Mount Washington

Living in NH, or anywhere in New England, a must see place is Mount Washington. It is the highest peak in the Northeastern United States topping out at 6,288 feet above sea level. On a clear day you can see as far as VT, NY, MA, ME and Quebec. It is also known for its extreme weather. What you have for weather before you climb the mountain may be completely different at the peak

We went up on the Auto Road Guided tour. You can also brave the road in your own vehicle but it is less wear on your vehicle and the tour was a great way to sit back and enjoy the ride listening to the tour guide explain all the different scenic views along the way. Once at the top, we were given about an hour to explore the peak.

One of the places we were able to visit was the Tip Top House, which is the oldest surviving building on the summit. Built back in 1853, it once served as a hotel. The house was made of rock that was blasted from the mountain, which is probably why this building has lasted so many years in the extreme conditions. It's now open to the public to view its history.

Another great place open to the public is the Observatory. Inside, they have a small cafeteria, gift shops and a museum, giving you all the mountains history. It has been staffed continuously  since 1932.  The summit typically sees about 42 feet of snow per year and the temperature average runs about 27 degrees, with wind chills below zero. Since I do not like snow, or the extreme cold, I would not do well with this job. But they never seem to lack volunteers to go up to stay.

The last building, which happened to be one of my favorite places to view was the Summit Stage Office, which was originally the first observatory. It is now a gift shop, which happened to be closed the day we went but posted on the outside of the building was a sign that read, "The highest wind speed ever recorded by man (in this building) was 231 miles per hour." Not only was this fascinating to me but also seeing the building literally held down by chains made me realize just how extreme the conditions get here.

The mountains of NH have so much to offer and this is just one of many places I would recommend visiting. The scenery, history and just seeing what Mother Nature is capable of is truly amazing.

Official Website: https://www.mountwashington.org/

Skull Cliff

Take the knowledge that you will someday be these bones, and enjoy now all that is precious. ICHABOD. YME... 2001

Ichabod's creepy yet inspirational message once adorned this colorful cliff on an abandoned quarry in Saugus Massachusetts. Although time and vandals have obscured the writing to the point of being illegible, the hundreds of skeletons that were painted alongside it have somewhat held up over time.

Skull Cliff sits on the outskirts of the Lynn Woods Reservation, a 2,200 acre playground that includes other head-scratching places such as the Dungeon Rock Cave. But while the history of that spot is well documented, the most that seems to been known about Skull Cliff is just what was painted in the message, that the artist calls himself Ichabod and painted this 35 foot tall cliff in 2001. And if the article in this link is referring to the same guy - which judging by the use of skulls in his other work I believe it is - Ichabod is arguably the most recognized freight train graffiti artist in America. http://www.theworldsbestever.com/2015/09/22/parallel-rails-ichabod/.

Driving to this place is no easy trick, to the point where we almost gave up looking for it. Our directions said to follow a public trail off Route 1, but what they didn't say was that the trail began in the back of a Jeep dealership's parking lot. By our third time driving by we finally figured it out, so trying not to make eye contact with any salespeople we drove through the dealership and sure enough found a parking area at the rear with a trail leading off. There were even chairs and a picnic table set up to reassure us it was okay to be there.

Once you figure out the driving part, getting to Skull Cliff is actually an easy and enjoyable half-mile hike. Exploring the cliff requires caution, however. Nothing so terrible that Tina couldn't climb it, just some tricky rocks and broken glass to be watchful of while making your way down. My advice is to brave your way to the bottom of the cliff though, as that's where the best view is.

My favorite places to visit are those created through a labor of love. I wondered how many days or even weeks Ichabod spent painting this cliff, how many gallons of paint he lugged through the woods, and how many trips did he make up and down his ladder. Grueling work for something he wouldn't make a dime doing and in fact would have cost him money. I tried to imagine the mind of this talented person, but I live in such a different world I'm not sure it's possible. Through a couple infrequent interviews he's given he describes his lifestyle these past 15 years as one without roots, having very little money, rarely holding a job, painting freight cars on almost a daily basis, all while facing his daily struggles with asperger syndrome. By his account he's illegally spray painted over 3,000 train cars in that time, and although he's shunned the social media notoriety that others in his circles seek, online fan groups have still crept up for Ichabod.

I regret not knowing about Skull Cliff in its prime. There are some fascinating pictures when it was freshly painted that are beautiful. But even 15 years later it's an impressive sight through the trees and bushes, and worth taking the trip if you're ever driving along Route 1 and have a few hours to spare.

The Search For Newton's Elusive Stone Chamber

As I learned during my recent visit to Danville's Beehive Hut, New England is littered with curious, man-made stone chambers that date back to the colonial days, and some think even further.

Danville's "Beehive Hut" Stone Chamber

This is the story of my search for an unmarked chamber said to exist in the woods of Newton, New Hampshire. Not that I plan on writing about each and every one of these I hunt down, but this one took me four attempts plus some begging to locate, therefore Newton is getting its own entry.

Our first attempt to find it was thwarted by the combined forces of Mother Nature and young children. A pounding rain had let loose on our drive to the site, but I've gotten soaked on explorations before so we decided to keep going. That's when Tina's phone rang. Our kids were home and power had just gone out. This was a bit tougher, especially since dusk was coming and they'd be alone in the dark, but the trail was just minutes away so we told them to go count the glow-in-the-dark stars on our ceiling and we be home soon. Then we rounded a corner and that's where this day's attempt came to and end. A firetruck was parked right where the trail began and its flashing lights told us we weren't going any further. The storm had taken down a large tree and police had the whole road closed.

My second attempt came the following weekend with Tina and Logan. Tricked by how easy to find Danville's stone chamber was, I planned on this entire adventure being just a quick stop and go. But things were anything but easy, starting with the fact that the trail was city-owned and marked no trespassing. That ruled out Logan and Tina going in, but I doubted anyone would get too excited over a 50-year old man searching for a cave - especially if I abided by the motto take nothing but pictures, leave nothing but footprints. So into the woods I went. And a half hour later, out I came - empty handed and sweaty. I'd left plenty of footprints but didn't get any pictures.

Back to the drawing board I went, but after triple-checking my research I was sure I had the right spot. Maybe not precisely, but I was definitely within a few hundred feet in one direction or another. So the next weekend I planned attempt number three, which was going to be an all out sweep of the area. I would bring my mountain bike and search every trail in those woods, and where there weren't any trails I would make them.

I succeeded in half my mission that weekend, I created a whole lot of trails where there weren't any. The map below, which could easily be mistaken for the wanderings of my daughter through the Fox Run Mall, is actually a GPS recording of my 6+ miles of searching.

Although I still didn't find the chamber, there were enough cool things in the woods to at least make the afternoon interesting. First there was this piece of metal I ran over, which when I began digging almost had me convinced I'd found a buried car.

Then there were these cameras mounted on trees, which someone's going to get a good chuckle out of watching me staring dumbly into. I'm not sure what they're used for so I've just been telling people they belong to a group of Bigfoot hunters.

But without finding the chamber I had to call it quits, and I texted Tina to let her know I'd given it my best shot but was calling off the search. That night I made one last ditch attempt, however, and emailed a local author who has written extensively about stone structures throughout New England, including Newton's excavation in 1968. I asked if he could offer me any help, and for extra pity I sent him the map of my search. Maybe that did the trick because he wrote back and gave me the chamber's exact location. I'd been close - in fact at one point I had walked completely around the hill that was hiding it.

Which led me to the my fourth and final trip into these woods, and with my updated map it wasn't long before I found myself looking triumphantly at the chamber. Just like that my search was over and I'd be able to sleep at night again.

Like most of the stone chambers in New England this is a simple structure, and half the enjoyment comes from a day in the woods spent searching for them. And although this adventure came with a very large assist, I still considered it a success and had a satisfying moment sitting inside the Newton stone chamber.

Fire Watch Duty on Warner Hill

Our family has hiked to a handful of firetowers in New Hampshire over the years, but this summer was the first time we actually got to go inside a working one.

We'd been driving through the southern part of the state, and with a few hours to kill decided to swing by the Derry tower. It sits on the 605' peak of Warner Hill, which as far as firetowers in NH go is the lowest one we have. For comparison, the tower on Magalloway Mountain sits at 3,360'. But what Warner Hill Tower lacks in location it somewhat makes up for in size by being one of the tallest in NH. That nugget of info came to us directly from a retired firefighter named Wally. More on him in a moment, but first it's confession time. We didn't actually hike the meager 605' of Warner Hill "Mountain", we were lazy and drove up the access road instead. But in our defense Logan and I had completed a 9 mile mountain bike ride earlier that day, and ol' jelly legs just wasn't up for any more exercise. I'll let you decide which one of us that was.

Although you're free to climb their stairs, firetowers are tall, narrow, rickety things that not everyone is willing to dart right up.

Derry tower is no exception to this, and Tina is just one of those hesitant people. So while she remained on the ground doing her best impression of the Little Engine That Could, Logan and I started up. We reached the top platform and immediately noticed something was different. The trap door opening to the cabin, which every other time we had climbed a tower was shut and locked, was swung wide open. Someone was up there.

Not wanting to disturb whoever was inside, we spent a few minutes looking around and pretending we knew which mountains we could see in the distance, when I heard a voice from above.

"You coming up?"

An invitation to actually go inside a firetower? You bet we were. Next thing I knew Logan and I were standing inside the cabin looking out.

The fellow who had beckoned us up introduced himself as Wally, and here's the first of several things I learned that day - New Hampshire's firetowers are still active. Somehow I'd never considered that they were. But I'd never considered that they weren't, either - I simply thought they were fun to climb. They're still in use though. Not every day, but whenever the fire danger is at level 3 or higher the towers are manned. And Wally could speak with authority on this because he'd been manning this particular tower for 31 years.

I asked him the last time he'd spotted something worth reporting and he said it was about a week ago in Candia, which turned into a 3-day fire after making its way underground into the roots. He then spent some time showing us his tools of the trade, which consisted of radio equipment, binoculars, and this map which he used to help us locate distant sites such as Boston to the south and Mount Agamenticus - or Mount "Aggy" - to the north.

We talked a bit longer and learned the history of the Derry tower. It was an ex-military lookout that was used in WWII to watch for planes coming in over the Atlantic. Had any been spotted, the tower would have radio'd over to Manchester Airport for support. After the war the lookout was converted to a fire watch tower, and without a need to see over the ocean the trees in that direction had been allowed to grow rampant and obstruct the view of the water.

It was about this time that the combination of affirmations and Dramamine must have worked their magic, because Tina braved the tower and joined us in the cabin. We were just wrapping up, but Wally was happy to give her the tour all over again and allow us more pictures. He ended by telling Tina that his wife was the reason he still came up here to do this job, so that he could have his alone time. Then he gave us the kind of wink that said he may or may not be kidding.

There are sixteen firetowers still standing in New Hampshire, and fifteen of them remain on public land and open to climb. Next time you're in the mood for a hike, consider a mountain with one of them at its peak - chances are if you live in New Hampshire there's one within an hour drive from you. And if you're lucky, you may even find a host as gracious as we did.

Links:
New Hampshire Fire Tower List

Hiking Abandoned Route 95

On an unseasonably warm day this past October Barry and I walked down the center of Interstate 95 in Massachusetts without any regard for traffic. That's because there wasn't any. What was in abundance however were rusted guardrails, faded paint lines, and waves of vegetation that had swallowed the breakdown lane and was continuing inward. Forty years of abandonment would do that to a highway.

For those who have driven on I-95 in Massachusetts, this is not some post-apocalyptic, parallel universe I'm describing. It was indeed I-95.  At least, it's a portion of what used to be I-95. In 1976 this section of road was abandoned and rerouted between Danvers and Newburyport in a widening project, leaving this discarded piece of interstate to the bicyclists and hikers such as ourselves.

Abandoned I-95 is not a place you're apt to stumble upon accidentally as the road itself isn't visible from any part of our modern I-95. But knowing where it began (thank you Google Earth) we found a parking spot alongside some construction equipment and made a quick walk down a trail to start our journey.

In the battle between nature and mans creations, there is no battle - the only question is how long it will take nature to reclaim her territory. We witnessed both the early stages of this takeover, such as these small trees sprouting through the tar,

And the later stages of this takeover, such as this beast lifting apart the road.

Remnants other than just blacktop were plentiful too. I'd forgotten about old fashioned wire guardrails such as these

Not all of the remnants were above ground, either. Here is one of several drainage tunnels which I couldn't resist crawling into.

Maybe a mile into our journey the pavement abruptly ended where it met a hill, but our fun didn't end there. Woods surrounded the highway on both sides, and so we took to the trees for our return trip. As a reward for our curiosity we were greeted with a variety of cool things, such as a rusted old engine,

And this rickety platform that, try as I might, I couldn't get Barry to climb onto.

The surprise of the day was that, unlike so many other hidden places we visit, there was very little graffiti here. It wasn't completely bare of it, and we did see a few rude pictures that I'd have hidden from my daughter's eyes, but for a mile of abandoned blacktop it was relatively untouched.

And of the graffiti abandoned I-95 does have, there are actually more inspirational messages than rude ones.

Macabre Memorials Part #2 - Spooner Well

What could be worse than having your wife hire three guys to beat you to death and throw your body down a well? How about having your wife hire three guys to beat you to death and throw your body down a well, then have the townspeople put up a memorial at the location of the well forever describing to the world the humiliating and horrific way your life ended.

Meet Joshua Spooner, a wealthy farmer from Brookfield Massachusetts, who in the year 1766 entered into an arranged marriage with twenty year old Bathsheba Ruggles. The couple had four children together, but over their 11-year marriage Joshua became more controlling and abusive toward his wife, to the point she despised her older husband and wanted him gone. That was the motive, now Bathsheba just needed the means and opportunity.

Both these came in the form of a young soldier named Ezra Ross. In 1777 Ross was making the long walk home from an army camp in New Jersey to Linebrook Massachusetts, which is apparently something people just did 200 years ago. He became sick along the way and Bathsheba took the stranger in and nursed him back to health, another thing people apparently just did back then. Ross became friendly with the couple, Bathsheba more so than Joshua, and began having an affair with the young mother. Eventually she became pregnant.

An adulteress pregnancy in the 1700's could be dealt with by such level-headed responses such as public flogging or exile, so in a move that would have made Pamela Smart proud Bathsheba enlisted her young lover to kill her husband. Ross chickened out on the first attempt, so Bathsheba brought in two other soldiers and the three men carried out the grizzly murder, beating Joshua to death and stuffing his body down a well that once sat on this patch of earth.

Things unraveled quickly for the masterminds and all 4 were arrested within 24 hours. This was before the days of decades long trials and appeals, and four months to the day of their arrest Bathsheba and the 3 men were publicly hung in the nearby city of Worcester. She tried to stay her execution on the grounds that she was pregnant, but an exam by several housewives disputed this claim. A postmortem inspection showed she actually did have a fetus in her stomach, however, and left her with this unique footnote in our country's history books.

Bathsheba Ruggles Spooner, the first woman put to death in the United States following the Declaration of Independence, was pregnant during her execution.

Spooner Well can be found on East Main St., Brookfield Massachusetts, east of downtown

Transcript:

SPOONER WELL

JOSHUA SPOONER, MURDERED

AND THROWN DOWN THIS WELL

MARCH 1, 1778 BY THREE

REVOLUTIONARY SOLDIERS

AT THE URGING OF HIS

WIFE BATHSHEBA

ALL FOUR WERE

EXECUTED AT

WORCESTER JULY 2, 1778

Related Links:
Macabre Memorials Part #1 - Josie Langmaid

Twenty Five Years Later - A Return to Sugar Hill Cave

Nearly twenty-five years after I last climbed out from beneath the ground of Sugar Hill, four of us donned our climbing gear and made the two-hour drive to my once favorite place to explore. This was a trip back in time for two of us in the group, and for the other two they weren't even born when last I made this journey.

It was somewhat a leap of faith to make the return without really knowing what we'd find. Our only reassurance was that, at least since Google Earth had last been updated, they hadn't plopped a Wal-Mart where the cave used to be. But in order to find the entrance we'd be relying on my memory from over half a lifetime ago, and I'm a guy who most days can't make it out the door without help from my wife. One morning she even had to help me track down my missing hat which I had hidden on top of my head.

Sure enough, we arrived at Sugar Hill without any trouble but then spent the next two hours bushwhacking up and down the mountain in a scavenger hunt for the cave. My daughter Madison got the worst of it as she trampled over a nest of angry bees. I tried to convince her how lucky she was to have been able to outrun all but five of them, but she wasn't in a "glass half full" mood at that moment.

After meeting back at the truck to retrace our steps my memory clicked - we should have turned left and the bottom, not gone straight - and ten minutes later we stood at the cave's entrance, recreating a picture from my youth.

It's not the easiest cave to get into, and for our first challenge we had to scoot down and off this ledge. Here is Madison using the same technique my wife uses to exit our Jeep.

Once moving Madison quickly went from hiding between the grownups to leading the pack, and with her unique ability to squeeze into places that would make a field mouse claustrophobic, she led us into the depths of the earth.

As far as caves in New Hampshire go, I don't know of a better one than this. There were tight areas we had to crawl through, but there were also large cavities like this one where we could stand around in a group, chatting. Most times the conversation ended with us saying how much cooler of a way to spend a Sunday this was, as opposed to all those poor people wandering around a mall somewhere.

Although this has the look and feel of a wild cave, after reading some old maps I've pretty much determined that it's actually what remains of a section of the old mine. This part was described as an open, sixty-foot deep trench carved into the mountain. I believe the cave formed when the trench either collapsed or was buried. Sections of the mine still exist farther down in the form of a separate open trench, and beyond that a shaft which we were able to enter by climbing through the backside.

This is an area that requires extreme caution when exploring, although looking at this sign I'm not sure what the bigger threat is, mineshafts or bears.

We left the woods that afternoon tired and muddy, but more than either of those, happy. Fellow adventurer Alex asked his father, my friend Dave, how he and I knew of this place to begin with, and we told him the story about researching abandoned mines many years ago and lucking into this spot. Taking it a step further he wondered why we had been looking this stuff up to begin with, and Dave answered in a much better way than I ever would have. To paraphrase, he said that we all start off with a sense of wonder in life, but too many of us lose it along the way. Never let that happen. Each of us should have an insatiable sense of curiosity for our world, and we should always be exploring the things that interest us.

And as Madison will tell you, an afternoon spent spelunking is a wonderful way to satisfy that sense of curiosity and adventure!

Links:
Sugar Hill Mines - Part One

God's 10 Acres & the Deed Rock

Trudging up a mountainside in central Massachusetts one drizzly Sunday, if I'd have stopped to contemplate my mission I would have put my odds of success at about a coin flip. Dusk would soon be settling in, roots hiding under a layer of wet leaves threatened my ankles with every step, and my only directions were an X marks the spot hand drawn map I squinted to read on my phone. Besides all this, I really had no idea how big this thing was I was looking for - I could picture it being both as small as my laptop and as large as my television.

But when I finally spotted it from a distance I had no doubt this was the rock I was searching for, even though nothing in the woods indicated this was a special place.

Can you spot the treasure in this picture?

This adventure began in the year 1800 with the birth of Solomon Parsons Jr in Leicester, Massachusetts. The grandson of a reverend, Solomon himself was a religious man who in 1840 purchased a 10 acre plot of land on a hillside in Worcester with the intent of building a temple on it. He paid $125 for the property, which Google tells me in today's currency is nearly $3,500.

But here's where things get weird. Rather than recording the purchase into his own name through the city's registry, Solomon bypassed that processes and instead had the man he purchased it from, William Hall, give the 10 acres of land directly to God. How exactly did he do this? By having a 200 word deed carved into this boulder which sits within the woods of the property, where in consideration of the money received Hall is said to give the land "Unto God" through "the laws of Jesus Christ."

These weren't just some scratchings on a rock, either. The man Solomon hired to perform this task, Sylvester Ellis, carved these words so deep and meticulously that "Deed Rock" remains as clear and readable today as it was 176 years ago.

Not so enduring were the boundary markers he used to define the land, which included such mainstays as a chestnut tree, a pile of stones, and the corner of a fence.

Just in case Deed Rock wasn't a big enough clue, Solomon was a kind and gentle man but also had a touch of the crazy. Caught up in a religious sect called the Millerites (led by head crazy William Miller), this group believed the world was facing a cataclysmic end in the year 1844. To survive this rapture Solomon built his temple on top of the ten acres, but unfortunately he was a better worshipper than builder and legend says the temple was leveled by a windstorm.

Other structures have come and gone in these woods as well, and in my search for Deed Rock I found the remains of two other building, including this large foundation.

After the world didn't end in 1844 as the Millerites predicted, Solomon began selling off chunks of the property. When he passed away at the age of 93 the remaining land was scooped up by a real estate mogul who simply claimed it as his own. And although houses and apartments now surround the hill, Deed Rock and the patch of woods that hide it remain as secluded and peaceful as I imagine they were when memorialized in 1840.

This rock is a work of art that I almost feel should be in a museum. Almost. Because although putting it on display would allow it to be shared with the public, I worry that something would be lost by making it so easily accessible. Anyone could go see it simply by standing in a line.

But having to climb a mountain in the rain, not quite sure what I was looking for or even if I'd find it, then the joy I experienced when finally locating this treasure? That's a memory that will stay with me forever.

* My transcript of Deed Rock, complete with errors. Solomon was many things, but a good proofreader was not one of them:

KNOW ALL MEN BY THESE PRESENTS THAT I WILLIAM G HALL OF WORCESTER IN THE OUNTY OF WORCESTER AND COMMONWELTH OF MASS IN CONSIDERATION OF 125 DOL PAID BY THE HAND OF SOLOMON PARSONS OF THE SAME WORCESTER THE RECEIPT WHERE OF I DO HEAREBY ACKNOWLEDGE DO HEAREBY GIVE GRANT SELL AND CONVAY UNTO GOD THROUGH THE LAWS OF JESUS CHRIST WHICH ARE MADE KNOWN TO MAN BY THE RECKORD OF THE TESTAMENT RECORDED BY MATHEW MARK LUKE JOHN THE EVANGELIST THIS LAND TO GOVERND BY THE ABOVE MENTIONED LAWS AND TOGATHER WITH THE SPIRIT OF GOD THE SAID TRACT OF LAND IS SITUATED IN WORCESTER ABOVE MENTIONED THE SOUTH WESTERLY PART CONTAINING TEN ACRES MORE OR LESS BOUNDED AS FOLLOWS VIZ BEGINNING AT THE SOUTHWEST OF THE LOT AT A STAKE AND STONES BY LAND OF E DANIELS THENSE EASTERLY BY LAND OF S PERRY ABOUT 97 1/2 RODS TO A CORNER OF THE FENCE THENCE NORTHERLY BY LAND OF ABOUT 54 RODS TO A CORNER OF I FOWLER ABOUT 24 RODS A CHESTNUT TREE IN THE WALL AT THE CORNER THE LAND OF SAID DANIELS AND A HEAP OF STONES BY THE SIDE OF THENCE SOUTHERLY TO THE BOUNDS FIRST MENTIONED

War Bunkers of Fort Dearborn

Of all the places I have written or plan to write about, the one I have visited more often than any other is Fort Dearborn at Odiorne Point in Rye. I've been coming here as far back as elementary school field trips in the 1980's, and I've been here as recently as the fall of 2016.

Driving into Odiorne Point, you know you're in for a good time the moment the first bunker comes into view. Like other bunkers within the park this one is a series of underground rooms and tunnels masquerading as a hill, complete with a covering of bushes and trees. The giveaways are the entrances, one of which is flanked by these impressive looking bombs.

As  much as I've wanted to see inside this first bunker, I've never found a time when it was accessible. But although it's remained tight, there's a second and larger one in the woods we've generally have better luck with thanks to those mischievous young kids. Most recently a hole had been punched through the wall near this entrance.

I almost had Logan convinced to come inside with me, but it's dark and creepy in there and he got no further than one leg through the opening before wishing me luck. Maybe next year. So in I went alone, and because I'm always so well prepared I began my journey down this long hallway with nothing other than my cell phone flashlight. The dot of light you're seeing in the distance is me looking back at the hole I crawled through.

Perhaps a dozen rooms line one entire side of the hallway, and I wandered through most of them while Tina periodically called out in her best whisper-yell to ask if I was alright.

Getting into this bunker already made that day a successful trip, so after climbing back out I was happy just to wander the trails a bit before heading home. Our wanderings eventually led us to the third bunker. This one never excited me much because not only were its entrances barred over, but giant rocks had been piled over the bars to double the protection from getting inside.

Exploring this one had always been a dead end, but here's where this day went from being good to being great. Me being curious and poking around the rocks, I found a spot that - when I lay down and sucked in my gut - I was able to slither through the rocks, around the gate, and into the bunker. Just like that I found myself standing inside bunker number three, taking selfies.

Rather than a long, straight tunnel like the previous one, this bunker sits inside in a round hill and has several twists and turns.

In the corner of one room I found this rotting, unidentifiable corpse. I concluded it was either a very large bird or the mythical chupacabra.

I also found the limits of what I was willing to do that day. This crawlspace was big enough for me to enter, but after seeing the creatures that wandered around on the upper levels of this place, that hole remained unexplored.

Looking at the graffiti it became apparent that, somehow or another, people have been getting in and out of this bunker for decades. Finally, I could add myself to that exclusive club.

Our last place to explore that day was this building in the woods. Much tamer that the war bunkers but perfect for the younger adventurers in our group.

If you live anywhere near the Seacoast and have not visited Odiorne Point yet, I suggest moving this to the top of your to-do list. It doesn't matter what your interests are because Odiorne Point has something for everyone; a playground for the younger kids, a science center for all ages, miles of trails, long stretches of sand to sunbath in, the ocean to wade through ...

... and of course my personal favorite, war bunkers.

Links:
Photo Album