HP Lovecraft and the Devil's Hopyard.
Connecticut is weird. No really folks... those of you who have the idea that it's like Jersey only it's between New York and Boston instead of New York and Philly are wrong.
I stayed at the Devil's Hopyard State Park. This is a place HP Lovecraft made famous with his story the Dunwich Horror. Water cascades to and fro down waterfalls... odd shaped rocks jut oddly out of the earth. I saw no goat like creatures... or invisible spawns of Yog Sothoth but the intense fog made the place sufficiently creepy as all hell.
But Conn is a weird outside of that. We ate at this fantastic diner called O'Rourke's Diner... in Midletown Conn. Downtown their was a series of absolutely crazy people... clearly there is a day program for the mentally ill that lets the folks out @ 8 on a Saturday. What made this odder w3as the fact that everyone in conn seemed to want to talk to us. The crazy people all would veer oddly towards us and make those "ahh" noises like they had something to say. Hell, after moving my chair about 90 degrees around a fire to avoid smoke, a park ranger stopped his truck and got out to tell me he'd seen other people move out of the way of smoke. Queer.
But taking the cake was the crazy guy in the state park. This guy was either Manic or Hopped up on Goofballs (probably Meth) and he started yelling at me next to a waterfall. We had climbed down some rocks to get a better look at the waterfall, which the stream beneath was another 40 feet or so down. The nut job was wearing old jeans, a torn T-shirt, and a flannel on. His skin was kins of weather beaten... like leather, and his face clearly hadn't seen a razor in a fortnight.
"Do you know how many people died here?'
"I don't know" I responded, "How Many?"
"I don't know but a lot.... back in the day" This guy responded. He had a wild eyed look about him. He tried to start talking to Rachel, whom I was trying to lead away from the area.
"Best place to have a shower! Right there under the water fall!" He started jumping around on the rocks. "100's of people have died and they just leave the gate open!" he yelled then lept down off of one set of rocks five feet down to another set.
Lastly to top off the Lovecraftian community was the fact that I saw no less then 4 people with missing and/or deformed right arms.
Ahhhhhh the stuff of lovecraft.
Randy where are you when I need ya.