I had meant to go to two covered bridges today but being as I got out of the house rather late and kept finding happy detours it was getting dark… still, I had time for one more little excursion. I hadn’t visited Ashuelot before and I was delighted to find it’s this adorable little historic town with one of the most charming covered bridges I have ever come across. I parked aside the road and marveled at the fact it had not one but TWO pedestrian pathways over the bridge. The river below gurgled and churned and blocked out all noise from the traffic surrounding it. There was something so unbelievably peaceful and fun about this particular bridge even though it seemed to be situated near a lot of activity. A sign on the front even advertised “Dinner on the Covered Bridge!” some sort of quaint annual event.
I felt so happy here! I can’t even tell you why. It’s not like I haven’t seen a lot of other covered bridges – I’d even been to a few I’d consider more beautiful and plenty that were more remote but this bridge? It had such a nice vibe! It made me instantly so happy. I could have stayed there until dark if I didn’t have one more errand to run. There appeared to be lights on the bridge too so I am guessing it might be lit up at night. What a wonderful find! Funny enough my mother had been to this bridge a number of years ago, by accident, while she was going through some very negative things in her life and she reported the same feeling of ease and joy. Very interesting! I took some good marble photos too! And hey if you find yourself here check out the other bridges nearby!
If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!
Yet again Keene beckoned me to come over and slog through some bureaucratic business, my least favorite thing to do in the world, so I made sure to give myself some time to reward this endeavor with a trip to the fabric store and then an excursion into the middle of nowhere… I guess my intention was to complete my covered bridge tour in the area but that didn’t really go as planned. Instead I found myself yelling at the GPS to shut up as I parked aside the road to explore something unusual I had found near a covered bridge I had already blogged. I wasn’t sure if it was a trailhead or someone’s private property. I was up on Sawyer’s Crossing Road in Swanzy and there was what looked like a turn around where parking was available and stickers in all the surrounding trees reading “Yale Forest.” A closed gate seemed to have a path going around it and another sign read something about no motor vehicles, camping, or fires. I parked Daisy and headed in.
This place was a neat little find! It looked like it had been a road at some point, a paved one, and then it was abandoned and forest took over. I love seeing these sites where civilization gets turned back into wilderness. We always think that progress is a one way street, forever marching forward, but I find time and history have a way of swinging like a pendulum. Clearly this road must have had farms and houses on it on at some point. What happened to them? Why were they now a forest? I had no answers.
Off the road path a little ways there was another turn off and what could have been considered another path. I was feeling a bit brazen and marched into the woods. Eventually I found two yellow dots on various trees, denoting I was in fact on someone’s path, though where it led I had no idea, and it was clear the only people using it were probably deer. It was so quiet and sweet! I walked for quite a ways but it was already getting late in the day and forests have a way of getting dark a lot quicker than the rest of the world, I decided if this were to happen I should at least have the brains to be on the road path – even in the dark I could find my way back to the car from there, so after munching on some delectable wild black berries I turned myself around and walked back to the old decaying pavement.
The forest was awash with life – ferns, mushrooms, trees, odd flowers, lined every side. I was delighted to spend time photographing a great deal of them. I walked and walked until the pavement stopped and then I wondered if I should continue on… I could hear cars so I must be near the end… I continued on and ended up on West Swanzey Road. Of course that was useless to me but it was interesting to see where it came out, just at the Cheshire Horse, a nice equestrian based feed store. I headed back, smiling, laughing, and enjoying the brisk new weather. I came across the first red and orange leaves of the year and noted to myself summer was over. Part of me already started mourning as I was just getting used to the heat and was still loving the sun, but another part of me recognized this summer was amazing and to wish for it to continue might be just a smidge greedy. So instead I opened my arms and yelled, “Welcome Autumn of 2017! Show me what you’ve got!” And I can’t wait. It’s going to be bonkers and so much fun as the world around me turns into a dazzling array of colors. It’s going to be even more amazing to be surrounded by such beauty and weather. I have found I have fallen head over heals in love with New England and cannot wait to make a proper home here some day. As I chase my passions like the wind chases me I have absolute faith good things are coming.
It’s in these small reflective moments I realize just how stagnated the rest of my life was. Now I am out and about, adventuring, mingling, talking to people, pursuing my art, I realize it’s taking more and more to keep me intellectually, spiritually, and emotionally satisfied. It’s been a rush and I wonder if anyone will ever be able to keep up with me now.
Sunday evening Katherine and I chilled for a while after our adventures earlier that day and said hello to my brother and his girlfriend before eating what was left of our deep fried s’mores and attempting an early bedtime so we could get up and head into Boston, a little more than three hours away, in the morning.
I can’t say my history with Boston has been the best… I mean it’s a tough city, big, full of rude people and aggressive drivers, statistically the worst in the country, but maybe it’s not their fault. As my brother said, “Those roads aren’t meant for cars.” He’s right. Boston is filled with impossibly narrow roads and streets, many of which sport one sharp curve after another, and none of which make any logical sense. To add insult to injury half the roads are underground where the GPS no longer works and when you finally get where you’re 
going there’s no parking anywhere. And if that’s not bad enough the drivers… wow. They’re called Mass-Holes by the rest of New England. They’re real peaches. I felt like I was playing Russian Roulette at every intersection. But here too is proof of my personal growth in the past year. I only started driving myself to unfamiliar places less than a year ago and Boston was on my “uh-ah, not going to do it” list. But this time around I barely took notice, volunteered to head into the bowels of Hell without a second thought, I think shocking my brother and everyone whom I told. I used to spend my life constantly engulfed by panic and anxiety. These days I wake up and have to check my pulse because I wonder if my heart is still beating when I can’t feel it slam against my chest walls. It’s really odd but so peaceful and wonderful. Even babies don’t thwart me anymore. They used to make me super nervous but just recently I realized they’re not really made of glass. Now instead of being like, “Shit don’t get that thing near me, I may break it.” I actually find them kinda cute. Except infants. They’ll always look like raisins to me.
Back to the story… Katherine asked if we could take an adventure on the way and I said sure, why not. She chose Walden Pond because she wanted to see where Thoreau wrote 
Katherine put it. It was $15 admission and seemed to be… A swimming hole for Bostoners. There were paths around the lake, none marked very well but it didn’t much matter as there were roads and civilization everywhere. No one was going to die out here. A replica of Thoreau’s cabin stood near the visitor center where there was both information and oddly, a gift shop. We discussed how morally strange it was to have a gift shop honoring a man who was all about simplifying one’s life and cutting out materialism… Though this spirit did seem present when we found the sight of his original cabin. Here was a large pile of rocks (just like the rest of New England…) where people had made some sort of weird piled rock memorial to the man. Some used Sharpies to doodle messages and pictures on the stones they left behind.
It seems as if almost the entirety of the lake had been made into one big sandy beach. The one at the front had the shallow bits cordoned off like keeping a mass of people in a big fish net! Further out there was more nature-friendly bits, kayakers seemed to be enjoying the day on the water, and other people had found more isolated spots to swim. Katherine and I were not dressed for this, having no idea there might be swimming involved, but we decided it was a nice hot day and the water did seem rather nice. I pulled off my trusty Chuck Taylors and knee high nerd socks, rolled up my pants, and waded in. Katherine followed suit. OH! The water was so shallow it was warm and clear as the day is bright. Fish immediately came to my shockingly white calves and tried to nibble on them. These fish were weird though…. as they appeared to be a school of African Cichlids. Perhaps this lake was the “farm up North” fish disappear to when they’re no longer wanted. All I knew is these things did not look natural with their bulky silver bodies and fluorescent blue tails.
We stayed in the lake enjoying the day for quite a while, neither one of us really wanting to leave. We had found the site of the original cabin and stared at it’s sad foundation earlier on and now we were watching people stare up at the sky to witness today’s solar eclipse. A little girl near by reminded us about this and although it was slightly darker than usual neither one of us really noticed what was going on behind a large swath of fluffy clouds. Ah well, no eclipse for us, we wandered back to the car and continued on to Malden where a friend was waiting for us.
Surprisingly there was enough time after 
It was another hot day but luckily I was in a car with air conditioning, which was a nice change. We had been together now for long enough that our happy burbling had gone from the usual pleasantries to discussing in depth only the most fucked up subjects we could think of – like what we thought was normal when we were kids that really wasn’t, what left the deepest psychological scars, and what was rotting behind each white picket fence in the small towns we grew up in. It was all in good fun and I think we were both enjoying it – though I have to wonder if my company is extreme when I keep eliciting gasps of horror. Perhaps next time I will keep nail clippers in the car so that when I flip a nail inside out and get it bleeding I have something a little more appropriate to remedy the situation that a rusty set of needle nose pliers… maybe. 
Anyway, we got stuck in traffic for a bit where I got into a fight with another Prius who would not let me move over into the exit lane I actually needed… but we survived and no one was shot so it’s all good. When we drove up to the fort the tiny parking lot was almost filled to capacity with cars. People were here with their kids and dogs and we could already see a few pieces of the fort and the boat filled harbor it guarded. Unlike 
It was a small property but so lovely to wander I enjoyed snapping photos and Katherine relaxed with the smell of the ocean wafting in. We picked a couple locations to just stand and watch the waters as we talked, not really wanting to leave until it got dark. We outlasted almost everyone there and when there was only one other guy wandering about we managed to scare him off with our frank discussion of birth control. Always nice.
Portland is a sweet little port city, not nearly as much of a tourist town as Old Orchard Beach. I had enjoyed walking its streets before but now it was nice to return to a different portion of the city. My GPS led me to where the International Cryptozoology Museum used to be, but not knowing this I placed the Prius in a nearby parking garage and we started to walk. Portland is a city of very mixed architecture – some which appeared very Dutch, some which looked like Lego bricks, and others which seemed more relevant to Maine. I took a few snaps here and there. Katherine kept herself entertained finding ninja’d stickers posted throughout the city reading fiercely
critical liberal sentiments. The graffiti seemed almost sweet and added another layer of entertainment but where was this bigfoot museum?? Nowhere to be seen. We stopped in a used bookstore instead and oddly it had a map to the new location of the cryptozoology museum which was a seven minute car ride. So off we went to reclaim the car… only to find the parking garage would not let us out. I tried paying for my ticket but the machine kept spitting out my card, not telling me why, and asking me to re-insert the ticket. I was at a loss but with no one behind me I backed out of the toll lane, parked again, and found a machine inside to pay. With this new pre-paid ticket the toll gate actually worked. FWEW!
We spent way longer than we should have continuing to walk around all these unmarked buildings to find nothing. It was getting annoying so we circled back to the food truck and finally found Bigfoot standing around the side of that building, guarding a chicken shack and a brewery. It was a scene that was just so Maine.
We both went in and it’s a two level (but still two room) museum filled with just the most goddamn bizarre things… The bottom floor was for sea monsters and various beasts which was capped off with a five foot tall plastic ninja turtle for no reason I could see. In the display cases there were Fiji mermaids, labelled as hoaxes, but smattered aside things like a GI Joe standing next to a stuffed beaver with a plate reading, “Do giant beavers still exist?” It was completely mental. We were both getting quite a kick out of this place and I was so happy to experience it with a friend instead of going alone as I had planned a few months back.
To end one day’s worth of chasing waterfalls I drove up to Rumford falls just as it was starting to get a bit dark. I hadn’t realized this was also the location of another one of the things on my list of roadside attractions – a giant Paul Bunyan statue complete with Babe the big blue ox!
Sadly I showed up at the wrong time of year and the falls were completely dry… nothing really to see here except a series of weird Indian Cut-Outs?? I guess Maine hasn’t been seen by the PC police yet… but anyway! If you’re going to go see this, go in the spring when there is a flow! Unless you’re just here to take cheeky photos with Paul Bunyan…. he’s out in the parking lot and just as tacky and hilarious as he looks. Great opportunity for selfie mischief! I would say I look like a total dork with my jeans still rolled up from playing in the water but then I realized I’m hugging a big blue ox soooo…..
Screw Auger Falls was another one of the waterfalls listed on the
But with that all said and done Screw Auger Falls was an awesome little spot. Besides having two waterfalls within easy walking distance the smaller of the two allowed for a local swimming hole where children splashed about in the shallow water. Adults mostly loitered around the edges because this place was made of natural granite which had been worn very slick and smooth by the erosive nature of water and perhaps by retreating glaciers before that. On top of that algae grew over many bits which made for an intensely slick surface. None-the-less I had been driving all day and it was in the 80’s. Despite my lack of swimwear I decided to roll up my jeans, lop off my trusty Converses, and wade right in! The water was just above where I had rolled up my jeans at the deepest point across the river where I had started. It had taken me a good ten minutes to get this few feet because of the slick nature of the rocks. Children here knew how to navigate this danger as they slid around on their bellies like joyful seals. It was a sight to see! When I managed to get into this somewhat deep spot I bent down and splashed in the water letting it whoosh over my face and arms, essentially bathing in the river with my clothes still on.
The ice cold water felt almost baptismal in a way. I’ve been playing in a lot of rivers these past few months and every time it’s the same – the healing properties of the waters come from the psychological boost you get when you can almost feel all the negativity in your life just washing over your skin and tumbling down stream never to be seen again. At long last I was encouraging my true hippie nature to come out and play. How joyful I have been getting back in touch with the beauty of New England, and cranking up the radio as I go – singing along loudly and badly to Led Zeppelin, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, and all the music I had stopped listening to over the years when I never should have. The raucous screaming guitars and belted out rhythmus soothing my soul. At night I escape into another long forgotten guilty pleasure – beatnik literature, now with far more bite and meaning with my age and life experience. It’s interesting to almost reach back in time and touch another generation with such a powerful wanderlust. In addition to this seeing all these new beautiful places and meeting so many wonderful people had relit something powerful and intense in my heart – such a strong feeling of connection and wonder. In remembering who I am I learned who I need to be.
