Archive for the ‘abandoned home’ Category

Illumination

The Abandoned Columbia University Instrument House

Written by: Wilk

Photographs by: Wilk

“In Lumine Tuo Videbimis Lumen.” This is the official motto of New York’s Columbia University, one of the most prestigious educational institutes in all of the United States. And in true educational institute fashion, this phrase is Latin. The translation is “In thy light shall we see light.” Believe it or not, this comes from straight from the Bible. What this official university motto is supposed to inspire has often been debated. Most scholars agree that this is a calling to find God’s light and move forward in faith. Others have said that this pertains more to always seek knowledge and truth in whatever you pursue. As a non-religious person, I agree with the latter. Knowledge truly is power. Especially in 2022. In a world full of clickbait and misinformation, it is so important to always be smart and learn what you can when you can. There is so much out there to know and to learn. And sadly, most people just aren’t interested in it. They are content just believing what they are told to believe, think what they are told to think, and buy what they are told to buy. That’s probably why our world has become as tribal as it is. Think for yourself and always seek knowledge. I am no student of Columbia University. In fact, I attended a much lower tier Connecticut state university for my degree. But that is how I interpret the motto of this prestigious institute. Oh, and by the way, did you know that Columbia University once had a satellite campus here in Connecticut? Talk about a segue.

That’s right. A long time ago, in a town most people have never heard of, Columbia University once had a presence here in the Nutmeg State. Our story begins in the late 1800’s, in the town of Morris, Connecticut. Located in the beautiful hills of Litchfield, the town attracted the attention of Columbia University’s Engineering School. Slowly but surely, the school began to migrate it’s summer classes over to the small and affluent community. And in 1903, they finally purchased a plot of farmland with the intention of establishing a rural summer campus. Thus it was christened as Camp Columbia. Over the years, the small campus grew in size and shape. Every summer engineering and surveying students studied their chosen crafts amongst the quiet community. During the First World War, students intent on joining the Officer’s Corp got first hand military training. The now famous observation tower was constructed several years later as a gift from the Class of 1906. According to local legends, Dwight D. Eisenhower once used the campus as a hunting ground and the New York Giants held several practice sessions on the campus sporting fields. But prominence during the 1950’s eventually led to a massive decline during the next two decades. With a changing culture, interest in the campus’s structure and program decreased drastically. And in 1983, Columbia University was finally forced to close up shop and sell the land. What remains now resides in Camp Columbia State Park.

We weren’t entirely sure we were going to have an article ready for this quarter. I have been more busy with movies in the last few months than I ever have been in my entire life. And Lassie has been equally busy working as the best damn educator in the state. While we greatly enjoy our success, it hasn’t left much time for exploring. Plus, our host site (WordPress) keeps becoming increasingly uncooperative and difficult to use. It may be time to migrate to Squarespace…but that’s neither here nor there. Speaking of movies, I had a series of night shoots out in Fairfield County recently. Night shoots are just as much fun as they are grueling. But the funny thing about night shoots is the call times are always very late in the day. So I had some time to kill. That’s right. This was another solo piece, where I went exploring without my partner. I don’t like it any more than you may, but sometimes it’s good to go on an adventure by yourself. That’s how you learn who you really are. And guess what? The old Camp Columbia just happened to be right around the corner from where I was working. With good weather and high spirits, I decided to go take a look. I arrived at Camp Columbia State Park as one of only two other visitors. It is a very quiet and quaint park, that is maintained just enough to keep it walkable. And honestly, these are my favorite kinds of parks. It’s the kind of place that nobody knows about, except for the people that are really going to enjoy it.

When the state of Connecticut bought the former Camp Columbia, they demolished most of the campus buildings. But not all. The main attraction is known as The Instrument House. This beautiful stone building once housed all of the campus’s surveying instruments and equipment. And while she was clearly left standing for a reason, the years have not been kind to her. The stone exterior is very elegant, but the interior of the house is completely devoid. The wooden roof is slowly collapsing in on itself. Spray painted graffiti is everywhere. Old pieces of lab equipment and such have been scattered across the dusty floor. With that said, it’s still an absolutely captivating structure with a strong foundation. It provides a very nice look back on the bygone era of the former campus, casting a strong sense of prestige and academia. Just like the nearby observation tower. Though not abandoned, the Camp Columbia tower stands very close by to the Instrument House. I was expecting something more along the lines of Scott Tower, but was pleasantly surprised to find the tower in moderately good condition. It definitely has a vandal problem, much like the nearby Instrument House, but it is a nice site to see and provides a wonderful view of Litchfield County. Other relics of the past are scattered amongst the underbrush. An old basketball hoop rusts into oblivion. A team of derelict picnic tables rot into the fertile forest floor. Trails of lead piping pop up across the fallen leaves.

On my travels, I encountered a very nice elderly woman taking her chocolate lab named Libby for a walk. She was kind enough to warn me that there was a hunter in the area, at the corner of the red and orange trail. He was perched in a tree stand, like a coward, and had all of the permits to be there. She checked, and she’s a total badass for doing that. I greatly thanked my fellow hiker for her warning, especially since neither of us were wearing orange, and continued on my walk. I was sure to whistle old classic rock songs very loudly to clearly identify myself as a human being. No deer is going to do that…at least I hope. With the light fading and my time just about up, it was finally time to head back to the car and off to movieland. I honestly wasn’t sure what I was going to find at the abandoned Camp Columbia. But I’m very glad that I got to see it. There’s just a wonderful mix of history and intrigue here. There isn’t much to see in regards to real deal urban exploration, but it’s absolutely worth a look if you’re a history nut like myself. The Instrument House is a haunting relic and climbing the observation tower is a really fun experience. It just goes to show that you never know what’s out there until you go looking for yourself. Sometimes the best journey you can go on is with yourself. And sometimes the most interesting things to learn are in places that you never thought to look. Never stop seeking knowledge. Never stop seeking the truth. Never stop seeking the light.

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The Last Hummingbird – The Abandoned Highover Estate

Posted: September 19, 2022 by kingleser in #postaday, Abandoned, Abandoned Attractions, Abandoned Castle, Abandoned Connecticut, Abandoned Farm, abandoned home, Abandoned House, Abandoned Massachusetts, abandoned new england, Abandoned New Hampshire, Abandoned New York, Abandoned Park, Abandoned Pennsylvania, Abandoned Places, Abandoned Resort, Abandoned Rhode Island, Abandoned Statues, Abandoned USA, Abandoned Vermont, Abandoned Wonders, Art, Birds, Boston, Closed, darkness, Death, Destruction, Exploration, fire, Forgotten, forgotten beauty, forgotten home, Haunting, Hiking, History, House, Information, left behind, lost, Massachusetts, Movies, Mystery, nature, new england, photography, Preserved Ruin, Public Parks, research, Ruins, Safety First, time, Uncategorized, Urban Decay, Urban Exploration, Urban Exploring, Urbex, writing
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The Last Hummingbird

The Abandoned Highover Estate

Written by: Wilk

Photographs by: Lassie

Summer has come and passed. The innocence can never last. Wake me up when September ends. Well, that’s just about now. So wake up, everyone. We’re back. But the summer season has taken its final bow. And we are currently on the fast track toward the end of the year. It all just goes by so fast, doesn’t it? Time keeps on slipping into the future. I close my eyes only for a moment and the moment’s gone. Every year is getting shorter, never seem to find the time. Alright. No more classic rock lyrics. Wait a minute. Is Green Day considered classic rock now? Damn I got old. Seriously, though. I always measure the days of summer by the hummingbirds. We have two feeders sitting outside on our back porch and we love to watch them. The little birds first start sparingly appearing in early June. By July, there are dozens of them waging nasty territorial battles for control of the skies. But by August, things begin to quiet down. The birds fly off one by one into the great unknown. The days fall off the calendar. The sunshine fades away. And the glorious season of summer fun disappears into our collective memories. Gone. But not forgotten. And as I currently write the words of this article, only one hummingbird sits outside.

As I mentioned to you earlier, we’re experimenting with quarterly articles this year as opposed to monthly ones. A: we were just getting too busy with school, work, movies, etc. And B: frankly, we’re just running out of abandoned places to cover that are nearby. For years now, it has become increasingly hard to find quality abandoned places that have a story to tell. But there is one that has been on my list for a couple years now. And interestingly enough, nobody that we follow has covered it yet. So allow me to introduce the subject of Quarter #3 of 2022’s article: The abandoned Highover Estate. Located in what is now Beverly, Massachusetts, this area was once well known as Moraine Farm. It was famously owned by the high-society elite family of Boston: The Phillips Family. For years they lived on and managed the farm, and in 1913 the family built their lavish estate known as “Highover.” But in 1968, tragedy struck and the family mansion was destroyed by a raging fire. The remains were subsequently abandoned and the land sat empty for several long years. It was saved, however, when the grounds officially changed hands to the town of Beverly in the early 1990’s, and the JC Phillips Nature Preserve was established.

We made our trek to the abandoned Highover Estate during the final days of summer 2022. It was a bit of a drive for us. So we decided to make an overnight trip of it. Most people don’t seem to realize it, but there’s actually quite a bit to do north of Boston. Gloucester. Salem. Danvers. All great towns. But maybe it’s better that they stay more low-key destinations. That’s the way we like it. Except for Salem in October. If you dig big crowds, long lines, tourist traps, costumed characters, overpriced beer, and religious zealots yelling at you from street corners, you’ll love it. If you’re an awkward introvert like myself, it will NOT be your cup of tea. Anyhow, this place had been on my list for a very long time. And we were finally on our way to see it. The sun was shining, there was a bit of traffic, and we arrived at the JC Phillips Nature Preserve ready for some adventure. It was a quiet place. A few dog walkers perused the area. But for the most part, we were alone. Just the way I like it. The abandoned Highover Estate is not marked on any map, so we did have to go in more or less blind. But lucky for us, the abandoned estate is rather easy to find. As we meandered down the main trail, we soon found exactly what we were looking for.

The main blue trail of the nature preserve passes straight through the abandoned estate. The old iron gate still stands, though now fully overtaken by wild vine and vegetation. A trail bulletin board with historical facts on it is now rotting into oblivion. But the main attraction of this place lies a short walk up the neighboring hill. The estate’s former fountain still resides amongst the fertile forest floor and watching over it is the final surviving piece of the Highover Mansion. It is quite odd looking, honestly. Almost like a white room standing all alone amongst the underbrush. Three walls and a floor, or what’s left of them. Though now coated with graffiti and full of trash, it still casts a strong sense of character. We honestly took a ton of pictures as its just a very photogenic piece. See for yourself above and below. A short walk down the trail lie a few more broken down foundations and structures. It honestly feels like at this point you’ve seen everything there is to see. But if you continue long enough, you will find a small copper statue perched upon a stone pedestal in the middle of the trail. This was honestly my favorite part of the abandoned grounds, as it still has so much character to it. Even being such a small piece.

To be perfectly honest, there isn’t too much to see here. If you’re a hardcore urban explorer, this place will disappoint you. But if you’re a hiker or a photographer, you will enjoy this one. The photos we got just have their own weird sense of charm and derelict dignity. Looking back though, the abandoned Highover Estate still truly puzzles me. For years, she has sat alone in the forest. Many have come and gone past its ruins. But most never seem to take notice. And those that do notice have not been very nice to it. Time and time again we have seen places like this get cleaned up, renovated, and reborn into places of public interest. But the abandoned estate has had no such luck so far. She just continues her steady decline into oblivion. I encourage anyone who is looking for a good hike and a bit of legal mischief to check this place out. It’s honestly perfect for people wanting to get into urban exploring, but don’t know how. There isn’t too much to see, but what is there is very cool and very photogenic. Because whether by the hands of a local cleanup crew or the slow decay of time, I don’t see this place lasting much longer. Not in the state that it’s in. So plan your trips now. For just like the days of summer, nothing last forever.

Parts Unknown – The Abandoned Tidal Marsh Polar Bear

Posted: November 17, 2021 by kingleser in #postaday, Abandoned, Abandoned Attractions, Abandoned Boston, Abandoned Cape Cod, Abandoned Connecticut, abandoned home, Abandoned Massachusetts, abandoned new england, Abandoned New Hampshire, Abandoned New York, Abandoned Park, Abandoned Pennsylvania, Abandoned Places, Abandoned Railway, Abandoned Rhode Island, Abandoned Road, Abandoned Statues, Abandoned Tower, Abandoned train station, Abandoned USA, Abandoned Vermont, Abandoned Wonders, Broken, Cedar Hill, Closed, commercial, Connecticut, darkness, Death, Destruction, Exploration, exploring the abandoned, Forgotten, forgotten beauty, Haunting, Hiking, History, Homeless, Information, left behind, lost, Movies, Mystery, nature, new england, nightmares, overgrown, photography, Public Parks, research, Ruins, Safety First, Searching, State Parks, Stories, time, Trains, Uncategorized, Urban Decay, Urban Exploration, Urban Exploring, Urbex, writing
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Parts Unknown

The Abandoned Tidal Marsh Polar Bear

Written by: Wilk

Photographs by: Lassie

We have a lot of secrets here at Abandoned Wonders. I think that just comes with the territory of what we do. We used to be very open with our identities and personalities on here. But as our page grew and the places we explored became increasingly dangerous, we decided to go underground. We use codenames. We never show our faces. We never let anything slip about our personal lives. But there’s something I’ve been alluding to for years. I’ve left lots of references here and there, hoping someone might pick up on them. Things like dilapidated boats, the Devil’s playground, and Cowboy Shit. But nobody ever has gotten any of my references. So I guess I might as well come out and say it: I am a huge pro wrestling fan. Yep. Not the WWE. Never the WWE. But Impact Wrestling and All Elite Wrestling are my two can’t miss shows every week. I’ve been a wrestling fan since the second grade, when a classmate traded me a TOPPS trading card of wrestler Kane for a Micro-machines X-Wing. Kane quickly became my favorite wrestler. He was big. He was scary. And he was always billed from a place called “Parts Unknown.” I soon came to realize that all of the mysterious characters in the world of pro wrestling came from this place. Kane. The Ultimate Warrior. Abyss. Papa Shango. All came from Parts Unknown. As a kid, I always envisioned it as this mystical jungle. Where the skies were grey. The trees grew wild and dangerous. And monsters were around every corner.

For our final expedition of 2021, we chose a place very familiar to us. We first covered the abandoned Cedar Hill Railyard way back in the fall of 2014. It’s hard to believe just how long ago that was. Long story short, Cedar Hill was once part of the Northern Atlantic railroad. This system ferried goods up and down the Eastern seaboard, keeping the economy booming and hundreds in employment. But with a changing tide, it was eventually forced to close down. The Amtrack system still runs very close by, but this area was then left become the feral monster that we visited way back when. Everything was unkempt. There was a serious homeless problem. And the abandoned skeletal remains of the railyard were everywhere. But in recent times, the area has become redeveloped into a hiking trail. We always love to see places like this get brought back to life. That said, several abandoned structures from the railyard’s past are still standing. And at the furthest corner of the trail, a local artist has created something very special. Their codename is “refractualism.” And you can check out more of their work here –https://instagram.com/refractualism/ In an old warehouse, using fallen roofing and debris, this creative mind has constructed a 14 foot tall polar bear sculpture. This wasn’t for money, fame, or fortune. Just for expression. Though few are ever able to find it, this fascinating structure has become the talk of the town and the prime destination for the trail.

Naturally, we had to go check this out. I figured it would be the perfect end to our season. Especially because we have stayed out of Connecticut for the entire year. We have almost exclusively been exploring things in Massachusetts. It was time to hit something a little closer to home. After having not seen the abandoned railyard since its redevelopment, it was quite a shock to see how much has changed. Though there is now a nice trail going along the marsh, most of the area we once explored has become completely overgrown. That said, the amount of liter and other creepy stuff has been greatly reduced since our last visit. Using our old knowledge of the railyard and some geographical intel, we were able to place the polar bear’s location no problem. Getting there was the challenge. The Tidal Marsh Trail is great, until it gets deep into the woods. Then all sense of direction falls by the wayside and you basically have to guide yourself around. We had to do a lot of crouching and climbing through the underbrush for this one. But if you follow the bear tracks, you will find what you are looking for. We passed by two archaic brick lookout towers. But they were both filled with garbage and graffiti. The homeless clearly haven’t been totally removed either, as each tower had a makeshift campsite set up at the farthest perch. Eventually, we came upon the massive decaying warehouse. And inside waiting for us, we found the Tidal Marsh Polar Bear.

As I mentioned before, the bear stands 14 feet tall. It is made entirely of roofing debris that has fallen from the decaying warehouse. It is held together by an amalgamation of nails, both old and new. The whole thing was then painted a ghostly shade of grayish white. The face was then carefully crafted at the front with two corned ears and a gaping mouth full of fangs. As if the beast were caught in a perpetual roar. Black doll-like eyes have been painted on as well. They are just as welcoming as they are frightening. I spent a good while just looking the beast deep into those black eyes. Yet I saw nothing in them. There is an odd sense of wonder about this peculiar structure. The polar bear has been standing for over a year now. And the slow decay of time is clearly starting to show amongst her outer hull. Several key pieces have fallen off and there is a bit of rust growing along the left side. But other than that, the polar bear has been left remarkably untouched. The only graffiti was the artist themselves tagging their name across their unique creation. The warehouse itself, on the other hand, looks as if a strong wind might blow the whole thing over. The polar bear is pretty big, yet looks quite small inside the greater building. Plenty of old machinery and relics have been left behind. Everything is rusted to Hell. The wood is wet with rot. The frame shakes with uneasiness. And the floor is coated with broken glass, jagged metal, and dirty brown water.

Eventually, it was time to go. We had gotten all the pictures we could and finally bid farewell to the great wooden beast. The walk back was a bit of a challenge. Much like the walk in, the underbrush of the old railyard is a God Damn labyrinth. On our way back, we came across a few slack-jawed graffiti taggers marveling over what looked like a fallen tree. But as we approached, we realized that it was actually an old rail tower that had finally come down. The forces of nature can be quick and cruel. And they are clearly starting to finally overtake what was once the Cedar Hill Railyard. But I am glad to see that the polar bear is still standing. I do not know if she will survive another winter. I recommend anyone wishing to see her go as soon as you can. For this very place reminded me very much of what Parts Unknown must be like in the mythical world of pro wrestling. If it were to actually come to life. Ever after all these years of redevelopment, you never quite know what you’re going to find out here. The old railyard is no longer the scary and off-putting wasteland that it once was. But some things about it remained all the same. Now, it is a mystical place where our world and the natural one have found a unique balance. For the time being, that is. Because at the end of the day, the wild always wins. The vegetation grows untamed. Great steel towers fall from the sky. Mystery lies around every corner. The former world passes away, and another one rises to take its place. Here there be monsters.

Last Looks

The Abandoned South Weymouth Naval Air Station

Written by: Wilk

Photographs by: Lassie

We lost a dear friend of ours two weeks ago. It still hurts thinking about him. We’d known him for over ten years, and I personally worked with him on over a hundred different movies/commercials/TV shows/live performances/etc. So this piece is dedicated to Special Effects wizards, friend of the site, and all around stand-up guy Skippy. I hadn’t seen him since the pandemic started. The last time I saw him, we were working together on a short film up in Worcester, MA. But the sad part is, I had no idea that this would be the last time we’d see each other. It makes my heart break, wishing I had known, and wishing I had told him how good of a friend he was to both Lassie and I. It’s an unsettling fact that many of us take for granted. Whenever you spend time with someone, you very well could be seeing them for the last time. And you’d have no idea. Life moves so slow sometimes. But when it moves fast, it’s amazing how much you can lose in the blink of an eye. So to everyone reading this, I have a homework assignment for you. A dare, even. Reach out to someone you haven’t talked to in awhile. You never know how much hearing from you might mean to them. And always make sure your friends and loved ones know how you feel. Don’t leave things left unsaid. You never know when you might be seeing them for the last time.

This month’s subject is something that’s been on our list for a very long time. But since it was so far away, we just never found the time to go see it. But with a film premiere in Boston, we decided to take a pit stop on our way up. This is the abandoned South Weymouth Naval Air Station. This place is legendary amongst our community, and for good reason. There’s honestly too much history here to fit into one little paragraph, so I would like to take this opportunity to give a shout-out to another friend of the site, Jason Allard. He is an absolute pro, and his “Abandoned From Above” series is one of our favorite things to watch. A couple of months ago, he did a fabulous video on this place that I cannot recommend it enough. Here is the link – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_tpCtUOkCb0 And if you have time, please do give him a subscribe. If you’re in New England, he does some of the best work we’ve ever seen. But if you prefer to read, here are some quick facts. The base was first opened during the early days of WWII. It’s main claim to fame was being the main headquarters of the US Navy’s anti-submarine blimp division. During the Cold War, it transitioned into a more traditional airfield focused around homeland defense. The base was unfortunately forced to close it’s doors for good in the late 1990’s due to military budget cuts.

The defunct air base now lies spanning across the towns of Abington, Weymouth, and Rockland. And her former territory is slowly being taken over. Apartment buildings and construction keep creeping closer and closer to the property. Last year, arsonists burned down several of the smaller buildings on the far side of the base. Now all that stands are the two derelict control towers and a few small hangar bays. It was over a mile trekking across the old runway to get to our destination. Though the sky was grey, the tips of the towers began to peak through the treeline. And I can tell you know, the towers are breathtaking. Like I said earlier, there are two towers. Orange and White. Orange Tower is the first one to greet you on the trail. It is the older of the two, has a strong military atheistic, and is in the worst shape. Broken glass, watermelon rinds, and empty spray paint bottles coat the ground. The tower casts a long, grim shadow over the land. Though we were able to get inside, we did not climb to the top of this one. The staircase is easily accessible, but its steps are absolutely rusted to Hell. They are coated in graffiti, and most are now just flimsy/jagged metal that look like they could collapse at any moment. So we unfortunately had to enjoy Orange Tower from the ground. But even from down here, it is truly a sight to behold.

White Tower, on the other hand, is a completely different animal. Unlike Orange Tower, this one was never actually used. The base was shut down before construction could be completed. It has a more modern look and feel to it. Almost like something you’d see at an airport, as opposed to a military base. Lying a few dozen yards down the path, this grand monolith stands tall and foreboding against the cold sky. What I found most unusual about White Tower is that it appears to be much more untouched than its counterpart. With Orange Tower, stuff was all over the ground. Graffiti was everywhere. It feels absolutely trashed. Though clearly scarred by her more vicious visitors, the spirit of White Tower still appears to be quite strong. As if only the brave or the stupid continue forward to see it. Well, we were both today, because we climbed all the way to the top of this old guardian. We went up floor after floor, witnessing true urban decay and destruction everywhere we looked. Unlike Orange Tower, the stairs were quite sturdy. Clearly not too much stuff had been left behind either. Though whenever we did come across some old relics, they had been absolutely destroyed. We even got a peak down the old elevator shaft. And once we finally reached the top, the view is quite grand. A mist was in the air, and we could see all across Eastern Massachusetts.

As I mentioned earlier, there are a few smaller hangar bays still left standing on the far side of the base. But there really isn’t too much to see here. They are absolutely coated in graffiti and filled to the brim with garbage. Probably because they are much closer to the road and much easier to access than the two towers. During our long walk back to the car, I would periodically turn around and look back at White and Orange peaking through the treetops. They grew smaller and less visible the farther we moved away. Eventually, they completely disappeared from sight. Vanishing amongst the thick treeline and fading sunlight. It made me a little bit sad knowing that I would probably never see them again. With the continuing development of the land and the persistent vandal problem, it’s hard to say just how much longer these old warhorses have left. Time will tell. But I would highly recommend a visit to any experienced urban explorers. This place is definitely not for beginners, tourists, or the faint of heart. As always, I encourage any potential visitors to please be safe and respectful. The abandoned South Weymouth Naval Air Station is truly an amazing place, and let’s try to keep it that way for as long as possible. It’s an adventure that I will certainly never forget, and a place that I hope to someday see again. But until that day comes, goodbye for now.

Feeding the Birds

The Abandoned Batterson Park

Written by: Wilk

Photographs by: Lassie

Last September, we finally moved out of the city. It was something I had been looking forward to for a long time. Not just because of Covid, or the ever increasing crime rate. I just really missed the woods. I missed looking out my front door and seeing trees. I missed waking up to the sounds of birds singing. I missed looking up at the stars on dark nights. You get none of that in the city. One thing we started doing again was feeding the birds. In the city, you basically get the same batch of shrewd little birds day in and day out. But we thought, now that we’re out in the country, we might finally get some interesting avian visitors. But we were wrong. For the first few weeks, that is. We bought our bird seed. We set up our feeder. And we waited. But nobody came. The feeder stayed quiet for days on end. No birds would even come near it. Until one day a large redheaded woodpecker, whom I have come to call The Harbinger, showed up. He came from the woods in our backyard, as if driven by some otherworldly force. He ate from the feeder until he nearly burst. When he was finished, he perched himself up on the railing of our deck, and began to sing. His calls pierced through the trees and echoed through the forest. And before long, birds of all shapes and sizes began flocking to the feeder. All at once. They had heard the call, and they had come to feed.

Allow me to introduce the subject of our June article: the abandoned Batterson Park. This is another one that I have had my eye on for a long time and one that no other major explorers have covered. I have always been a sucker for abandoned parks. There’s just something really special about them and the stories of how they got this way. It’s just fascinating how a place like this eventually fades away from thought and time. Even after being enjoyed by so many for so long. First established in the early twentieth century, Batterson Park was created from land once designated as a reservoir. It is unique in that it covers three different towns. Though the park is officially under the Hartford system, it actually exists outside of the city limits. The landmass of the park stretches across parts of Farmington and New Britain. It is all centered around the large and aptly named Batterson Park Pond. But this uniqueness would eventually lead to the park’s downfall. For many years, the towns that Batterson Park belonged to were never able to reach a deal on who would be paying to maintain the park and its amenities. In the fall of 2015, the park was forced to close its doors for good due to budget cuts. It has remained shuttered and forgotten ever since. Many deals and sales have been proposed over the years, but nothing has yet to come to fruition.

As I mentioned to you earlier, this place had been on my radar for awhile. We just never quite had the time to check it out. But, since it’s just about summertime, we were in the market for some new shoes. And let me tell you, there is no better place for explorer shoes than REI in West Hartford. No, we aren’t getting paid to say that. They’re just that good. Check them out if your outdoorsy. Since it was a nice day, after shoe shopping, we decided to take a stop at the nearby abandoned Batterson Park. It is a quiet section of town. And arriving at the deserted park is a little perplexing. The gate is down. But there are several heavily trafficked paths around it. There are signs up saying that the park has been closed. But then there are other signs welcoming you to the park and listing its hours. Mixed messages. No matter. Sitting right alongside the beautiful Batterson Pond, the park is easily accessible. We weren’t too sure about being there at first, but after running into a few other young adults with their dogs, our worries were laid to rest. The abandoned park may be on the small side, but there is also quite a lot to see. Walking through the old gates, you are immediately greeted by a rotting sign. It lists the admission prices to the park from days long since past. My how times have changed. And as we continued down the road, things just got more interesting.

Things are quiet. Very quiet. There has clearly been some fire damage here, as one building near the entrance has been completely burned out. Most of the other buildings have been boarded up, but a few can still be accessed. Inside you will find nothing but old equipment and lots of chairs. The beach’s dock is still floating in the waters of the pond. Several old lifeguard chairs rot off to the side. A maintenance shed sits wide open, and it is full of old disused equipment. A basketball court and pavilion are slowly being overgrown. Forgotten grills and fire pits still stand amongst the brush. The main boathouse curiously still has a few boats under its roof, but they appear to be in good condition. Let’s keep it that way. Perhaps they are just being stored there. But the main star attraction, and the whole reason I am writing this article, is the sea of picnic tables. A little way’s down the main path, there are dozens of derelict picnic tables standing in formation. Their green paint is slowly peeling. Bushes and vegetation is engulfing them. And combined with the dead silence of the old park, they provide a very eerie spectacle to behold. They truly encapsulated the sad story of the abandoned park. A place that was once designed for recreation and fun, now lies empty and cold. The memories stacked up and locked away like these ghostly old picnic tables.

The abandoned Batterson Park was certainly a unique visit. Though there was not too much to see here, the silent army of forgotten picnic tables really provided a haunting window into this place’s long lost past. Plus the park appears to be relatively untouched by the outside world. For now, that is. Who knows what the future holds. It reminded me very much of our bird feeder when we first moved in. You see, we urban explorers are like the wild birds. When one of us finds something good, they usually let out a song of their own to beckon others to come get a taste. And though I do not consider myself The Harbinger, I know that by posting this article, many other explorers will soon be coming to take a look at Batterson Park. And one of the most interesting things I have noticed from feeding the birds is that there are two types of visitors. First, there is the Chickadee. They are beautiful yet simple birds. They come to the feeder, eat their share of food, and then sing a small song before flying off. But then, there is the Grackle. They are obnoxious and disruptive. They scare away the other birds, eat more than their share, and usually knock over our whole feeder. Ruining things for everyone. Most of you reading this, I know, will be quiet and respectful. Like the Chickadees. Some, however, will be loud and destructive. Like the Grackles. Which will you be?

Beautiful Freak – The Abandoned Kristoff Pig Farm

Posted: May 19, 2021 by kingleser in #postaday, Abandoned, Abandoned Attractions, Abandoned Business, Abandoned Cars, Abandoned Connecticut, Abandoned Farm, abandoned home, Abandoned House, Abandoned Massachusetts, abandoned new england, Abandoned New Hampshire, Abandoned New York, Abandoned Park, Abandoned Places, Abandoned Rhode Island, Abandoned Road, Abandoned USA, Abandoned Vermont, Abandoned Wonders, Automobiles, Broken, Closed, commercial, darkness, Death, Destruction, dreams, empty, Exploration, exploring the abandoned, Forgotten, forgotten beauty, forgotten home, Ghosts, Graveyard, Haunting, Hiking, History, Information, left behind, lost, Massachusetts, Movies, Mystery, nature, new england, nightmares, overgrown, photography, Public Parks, research, Ruins, Safety First, State Parks, Stories, time, Uncategorized, Urban Decay, Urban Exploration, Urban Exploring, Urbex, writing, WWII
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Beautiful Freak

The Abandoned Kristoff Pig Farm

Written by: Wilk

Photographs by: Lassie

Ladies, and gentlemen. Boys and girls. Children of all ages. Step right up. Come and see the show. May is here. Yay, I guess. We’re well into Spring, heading towards Summer. But for some reason it’s still bloody windy everyday. Like, serious gusts of wind. Why? New England, that’s why. The funny thing about May is that it’s unofficially become our “weird” month. The more unusual places just happen to get covered during this time of year. Maybe it’s because of the nice weather. Or perhaps it’s just fate. Last year we covered the infamous abandoned UConn Kennels. The year before that was Philadelphia’s Goliath abandoned prison/museum Eastern State Penitentiary. Well, we continue the trend this month. I’ve been filming a movie up in Massachusetts for the last few weeks. It’s involved a lot of pre-production, wardrobe fittings, and, of course, Covid tests. In other words, lots of driving back and forth from home to Boston. Just another day in the life of an actor. On one of my many journeys, I decided it might be nice to go for a walk after dealing with film stuff. I like my walks to have some sort of uniqueness to them. Whether it be history, or something to see, or a story of any kind really. And driving back home from an early morning meeting, I just happened to find the right place to check out. And oh, yes, it fit right in with our “weird” month trend.

I honestly thought about opening this piece with Brick Top’s monologue about pig farms from Guy Ritchie’s Snatch. If you’ve seen the film, then you know what I’m talking about. But that definitely would’ve gotten us put on some FBI watch-list. If we’re not on there already… This is another one of those rare places that I just happened to come across while cruising Reddit on one of my days off. It certainly sounded unique, so I decided it might be worth a visit. Even though a couple of it’s original structures have since been demolished. This is the abandoned Kristoff Pig Farm. First established by the Kristoff family in the early twentieth century, this was once one of the most successful farms in all of Massachusetts. Two brothers brought together seven different farms to create one massive property. Their goods were bought and sold all up and down the Eastern seaboard. The family-run business was loved and respected by their community. And they are said to have taken great care of their animals. But like many beloved businesses of this time-frame, time can be a cruel beast. Towards the end of the century, a highway bypass cut straight through their property. And with the passing of their original owner, the farm was forced to close. The animals were sold off. The farmhands moved on to other work. And the land was left to rot.

The abandoned pig farm is huge and right in the middle of wild country. It lies on a desolate road. There is no real parking lot. The gate is blocked. You just kind of have to find a place to put your car that’s out of the way. There are no maps or anything of the sort. You have to find everything on your own, and it’s all very spread out. Many paths lead you to nowhere. A lot of sections are completely overgrown. And you really have to do a lot of digging to find anything worth seeing. I ended up spending several hours here just to make sure I saw everything that there was to see. And while my pictures are not as good as Lassie’s, I think they do a decent job. The first stop on the path is the old processing plant. This is a massive metal structure built into the hillside. At the top it has two large metal tubes, which then lead down to the bottom. God knows what used to be thrown down them. Around here are also a few old wooden pens and what appears to be some sort of feeding station. But you will have to do some climbing to get to them. There are also a few old wooden outhouses off in the distance. But here is where the trail forks. It is the crossroads of the abandoned farm. Both trails will eventually dead-end on you. But both have some pretty cool abandoned stuff, and they unfortunately do not connect with each other. At least, not anymore.

If you go right, you will eventually find what I have come to call “The Graveyard.” This is definitely one of the main attractions of the abandoned pig farm. Here is where all of the old machinery and such has been dumped. An old car rots into oblivion. Dumpsters have been turned over. Some even still bare the name of “Kristoff” on their sides. Tractors decay into the dirt. There is even a massive abandoned trailer full of all kinds of junk. The scariest piece of which is a mask from the 2001 Jim Carrey film The Grinch. Freaky stuff. You peak in through the main hatch and it’s just staring back at you. Everything is also full of bullet holes. So clearly someone is enjoying these old grounds. If you choose to go left on the main trail, you will eventually find the main hog house. This is a large abandoned pen that once housed the largest pigs on the farm. It is a small wooden building with no doors to hold back the outside world. There are several pens connected by a main walk-way, each with it’s own trough. The wooden frame is clearly starting to fall apart. Inside is also all kinds of junk. Things like window frames, a TV, and even an old toilet are cast aside on the ground. Here is also where I found the first real signs of graffiti, as most of the ground had been relatively untouched. Alongside it are a large rusted up tractor and another beat-up trailer full of junk.

In a curious turn of events, when I arrived at my destination, the parking area was full of cars. There were nine or ten of them at the pull-off. But when I got back, every one of them was gone. I had only encountered two other people out there, and they were together. It was a friendly couple who were looking for directions. But unfortunately, I was as lost as there were. I ended up being able to work this website into the discussion. So, guys, if you’re reading this, hello there! The abandoned farm is also absolutely teeming with wildlife. Though the people were few and far between, the animals were another story. Chipmunks scurry amongst the brush. The calls of the chickadees echo through the forest. A portly groundhog shuffles his way around the rusted ruins. A large black and yellow snake suns himself in the middle of the trail. And for some reason, I kept bumping into this one lonely turkey. He was just wandering around, all by himself, clearly looking for something. On several occasions, we’d make each other jump by not realizing the other was there. Oh, and I pulled at least six ticks off myself during/after my walk. I also kept finding them in my car for the next couple of days. Lovely stuff. So be warned. But if you’re up for something a little weird, and a little out there, this place is totally for you. So step right up. Don’t be shy.

Melting Snowmen – The Abandoned Bells Mansion

Posted: March 24, 2021 by kingleser in Abandoned, Abandoned Attractions, Abandoned Boston, Abandoned Castle, Abandoned Connecticut, Abandoned Forts, abandoned home, Abandoned Hotel, Abandoned House, Abandoned Massachusetts, abandoned new england, Abandoned New Hampshire, Abandoned New York, Abandoned Park, Abandoned Pennsylvania, Abandoned Places, Abandoned Resort, Abandoned Rhode Island, Abandoned Tower, Abandoned USA, Abandoned Vermont, Abandoned Wonders, Beaches, Broken, Closed, commercial, darkness, Death, Destruction, Exploration, exploring the abandoned, Forgotten, forgotten beauty, forgotten home, Fort Wetherill, Ghosts, Haunting, Hiking, History, Information, left behind, lost, Love, Movies, Mystery, nature, new england, Ocean, Ocean View, overgrown, photography, Public Parks, research, Rhode Island, Ruins, State Parks, Stories, Uncategorized, Urban Decay, Urban Exploration, Urban Exploring, Urbex, writing
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Melting Snowmen

The Abandoned Bells Mansion

Written by: Wilk

Photographs by: Lassie

The neighbors across the street built a snowman. They had their grandchildren over a few weeks ago, after one of our many snowstorms, and built a big snowman. It took them a few hours. But, oh, the fun they had. He was like any of those classic Hallmark songs about winter time. Three large balls stacked on top of each other. Little rocks were used for the eyes, nose, and mouth. He had a great big grin on his face, happy to entertain. Bottle caps were used for the buttons on his chest. The grandfather even broke out one of his old hats and scarves to make him feel a little bit more personable. When they were finished, he was perfect. But once he was finished, everyone went back inside. The sun set behind the evergreen treeline. The children eventually went home. The grandparents returned to their television shows and their cigarettes. The snowman, who once brought so much mometary joy, was left alone. Whenever I was able to take my dog for a walk, his personality shown a little less bright. The hat and scarf eventually blew away in the cold winter wind. The great balls of snow began to droop with age. And slowly but surely, the poor snowman’s very frame itself began to melt. No one came to tend to him. No one came to keep him alive. Days eventually turned into weeks. Snow eventually turned into rain. And by the time March had rolled around, all that was once left of this once happy snowman was nothing more than a pile of whiteness. The time of winter was now over. Spring had finally come.

So, hello again. Winter is over. And we are officially back in business. You may have noticed some things have changed around here. We’ve recently added a treasure map of our locations to our site. It allows our visitors to look at a list of all our locations by the state in which they reside. If you haven’t already, check it out sometime at the top of the page. While making this new feature, I realized that we are a little heavy on the Connecticut locations. Given that it’s our home, this is acceptable. But the other surrounding states looked a little bit left out. So for this year, we are going to be visiting Massachusetts, Rhode Island, and the rest of New England as much as possible. Maybe a return to New York is even in order once things finally settle down. If there’s any specific locations you’d like to see us cover, please do drop us a line. On our first stop of the year, we decided to check out a place that many before us have covered. It’s one that’s alluded us over the years. Not on any moral grounds or anything. We just never quite found the time to check this place out. This is the abandoned Bells Mansion, or what’s left of it anyway. First built in the late 1800’s, this place once stood grandly amongst the other mansions of Newport, Rhode Island. A series of unfortunate events and a constant change in ownership led the property to a state of disrepair. There was even a fire and a bit of demolition. And now belonging to the state, all that remains of this former palace is the broken down carriage house. Never the less, her spirit still remains.

We made the trek up to Rhode Island on a grey March Sunday. I know Newport well. I once worked on Woody Allen’s movie for a whole summer up there back in 2014. I never ended up seeing the movie, though. But frankly, nobody should be watching his work anymore. Summer in Newport is no picnic. Late winter, however, is great. You can really appreciate the town before it is flooded with festivals and tourists. The drive up and through Rhode Island was rather pleasant. Covid-19 may be wounded and nearing defeat, but it’s still quite dangerous. So we didn’t end up getting to check out many of our old haunts around town. But that’s okay. Also, the Newport Bridge now has automated tolls on one side. But not the other side. Peculiar. I know that they are much more unsafe, but I always kind of enjoyed interacting with the tollbooth operators. It was usually early in the morning driving to set, and it was more often than not an older lady. But they always greeted you with a smile. Some days, that really helps. So let’s all try to be a little nicer to each other. The remains of the Bells Mansion are located in what is now Brenton Point State Park on the far side of town. And though it was grey and chilly, the ocean-side park was still very much alive and active with people. I thought this would be an issue for our exploration, but it wasn’t. Most people were too busy gazing at the ocean, searching for the bathroom, or playing with their dogs to notice the old ruins of the carriage house. It is mostly quiet around this side of the park.

As you arrive at the park, you can straight-up see the abandoned mansion from the visitors lot. The ruins of the mansion very much look like 2020 incarnate. The building looks tired, battered, and broken. Dueling graffiti of “Black Lives Matter” and “Make America Great Again” coat the walls. There is a strong sense of loneliness and hopelessness. Like our snowman left out in the cold as his hat blows away. Everything appears to be grey or brown. Wild vegetation and thick vines protect the ruins from the outside world. Yet there are quite a few curious tunnels and pathways through the underbrush. Some will lead you inside of the abandoned building. Some will lead you nowhere. A failing chain-link fence stands in some places. But like a toothless guard dog, it doesn’t do much good. Inside the cement floors are cracking and crumbling. There is so much water buildup from the upstairs that the ceilings literally feel like they are raining on the inside. It is like something out of a bad dream. There is an observation tower nearby that provides an excellent view of the entire estate. But it, too, has become a victim of graffiti and vandalism. Jagged pieces of metal from the old framework are the only things keeping the structure alive. One of the most interesting things I found was that a tree outside has grown so much that people are now clearly using it to climb inside the abandoned mansion. Creative. I thought of trying it myself, as I used to love climbing trees, but I was advised against it by my more grounded partner.

After getting all the pictures we could, we bid farewell to The Bells and spent some time around the ocean. We gathered some shells. Found some sea glass. And generally just enjoyed the majesty of the Atlantic Ocean. Though the abandoned Bells Mansion may not have been much to look at, one of my favorite things about it are the sounds. Inside sounds like a pouring monsoon as water pours from the ceiling. Outside, you cannot escape the sounds of the waves crashing into the rocks a mere stones through away. It wasn’t quite as exciting as I had hoped it would be, but there is quite a bit of history here. A lot of our fellow explorers have covered this one, and we had to see it for ourselves. If you go, just be wary of people. There is a lot of them snooping around the park. And though winter may have come to end, make sure you get good weather. Just being around the roaring ocean makes this one worth the trip. We’ve had a little bit of snow here and there over the last week. But it’s never more than just a dusting. Three inches maximum. It’s usually all melted by the time midday rolls around. The icy fingers of winter have been broken. Its time is now over. Just as the time of the grand bygone era of the Bells Mansion have passed. They are now nothing more than memories. For much like our neighbor’s snowman, now matter how much joy and love went into building a place like this, we all have a debt to pay. Time stands still for nothing. And all things that come from the Earth must eventually be returned to it.

What Was Forgotten

The Abandoned Broad Brook Company

Written by: Wilk

Photographs by: Lassie

Hello, there. Happy New Year. It doesn’t feel much different from the last. Frankly, it never does to me. Time keeps on rolling. The wind keeps on blowing. Change is made in leaps and bounds. It doesn’t just happen over night. No matter what the movies tell us. We are still very much on our winter hiatus. But I just came by to talk for awhile. See who is still out there. See who will listen. Winter sucks for exploring. It’s cold. It’s bleak. The sun goes away too fast. And snow can be a real burden when you’re trying to slip in and out of places that you are not supposed to be. The one upside of winter is that I get to tell stories of adventures long since passed. Not every abandoned place we cover is worthy of a spot on our site. We go. We take pictures. Sometimes, a place just really isn’t that visually interesting or exciting enough. And so we just back the photos up on a hard-drive and move on. They sit there just collecting virtual dust for years at a time. But during these dark months, I get to go through our archives and shed a little bit of light on the forgotten subjects. Today is one of those days. Be forewarned, this is a story piece. It will be told through words. Not by photographs. If this doesn’t interest you, that’s okay. I get it. But this is a place that I think deserves to be talked about. So let’s talk.

Our story begins the summer of 2020. It is hot. It is depressing. Our air conditioner was really loud. Much like winter, summer is also a tricky time for exploring. Especially during a pandemic. There are more people out and about. You have to bring excessive amounts of water. And the sun can really do some damage to your skin. I was cruising Reddit one morning, as I always do, and someone spoke of a place. It was a place that I had never heard of. This place had a very interesting story. Many years ago, a mill was built in a sleepy little village in northern Connecticut. It brought jobs. It brought success. It brought luster. The town was literally built on the back of this mill. But much like many nearby towns, this mill would eventually fall. It served many purposes over the years, seeing actions as a center for both manufacturing and services. But in the 1990’s, a newer much more different purpose was bestowed upon it: real estate. The old mill was converted into condominiums. But something happened then that nobody could’ve seen coming. The old mill’s past came back to haunt her. Poisonous solvents and chemicals were discovered in the soil surrounding this place. The hazardous materials forced it to close and evict all of its tenants for their safety. It was then shuttered. Left to rot. And there it waits.

And so we took a drive. That afternoon. This was close by. So we just hopped in the car and went to check it out. Spontaneity came be fun sometimes. Especially during the summer. It’s weird. I had driven by this place a thousand times. We had enough eaten at the pub one evening that sits right out front. And I never knew this place was hear. It is even a registered historical landmark. Coming upon it was haunting. It has a very grand appearance. It’s architecture is captivating. It is a red brick fortress accented with stark white trim. The old mill is crammed in behind a bunch of stores and apartment complexes. It is also eerily quiet. Despite all of the hustle and bustle around it, the old mill is as quiet as a tomb. Like a void into another dimension. But it is also completely sealed off from the outside world. A sturdy chain-link fence surrounds the entire perimeter. We know. We know because we checked. We went around the entire property looking for a hole in the fence. But there is none. This place is totally and completely locked down. Even the old street that served as the entrance to the complex has been completely sealed off. There was no way in. We have never broken our way into an abandoned place. And we never will. It’s not our style. I could’ve easily climbed this fence, but I didn’t.

DANGER. KEEP OUT. NO TRESPASSING. The warnings are there. And apparently for good reason. Though the lawn appears to be well maintained, the soil is said to be incredibly toxic. But the archaic building is truly captivating. It stood there ominously before us, casting it’s shadow across the summer sky. Windows have been smashed on the upper levels. But this was clearly done by outsiders throwing projectiles at them. Like a besieged medieval castle. But no return volley is fired. Doors are boarded up. Trees grow wild and dangerous. And the complex has clearly lain dormant for a long time, trapped inside of its own little exclusion zone. After finding the perimeter completely impenetrable, we just kind of sat outside the fence and stared at the looming abandoned monster. I guess we just kind of hoped that something would happen. Nobody bothered us. Nobody even cared that we were there. Though there is not much to see, it is still a wonder to behold. And that’s why I’ve written this piece. This story could’ve just sat rotting in our archives, much as she rots in real life. But I feel as though this place’s story deserves to be told. After all that’s it’s been through, it does not deserve to be forgotten.

So let’s always remember: the abandoned Broad Brook Company. Also known as the Broad Brook Mill. There is only one picture here because that is the only good picture we could get of the place. But I think it does it’s job well. In our experiences, places like this one are usually in much bigger towns. If anyone reading this has any experiences with this place, please do share. Whether you be employees, former residents, or just passed through one day. There’s extremely little information on the Broad Brook Company out there. And I’d love to spread a little more knowledge of her story out there to the world. I find it to be a tragic tale. That the Broad Brook Company was once a jewel of this community. Then forced to close down shop due to a changing economy. A beacon of hope brought it back to life. But then it’s past finally killed it off for good. I have heard there is a grant out there to redesign and rehabilitate the old complex. So let’s see what happens. But until then, the memories and experiences remain behind bars. A quiet and untouched world now grows within the confines of those steels fences. The village carries on with all of its comings and goings. But whether they see it or not, the abandoned Broad Brook Company is still there.

Spider Weeds – The Abandoned Helen Lohman House

Posted: October 21, 2020 by kingleser in #postaday, Abandoned, Abandoned Attractions, Abandoned Cabin, Abandoned Connecticut, Abandoned Farm, abandoned home, Abandoned House, Abandoned Massachusetts, abandoned new england, Abandoned New Hampshire, Abandoned New York, Abandoned Park, Abandoned Pennsylvania, Abandoned Places, Abandoned Resort, Abandoned Rhode Island, Abandoned Road, Abandoned USA, Abandoned Vermont, Abandoned Wonders, Automobiles, Birds, Broken, Closed, commercial, Connecticut, darkness, Death, Destruction, dreams, empty, Exploration, exploring the abandoned, fantasy, Forgotten, forgotten beauty, forgotten home, Ghosts, Haunting, Hiking, History, House, Information, left behind, lost, Love, Magic, Movies, Mystery, nature, new england, New York, photography, Preserved Ruin, Public Parks, research, Ruins, State Parks, Stories, Uncategorized, Urban Decay, Urban Exploration, Urban Exploring, Urbex, writing
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Spider Weeds

The Abandoned Helen Lohman House

Written by: Wilk

Photographs by: Lassie

Show of hands here, please. Anyone reading this a gardener? I usually don’t like to reveal too much about our personal lives, given the nature of what we do here. But we at Abandoned Wonders absolutely love to garden. It’s a really special thing. Every year from Spring through Fall, we grow all of our own vegetables. Tomatoes. Lettuce. Peppers. Green beans. Some things we can’t get to grow, but we try anyway. Just for the fun of it. Every year here in New England is a little bit different from the last. And each one teaches you a different lesson on how to be a good gardener. Being able to grow something yourself and then enjoy your harvest is quite rewarding. But every year, eventually the season ends. The frost and the cold slowly kill off the plants. And one by one, you have to say goodbye to the little lifeforms that you yourself created. You water them. You feed them. You make sure they get enough sun. They depend on you for just about everything. But when the season changes, there is no stopping the suns from setting. There is always a time when we have to say goodbye to what we created.

Might I introduce October 2020’s subject: The Abandoned Helen Lohman House. The owner and proprietor of this house, Ms. Lohman, was a New Yorker who spent her summers here in the seclusion of the Connecticut woodlands. She was a successful artist, simply seeking an escape from the hustle and bustle of the great city from time to time. Though the house was first built in the 1700’s, she was the last official owner. Her property served as both her summer vacation home and farmstead. It was a simple property, with a small country house, running water, and a cozy fireplace to curl up next to on those cold nights. But in the late 1960’s, she decided to move on from the property. The house was forgotten about, and Ms. Lohman donated the land to the town of Middletown with the idea of making it a wildlife preserve. She named the preserve after the way she found her garden after every winter. The spider weeds would take over the garden, and leave it in a ghastly state of decay. Over the years, the house fell into complete disrepair. She now sits all alone and abandoned.

All of the credit for this one goes to my partner Lassie. A few weeks ago, we were looking into doing our first virtual 5K. For charity, of course. While looking into good three-mile walks in our area, we just happened to come upon a little place that we had never heard of: Spiderweed Preserve. While reading about this place, we soon discovered the rich history of the Helen Lohman House. Nobody around here had ever covered it before. So naturally, we had to go take a look. We didn’t end up doing our 5K here, simply because that would’ve been timed. And so, on a clear Fall day, we made the trek into Middletown. Looking for Spiderweed Preserve. The weather had called for grey skies and clouds. Which is what I thought would’ve been the perfect backdrop for this hallowed ground. But, naturally, we got blue skies and sunshine. No matter. It was a beautiful ride through the Haddam area. But eventually the road turned East, and deep into the woods. There is no parking lot. Just a long, dead end, dirt road that was once a driveway. It was here that we hiked to the abandoned property.

It is a short uphill hike to the old house. It looms up on the hill as you approach, making it unmistakable. But sadly, it is mostly gutted. The roof is no more, and one side of wall has totally collapsed. But in its heyday, the house was clearly one story. It has a surprisingly rustic design, as if it was just crudely put together by any large stones they could find in the area. That is one of the most unique parts about this place: the rocks. Shining mica and rose quartz can be found all over the walls and floor. You can still walk up the front steps. The fireplace still stands. And seated on its hearth is the star of the show around here: the old tea kettle. Though it is slowly being rusted to death, this old dispenser still stubbornly sits here. Waiting for her master to return. It is quite a haunting site. Watch your step, as there is broken glass bloody everywhere. One window still holds onto its frame. Another still has its distinct green shudders to protect it. But sadly, this place is more of a skeleton of what it was once was. Like an autumn leaf, haven fallen from her tree and slowly eroding into nothingness.

Fall was, in fact, the perfect time to visit the abandoned Helen Lohman House. I don’t know if I’d recommend visiting it during any other season. The chilly air, colorful leaves, and fading sunlight just make this old structure feel a bit more special. There is just a certain amount of mystique to it that makes you wonder what these old ruins once looked like way back when. And even though the house is slowly collapsing, this place can still hold a feel secrets. It absolutely boggles my mind that the old tea kettle is still there and nobody has taken it. Let’s keep it that way. And if you by chance come upon the secret Orange rock, congratulations. Now please put it back so someone else can have the joy of finding it. If you are interested, please do go check this place out before it’s too late. Just as the time of 2020 is drawing to a close, as does the time of this rustic homestead. But then again, let’s always remember why Helen Lohman named this place after those pesky spider weeds that took over her garden every year. Because no matter how tough winter can get, some plants always grow back.

Once Upon a Time

The Abandoned Madame Sherri’s Castle

Written by: Wilk

Photographs by: Lassie

Once Upon a Time, there were two explorers named Wilk and Lassie. They lived in a small house with their dog, guinea pig, and hedgehog. Oh, how Wilk and Lassie loved to explore. They had been North. They had been South. They had been East. And they had been West. They had seen just about everything there was to see. They watched with glee as their little blog grew from a few followers to over a thousand. Exploring was their favorite thing to do. And they were good at it. Until the dark times. Until the world as we all knew it came to an abrupt end. And poor Lassie and Wilk were stuck inside. Their pets enjoyed their company very much, but they longed to explore the great outdoors. So they found time here and there, when they couldn’t bear it anymore, to get outside and have some fun. But it was never quite the same. Still, they carried on. And explored whatever places they could during these times of great sorrow. Following the rules of this new world they found themselves in, they stayed close to home. Most of the time. Until one fateful day, they found a place they just couldn’t resist.

Our story begins a long time ago in a mythical place called New York City. An eccentric woman and her husband become famous in the City of Lights through show business. Oh yes. Antoinette Bramare and Andre Riela became quite the talk of the town wherever they went after striking it rich. One was an affluent costume designer. The other was a glamorous actress. And to embrace their new found fame, they change their last name to Sherri. But when Mister Sherri passed away, Madame Sherri took her fortune and fame to the wooded realm of New Hampshire. Here, she built a lavish castle to host parties and enjoy the Roaring Twenties in the middle of the woods. Everyone in the local community had heard of her and her socialite lifestyle. But eventually, her money ran out. The parties all drew to a close. The limelight faded. The curtain was called. And poor Madame Sherri died poor and alone shortly afterward. Her castle fell into disrepair, and eventually a fire caused by local miscreants in 1962 consumed the lavish palace. Now, all that remains are the ghosts of so very long ago and the legend of Madame Sherri.

And so, on a quiet summer day, Lassie and Wilk made their long trek up to the magical land of New Hampshire. They were sure to be prepared for this long journey. They passed many unique things along the way. The dark times had really changed the world around them. They listened to no music on the way up. They just talked and enjoyed each other’s company. Eventually, they came upon a long, narrow, dirt road. This was the way the directions told them to go, but it looked rather treacherous. They followed this road all by themselves for several miles, wondering if they were still going in the right direction. The houses along the road began to disappear, they soon found themselves deep in the forest. But it was here that the road came to an end at the head of the Wantastiquet Trail. This was the final stop that would lead them to their next path: the hike to the enchanted castle. Fortunately, this trek was not far at all. As the ruins of the castle were a mere short walk from the trail lot. A few minutes later, Lassie and Wilk found themselves gazing on a very unique site: the abandoned ruins of Madame Sherri’s Castle.

Though most of the castle now lies in ruin, what struck Lassie and Wilk the most was the so called “Stairway to Heaven.” This winding stone staircase is the only truly defining feature left of this former relic. When people think of Madame Sherri’s Castle, they think of this old abandoned wonder. It truly looks otherworldly, almost from a bygone era. Wilk loves to climb, and he wanted to climb the staircase really badly. But, Lassie advised him against it. Though the staircase is hauntingly beautiful, it is also very structurally unsafe. A crude sign even sits nearby reading, “Please do not climb the staircase.” Wilk found this unfortunate, but acceptable. He was in luck, though. Beneath the ruins of the castle is the old stone basement. It can be accessed through the air duct or from the outside. There is not much to see down here besides rubble, but it did provide our heroes with a welcome break from the heat. Up above, the old fireplace slowly crumbles into despair, while the stone pillars all stand firm and proud against the march of time. It was truly a mix of ruins and wonder. Some parts of the castle remain strong. Others are eroding away.

Wilk and Lassie don’t really like people. They prefer solitude on their adventures. And while Madame Sherri’s Castle is a true wonder to see, you will rarely be alone in these mighty woods. But, our explorers were able to get all the great photographs they needed and got a nice walk in. Satisfied with their prospects, they bid farewell to the fabled abandoned castle. Though parts of it are weathering away, the great soul and wonder of this place stands strong. Wilk and Lassie headed back to the car with smiles on their faces and excitement in their hearts. It was another long car ride home, though this one was filled with songs and tales of adventures long since passed. When they arrived home, their animals were quite happy to see them. And the feeling was mutual. As nightfall commenced, they each cracked open a beer and sat on their couch. Lassie began to look through her wonderful pictures. Wilk began writing his crazy article. And they both reminisced about how much they loved going on adventures together.

The End.