August 28, 2018

We got an early start just after dawn and without cooking breakfast because it was so buggy at our tentsite!

We soon came to a view of our future, an overlook of the Farmington River. From our precipice, we looked down on the small town of Tarriffville. We speculated about the origins of the name, spying on a landing on the opposite side of the river. “This would be a perfect vantage point for invaders to signal each other about boats approaching the town!” And, “This must have been the place where tarriffs originated!” We add “Tarriffville” to our growing list of places inviting further research and start our descent to the river.

In thirty minutes, we came out onto Rt 189, with just a narrow shoulder. “I sure hope there’s a shoulder on the bridge across the river!” To our relief, there was, and we got a leisurely crossing of the Farmington River as the morning traffic zoomed by.

Tarriffville seems friendly enough as we follow the blue blazes through town to the city park. We’re too early to enjoy the restaurant and the bar across the street, but make note of them to recommend to other hikers. We take advantage of the water fountain in the park and have a friendly conversation with an affirming resident walking her dog past the park gazebo.

Shortly, we continue south, turning on Mountain Road. We lose the blue blazes though and at the end of the street we see a sign for a 20-acre town woods. It’s not the NET, though! We turn back and return to the last blaze we saw, a double blaze! That means the trail goes into the woods, but where? We search, and find an overgrown path with a blue blaze hidden on a post about ten feet into the vegetation. Got it! The path shoots straight up the hill, naturally, and takes us steeply up a hundred feet to a wide, rocky old dirt road. Soon, we reach a local historic landmark, Bartlett Tower, one of my favorite features so far! I look it up with Google and find out there was a lodge here! How could that be, when the old chimney is only about ten feet from a lumpy rock outcrop?!! The ridge is narrow here too!

With our curiousity piqued, we continue our day’s walk, which takes us over more ridges through the forested rocks and atop The Pinnacle with views, then down to Lake Louise, a secluded and picturesque pond, rounded by a popular network of trails. We discuss the option of walking around the next pointy-looking profile on our map, but choose to follow the blue blazes, finding the route through Penwood State Park to be pleasantly gentle! We cross paths with one northbound runner, and see her again at the base of the mountain, completing her loop to the parking lot at Rt 185, our destination for the day! It was only 3 p.m. too, one of our shorter days. We had planned it that way when John had made a reservation for the Bloomfield Air BnB last evening! We would take a break from the heat and sleep inside after a mere 7.4 miles.

The half-mile walk to Paul’s place on Rt 185 was scary! There was no shoulder, with a sloping berm covered with knee-high weeds next to it for walking. We crossed to the other side of the road at a curve so the drivers had a better chance of seeing us! Fortunately, we came to a section that had a wide, mowed lawn between the road and a subdivision wall where we could walk safely. To our delight, our host, Paul, was pulling out of his driveway just as we got to the address. He greeted us and described how to get into the house. The private, two-bedroom wing seemed like a perfect retreat! After a long, hot shower, I hopped into the big bed and took a two-hour nap!

When I woke up, John reminded me that Wade’s Farm Store, another half mile down the road, was open for another hour, so we set out again, braving the busy road. Our terror was rewarded with tantalizing food!

We followed our habit of buying something to eat immediately, choosing a miniature lemon-meringue pie to savor under the plant shade. Then, we shopped for a cucumber, red pepper, and cheese to pack out the next day plus an ear of corn, chips and a big tomato to eat for supper and banana bread for breakfast.

On our walk back, I experimented with encouraging drivers to give me space to walk and started signaling to them with a downward and outward wave meaning “Slow down and move over!” It seemed to work with all but one honking driver. Cars were slowing down and moving over!

We even got our laundry done when Paul’s girlfriend directed me to the laundry room. We chatted about hiking while she folded a big pile of laundry. “I don’t know how you can go for a whole week with a single outfit!” she marvelled. “This is what we needed for our week away!”

August 27, 2018

Soon after we got started, we reached the bog bridging the farmer at Calabrese Farm Store had told us about. It was, indeed, a significant project, and a welcome dry crossing of the bog!

Just a short way south, we came to a small road with residences. The trail followed a wide green swath of mowed grass lined with a vegetation fence to our right. It looked to me like the landowner had created a clear easement for the trail, complete with a signed parking area at the road junction. The kiosk there displayed a map with Trail Section #1 to our north. That would mean that Connecticut was just across this road! Well, almost!

We followed the white blazes through a back yard, then stayed on the mowed pathway, confidently walking south. We passed an empty field lined with white signs declaring that this field was used to grow “industrial hemp”. We stayed on the perimeter, towards the next field, and around a pine tree, then stopped. Hmm. The path had lost its clarity and it seemed like we were headed straight for a house. “Maybe we missed it.” One of us said.

Turn around. Retrace our steps to the last blaze. Search carefully in the vegetation. Yep . There it was, a white blaze on a post just past that first yard, not past the hemp field, but to the left, through the uncut Jewelweed. Grumbling that we would have kept Section #1 well maintained, we got back on trail.

Now, we were on track to leave Massachusetts and enter our third state. In a quiet pine woods, the “Welcome to Connecticut” sign greeted us, along with a three-foot cube of concrete, a monument perhaps. We used it for a kitchen counter/seat and cooked the breakfast we had skipped to get away from mosquitos at our tentsite.

We continued south, noting one significant change in the trail’s messaging. The blazes were now blue. From this point on, we would be searching for the blue blazes of the CT trail system. I was curious how the trails would be distinguished from each other, if all the trails were blue-blazed ones.

I’m writing this after our walk and can’t actually remember details about the first 8 miles of Connecticutt. The trail followed a pretty direct southward line along the ridge, called the Metacomet Ridge, actually. We got many good views of the countryside a few hundred feet below. This was a section where we entered several conservation areas owned by various land trusts, a significant feature of this trail. My pictures of this day show four signs for different land trusts, including one for “The George L. Harmon Woodlot” which was a beautiful stand of trees. I was grateful to Mr. Harmon for his role in protecting this woods. We walked through it graciously!

Just before noon, we reached one of the eight designated overnight spots on the trail, Windsor Locks Scouts Primitive Campsite at mile 106 from the NH border. We had planned to camp there that same night, but were ahead of schedule, arriving too early in the day to stop, and feeling pretty good about “sleeping out” in the trail corridor. We felt even better about our practices after seeing what an approved campsite looks like.

Here’s what we noticed:

• The campsite was within sight of the trail
• A side trail had been built to it
• The vegetation had been cleared from the 300-400ft square area
• An insulated box filled with gallon milk jugs refilled with water offered water to campers

We prefer our style of low-impact use which we believe current NET thruhikers would generally adopt. “If this is what the trail administrators regard as ‘camping’, then we hope they never allow it on the NET!”

Just before 2 p.m. we reached Rt 20, our turnnoff for our second maildrop at East Granby. This was an easy walk into town along a paved bike path all the way to the town services center, a half mile from the trail.

The Post Office, library and other govt buildings were within the same few acres. We picked up our box and sat outside on the lawn in the shade sorting it out. We had too much food now, so we packed up a couple pounds, plus partially used ointment, completed sketches, and the Massachusetts map and guidebook and sent them “home” to my Mom’s.

With that chore accomplished, we walked over to the library for internet and charging time. The librarians welcomed us and chatted about the trail. We plugged in our phones and got logged in online. A couple hours later, we filled our water bottles in the library kitchen and set out again. Libraries and post offices are welcome community services in our long-distance walks!

Right around the corner was a strip of businesses including four eateries! We chose Wok on the Wild Side and took a seat in a booth. We were the only customers there! We did notice a sporadic stream of Take Out customers, so felt better for the restaurant. We ordered two dinners and couldn’t eat all that food! I filled my lidded bowl with extras and packed it out for later. At 5 p.m. we were back on the walkway to the trail.

At the trailhead, we read the sign indicating the ownership of the land we were entering, The Galasso Company. It makes crushed stone and paving materials. We were grateful that the company had set aside an easement for the trail along the ridge above the huge quarry we walked by. It took us an hour of climbing and walking to get past the quarry. Then, we started looking for a tenting spot. We had a little trouble because the woods was fairly open and criss-crossed with bike or ATV trails. Every time we stepped off our usual 20 feet or so, we’d hit another trail! We did eventually find a spot as it was getting dark and set up for our eleventh night on the trail. It was really hot, though, so we decided to sleep in just the net, leaving the rainfly off. It was also quite buggy, so we squeezed into the net and ate our leftover Chinese food. We couldn’t keep it over night! I wasn’t even hungry, but it tasted good, even better than in the restaurant!

This was probably our most uncomfortable night what with the heat and tight fit. Without the fly to pull out the sides of the net, our bodies touched the sides, exposing our skin to the voracious mosquitos!

August 23, 2018

We got an early start from our hidden tentsite, soon reaching a sign that said “Queen Street”. I saw only trail, so didn’t know what Queen Street meant. We were getting near Amherst. Maybe Queen Street left town and kept going into the forest. A good question there!

The forest seemed typically New England, with lots of mushrooms, birch trees, ferns and northern flowers. I took a few “typical forest” shots.

Here’s a link to an album of mushroom photos taken today. There are so many mushrooms!

https://photos.app.goo.gl/RJKvBKXdZGeMD6g7A

Mt. Lincoln was our first summit, topped with communications towers and a firetower we couldn’t get into and no views.

Around 8 a.m. we reached a scenic spot called Scarborough Pond, complete with a picnic table, a perfect spot for our snack of rehydrated applesauce from my mom’s trees. It came out more like chunks of leather than sauce, but reminded me of being at my mom’s in Ohio watching her favorite backyard apple tree. We heard voices near the pond and soon discovered we were at Gulf Road, our next road walk! I was getting interested in noticing the many organizations who owned land along this trail! The one near the pond was Scarborough Brook Conservation Area. In the next section we saw signs for the Kestral Land Trust. Very cool name!

The rest of the morning occupied us with walking through the outskirts of Amherst. At the turn off from Bay Road back into the woods, there is literally a rope to help ascend the cliff that takes us back onto trail. Apparently, the trail corridor is too narrow to allow for a contoured ascent. I stowed my poles and grabbed onto the rope, grateful for strong arms and legs.

Now, we were at the northern end of the Holyoke Range. We could see from the elevation profile in the guidebook that the next 11 miles would be a sawtooth of ups and downs. The peaks weren’t all that high, barely breaking 1,000 ft, but the trail went up and down “every” rock outcrop along the ridge. Is there a rule in New England that one has to go straight up and down a climb, taking the shortest distance to get from the bottom to the top, then go directly back down? I kept asking that question and variations of it, “What were the designers of this trail thinking? For whom is this designed? Was this route planned or did it just get pounded out by athletic conquerors competing to top the most summits?” I was sincerely trying to come up with an answer that I could honor and respect, open to reframing my distaste for the steep, relentless ups and downs. I was feeling judgement and anger at the people who had made this trail, while ceaselessly practicing my Meet the Mountains Technique to maintain my stamina, prevent injury, and make the traverse easy. In my mind, I sincerely sought to choose an affirmative view for appreciating this style of trail. I practiced out loud with John. “Ahh. I love the challenge of this trail! It’s so great to get to another climb! Wow! So glad I didn’t miss this outcrop!” John heard my trial affirmations as complaints. So, I kept my mouth shut and kept walking, working out my frustration in silence.

A little after 1 p.m. we got our first view of Mt Norwottock, still 2 miles away, and the highpoint of today’s walk.

I was beginning to accept the jagged terrain and silently maneuvered it, focusing on taking each step safely, bending my knees, using my trekking poles consistently, and stepping accurately on each step. The ascent up Norwottock included a feature called “The Squeeze”, a slot through jagged boulders that young boys would love and old ladies like me endured. I faked a smile when John insisted on taking my picture surmounting The Squeeze.

Norwottock was indeed a worthwhile achievement where we looked over the widespread landscape to the north.

Now, we watched our time. Our next landmark was the Notch Visitor Center, described in the guidebook as having restrooms, water, and outlets for charging. It closes at 5 p.m. We diligently covered the 1.2 mile steep descent, meeting a handful of dayhikers walking in this popluar area. We reached the Visitor Center a little after 4. We found the restrooms and water fountain easily. The outside receptacle didn’t work, but the outlets in the lobby near the bathrooms worked. None of these would be available to hikers outside of open hours.

I studied the 3-D map of the Holyoke Range and discovered that we had just traversed “The Seven Sisters”. Oh yes! We definitely went up and down all seven of them!

Our next adventure of the day was to continue south, across busy MA 116 and up out of the Notch to Bare Mtn. Resuming our steady, athletic rock climbing, we joined several other hikers on the half-mile, 400-ft climb to the precipitous view of the notch and the northern Holyoke Range. In plain view was a quarry, stair-stepped with carved away earth, the negative space of the mountain on which we perched.

On our way up, we were passed twice by a man apparently using Bare Mountain for his exercise therapy. He wasn’t smiling, but he was stepping quickly both up and then down that mountain. Now, here was someone relating with the design of this trail in a significantly transformative way. I was content to be ascending Bare Mountain once.

Our sensitivity about camping out along the trail was tested when we met a couple who asked, “Are you camping here?” “No.” I answered, meaning that I was not camping right there on Bare Mountain! “Where are you camping, then?” We walked away, saying “further south.” Although we were getting more comfortable with our way of sleeping off the trail without leaving a trace, we support the rule of “No Camping” realizing that a general view of camping is to clear a large area of vegetation, build a fire ring with a fire and leave it all behind as an established campsite. We weren’t doing that.

We went up and down a couple of jags until we reached the sign for Hitchcock Mtn. Not wanting to go much further as dusk settled and this rugged day’s mileage had already topped 14, we left the trail toward the northfacing ridge and plopped down on a tiny flat spot about 30 ft off the trail, as far as we could get before going down the slope. As always, we hung our food bag, cooked on our stove, and quietly blended into the forest as darkness fell and an owl called.

August 20, 2018

The nearby chuch bell chimed the hour all through the night. I heard it each hour except 2, so I must have slept soundly at least a couple of hours. At 6 bells we started to get up. The morning woods was quiet, peaceful, and tingling with life! Even though we weren’t supposed to be there, I felt that we were honoring the forest by being there reverently, protectively.

We descended gently down from Little Grace Mountain past Bass Swamp and Bass Road. A quaint, handpainted sign laid out our day. We were aiming for Farley and beyond, 15 miles south.

What a full day of landmarks, terrain changes, and a good surprise!

We reached Stratton Mountain, decorated with a stark monolith and an altar-like stack of boulders. I imagined Aslan, the great lion from the Chronicles of Narnia, lying there in sacrifice. Nearby, the 7-ft high solid rock, standing symbolically on its end, reminded us that humans like to erect monuments. These would have taken some big machines to stand up and stack!

Just a few minutes away, winding through the forest, we arrived at another landmark, the Richardson-Zlogar Cabin. Our original itinerary had put us here tonight, but now we were ahead of schedule. It was just 10 a.m.! We did enjoy a nice break here, gazing north with a perfect view of both Mount Grace and Mount Monadnock, 38 trail miles back. That was a nice feeling of accomplishment!

The cabin looked cozy and dry. It would be a good place to stay if we could be certain of our arrival date and reserve it in advance.

https://newenglandtrail.org/facilities/richardson-zlogar-cabin

Two more miles of gentle descent through Northfield State Forest took us to our first significant road walk, Gulf Road. We crossed the road and saw signs for a preserve area and wondered why the trail wouldn’t go through it. The sign and kiosk posters alerted us that the trail was closed 1.4 mile ahead after Crag Mt, so we would have to take the road walk.

Addendum, Next day, I received this email from Jim, whom we had met on Mt Grace.

“At Gulf Road crossing, you’ll see a sign that says “trail deads ends” in 1.1 miles. It does not. I hiked that section on Friday. You can proceed following the white blazes, and at that 1.1 mile point there is no trail closed sign or anything, but the blazes do stop (you can see them painted over with brown). The trail is easy to follow, and in another mile or so the blazes are actually blue for a bit. Keep following the well-worn path, with a couple of nice views on Crag hill, and then you’ll come out on a dirt road, which is a driveway, and turn left, and in a couple hundred yards you’ll hit Mountain Road, and rejoin the official route. Just before the road intersection, you’ll see a sign on your right side (west) that indicates it’s private land and stay on trail, but nothing about a closure.

I suspect what happened here is a landowner closed it, and then decided to reopen it or maybe it’s a new landowner, but in any event, it saves almost three miles of road walking.“

The road wasn’t bad for walking, with a shoulder and moderate traffic. We imagined a few of the houses, now boarded up right next to the road, being converted into hiker shelters. To our surprise, part way down the road, we saw signs for “Farm Store.” It was right there on the road, too! No one seemed to be there, however, and it looked like the front porch was still under construction. Was it open?

Yes. It was open for self-serve! What a nice surprise! Food on the trail! We found eclectic delectables too – kimchi, kombucha, fresh corn, cucumber, and I threw in a bag of “profits go to autistic kids” potato chips and used the iPad bolted to the counter to pay. We sat on a bench made from a board suspended between cinder blocks and snacked on kimchi and kombucha, eating it down enough that the rest could fit in our lidded bowl to pack out.

My receipt from Northwoods Store appeared in my email.

We walked the last half-mile of Gulf Road, then climbed up Mountain Road, locating the double blazes indicating the turn off into woods next to someone’s house.

The next stretch of woods was short and beautiful, emptying out onto a gravel road. Our next treasure hunt was the turn off for Hermit Mountain. This section has the mystique of a side trail to a “Hermit’s Cave”. We didn’t go there, but stayed on the white-blazed trail, winding up to a scenic overlook in Erving State Forest, with a sweeping view of Millers River below.

It was tempting to sleep out up there, but while we walked south looking for a spot we kept going all the way down to Rattlesnake Mtn, which was too close to the road and in a popular area for climbers. Soon, we were out on the road again in a residential neighborhood where people’s front yards were roped off for parking.

We carefully crossed busy Rt 2 and found the blazes on Bridge Street to cross the Millers River. No stopping here! Now we were committed to the 2-mile roadwalk on Farley Road to Wendell State Forest. This was an ok roadwalk, past homes and a woman calling from the mailbox down to the house below. Apparently, she was looking for a walking companion. She passed us where we had stopped along the road, finding a fresh-looking spring to fill our water bottles. I wonder if she enjoyed taking her evening walks on a national scenic trail!

It was a little tricky finding the blazes at the end of Farley Road, but we discovered them taking us a half mile west on Mormon Hollow Road before turning off into the woods. Soon, we discovered why. The trail designers wanted us to tour the ruins of the mill town along Mormon Hollow Brook! Fascinating!

Past the ruins, we came to a footbridge, cordoned off with “closed” signs. We studied the bridge and decided to cross it, trusting its sturdy-looking I-beams instead of fording the stream below. We made it, no problem. Later, we realized that maybe it had been closed so snow machines or big groups didn’t use it.

We walked south up the mountain on an old road, finding a flat area where the trail turned sharply. We walked into the woods about fifty yards and set up our tent, threw up our bear line, and cooked dinner on our canister stove just before dark, confident that we were invisible off the trail.

This was our longest day, so far. 18 miles.