Posts Tagged ‘history’

War & Pieces – The Abandoned Fort Stark

Posted: August 23, 2023 by kingleser in #postaday, Abandoned, Abandoned Attractions, Abandoned Connecticut, Abandoned Forts, Abandoned Island, Abandoned Massachusetts, abandoned military bases, abandoned new england, Abandoned New Hampshire, Abandoned New York, Abandoned Park, Abandoned Pennsylvania, Abandoned Places, Abandoned Prison, Abandoned Rhode Island, Abandoned Tower, Abandoned Tunnel, Abandoned USA, Abandoned Vermont, Abandoned Wonders, Art, Beaches, Broken, Closed, darkness, Death, Destruction, empty, Exploration, Forgotten, Fort Wetherill, Fortress, Forts, Haunting, Hiking, History, Information, left behind, lost, Military, Military Forts, Movies, Mystery, nature, Navy, new england, New Hampshire, Ocean, Ocean View, photography, Preserved Ruin, Public Parks, research, Ruins, seaside, Stories, time, Uncategorized, Urban Decay, Urban Exploration, Urban Exploring, Urbex, writing, WWI, WWII
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War & Pieces

The Abandoned Fort Stark

Written by: Wilk

Photographs by: Lassie

Hello, New Hampshire. It’s been a long time. Three years, in fact. A lot has changed. The global pandemic has mostly come to an end. We’ve grown a bit older. The summer has become hotter. Things aren’t what they used to be. This year has been a crazy one for us for a lot of reasons. And that has honestly been reflected in the kind of places we’ve been exploring. Due to some career changes, both Lassie and myself found ourselves having almost the entire summer off. Something we haven’t really ever experienced before as grown adults. With no school to teach during the summer for her, and SAG-AFTRA on strike for me, we found ourselves with quite a bit of free time these last few weeks. So this has been what we have come to call “The Summer of Madness.” There’s been a lot of spontaneity. There’s been a lot of fun. But most of all, there’s been a lot of traveling. Places we’ve never seen before. Places we’ve always wanted to see. And some places that we haven’t been to in a long time. And that’s where The White Mountain State comes in. If you look at our treasure map here on our site, New Hampshire is the one state here in New England that has only one place on it. Well, this summer, we chose to finally change that.

And so, if you please, allow me to introduce to you the latest addition to the Abandoned Wonders family – the abandoned Fort Stark. Located on the far eastern side of New Castle, New Hampshire, this old warhorse has a long history. Named after local colonial war hero General John Stark, the fort has served a small role in each of The United States of America’s great military struggles. But her purpose has always been clear: defend the Portsmouth Navy Yard and the strategically valuable Piscataqua River. Garrisons and guns crewed the fort during the Revolutionary War, War of 1812, American Civil War, Spanish-American War, World War I, and World War II. But strangely enough, despite her decorated line of service, she never saw combat. I suppose we should all be thankful for that, in one way or another. As the tides of war turned cold, the watchful guardian Fort Stark was deactivated in 1948. Her main guns found new homes in more hostile parts of the world and the grounds were turned over to the US Navy. Though they spent some time as a training center for reserve forces, the fort’s fate was more or less sealed. In 1983, the state of New Hampshire took control of the grounds and the once great Fort Stark was no more.

And so in the waning days of summer 2023, we had yet another spontaneous trip. On a Sunday afternoon we randomly got an invite to visit some family up north, and two hours later we were in New Hampshire. Believe it or not, abandoned places are rather scarce up in The White Mountain State. There are plenty of abandoned farm houses and factories lost to the wilderness. But few of these places have a story. And if you know anything about us here at Abandoned Wonders, it’s all about the story for us. We chose this place because it’s honestly been a long time since we covered anything military related. Having seen so many Nike Missile Sites during our early years, military stuff just got boring after a while. We figured now was a good time to revisit the subject. So, with a couple family members tagging along with us, we set out on our trek to the abandoned Fort Stark. On our drive over, we just happened to pass by the legendary “Alcatraz of the East”; aka the abandoned Portsmouth Naval Prison. Haunting in her majestic beauty, we may be coming back this way someday to see her more up close. We’ll see…Anyway, the remains of the fort sit right alongside a moderately trafficked beach and recreational area.

There is no long hike or hunt for this one. Much like many other abandoned coastal artillery sites that have been converted to recreational areas, you just drive up to the parking lot and there’s your target. When the state took control of the grounds, Fort Stark was modified just enough to make it safe for the public. So basically the only things left are those that were too expensive to demolish. At the center of the grounds is the old Harbor Entrance Control Base, installed prior to World War II. It is an austere layered building with a grim white paint job. The main battery sites, Battery Hunter and Battery Lytle, sit on either side of the base. Each is in a varying state of decay and has a pillbox-style lookout post at the top. While most of Fort Stark is fenced off, these fences honestly don’t do much. Almost every single one has a gaping hole in it, making the fort completely accessible. Strangely enough, wherever there is a whole in the fence, one of the fort’s heavy steel doors is often busted open. There are multiple dark passageways leading deep into the underbelly of the old base. Some rooms still have their unique features, such as a brick fireplace, left behind. Other are simply black voids or passageways leading to nowhere.

In all honesty, there is not too much to see here. Unless you’re a military history buff, I honestly wouldn’t recommend a visit to Fort Stark. Though the tunnels are quite interesting and certain areas of the fort are well preserved, this place is sadly a shadow of its former self. Leo Tolstoy once famously said, “the strongest of all warriors are these two: Time and Patience.” And while the cruel hands of time have regrettably run roughshod over the fortress, her patience has paid off. Though she never saw combat, Fort Stark clearly served her purpose with honor and dignity. The grounds may be crumbling, but the people she once protected now get to enjoy her beaches with their families and friends. The concept of war may never change, but the ways in which we fight it continue to evolve. In the days of nuclear arsenals and cyber-warfare, places like Fort Stark have more or less outlived their purpose. Her days of standing guard and keeping a weather eye on the horizon are over. Rest now, fallen soldier. You stood without fear in the face of countless enemies. You defended the gates of New England during all times of war. You followed any and all orders you were given with the utmost loyalty. And for that, we salute you.

Wander My Friends – The Abandoned JME House

Posted: June 19, 2023 by kingleser in #postaday, Abandoned, Abandoned Amusement Park, Abandoned Attractions, Abandoned Cabin, Abandoned Castle, Abandoned Connecticut, abandoned home, Abandoned House, Abandoned Massachusetts, abandoned new england, Abandoned New Hampshire, Abandoned New York, Abandoned Pennsylvania, Abandoned Places, Abandoned Rhode Island, Abandoned Road, Abandoned Tower, Abandoned USA, Abandoned Vermont, Abandoned Wonders, Art, Cabin, Children, Closed, Destruction, empty, Exploration, exploring the abandoned, for sale, Forgotten, forgotten beauty, forgotten home, Haunting, Hiking, History, House, Information, left behind, lost, Love, Magic, Movies, Mystery, nature, new england, New York, overgrown, Pennsylvania, photography, research, Ruins, Safety First, Searching, Stories, time, Uncategorized, Urban Decay, Urban Exploration, Urban Exploring, Urbex, Vermont, writing
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Wander My Friends

The Abandoned JME House

Written by: Wilk

Photographs by: Lassie

“There was this point in my life when I decided I was going to trust my own ideas…

that’s where my life started, really.” -Jaimie Mantzel

I talk about a lot of things on here. It’s weird sometimes, I know. Abandoned Wonders has kind of become this beautiful mix of personal and travel blog. I love telling stories. I hope that I inspire people with my writing. But at the very least, I just hope you all enjoy my musings. No matter how random they can be sometimes. One thing I talk about every year on here is the the call to adventure. It’s something I’ve always had and can never shake. No matter how badly I want to sometimes. Every year, Lassie and I consider retiring from this whole urban exploring thing. We’ve been at this for almost ten years now (wow!), and we aren’t getting any younger. But every year, we come back. Why, you ask? The call to adventure. The need to see new places and explore new worlds always gets the best of us. It keeps me up at night sometimes. I feel like there’s always something new on the horizon to see or to learn. And in the early days of summer 2023, for the first time in a long time, adventure found me. I had business up in the Great White North. And whenever I have to undertake a journey such as this one, I always try to find a unique place to explore on the way to help make the trip worth it. Well friends, as fate would have it, I just happened to come across one of the most unique and beautiful abandoned places I have ever seen.

This is my friend the JME House. Please say hello! In the early 2000’s, an eccentric social media personality and gifted inventor named Jaimie Mantzel built a unique dome house in the mountains. His goal was to live completely off the grid with his young family. The house was built entirely out of recycled materials and featured three stories, with the entire third floor being a trampoline. It was designed with an open floor plan with each floor being connected either by ladders or a blue and yellow playground slide. There was no indoor plumbing or running water. The family cooked all of their own meals together. The house was powered by solar energy and heated via a wood stove. There was also a stationary bike that was used to generate electricity. There were no neighbors for miles and the house was completely inaccessible to vehicles. It could only be reached via a long hike through the forest. For several years, the young Mantzel Family lived out in the mountains completely off the grid. But eventually, Jaimie Mantzel got the call to adventure once again and the time came for them to move on. Jaimie sold the house to an anonymous buyer after a short YouTube campaign and moved his family out of the country. But then what happened? Nothing. For reasons unknown, the house became abandoned and forgotten deep in the mountains. And there she stands to this day.

I will not be giving away anything on this location to preserve its beauty. I know that the real hunters on here will find it (you know who you are), but I also know that those are the people that will respect it. Do not ask us for any information on how to find this place. I’m sorry. But I really want the JME House to remain as untouched by the outside world as possible. If you have a problem with that, then we’re just going to have to agree to disagree. As I mentioned to you earlier, I was once again flying solo on this trip. And so, after a long day of traveling and running on two hours of sleep, I found myself trekking alone deep into the unknown in search of this illusive treasure. It was sunny. It was hot. It was rustic. Luckily I came prepared. Lots of water. Lots of food. A map. And my compass. Thank you, Eagle Scout training. Luckily it didn’t take long to cross into the former kingdom of Jaimie Mantzel. After a long walk down a lonely pathway, I found myself gazing upon a most peculiar site. The first location to greet you is a small hut that was the former sauna/hot tub. Though it is now completely full of mosquitoes and bugs. Next to this is what the man himself came to call “The Banana Building.” What was once an open workshop for creativity is now just a disastrous pile of rubble. But up the hill, guided by a blue climbing rope, is where the adventure truly begins.

The abandoned JME House stands grandly upon the hill, looking like an elegant can of soup with its dome structure. The northeastern side is made up of windows, whilst the others are a simple tin. Colorful painting and art coat the exterior. It is unclear what is graffiti and what is not. There is a modest opening at the front that serves as the doorway inside, though it is only covered by a thin sheet of plastic. Written in stark yellow paint next to the opening is the house’s name: JME House. Walking inside was like stepping into a dream. Greeting you as soon as you walk in is a big purple sign welcoming you to the home. The sign politely asks all visitors to be kind and to sign their guest book, but someone seems to have made off with it. I searched the entire house looking for it to no avail. Though the place is captivating, the smell was unbearable. I’m not sure why. And while the outside forest is teeming with summer noises, it is peacefully serene inside the home. The first floor is partially paved and served as the family living quarters. A homespun bucket-system bathroom stands guarded by a couple of tarps. Old radio gear has been left behind. Some cooking equipment and lots of old books chill on the shelves. The stationary bike used to generate electricity still stands and miraculously still works. A petite wooden staircase leads up to the house’s upper levels.

The second level of the house features the former art gallery of Jaimie’s work and is the landing zone for the vibrantly colored playground slide above. Many curious drawings and paintings still hang on the wall. A well loved armchair hangs out here too. But the third floor is what everyone wants to hear about, right. Because trampolines are fun! Though I could not fit down the slide, being 6’3″, I confess to doing my fair share of jumping on the trampoline. It once served as the family’s recreation area and believe me, there is still plenty of fun to be had here. A steel step ladder is suspended by climbing ropes above the trampoline which leads to the upper nest. A worn out mattress rests up here along with a colorful paintjob making the walls look like some sort of castle. It is also where I ran into a bit of trouble. Whilst climbing up to the house’s highest point, one of the climbing ropes holding up the ladder gave out. Luckily I was able to catch myself before tumbling all the way down. Maybe the trampoline would’ve held from my fall. Maybe it wouldn’t have. I’m glad I didn’t have to find out. Eventually, much like the Mantzel Family before me, the time came to say goodbye to this incredible place. Sun-burnt and bug-bitten, I bid farewell to the JME House and began my arduous quest back to the car. Down the mountain. Through the forest. Across the tunnel. Along the dirt road. Into town. Here at last, my journey came to an end and I began the long drive back home.

Many abandoned places have spoken to me over the years. But none have had a greater effect on me than this one has. Jaimie Mantzel is very much a man after my own heart. And getting a brief window into his incredible world was nothing short of miraculous. It’s nice to know there’s other creatives out there living their best lives. I’ve heard that the Mantzel Family is still very much active online and enjoy seeing their old home being appreciated. So if you guys are here, welcome! We hope you enjoy our work here at Abandoned Wonders. I was honestly quite nervous about finding the JME House. I was going to a place so few had explored, far away from my home, and without my better half. But now that my adventure is over, damn am I glad I went on it. Finding this magical place is something that I will never forget. And so, my friends, I have a challenge for all of you reading this article. And that is to go on an adventure. It can be as big or as small as you want it to be. It doesn’t have to be crazy far away or anything death-defying. But just attempt pushing yourself out of your comfort zone a little bit. Try something new. Go somewhere you’ve never seen. Get to know yourself. Maybe it will work out. Maybe it won’t. But no matter what happens, you’ll always have a story to tell. And that’s kind of what life is all about: the experience. Finding your place in the world. Because that’s how we grow as people. When adventure calls, sometimes you just have to answer it.

Lambs Become Lions – The Abandoned Sherwood Forest Zoo

Posted: February 22, 2023 by kingleser in #postaday, Abandoned, Abandoned Amusement Park, Abandoned Attractions, Abandoned Boston, Abandoned Business, Abandoned Connecticut, Abandoned Hartford, Abandoned Massachusetts, abandoned new england, Abandoned New Hampshire, Abandoned New York, Abandoned Park, Abandoned Pennsylvania, Abandoned Places, Abandoned Rhode Island, Abandoned Road, Abandoned USA, Abandoned Vermont, Abandoned Wonders, Abandoned Zoo, Art, Broken, Closed, commercial, Connecticut, darkness, Death, Destruction, Exploration, Forgotten, forgotten beauty, Ghosts, Graveyard, Hartford, Haunting, Hiking, History, Homeless, Information, left behind, lost, Love, Magic, Movies, Mystery, nature, new england, nightmares, overgrown, photography, Public Parks, research, Ruins, Safety First, Searching, State Parks, Stories, time, Uncategorized, Urban Decay, Urban Exploration, Urban Exploring, Urbex, writing
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Lambs Become Lions

The Abandoned Sherwood Forest Zoo

Written by: Wilk

Photographs by: Lassie

I’ve lived in Connecticut for pretty much my entire life. I’ve always liked it here. I make movies for a living, and being right smack in between New York and Boston really has its perks, aside from a few drawbacks. We believe in voting rights here. We support a woman’s right to choose. We have legalized cannabis. We were one of the only states in the Union to not have an election denier on the ballot during the midterms. And to top it all off, we arguably had the best response to the Covid-19 Pandemic in the entire country. And I think that was because as uptight as us Nutmeggers can be, deep down we really care about each other. We masked up. We got vaccinated. We trusted the science. And we all watched out for one and other the best we could. Whenever I’m out working on a movie or a TV show and someone asks me where in Connecticut I’m from, I always just say Hartford. Technically I live just outside it, but most people know about our capital city. It’s just easier. I will never forget working on a little show called “Dexter: New Blood” a few years back. A certain member of the main cast, who shall remain nameless, really bonded with me over Hartford. We talked about it everyday we were on set together. When he found out I was “from” there, he had a lot of questions about how the city has been doing. As a veteran performer and journeyman actor whose been in practically everything, he was no stranger to Hartford. I unfortunately didn’t have much of an answer for him. Because while our state of Connecticut continues to thrive, our capital city has always been troubled.

A huge tip of the hat goes to our friends at J&M Explorations for contacting us about this place. These two have supported us from the beginning, and they’re both really good people. They did an excellent video covering this place, which you should definitely check out here. And if you’ve got a moment, please do give them a Subscribe. We as artists always have to support each other. Because if we don’t, who else will? Our subject this month is the abandoned Sherwood Forest Zoo in Hartford, CT. Opening in the days following World War II, this small attraction was located in Keney Park. It housed all kinds of animals, from the local to the exotic. Spanning over twelve acres, guests of the zoo included seals, otters, wolves, reindeer, and skunks. There were multiple enclosures, primarily for mammals, and even an aquatic viewing exhibit. The original hope of the park was to try bringing a piece of nature into the inner city. But with this hope came great tragedy. There unfortunately were countless incidents during the park’s tenure involving severe animal cruelty, vandalism, and criminal activity. I won’t go into details about said incidents. Just believe me when I say some truly heinous acts were committed here. The zoo was eventually forced to close its doors for good in 1974. Though there were several attempted revivals, it eventually faded from memory.

We made our trek out to the abandoned zoo in early February. Every winter, we toy with the idea of taking the year off from exploring or retiring from it all together. But the call to adventure always wins out. Keney Park is a vast area in the Northeast side of Hartford, close to the Bloomfield and Windsor town lines. I knew this area of this city quite well after filming a project there several years ago. The park is mainly known for its golf course and recreation complexes. The remains of the zoo are located on the quieter side of the park. Good for exploring. Bad for parking. If you’ve got a vehicle that isn’t too low to the ground and know what you’re looking for, you’ll do just fine. To the untrained eye, the trail to the abandoned zoo looks just like any other trail around here. But after consulting an old map of Sherwood Forest Zoo, you can see that this was once a roadway providing the lifeblood of the park. We even found an ancient yellow “NO PARKING” sign off the beaten path. The remnants of the zoo are a short walk down the trail. Believe it or not, a rickety chain link fence still surrounds the perimeter. It gives the old park a very ghostly and foreboding feel. Though we were in the middle of the woods on a sunny day, there wasn’t a single sound in the air. We crossed over a fallen tree that had toppled a section of the fence, and made our way inside.

The first stop on the trail is the abandoned bathroom complex. It is small but sturdy. One side has been completely gutted, but the other still has its stalls and hand dryers. Though they are rusted to Hell, this was a really cool find. Following the chain link fence, we eventually came upon an abandoned enclosure that was very reminiscent of the abandoned Uconn Kennels that we covered several years ago. Two cement enclosures stand side by side inside of a pavilion. We believe that this was either the Prairie Dog Village or where the woodchucks were housed. Several large iron cage are scattered amongst the underbrush. We also found one very well preserved rabbit skull that was clearly a victim of some large predator. But the main attraction of this place is easily the remains of the aquatic viewing exhibit. We believe this is where the seals and/or otters were housed during the zoo’s heyday. It lies at the very back corner of the old park, right next to what remains of the old picnic area. The viewing windows are still standing, providing ghostly framed views of the derelict exhibit. And the main watershed room, memorable for it’s stark yellow paint job, has now been turned into a makeshift living quarters. A blue tarp hangs over the doorway, very reminiscent of a “Dexter” kill room. An old camping chair waits outside. Empty pill bottles are scattered across the grimy floor. Though we found nobody inside, someone has clearly been squatting inside this former attraction.

I honestly would recommend a visit to the abandoned Sherwood Forest Zoo. It is a unique look into a forgotten part of Hartford’s history. As I mentioned to you earlier, there have been several rumblings over the years about redeveloping the area. Though I strongly doubt the park will ever rise again, that doesn’t mean we can’t take something away from her story. “Rise and rise again, until lambs become lions.” This was the motto of the famous English literary character Robin Hood. He was a man who always fought and stood up for the people. He and his band of “merry men” found refuge from the law in the woods of Sherwood Forest. Which ironically is where this troubled attraction got its name from. But Robin Hood’s motto has been used as an inspiration for many throughout the years. The story of the abandoned Sherwood Forest Zoo will always be yet another scar on the face of Hartford, Connecticut. But if you’ve ever been to our capital, it truly is a beautiful place. I was there two weeks ago supporting the new Film/TV Tax Incentives. And hundreds of people work hard everyday to give this city a brighter future. Not by stealing from the rich and giving to the poor. But by always believing in their communities and never giving up. And so this is a salute, to the teachers, law enforcement officers, healthcare workers, community volunteers, and all the good people out there that fight to make Hartford a better place for all of us. Life is tough. But so are you.

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.

I’m Not Okay

The Garden of Sweet Remembrance

Written by: Wilk

Photographs by: Lassie

I want to talk about something important today. Yeah, I know. This is supposed to be a blog about abandoned places and urban exploring. That’s what you all come here to read about. But this is also a personal blog. I try to share my experiences and life lessons with anyone who cares to listen. If reading my words was enough to help just one person, that’s all I’ve ever wanted. We’ve had a lot of readers reach out over the last year telling us how much our work means to them. And there is no greater compliment to us than that. Especially considering how rough last year was. And so today’s piece is going to be a little different. I get one of these a year, so please bare with me. If this isn’t for you, I won’t be offended if you stop reading or unsubscribe. You have that right. I want to talk today about mental health. It’s something that I personally have struggled with for a long time. And I know that a lot of us here feel the same way. I advocate for mental health awareness whenever I can. We’ve all either had our issues with mental health or know someone who does. It’s never easy to talk about. Sometimes it can be down right terrifying. No matter how hard we try, there will always be this stigma around mental health. We’ve made a lot of progress in the last few years, but some still have a hard time accepting that it’s okay to not be okay.

And so allow me to introduce our July investigation: The Garden of Sweet Remembrance. Located in the town of Shrewsbury, Massachusetts, this place was once the lavish home of one of the area’s most prominent businessmen. Matthew J. Whittall was the owner of the property, and christened it Juniper Hall. There was a vast estate to behold, but the garden was the true jewel in the crown. Mr. Whittall and his wife were so very proud of their garden that they invited all manners of the public to tour it whenever they pleased. But like the blooming flowers, nothing lasts forever. The proprietor and founder passed away in 1929. The garden’s pergola was dedicated to him by his widow and christened the name “The Garden of Sweet Remembrance.” Following Mr. Whittall’s passing, the mansion changed hands several times before finally being demolished after years of abandonment. All that remains of this once lavish wonderland are the old pergola and the once flourishing garden. The property remained this way for many years. The weeds and vines grew wild, overtaking this once sacred place. But it was never truly forgotten. A small movement grew and grew to eventually restore the property and garden to their former glory. Now, what remains of the property has been revived and resides in Shrewsbury’s Prospect Park.

This, once again, was my birthday investigation. I always try to explore something on my birthday. It’s just a great way to spend the day away from the world with my partner Lassie. Doing what we love. I wasn’t quite sure what we were going to find at The Garden of Sweet Remembrance. I had received a tip about it a few months ago, but found conflicting information on the web. The land had been lost for a long time. And though the movement dedicated to it’s upkeep has grown over the years, vandalism has still continued to scar the face of the iconic pergola. So we decided to go take a look. It was a sunny Saturday afternoon. We usually NEVER go exploring on Saturdays (too many people out and about) but, it was my birthday after all. So, what the Hell, right? We arrived at Prospect Park as the only visitors. There is still a grand stone archway at the entrance with a brand new sign. There are trail maps and well marked paths throughout the grounds. The garden itself is a relatively short walk down one of these paths. All throughout the woods, there are old relics marking what this park once was. Old fire hydrants rust into oblivion. Ghostly power poles blend in amongst the fading trees. And there is a certain mystique in the air here. But once you arrive at the garden, this slightly mystical place truly comes back to life.

I haven’t used the word “abandoned” in the title or tags of this article for a reason. Because it’s clearly not. The garden itself is truly alive and well. Flowers and all kinds of plant life burst through the fertile soil. It has also become a collection point for painted rocks from people all across New England. The pergola, on the other hand, stands at the far back of the garden. It’s presence looms like a great shadow of both remembrance and sorrow. The wooden roof has collapsed all together. The blue sky floods in like a ship taking on water. The foundation crumbles slightly, yet never wavers. Graffiti adorns the outer shell, but the words “GARDEN OF SWEET REMEMBRANCE” still stand strong. But what makes this place so special are the names. On certain pillars of the pergola, and some of the painted rocks, the names of people have been painted. Out of respect for the families, I will not name these names here. But what I can tell you is that each of these names are victims of suicide. Most were just teenagers. We even found a bundle of old roses left beside one of the names. This garden has clearly once again found it’s home as a place of remembrance. It brought about a mix of both sadness and spirituality seeing them. It shows that no matter what, it is the job of those of us left behind to carry on the memory of those we’ve lost.

Like I said in my introduction, this place is not going to be for everyone. It isn’t one that we usually cover and was not what we were expecting at all. But honestly, I am happy to be proven wrong. And while this post goes against most of what we post here, I would highly recommend the Garden of Sweet Remembrance to all of our readers. Not for adventure or thrill-seeking. But for reflection. It really is a beautiful place. Seeing the names on the walls of the pergola and on the painted rocks was a very moving experience. I lost one close friend to suicide five years ago this summer. His name was Troy. He was an actor like me. And I think about him everyday. It’s always hard to process losing someone like that. Much like these beautiful flowers, we are all slowly fading away. That’s why we always have to remember to keep ourselves well and to keep those we’ve lost in our memories. The Garden of Sweet Remembrance’s history reminded me a lot of the struggles we all go through everyday. There were good times. There were bad times. There were times where all hope seemed to be lost. But with a little bit of help, this place came back to life. And always remember, it’s okay to not be okay. Never be afraid to ask for a little help.

If you, or anyone you know, is struggling with mental health issues, please check out the list below. Psychology Today in particular is incredibly helpful for finding someone to talk to. You can narrow your search based on provider locations, areas of expertise, and accepted insurance plans.

Find a Therapist, Psychologist, Counselorhttp://www.psychologytoday.com/therapists

Suicide Prevention Hotlinehttps://suicidepreventionlifeline.org

Mental Health Americahttp://www.mhanational.org

Or, if you’re like me, here are a few songs to listen to if you’re feeling a bit lost. Stay strong, everyone.

Mike Shinoda – Crossing a Line: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I2sRc3j7IU0

All Time Low – Missing You: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W4OG7O8B0C8

Story of the Year – Can Anybody Hear Me: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OjBpM31a51c

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.

A Quarter-Mile At A Time

The Abandoned Blue Hot Rod

Written by: Wilk

Photographs by: Lassie

“I live my life a quarter-mile at a time. Nothing else matters; not the mortgage, not the store, not my team and all their bullshit. For those ten seconds or less…I’m free.” – Dominic Toretto

Personally, I prefer Need for Speed. But that first Fast and Furious movie was a classic. I remember seeing it for the first time with my brother one Friday night when we were kids. We loved it. We got all the Matchbox cars. We built all the characters out of Lego. We even got our hands on the soundtrack. We had no idea what Ja Rule was saying in his songs, but damn did we find them catchy. My brother loved this movie so much that he has gone on to be a very successful auto mechanic. He truly loves cars, and attributes that love to seeing this movie for the first time. It just goes to show you that any of us can find our inspiration in some of the most unexpected ways. Cars have always been something that have captivated the imaginations of people everywhere. As Jesse in The Fast and the Furious says, “just something about engines that calms me down.” It’s a beautiful thing. So full disclosure here, the snow really got to us this month. We were hoping to make our return to exploring, but we’ve had several inches of snow and ice coating the ground all through February. That said, our hearts go out to all of our friends in Texas right now. So once again, this piece will be from our archives. You know, those adventures that are really fun, but never quite make it onto our blog. Until times like these. This was an abandoned relic we just happened to stumble across last summer, and it’s one that has stuck with me ever since. This is the abandoned Blue Hot Rod.

For those of you who don’t remember, or have chosen to forget, the summer of 2020 sucked. It was hot. It was divisive. It was boring. It made people like me realize that summer really isn’t that fun when you’re not a kid. You’re stuck inside with nowhere to go and nothing to do. And if you were like us and didn’t have air conditioning at the time, then you were really in trouble. So it was our policy during this time to get outside and go for a walk whenever we got a chance. Whenever there was a break in the heat, we were out there. One weekend in late July, we got one of those days. So we went out. The plan was to go for a quick walk, grab some essential supplies, pick up some take-away, then head home. A nice/simple summer day. We picked a small park nearby to us. It was close to the city, yet far enough away to be quiet. We had walked this park before once, but it was mostly flooded at the time. The dog unfortunately had to sit this one out. Our walk was nice. The birds were chirping. The sun was shining. And the heat was manageable. Plus there wasn’t too many people around. The trail we took was a mile long loop. But around the half-way point, we came across something hiding in the bushes. Off the beaten path, it looked like just another abandoned car. Not too exciting. So we decided to snap a few photographs for our Instagram. But the closer we got to it, the more we began to realize that this car was a little bit different from all of the others.

I have tried to do as much research as possible on this car, but have yet to come up with a solid make and model. At first, we honestly thought it was an ambulance. The frame is quite big and there is a fading blue paint job on the exterior. But the closer you look, the more this starts to look like an old school luxury car from a bygone era. Judging from the fins on the back, I believe it is from the late 1950’s or early 1960’s. With it’s unique push-button transmission and wired steering wheel, this might be a Chrysler. Possibly a Dodge. But like I said earlier, I’m not much of a car guy. If anyone has any thoughts, please feel free to share. Any insight would be greatly appreciated. Most of the abandoned cars we’ve covered in the past have just been rusting hulks of metal that have been cast aside. They’ve all been at abandoned houses, old work sites, or forgotten junkyards. This one, however, seemed like it was a real treasure at one point. The striking blue upholstery and sturdy leather seats really make me question why this old hot rod was left out here to rot. It definitely looks like this car was rather expensive in it’s heyday. But why was it left behind? What led this amazing machine to this grim fate? I could see this old beauty cruising along the back roads way back when. Now it lies sinking into the dirt, surrounded by ferns and mosquitoes. We were the only ones out in the park that day, but the old classic car is very much hidden off the main trail. Let’s hope it stays that way.

As a matter of professionalism, we never share the locations of our abandoned cars. It’s nothing personal against our readers. It’s just we’ve had a lot of people contact us in the past looking for abandoned cars to scrap for money. That just doesn’t sit well with me. Relics like this old blue hot rod deserve to be preserved and remembered, not scrapped. I know it seems rather silly to spend an entire article on a single car. But I think our pictures speak for themselves. All that remains of this old marvel are very striking. Some of the tech has somehow survived all of these years. The blue upholstery gives it a very magical yet tragic feel. You can still feel the era that this workhorse came from. Someone, somewhere, must’ve really loved and enjoyed this car at some point. I felt like this one needed to be shared and talked about, as it honestly stands apart from all other abandoned cars we’ve seen before. I know winter sucks right now and things can feel hopeless sometimes. But we have to carry on and hope that tomorrow will be a better day. I miss exploring. I miss being out there hunting down the places that the world has forgotten about. But that is just going to have to wait. Waiting sucks. But it’s almost always worth it. You cannot just skip over times like these. You have to learn to appreciate the little things. That’s how you grow as a person. Spring is coming. Dawn approaches. Better days will be here soon. We’ll get there someday. Even if it is just a quarter mile at a time.

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.