Tag: travel

Belcourt Mansion – Newport Rhode Island

I have been spending time in Newport for a few years now and although it’s known for its mansions, I had never been to any of them. So I pitched the idea that maybe we should at least look into that… and as luck would have it this happened to be just the right time of year to make a boring old mansion exciting. Why? Because it’s spooky season! And some of these mansions are supposed to be haunted. Why not go on a nighttime tour?? To one of them that the locals seemed to think was actually haunted.

That’s how we ended up at Belcourt taking a tour hosted by a documentarian who lives there on the weekend. We did learn a little bit about its history but if I am to be very frank my eyes were pretty glassed over. I just… can’t seem to muster any interest whatsoever in the dramatic lives of the long dead super wealthy. SORRY. All I got out of this is it was built at the end of the 1800’s, used to have an attached stable, and was basically used as a building for extravagant parties after a woman won it in her divorce.

And it was indeed… lavishly decorated which is what gave me the first heeby jeeby of the evening as we drove through the big iron gates and were surrounded on both sides by two huge iron horses. Being nighttime this creeped me the hell out. Small confession: I find the uber wealthy terrifying. Coming from poverty I know all too well that if you cross a super wealthy person the wrong way you can easily be disappeared. A lesson I learned while accidentally wandering into some swank rich person’s event at the Grand Canyon once. The look one of those rich assholes gave me was reminiscent of the look a wolf gives a limping lamb. Had I not been escorted by another man at the time I am not so sure I would have not been disappeared myself. Think about it – these people have so much money they can pay off anyone – witnesses, body collectors, whatever they need. This is why we’ve never had a billionaire serial killer arrested in the US. Don’t think it’s because they don’t exist. And iron gates? Holy crap does that bring this whole idea home – that no one really knows what goes on beyond them.

Luckily there were no murderous rich bastards around on this particular evening. In fact the crowd here seemed a nice mix of locals and tourists of various classes. I was excited to see what was here, although I didn’t’ really expect it to be mostly in the dark! Only the bare minimum of lights were on – but this was often because there just wasn’t any – having relied mostly on sunshine to light it up during the day. We were some of the first to show up – me without my camera, again. I don’t know where my brain has been this week, on vacation I suppose. Luckily, I still had my cellphone.

I noticed a copper chopper (say that five times fast!) sitting astutely under a chandelier in the darkened ball room. What… is that? I had to look it up later. It’s The Liberty Bike, built by the American Chopper guys with pieces from the Statue of Liberty taken during restoration. It must have been visiting? No one said anything about it but it did have its own trailer outside.

As we waited we noticed the receiving room was filled with giant mirrors. Confession number two: I don’t feel any warmer or fuzzier about mirrors than I do about rich people. AND WHY ARE THEY SO BIG?! Of course we were told one of them was haunted with orbs so we all lined up to take selfies in it as one does with a giant haunted mirror…

After this the actual tour started. Our host was energetic and clearly passionate about this place. He led us into a library that was supposed to have a poltergeist or an imp of some sort as books from it would randomly walk off and be found in other strange parts of the property – like the front lawn. Or perhaps if you were really unlucky something would occasionally pitch books at guests’ heads. I decided that if I should die and get stuck as a ghost it would be an amusing job to haunt a library and do much the same.

From here we were taken out to meet the strange throne-like chair that was supposed to be some sort of conduit to the spiritual world. We each sat in it to see if we could feel anything. I felt something – but it wasn’t ghosts – it was just a feeling of “I COULD BE KING!” You know, being as it looked like a throne… Another woman claimed it was colder in the chair and she could feel a breeze, but I was standing next to the chair and felt the same chilly draft sooo…. I’m not really convinced. This may have also been the same woman claiming to smell ghostly cigarette smoke which turned out to be my companion… who smokes.

However, the next room was a thing of terror. It was a big oval room with a seance table in the middle and surrounded on all sides BY MORE FUCKING MIRRORS. Maybe it helped the ghosts appear. We were told that this was where all the table turning happened back in the day – with this very table. *Table-turning (also known as table-tapping, table-tipping or table-tilting) is a type of séance in which participants sit around a table, place their hands on it, and wait for rotations. It was just as we were being told this that one of the doors popped open and we all looked to see who was on the other side coming through – but there was no one there. Even the host seemed weirded out by this. Despite this being a haunted mansion tour he made it clear he wanted no part in actually meeting any of the deceased residents. This made it all the funnier.

Obviously, we all had to go through that door to go to the next room which was absolutely empty as far as people were concerned. This room didn’t need a ghost to be creepy because the walls and ceiling were adorned with faces. Whhhhhhhhy, just whhhhhy.

We’d eventually find our way to a bedroom with a big old ornately carved wooden bed that screamed “fuck off and get out of my room” in grumpy old white man. I was slightly confused no one else seemed to feel this but then again – that is my life, isn’t it? Just stumbling into random things and noticing things others don’t.

The bedroom was attached to a bathroom which we all had to wander through because it had a primitive shower that looked like a torture cage lit up by red lights to make a bathtub of doom. Very catchy.

After this we entered what I can only describe as a misplaced medieval European Cathedral complete with sweeping arches and stained glass from the 15th century. And a church organ. And some suits of armor… annnnd a weapon’s case which held an ax that would “sometimes dance around the room on its own.” It must have been filled with stage fright on this particular night.

Then we got to go upstairs and look down into this weird cathedral room from the big openings in the wall which…. did not have anything preventing people from just falling right out of them into the room below. No guards, no glass, just a big gaping tilted foot-level hole big enough for a body to trip through. But perhaps that’s what the little squatting monk statues were doing – making sure no one did. One of them looked like Bill Murray. I pondered about that for a moment. Comedy gargoyle? You never know.

And that was the tour. Filled with reportedly 14 or so ghosts with intensely vague backstories annnnnd some magic rocks on the outside of the building. Mmmmkay. It was a really fun little night adventure and I would recommend it to most people who love spooky season as much as me but be forewarned THERE ARE MIRRORS AND CHERUB FACES EVERYWHERE. EVERYWHERE.

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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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Antiques on the Farmington – Canton CT

Antiques on the Farmington was located in an old mill – which adds so much to its charm. It was another sprawling place just oozing character. The first thing I noticed was a large amount of little wrought iron piggy banks with moving features. There was the usual clown eating coins and a poodle jumping through a hoop but my favorite was just downright bizarre. It was a small child sitting across from a dentist with a tooth in his hand and you basically fed the small child coins and it’d make it look like the dentist was pulling the tooth out of the poor dear’s mouth! Just WHY would anyone make one of these?? If I realized how cheap it was (a mere $25 – I guess no one wants a piggy bank of dental horror) I may have brought it home. Someday when I have a home of my own… well, there’s going to be a lot of conversation starters just lying about. That’s all I’m saying.

In fact everything I looked at here was super decently priced. There was a sharp scythe that was $25 and even a cricket bat for $35. I’d been looking for one of those… not because I want to play cricket but because I had a morbid curiosity having never seen one but knowing they make great rug beaters… And should I have owned a big oriental rug in need of a violent dusting it would have also come home with me. Did you know they’re rounded on one side? I did not. See, we’re learning things! And hey, if you like British antiques there was an actual pith helmet nearby. Sadly, there weren’t any tiger bite marks in it but that doesn’t mean much. Poor beastie could have slinked away from those big game hunters, you don’t know.

This place also had a lot of… creations. Folk art if you will. I LOVED the mannikin Christmas tree, all the angry chickens, the Victorian nightgown labelled “wedding dress” that looked perfect to haunt people in, the weird asparagus knickknack, and an old black and white photo of a foofy little dog labelled on the back, “Cuddles, our first dog.” HEART MELTING. That was only $2. I seriously contemplated buying it but thought it was a little weird to buy a photo of what is now a very very dead dog for whom I never met. Was super cute though.

And the best and most serendipitous part of the trip? There was a little free library right across the way. I left one of my signed books. It was meant to be.

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Collinsville Antiques- New Hartford CT

Twas another rainy day when we struck out to find an antique store worth travelling to having exhausted most options in Rhode Island. To Connecticut! And maybe if it stops raining we could find a nice hike. Spoiler alert, it didn’t, and I was still having flashbacks of the flash flooding from a week previous which nearly drowned the Prius as I hydroplaned from pothole to pothole. Got to my destination by the skin of my teeth AGAIN.

BUT ANYWAY. Collinsville Antiques was chosen partially at random but really because Google searches made it look big. And worth driving the two hours there (and the two hours back… did I mention we’d run dry of local options? Thank God I have a Prius.)

It was indeed a large place – sort of bargain basement of antiques LOADED with creepy dolls including a life-sized Jester hovering over our heads ready to pounce on anyone going by – probably waiting to suck someone’s soul out or some such. He was accompanied by a six-foot Gumby doll which… in retrospect made it even more odd. But what can you expect from a place that had a life size gypsy fortune teller doll? But the weirdest doll had to be a male mammie doll. Well, technically it was a couple mammie dolls all snuggled together but one of the two was definitely a dude and I have to say I’ve never seen that before! Not that it makes it any less racist. And I have to give credit where credit is due. This was the first antique store I’ve been to where the only representations of Asians were realistic and beautiful and not squinty and offensive. Also, unlike the last place we went there was a distinct lack of Nazi propaganda. Hurrah!

But aside from the cursed dolls I also loved this place for its large assortment of antique Halloween decorations and masks. There were several booths dedicated to just this and it was kind of amazing. I love retro Halloween stuff. It’s absolutely darling. And creepy! Tis the season after all.

Other happy finds were a mold for Jell-o beans (yes, beans, I do not know why,) a user’s manual for a VW bus, and a VERY badly taxidermied iguana. From here we’d decide we hadn’t had our fill yet and we’d move on to Antiques on the Farmington not too far away.

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Clinton Antique Center – Clinton CT

Last week it was raining so our adventures ended up being indoors at a few antique places. This first one in Clinton CT was another one of those TARDIS experiences – it looked bigger on this inside. In fact this place was HUGE with antiques shoved in every nook and corner and even hanging from the ceilings. And right away it showed its unique character as being absolutely stuffed to the gills with knives. And swords. And even firearms. Just a whole arsenal really – including a CANE SWORD. In case you want to be a Victorian James Bond.

I was not disappointed with the selection of creepy dolls but they were out staged by a large assortment of eccentric (and often woefully tacky) clocks. Wall clocks. Cuckoo clocks. Grandfather clocks. Watches. A Nixen dressed as Superman clock. Anything at all with which to tell the time which is ironic since the other thing we found there, scattered in a few random pieces throughout the store, was World War II artifacts including but not limited to a Nazi helmet and several things emblazoned in full swastikas.

“I didn’t know it was legal to sell that…”

“Legal? I don’t think it’s illegal… just not something most antique stores want to be associated with…”

And it’s true a lot of these places have these artifacts in the backroom only to be seen when specifically asked about or they refuse to carry them at all. Bad karma. It was a little emotionally distressing to see but I guess there’s a collector for everything and I am aware of at least a few Jewish collectors who go for these items (God knows why…) Let’s hope they were the buyers keeping them in business and not the skinheads we have all become way too accustomed to.

There was also a really well taxidermied blood hound just randomly mixed in with everything else. I ended up buying some marbles which were obviously created by some amateur with a homemade forge. They were “irregular” to say the least – an assortment of sizes, and none of them perfectly round. It was a bottle of wonky marbles. How could I leave them there?

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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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Point Judith Lighthouse/Rose Nulman Park – Narragansett RI

After the Umbrella Factory we decided we’d check out another lighthouse. Lighthouses are one of the things on my soft list – you know things to check out when they’re near other attractions we’re already at.

The Point Judith Lighthouse is famous for the fact it hosts the coast guard. As such it is not open to the public. Of course, we didn’t know that until we drove up because both of us are lousy at researching these things first. That being said it is right next to a park and a fishing spot. The park wasn’t much but a patch of grass with some benches but there were people here looking out over the ocean and it was pleasant enough for such a thing. There was also a good view of the lighthouse from here.

Would I suggest going out of your way to this destination? No, but if you’re in the area anyway and like lighthouse why not.

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The Umbrella Factory – Charlestown RI

This week’s adventure brought us to Umbrella Factory which FaceBook has been suggesting for a few weeks before it was again suggested by my hiking buddy that explored the Freetown State Forest with me. I admit I didn’t know what it was… but just the fact it came so highly recommended was all I needed.

My travel companion was even more confused. He thought we were going to an actual factory that makes umbrellas. Not quite. It was another one of those quirky little places nestled in what seems to be a residential neighborhood. There were No Parking signs half a mile up the road so this place must get craaaaazy busy.

To be honest I didn’t know what to expect either as I was just given the vaguest idea of what I was going to. And when I drove in and saw a sign reading “general store” I was like oh boy, here we go again. The general store was more of a gift store. It was small, in what looked to be a repurposed house, but boy did it have the best selection of random funny things I have seen in a long while, if ever. Far from the usual Live, Laugh, Love signs this place had everything from jokey bumper stickers, to ironically named soap, to classic rock inspired Tarot cards, and the perfect assortment of gag gifts for anyone with an off sense of humor. There was even a series of angry candles with scents that included Fuck Around & Find Out and Fuck Your Abortion Law. When the candles start getting pissed maybe it’s a sign old white men should stop legislating uteruses. Just a thought.

Upstairs seemed like a totally different adventure. Here there was a whole floor dedicated to simple musical instruments like thumb pianos and thunder tubes. Beyond them was a room full of various African art. LOVED the rooster by the way. And my companion? Well, he blew through the duck caller and when it quacked he jumped so that was funny all around. And I got to play with a wooden xylophone which always makes me stupidly happy (even though I have exactly no musical talent.)

After this we went outside and out back there was a little courtyard type thing with a flower garden, a booth for a silhouette artist, a little cafe, and some free-range chickens. Oh, and a paddock of emus. Which were thumping away. I love the weird drumming noise the females make. It’s something else. Really rubs in how much of a dinosaur those birds are.

“Where are their arms?”

“…They’re birds they don’t have arms… you mean wings? They have vestigial wings. They’re only like half a foot long though.”

I forgot how much I enjoyed free range chickens. Their behavior is so different from penned ones. So much more relaxed and happy.

Out here there was also a bamboo forest. Now I have fought bamboo my entire life. Once that shit starts growing it’s nearly goddamn impossible to kill it and it spreads and uuuuugggggghhhhh. However, I’d never let my patches of bamboo grow into a forest, nor even seen a bamboo forest before. It was… really weird. Almost like climbing through grass if I were an ant. There was a little maze out here in the bamboo with a rudimentary shelter of sorts made of stacks of the stuff. I must say it was a unique experience.

Also within this veritable little village of weird house shops there were a few hippie boutiques as well as a shop for indigenous art that seemed to be run by the local tribe. That was cool. I always like to see that.

Throughout all this we found a lot of weird things but no umbrellas for sale (‘least we missed them.) It was an adventure best summarized by my companion’s comment, “I wasn’t expecting emus today.” No, because no one expects emus.

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NecronomiCon Providence RI

I admit that conventions are not part of my world. And a horror convention seems even more out there but I like being a wild card and having someone share their special interests with me which is how I ended up here. And as an added bonus I LOVE weird people and this seemed like it might have a whole den of them.

Really my usual companion wanted to see the live radio show. He’s super into them. So on Saturday after he got off work we drove directly the convention. It would leave us plenty of time to catch the radio show. I was excited to see it too but I had to take a few days to prepare for it as I am not one for crowds. Or city life. Or people really. Got off to a bit of a bad start when we spent a TON of time in traffic which was acting insane. Usually, I can deal with this just fine but on that particular evening it put me on edge.

We parked at the mall as it was cheaper but that did mean we’d have to walk through the mall on a weekend evening and holy crap was it swarmed. I’d have trouble with this even before Covid. I carried on and did the best I could but then I had to ride an elevator, walk through one of those weird human hamster tunnels over the street, and ride several escalators – the last of which was ungodly narrow, steep, and claustrophobic. Escalators had been my nemesis since childhood and everything was setting off my sensory overload tonight.

Eventually we found a big room full of vendors with a $5 per person admittance fee. We forked it over and looked around. There was all kinds of weird betenticled art everywhere. Paintings, prints, giant plushies. It was an odd rabbit hole to fall down but a fun one. Still, this was not what we were looking for. We asked where the general admittance was and was told we’d have to walk over the Biltmore down the street which we did.

The Biltmore itself is supposed to be haunted. In fact it has such a reputation it was on my list of places to poke at even before this convention but tonight wasn’t the best night to be doing so. I walked in and there’s all sorts of absolutely garish 1920’s art nouveau architecture and design which when done well can be stunning but this place? I dunno, it just seemed so tacky to me. And disorienting. I can’t even describe how I was feeling at that point but it was almost like I was wearing those shitty drunk goggles they give children to make them not want to drink. Just everything seemed somehow off. It was a weird energy for sure – whether I can blame this on the place being haunted or just my own sensory overload I don’t know but that’s where I was at that moment.

We found the people at the take in register for the convention but they said they’d already packed up hours earlier and were no longer selling tickets or making allowances to see the radio theater. My companion was deflated. I was too. I had struggled mightily for this one and now it was a no-go. I asked if the radio theater would be there tomorrow and yes, it was a different show, but they would be there performing something. We decided to come back the next day. Let me tell you I was happy to be home after that.

Sunday came around and we headed out fairly early so we could see at least some of the short film festival at the library before the radio show. We got out on time and were able to buy tickets and even better I was feeling much less over stimulated!

We walked to the library but we were a bit early. There was a sign on the door saying it was closed on Sundays except for the convention and then in small letters that it’d be open at 12:05. it wasn’t 12:05 yet so we stood politely at the door with another man who claimed to have “just rolled down the hill” to get there. A librarian popped out and happily burbled, “Thank you for reading the sign! Everyone else has just tried to come right in!” She then highlighted the part about opening up at 12:05 before replacing it on the door. By now several more people had gathered and were now chatting about how far they travelled and then all about cats. This would be an ongoing theme on just about everyone I eavesdropped on. Who attends horror conventions you might wonder… Cat people. That’s who. I mean yeah there are those decked to the hilt in Goth gear, the heavily tattooed, those who look like they’re suffering existential dread, the odd rat enthusiast, some queer rebels, a large swath of neurodivergent peoples annnnnd amateur mycologists otherwise known as mushroom lovers. That last one caught me a bit off guard.

Finally we were allowed in and made our way to the theater – an actual tiny theater, in a library. This was new for me. And it was cute! And cozy! And Old Timey looking. And to their credit the first film they showed was suitably distressing. It was about keeping a living consciousness in a computer which is always a little unnerving but they seemed to make it over the top uncomfortable. Maybe that’s a good thing, I don’t know.

From there the films ranged from familiar old tropes, to psychological horror, to comedy horror. I was having a good time with it. And it was interesting to see just what people were doing to make these little films which had to be a shoe string budget but most you couldn’t tell. Afterwards one of the film’s creators came up to do a Q & A and my companion got into it by asking a question. I was happy to see him involved even if I myself would rather die than ask a question in a public forum. That’s just me and that’s OK.

We stuck around for block two which started with a claymation short which obviously tickled my own special interests. And there was one some time afterwards that was really low budget – just one dude sitting in front of a green screen playing with a plush bat, that actually was still amazing somehow?? And hilarious! I don’t know, I was impressed. Actually most, if not all, of the shorts kept my interest for the most part. There was a couple I was hazy on but I guess that’s just part of the experience. It was hard picking a favorite.

We decided to skip the last block of short films and instead go to grab a bite to eat before listening to a dramatic story reading before attending the radio show. So off we went. I’d read over the program schedule for fun and I was amused with a lot of the offerings. Cthulhu prayer breakfast, a lecture on missing persons, and weirdly enough a group therapy session. I guess in acknowledgment of the fact if you were here you might be the sort to benefit from a little group therapy sesh. Actually, a lot of the lectures looked super intriguing, but they were from the previous few days. They were the sort of things I could plunk myself on a seat and just spend a day listening to random lectures. Yeah, OK, maybe the crazy ticket price was worth it. There was a lot going on.

Making our way out of there I met a woman on the street who had the same cutesy baby Cthulhu T-shirt and we laughed. She asked if I’d seen the Craft-thulu T-shirt and I said I had it. It was just a weird, sweet moment – two oddballs recognizing each other’s oddness.

We ate at the mall and I picked up one of my books from the car which I’d leave on a bench in the park to be found. Part of my book bombing/book crossing campaign. The dramatic story telling was actually The Willows by Algernon Blackwood read by Robert Lloyd Perry and let me tell you – it was indeed dramatic! I was expecting a nice little relaxing story time, just sit in quiet and listen to someone read to me like I’m a child. No, not quite. It did start off nice and soft but the deeper into the story we got the more impassioned and loud our narrator and the music behind him became. This in combination with the fact they dimmed the lights set my brain off. I basically forgot where I was, immersed completely in the story, seeing it in vivid detail in place of the very real surroundings around me. I started to fidget and scratch at my skin just to keep myself grounded in reality. My companion too really enjoyed this piece. Curiously so too did a young woman wearing noise reducing headphones. She hadn’t been the only one wearing some sort of deadening device. Even I was tempted to put in ear plugs as a lot of these events were getting a bit loud for me. I wondered if these people were also somewhere on the spectrum enjoying a day out the best they could. So far the diversity of each crowd was keeping me quite happy.

And when it was all over we were in the right place to just stay for what we came for – a performance of Curse of the Yig performed by the Dark Adventure Radio Theater. I should probably note that going into this I have not been a huge fan of any kind of radio. Yes, I listened to War of the Worlds and got a good giggle in my youth but that is where my interest in this activity ended until I met my companion who has on numerous occasions shared his love of these performances by playing them in the car on our many trips. And it’s been pleasant but I still didn’t fully comprehend why seeing it live would be any better. It’s radio after all.

It started with a lot of fussing over the projector and an apology to the audience that the cast they had painfully ensured was diverse for this adaption of an H P Lovecraft story was down to a skeleton crew and just looked like a buncha white people again. It might seem like a strange thing to say but H P Lovecraft unfortunately was even a hardcore racist for his day and although there are lots of people who love his wild and whimsical style of writing there’s a lot less of us who agree with his politics. But white supremacists being who they are probably would find a good ‘hero’ in Lovecraft which is why the rest of us decent folk have to try so very hard to take the good and leave all the bad. It’s a noble effort.

Anyway, the radio drama started with just four people voicing all the parts (including the dog who barked intermittently at various scenes.) Every once in a while the projector would show something to the audience asking them to make a noise for the background. Oh, so it’s audience participation that’s different, I see. Granted all the noises were the same…. wind, the rattle of a rattlesnake, hissing… these are all the same noise. None the matter I found it adorable and quite fun. By the end I got it. It was worth coming to see live. Even better they gave the hardcore fans a ‘clue’ with which to decipher a code. My companion of course got up and asked for a code card at the end and brought it home to happily solve it. Again, it was nice to see this sort of involvement.

It was getting late when we left and my companion was concerned I’d had enough activity for one day but he did mention there was one last film showing 4 miles away at a theater. I said it’s OK, we can go check it out, and so we did. And the parking gods must have been smiling on me because there was a parking spot right near the theater that was next to an intersecting street meaning all I had to do was drive into it without properly parallel parking which I STILL have not learned how to do. No matter!

That’s how we ended up at the Dunwich Horror Picture Show. We knew this was a screening of the 1970 movie The Dunwich Horror, which is a terrible movie, but we didn’t really understand the Picture Show part of that. Rocky Horror mashup? Hard to say.

I did what I always do… looked around the audience. And that’s where I found them – a group that had been remarkably absent most of the day despite my theories they should have been everywhere – the gay men. Oh sure, I’d seen a couple adorable lesbian couples here and there but this seemed to be the hub where all the men were. Scores of them. Which made little sense to me as the Dunwich Horror is CLEARLY a film about one straight white dude’s rape fantasies (which is very in step with horror from the 70’s.) If you’re wondering why I thought such a large portion of the queer community would be at this convention it’s because I grew up in the 80’s and 90;s when every villain was still queer coded and although that was supposed to be a bad thing I also knew this backfired and many still LOVE queer coded villains. Honestly, how can you not? They’re fucking hilarious. Also so much of the crowd today seemed neurodivergent and again there’s a disproportionally large cross section of people who are both queer and neurodivergent. I was just happy my amateur psychology worked. I was comfortable here now the world made sense again. Also the theater was dark so it was kinda perfect for my nerves.

So, what was it about the Dunwich Horror that was so great? Well, it had a live band playing the soundtrack and an announcement at the beginning saying, “We know this film is terrible. Feel free to heckle it. Just make your comments funny.” And the audience complied! But that wasn’t even the best part. The best part was the wildly gesticulating people in Cthulhu costumes who’d come from the sides of the theater to do a crazed interpretive dance to distract you whenever the dream sequences got too rapey. How cool would that be just to have that on standby whenever something triggering comes up? Like no, you don’t want to look over at something potentially distressing, look over here AT THE DANCING TENTICLE MONSTER! WOOOOO!

It was all a very happy and positive experience. My companion even got to take a break to enjoy remembering some other happy memories at this theater. While doing so he tried to thank me for coming with him today to enjoy the weird things in life and I…. would have replied it was no problem if I wasn’t distracted by the John Waters Christmas poster. Now that’s a whole other brand of weird (and I’m all for it!)

All and all I am super happy we did the Dunwich Horror as it was the perfect way to end the evening and I thoroughly enjoyed it. Maybe a little too much if I’m honest. So, was it worth going into the city, a place I normally avoid? Oh yes, absolutely. And it looks like someone picked up my book that I left sooo… there’s always that.

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Freetown Fall River State Forest – Assonet MA

It’s funny, when you travel around like I do trying to hit different places every time you leave the house it pretty much ensures that someday you’ll forget where you have been and end up there again during one of those hazy deja vu moments I have become so familiar with. That was the case with the Freetown Fall River Forest. It had long been a source of fascination considering it is supposed to be the epicenter of all the weird happenings in the Bridgewater Triangle. I mean there are stories about this forest that include fairy lights, full ghostly apparitions, murders, UFO’s, bigfoot, a liberal dose of satanic panic and even the delightfully strange assortment of pukwugies – which are little anthropomorphic porcupine type creatures that shoot poisoned darts and lure people into the woods never to be seen again. They are from indigenous traditions in the area and as such are unique little cryptids.

I had a feeling I’d been here before but there wasn’t a Catching Marbles entry on it. Weird. Still, I suggested it as a place to go check out with a new travel companion who was here to meet me for a signed copy of my book. Sounded good to me so off I went…

Driving into the parking lot I remembered this place clearly. I had visited the previous autumn. We spent a few hours wandering the woods with a nonsensical trail map that neither one of us could make sense of, got lost, and eventually made our way back to the car. HMMMM. Perhaps this time would go better.

This time the park actually had quite a few other cars in it and I realized the weird parking lot actually went around corners and expanded a lot farther than I had thought. Even more interesting was a splash pad that was running with delighted children zooming through it. Still I parked near the entrance and after meeting with my hiking buddy we set off in the same direction I’d gone once before to what I now know is Bent Rim Trail. Mind you Bent Rim Trail is more of a road than a trail – no cars were allowed but we did see some cyclists.

We walked on Bent Rim Trail for awhile until we hit what looked like an actual non-road trail and we decided to try that one. There was no signs or markers but clearly this was a trail. I’d come hoping to find something weird, my friend had come hoping to find some cool plants to satiate her own special interests in biology. We were up for a brisk hike in the heat but luckily it wasn’t too bad beneath all these trees and the path was flat and easy to navigate. A few parts had rocky bits to scramble around but even that wasn’t bad. Unless you’re on a bike. Sadly, there wasn’t much in the way of plant diversity. It just seemed to be miles and miles of blueberry bushes. Although even that was kind of cool as many had blueberries on them.

Other than that the trail was pretty much a lot of the same. It was however very quiet and despite the parking lot being full of cars we didn’t hear any other people and didn’t see any either on the trip out. We continued down the path crossed the road trail twice before eventually hitting an actual road. The park is on 55,000 acres soooo how we managed to walk out of the park I don’t know. Getting back would be a challenge as we tried to get our phones to give us any clue whatsoever as to which direction we should take back. I was starting to see why this place had such a reputation for being a great hiding spot for bodies and ghost stories. Getting lost here is hideously easy and there is an odd sense you’re the only ones out here even if that’s not really true.

I have seen photos of this park that show water features and cool things. I don’t know where those are, only that we didn’t pass any. All we passed were several people walking dogs and a family taking a bike ride together who I sheepishly asked for directions from. We’d hoofed it at least four miles by that point and it was starting to get a bit dark so it was best to find the car soon. Luckily they told us vaguely where we were and how to get back. There were grid markers here and there reading numbers and letters… which would have been helpful IF THEY WERE ON ANY MAPS. Alas no.

We did end up back in the parking lot, somehow at the far side, where there was a random statue greeting people shirtless and proud. Bit weird choice but OK. Annoyingly we also found the trail maps on a bulletin board nearby which I had missed coming in, although I don’t think they would have helped much. In the meanwhile we both had a great time happily burbling about anything and everything under the sun and getting our exercise in! All and all a lovely time, even if it was super confusing and looked all the same. I can’t say I saw any bigfoot, ghosts, or UFOs but maybe you have to come at night for that?

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