Meandering through Massachusetts

Good afternoon, friends,

I’m sitting at the computer in the Dalton Free Public Library in Dalton, MA. After getting back on trail on Tuesday, we’ve thoroughly enjoyed every single day. The nights are getting cooler, there are spots where the mosquitoes are not hellacious, and the trail in Mass has overall been invigorating and inspiring. Each day has brought so much serendipity that it’s worth taking you through them as they came.

Tuesday

After exhausting all the goodwill of my aunt Julie in Pawling, NY, and having her drop us off in Salisbury, CT, we hiked up to the highest point in CT, Bear Mountain. The forest was comprised of shrub oaks and pitch pines, and the trees were barely over eight feet tall. The long rock slabs provided great views from the ridge as we went from Bear Mountain to Mt. Riga and finally up Mount Everett. We were sitting on the ridge up there, looking down on the valley to the east, and I thought, “This would be a great place to live”.

Out of curiosity, I took out my phone and I had two bars of service. I hopped on the internet’s largest real estate marketplace and started looking at what was for sale in the area. “Oh you would love this”, I said to C, as I pulled up a house that had an old antique barn attached to it. “We could convert the barn to a yoga studio and mushroom workspace.” As we kept hiking, we both couldn’t shake the idea, and so when we got to camp I texted the realtor. After a little back and forth with Judi, we had a scheduled showing for 11AM the next morning.

On recommendations from both Deirdre and Mark in the comments of a previous blog, we swung by Guilders Pond in the late afternoon. As we’ve gotten farther north, the trail has passed by many more lakes, ponds, streams, and general bodies of water in any form. That probably directly correlates to the mosquito population as well, but it’s been a welcome element as I like to swim, or at least wash the sweat off, whenever I get the opportunity.

It was a little late in the evening, and the sun dipped behind the clouds, so I only stuck my feet in Guilders Pond. The Massachusetts Department of Conservation and Recreation also doesn’t allow swimming in the pond, but Deirdre said it was okay. Verbatim: “no swimming signs everywhere but you must swim!”, and I was armed with that permission in case we felt aquatically inclined. We camped just north of the pond under large hemlocks and white pines at Glen Brooks shelter.

Wednesday

We had an early rise and hiked eight miles to Rt 7 in Sheffield, MA, and got there at 10:25 AM.

“Perfect, that gives us thirty minutes to get a hitch five minutes down the road to our potential future home and business”. Someone had even left a cooler with cold beverages at the road crossing so we sipped on some cold beverages with our thumbs up. 10:25 turned into 10:35 which turned into 10:45 as cars continued to zoom pass us. At 10:50 I called our realtor and told her we were probably going to be late unless we got a ride in the next minute or two.

“Oh was that you two on the side of the road?” Judi asked. “Uh, yea” I responded a bit sheepishly. It was also a touch awkward because that implied she drove pass and didn’t give us a ride, despite me pulling out the big guns by having Ciara stand front and center with her hair down. “Well, I have a hard stop at 12:15 so I’ll come and get you.”

It’s probably not a good sign for a realtor to have to pick up her potential clients on the side of the road, but we hopped into Judi’s SUV and went to check out the property. In the end, it needs a lot of work, particularly the barn, and we’re not actually going to move on anything until we finish the trail. She showed us another property, closer to where she picked us up, that could actually be a great hiker hostel and gave us different daydream ideas.

Judi dropped us off in downtown Great Barrington afterward where we had an underwhelming Mexican lunch and then got a ride back to the trailhead from Steady Stream, a trail angel who provided the cooler of cold beverages. He posted his number at the trailhead (we did try him after ten minutes of unsuccessful hitching in the AM, but it went to voicemail). Overall, Judi and Steady Stream were both lovely people and we are sending good energy to Judi’s Rhodesian Ridgeback as she recovers from surgery.

That evening, we hiked to Beartown State Forest where thru-hikers are allowed to camp along the banks of Benedict Pond and use the campfires, bathrooms, charging outlets, and other facilities for free.

Thursday

The day started cool, sunny, and breezy, some of the best weather we’ve had in months, but segued to overcast around midday. The rain was supposed to hold off until 5pm, and we were hoping to sneak into our next campsite before the skies opened up. Our plan was to double up on the ponds and hike 18 miles from Benedict Pond to Upper Goose Pond Cabin, a two-story cabin owned by the National Park Service and run by Massachussetts AT volunteers.

The hiking that day wound us through tall groves of white pines and hemlocks, and we stopped at a little stand on the side of the road that offered snacks and wifi. We talked to two of the neighborhood kids who had biked up there for a soda and a box of Mike & Ike’s, and asked them how they liked living in the area. They loved it. When we left the stand at 2PM, a light rain set in and blanketed us for the next four hours as we hiked to Upper Goose Pond Cabin. There was no plumbing nor electricity, but a roof to get out of the rain was all we really needed and the fireplace was an added bonus.

We were greeted by the caretaker, Forrest Gump, who brought a lot of pizzazz to our drenched and dreary attitudes. The cabin had twelve bunks and only five were occupied that evening, Ciara and I included. It’s nice to be the caboose of everyone hiking north because you don’t have to worry about space at campsites or other accommodations. We were there with another northbound friend, Rockstar, who we had met while ascending Bear Mountain a couple days prior.

Upon Forrest Gump’s recommendation, we jumped in the pond that evening with the rain still falling. It was brisk, but necessary and made for a much more comfortable and less sticky sleep. In the morning, Forrest cooked pancakes (all you can eat), which is the main attraction for thru-hikers staying at the cabin.

Friday

We were running low on snacks, but the day broke up nicely where we could hike ten miles to the “Cookie Lady” for a midday break, and then another ten miles into the town of Dalton where we could get dinner and a resupply. The morning was the same as Thursday, breezy and sunny, but fortunately it would stay this way all day. We got to the “Cookie Lady” at 1:30 where Ruth and her family have been hosting hikers at their farm Blueberry Hill by the AT for decades. She gives out free cookies to hikers, lets them charge up their electronics on her porch and get water from her spigot, and you can even spend the night in the bunkhouse if you’re so inclined.

We were planning on a quick pitstop, a “grab the cookies and go”, but the place was simply way too charming. There was also a sign that said “pick a bucket of berries in exchange for GOOD FOOD”. Now, “GOOD FOOD” is particularly enticing because we were reduced to eating mushed up Clif Bars, and in general we eat a lot of processed foods on the trail. It’s almost unavoidable when some of our resupply options are gas stations or dollar stores. We do the best we can in terms of trying to get foods with the shortest ingredient lists possible, but it’s still a far cry from anything that doesn’t come from a wrapper.

I told Ruth we’d pick a bucket of blueberries, which took a lot longer than I anticipated, but we were not lied too and received a heaping plate of GOOD FOOD.

We got back on the trail a couple hours later than we anticipated, but it was worth it. The plan was to hike to the town of Dalton where apparently a man lets campers stay for free on his property. We told Rockstar to give him the heads-up that we planned on staying there, but we didn’t have Rockstar’s number so we had no way of knowing whether or not that was kosher. We hauled the last nine miles to town and got there just after sunset, but before dark. No headlamps needed.

As the trail spit us out of the woods, we crossed train tracks and then winded down a quaint neighborhood street. We were looking for the last house on the left.

“You made it!” Rockstar popped off the porch before we even saw him. “Unfortunately, he said you can’t stay here…”

“Ah, really?” I retorted, unsure what our next move would be.

“No, there’s plenty of space.” Rockstar was just pulling my leg. Are we becoming best friends?

Anyway, Tom walked out and introduced himself. He has been hosting hikers in his yard, for free, for forty-seven years. That was hard for me to fathom. He told me that if we ordered in the next five minutes, we could still get hot sandwiches from the local sub shop. He gave me their number and I placed the order. He also gave me a bike to take into town to pick them up. In an age of liability and litigation, it was refreshing that a man who I met five minutes before was not only letting us stay on his lawn but was now giving me a bike (with no helmet and a low back tire) to ride into town in the dark.

In the morning, he gave us coffee, hard-boiled eggs, and some baked goods as we all sat at his picnic table and talked trail. Did you know that all the paper used for our US currency comes solely from the Crane Paper Mill in Dalton, MA? I didn’t.

The accommodations were better than a lot of hostels on the trail. Tom couldn’t have been more gracious, helpful, and thoughtful (he gave me his cell and home phone in case we have any questions about the trail while we’re in the area). This was a memorable stay.

Ciara has emerged from her blogger hiatus and blessed us with another update.

Our friend, Bryan, is going to join us tomorrow to hike up Mt. Greylock, the highest point in Massachusetts. As has been the theme all summer, it will be raining. He’ll get a proper AT baptism with an instant mashed potato supper in the rain.

We’ll see you in Vermont,

Aubrey