Weird, Wacky, Wonderful: Martini Junction

Months ago, Laura Olin linked to Atlas Obscura on Twitter. I'm always looking for things to do with Baby Razor, so I searched for anything near me. Lo and behold, there was something called Martini Junction only twenty minutes from my house.

A hundred and twenty feet of model railroad tracks in the middle of the woods? Yeah, that sounded like something a three-and-a-half-year-old would enjoy. Unfortunately, it was February and said woods were about to be under two feet of snow. But it sounded so charming that come the first warm spring day, G and I headed to Needham Woods to search for it.

Of course, we promptly took a wrong turn. But we had a lovely picnic lunch on a fallen log, and our poor navigation meant Mr. Razor could come with us on our second attempt this weekend.

Here's what you do: Drive to the Robinwood Avenue entrance to Needham Woods. Turn right and follow the path, which is marked by tiny faux-birdhouses with white tops.

Look for a path on your right, turn onto it, and look for this birdhouse:

Then follow the orange-topped birdhouses. It's a twisty, root-y, up & down trail, but it's not particularly difficult. Baby Razor didn't have any problem with it. It's aways down the trail. I started to get discouraged when we saw a set of houses to our right, because it meant we were near the edge of the woods again. But then we saw this:

A bit further along the path came this:

We started to get excited. More signposts along the trail led us to our destination:

We'd found it!

The tracks were a beautiful addition to the woodsy landscape, and it was obvious how much time and care had been put into building them.

But it turned out the tracks were just the beginning of Martini Junction's magic. The area is packed with tiny buildings, models, and tableaux.

I don't know how much was put there by the tracks' builder and how much was added by visitors. I know that the spot is popular with geocachers, who often add to a cache when they find it. Regardless, the scene above is particularly charming, since it depicts a craftsman with a model train, birdhouses like the ones lining the trails in Needham Woods, and what looks like a bottle of vermouth--essential to a proper martini. All signs point to this being a meta-commentary on The Creator of Martini Junction.

But I have to say, this was my favorite bit, although I have no idea if it was intentional or not:

See the book by the monkey's paw? Yeah. Awesome. Someone also took the time to print out a realistic-looking computer screen and glue it to the teeny computer. I love it.

There's so much more that I'm leaving out for hikers to discover on their own. If you go, you can listen to the water wheel

And enjoy a snack and a drink at the table & benches.

If you're really lucky, the builder will be there and you'll get to see the trains (which are kept in padlocked boxes underneath the benches) running on the tracks. We weren't that lucky this weekend, but we'll definitely be going back.

Weird, Wacky, Wonderful

In my Sample Sale travels, I often come across things that are worth sharing but are either not on sale or not quite right for the feature. So I've chosen Wednesdays to highlight products that made me laugh, gasp, cringe, or all three at once.

Today we have The Weirdest Effing Thing Anthropologie Sells. If you've ever perused Anthro's home goods section, you know that this is a high bar. After all, we are talking about the store that features a decorative felted fox hat, a woodland animal gang-bang, a log-cabin version of the Iron Throne, and something called a wonky pot. And the prices for all of them prove the adage that money can't buy taste.

But as far as I'm concerned, no other piece of ugly at Anthro (and there is so much ugly, much of it cataloged at  the fabulous Shit Anthro Sells) matches up to the bafflingly-named Hitherto Grasshopper Globe:

That, my friends, is a steampunk insect. For real, it has watch parts glued right on it. This lovely bit of taxidermy and craftiness can be yours ON SALE  for--wait, that can't be right. Did they misplace the period? No? Oh--the, er, low price of

$899.99

Hey, that's a bargain. It was originally $1298.

(NB: If you love steampunk insects, but don't have nine Gs lying around, artist Mike Libby has a variety of bugs available on his website The Insect Lab starting at $300 for a fly.)