostly because just about every woman I knew up there was in home care. Another friend who lived in Maine told me harrowing tales of potato picking and being stared down by pissed off Native Americans (and hey, I would be pissed off too if someone drove my ancestors off their land and relegated us to some godforsaken rocky hellhole in the northernmost part of Nowhere…)

But maybe it’s not that bleak. I have heard from a lot of wealthier tourists that Maine is drop dead gorgeous… so I must be missing something here. I have spent my afternoon and evening today researching places to go and wow, Maine is one quirky place. Of course there is much beauty to be seen on various hiking trails and parks including a “waterfall tour” I have promised one group of people. I look very much forward to that.

But Maine is more than state parks. It’s…. curious. The people there are… interesting at times. I may reside in the Live Free or Die state of New Hampshire but I think Maine maintains far more of this spirit. Over the past few hours I have read of disputes over the right to display dead seagulls, town disputes over whether or not you can build 20 foot tall metal statues of your visions from God in your yard, and yes even a half a dozen giant lobsters that all appear to be humping something. Yes, Maine is a weird place.

And if you think there’s anything going on in Maine you should just check a listing of their museums… the Sardine History Museum, The Museum of Umbrella Covers, and my personal favorite: The Maine State Prison Showroom where “trinkets and toys at lovingly hand made by maximum security prisoners!” Even that wasn’t nearly as creepy as Fawcett’s Toy museum which has me repeating an emphatic, “NOPE! NOPE! NOPE!” I mean look at their welcome sign out front… if there were ever a sign that secretly read, “Serial killers reside here,” this would be it.

But with all that being said and all jokes about Bigfoot aside I am actually really looking forward to spending some time in Maine bopping around and taking it all in – every beautiful piece of scenery and every godawful piece of metal scrap art – each and every little bit of it because there’s nowhere else in the world quite like Maine.

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!

May 23, 2017 0

Prison Camp Ruins, Rutland State Park- Rutland MA

Today I decided to check out some prison camp ruins rumored to be in Rutland State Park in Massachusetts. The directions said they were on Prison Camp Road, which was easy enough to remember but what they don’t tell you is the park is FULL of primitive dirt roads going in all directions, most of which the GPS does not recognize, and they aren’t labelled either. So this place was somewhat difficult to find but not too bad. It was a lucky day and the road I needed wasn’t gated off due to seasonal flooding as many were. The prison ruins are visible from the road and since you can only drive five miles an hour without breaking an axle it’s hard to miss.

I must say as parks go this place was drop dead gorgeous. I had only intended to check out the ruins but now I want to go back and explore every one of those dirt roads! But back to the prison…. it was built to house minor offenders, probably mostly the town drunks, and it kept them busy growing potatoes and milking cows – a field still exists and is covered in billions of dandelions this time of year. And of course this was also the location of a Tuberculosis ward. The ruins you can see from the road are of four absolutely tiny cells. I couldn’t even take a photo in them to show they were rooms and not just a wall! This place was apparently still very popular as every inch of masonry had been tagged by one sort of graffiti or another and trash was ankle deep where ever I walked. Still… that sort of adds a bit to the allure and I sure had fun snapping photos of this unusual subject matter. Three other structures were within walking distance but be forewarned — bring your bug spray! The dense vegetation tossed up many ticks.

Hikers who knew where they were going seemed to be using the roads to amble down rather than drive – which is a wonderful idea if you have a map! I drove around for a long time and passed several bridges and rivers and a few rock formations that were just to die for. This place seemed to have it all and we were out in the middle of nowhere. For as peaceful at it was there was also a very wild and untamed sense about it – maybe this was because of the occasional bits and pieces of other ruins that dotted the roads here and there – like a staircase to nowhere which was probably someone’s house at some point in history.

All and all I had am amazing day out here and wish to go back with a picnic basket! This was another win on my travels.

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May 16, 2017 0

Madame Sherri’s Castle – Chesterfield NH

UPDATE: As of July 12, 2021 half of the staircase at Madame Sherri’s castle has collapsed and there are no plans to restore it or preserve the remaining steps. The below blog entry was written before these events and we hope you can all still enjoy hiking in the area and looking at the rest of the ruins. For more information on the collapse see here.

Having failed to go to the DMV I decided to try a different DMV…. really as an excuse to see Madame Sherri’s castle. Turns out there was a line at the DMV that could have reached Texas soooo I once again skipped out on my bureaucratic duties to go gallivanting…. all I can say is it was totally worth it!

Just like last time this was not an easy find but I learned the trick. There’s a TINY parking lot (maybe fitting 10 or 15 cars max?) attached to the entrance which is directly across the road from Egypt Road. So find Egypt Road and you’re good as gold.

Madame Sherri’s castle is a ruin out in the middle of the woods that looks like a castle. In actuality it was a mansion built in the 1930’s to host flamboyant parties for an eccentric actress named Madame Sherri. Locals will tell you with a spark f mischief in their eye that the castle may have been a bit more than a place to party… they claim it was a brothel. Now I don’t know too much about that but what I do know is it fell into disrepair and then burned down in the 1960’s. Now all that is left of it is a stunning rock staircase that goes nowhere and other bits and pieces of the walls and foundation. Even better there is a state forest surrounding it and lots of lovely trails to hike all around it. I took Annie’s Loop Trail today. It was… a moderate hike… Lots of hills, roots jutting out of the ground, some flooding, and lots of rocks that needed to be climbed over. With that being said I was passed by no less than four ladies in their golden years, a visibly pregnant woman, and a series of small dogs… so the trail couldn’t have been that bad! One of the women was sure to stop me and randomly tell me I was pretty. This made me smile. You meet the sweetest people on these trails sometime! This was just a reminder – if you can make someone’s day with such a small gesture, do it!

It was a great day, a real hike, lots of gorgeous mountain scenery including all sorts of creeks, gullies, wee damns, and tiny ponds. The ruins were spectacular and made for a wonderful photographic opportunity, and the people who were on the trail were all very happy and enthusiastic individuals. There wasn’t much to love about this place and I am sure I will be back! (Also the graffiti seemed to be oddly humorous throughout. I haven’t noticed this before…)

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Update: I went back to Madame Sherri’s castle to share it with my mother and a friend on 5/23/2017. Took a few more candid snaps.

May 4, 2017 0

Leominster MA – Historic Cemeteries

It was gorgeous out today and well worth wandering. I left the house to explore some odd corners of Leominster. I had heard a rumor there’s a stone in one of their cemeteries that belongs to a man who had it inscribed with, “Was persecuted for the beard.” Apparently he had a luscious beard. And people didn’t like that. The story gets so bizarre I really wanted to see his stone but the directions I had to the unnamed cemetery were atrocious. I turned around in many a good fellow’s driveway. And just as I was about to give up I found myself parked directly across from a cemetery that seemed somewhat hidden behind a big stone wall adjoining a park. Off I went!

It turns out the park and cemetery are adjoined. The park was once a military training ground for soldiers as far back as 1812. The cemetery was older. It was filled with absolutely pristine and ornately carved slate stones from the 1700’s. According to the plaque this was Pine Grove Cemetery and buried there were no less than ninety-four minute men. This is a Revolutionary War buff’s dream. And I will be damned! In yet another clusterfuck I forgot the camera and the pennies I like to leave as a sign of respect. So I took these photos with my broken phone and they probably aren’t great but they do show the exquisite attention to detail… even the poems are still clearly legible.

We didn’t find our bearded man here so after a nice walk I drove off and bumped into another cemetery not far away – the Saint Leo Cemetery. This was a much larger cemetery that reminded me a lot of the moneyed cemeteries you find in Lowell MA and Rochester NY. Big beautiful monuments, angels weeping, cherubs lurking behind every dark corner, Greek styled women in mourning towering over the stones, and even a huge mausoleum. I can think of no better way to while away an afternoon.

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April 23, 2017 0

Cemetery at Old Centre Royalston MA

If only you could read my resume. It would have a lot of life experience, a whole ton of odd stories, a dizzying collection of skills, and yet nothing you could possibly use to hire me for anything. Cemeteries are a good way of illustrating this because I have volunteered many a summer day to archive them. I know, you’re scrunching your nose wondering what exactly that means… It means I went out with a group of other women who were super into genealogy (which sadly, I am not) and we toured all the old cemeteries in the area, scribbling on outdated maps and tattered notebooks a few key details – where each stone was placed, what they were made of, what they read, and any other notes. These were being compiled for a book for prosperity – almost finished but not published yet.

I was the youngest on the crew in those days so my eyes were of more use than anything else. I was given the stones everyone else had given up on – the markers who were so worn down by wind and weather that they were virtually impossible to read. I LOVED this work. Sometimes I spent as much as forty five minutes trying to hobble together what one stone read, a task that took particularly long because old stones in New England often have whole poems inscribed on them. Often they’re beautiful rhyming quatrains, elegantly written in the vocabulary of the day, which makes trying to figure out what they say even more difficult. Luckily I had some practice in Old English and knew a few tricks (like old F’s look like S’s and words like “warbled” are nearly obsolete but real.)

I can’t tell you how great this experience was. I learned so much about local history doing this. I jotted down the graves of Revolutionary War soldiers, I witnessed in writing the lives and deaths of slaves (yes, New England had those too,) I got to see the profound effects of dysentery which killed a great deal of children under the age of ten, I also read on various stones about children dying in factory accidents, old women spontaneously combusting, and even a note to someone who had claimed to invent powdered milk. And if all that wasn’t enough I became familiar with the art – as many of these stones had intricate and eerie carvings of weeping willows, urns, bundles of wheat, cherubs, and skulls.

Imagine our surprise when we were driving to Doane’s Falls and stumbled upon a cemetery we hadn’t archived. I was thrilled, I can’t say the woman that organizes these little ventures was quite as much. This was a large cemetery and she thought she was done! We parked the car and took a quick jaunt to see if maybe she had just forgotten this place but nothing seemed to trigger her memory. I took a few photos and this is really what New England is all about – history, art, poetry, nature, and look at those stone walls in the background. I would miss those dearly if I ever left this place.

I will be writing a further entry if in fact we haven’t archived this cemetery because that means I will be back for a far closer look!

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!

April 20, 2017 0

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…

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!

July 15, 2011 0