Just when I feel like I know where everything is and there’s no new places to explore I get another giggle from the Universe. Lyndeborough is only thirty minutes from where I live and I had no idea this town even existed. I have never heard of it which is a shame because apparently that’s where the devil makes beans. Or something. I may have gotten that one a bit wrong… but what I do know is that Lyndeborough is one of many purgatories you’ll find scattered through our deliciously Puritanical New England. This time it comes in the form of waterfalls.
I was told by a few different people it was somewhere I needed to check out so I looked it up vaguely online for an address. There were numerous people who claimed the parking lot was hidden, that it was near impossible to find, and that the GPS will only lead you to a sign across town reading:
OK, so let me explain the sign. It’s placed on Purgatory Falls Road which being the clever thing I am I figured was the home of Purgatory Falls. So I let my GPS take me there because it was being a total jerk today and wouldn’t acknowledge that not only Purgatory Road was a real place but also the entire town of Lyndeborough. SIGH. Now here’s the trick. Purgatory Falls Road is NOT correct but plain old Purgatory Road is. And the parking lot is indeed really frelling easy to miss. The signs out front are worn right off the trees and it doesn’t even look like a trail head. I had to drive in and find a single 8 by 11 sign hanging above a trash can that let me know that yes, I found the right place (by following good old fashioned print directions.) But I’ve made it easier for you. While I was in the parking lot I took a snap of my GPS coordinates which your GPS should not fuck up!
Alright, now that we have that cleared up… I was only one of three cars there when I arrived. When I entered the woods I was greeted by the usual path although there wasn’t a damn marker anywhere and the trail kept having other little partial trails jutting off it. Sooooo I was already hesitant but I did manage to end up at Lower Purgatory Falls which was perhaps a quarter of a mile in. I was lucky to show up early enough that no one was here. I had the whole waterfall to myself. It’s apparently a popular swimming hole with a nice area below and above the falls to take a nice ice cold dip. There were missing items of clothing and random trash scattered through the whole area. I had done a very shitty amount of research before I left and knew that this was Lower Purgatory Falls but that there is also an Upper Purgatory Falls somewhere. Stupidly I thought this was a loop trail. And I was feeling a bit brazen because I saw the first trail markers at the falls. I’m already in the woods why not? I took the yellow trail, whatever that is, but it wasn’t long before I realized every goddamn trail was marked with yellow markers. They all led into each other sure but… whew, that was confusing.
It was a hot out today and I didn’t really feel like dying out here so I tried to stay near the riverbank figuring it was likely the river attached to the other falls and definitely was the river attached to the Lower Falls should I need to get back to the car. It was a pretty little hike with lots of little inlets and river scenes. I was enjoying myself. But then I had to turn away from the river and that made me get a bit fidgety. Up until then I’d only seen two other hikers who I thought were an army. Christ were they a loud bunch. I was shocked to find they were a young couple and not a circus troop of small children (the only kind of people I’d expect so much noise from!) From here the trail was… sketchily marked, at times getting pretty overgrown and hairy and at two places surrounded by “NO TRESPASSING!” and “Security cameras are on!” signs. Not very welcoming. Those were attached to the properties of two mansions and I just can’t help but wonder what is wrong with those people. You bought a house almost built directly on a popular public trail did you not expect people to be wandering by? Idjits. Oh what I’d do to live on a house attached to such a nice hiking trail! I’d be HAPPY.
And I kept walking. And walking. And walking. Deeper into the woods. The trail markers are now mostly yellow with a few white ones mixed in to keep me guessing and offshoot trails are appearing with orange and blue markers. Finally I was back at the river bank. I immediately looked for a spot to stop and rest. Heat exhaustion was starting to make my head hurt. And then I saw the PERFECT little spot. A rock stretched out over the water and allowed for a nice semi-secluded spot to sit so I crawled out there, lobbed off my shoes, and splashed in that COLD COLD water like a small child. It was shaded and the water was so cold it actually hurt to put my feet in it but I was desperate and it did make me immediately feel better. I dithered about there for a while before passing hikers make me feel a bit self conscious so I moved on.
The trail ahead was not the “easy” beginner trail I was told it’d be online. Jagged and often slippery roots, steep hills, and terrifying cliffs dotted the entire route. My knees were screaming bloody murder at me. And now my head and stomach were kicking in. Heat. And then I came to a clearly marked trail junction that pointed to whence I came “Lower Falls” and another path “Purgatory Brook Trail” which I think leads to the other falls. So I kept going even though by now I was toast. I’d WAY overdone it. I needed to be at the car not 4 or 5 miles into the woods. I still kept going before reaching a bridge that both had trail markings and yet another Private Property/No Trespassing sign. I sat down, pulled out my phone, turned the mobile data on, and started to figure this out. First I tried “Where am I?” which resulted in a map…. of literally nothing no matter how much I zoomed out. Fuck. Now I’ve done it. I’m in no man’s land. Then I tried looking up where the falls were on the trail. One source said 5.1 miles apart, another said the whole trail was 15 miles. All said they started in one parking lot and ended in another. NOT A LOOP. And I didn’t have any kind soul to pick me up at parking lot #2 because I was too stupid to plan this out better.
I turned back and started marching. It seemed like forever before I found that rock plank over the river again and when I did I stopped and dunked myself. In fact I wandered around a bit splashing water over myself as much as I could. A hiker sneaked by me as I was probably looking like a lunatic prospecting for gold. I’d seen very few hikers out today but ALL of them caught me doing or saying something nutty. One caught me muttering, “Yellow trail my ass! These markers are shit!” A second caught me cursing again at myself when I twisted my ankle going down a hill, “Fucking no! I am NOT breaking my goddamn ankle out in the goddamn woods!” Luckily no one came upon me with my ass in the air taking a macro photo of an adorable mushroom I found on a ground but that is usually when people do pass… This has all taught me 1) I curse a profound amount and 2) I’m probably pretty embarrassing to be around.
When I gathered myself up from the river I decided to dunk my socks in the water so I’d at least have something cold and wet around my ankles keeping me sorted as I made my way back. Another egregious trip back. This time when the trail weaved away from the water I sort of freaked a little bit because in this direction it was marked even worse. Would I ever get back to the car?! Every now and then I’d notice something to keep me somewhat distracted like a half-made fairy house made of birch bark or a grackle. We have grackles in New England?! WHY IS IT MOCKING ME?!
Eventually I heard my phone ringing. My mother had noticed hours after taking her car that I was missing. I’d arrived at 10:30. It was 3PM before I finally found my way to the parking lot. This time the waterfalls themselves were filled with people but I was less than thrilled to walk from the falls back to my car in a rat’s nest of unmarked trails and half trails. Just keep walking. Just keep walking.
I made it. What a glorious sight the car was. It was however hotter than hell when I opened it up and as it burped out that 140 degree stale air I was dooooone. I’m home now. Already in pain. Going to be paying for this one for days to come! But although I know I will be in a coma for the next couple of days I am still happy I went. And heeeeey, maybe I can drive to the Upper Falls parking lot and see the upper falls and the devil’s bean pot from there. Then I can say I did the whole trail and stop feeling like such a hiking wuss.
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.
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.
