The Kilton Mica Mine

After a recent post about the New Hampshire 5-town rock, my youngest daughter threatened to disown me if wrote any more articles about any more rocks. As I remember it, the words "dork" and "weirdo" were peppered throughout the conversation. So as you wish, Madison. Today I'm not going to write about any rocks. In fact, today I'll do the opposite and write about the absence of rocks; specifically, the Kilton Mica Mine in the western part of our state.

The Kilton Mica Mine is located in the mountains of Grafton New Hampshire, where the Eureka Mining company leased property from M. M. Kilton and began operations in 1914. They were actually in search of a feldspar deposit, but a fair amount of mica crystals were removed from the site which, not being part of the mining lease, were taken by the land owner for himself.

I had spent an unsuccessful afternoon once already looking for this site, but a month later found myself passing through the area and decided to give it one more try. I started off optimistically enough, but after several hours roaming the mountain I was bug-bitten, sweaty, and ready to scratch this place off my treasure map for good. That's when I spotted a group of hikers coming from the direction I was going. We chatted a bit, and I learned one of them had actually been to Kilton Mine as a kid. He pointed me to the next mountain over and said it was somewhere on the far side, and to make sure I was careful of the deep pit near the top. These directions eventually did the trick, and on the crazy chance a hiker named Jason ever reads this blog and remembers that encounter, I owe you an adventure. Or a beer.

I've recently gotten into the habit of doing a couple things with my adventures. One is that I'll shoot a quick video just after finding whatever it was I'd been looking for; the other is that right before I show you that video, I'll find myself having to explain something goofy that I did in it. Here's today's situation. The road that leads to this mountain is called Kilton Road; the pond that sits nearby is called Kilton Pond; and the last name of the former landowner was Kilton. I guess I should have no problem remembering what the name of the mine is, right?

Like many other mines I've visited, the entrance to Kilton begins with a tall, narrow cut through rock.

A cut ending at a place that, with its various pillars and chambers, looked like what you'd get if Ruggles Mine had a child.

To the right were these flooded rooms, a little too deep to mess with on this fall afternoon.

But to the left was the goal of each and every mine I set out in search of; a tunnel.

It extended perhaps a hundred feet into the mountain before dead-ending at the bottom of the pit I'd been warned not to fall into. Light shining down lit up a beautiful cascade of icicles, making a picturesque ending to my day.

But Kilton Mine was such an enjoyable place, I set out last month to revisit it with friends. We arrived to a layer of unbroken snow, confirming my suspicion that this is not a well known of or visited mine.

Several bonuses came from making this return trip during the winter. First is that the ice allowed us to explore those caverns that were otherwise flooded, which subsequently allowed me to plant some easter eggs throughout the cavern walls.

Second was at the bottom of the pit, where this giant sheet of ice extended down like a frozen waterfall.

And it was behind this icefall that I found the third surprise of the day, in that this is not the end of the mine. A crawl space led to another chamber that I'd missed my first time here, and almost missed again if not for the fact I'd been looking so closely at the ice sheet. To enter this new room would require crawling or even sliding along the ice, but our March temperatures were just warm enough that only a thin sheet of ice covered the enclosed room, and when I pushed on it the sheet went floating off into the darkness. I dunked my hiking stick into the water to the point my lower arm was submerged, but still could not feel bottom. This tells me that what I thought was a crawl space was actually the ceiling of a full-size chamber, flooded except for the last couple of feet.

I went home that afternoon still not able to cross the Kilton Mineshaft off my to-do list. That won't happen until next January, when temperatures are cold enough to freeze even the deepest regions of the mine, and I can crawl inside this hidden chamber to find out just what secrets it has to offer.

Precious Blood Cemetery

Some guys choose to romance their wives with run-of-the-mill gifts such as flowers or jewelry. These old-fashioned tricks may still work on some women, but the way to my wife's heart is an afternoon spent exploring a brand new cemetery. And if the name of that cemetery resembles something out of a Stephen King novel - such as the Precious Blood Cemetery - well, you probably just earned yourself a night of free beers, mister.

Precious Blood Cemetery is located in Woonsocket, RI, and the first thing to know about this place is that don't go judging a book by its cover. Or its name. This is a cemetery that above all else is known for its beauty. There are monuments here that would rival the best that nationally famous cemeteries such as Mt. Auburn have to offer.

Where it differs from Mt. Vernon, or some of the other "Garden Style" cemeteries, is that the majority of Precious Blood is actually filled with very modest headstones. It's the remaining 25% that will stop you in your tracks.

Most impressive of them all, and what originally put this cemetery on my treasure map of places to visit, is Aram Pothier's family mausoleum. Pothier was a six time Governor of Rhode Island, who served at various times from 1909 until his death in 1928. He was once the town's most notable resident, and with his peristyle monument standing atop one of the highest peaks, he is perhaps the cemetery's most notable resident as well.

But amidst all this extravagance, there was just as much charm to be found in the simplest of memorials.

In addition to its beautiful side, Precious Blood Cemetery has an ominous one, as well. In 1955, Hurricane Diane came roaring through town, breeching a dam along the Blackstone River and flooding Woonsocket, creating the worst natural disaster the town had every seen. Saturation pushed over 50 coffins out of the earth, with many being carried away before breaking apart and scattering bones all throughout town. Care was taken to piece the skeletons back together and return them to their original graves, but legend says that at the end of cleanup townsfolk were left much like I was after assembling our gas grill this past summer - thinking they'd completed the job but still staring at a bag of leftover parts. Because of this, spirits are said to roam the cemetery to this day, searching for their missing bones.

For a while last summer, while I was rehabbing a hip that would qualify for replacement if Mother Nature offered a lemon law, Tina and I took to spending our weekends walking cemeteries as an enjoyable way to get some non-strenuous exercise. Some were more interesting than others, but Precious Blood was in a category almost by itself. Which got me to thinking.

I googled a list of art museums in and around Boston, and according to the folks at tripadvisor.com at the time of this writing, the average ticket price for the top ten art museums near Boston is just over $15 per person. Not to take anything away from what those great places have to offer - in fact learning there was a Normal Rockwell museum added a new place to my treasure map - but if you're simply looking for a way to enjoy some beautiful sculptures, I'll argue that you cannot do much better than an afternoon spent wandering the Precious Blood Cemetery.

And the cost of admission? Only the gas it took to get you there.

Links:
Blackstone River Flood, Bodies Recovered - Providence Public Library
Images of America, Woonsocket - by Robert R Bellerose
Top Art Museum In The Boston Area - tripadvisor.com