Tag: travel

National Museum of Civil War Medicine – Fredrick Maryland

Initially the only thing we had planned for sure when we were talking about visiting Maryland was a visit to the National Museum of Civil War Medicine. Why? I guess because it was just morbid enough to be perfectly suited for the both of us. And it didn’t take a lot to convince our other travel companion to go along with it. History is always interesting to poke at… medical history… well, sometimes it’s just nice to be grateful we live in a time with such things as antibiotics. You know, luxury.

I remember as a kid I was singled out by the town historian to play the part of wounded Civil War soldier for some activity we were doing in grade school… I’m fuzzy on what my badge read but I think it was something like, “leg in need of amputation.” So really this was just an extension of this bizarre role play. Not to mention I’d already been to the Mutter Museum in Philly and loved it so this was going to be fun. I looked forward to seeing all the horrifying sharp and shiny medical instruments.

When we got there we very pleasantly surprised. I was expected a little back country museum with a few feeble displays but this was off what seemed a bustling street and it was several floors and even had a spacious gift shop filled with delightfully morbid things – pens in the shape of femurs, a whole library of books on the gruesome subject at hand, and a wonderful assortment of skeleton lithographs – one of which came home with me.

We learned right away that this wasn’t just the medical history museum it was also where the office of missing civil war soldiers once operated. I hadn’t really thought about this much but I guess a lot of soldiers, especially confederate ones, remained unidentified after their deaths.

I am going to admit right here and now that I know very little about the Civil War. I remember it being shoved down my throat in grade school when I was way too young to truly comprehend any of it and then it never being mentioned again. And if I want to be brutally honest this is probably the beginning of me hating school. I mean I had no interest in any of it. And this is unfortunate because I think if it was taught when I was a little older I would have been as fascinated by the human interest side of it as I am now.

With that all being said I’m sure I will say some dumb things about what I’ve learned so here we go! The museum was very well put together and had all sorts of interactive exhibits, a bunch of life size wax figurines, some dioramas, and of course a whole lotta history. Right from the get-go we were greeted by a big display called Civil War Myths and we got to read through them. One for the most repeated was that Civil War surgeons weren’t butchers or barbers, they were actual surgeons and doctors. I mean they wouldn’t stand up to scrutiny today but at the time they were the top of their field. To become a surgeon one had to attend two semesters of classes which spanned over 6 months and took two years to complete both. Granted there seemed to be little real life “practice” shall we say buuut… it was better than nothing.

Things I learned: the Civil War was the birth of the US’s ambulance system. There were a shocking amount of amputations because the bullets at the time were led and shattered upon impact rather than going straight through like modern artillery. There were women working the battlefields as nurses – some were even people of color. Some soldiers brought their entire families with them – which frequently resulted in their wives being cast in unpaid domestic chores and their children dying of dysentery and other camp plagues. Horses were so important to the war effort that the first ever sanctuary/livestock recovery farm was started to nurse injures horses and mules back to health so they could be sent back to the front lines – in the process of doing this the field of veterinary medicine expanded greatly in knowledge – well past the “Well, it’s injured, guess we have to shoot it now” mentality.

Among all the displays of sharp things there were photos of people before and after they were made prosthetics – an industry that again was founded in this tragedy. Some were profoundly disfigured and aside them there was a photo of a pile of amputated parts – feet, legs, hands. It was… honestly a bit stomach turning. And then we found the arm. An actual human arm. Mummified of course. Whose arm was it? Nobody knows! All we know is that it was plucked off a battlefield where it was lying minding it’s own business and brought home by a doctor before being eventually donated to this museum.

Who brings home an arm?!”

“Well he was a doctor…”

“AND?! Unless his name was Frankenstein that doesn’t make it any less WTF!”

We spent quite a bit of time here. It was even more morbid than I anticipated and it was very educational. Perfect for any history buff or medical student in my opinion. I would highly recommend it if you’re ever in Fredrick.

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Random Sights on the Streets of Baltimore

I’d been to Baltimore before, many years ago when Catching Marbles was super new. I had come to enjoy their aquarium which is to date still the most impressive one I have ever been to. However after the aquarium we ran out of town like our asses were on fire so I didn’t get to see much of the city. And that’s a real shame because walking around on this particular day I noticed just how beautiful it was with a playful spirit that was unique to any metropolitan area I have been in.

There were all sorts of interesting buildings with elaborate moldings far above our heads, the most intensely expensive parking garages I have ever let the Prius rest it’s sore tires in, random historic sights smattered about, and the friendliest city folk I have met in a long time! One of them was just a guy on the street who asked where we were from and then got severely confused by the concept of Rhode Island. Apparently Rhode Island is an actual island off the side of New York and not a state considerably farther north than all that. Also not an actual island. But his increasing consternation gave us all a good chuckle and me something to wonder about… why do we call it island??

We wandered several neighborhoods in search of banks and the basic necessities we all end up needing when we start traveling in a new locale. I was in love with a lot of the art I found sprinkled around. There was even a crosswalk that looked like a giant zipper. It was whimsical and fun. And we found ourselves in both well kept neighborhoods and one more questionable one as we made our way to the Westminster Hall Cemetery where Edgar Poe was buried. I snapped photos of anything interesting that I saw which is in the gallery below.

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Busting out of New England! To Maryland I go!

I am just writing this quick entry to announce that this week I will be doing something a little different with this blog. Since I was invited to attend a wedding in Maryland I decided to take a few days off and poke around Baltimore and Fredric. I had a lot of fun with great people and destinations and took enough photos to make you cry. We ended up everywhere – at museums, battlefields, escape rooms, some fantastic diners, antique shops, record stores, parks, and of course cemeteries. So buckle and stay tuned as I post a flurry of Maryland-based entries!

Below are some photo teases to wet your apatite.

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Douglas State Forest – Douglas MA

Since my brain hasn’t been working full capacity for A WHILE now I have been allowing other people to pick my travel destinations – which by the way keeps things interesting for sure! I end up places I wouldn’t have even thought of and that’s great! But this time around when the location was mentioned I was far less than enthusiastic about it. You see it was the tri-state marker in Douglas MA, a small town I used to live in, and the only town I can say I never wanted to step foot in again. It’s not the town, which is quaint and idealistic, but the fact I built my dream life there and then had to leave it quite suddenly and under extreme duress. You can’t really blame me for not wanting to re-traumatize myself.

But that got me to thinking that maybe avoiding psychological triggers wasn’t the healthiest way to move forward in life. And why should I? Just because someone else made my life miserable why should I let them continue to have any power over me now? I shouldn’t. Because I have every right in the world to take a peaceful hike through the woods. So I did and I am super happy with my decision because it was awesome!

Into the muck I go!

Hell, if I knew when I lived there that there was a gorgeous HUGE state forest just a mile or two from my house I would have been there every day! Of the off season anyway. I guess it’s $9 per head for Mass residents and $30 a head for out-of-staters to get a day pass there during the on season. Little too rich for my blood but that’s only because I’m poor. Luckily for all of us we went during the off season when it’s free to everyone.

This place was whimsy central. The fall foliage was almost at it’s peak and everything was yellow with bursts of red and I can’t tell you how many mushrooms we found. Hundreds. All different kinds and colors – purple, red, pink, yellow, white, brown, and even some that looked like full sized pancakes on stalks! There were even mushrooms in every stage of life – a great deal of them having melted into gooey black puddles. I was just happy to be out with a party that seemed just as impressed with them as I was. And there was wildlife too. Before we even reached the proper trail I found a little red bellied snake just off the parking lot and there were salamanders and birds galore. And interestingly enough we also found a bunch of old foundations to what I am guessing were houses at one point. They were a delightful surprise. I have tried to look up information about them but no one’s been forthcoming and all I could really figure out was the forest was created in the 1930’s so the foundations had to have predated that.

We were all having a lot of fun but that’s not to say the journey wasn’t without it’s troubles. For one we didn’t have good directions at all and the 5.4 mile loop to the tri-state marker that we were promised was… how shall we say… not as straight forward as it seemed. It took several turns onto different trails and somewhere along the way we must have messed up because when we did find a marker it wasn’t the one we were looking for… it only marked the Massachusetts Rhode Island boundary. But we thought we found it and headed back to the car after many miles of hiking. By this point I decided I didn’t feel like dancing around the flooded parts of the path so I took off my shoes and went straight through the water. This was fine until I went through one puddle that went for quite a stretch and the water came almost up to my knees at points. Of course being a puddle and not clear water I couldn’t see where my feet were going and it was a rocky bottom making navigation challenging. Still, even though I was painfully slow, I didn’t regret my decision at all. That ice cold water cooled me down and indulged my inner child who found the splashing hilariously fun. By this time our party of four had whittled down to a party of three and I was struggling to keep up as my energy was going down to 3%. I’d pay for this dearly in the days afterwards but I still think it was worth it. My hiking companions were also not unfazed as the mosquitos were so thick on this day they nearly sucked us all dry. Little bizarre for mid October but OK! I don’t think my camera appreciated the trek very much unbeknownst to me it was throwing a fit the whole time and all my photos came out blurry. I apologize they are not as crisp and professional as other entries.

All and all this place was beautiful and I would happily return – maybe even finding the right marker this time! I highly suggest it to anyone who loves hiking, swimming, boating, or even horseback riding (as there was much evidence other horses had been through here.)

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Dinosaur Footprints – Holyoke MA

During our last visit to the Eyrie House Ruins we noticed a sign aside the road promising dinosaur footprints. We didn’t have the energy to check it out then but this time we did! And of course with four people this time half the group was less than thrilled at the idea of more hiking. However the sign said it was maybe 300 feet to the destination at hand… which is nothing. So off we went!

And we ended up in this weird little rock outcropping with a mural of dinosaurs on it. We were still missing the point until one of us yelled, “Oh my God, there really are dinosaurs!” And looking down there were in fact a series of tracks from several different kinds of dinosaurs. They were eroded from being in the elements but still visible if you knew what you were looking for. Is it worth going out just for this? Maybe not, but it is totally worth a detour if you’re in the area anyway…

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Eyrie House Ruins & Goat’s Peak Tower – Holyoke MA

This week I returned to the Eyrie House ruins.. and I know you’re saying, “Returned? When did you go the first time?” I went early in the summer months and it was such a bad trip I decided not to write a blog entry and deter anyone from going up there. Suffice to say my super unfit ass had a HARD time getting up there and overheated so badly that I ended up horking up my lunch in the woods. From there I met a sweet old hippie woman on a break coming down that I spent an hour talking to and then we got locked in the park… because we reached the gate five minutes past closing… And in all that time I took almost no photos because I was too concentrated on not dying.

I promised we could return when I was in better shape and to be honest I was a little iffy when it came up again. Not that it wasn’t nice… just… you know, when things go that badly the first time it doesn’t really give you much motive to want to try again. However, this time we were bringing two friends with us – one with a fucked up leg and another who by their own admission had let the quarantine weight we’ve all gained go a little too far. Now that there was the possibility of not being the weakest on the team (for the first time ever!) I was feeling hopeful.

So we got there earlier this time, lunches already in hand, and met the hill.

“This is the hill? This is nothing. It’s maybe a 30 degree incline.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said… but IT KEEPS GOING.” [and going and going.] The sign at the beginning claims it’s a little more than a mile. The Internet on the other hand says it’s a 2.4 mile trail.

Sure enough that little hill didn’t stop. And despite being the middle of goddamn fall the temperature was SEVENTY-FOUR degrees out. But at least it wasn’t muggy like the first time! Still, our guests needed a break. A few breaks really. Until we hit a little turn off trail called the Goat’s Peak trail. It led to a nearby viewing tower.

Of course my usual travel companion wanted to take this detour and see what was there. Claiming the usual, “It has to be just right there… how far could it be?!”

Not surprisingly to me it wasn’t just right there and it was a mini hike all on it’s own. The Internet agrees it was a mile and a half added to our trek. In any event only three of us made it to the tower and of those three I was the only one to make it all the way up. Fatigue and vertigo had taken out the others.

I’m not going to say it wasn’t scary climbing up there – because it really was. The steps and platforms were all see-through grates which gave the uneasy feeling you were climbing into the air. And it was four sets of stairs before the top. I took my time and got there. And I must say the view was GORGEOUS. I could see for miles and miles. There were houses and churches, a water tower, a ski slope, some farm land and just as I was fucking around trying to make a panoramic photo with my cell phone a turkey vulture flew right by me at eye level only a few feet away. It was HUUUUGE. Like watching a pterodactyl in it’s natural habitat. But of course by the time I got my real camera untangled it was far away again. Shame, would have been an awesome photo! Instead I took a photo of a helicopter in the distance and one snap straight down to show how high up I was.

When I was ready to come down I was a little unsure how I was going to manage. I think the reality of being so high up was just starting to hit me and I was unsure how to go about this – do I go down backwards like a ladder? Or forwards clinging onto both rails for dear life and hitting each step with both feet like a toddler learning to walk? I chose the latter. And I was OK… until I hit the ground and got full on jelly legs and was barely able to stand.

“Uhhh…. I need to sit for a minute!!” My hands were shaking a bit from the adrenaline. Oh, how I missed these little random adrenaline bursts I get while travelling. When I could reliably put my legs under me again we continued on, gathering the whole crew back again and taking a few more breaks… the most amusing of which was when an 84 year old man and his dog jogged by us without so much as a drop of sweat on his brow.

Finally we made it to the old parking lot where cars used to be allowed. It was now a scenic overlook. And from there… the test really began because it wasn’t far to the ruins but it was at a much steeper incline. Even I had to bulldog this portion of the hike and I was doing really well until now!

But there at the top there is indeed the ruins of a swank hotel that burned down in 1908 after a botched horse cremation. And it’s beautiful! And it has quite a view looking out as well. We all gathered, ate our lunches, and I ran around taking photos – most of which came out super washed out because I had not intended it to be quite so glaringly sunny on that day and my camera didn’t take well to this. It’s a shame too because some of the nature shots were so pretty I was going to put them on my RedBubble shop but alas, they’re all blurry!! Foiled again!

On our way down I also found the world’s tiniest Eastern Garter Snake hatchling and picked it up. I was told this little buggar “HAD” to be in this entry so here he is in all his tiny glory. Sadly we didn’t get a photo of him with his tiny gummy mouth open yelling, “I So ScArY!!” but he totally did that too. And it was ADORABLE. I let him loose in some leaf litter of the trail.

If you’re looking for a hike to some nice ruins this is a winner – just make sure you’re in shape first!!

Views from the Trail

Views from Goat’s Peak Tower

Views of the Eyrie House Ruins

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Apple Picking at Whittle Willow’s Spring Farm in Mystic Connecticut

Thursday was my birthday but I really didn’t feel like celebrating. I have been in a stress-induced haze for a year and didn’t make my goal of publishing another book on my birthday as is the tradition I set for myself. As such I was feeling less like my birthday was about celebrating surviving another year of life and more about marking down I was another year closer to death which seemed a bit grim. And because of this I didn’t give anyone any warning it was my birthday.

I did try to figure out something cool to do but I was coming up short so I did what I always do in these situations – I left it up to the Universe – “If you want me to celebrate my birthday, you figure something out.” And it did! Sort of out of nowhere we ended up getting together with another friend who suggested we go apple picking. I haven’t been apple picking since I was just a wee one so the thought of it definitely tickled my brain. Yes, this would be the perfect way to spend my birthday – and was it ever!

We ended up going to the Wittle Willow’s Spring Farm in Mystic Connecticut. They had a lovely little farm stand set up and both an apple orchard and a pumpkin patch to pick from. They handed us some brown paper bags and off we wandered into the vague direction they were pointing. We were told there were lots of McIntosh, some Granny Smiths, some Red Delicious, and a few Golden Delicious somewhere out there. And so we wandered out into the orchard which was… not marked in any way and the trees didn’t even grow in proper rows but seemed to be dotted at random. We found some Granny Smiths but they too were not in a cluster but rather smattered about in between all the McIntosh. It was pure chaos and only about to get more chaotic.

For here in the middle of the orchard was a neatly groomed stone wall with a tiny old family cemetery within it. There was even a sign dating it to the 1700’s. How ironic is that that we went to probably the only orchard with a cemetery in it?! Obviously I was charmed. Meanwhile my companion was charmed with a singular pair tree just hanging out and chilling.

“They’re just funny looking apples.” My dry sense of humor is sometimes lost on those who have to endure it.

When we all had our paper sack loaded up we headed back to weigh and buy them. It was $1.50 a pound and we all made out like bandits. I’ll be making apple butter and probably apple sauce. There was talk of apple juice, pancakes, and pies.

And then we finished our little adventure playing with some pigs sleeping in a wallow. There were three big sows and maybe a couple dozen piglets and the farm stand was selling lettuce and corn to feed them as treats. The second they heard the first lettuce leaf being plucked off they all woke up and ran to the fence. From there it was just a feeding frenzy with the big mamas grunting in disapproval whenever the treats ran dry. The largest one seemed most insistent nuzzling the fence and grunting. She reminded me of a dog with weirdly human looking eyes. The whole scene reminded me of the happy days I lived on a farm throwing one grape at a time into the chicken pen and watching 50 or so hens all make a mad dash for it. Someday I will return to this life but for now I found it very cathartic to just visit.

Our adventures were just starting for the day because after this we wanted to go to nearby B F Clyde’s Cider Mill where I was hoping to score an apple cider doughnut in lieu of a birthday cake.

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B-52 Crash Site – Greenville Maine

Did you know there are numerous airplane crash sites in the woods you can still hike to all over New England? I have wanted to visit one for a long time now but most of them are pretty intense hikes into the mountains which I knew I couldn’t physically do… but the B-52 crash site in Greenville is practically right off the parking lot so it was the optimum amount of difficulty for me!

And the story surrounding it is more exciting than an Indiana Jones adventure. On January 24, 1963 a B-52C Stratofortress flew out of the Westover Airforce Base in Massachusetts. It was a training mission for six crew members and three observers to learn how to fly at low altitudes over rugged terrain to avoid RADAR detection in the Cold War effort. All was going well until the turbulence became violent enough to rip off the vertical air stabilizer which sent the plane careening into Elephant Mountain. The pilot gave the order for everyone to eject but it’d only be ten seconds between this and the plane hitting the ground. Almost everyone on board died on impact but the pilot and navigator managed to eject in time but there was a big problem here too – the pilot’s parachute didn’t deploy after ejection and he landed without it’s aid the five feet of snow below. Remarkably he only suffered a broken ankle and is the only one in US history to survive an ejection without a deployed parachute. The navigator survived with only minor injury but this was only the beginning of a miserable situation because they were six miles beyond civilization in the thick and untamed wilderness. If that wasn’t bad enough the temperature was at -15 degrees that night with a wind kicking up at 40 knots. With the added wind-chill factor this would have felt like -51F or -46C respectively. They somehow survived the night and were rescued in the morning when they could be reached.

Currently the wreckage is still six miles beyond the borders of Greenville up a series of logging roads. Having learned my lesson from my last logging road adventure I left the Prius behind and took the RAV4. This was the right idea! Several parts of the road were nearly washed out from recent rains and it got rough at points but unlike the abandoned trains the journey was relatively short and very well marked. There were signs pointing to the B52 memorial site all along the route and afterwards there were signs to guide us back to Greenville which was great because the GPS is useless on logging roads and shouldn’t be relied on in such a situation.

We weren’t the only ones there that day as several families with an inordinate amount of children were bounding out of the woods. They were respectful though, everyone was. I was shocked at the sheer carnage. You’d think that after so many decades in the wilderness that there wouldn’t be much left but actually there were pieces of metal and rubber everywhere, scattered over a disturbing distance, some pieces were still in trees. We could identify some of the wreckage but most of it was just lumps of shrapnel at this point. And that’s where the deeply unsettling thought comes to mind that airplanes are basically just tin cans we’ve convinced to stay in the air for a while.

I found the memorial to be as interesting as it was sobering and would definitely recommend it to anyone with an interest in these things. It’s near Moosehead Lake and there are a bountiful number of other things you can do in the area – hiking, camping, kayaking, and that sort of thing.

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Cliff Walk Newport RI- Part II – From Hiking Point 7-15

I told you we’d be back to take another shot at Cliff Walk. This time we almost accomplished the whole second half! But I’m getting ahead of myself…

First we figured out where we’d left off and then parked as close as we could to it in a spot that neither one of us felt was legal but you know… sometimes you just have to take the chance with the meter maids. We started near hiking point 7 – The Breakers. We’d already seen a lot of this on our first crack at it so we basically speed walked our way through all the sights and the cool egg-shaped tunnel in the rocks. This end of Cliff Walk was MUCH less populated than the other end and we were more or less alone for most of the journey with only an old hippie woman ahead of us – again beating my ass at this whole exercise thing. Damn she could ankle! SIIIIGH.

It was a hot day but there was a refreshing sea breeze coming off the water that for the most part kept me going. At other points it just smelled of rank and rotting seaweed. We were horrified to find some hikers had wandered off the path at one point to one of these little mini beaches and were swimming in the same fetid seaweed water that was giving off such an ungodly stench. It was two young women, one with a cigarette, each almost waist deep in the water squealing whenever the sea vomited up more half fermented seaweed to tangle around their legs. The chick with the cigarette raised it above her head every time the crashing tides came in. It was… a sight. And a smell!

“Oh man, they’re going to smeeeeeelllll when they get home…” Even the many dogs we had seen hiking with their masters weren’t rolling in that water – in fact they were panting off in the opposite direction – which really says something.

Newport is FULL of beaches. Most of them do not smell. In fact there were a couple other little semi private inlets on this walk alone that would have provided a better option… but to each their smelly own!

This stretch of the Cliff Walk was definitely more intense than the first half. There was a lot more scrabbling, a lot more rocks, a lot more antiquated staircases crumbling under the stresses only salt water can provide. But with these rocky stretches came new and beautiful sights. We could still see the sea angrily rushing towards shore, sometimes bringing with it piles of rocks that clacked and rumbled in the most whimsical way. There were a lot fewer birds but in their place we found a whole host of tide pools which are fun in their own right. I didn’t see too much life other than algae in them but I’m sure if I spent the time I may have found some periwinkles or itty bitty crabs or something. It’s been a dog’s year since I have gone tide pooling. It’s like looking into a little micro world you knew nothing about.

My hiking companion asked what the sea birds were. I hadn’t a clue. He’s the one that lives next to the sea! “But all I know are sea gulls and they suck.” Google later answered the question of what the big black birds having a meeting on a rock were – cormorants. Here ends all knowledge I have of said birds. They seemed chill. Certainly more so than sea gulls which let’s face it – are indeed the mosquitos of the bird world – being both obnoxious and somehow everywhere.

Meanwhile we were having fun with the more decrepit parts of the walk. We kept finding crumbled walls, bricked up stair cases, a few flits of graffiti, and random broken pipes and metal bits jutting out of the rocks off shore. It was an interesting contrast to the mansions which continued to line the path.

“Who owns that one?”

“I don’t know. I think Jay Leno has a house out here somewhere.”

“OK, I’m officially picking that one as the one the town witch lives in.”

“Why?”

“Every town needs a witch and that place looks old and beaten down.” (It did however have far more character than the better manicured mansions.)

It was wild out here – who knew that so much landscaping went into having a mansion next to the sea. We both got a good whiff of moo doo. But hey, it sure was green!

I was super proud of myself for only having to take a few very tiny breaks – and those were all due to overheating which was a vast improvement over exhaustion and pain. I still drank like a camel on leave but hey I made it! When we found ourselves at another street we decided to turn back even though the end of the trail was probably within spitting distance and you KNOW we’re going to have to go back a third time just to finish the damn thing. Point was my car was still illegally parked and we sorta needed to get back so whoosh! We waved to our new hippie friend (who had met with her family at this little cragged beach and was joining them fishing) and turned around.

All and all it was another lovely walk – this time a little better for an introvert such as myself as there were less people out here. I would still strongly suggest it if you’re in the area… just uh… be mindful of the parking situation. (And if you’re wondering – no, I did not end up with a ticket. We managed to ninja our way out of there without so much as a fuss.)

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“The Bells” Abandoned Stables Newport RI

“The Bells” were on my list of things to check out for quite a while, long before I knew a local who wanted me to go see them. That being said it was perfect going with someone who actually knew about them.

I had learned about them from Atlas Obscura and I couldn’t help but feel like the ruined and possibly haunted stables of a once grand estate sounded like a terribly fun place to check out. It’s surrounded by public land and little trails so after parking we made our way through a field to the trail which led directly to the stables with very little walking. The whimsy was overwhelming from this angle. To every side there were trees clawing their way into the structure and lush greenery creating an oddly tropical looking trail by it. It was magnificent but we were just starting.

Down one of the paths nearby, and not very much of a walk at all, there was a tower also on the grounds which you could climb to see an even more stunning view of the stables from above. From here the stables had the feel of a Gothic horror – just a castle slowly crumbling back into nature.

Afterwards we came back down and looped back past the structure. The view from the ground was a lot less dramatic but still whimsical in it’s decay. It was surrounded on all sides by a fence. Even though I am not usually one for trespassing curiosity killed the cat with this one and I too waited until no one was looking to follow aforementioned local into this enticing mystery.

Here I found a great deal of graffiti from ceiling to floor covering every inch of space. There were indeed stalls inside for once spoiled horses, including two box stalls at the end which makes me think there may have even been the occasional foal born here – though don’t quote me on that.

What I do know is that the stables are the only thing left from what was once a grand and majestic 1876 estate that fell into disrepair before burning down in 1960. While I enjoyed reading the graffiti I was regaled with tales of ghost horses galloping in the mist that surrounds the property at night. It was a delightful story in a gorgeous setting. Even the parking lot was sort of amazing – a nice view of the coast with a lighthouse standing stoically in the distance and waves anxiously lapping the shore.

Being such a gorgeous day a lot of people were out with their dogs and children but almost everyone was masked and courteous and this was not as populated with people as some of the other trails I have ventured this year. All and all it was a wonderful little adventure and well worth poking around a little bit.

I took A TON of photos which I will display below in sections. First up is The Stables:

Next up is the tower/view of the stables from above:

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