Tag: Recreation

Sleepy Hollow Cemetery/Author’s Ridge – Concord MA

*Scroll to the bottom for photos or enjoy a good read below.

A few weeks ago I heard a book calling out to me as I strolled haplessly through a Barnes and Noble. It was titled Over my Dead Body and it was all about the evolution of the garden cemeteries starting in Paris and working their way over here to the United States. It was a very informative (and often funny) read which mentioned a lot of cemeteries here in New England, one of which I’d never been to before.
So that’s how I ended up at the Sleepy Hollow Cemetery in Concord Massachusetts last week. It’s the home of Author’s Ridge which is where Lousia May Alcott author of Little Women, Henry David Thoreau author of Walden or Life in the Woods, Ralph Waldo Emmerson the poet, essayist, and philosopher, and Nathaniel Hawthorne the author of the Scarlet Letter and The House of Seven Gables are all buried quite close to each other.

Honestly it was weird I didn’t know about this place before seeing as I am constantly enamored with authors, cemeteries, and history. Still. Sleepy Hollow is a large cemetery with clearly marked signs leading to Author’s Ridge and scant parking so keep that in mind if you visit.

So how did all these icons of their era end up buried in a row? Simple, they weren’t. Back in the day the cemetery more or less bought their remains so they could put them here to drive-up tourism. Capitalism at its finest. Nothing is off limits. Not even celebrity corpses. But it worked! And people are STILL flocking here. Although oddly enough there were remarkably few pennies. Alcott had the most. I wonder if they weren’t being cleaned up or if this bunch just wouldn’t be fond of having pennies left for them. They seem the type…

I’d been accidentally stalking the life of Lousia May Alcott for some time weaving in and out of the strange and wonderful landmarks they had something to do with and I have been coming to learn they were a fascinating individual, possibly even a trans or non-binary icon as in their own words they declared, “‘I am more than half-persuaded that I am a man’s soul, put by some freak of nature into a woman’s body.” And they liked to be referred to as gentleman, like a boss! They were buried in a family plot with their author mother Abigail May Alcott and author sisters Elizabeth Sewell Alcott and Abigail May Alcott Nieriker. Their last remaining sister wasn’t a writer but she was inspiration for Meg in Little Women and she also resides in the family plot. Her name was Anna Bronson Alcott Pratt. Pretty hard-hitting literary family there.

Admittedly I don’t know much about Emerson, he’s flown under my radar for some reason. Though I did previously visit the former resting spot of Henry David Thoreau’s cabin in the woods aside Walden Pond. I could appreciate his deep and intense need to be one with the wilderness. However, my knee jerk reaction since childhood was to not have any real fondness for Nathaniel Hawthorne. I decided at 12 he was whiny, and my opinion has only gotten bleaker with age. He wrote The Scarlet Letter and The House of Seven Gables which is a real place and a delight to visit. He’s buried with his likely more talented writer and artist wife Sophia Amelia Peabody Hawthrone who was relocated from her original burial in London in 2006! THAT POOR DEAR.

I will note now there are other authors buried here who are not on author’s ridge. They include but may not be limited to:

  • Novelist, poet, and screenwriter Millen Brand known for his 1937 novel The Outward Room and his 1948 screenplay The Snake Pit.
  • Prominent transcendentalist, poet, and dear friend of Thoreau: William Ellery Channing whose books include “The Woodsman” (1849), “Near Home” (1858), and “The Wanderer” (1871)
  • Intrepid journalist Irene Agnes Dolores Corbally Kuhn who was the first woman to broadcast on the radio in China and whose career spanned a great many interesting topics from interviewing Charlie Chaplin and Margaret Sanger to covering the Lindbergh baby kidnapping.
  • Robin Moore – the author of The Green Berets and The French Connection
  • Franklin Benjamin Sanborne – Writer and one of the “Secret Six” who funded John Brown’s Raid on Harper Ferry sparking the Civil War. Gotta love a trouble maker!
  • Margaret Sidney – Children’s book author of The Little Peppers and How They Grew series under a penname.

Not be outdone there are other people of historical note here. In fact many of them are written up on a board near the entrance of the cemetery that also has a little map and I think a QR code for an audio tour. We decided to wander around like cracked out squirrels looking for whatever took our interest in any particular second weaving in and out of some areas several times, talking to other lost cemetery goers, and getting distracted by beautiful monuments and really ornate slate stones. So much diversity here!

As we wandered we found slates with ornate carvings – sometimes whole family crests, as well as a number of modern stones that had the deceased’s signature on them. I’ve never seen either of these before or a slab of green granite being used instead of marble. There was also Edward Nealy’s memorial which was an old indigenous mortar being currently used as birdbath. A slate stone commemorating a woman who was a teenager when the British came into the tavern she lived atop of and announced their occupation of the colonies. There was even a few Asian stones with characters on them but my two favorites were a fairly recent burial who had A TON of rocks set on top of his stone. He must have been loved by SO MANY people to have acquired that many rocks! On the complete opposite side of the spectrum I found a husband and wife drama from the 1800’s. They were in a family plot and the husband had practically his whole obituary on his stone – totally mental amount of words and aside him his wife had a matching stone that literally only ready her name, date of birth, and date of death. WOW, what happened there?! Upon closer inspection she didn’t have the same surname so I am guessing she remarried after her husband died and then came back to be buried awkwardly in the family plot. Ooooo the scandal!

But I suppose I should get back to the other famous people buried here… My favorite I think was a very unassuming one. Her name was Anne Rainsford French Bush who was the first woman to get a driver’s license! I left her a penny (as there were none there and if I am thankful for anything in this life it’s that I, as the owner of a pair of tits and a twat, have the freedom to drive a car. VERY UNDERATED RIGHT.) Not to be outdone there was also Katherine K Davis who wrote the lyrics for The Little Drummer Boy. Her stone was the hardest to find as it was a flat ground level stone and there were soooooo many ground hornets in the area. Thousands. I tried taking a photo but they were too small to pick up. You’ll just have to believe me this was the biggest swarm of ground hornets I have ever seen in my life. This cemetery is known for bird watching as migrating birds seem to love it here – I suspect many will get eaten by them in a month or two.

Daniel Chester French, the sculptor responsible for the seated Lincoln in Washing DC also shares a residence here with the other authors and artists. And in a quieter but no less important role we also found Mary Lemnist Titcomb – the creator of the first bookwagon (or bookmobile,) Elizabeth Palmer Peabody who helped create the kindergarten system in the US, William Monroe Spencer – the first man in America to manufacture graphite pencils, and Ephraim Wales Bull – who bred the first Concord grapes, and Marc and Emily Daniels – a married couple working in television as a director and camera coordinator respectively. Marc’s resume is impressive including episodes of I Love Lucy, Hogans Heros, and Star Trek and Emily was one of the first women to work behind the scenes with the cameras on shows such as I Love Lucy. Their stones were the only ones we did not find. I don’t know where they were hiding but we looked a good long time for them – with a terrible map, a confused GPS, and a broken gut instinct.

We didn’t bother to try and find the oodles of politicians and famous gun makers. Suffice to say we’re both a little weary of such things at the moment.

All and all this cemetery has soooo many historically interesting people, especially women of note as well as authors. It was on some beautiful grounds and aside from the lack of parking and the thousands of hornets it was actually really pleasant! I would highly suggest it to any cemetery or literary lover.

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Glenwood Cemetery Ashby MA

I have driven by this cemetery hundreds of times but only recently noticed it because it’s tucked away on its own little road and not something you’re likely to notice unless you’re like me – constantly on the lookout for stones. I had noticed there were a few at the top of the hill all tucked away when the leaves fell off the trees and I have been waiting all winter for the snow to melt so I could go check it out properly.

Ashby is the same town with the grave of a black revolutionary war soldier named Prince Estabrook who is literally just down the road a little bit. Very close. So I was hoping for something else cool here.

As I drove down the little dirt road that ends in the cemetery I noticed there was a house on my right and a turnoff on my left. Was the turn off parking for the cemetery? There weren’t any signs and it looked kinda sketchy ahead so I decided to park there anyway and save the Prius an embarrassing moment stuck in the mud or needing to reverse or something.

There was an old man at the entrance fixing the little fence and dealing with the egregious number of tree limbs that had come down during this past winter. He seemed grumpy at first, or maybe confused why anyone was walking up, but I gave him a big smile and said hello and he warmed up instantly. Above him a big sign read no pets allowed which is bizarre for a cemetery in the middle of nowhere that already doesn’t appear to have any regular visitors but whatever, you do you.

I then walked into the older part of the cemetery which was near the gate. Almost all marble stones from the 1800’s. Not anything particularly remarkable about any of them. Similarly, a quick check with Find A Grave told me there was no one of note in this cemetery. No one?! That’s a first! Even the tiny cemeteries usually have some town contributor or local businessman of note. There were over two and a half thousand stones here, how could none of them have anything to say??

I continued to walk. It was a nice little setting surrounded by thick woods on all sides. Then I spotted the new part of the cemetery, the section that seemed to still be taking in new residents. And for the first time since the Weeping Angels found their way onto Doctor Who in 2007 I FOUND A WEEPING ANGEL! I’d been looking in every cemetery I visited for years and although I found tons of weeping women and lots of angels I’ve never found a weeping angel. It was on a new stone. In fact it was one of only a tiny handful of stones that showed any personality at all. I got up close to it (without blinking) and saw it was the stone of a young man. I don’t know what happened to him but it seemed obvious he probably got this special treatment due to his age and perhaps the sudden circumstances of his death. It was sad but I told him he had a beautiful monument before moving on (I talk to the ‘residents’ of these cemeteries all the time – best be nice and respectful so I don’t drag anything I don’t want home.)

It was only after the weeping angel I started to see a glimmer of personality elsewhere. There was a stone that was in the shape of a horse and then off in a corner with their backs facing the rest of the graveyard I found two slates and went to investigate. They were THICK slates and I was a little shocked to find they were modern. Real modern. Set in the 1990’s but with traditional crudely drawn Cherub head decals. never seen this before but I was intrigued.

I moved back into the older bits of the cemetery and was delighted to find some more modern slates from the 1920’s-1950’s, some with crude cherub heads some with exquisitely delicate carvings of flowers. They all looked like they’d been put up yesterday. Absolutely beautiful. And then I was back at the gate having explored the whole cemetery in a pretty short time.

This was the perfect little distraction for the day I was driving by and if you’re in the area, perhaps eating at the 823 Cafe & Tavern or checking out the Old Burial Ground just up the road this might be a fun little bonus. Otherwise, it probably isn’t worth the drive…. there really wasn’t much here.

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Indian Hill Cemetery – Middletown CT

I admit I haven’t been doing as much travelling lately. Somewhere between trying (and failing) to avoid covid and being completely burned out this blog has suffered a bit of abandonment but that’s not to say I didn’t want to be out exploring. Quite frankly I need to be for my mental health!

And that’s how we ended up at the Indian Hill Cemetery in Middletown Connecticut. We had both realized that neither one of us had made it to a garden cemetery in the great state of Connecticut yet and this one popped up on Google’s suggestions. So we packed up the cat who was equally stir crazy and went on a little day trip!

Indian Hill Cemetery was said to have over 6,000 monuments with a few famous ones mixed in including two journalists – Joseph Wright Alsop (a liberal political writer who penned Matter of Fact which showed up in over 200 newspapers and whose life inspired several novels and a Broadway play) and Stewart Alsop (who co-wrote Matter of Fact with his brother and also wrote for The New York Herald Tribune and The Saturday Evening Post as well as penning three political books.) As well as one scientist – Wilbur Olin Atwater – who was an agricultural chemist who was in charge of the Department of Agriculture’s experiment stations from 1873-1907, a world known liberal economist John Kenneth Galbraith who advised presidents from Franklin D Roosevelt all the way through to Clinton! As well as a TON of congressmen and governors and a handful of Civil War veterans including Major General Joseph King Fenno Mansfield who fought and died in Antietam, and Civil War Medal of Honor recipients William Stone Hubbell and John Gideon Palmer.

It was a beautiful day for being in the middle of winter and since it was unseasonably warm there wasn’t a speck of snow around just a bunch of creepy trees which I think added to the ambiance. The cat seemed to enjoy it too with lots of open space and a vulture circling above she was cruising through that cemetery like she owned the place. So much so I wandered off on my own figuring they’d catch up.

Now Indian Hill isn’t as impressive as the other garden cemeteries I’ve been to but I might just be jaded at this point. It did have a bunch of increasingly tall monoliths and the tallest Celtic cross I’d ever seen. Plus it was situated in a hilly area behind the college that overlooked a good part of the city. I had fun taking pictures of the moon which was also out that day. It was during this time the cat got spooked and wanted nothing more to do with exploring so we were forced back into the car. Normally we would have found something else in the area to do seeing as we drove an hour and a half to get there but the cat was not settling down and growled and hissed the whole way home. What had got her knicker’s in a twist? We have no idea. But that ended our day…

I wouldn’t really go out of my way to go to this cemetery again but if you happen to be in the area or someone who is interested in the famous monuments by all means check it out! It’s not a bad cemetery it was just not as expansive or as elaborate as I’d hoped. It contained only one cherub, no angels or weeping women, and no slate either.

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Taunton Antique Center – Taunton MA

The Taunton Antique Center was another one of those crazy surprising stores that just kept going and going and going. Initially we thought it was just a modestly sized furniture based antique store off a main street because when you enter that’s all you see and it looks like that’s all there is. But once you start moving further in you realize the beautiful furniture is just one room and there’s a back room full of little things behind glass and then another room off to the side that leads into an absolute labyrinth. There were hallways and nooks, a whole section dedicated to thrift store type things and a basement that just didn’t quit. Really something for everyone!!

It was like the character of the store itself kept warping and moving as we travelled deeper into it. This place was very charismatic and absolutely INFESTED with terrifying antique horses of all shapes, sizes, and fur lengths! Some were small, some were chubby, some were big enough for a small child to ride, some had red eyes, some had soulless black holes were the eyes were supposed to go. All of them looked not quite right. And beside many there were more creepy Victorian paintings and prints – always a joy to see.

There was also a lot of chickens which made me doubly happy and even some paintings that looked medieval or at least older than the US. It was A LOT to take in. This was another one of those antique stores that could easily take up a whole afternoon and not need anything else.

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Blue Hills – Abigail Adams Trail – Milton Massachusetts

It’s come to my attention that if I don’t want to turn into a completely miserable person I need to get out into nature at least once a week when possible. So that’s what we did – this time we ended up at the Blue Hills Reservation for a day of hiking.

The weather was perfect – not too hot, not too cold, and with the trees changing into their vibrant Autumn colors it was just pure bliss to be out here. And we had also decided to bring Stormy the cat along in her little soft cat carrier in the hopes of trying out her harness for the first time.

We parked in the first parking lot we came across and tried to find a trail at random but there were a lot and many crisscrossed and none of them seemed like they were marked with titles… All we knew was that we were trying to reach the summit where there was the ruins of an old observation tower and a weather station. Upward we went!

If we are to believe the signs we only climbed about half a mile from the parking lot before we found what we came for – a big stone structure just quietly sitting in the woods surrounded by picnic tables and overlooked by a tower to one side. I chucked at the old decaying fireplace which had “No fires” written on it. This seemed to be a lovely place to play with the lighting and do a bit of whimsical and nature photography. There were other people about, some even had dogs, but everyone was pleasant and respectful. And that was all good because up until this point I had been struggling with a migraine and such intense dizziness and nausea that I had to take several breaks on my way up. I was asked why I had even bothered to go out on this day but it wasn’t that bad earlier on in the morning when we had left! Such is the nature of my life.

When we got to the top we stopped and let Stormy out of her carrier to go explore a bit with wide eyes. She was very unsure of the place but seemed to settle in a little bit until other hikers would walk by and she’d fixate on them like they were monsters come to eat her. It’s weird as we had both thought she’d been plenty exposed to people up until this point. She didn’t even seem to care about the dogs!

I left her and her human to climb to the top of the observation tower a story above. It was primitive but beautiful and the view on this Autumn day was as breath taking as you’d expect. So many vibrant trees spread over the landscape and off in the distance you could see the city of Boston. I have found Boston to be a strange place – still surrounded by a lot of woods. Eventually my companion made it up here too with the cat and we all enjoyed this great view.

The weather station was a quarter of a mile up another trail, basically just around the corner but it was being renovated and not open to visitors until 2023. Fair enough. On our way down we took the Abigail Adams Trail and ended up in a totally different parking lot, having to walk a little ways past the visitor center to a different parking lot where we found the car still minding it’s own.

This excursion was brief but very enjoyable. I would call the trail short but moderate difficulty as it was mostly a steady incline with lots of rocks with which we had to scrabble across. Not appropriate for anyone who needs a flat or very easy trail, and not enough of a challenge for people into real hiking. The perfect in between!

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Cat Hollow Park – Killingly CT

*If you’re just here for pretty pictures feel free to scroll to the gallery at the bottom, I took a lot!

You know we haven’t done all that much in Connecticut… so on this particular day that’s where we decided to poke around. Only thing is I don’t know squat about Connecticut so I had to conspire with Google. I asked for a town map because I didn’t want to drive much more than an hour. It’d already been a super packed week. On the border of Connecticut I saw Killingly and decided that sounded like a interesting town name and I asked what was there… Cat Hollow State Park was the answer. Even better it was supposed to be a park with the ruins of two old cotton mills in it.

I didn’t really know what to expect. Probably something swank, this is Connecticut after all. And the park was newly established – only running since 2003. What does a baby park look like? Wellllll….

Driving into town it was indeed a posh area filled with great big mansions behind thick brick walls and iron gates. And all the street names had hideously adorably animal names like Doghouse, Cockcrow, Cat Hollow, and my favorite Peeptoad. Did we fall into a fairy book? No, we most certainly did not, because when we drove up to the park it looked thoroughly abandoned. It was a gate across a road with one car parked in front of it, a big trail map bulletin board with NOTHING on it and I mean nothing, not so much as a scrap of paper or hint it ever said anything on it. There was a bench just beyond but it was looking at nothing except the blocked off road. What just happened?! How did we end up here??

Although not impressed by the state of this place we still decided to get out and look around. And in good spirit I decided to place one of my books on the bench to be found by some passerby as part of my book bombing campaign. Who knows, maybe someone will find it and love it.

We were a bit confused at what we saw from there. Beyond the gate it looked like a very new paved road big enough for cars but obviously not driven on by cars. Infact even though the road looked almost brand new it also looked like it’d been left over from some apocalyptic society collapse. It was odd. Not far up the path we found another bench, this one had its leg chained to a pole with no less than three locks but the pole was only 2 feet off the ground which means the chain loop could have easily been lifted over it if someone was insistent on bringing home this bench. Even funnier still the chained loop wasn’t even a loop. Upon further inspection it was just a chain placed on the ground to look like it looped around something. Very odd!

Then we started seeing the weird graffiti. Every big rock seemed to have the same image on it – that of a neon pink spraypainted figure with big X’s for eyes and a crazy hairdo that made it look either like Mom from Futurama or Nosferatu. If there’s anything I have learned in the past few years it’s that teenagers love abandoned places and things. Wherever you can find ruins in the woods you will also find great evidence of teenagers. The two for whatever reason are inseparable and these odd tags throughout the park only further proved this observation.

It wasn’t far in that we came by a fence – the most woeful fence I have ever seen in my life. Behind it there was some sort of wrought iron equipment sat on the river, maybe the remains of a water turbine or something similar. The fence did nothing to keep me away from it as just around the edge of the fence was a path where people were clearly going around to see it anyway. And beyond that there was a rough path into the wilderness which I honestly couldn’t tell if it was made by humans or deer but I figured what the hell might as well “bushwhack” our way through this as one internet guide suggested we might have to do in this park. And it wasn’t too far away that we found the first substantial set of ruins over this river.

This trail seemed to have ended at these ruins so after poking around we headed back up towards the road and continued on foot from there. Apparently, this road extended for half a mile. We wouldn’t get that far though before we found more trails jutting off the sides. We decided to take another one right around the edges of a fence that seemed to have a different set of ruins behind them. This one brought us into the woods to a very serene little spot where the river had more or less dried up so we could wander over it at will.

It was then we realized all the rocks at the bottom of this riverbed were blackened which seemed very weird. Was this some sort of pollution form the 1800’s? Probably not, after coming home I learned these mills all burned down, one as recently as 2001. You could see the charred line on some of the larger rocks a little downstream.

We walked along the river’s edge for quite a while until we came to the biggest feature of the park – a giant stone wall over the river that on a normal day is a beautiful waterfall. They must be suffering drought this year as there wasn’t so much as a trickle. There was however a young man meditating on a rock underneath it, weary of our presence. We wandered on.

I think we ended up doing the trails ass backwards because this is when we found the “picnic area” and the sign denoting the beginning of the trail being choked out by vines. This seemed fitting for this part. Here we also found more graffiti (with one rock literally looking like a kindergartner painted on it) and of course another trail that led under some bridges and out into a field on Main Street. It was cool under the bridges, and we loitered for a while digging the graffiti salamander looking down at us.

After returning from that dead end we found what looked like another trail on the high ground making jokes about bigfoot and starting to sweat from the oppressive heat and humidity. We took a few breaks and just mucked about before finding our way back from where we came. I’m told there’s a mile and a half of trails out there but every map shows something different and when we were on the ground there wasn’t any markers or guides or even any way to note when a trail had started soooo…. it was a fun place to wander but uh, poorly organized on the park’s side. That being said seeing the ruins were very cool and we both enjoyed just chilling out there in nature.

When we finally managed to find our way back to the car it was only then we found the signs saying what we could find here in the park and where to go. They were… in rough shape. Could have been used as the set of a post-apocalyptic horror movie. But hey, I guess it’s an E for Effort?

Sadly no one took my book in the two hours we spent puttering about.

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Nature’s Art Village – Oakdale CT

After melting in the intense heat in The Dinosaur Place we dragged our sorry asses across the parking lot to check out the little shops. And let me tell you – that must be where a lot of the adults go because it was still dinosaur themed but it was air conditioned and FULL of cool stuff. Obviously, there was a rock and crystal shop that was full to the brim with fossils and all manner of shiny things. They even had these gorgeous bonsai trees whose leaves were actually artfully arranged geodes. And for those of us with insanely deep pockets and a good deal of eccentricity you could buy entire dinosaur skeletons here. The triceratops was a cool $99,900. Little out of my price range… but there was also smaller fossils too, the usual assortment of fish and shells and whatnot. This included the first specimens of Madagascan trilobites I have seen in person which made me geek out for just a bit.

Almost as fun was the bead shop which… seems like a dangerous place to be if you make jewelry…luckily this is one of probably three craft related hobbies I have yet to pick up. Otherwise, I could have walked out of there with $800 of beads EASY. Seriously. There was every kind of bead you could ever want. Single beads, bulk beads, glass beads, ceramic beads, beads of every color shape and size. It was a bit dazzling.

And of course, there was a shop full of fairy themes bric-a-bracs because that just seems to fit. But the best part of all of them? THE AIR CONDITIONING. Oh my God, the sweet bliss of walking into a fridge after being steam baked by the rising humidity in the parking lot!

From here we’d move on to the antique shop…

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Dighton Rock – Dighton MA

If King Philip’s Cave was a bit of a disappointment surely we could find something else cool to see in these parts. Why not check something off my list that has been on there for a few years? Dighton Rock. Dighton Rock is a boulder that was discovered covered in all sorts of strange petroglyphs. We have no idea what it says, who made it, or why. It’s just a total mystery which of course beckons me like nothing else.

There’s a long-standing story that the indigenous people didn’t build anything out of rocks or have a written language when the colonists came over buuuuut the more I poke about New England finding curiosities like these the more I think that’s a load of hogwash. We don’t know shit about the people who lived here before us because we kinda sorta killed them off and drove any survivors away. Suffice to say whole civilizations were lost and clearly this rock was part of that.

The rock is advertised through signs on the main highways nearby and I have passed by it a number of times. It’s actually located within a park, Dighton Park, in a building that calls itself a museum that was built around it.

When we got there we parked in a parking lot that claimed it was $3 but had nowhere or no one to pay. It seemed to be a very pretty little park with lots of grass for children to run and some picnic tables near the water, all surrounded by trees. Honestly it was one of the sweetest parks I remember. There was even a young woman here at one of the picnic tables playing her guitar. She waited until we were out of sight to start singing The House of the Rising Sun but she shouldn’t have. She had a nice voice! And her guitar playing was also lovely. It echoed eerily in the air on this fine summer day.

We managed to find the museum nearby but it was all locked up. There wasn’t any opening hours posted anywhere. It was just a whole lot of nothing. When we got back to the parking lot we found a sign saying to call for opening hours so we did and got an answering machine asking to wait for a call back for an appointment. We didn’t leave our info, it seemed unlikely anyone would call back within any reasonable amount of time to come down here and unlock the museum for two out of towners. Their website claims that opening hours are dependent on local health regulations… so I am guessing Covid has struck again.

So we wandered back to the car and started driving off when my travel companion yelled, “PARK PARK!” I stopped, and parked again. He’d seen a sign reading, “Dighton Cemetery” and wanted to check it out. However, upon further inspection it read, “Former site of historic Dighton Cemetery.” In other words no stones remained. We hiked down the trail a ways anyway. It had a lot of bowed trees going over the path from both directions and I found it to be quite whimsical, but my travel companion was disappointed there wasn’t an actual cemetery. He had wanted to stumble blindly onto another sweet forgotten collection of headstones in the woods like we’d seen at Historic Cemetery 26. No such luck. As for myself I was trying to keep positive but I was suffering from heat stroke and a migraine was kicking up so we went back to the car and continued our journey to find a real cemetery to round out the day.

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King Philip’s Cave – Norton MA

On this particular day we decided to muck about the Bridgewater Triangle which is supposed to be a hot spot for ghosts, UFO’s and even Pukwudgie sightings. Pukwudgies are part of Native American folklore and are said to be small troll like creatures that lead people into the woods never to return. Sadly we didn’t go at night to poke at these phenomena but we did decide to check out a bit of indigenous history in exploring King Philip’s Cave.

King Philip was the name we gave the local chief of the Wampanoag tribe in the days of our early colonization. He was initially in favor of working with the white colonists and establishing trade but things sort of went south when we kept coming over in droves insisting the locals bow down to our rules and religion. And so “King Philip” (Metacomet) started to lead the other indigenous tribes in a war against colonist expansion.

King Philip’s Cave is where he hid during key moments during the war. We thought this might be an interesting thing to see so we prepared for a day of hiking and drove to a quaint little neighborhood on a private road that had a sign up saying, “Residents and guests only.” We decided we were guests and drove in anyway and at the end of a cul-de-sac there was a couple parking spots on the grass a big sign reading King Philip’s Cave completely obscured by another truck parked there.

We headed in and realized this wouldn’t be a day’s hike. The “cave” wasn’t far from the road at all and was just barely obscured by trees. It wasn’t a cave either, rather just a pile of glacial rocks sitting atop each other in such a way that a small tunnel was created through them. You see this sort of thing a lot around these parts and I suspect being at the end of a cul-de-sac this may have been some child’s favorite place to play. It was interesting but entirely underwhelming. There wasn’t even a plaque at the cave itself explaining it (though there was one at the entrance of the trail.) It was all very… half-assed. We’d seen this before looking at other places important in King Philip’s War and other bloody skirmishes with the people who already lived here. It’s almost like we’d like to forget it ever happened…

Luckily we had other plans that day to go see Dighton Rock and the Mayflower Hill Cemetery also in the area so the day wasn’t a complete wash.

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Casalis State Forest Route 123 Entrance – Peterborough NH

I’m not going to lie. Mentally I haven’t been doing so great lately and honestly, I am suspicious of anyone who is on top of the world right now. It’s been a rough few weeks and there has been so many people just burned out and screaming into the void as the world burns. I’m right there with them. And I know life is sucking HARD right now for a lot of us which is why I have decided I needed more trees in my life. A LOT MORE TREES. Because trees are good people. They’re quiet, they gives homes to birds, they never say anything mean, and when we’re not watching they make oxygen!

So I struck out on my own. I know for the past couple of years almost all my adventures have been with travel companions and that’s cool, I still enjoy it, but that doesn’t change the fact I still need to submit myself to the solitude of the forest on my own every now and again. So I shall be doing more hiking – as much as my angry body allows.

Today I started driving to an actual hiking destination (which is more planning than I usually put into these things) but then I got completely and utterly distracted when I found the entrance to this trail on my way. Clearly it was calling me so I had to go in. In the rain. Because it was also raining (yes, I’m that desperate to go play in the woods.)

And I must say skulking through some swampy woods in the rain was exactly what I needed. I spent two hours wandering from the route 123 entrance to the other side of the park at the Condy Road entrance. Along the way I took sooo many photos of raindrops on leaves, found a whole swarm of orange newts and said hi to every one of them, and somehow didn’t get lost even though the trail was not marked and diverged at several points. That being said it was for the most part a very flat trail with only a couple mild inclines at the beginning. I could hear cars for most of the trek but also tons of birdsong and a couple bullfrogs to boot. Someone had even brought their horse down here at some point as I found their leavings and some hoof prints. And of course, I had to pick up two dog ticks along the way. BLECK. All and all it was a nice little find and fed my soul. So if you happen to be in the area and needing a little tete a tete with nature I would suggest this happy little trail.

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