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.

So after taking that little detour to
Still, the trails that headed over to the falls were short, easy to walk, and provided far more beautiful a scene than I had expected. Apparently the falls were named after Captain Snow who had a camp set up just about where the picnic tables are. He was a fur trapper at the time living out in the wilds of Maine pretty far from any real white settlements. This may be why he ultimately died during a brutal Indian raid – easy pickins’ I suppose. The tale tells of an Indian chief leading the raid wearing an entire eagle over his head, it’s wings outstretched, and it’s beak agape. Quite an image! This happened sometime in the 1750’s or 60’s, as several historical accounts contradict each other.
Rochester MA. It was well worth the two hour drive! And I was already glowing when I got back into the car and decided to go on another adventure. I had driven by Fall Rivers to get here so I decided on my way back I’d swing by and see if I could get a photo of the Lizzie Borden house. I’ve been by it before (though I couldn’t tell you why) and I figured it was possibly interesting enough to merit a blog entry so off I went… but while I was still driving through Rochester I saw a tiny sign aside the road and a three car parking lot promising there was a trail nearby so I stopped on a little detour…
Massachusetts. Upon getting out of my car all I could see was a field. Where was the path?? I might not have figured this out if it weren’t for a guy coming up it, across the field, with his adorable boxer puppy. After the usual greetings of, “Hey! Another living soul knows about this place!” I was on my way. It’d been a long time since I had trekked across a grown field. This is a fun activity if you’re a kid but slightly terrifying if you’re an adult as it’s very disorienting and probably absolutely infested with ticks. Still, this path was worn enough I knew I wasn’t going to get lost in the proverbial cornfields.
enchanted forest was a row of rustic benches overlooking what I think was the entrance to Avalon. It was a sandy-bottomed river, very odd in New England, that had ice tea colored water that got darker as it got deeper until all you could see was the dancing reflections of trees on pitch black water. Immediately I hopped down the shore and splashed about like a small child. It was over eighty degrees out and my hands were greasy from petting a stallion a few minutes before. This little wash-up was perfect!  And it was QUIET out here. Despite being very close to a busy roadway you couldn’t hear a single car going by or any people, just the occasional birdsong. This place was absolutely enchanting. I wanted to build a hobbit home on the other embankment and stay here forever. Since I couldn’t do that I instead took out some marbles and started snapping a few photos. I must have been playing out there for quite some time before I decided to make my way back – something I managed to do by remembering various rocks and trees. I also found an adorable mushroom along the way! By the time I got back to the car I felt refreshed enough for the two and a half hours of driving ahead of me (and no.. I never did manage to take a photo of the Lizzie Borden house although I did drive by. Traffic today was utterly insane!)