Well! As it turns out there’s a bunch of things going on in Maine I should really be up here for so last Thursday I packed up my car and braved five hours of dragon’s breathe (fog) to get to central Maine. I’ll be up here for a couple weeks…. getting into trouble and whatnot. So far it’s been wonderful. I took a photo of the dragon’s breathe and a new friend I found in the yard this morning. I’m calling him Tom.
Today’s little adventure was to a Steampunk Craft Fair and Festival in Dexter. For those of you not in the know Dexter is a tiny town smack dab in the middle of nowhere and a damn strange place to have such a thing…. which is obviously what made me want to go. It’d either be amazing, or amazingly bad, either way I’m happy! So off I went! (I was however not ballsy enough to attend the costume party at the adjoining bar the night before… Not that I had anything to wear on such short notice.)
I must say it is HOT and MUGGY today… and the little festival in the middle of the parking lot around the old factory building. TO my surprise there were a lot of people dressed up! Most were vendors, and the live music, but I think a few were just nutballs like me. I wasn’t totally dressed down – I did wear my octopus shirt which looks very Jules Verne-esque. And someone did compliment it… I think he was trying to say it looked like Cthulhu.
Anyway, I was happily surprised with the diversity here. There were a lot of crafters, a lot of gears, a lot of keys, all glued on masks, tiles, earrings, you name it. Even talked to one young woman making her own chainmail. Seriously. Hand-made chain mail. I asked where the hell she picked up that skill…. she said her school taught it. Wow. Maybe if my school were that interesting growing up I wouldn’t have prayed so hard for the building to “blow down in one good gust,” as one of the teachers lamented, “That’s all it’d take! One good gust!”
Of course I also went in the hopes of seeing local authors. I wasn’t disappointed. I ended up buying three books, all signed, for $35. One was a collection of short stories, another was some sort of whimsical fiction, and the third was a graphic novel which I am not known for buying but it looked so damn detailed… the woman who inked and wrote that one said she was used to doing comic con type circuits, indoors. I could see that. Everyone was super friendly and very passionate, what I would hoped to find in such a gathering. For the dead center of Nowheresville Maine I think this was pulled off pretty well! Especially for the first year in doing this. Maybe next year I’ll return as a vendor!
Recently I decided I should start going to more extroverted places on the weekend, maybe quirky little mom and pop shops, museums, or festivals, leaving my more isolated hikes into the woods or cemeteries for weekdays. There’s always more things to share about New England after all! Every time I feel like I have scraped the bottom of the barrel I always find way more! And so it was that a few days ago I got a fantastic lead – the Tiny House Fest in Brattleborro Vermont, an annual event right dead in the center of this adorable little Vermont town filled with vendors, educational lectures, and thirty tiny houses from all over the country. You could visit the vendors and walk for free, pay $15 to go on a self guided tour of the tiny houses, or pay $25 and have access to all that plus the lectures going on all day in three separate areas. Since this is a subject of great interest to me I splurged on educating myself. $25 and some gas for Daisy, off we go!
My mother decided that morning she wanted to go with me, which is fine, I did ask if she wanted to accompany me as she loves the tiny houses too. It was supposed to have intermittent thunderstorms and downpours all day, which I think kept the faint of heart away. Not me! I struggled to find parking because I am not familiar with Brattleborro and ended up going into town around noon when most of the festival goers were also seeking parking. So I drove up and down main street, in my heavily Sharpied car, probably about five times before I figured out what I was doing and found a suitable parking space. It’s Vermont. My crazy car and neon orange hair barely lift an eye brow here (which is probably why I adore the area so much…) Of course the second I pull in it starts to POUR. I mean hurricane level rain, washing people down the hills… SIGH. I got out, pulled up my hoodie, handed my mother the umbrella, and tried to pay for my space. The machine had other ideas and would not accept my card, or my mother’s. I had to go back to the car, drenched, and rustle around for change. Thank God it was cheap. Thirty cents an hour. Now that’s a price I didn’t mind paying!
Off I went. We first toured all the tiny houses and it was an impressive assortment I must say. Some were just shells, some were completely tricked out, some were built onto trailers, some were in buses and vans, and some were big enough to feel like actual normal houses. The innovation was wonderful! People formed polite ques outside of each and poked in with the same burning curiosity I had. Often the makers of these homes stood somewhere along the way and spoke to people who may have had questions. Several of them I was really impressed with.
From here I attended a few lectures. I learned about a crazy variety of things: the many uses of pee, how to garden under solar panels so that arable land isn’t wasted, how to bring a town back to life with “pop up” stores carried in vans, much about community organization, much about teaching others, as well as how people can live in a bus or a van, and an ungodly amount of information on the construction of a gypsy wagon styled travel home that had my eyes glassed over for the entire half an hour.
I wasn’t on it for long before I hit massive gridlock. There were cars sprawled out for miles and miles. A helicopter flew overhead and people started craning their necks out their windows to see my awesome doodle job on Daisy, which I had recently touched up an added to. She’s been in and out of the shop all winter and spring so this was my first outing with her in a long while. It was unfortunate as it was over 80 degrees that day, in full sun, and Daisy’s AC isn’t functional. I’d also left my water and phone charger in the Prius, having been accustomed to using that car in Daisy’s absence. As traffic ground to an absolute halt I found myself stuck, not for the twenty or so minutes I had expected, but for more than two hours. By this time I was suffering heat exhaustion. I was dizzy, nauseous, and soaked in my own sweat. To make matters worse I was bored because the CD player decided it was also overheated and stopped working along with the radio. I traveled only a little over a mile in those two hours and watched as everyone in a truck just drove over the grassy meridian and sped off in the other direction. My car is tough but too low to the ground for that. I was stuck until I finally made it to the Westford exit and was forced to take it, they had closed down the entire road ahead of me. So I drove into Westford, and the first thing I saw was a Panera’s, so I drove in and used their bathroom to cool down, taking a paper towel and soaking it in fresh cold water, splashing my face in their sink before returning to the counter and buying a smoothie and half a sandwich. I ate before stopping to consider where I was and what I should do. I didn’t want to find some ulterior way to the pet store, still being more than half an hour away, with the 495 still closed, but I was in the same area as a friend so I asked if I could drop by and maybe take a cold shower, when the answer was yes, I then decided I would make my trip out worth something by checking out a local trail I found on previous drives.
I ended up at the Tophet Chasm, travelling along their boundary trail, which was 3.3 miles. It was still well over eighty degrees but the shade of the trees was sufficient enough for me for quite a while. I had heard these woods were haunted and had some link to Native American religious rituals back in the day. I found the trail to be…. exceptionally ordinary. What they were calling a chasm just looked like an average wooded hill. There wasn’t anything particularly interesting on this trail, no weird plant life, no funny little birds, no amazing views. In fact the trail wound its way through the back borderlines of numerous private properties. Had I lived on one of them I might find this very neat, having traveled to hike, I found it… less than interesting. The only thing I found that amused me was a gargoyle placed near the trail by one such private residence that appeared to be waiting in ambush for hikers. Super cute!
By the second mile in I started to suffer heat exhaustion again and wanted nothing more than to be off it. I got super nauseous, dizzy, lethargic, and because the pollen count was so high (with the ground looking as if it had snowed yellow) I was getting some super pissed off sinuses starting to give me a headache on top of everything else. I trudged on. There was one view, at what I think was called Lookout Rock, near the end of the trail, that did in fact look over a good part of the town. It wasn’t amazing but ti was something! Onward I walked, melting… By the time I got back to the car I was sooo ready to be home. I drove to my friends house instead where my heat sickness escalated and I ended up pretty much downed for the next couple hours, trying to regain strength to drive home. Here I learned the traffic jam I found myself stuck in earlier had trapped some cars for up to four hours and was caused by a fire in the power lines. I’ve learned a lot of lessons from this. Always have water in the car. Don’t try to hike in the afternoon when the weather is in the 80’s. Check traffic reports.
About a week ago I was asked to do a group trip, which I am not adverse to, that would be somewhat local and appropriate to bring a four year old. So I thought the sculpture garden in Brookline might be the ticket. I had heard there were all sorts of large sculptures nestled in the woods on a series of hiking trails that ranged in severity, with most being “easy.” I had envisioned a college campus with a few winding trails around it.
Part of this group was my mother, whose alarm did not go off, and who spent $2 buying a muffin for breakfast that she first stepped on and then lost entirely. From here the GPS kept freezing and would not accept the address and we got lost from there. I was still pretty chill, just hanging in the back seat with the kiddo, which is something I very rarely do. Sadly the bickering had already started.
When we found the entrance to the sculpture garden it was a dirt road attached to the highway with the saddest little sign directing the way. The parking lot had a few gorgeous metal sculptures, some cars parked from other visitors, and a big old map. It said online I should print my own map so I did… not that it helped… because between the three of us no one could make sense of it. In fact the map I’d printed and the big one in the parking lot didn’t agree on much!
We started walking, ended up on what I think may have been a RV trail, climbing up, up, up and not seeing a damn thing. Everyone’s huffing and puffing and cranky. I’m at a complete loss as to what is going on. When we finally got to the top of the hill we found ourselves in a rat’s nest of insanely ill-marked trails that went off in all directions with colorful arrows pointing in every one of them. Most trails these days are color coded. These tried to be… but both the maps had different colors for the same trail and the trails themselves? Well! You’re walking on the purple, red, blue, green, yellow trail…. or is it white? No, I think it’s all of them. We’re on every trail at once. Absolute chaos. I felt like we might end up in Wonderland, or somewhere worse. Were Muppets changing the arrows every time we passed? Felt like it.
But then we started to see the sculptures. They were in fact littered everywhere and were for the most part marked on the map by color and number – not chronologically, or in any other order we could identify, and the colors seemed to mean absolutely nothing besides, but they were there! Look! Most of them were pretty abstract and not really my thing but a few were really cool like a big steam punk bank vault door just sitting in the woods all mysterious. I also adored two granite hugging couples, some Australian’s concept of a seed, a weird figure in a serpentine pose around a pole, and my favorite of all three beautifully whimsical werewolves made of scrap metal. And we did enjoy ourselves after the bickering settled down but seriously… this isn’t for everyone. If things like insanely poorly marked trails and unreadable maps bug you then perhaps you should make a pass on this. Even the “loop” trails were just big U’s that attached to other big U’s. Not a single complete loop. And the hiking was moderate – there were rocks and hills and slippery leaves. The four year old did great though so I still wouldn’t discount it completely as family fun…Â And hey, I did have a good time. Honestly. I think there’s something really cool about art in the woods, even more cool when you can go up to them and touch them, getting a real sense of the artist who made them.
So after my little
My GPS led me to some church on the corner. I decided to keep driving, glad I did, because the bog was at the very end of a dead end road. There was a little parking for maybe ten or so cars and there was already an adorable old hippie couple getting off their motorcycle. Told you bogs are for weird people. Anyway! I signed the log book, forgot to look at the map or grab a brochure, and then wandered haplessly into the woods, as one does.
Most bog walks are very short for the simple reason that few people appreciate wading through leech infested waters. This bog however was set up really nicely. Instead of one tiny path leading to the water’s edge there was a boardwalk constructed through much of it allowing you to really see this body of water in all its glory and it was beautiful, the most beautiful swamp I have ever seen. I was really digging it until some woman caught up with me and wouldn’t pass me. She was making some sort of clicking noise, I think trying to lure out a woodpecker or something, but it was starting to irritate me. I turned off on the “Point” trail and went up until a fallen tree made me think I should go back the way I came, which I did, by this time having lost the clicking woman.
Along the way I heard hundreds of bullfrogs but wasn’t able to see them. I did spot a family of ducklings and the biggest garter snake I have ever seen in my life. The scenery was spectacular and decorated with the buzzing of dozens of dragon flies. Oddly enough there wasn’t a single mosquito out there. It was a really sweet quiet walk. Eventually it started to get dark and since I didn’t know if this was a loop trail or not I headed back, meeting up with the old hippie couple again which I bantered with a few moments speculating on the stone wall out there. They told me it was probably shorter to keep walking the way I was going but I just felt better going backwards and seeing familiar sights since I had twenty minutes until five PM, which is normally when the forests get dark (and damn do they get DARK!) I looked at the map after getting out of there and I had made it a little past half way… perhaps someday I shall go back and do the rest!
I finally got out on a little adventure today! I had tried to do so last weekend but I ended up driving by a lot of really crowded trail heads and noping my way home, not that there’s anything wrong with popular trails, I have just been in a very introverted mood these past few weeks. I wanted somewhere to go where I could really commune with nature and boy did I find the jackpot today! I found a gorgeous loop trail out in the middle of nowhere that was an introvert’s wet dream. Seriously. Ample parking, an adjoined center, and not a goddamn soul up there even though there were four cars parked there when I drove in.
I was a bit worried this trail was going to be a bit too much. I have been struggling this spring getting my body to comply with my wishes and am disastrously out of shape besides. I did some reading online and it said this trail was 4.9 miles and went to a mountain summit. It was considered “moderate” difficulty but in the reviews there was a family bragging their six year old made it up and back in two and a half hours. Surely, I could beat a six year old, no? I might even cry less. In any event I set out for this challenge.
The trail is located adjacent to the Harris Center which is where parking is provided. It was amazingly well marked. You’d have to be some sort of speshul to wander off it. And at first it’s all very lax and easy going, pretty flat, going the perfect pace for me. This trail allows dogs so I assume it’d be great for that. I was startled right off the bat with the serenity of this place. Usually when I go on these trails I can still hear or see cars going by down below. Not here, the farther into the woods I got the quieter it became until all I could hear were the pitter patter of chipmunks, a few mourning doves beating the tar out of each other, and my own heart beat. It was the sort of blissful silence I was looking for! Serendipity!
The trail starts out very flat and stays that way for quite a while, winding past a little bench area that looks over a lovely little pond that’s just filled to the brim with wee fish. Then it becomes very not flat, so if you’re not in for a bit of a work out from there I say just enjoy the pond and scurry back, otherwise you’re in for a climb. I had to take four breaks going up but I think if I were a normal person I probably could have handled it. When I got to the summit I must admit it was…. meh. It wasn’t nearly as beautiful as the trail itself! And I somehow walked past the second summit without even seeing it, so there was that…
Still, this was everything I wanted out of today. I got to see some tiny wildlife – even some sort of hornet laying eggs in the bark of a tree, I witnessed some sort of territorial dispute between the local dove community (and whoever thinks doves are peaceful creatures are out of their cotton picking minds) and saw an abundance of plant life. In fact I can’t wait to return in the fall when all the trees are colorful! Double points autumn is also mushroom season, triple points there are a bunch of other trails nearby. This was like a little slice of heaven! Highly recommended for the hiker who likes a moderate challenge and few other travelers to bug ’em.(Speaking of bugs this is my one and only complaint – I was nearly sucked dry by mosquitoes on this trail but I suppose… it is the season!)
Between my body not getting the hint it’s go time, and a bunch of issues at home, I have been severely pokey in getting this year’s traveling started, but today I took my first little road trip of the season, and it was goddamn amazing!
I had decided to go to the Flume Gorge in the spring, before the tourist rush and also when all the water from the melting snow is whooshing down the mountains. I asked my mother if she wanted to go and after a bit of convincing she relented. She was sick on Mother’s Day so this was what I had decided to do with her to make up for it. We were slow getting out, getting into the car around 1PM, and then requiring several stops. I typed in the address wrong and after two hours of driving realized I was still forty minutes away. Could we make it in time?? Yes we could! We got there around 4PM, after mother had smuggled a gas station sandwich into the car while I was filling my tank. It was an egg salad sandwich, which you’d think would be a gamble at a gas station… but it was bizarrely great and much needed.
Tickets to the Flume Gorge cost us $16 per adult, unlike most the trails I go on which are in the middle of nowhere and absolutely free. That’s OK, it was well worth it! I guess my mother had been there before, during peak tourist season, and she didn’t remember much of it. This time around, being the spring, we had almost the whole trail to ourselves and it was gorgeous! The water was lively as we walked over numerous bridges to see see different vantage points. There were a few signs along the trail highlighting various features. A good portion of the trail is on a trellis going over the water and in between two rock walls. It makes for a stunning viewpoint, a brisk amount of exercise, and the sound! I can’t tell you how amazing the sound was! As the water rushed by it echoed against the rocks and became louder and louder until you could almost hear nothing else. I felt so alive! And there were a few beautiful waterfalls, one of which sprayed us with a cool and refreshing mist.
I won’t lie, for a first outing this was a bit extreme. It was three hours of driving to get there and much of the trail was steep, either going up hill or up stairs. Still, being as empty as it was we both could take our time and we had a great day. This was one of the most scenic places I have been so far and well worth the visit! The only complaint I have is that my camera hates taking photos in direct sunlight so a good deal of my snaps came out washed out. I still have to learn how to muck with the lighting setting to avoid this in the future. But with that being said I had a fantastic belated Mother’s Day celebration with my #1 mom, who I took a number of adorable photos of but I am fairly certain she’d kill me if I posted them here.
Today Mother Nature decided to bless us with 48 degree weather and a light drizzling rain which did a fantastic job of blanketing the town in dragon’s breath and washing a good deal of snow away. I figured it was the perfect time go out for a little walk, take a few spring snaps, and just enjoy myself. I’ve been cooped up in the house all winter, my health clubbing the crap out of me on the slightest whim, and cabin fever has made me more than a little anxious to return to the woods. So that’s what I did, I took my camera, slung it over my shoulder, and returned to a familiar haunt – The Old Woods Trail in the Betsy Foskett Wildlife Preserve in Rindge NH. Today I hoped to capture the strange and eerie feel it had to it since being clouded in mist.
I heard the water rushing by before I got that far. All this melting snow had added a liveliness to the pond’s tributaries. And the smell! There’s no fresher scent on this earth than the smell of freshly melting snow. It tickled all my senses and gave me such joy. It appears I was one of only two visitors in the recent past, unless I feel like counting all the dog tracks I found. I think it’s kind of sweet these dogs migrate to a path their owners probably walked them down whenever they escape their own confines. The wildlife was clearly used to their cold weather privacy as I seemed to have accidentally startled a gaggle of Canadian geese who honked loudly and upset a duck on the other side of the pond who quacked back just as angrily.
I made it maybe halfway down the path before my body decided to slam me. Just because mentally I am ready to be out running for the hills doesn’t mean the rest of me agrees. I begrudgingly headed back home before even reaching the stone wall I was so intent on visiting. Oh well, there will be other rainy days when I will return! For now I am at peace with what I could accomplish. It feels like going home to be back on the trails!
