There was so much to see and take in at this little museum.
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The husband with two of his old work colleagues taking about some kind of gun. 62 years of Army, Navy and Marine Corps service represented right there.
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The Nazi flag came from a soldier who liberated Auschwitz.
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This flag flew during the Normandy invasion.
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A wall of WWII Life magazines. It will not surprise you to learn my husband has them all.
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There’s a story for this fellow with the strategically placed leaf…
Of all the uniforms that have been donated and are on display at the museum, a WWII era French officer’s is not among them. All they have so far is a hat, so this poor guy is doing what any self respecting Frenchman would do while he waits…. drink wine on a nude beach.
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You have to wonder why S/Sgt. Towers kept these particular souvenirs from his war years. Good memories… or bad?
Every fort needs a kitchen and while this one probably didn’t contain many time saving appliances, it was large.
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This box was used for dough.
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And this was the table to knead it on.
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That’s a serious amount of bread.
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The enlisted mens quarters seemed to go on forever, but ironically construction of the fort was never completed and only 20 to 54 troops were garrisoned here during the Civil War. When 575 troops were stationed here during the Spanish-American War, they bunked outside the fort in tents.
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The powder magazine was found behind an extremely thick door and was heavily guarded.
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I’m hoping there was a no smoking sign posted as well.
One last walk around outside, past the D Battery cannon mounts.
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And we were done.
So that was Fort Knox. Impressive, well cared for and a big tourist draw.
After visiting the Penobscot Narrows bridge observatory, we turned our attention to Maine’s largest historic fort which is literally right next door.
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Fort Knox, named after General Henry Knox, America’s first Secretary of War and Commander of Artillery in the Revolution. He spent his final years just down the road in Thomaston. And yes, that other Fort Knox in Kentucky is named after him as well.
The first thing we saw upon entering the Fort’s grounds?
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Proof!
I’m guessing this was a Halloween decoration as they host a big event here for the holiday. Or rather, I’m hoping.
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The Fort sits on a peninsula jutting out into the Penobscot River and was deemed the perfect defensive spot in 1844. Almost a million dollars was spent on its construction, but it took Congress 25 years to allot those funds and as with most government run projects, it was never actually completed.
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But no matter, it’s still an impressive place.
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More Halloween decorations, which to be honest annoyed the photographer in me.
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Yeah, Stephen King rules. We get it.
A diagram of the fort.
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The minute you enter through the sally port you’re struck by how well designed this was.
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The granite was local and expertly fitted.
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Inside? It’s all about the canons.
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Small cannons.
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And Big Bertha ass cannons.
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You know every single child ignores that sign.
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Room after room of cannons. Two floors and four batteries contain mounts for 135 of those babies but only 74 were ever brought to the site. Not as many as it could hold, but that still requires a lot of balls. In more ways than one.
Since resort check in wasn’t until 4:00pm we had some time to kill. And when you have time to kill in this area of Vermont? You drive through The Notch.
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It’s basically a road cut right through the mountain and it’s one of my absolute favorite drives.
Twisty, turny and littered with glacial granite boulders…. it’s a rock lovers dream.
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Not that it’s the easiest road to navigate mind you. The switchbacks are breath taking, the proximity to boulders cringe worthy. In places you’re absolutely blind and are left crossing everything you have that nothing is coming the other way when the road narrows so tightly only one car can pass.
My husband drives it like sport.
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On the other side of The Notch? Stowe… a lovely village I’ll highlight later. And in Stowe?
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An amazing local brewery.
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We had to stand in line half an hour to get in, on a Tuesday, at 2:30 in the afternoon. It’s that good. I was willing to wait longer to sit in one of the artfully decorated dining rooms (the giant velvet cow print couch was calling my name) but the husband snatched two seats at the bar as soon as they became available.
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One flight in…. on an amazing polished copper bar, we were already loving this place.
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The Kolsch was delightful, the Pink and Pale seriously puckering.
And since we were at a brewery….
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I had to try the monster soft pretzel. Not only does Idletyme brew their own beer, they make their own beer cheese and grind their own mustard. A win win.
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As was this hot spiced cider with rum. Hey, when in Rome…
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My chargrilled mushroom Swiss burger with crispy onions and Caesar salad was good, but my husband’s choice?
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Ooh la la! So beyond the normal pub fare … we might have drooled. Butternut squash ravioli with maple cream sauce, sliced almonds and a hint of cayenne for bite. It was utterly fabulous.
Too stuffed for dessert, we headed back through The Notch and it’s amazing selection of rocks.
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And mini waterfalls breaking through at random intervals.
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And by then, it was time to check in.
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Yes, the resort is named after The Notch… which was originally used by smugglers and bootleggers. Yet another reason to love it.
A little history if you’re interested…
With cliffs on either side that sometimes reach a height of 1,000 feet, it’s also easy to see how very few people would have been caught on their way to and from one country to another. The landscape looked completely different in the early 1800s and there were far fewer people – and towns – meaning this region was even more remote. After former president Thomas Jefferson passed the Embargo Act in 1807, the restriction of trade between countries had a drastically negative impact on the state of Vermont. As the state shares a border with Canada, this trade route was by far the easiest to use, and once that was cut off there were many citizens and businesses that suffered in the northern part of the state.
This route was not only used for trading. Fugitive slaves would also utilize the route to make their way through Vermont and into Canada, which gave it another historic purpose.
The use of Smugglers’ Notch didn’t just end there, though. As Vermont progressed into the 20th century, they would be subject to yet another restriction – this time, on alcohol. When Prohibition came about in 1922, the state was lucky enough to have opened Smugglers’ Notch to automobile traffic. This meant that those using the route would no longer need to cross on foot or horseback, which opened up even more illegal trade route options. In this case, it was Vermont’s loophole during the time when it was legally a dry state.
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*Not my photo , but it gives you a better idea of the scope*
The Notch is closed to tractor trailer trucks due to the precarious turns, and though there are ample signs warning them not to enter, a few idiots try it every year, getting stuck and causing horrible traffic jams and back ups.
The entire road is closed for the season starting in mid October so we were lucky and slipped in right before the gates came down.
The search for items to sell at a flea market continues and things are being belched up from the basement at an alarming rate. I don’t know if he’ll ever actually go through with this plan, but he certainly is enjoying the trips down memory lane.
Today’s treasure?
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The 1967 version of an adult party game. And judging from the look on that woman’s face, insufficient martinis were consumed before play began.
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The game is simple. 24 cards are placed on top of the feely box, you draw one… then reach inside to pull out the corresponding item.
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Yes, those are teenie tiny dentures. 1967 sounds like a blast.
Same book about sex, same warning applies. Tender hearted readers take note.. it’s about to get weird.
First up in today’s excerpts are tales from the factory floor.
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Being a porn star isn’t limited to (and I use this term loosely) acting in films. Apparently you can make money recreating and selling your penetrable parts. Who knew?
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Wise choice Maria. No need to make daddy feel inferior.
Leaving the body part factory, we get a history lesson in contraceptives.
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I suppose a cat liver ankle might dissuade the foot fetish suitors.
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I don’t know about you, but I’ve met many a woman with a furious womb.
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Is it any wonder the womb is furious? Geesh. No one wants to be compared to a badger.
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Where there's only one step from the sublime to the ridiculous.
River's world..... 