Spider Gates Cemetery

Dating back to the early 1700's sits an interesting cemetery out in the woods in Leicester, MA. The hiking path is positioned between Worcester reservoir and the Worcester airport. Its true name is "Friends Cemetery" but honestly, where's the fun in that? The gates to the cemetery were installed in the late 1800's and were made to represent the "rays of the sun", but over time it became more popularly known as "Spider Gates" cemetery.

Once you visit this place you will understand why this name is much more fitting. It's a small hike down a dirt road. You really don't see much on your way but a bunch of bushes and trees, then suddenly you come across these gates that just make you want to stop and admire them. We have visited many cemeteries but this was by far one of my favorite entrances. Old and weathered stones greet you inside in no special order.

There are many stories of supposed hauntings here and if you stay awhile, you could almost see why some people would let their imagination wander. The Worcester Friends Meeting helps to maintain the land but interestingly, they do not allow any paranormal investigators. Maybe I watch too many horror movies but this is where I let my imagination run wild. What are they afraid of them finding? Though I don't personally believe in this, I still like to think of the possibilities.

As much as we love finding this kind of stuff out in the woods, our kids did not find this as intriguing. Our son had a hard time setting foot inside the gates and once it was time to head back he was the first one out of there.

Hopefully over time they will learn to appreciate this stuff and who knows, maybe someday they will be greeted with replica spider gates to our own driveway.

Tilton Arch - An Empty Tomb

Tilton New Hampshire was incorporated in 1869 and named after local businessman and resident Nathaniel Tilton. Nathaniel had a grandson named Charles, and Charles loved the town that was named after his family. He also had lots of money, and because of this was able to gift the town with luxuries such as statues and paved roads.

When Charles Tilton traveled to Rome in 1881 he visited the Arch of Titus, and was so impressed he decided it was just the thing his hometown in New Hampshire was missing. So upon his return he constructed this 55' tall replica known as the Tilton Arch.

Tilton Arch stands at the peak of a 150' hilltop, uphill from Arch Cemetery, and is surrounded by a well kept park. Access is free and makes for a perfect area to let the kids run around while you stand in awe of this monument, and if you're anything like me you'll spend several minutes doing just that. I'm not sure there's a more impressive structure in all of New Hampshire. My first time visiting I was alone but wanted to get a picture to show its size, so I waited near the cemetery for these two cooperative guys to wander up.

Rome's Arch of Titus is a monument to celebrate war, specifically the ransacking of Jerusalem during the Jewish War in Judaea. Tilton Arch is a monument to celebrate peace, specifically the "Victories of Peace rather than those of war", as dedicated by Charles Tilton. Some of the good feeling that gives you might drop a notch when learning that Charles built the arch over the former site of a Native American fort, but in those days before political correctness that didn't seem to faze anybody.

Inside the arch Charles placed a time capsule consisting of gold and silver coins, newspapers from as far away as Boston, and a book titled "Successful Men of New Hampshire" which I'm guessing contained a few entries for men with the last name Tilton. Then he added this 50-ton sarcophagus and granite lion in which Charles intended to be buried.

But here's where I start scratching my head. Charles didn't actually build the arch within the town of Tilton. He built it in the neighboring community of Northfield where it stood in view of his mansion, under the belief that Northfield would soon be incorporated into Tilton. That never happened, so upon his death Charles forsook his arch and chose to be buried in a cemetery within the town limits of Tilton, and under much more modest conditions.

Which means that not only does Tilton Arch stand forever empty, it stands forever in the wrong town.

Logan doing his best to "conquer" the Tilton Arch

Links:
Tilton's Triumphal Arch - NY Times, 1883

Mount Agamenticus

From its various uses as a military outpost, then its recreational span as a ski resort, and now to its modern popularity as a hiking conservation, Maine's Mount Agamenticus has long been synonymous with this region of New England. On a mild afternoon in the fall of 2016 we made our long overdue hike there.

This area offers 40+ miles of trails but its "peaks" are of the 500 foot variety, so knowing this was not a strenuous hike we were able to talk our kids into joining us. Together with some friends we started up the outer loop section of trails with the dummy proof plan of taking a right at every intersection, figuring we might end up back at the car but at least we wouldn't get lost. This outer loop consisted of trails named the Ring Trail, Porcupine Trail, and Tina's personal favorite, Rocky Road. She said it reminded her that we needed to pick up ice-cream on the way home.

After an enjoyable mile and a half hike, where at one point we even felt like we were going more downhill than up, we found ourselves standing on peak #2. Here is Logan, who doesn't just climb mountains he conquers them.

From there we backtracked and headed for peak #1, where all the action took place in the mountain's early years. In 1940 America's first radar tower was constructed on this spot and 25 men were stationed in barracks. Additionally, a fire tower that was built in 1918 saw usefulness during this time of war as a lookout tower peering over the Atlantic. This was a short lived outpost which burned down in 1944, and with WWII ending it was not rebuilt. The fire tower remained and in 1981 was replaced with a newer model that is still there today. It was a 60-foot tease to us however, since unlike the towers we have in New Hampshire this one is gated off-limits to the public, even though it's still in use and presumably safe.

Following its short stint as a military hill, Mt Agamenticus then opened as a ski resort in 1964 under the name “The Big A”. Unlike the larger mountains up north where snow is more plentiful, The Big A suffered from low snowfall and shut down after just 9 years, leaving several former ski trails to morph into the hiking paths we enjoy today. Happily, other remnants of its former life remain and make for some good exploring. Like Logan on the mountaintop, I don't just explore old remains, I conquer them.

If scenic views are your thing you probably want to head straight for peak #1, where the view is beautiful for nearly 360 degrees. On the cement base where the radio tower used to stand is now this lookout deck, our final stop for the day.

Whether you're looking for a beginner's hike or a grueling day-long excursion, Mt Agamenticus has something for everyone and easily satisfied our desire for adventure that day. How much did we enjoy Mt Agamenticus? Rather than try to put it into words, I'll simply show you Tina at the end of the day as she was saying goodbye to the final trail.

Links:
The Mount Agamenticus Conservation Region

Devil's Den Cave in New Durham

I'm not sure what New Hampshire has less of; caves in the wild, or originality when naming our caves in the wild. This summer we plan on searching for Devil's Den Cave in Barrington, last summer we explored Devil's Den Cave in Pawtuckaway State Park, and this weekend we successfully located Devil's Den Cave in New Durham. In New Hampshire at least, the devil is a bigger real estate mogul than Donald Trump.

We made the trek to Devil's Den New Durham over a layer of snow just crispy enough to support every other step. The first half of our hike offered some cool sights, such as the beginnings of this fort some half-ambitious person started constructing out of life-sized lincoln logs.

Soon after we veered off the main course and up a winding trail I believed would shortcut us to the cave. Red marks began appearing on trees, which seemed like a pretty good indication we were headed to something devil related. A mile later we arrived at a cliff which from there our directions said to follow to the right. I had done a good job getting us to this point, but if not for Tina spotting this partly-hidden arrow under the snow I would had led us right past the cave and possibly to a day of futile searching.

Devil's Den Cave is a narrow crevice formed between two giant slabs of rock, and the entrance requires you to hop into this hole and butt-slide your way through the opening.

When faced with daunting challenges such as this in our adventures, we usually proceed in order of common sense and start with the least. So into the hole I went.

Flashlight in hand, I wormed my way into the cave and was greeted with this surprise - through an entrance I had struggled to fit my body someone had maneuvered this wooden ladder. It was aged - some of the rungs were broken and replaced by rope, plus it had come unattached from the rock - but by bracing my body against the far wall I made it to the bottom and took this picture of Tina testing out the ladder herself.

I was impressed she'd made it this far but Tina had no desire to test the sturdiness of the remaining wooden rungs, so I began my trek to the far side of the cave alone. Devil's Den is much too narrow to walk along the bottom, so the only way across is higher up along various ledges such as this one on the left.

Which were just wide enough for me to balance-beam my way across.

Fortunately an opening on the far side of the cave meant I could exit there, and I emerged triumphantly having conquered version #2 of Devil's Den New Hampshire.

 

Even if the possibility of climbing into a hole and getting wedged underground like a cork doesn't excite you, this is a great area to hike and well worth an afternoon just to see the cliffs.

Maybe for our next trip I'll even get Tina to repel down one of them. Of course, I would have to go first.