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.