Snapshots From the Connecticut Sub Trail

BILL MEMORIAL LIBRARY, GROTON

If there's any place in the world where the marriage of submarines and public art makes perfect sense, it's southeastern Connecticut. The only thing that's surprising about the CT Sub Trail is that it didn't happen earlier. But as it turns out, the timing is perfect: these 21 roly-poly little subs were created as a part of the celebration of Connecticut's Submarine Century. In the tradition of cows, guitars, apples, and hundreds of other themed objects, the fiberglass subs (designed by local artists and unveiled in Groton on the 4th of July) will be on display around the region through October.

The subs are stationed at schools, museums, and businesses. You can locate them using the CT Sub Trail mobile app. I went looking for a few of them and found a colorful and creative expression of appreciation for Connecticut's history, shoreline, and military and maritime heritage.

BILL MEMORIAL LIBRARY, GROTON

CHILDREN'S MUSEUM OF SOUTHEASTERN CONNECTICUT, NIANTIC

CHILDREN'S MUSEUM OF SOUTHEASTERN CONNECTICUT, NIANTIC

CITY PIER, NEW LONDON

CITY PIER, NEW LONDON

ROUTE 32, UNCASVILLE

COCA-COLA BOTTLING CO. OF SOUTHEASTERN NEW ENGLAND, WATERFORD

COCA-COLA BOTTLING CO. OF SOUTHEASTERN NEW ENGLAND, WATERFORD

LESTERTOWN ROAD, GROTON

LESTERTOWN ROAD, GROTON

WWII NATIONAL SUBMARINE MEMORIAL, GROTON

295 MERIDIAN STREET, GROTON

ELLA T. GRASSO TECHNICAL HIGH SCHOOL, GROTON

BANK SQUARE BOOKS, MYSTIC

BANK SQUARE BOOKS, MYSTIC

UCONN-AVERY POINT, GROTON

BANK SQUARE BOOKS, MYSTIC

The Wait Is Over

Most people, if asked to imagine a sidewalk situated between some busy train tracks and a nuclear power plant, would picture something pretty unappealing. Those who have been to Niantic recently, however, might conjure up something like this.

The mile-long Niantic Bay Boardwalk, having been under construction for seemingly forever (it was damaged by hurricanes Irene and Sandy) is now finally fully open. That means walkers can access the boardwalk from both Hole-in-the-Wall Beach and Cini Park, and stroll the length of it uninterrupted by orange cones, warning signs, or wire fences.

As you walk along the boardwalk, seagulls strutting below and Acela trains speeding by above, there are signs explaining various facets of Niantic's past and the ecology of the region. There are steps down to the beach, as well, if you want to get off the concrete and onto the sand.

The new boardwalk was built to withstand harsh coastal storms, and there is something inherently New England about the way it encourages visitors to appreciate this area's subtly astonishing beauty - even as commuters whoosh past to more exciting destinations and industry lurks in the distance - while we can, before we're all swept away.

The Smith-Harris House

I discovered the Smith-Harris House (a.k.a. the Thomas Avery House) by accident.

Really by a series of accidents, too many and too boring to relate.

Let's just say that if a character in a movie was having a day as comically pathetic as my day was, she would have ended it by meeting the love of her life, not finding a 19th century house. 

The house, built around 1845, was sold to the town of East Lyme in 1955. Then it was boarded up and ignored - except by vandals, who targeted it until the town thought it might be easier to just tear it down. But some citizens of East Lyme fought for its preservation, and in 1976 it opened as a museum.

That's all anyone can hope for, I think: sometimes you find good places by accident, and occasionally some people believe in things everyone else has given up on.

By the way, this is my 500th post on The Size of Connecticut. There's no actual significance to that number; it's not as if when I publish the post a light goes off above my head and I get a free ice cream, like at Stew Leonard's. Yet somehow, I couldn't let that fact go unmentioned.

Grace, Niantic

Maybe it's because too many of my formative years were spent in Fairfield County, but few things make me as happy as a good shopping discovery.

When I walked into Grace in Niantic, I was not expecting much. What I was expecting was a slew of that tacky, touristy junk you find in gift shops in so many coastal towns. Or, worse, the $250 brightly patterned tunic blouses you find in gift shops in so many other coastal towns.

But what I found instead was the kind of store you wander into and instantly feel compelled to buy all the clothing (arranged by color!) and the accessories (so cute; probably meant for girls half my age) and the adorable inexpensive ceramics. I actually stood for a minute with my hand on the cover of a pretty book about juice fasting, wondering if I needed it. (Fasting, I need. A decorative volume explaining it, probably not so much.)

I resisted, mostly. If I'd had more money, it could have gotten out of hand.

Rocky Neck

I go to Rocky Neck State Park so often I just assumed I'd written a post about it before, but I never have. I suppose most of what I write about here is new to me, and sometimes the familiar places get left out.

I had intended to stop talking about the recent storm(s), because I was becoming pretty boring. I wrote about it here and here and I tweeted about it for a week straight and I was getting sick of myself. But this was the first time I'd been to Rocky Neck post-Sandy, and...

Damn. Not only was the pavilion area closed and surrounded with these alarming little notes, much of the boardwalk had been taken apart in sections and stacked up, and the place where the boardwalk usually is was heaped with sand and trees. The picnic tables were all huddled together in the middle of their usual grassy space, as if they were afraid of something.

But the storm did not take away any of the Park's cold beauty. Rocky Neck isn't a beginner-level Connecticut attraction. (If you will.) It's not all obvious and in your face with a huge pretty beach, though its beach is undeniably pretty.

Rocky Neck is for those who find Sherwood Island and Hammonasset too bland and too expected, those who prefer train tracks and metal fence passing behind New Deal buildings, and dramatic water views opening up from stone tunnels, and encountering trails and brooks that appear just when it seems you've seen it all.

It's also one of those places where Connecticut's geology simply demands that you stop and pay attention to it for a minute.

And always, though especially after a storm, it's full of countless little reminders that despite the solar panels and educational signs and well-kept parking lots, this coast is still wild.