STANDING IN THE CORNER, WAITING FOR THE END

The Ruins of John Ringling's Mansion, Palisades Interstate Park, somewhere between Alpine, New Jersey, and Nyack, New York (May 30, 2004).

I came across this during a hike over Memorial Day weekend. I was up on the Palisades, the long line of granite cliffs that border the Hudson River. I had read about Ringling's estate on the Hudson, and that it was a fixture of the Weird New Jersey crowd.

I stopped at an overhand that looked down upon Yonkers, New York, and strapped on my Mountainsmith lumbar pack and my olive drab Tamrac camera bag. I started the hike amidst bus driven urbanite onlookers who had, strangely (to me), driven out of the city only to stop and find the first scenic overlook that looked back upon the city. I lost them quickly, though, when I entered the tree covered paths that went from asphalt, to gravel, to mud.

After about forty-five minutes of hiking, I came upon the ruins of Ringling's estate. Ringling was best known for his circus, the Ringling Bros. Circus, which later merged with the circus run by P.T. Barnum, America's greatest con man. His mansion must have been a gothic structure, constructed of large granite stones and wide beams. I took a few steps off the trail into the densly covered brush, searching with my boot until I found the lip of the marble stairs that ran down to the first floor of the mansion.

It was cool in the stone ruins of the mansion. Protected from the sun, the rooms had the clammy feel of a cave. In the center of the largest room on the first floor, someone had left the ashes of a small campfire. I doubted it was the product of campers; more likely, a derelict had been living there.

It wasn't until I turned the darkened corner and noticed the two makeshift altars that I reconsidered who might use the site. Both had food sacrifices on them - one had what appeared to be some sort of sweet bread, the other appeared to have chicken - along with thoroughly used candles. Both faced 14 degrees off east, which meant someone had likely set them up with an understanding of declination.

Both scared the hell out of me.

I swung back to the main room. Behind a slightly collapsed wall was a rubble pile and graffiti, most in English, although some was of unknown origin. Behind the smaller of the two altars was a stairwell that led up to a second floor. I made it halfway up the stairwell to where I could peer onto the second floor. There were food piles and evidence of further sacrifice-type uses of food in various corners. I decided to stay on the stairwell instead of moving onto the second floor. After a few moments of consideration, I decided that I would simply leave. Everything about the place gave me the sort of uncomfortable feeling sought in The Blair Witch Project. Plus, the chicken on the altar looked fresh.

Santaria, I assume. I'm going to leave it in the "I don't really need to have someone explain this one to me" list of things I don't know, much like the Welsh language.

The remainder of the hike was uneventful. Beautiful scenery, and a nice lodge just south of the New York border, made for a good long day hike.

Comments

[James R. Rummel]

"Both scared the hell out of me."

There's a great scene at the end of the film "The Lion in Winter". The king and queen are in the dungeons, having a moment of reflection.

"They're all around us, even now. You can see their eyes shining in the firelight."

The king stares at her for a moment, and then says "And so they can see ours."

I figure that some cultists have more to worry about from me than I do from them, at least if they want to become violent. If they want to be peaceful and polite then I'm just passing through.

James

[Kathleen]

dude, you have some balls. if i would've jaunted in there unaccompanied at all is debatable (i am, at heart, a city girl whose guard is always up for something terrible to happen right around the corner), but the fact that after seeing the scary "offerings" you still stayed a while... well, that's just crazy. : )

[j-a]

eeek!!!!!!

that is REALLY spooky. but i don't think it would have been santaria - don't they offer up the blood from a dying donkey or chicken or something like that? i speak not from personal experience but from my teacher's - she is a travel writer and she went to cuba to witness such an event.

[John]

Hi, your description of the ruins is dead-on, and as of about a month ago (Sept. 2005) the candles are still there.

A minor point though, these ruins are from the Zabriskie Cliff Dale estate. The Ringling estate was a couple of miles north, and there's not much left of that one but a couple of half-buried foundations and a stone bridge.

There are some more photos at this link , if anybody's interested.

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