There are a lot of competing opinions about the purpose behind this massive wall of rock, spanning a stream. Some say it was simply a bridge, but if that’s the case, it’s the most overbuilt one I’ve ever encountered. Why not make a simple stone arch, then raise the rest with dirt? Besides, two other roads run uphill and downhill from here, and no other streams have similar crossings. Could this be a planned railroad spur that was never completed? Or perhaps this was a dam to hold back water for winter ice harvest, as there is no lake nearby, and the river below once carried steady shipping traffic. Whatever the purpose, it remains as a monument to whoever built it – an unnamed marker, lost in the woods. It towers over this forest hollow, patchwork quilt built of every bit of rock these hills have to offer. Some mysterious daydream in the sinking light.
This guy searches out old signs of forgotten human inhabitants. It reminds me of my area. The forest has filled in and much is lost. Shifting baselines create discontinuities. For years, I wondered why settlers had old farms in the hills here when flatlands were nearby. Then I saw a 125 year old map that marked mills on the fall line. They were there for water power. All the mills were gone by my time and finding traces was not obvious.
Old cellars and sometimes wells are common back in the woods. The one above I found last summer. Old fence wire could be found in the most unlikely places.
I remember Datus Proper in his, Pheasants of the Mind*, saying how hunting New England grouse was a bigger reminder of an old landscape than being in England itself. England was old on the scale of 100’s of years but kept and maintained. New England was old by way of decay, neglect, and abandonment. I knew how he felt since I live it here.
This turned up this week which was timely. Also, I saw videos showing wildlife using the walls. Steve likely remembers the walls back in New England.
* reviewed in Steve’s book on books, A Sportsman’s Library. Chapter 43