It was an unusual way to spend a Sunday afternoon and the most memorable picnic in a park I have ever experienced.

On a recent Sunday afternoon I planned one of my favorite types of treks, the chance to explore something different. The sun was shining and although the November weatherman warned of rain, I was optimistic the weather would remain fine for my excursion.

"I'm going to the Tilton Arch," I explained to my teenage daughter, hoping to entice her to join my adventure. There was a time when she would eagerly grab her jacket and announce, "I want to go. Don't leave without me!"

However, she is now 17-years-old and soon off to college; the joys of driving around with her mother to find yet another off-the-main-road place to visit long ago paled for her. So off I went on my own, with the idea of exploring new territory and having a late-fall picnic on my agenda.

Anyone who has traveled through Tilton most likely has spied the Tilton Arch. "What is that big thing on the hill?" tourists have asked for years. "It looks like that big arch in France," I've heard people say.

The origins and reason for the Tilton Arch are a mystery even to some locals who have never found the time to explore the site, or assume it's private property.

I've never met a historical landmark I didn't like and I can't resist exploring such offbeat areas. A trip to the Tilton Arch was right up my alley.

In downtown Tilton, I saw the Big Apple store and took the next left and went over a small bridge. At the end of the bridge, I took a left onto Summer Street. By following this road less than 1/2 mile, I saw a modest sign directing travelers to take a right up a dirt road to the Tilton Arch.

It was amazing to see the towering Arch up close. I was happy to see that the Arch area is open and there is a big parking lot. A sprawling lawn led to the Arch, and there were picnic tables for those brave enough to indulge in a cold-weather outdoor meal.

Everything about the Tilton Arch and the park is big and awe-inspiring. The lawn is like a rolling carpet and benches beckon visitors to sit and take in the view of the mountains surrounding the Tilton area.

As if all this weren't enough, there is the incredible Arch, which stands like a silent and proud giant. All thoughts of a picnic lunch forgotten, I walked up the path, drawn irresistibly to the stone structure.

Standing beneath the Arch is an experience visitors will not soon forget. It's very tall, and made with sturdy, artistic skill to last through the ages. Under the curve of the Arch sits a hulking stone vault, a puzzle to those who visit.

Is someone entombed in the vault, or is it a symbol, like the many statues that adorn various public areas in Tilton, I wondered?

I later looked up some Tilton history on the Web and read the story of Charles Tilton, a fascinating tale of his rags-to-riches life and his dreams of splendor. Although reminiscent of the Arc du Triomphe in France, this local monument is in reality the work of the town's very wealthy Victorian-era resident, Charles Tilton. Another interesting fact of the monument is that the Arch is located in the town of neighboring Northfield, while most assume it is located in Tilton.

The Tilton Arch, looming 55 feet in height, is deceptive. One might assume that Mr. Tilton commissioned the Tilton Arch to be built as a copy of the Parisian monument. However, the arch is a replica of the Arch of Titus, which was raised at Rome's Palantine Hill and the Coliseum in 79 A.D.

The story of the construction of the Tilton Arch, its builder and the revitalization of the grounds around the monument prove that Charles Tilton lives on, if not in the flesh, then in memory.

The tale goes that Charles Tilton could see the hill on which he would build his arch from the front porch of his mansion atop School Street Hill in Tilton. Because Charles hoped that Tilton and Northfield would merge, he built the Arch on Northfield soil in 1883 as his final resting-place. He hoped to be buried in a large stone vault under the Arch, but this plan was never to be realized when residents of Northfield rejected the merger. (Charles was adamant that his final resting place be in the town of Tilton.)

Although plans for his burial monument never materialized, there was no going back once the hulking Arch had been erected on the hilltop overlooking Tilton. Composed of hewn Concord granite, with a 40-foot width, the Arch has a block of Spanish marble between its two columns. A Numidian lion guards the block, and the pedestal and figure weigh a whopping 50 tons.

When built, there were no electric streetlights in Tilton. Charles, however, wanted the Arch illuminated at night. He ordered four gas lamps to be placed on the four corners of the Arch. According to historical accounts, the Arch, lit up at night in an otherwise darkened town, was quite an amazing sight.

In 1984 the monument was repaired when Northfield voters approved monies from the Arch Restoration Fund for improvements and upkeep. Later, the granite blocks of the monument were sandblasted and repointed. Trees growing through worn cracks on the top ledge of the Arch were cut down.

Further beautification efforts were completed when the town of Northfield received a grant from the State of New Hampshire Parks and Recreation Department. The grant allowed the land around the Arch to be upgraded.

The road leading to the Arch area and the parking area were repaired. The walkway to the Arch was made handicapped-accessible. Picnic tables and grills were added.

When standing under the Arch, I must admit I felt a bit like royalty. I could easily imagine Mr. Tilton standing in the exact spot surveying the property around him like a king.

The park is a serene place to spend a few hours, and I suggest visitors bring along a picnic lunch, a camera and perhaps a book. If you come alone, looking for some quiet time, this is the perfect spot. In the summer, spread a blanket on the grass and soak in the views and peace of the park. In the late fall, dress warmly and enjoy a brisk walk; in winter this would be a fun place for a mini snowshoe excursion.

Unfortunately, rain cut short my visit. I had just finished my picnic lunch when the clouds piled up in the sky and chilly rain began to fall.

I like all kinds of New England weather and the gray afternoon only heightened the bittersweet beauty of the spot. I took one last walk around the Arch before heading to the shelter of my car. Through the rainy windshield, I stared up at the Arch and acknowledged it is a beautiful sight, no matter what the weather. I could easily envision how hauntingly lovely the Arch would be in a snowstorm; I plan to return when the seasons change.

As I started up my car I said a silent thank-you to Mr. Tilton, who perhaps is looking down upon me, pleased that there are still folks who appreciate his amazing Arch.