Tower Hill Preserve

Cabin Fever
Tower Hill Preserve, Chaplin
December 2025

I walked this trail on a Monday during Christmas week. So imagine my surprise pulling into the parking area and finding two other cars there. In Chaplin! Wonderful!

I parked and since this is a 1.3 mile relatively flat loop trail, I took a swig of water, hopped out, and hit the trail. I noticed a couple in their car talking as I began, but didn’t give them a second thought. Especially as I was distracted by some of the most impressive stone walls I’ve ever seen around these parts.

And there’s a reason for that – these aren’t the typical 200 year old walls built by farmers to pen in cows, no, these were decorative walls at an estate.

William Ross Sr. purchased the “Avery Farm” in 1835. William was a cattle trader and a very successful businessman who owned a number of rental properties and a silk mill in Willimantic. During the fifty years that he and his wife lived here, he purchased the neighboring farm you can see to the west and expanded their holdings on both sides of Tower Hill Road to over 300 acres. He also made a number of improvements on the land and in approximately 1880, completely “Victorianized “ the house. Most of the spectacular stone walls that exist throughout the property were constructed during this time. Reportedly it was the first house in Chaplin to have indoor plumbing, the remnants of which you can still see in the overgrown foundation. William I was active in Town government, serving as a selectman and State representative. He died in 1885 and left the property to his only son William II.

I didn’t know that when I marveled at the walls, so I feel very good about my stone wall expertise that I could tell they were better than the usual. I guess I’ve seen my share of stone walls in Connecticut woods.

At one point, for some reason, there’s a stone wall and a sort of hearth thing with some kitchen implements. This was pretty far from where the house would have stood, so I don’t really know why this is out here, but it’s interesting at least. I continued on my clockwise trip around Tower Hill and quickly reached the red spur trail.

Of course I took the spur trail, because it wouldn’t exist if it wasn’t worth taking. Joshua’s Trust is a very intentional organization, and I trust them implicitly. And even the most well-meaning and kind-hearted organizations suffer unfairly at times.

This entire trail features exactly one puncheon; that is, a wooden plank created and placed to carry hikers over a wet area.

This entire trail had exactly one blowdown during my walk in December of 2025.

Can you guess where that one tree that fell across the trail fell?

Yup.

I followed the red trail down to Stonehouse Brook and it is a right lovely brook. I’d almost give it river status. I had passed a rusted old barrel stove but my attention was immediately diverted across the brook high up on a cliff.

A waterfall! It is unnamed and surely seasonal, but it is also very pretty. But because of its unnamed and seasonal status, I saw no need to pick my way across Stonehouse Brook to climb up to a better vantage point. This is all you get of that falls:

Okay, back to the rusted hunk of metal along the trail. And what was clearly the foundation of a small building here. Turns out it was a rogue cabin from the 1980’s.

The Trust’s newsletter got an exclusive expose from the cabin builder’s mom. Explosive stuff! From the President of the Trust himself:

I’d walked the property extensively when we were conducting preacquisition due diligence, and had noted the outline of a decayed log foundation, perhaps 15-feet on each side. Within the outline of the foundation was the remains of a wood stove that someone had fashioned from a 55-gallon drum. The choice of the site was strategic, as it overlooked a scenic waterfall that cascaded down the east-facing slope of the abutting property into Stonehouse Brook. Although I had noted the presence of the structure during our walkovers, no one was able to tell me the specific story of the building.

Pregnant pause.

The kid who built his cabin here did not have permission to do so, nor was he granted the right to chop down trees – which he also did. (“Willard” and “Judith” are fake names to protect their scofflaw identities. Seriously!)

Willard and his friends, who were in high school at the time, were looking for a place where they could hang out. They weren’t allowed to use power tools, so they cut down the trees and assembled the cabin manually. The resulting structure, for which Judith provided a photo, was built of logs and included an upstairs loft. Shingles for the roof were reportedly provided by a local school bus driver and they scrounged scraps from other projects to complete the work. Exactly what went on in the cabin is a matter of some conjecture, but Judith did confide in me her suspicion that “they may have had Playboy magazines in there.”

The legend of the cabin grew as more local teenagers visited the site, and eventually word got back to the property owner, “Mrs. Jones”, who reached out to Willard to have a little discussion on the topics of trespass and illicit harvesting of forest products. Willard offered an apology, and Mrs. Jones was so taken with Willard’s sincerity that she told him that he and his friends could continue to use the cabin as a therapeutic retreat; however, there still was the matter of the trees that had been cut down. The score was settled when they reached an agreement that Willard would mow her lawn and perform odd jobs for her over the next year, a shining example of Chaplin street justice in the late 20th century.

What a great story. And look at that cabin! (from the Trust’s newsletter.)

I returned to the yellow loop and ascended what I assume is Tower Hill through a thicket of laurel which must be nice in June. Once the trail summits, it travels an old woods road pretty much straight back to the parking area.

As I crested the hill, I noticed a person walking a dog ahead of me. As I neared, I guess I noticed it was a woman. She began speed walking away from me and if I’m being honest, looked very awkward doing so – almost tripping over roots and rocks a few times. I maintained my pace, but I got the strong sense I was making this lone hiker uncomfortable. So I slowed down. I stopped at one point to fiddle with my phone. I read some more about the history of this property, remembering ol’ William Ross I made it all Victorian-fancy…

William Ross II, continued his father’s business ventures and married Emily Jones Clark who inherited the property from William in 1908. William II left $15,000 in his will to the Town to build a library. After his death, Emily married her chauffeur Walter Vail who was the son of Theodore Vail, the first and long-time president of AT&T. Emily died in 1933 and left the property to her son Walter Clark who was the first Governor of Alaska and a newspaper publisher in Charleston WV. He is the grandfather of Antoinette Monnier who donated the property to the Trust. After Walter Vail died in 1940 the property was rented out for about 15 years and then was left vacant. The house was burned down in 1982.

The son of the president of AT&T was a chauffeur and then his son was the first Governor of Alaska? What is happening here?!

I suppose if I was up to no good, there aren’t too many better places to do something terrible than the woods in Chaplin, Connecticut. But… c’mon. I was wearing blaze orange. It was the middle of the day. You had a dog with you. You chose to go hiking alone in the woods.

I got tired of being slow, decided we were nearing the road anyway, so I got moving again. When I was about 25 yards behind her, she scooped up her dog and ran into the woods, off-trail, never looking back at me at all. I was confused. But I just kept going down to the lot.

I respect the woman’s fear, and understand, and I hope she continues to enjoy our woods and trails. But maybe find a partner to hike with if everyone random encounter is terrifying, no matter how legitimate the reason. I wish her the best.

I reached the lot and… remember that couple getting ready to hike this 1.3 mile loop? There they were, full long-distance hiker gear in place. Poles, packs, boots, gaiters, winter hats, mittens, parkas… But they looked totally jazzed and excited to get going. I smiled and told them it’s a beautiful hike and to have fun. I’m sure they did.

I don’t know how to end this at this point, so I’ll just say this to confuse those readers who just skip to the end…

It’s a shame teen boys don’t have illicit cabins in the woods in which to hide their Playboy stash anymore.