Visceral Axis head into the Great North Woods, in search of a BIG of legendary status. Reputed to be the remains of a once grand
and glorious summer hotel, and also one of a myriad of film locations for the television miniseries version of Stephen Kings The
Shining, nestled in the deep woods in the middle of nowhere....ah too big to pass up.
Now, we're talking a six hour drive, over Mt Washington and through not one but two notches. Hip deep in snow. Still, with visions
of haunted hotels dancing in our heads we hit the road and head upcountry. From the getgo we can see it's going to be challenging.
Not because of the roads or the snow, but because of all of the abandoned places we're driving by and...driving by! What's up with
that!! We make that most fateful of mistakes and utter the most ridiculous statement in the world of urbex. "We'll check it out on the
way back through."
Like we don't all know what that means. It means we'll get lost for four hours, spend three hours longer at our destination than we
planned, and hit a fucking moose on the way home, leaving us to try to "check it out" at two am. Mmmhmm.
Other than the temptation to stop every six minutes all the way up, the rides weirdly uneventful..until we get up past Berlin.
Then things get...well....typical.
Come with us kiddies...put yourselves in the drivers seat.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You're driving along the river, admiring the breathtaking scenery, when you notice the gas tank is a little low. Ok. It's hovering on E.
"Relax!" says your driver. "We'll just stop somewhere and get gas."
You begin to look for a gas station.
"There's one!" you say, pointing at an abandoned gas pump half buried in the snow.
"Very funny." It is, until you realize that there is black hole nothing out here. No houses. No businesses. No signs of civilizaton other
than the road and the occasional car that seems to appear out of nowhere going in the opposite direction. And you drive. And drive
and drive and drive. The river flows. The road winds. You realize there is no cell phone service. As the needle gets lower you
understand that there is nobody, nothing, and that if you run out of gas you will sit here and freeze. To death. And things will eat
you. This is bad. Because what if, while you're waiting there for something to eat you, you begin to say..have chest pains? You could
not call 911 now could you? No! Why? Because you're in West Hell and they don't have cell phone service there. Now you begin to
notice an ominous pressure in your chest and pains radiating down your left arm. "Ah" you think. " I knew it. I'm having a haht
attack right here in east bumfuck. On the fucking Androscoggin. Fuckin right." So you sit there and await what you know is certain
death, while the needle gets lower, and buzzards start to circle overhead. Yes they are too buzzards. No, they are. Really. Fuck it.
Fine. Birds. Fine. Shut up. It gets down to the wire and the driver mutters comforting things like "Well, at least the low gas light isn't
on yet."
Awesome.
River. Road. Scenery.BIRDS. Finally, finally you emerge into an intersection where you see...an open gas station. But there's
something weird about it isnt' there. Ooooh, yes there is. At each pump is a three foot pile of snow. Carefully mounded and
guaranteed to make it almost impossible to pull your car in. While you're standing there trying to reach the pump to the car over the
mound, wondering why it's like that, that answer suddenly presents itself as a rabid pack of wild snowmobiles comes bugcharging
across the tarmac, headed right for you. There's not much to say or do at this point, other than jump the hell out of the way with a
vocabulary reduced to "SHIT! FUCK! WHAT THE! WHO IN THE! WHERE THE! JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!!!"
You can just hear them too. Can't you? Looking at you with expressions of utter shock and saying to each other "Whatta those
things?" "Them? Them thingsa cahs." "Uh?" "Cahs. Ya know. CAHS! Them things that raid on them black rivahs." "Oh. THEM
THINGS. *shudder*" as they drive away, casting suspicious glances back over their shoulders at you.
MmmmHMMM.
So, full tank of gas some small comfort you get back on the road. And you drive. And drive. And drive and there is close to nothing,
and what you do see makes nothing seem friendly and warm.Because... There are houses. Every so often you see a house. All alone.
With it's radar dish and its plow. 200 miles from the nearest grocery store you have to wonder what they eat. And it's big as holy all
hell stack of wood out front. Every so often there's a business. That combination general store/hotel/pool hall/arcade/laundramat was
pretty cool, wasn't it? And there are signs. Strange signs with no mile markers or directions. Just random words.
DEEP WOODS
no shit?
GREAT NORTH WOODS.
as opposed to deep woods.
NO
what? no what? no turning? no stopping? no spitting? no. just no. whatever it is, dont even think about it.
And then..then. You round a bend and there it is. Bigger than life, it hits you. The sign of signs.
GREAT NORTHERN MOOSE
You look at it, nod, and almost absently ask the driver
"Paula?"
"Yeah?"
"What's a great northern moose?"
"um...."
"Just what the FUCK is a great northern moose????!"
"The opposit of a minor southern moose?"
"More important IS THAT SUMBITCH GONNA RISE UP OUTTA THE ROADBED LIKE OTHER MOOSE??!?!?! because if it
does and we hit it I don't think we're gonna live! I mean it's hard enough to live when you hit a regular uninspired moose that just
randomly levitates out of the road, but if it's a fucking great NORTHERN moose? what the fuck? What IS it and what kind of place
is this? I'm already having a heart attack..."
"You are not having a heart attack"
"shut up yes i am. and now we're going to be squashed to death by a great northern moose and IF there's a survivor they won't even
be able to call anyone for help because THERE"S NO FUCKING CELL SERVICE!"
"just eat your goldfish."
"mmmHMMM. fucking great northern moose. fuck. FUCK. people come here too. they TRAVEL here. "Come to the great north
woods where you too can compete for food with a tribe of yeti!" fuck. FUCK"
"just eat your goldfish."
mmmhmmm.
Continue on, through the vast nothingness, until you come to the second notch. There, charming and picturesque roadside signs alert
you to the wonders of "FALLING ROCK" and "FALLING SNOW" and pardon me but isn't snow sliding in big sheets off the side of
a mountain and AVALANCHE?????????????? Yeah I thought so.
So, you drive through the notch....turn a corner..and there it is.Just exactly where it's supposed to be. On the dot.
Your destination.
Rising, like an oasis out of all of the desolaion, grand, sprawling, gothic and glorious......you experience a moment of joy...that total
bliss where you realize it's all going to be worth it....the buzzards...the snowmobiles....the moose...the yeti.....
and then.
And then....
"Hey paula?"
"mmmhmmm?"
"Does that place look open to you?"
http://www.thebalsams.com/
Never. Never listen to your customers. They will always steer you wrong.