We had a WONDERFUL day exploring Sleepy Hollow New York earlier on in the day and we thought that was it. I had a pounding migraine, we’d been driving for 4 hours but when we saw this LIT UP driveway on the way home we had to check it out. I literally turned my head achy ass around to go in. (106 Ten Rod Road Exeter RI)
As you enter there are signs asking you to turn your headlights off and stay in the car. This place was LIT. Just about every blow up Halloween decoration you could think of lined both sides of this driveway all illuminated with lights. Two other lookeyloos were already driving along. There was a donation box at the end of the driveway in front of an open barn FULL of huge Halloween decorations as well.
My dearest tried taking photos but I was driving instead of stopping and most came out blurry. My brain was FRIED from a whole day of migraining and he’s just too damn polite to yell at me.
In any event if you find yourself in Exeter this is worth a detour!!
It was another day just wandering around looking for some good trails to explore when I came across the Weetamoo Woods. Strange name, I thought, as I wandered in. As it turns out this gorgeous scenery came with a gruesome and perhaps entirely regrettable historical narrative.
I had no idea this was somewhere that was tainted with the blood spilled during the King Philip’s War. More so I had never heard the name Weetamoo before. As it turns out she was a woman chef of the Pocasset tribe. She led several hundred men in her own army during King Philip’s War against the colonists. And King Philip – he was her brother-in-law during her third marriage (of five.) Her leadership was largely unrecognized by the white settlers because of her being a woman but she fought valiantly in her short life. Unfortunately, she was eventually cornered by the colonists during King Philip’s War, drowned, and her corpse defiled. They brought her head to be displayed to the public on a pike in Taunton Massachusetts. And her children who had been caught alive? Sold into slavery. Most of this story was narrated on a plaque at the entrance.
Dark. Morbid. And wholly unjustified. No wonder they don’t teach us about what really happened in those early years of our nation during our schooling. It’s much more comforting to just go on believing in the Thanksgiving Story. Everyone being nice to each other…
I was struck by this story. This woman was a force in her own right, and she had followed her heart, led her people, and fought with everything she had. And now I was here, near where she died, just casually ambling through a patch of woods we’ve named after her. I was humbled.
Since I was alone on this particular day and lacking someone with a sense of direction, I decided to stay on the yellow path which cut straight through the forest before ending some ways out. Although I could still hear traffic for quite a while these woods seemed more remote than they were. A few big, gnarled trees took on an appropriately creepy vibe. Most people don’t realize that the trees in these parts used to be huge I mean with trunks you could wrap several people around in a hug – the sort of thing we normally only think of existing in the Redwood Forest on the opposite coast of our country. White settlers cut pretty much every last one of them down. I’ve yet to see any evidence of a tree older than these times but before the settlers trees were so big because they were allowed to grow for hundreds, perhaps even thousands of years. Everything you see today is new growth. Trees that began their life after everything else was cut down.
I pondered how different these woods must have looked then during Weetamoo’s life in the mid 1600’s. Were they scary? Perhaps even haunted? I couldn’t blame them if they were. I made sure to talk to the trees a bit and thank them for such a beautiful trail. Whether you believe someone is listening or not doesn’t matter. It never hurts to be kind in these situations. Kind and grateful.
I wasn’t the only out on this day. Lots of people had come with their dogs and they were passing me like no one’s business as I struggled to keep going. My body has not been happy with my recent attempts at getting back into shape and was pitching a fit as it usually does – overheating and stabbing me in the side with sharp pains. I stopped several times to sit on rocks and eventually turned around before finding the end of the trail because by then it was getting dark and I didn’t want to be stuck in the woods with no sweater or jacket for the night. Especially in woods with such a gruesome history. No… I have my limits.
That being said I really enjoyed this trail. It was pretty wet at parts, but it was gorgeous and easy to hike. And all the people with their sweet little dogs? Bonus. Definitely a puppy bonus.
You ever have one of those days where you just have a complete meltdown because of things out of your control and then you ask the universe for some guidance and end up somewhere wonderful? That would have been today for me. Serendipitous, you may say. Earlier on in the day I thought I was near my journey’s end when it came to me being a medical mystery for the past 20+ years but the rheumatologist I went to disagreed and I felt like I’d slammed into a concrete wall for the last time. I went out into the parking lot and yelled in my car and then tried to drive home but then I realized NO, I was not going to go home defeated. I needed to find my inner Zen, recenter, be a peace with the universe. So, I asked the Universe to guide me to a good trail.
And when the time felt right I took one of those fateful detours up a random road which turned out to be Mt Lebanon Road. In less than a mile I got what I asked for. A trail. A trail I knew nothing about as I don’t live in the area. It found me. I parked and headed in. And whew! This trail was… how shall we put this politely? Rugged. Untamed. Quiet. Although it seemed to be near a neighborhood all I could hear were the chipmunks screaming at me and the birds above. No one else was here. This was PERFECT. An answer to my prayers.
I toddled in with the wonder of a small child. And before I knew it the aggravations of the day started to fade and I found myself at the feet of some very colorful autumn trees and then little creatures started to show themselves. Fuzzy caterpillars of all kinds, a darling little tree frog, more irate chipmunks, a pair of mourning doves, and a night crawler so big I thought it was a snake! I felt blessed, quiet, at peace. I looked up to see a dead tree which still had one living branch, really a whole new baby tree, jutting out from it far above my head. I know it seems silly but this seemed like another sign – to keep going, to never stop fighting for myself. Before the day was out I would find another dead tree that seemed oddly significant. It was bendy, really bendy, almost serpentine as it snaked up towards the sky in an S pattern. Normally I’d just say that was a weird tree but that diagnosis I was seeking earlier was for EDS – a disease punctuated by hypermobility. I.e. people with it are bendy. Too bendy.
When I fell tired I perched myself on a rock and in a calmer state than I was in earlier I made a little video about why this particular doctor’s appointment was so frustrating. And the trees listened. And so did a few people on TikTok. I felt better. A lot better. And then I went back to wandering this ill marked trail, eventually ambling off of it only to end up in someone’s back yard staring at a staircase to the road. I turned around, completed the North Trail loop, and because I have NO sense of direction I ended up back at in those poor people’s back yard before correcting my route and finally finding the car. I was spent, feeling a bit foolish, but I’d returned to my happy self.
Which brings me back to this weird review of the trail. If you happen to be in the area looking for a moderate trail with little to no traffic and a few pretty scenes check it out! See if you can find your Zen here too. And for those of you who have been reading this blog and want to see the videos I took of my little 2 part meltdown feel free. I’ll include them after the pretty pictures. Much love to all of you!
Today was a weird day. I knew I needed a walk but I didn’t want to go too far and besides this I knew my mother could do with an outing as well. So I grabbed her and we headed out to the Rindge Town Forest. When I got there all I saw was an unmarked dirt road (driveway?) with a lot of no trespassing signs on both sides. She was not in the mood to push this so we went back to Converse Meadow and I used this opportunity to check out the last little bit of this loop that I did not get to see on previous occasions.
As it turns out McGregor Pond is like a 250-foot offshoot trail off the normal loop. It was SHORT but that was perfectly OK! We were happy to find a bench there and we sat and chatted while looking over this pretty little scene. Actually it was just the right amount of walking for her so it all worked out well. As it is Autumn the weather was perfect and the trees were beautiful. I had a really lovely time and if you happen to be in the area doing this loop, make sure to check out the McGregor Pond offshoot!
Its funny when you finally notice the things you have passed by dozens of times. Endless Treasures was deffinately that but to be fair I dont think its been there for that long.
This place was an absolute trip. The sign out front reads, “Group Shop – Consignment – Vintage – Collectibles – Antiques – Thrift Items.” And it didn’t lie! Never have I seen a shop so uncertain of what it actually was. Was it an antique store? An artist friendly market? A thrift store? ALL OF THE ABOVE!
And because it was having such an intense identity crisis it was an adventure walking through the isles. I must say there was a surprising amount of nice furniture for exceptionally decent prices. Mixed in with these were genuine antiques like a series of old wooden canary cages whose labels read bafflingly, “European bird house.” And then there was an assortment of bizarre DIY folk art and retro Halloween decorations dotting several of the vendor booths.
And then I found the weirdest thing to take home. It was so funny I took a video.
Main street antique stores with well-arranged display cases are fun but as for myself I prefer the quirkier establishments – basement antiques, mill antiques, and of course barn antiques. Much to my delight this store was in a barn out back of a cute little B&B. It was so quintessentially White Mountain-y.
And for being a barn it was WELL ventilated and cool. We saw all sorts of antiques, most of which were clearly linked to the local area. Ancient toys, old farming tools, a couple accordions, even a wooden opium pillow. What wasn’t to love? It was halfway like shopping and halfway like visiting a roadside country museum. I loved every bit of this place from its rustic inventory, to the chickens out back, to the cute little inn next door. It was the perfect way to end our journey into the white mountains and if you’re in the area go check it out! It’s a lot of fun!
We were having such a great day we weren’t ready to go home just yet so we looked up another antique store and found the Rockin’ Thru the Ages Antiques which was… an absolute riot. LOVED this place! It was the only antique store I’ve ever been to that had mini golf course out the back door. And inside? A rock wall. Clearly this place used to be something else but now it was an antique store I was loving how quirky it was.
This place was after my heart when right at the entrance there was two ventriloquist dummies sitting on the floor, slack-jawed, just gawking at people coming in. One was a Howdy Doody and the other was the same dummy I keep finding and not being able to buy. He was fully intact and only $35 and obviously almost came home with me. Only reason he didn’t was because he ended up being a pull string doll instead of a proper ventriloquist dummy. SIGH. SO CLOSE.
The main floor of this place was nice, spacious, good variety of things. My companion was a little weirded out by the display case of Nazi medals at the back. I was more freaked out by the wrought iron handcuffs that had a little label stating they were from a prison back in the day. Clearly an otherwise bright and happy store had this weird corner of human depravity. We shuffled off.
Downstairs was more fun because it was the epitome of basement antiques. SO MANY CLOWNS. And they were all hobos. Why? NO IDEA. I was already working through my own hobo related trauma after learning Candy Mountain, that sweet, adorable children’s song, actually had several lyrics that were censored from the final cut. Basically, it was narrated by a runaway boy telling a hobo pedophile to fuck off. And that’s what I was thinking about when I saw the hobo clowns. Adding clown make-up to the mix did not help.
All kidding aside this place had some weird things including a leather wine holder in the shape of a rooster. And the prices were unbeatable. I found an antique ceramic Jack-O-Lantern and brought him home for $5.
You find the weirdest things when you’re not looking for anything in particular. I remember reading something that was basically a whole belief system based on the power of going on daily walks. And you know what? As kooky as it sounds I’m not going to disbelieve there isn’t some whimsical hand of chaos at play here.
A great example of this was Defiant Records and Craft Beer. I am a teetotaler. I do not go to bars. But on this day we were walking down the street exploring and on the look out for a bathroom. We thought this establishment might be obliging to such a thing and they were! ‘Course there was only one stall so as I waited for my companion I was left to look around and this place… it was nice! A sweet little hipster bar in the middle of Laconia selling used records in the back for five bucks a pop. How cute is that?? Also loved the bloody Jason mannikin at the entrance.
I don’t know man, if I were into alcohol or looking to cruise for a date in the area this might be a fun little stop.
After spending a delightful afternoon in the Laconia Antique Center we decided to continue the day by taking a stroll down the street to see what Laconia had to offer. It’s always a fun way to get to know the personality of a town. So, with nothing in mind we ambled aimlessly and found a sweet little record shop.
I love going into these places. They’re usually super small, cramped, dark little dungeons full of old records in milk crates. This place… it was quite a bit more modern. It was well lit with an open-air feel. Records were scattered in various parts of the shop but the rest had musical instruments, supplies, CDs, and other media. It was like a tiny musical Woolworths. With interesting decorating style as the walls were plastered with music posters and similar imagery.
I don’t know if this place takes part in Record Store Day but it should. It’d be a nice stop!
The last few independent bookstores we wandered into were… underwhelming. I think they were going out of business. So, it was refreshing to find a little bookstore that actually seemed to be doing well. This was an adorable little main street bookshop. It wasn’t big but the variety was nice. They even had a small game section, some plushies, and children’s room out back but I was too distracted by the local history section. What a selection! This place knew I was coming!
I ended up with THREE local history books relating to the cemeteries, folklore, and fantastic events. I felt that they might be great inspiration for further travel adventures. And we shall see! I had to leave after finding three books because if I didn’t, I would have bought that whole shelf.
The woman at the counter was very sweet and gave me a cool extra sturdy bag because I said I was just travelling through and walking through the streets finding different shops. It was great because we weren’t anywhere near the car anymore and it held all my books with ease. I think I’ll be stopping in here again in the future to paw through the local history section again. Never have I seen such a great selection!
