HIKED ON: August 7, 2024

All walks tell a story.  Most of the time we do not articulate it.  Maybe many of them are just a laundry list of errands; "I bought a coffee then walked to the office then walked to lunch," and so on.  However, some try to be more.  A person or persons get together and try to create an adventure that will underscore or celebrate the story of a place or thing.  The mid state trail is one of those walks.  The "story" gives glimpses into the landscape, economy, history and people of Worcester County.

This, of course, is the second leg of our journey.  The first--a walk through and around the Douglass State Forest--was wooded.  This hike starts in a similar way, with a few miles left of Douglass.  This area had been more heavily populated and industrialized in the early 20th Century.  Similarly to our first hike, there was ample evidence of previous habitation.  Now, however, nature is clearly in control. After the park, the trail dips between country roads and forested back yards until emerging in downtown Oxford.

Most of it was lovely.  The road parts were a bit hard on the feet but the traffic was lighter than we had feared, which was nice.  There was also a slight navigational challenge.  Maps of this route are constantly being updated as the Worcester branch of the Appalachian Mountain Club negotiates with towns, businesses, and homeowners for access to the forested areas on their various properties.  Growing up in New England I am familiar with sometimes-jealously-guarded borders.  It cannot be an easy task. That said, they seem to be doing a good job of it!  Many times our maps (we were using both Google maps and the Alltrails app) would have us on yet another road.  However, the signage informed us of another compact that squeezed a half-mile more of forest for our enjoyment. Life has been crazy lately.  However, I am tempted to volunteer for the local AMC. Right now I am grateful for their work.

As for sights, there was a nice old graveyard about halfway through the day's journey.  We stopped for our break there and re-arranged our rain gear.  The stone markers went back to the 18th Century and--presumably--the first white settlers on our route.  There were a number of working farms as well, and many rolling fields.  Much of the area reminded me of Dutchess County New York, where I worked on my grandparent's farm in the summer and fall when I was a kid.  There were roads and road crossings that required our attention but...mostly not.  In general it was an easygoing 11.5 mile trip!

A couple of notes: Be sure to bring enough snacks!  While you will be on roads for about half of this section, there aren't really a ton of places to provision. Also, consider a reflecting vest or your hunter orange gear.  The roads--not surprisingly--don't have very wide shoulders and there are no sidewalks.  I would think twice about bringing your dog for this same reason.  Also, think hard about your footwear.  The roads are hard and smooth but many of the "backyard" portions are rocky and--at least in our case--wet.  There seem to be a number of seasonal riverbeds involved in the current route. You could also make a great case for hiking poles even though there are those road parts.

Finally--as I mentioned earlier--be sure to take your time to looks for signs and blazes.  The trail is a living document and you can miss a turn easily.  We sure did. In our case we landed in a cul-de-sac and turned around.  However, in the forested sections you could end up wandering through someone's yard very easily.  A best it is a mild trespass.  At worst, you could also startle the many dogs and livestock you encounter, creating chaos for yourself and others!

All told it was a good trip.  I had been dreading the roads a bit but they were fine.  From our map it looks like the next section will be similar.  Then--north of the City ---the green spaces are closer together.  Something to look forward to...

Behold, I am doing a new thing;
    now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?
I will make a way in the wilderness
    and rivers in the desert.  --Isaiah 43:19

I have been thinking about this quote from Isaiah a lot lately.  I find it reassuring to think that the Great Whatever that encompasses all of us is always starting anew in a perpetual cycle of beginnings, endings, and in-betweens.  Right now I am in the midst of endings and struggling to find the trailhead for whatever comes next.  Mostly that is an OK place to be.  However, it isn't ever easy.

Perhaps that is why I recently started a manageable new thing. Sometimes an achievable goal can help us practice for harder ones. The way the world is right now, we can all use the practice.

The Mid-State Trail runs the roughly 90-mile length of Worcester County from the border of Rhode Island to the border of New Hampshire.  I have explored a good chunk of its northern end but done very little with the space south of the City of Worcester.  Worcester is New England's second largest municipality.  However, it drops off fast, meaning that while there is plenty of road walking, most of it is in the woods.

​This project is more gentle than the mountain climbing "lists" that I spend much of my time with.  Also, Worcester County is much more accessible to me.  I can work on it when I can and put it away when I cannot. Finally, it is an area I enjoy exploring.  For the last two decades I have lived in the 'burbs.  By just heading that little bit west of my home I can pretend that I live somewhere else. I wrote up a few of those previous hikes on the trail, therefore...

​I will put a number of links at the bottom of this post so you can learn more about Mid-State!

The trail has its roots in the 1920's but came to fruition quite a bit later.  It was finally completed some time in the 1980's and is now maintained by the Worcester Chapter of the Appalachian Mountain Club.  They are always recruiting volunteers.  I should look into that. Anyway, the goal was--and is--to maintain a long trail that ties together the numerous smallish parks that decorate the maps of Central Massachusetts.  The first sections were in the North, where the road walks are not that intense.  Mounts Watatic and Wachusett are two major gems in the region going back before colonization.  As I noted in a previous post, Henry David Thoreau had some things to say about that area as well. ​Again, links to previous hikes are below.

My goal for this trail has always been to hike from one end to the other, using car-spots to prevent too much doubling back.  While I have explored it a great deal, I am a completist by nature and the gaps in my geographical mind-map bother me. My friend Sarah Stewart is doing this with me and will be providing that other car.  She actually lives in Worcester so the commute, while fairly simple for me, is even easier for her.  An added benefit is that Sarah is also a preacher, so we can talk shop without bothering our spouses.

Even though I said that we are hiking south to north, we walked this southernmost section in the other direction.  This was thanks to some complications.  First, I had a meeting, which threw a wrench into our plans.  Second...there is no parking lot at the ​actual beginning of the trail.  So, after much thought, we found that the simplest thing to do would be to start at the parking lot at Route 16, head south to the beginning of the trail, then turn north to hike a few miles back to the main entrance  to Douglas State Park, where we put our southernmost car.  In the end, it took about 7 miles of walking to complete the first 5.5 mile section.

The entirety of this day's walk occured inside Douglas State Forest.  The trail, itself, was relatively flat and featured some views of one of the few Atlantic White Cedar wetlands in the region.  Apparently there is a boardwalk over part of it.  However, if we cross it at all, it must be on a different day.  Along the way we stopped talking to listen to the birds and to notice the abundance of bear scat on the trail.  We didn't linger too much thanks to the presence of a large number of singing insects.  There were also blueberries and a blueberry-like fruit which seemed related to the "bilberries" I ate in abundance while hiking in Scotland. More research and eating is necessary...

There was also evidence of former human habitation.  Cellar holes and stone walls dotted the forest.  Also, the trail, itself showed evidence of being a road earlier in life.  I have done some research in what the area might be...but I haven't come to any great conclusions.  The next section will start in Douglas as well, so maybe by then I will have something to report.

That is all for now.  It is fun to start on a new thing, particularly one without a deadline that gets us outside, moving around, and breathing the fresh air. When the end to a beginning seems attainable. It helps with the less attainable ones, right?  In any case, it strengthens us for the journey and adventures of life.

Hiked on May 5, 2023

One of the ironies of our current hiking project is that I don't get out to western Massachusetts very often.  Part of the reason is that it feels so far away from our home in the east.  While it is closer to us than many of our New Hampshire hikes, it still feels farther.  That said, we finally got out to hike the famous Mount Greylock.  We had driven up--because that is a thing--but it was special take the slow route.

I am glad we did it.  Greylock is the tallest peak in the state and, while it doesn't break 4,000 feet, it has the atmosphere of something larger.  Our primary reason for choosing this particular day had to do with flooding in the north.  All these big mountains release massive amounts of melted snow this time of year.  Greylock does too.  However there had also been massive amount of rain in northern New England making both hiking and driving difficult.  The southerly position of our hike today meant that not only did we not have much rain, we also were on a peak where the snowmelt had already occurred.

So...  here is our hike!  I highly recommend it, particularly if you live in the Bay State.  We have many pretty and impressive natural sights that sometimes get neglected for what is right above us on the map.  We should be proud of what we have!

It really was snowing and raining for most of the time. However, the gray moodiness for this hike worked well. The trail along the long ridge undulated and the the snow shifted slightly under my feet. The rain and mist rising up from the warming snow was atmospheric, creating the sort of atmosphere that must have inspired a writer like Tuckerman. He preferred to keep to himself, after all. In 1860 when he published his first and only book--perhaps unimaginatively named "Poems"--he received a confused response. Many of his friends and acquaintances among the New England Literati didn't actually know he was a serious writer before their complimentary copies arrived. Tuckerman's book was only a mild commercial success. The response from his transcendentalist and romantic friends like RW Emerson, Jones Very and the Longfellows indicated that he had potential. However, only Nathaniel Hawthorn seems to have actually enjoyed it entirely.

That said, most saw moments of brilliance, particularly in his collection of sonnets. They praised his close observation of nature. Later he would be described as a writer of herbariums. His focus on the minutia of the natural world could--when his writing was on point--create an immersive effect prized by readers of the day.  His description of beans--in a poem ostensibly about coffee but really a story about some local characters--is typical of that work;
"The bean, the garden bean I sing--
Lima, mazagan, late and early
Bush, butter, black eye, pole and string
Esculent, annual, planted yearly"

He was also known to make up place names and allude to people he invented as if they were from the Bible or ancient literature.  The dude could create a world, which is something that--as a gamer and reader of speculative fiction--is something I can get behind.

That said, not all was happy in his life.  Most of his poetry is dark. His later poems--after the death of his wife--are even more gloomy.  As a young man he retreated out to Deerfield to be away from society and from the many connections cultivated by his family.  He was the brother of a famous botanist, Edward Tuckerman, and a composer, Samuel Tuckerman.  Henry Tuckerman--another writer--was his cousin. Far from Boston, apparently, he could be his romantic self. 

​In the early 20th Century, Tuckerman was rediscovered...or...in some ways discovered for the first time. But the discovery was brief. At least it got him a monument, right? Now you can find his work in some anthologies of poets from the era. However, the easiest way to read him is to get his one book for your e-reader. After all, it is free online.

There is more about Tuckerman and about the hike in the video below.  Also, I turned it into a podcast

Hiked on February 14, 2023

This was a spontaneous hike.  Thursday's weather looked hideous as usual and I wanted to see the sun!  I decided, therefore, to hit Route 2 and head over to the High Ledges Audubon Wildlife Sanctuary on a Tuesday to catch the view.  I had been saving it for a perfect day...and this was pretty close.  The loop I chose was around 5 miles and featured an undulating landscape with a small mountain, a fire tower, a valley, and some hills.  The snow was fairly compact to start and then it got loose as the air warmed it up.  This made footing a bit of a challenge...and I brought out the micro spikes.

I could use the workout though.  There has been quite a bit going on.  The church is wrestling with some big questions.  Finally, I have a few weeks of sabbatical starting soon.  I will give thought to the church's questions then and add in a few of my own....

I say all this now because hikes like this are a series of small decisions.  This week on a Tuesday I decided to get up and get going.  I decided where to go.  There were all kinds of micro decisions that helped me to focus on the day. How would I get there? Would I do both the out-and-back to the tower or just the ledges themselves? Was this a good use of my time? How would I deal with the vagaries of weather?

Also, on this trip, I decided to do some more extensive filming.  It has been a while.  Many of you are aware of my interest in 21st century communication.  This weblog is part of that.  My podcasts are as well. For a long time I was into making youtube videos of sermons, church news, meditations, music and--during the plague--entire worship services.  Sometimes this meant collaboration.  At other times I worked on them by myself.  I got into it through a series of small decisions that brought me joy.  A series of small decisions may bring me back...or maybe they come to nothing.  It is too early to tell.

If we use the model of "Sabbath Walks" that I write and talk about here and elsewhere, all of these endeavors--these choices made and sometime pursued--fall into the category or "frame" of dialogue or creativity. On this hike, for example, the choice to film meant stopping and starting; recording sections of trail, talking to the camera while imagining future viewers, editing after getting home while re-living the excursion, and improvising a soundtrack.  I had to make decisions about equipment.  If I keep doing this there will be more decisions to make as some things may need replacing.

There are many little steps. After all to even get to the point of recording there was research. There were skills that could use some improvement through repetition.  That said, I am learning. While this decision may not lead to anything more, it just might...probably in surprising ways.  After all, nobody thought the skills I learned from my "hobby" would help hold online worship together during the early months of Covid.  Ultimately we found somebody more skilled. Of course, nobody thought that the skilled person we found would be a beloved former member of the D&D Club and the Snow Posse who had moved away.  Decisions keep on rippling out, don't they?

Anyway, I have included the video.  I think it is pretty good for a first attempt!  I also started a Sabbath Walks YouTube page that you can subscribe to to get notifications.  Just click on the video above and hit "subscribe." I may decide make more of these moving pictures.  We shall see.  Both I and the church are looking for ways to communicate.  Perhaps this is the way.

Here is to your decisions and dialogues.  I hope you have found something to bring the sabbath "walk" to life regardless of what it is or how you go about it.  Many blessings on your travels until next time.  I will see you out on the trail.

Hiked on February 2, 2023

Somewhere along the way of this project, it appears that at least a few people got the impression that I am particularly rugged or outdoorsy.  I am not of course. I am just a suburban dad transitioning to empty-nester with a bad back and sore knees.  I prefer a room and a bed--preferably my own--to a tent or sleeping platform. It is just that I find the Transcendent in nature, and that helps get me through the week.

I have been doing some workshops on Sabbath Walks.  I have been pitching them as "mindful walking" workshops because the word "sabbath" appears to make some folk uncomfortable.  Maybe it is because "sabbath" is a religion-word.  I like it better, though, "mindful" is way too broad.

Anyway, It is at these events--and the conversation around them--that I have noticed this disconnect.  People will come up me to say it is all very interesting...but they cannot go on a big hike.  Usually this is for physical reasons, which I totally get.  The only issue is that I am not talking about hiking.  I am talking about walking and even that has more to do with sitting.  The process is all about perspective and intention.  Are you paying attention to the world around you?  Are you letting your experience influence your understanding through reflecting on your context?  Then you are more than good.

Actually I haven't gone on many big hikes lately.  Work has gotten in the way.  So has the weather.  I do get out every week but all of my Sabbath Walks in 2023 have been in Massachusetts.  It is a good thing that we have so many great opportunities to get out in nature here!  Yes, it will be hard to cultivate "likes" in the same way when the views are less dramatic and the physical effort may also be.  That said, I have enjoyed immersing myself in the land close to home. 

Some of the best hikes lately have been repeats.  I trundled up Mount Watatic again and again.  The Graces and the Crow Hill Ledges still stand out.  One of the best walks I had was my usual four-mile round-trip stroll downtown...but at night.  This made all the difference. 

What I really want to talk to you about though, is the Assabet River Wildlife Refuge.

I have to say that ​I only recently really clued into its existence.  I went over there because the weather in New Hampshire was turning dangerous and I also had the need to find something more accessible for a group Sabbath Walk in the spring.  As I mentioned earlier, people think that these walks need to be challenging.  They do not.  I was--and am--searching for places where a person could walk a few feet to find a pretty place to sit. If they wished, they could move on for a more challenging workout...but they wouldn't have to.  When you are in a group you need both "easyish" and "hardish" options, so everybody gets what they want or need.

Now, on this hike  I had expected to see wildlife...and I did.  What was surprising, though, was the large amount of evidence of previous human habitation! Many of the trails were unusually wide and there were patches of old, cracked pavement in places.  Also, right where I parked was the foundation of an old tavern dating back to 1700.  However,  the most remarkable thing was the proliferation of immense concrete bunkers tucked away in the forest.  Each had a massive metal door that was barred and locked like some dystopian Hobbit hole.  Since my trip I heard from friends who had been in one.  The description seems to fit as they appear bigger on the inside. The one they visited was vast, cold, and oppressive.

Now, I later learned that there were 50 of these bunkers in the park.  Therein lies a story. First, of course, this land was wilderness. Then it was occupied by native Americans. Then, as Europeans came to this continent, it was a neighborhood for a long time.  That is where the old tavern came in. Later Henry David Thoreau would pass through to visit friends.  In fact, it stayed a agricultural community until 1942.

Then, as the Second World War heated up, the land was seized by eminent domain.  The people were moved. There were about 100 of them and they claim their compensation was 10 cents on the dollar. Their houses and the tavern were destroyed.  In their place were  those big bunkers, to store ammunition for Fort Devens.  After a while this annex was sealed off and abandoned. Finally, in 2005, it was opened to the public.  When I told this story in church and asked if anyone had been there only my eldest son raised his hand.  His high school cross-country team ran there.  Otherwise it is a new park to pretty much everyone I know.

As you walk along its trails today there is all this evidence of the past.  There are so many layers of humanity.  Some of those layers tell peaceful stories of life lived in the usual ways.  Others tell stories of fear, displacement, and violence. 

Now, the story of this refuge can be read as a parable. With any good parable we have choices to make about how we approach it and where we see ourselves in it. We can imagine ourselves in the position of The Native Americans, or the early colonists, or the neighborhood right before the war...all of them swept away.  Perhaps instead we could see with the eyes of those massive bunkers stubbornly demanding our place in the midst of the wilderness. They are solid, powerful, obnoxious even…but largely irrelevant to the world moving around them.

Or…we could see ourselves in the refuge, itself; adapting to our current context to serve current needs and connecting to the ecosystem that sustains us.  Whatever we choose--and at times we have probably felt ourselves in all these categories with more besides--this walk reminds us of the fullness of time and the power of creation to alter our understanding of what "truth" is. 

It is a thoughtful place for a walk, or a sit, or a stand. I spent a couple of hours there.  Then I went to a bar and wrote the beginnings of a sermon--here is the podcast version--with this story as its inspiration.  That is what is supposed to happen on a sabbath walk.  There should be a physical and mental challenge, then a new insight gained and a dialogue created.  We make sense of our reality through reflection, after all.

\My step counter says I walked 8.5 miles and there was much more to explore. I will definitely be back there soon.

Thoreau actually wrote a poem about travelling though this area.  The Old Marlborough Road exists as a road outside the preserve, but inside it continues as a perimeter road to the park.  I hiked it.  It was mostly quiet, with a few strollers and fat bikers.  Anyway...here is the poem. It isn't necessarily one of his best, but it helps to give life to the people who used to live there. Also the page describes the area a bit. In my sermon I said the refuge is in Sudbury and Wayland.  Of course it is actually in Sudbury and Maynard. After twenty years living here my geographical references are still those of a Mainer.  By way of reparation, the link is to a Maynard historical site.

Update: ​I finally got around to making a video of my most recent hike here.  So if you are interested...here it is!

Hiked On January 12, 2023

One of my mentors in ministry told us that on his sabbath days he would put his canoe on top of his truck and drive it through the middle of town. Sometimes he would take his canoe fishing, which is what everyone assumed he was doing. Sometimes he would just paddle around and go home. Sometimes, though, he would drive his canoe to Bangor for a bagel and a coffee with friends...and maybe a trip to the seminary library.

He told this story to convey four things. First, that the people of Maine are all pantheists at heart. As a Mainer born and raised I can confirm that this is true. Second, that people may not always respect your "off" time but will do their darndest to respect your sabbath time. Third--and this is where the canoe comes in--in a town of pantheists, a canoe on your truck means you are fishing...and fishing is sacred. Finally, the lesson was that you are best off leaving the parish come sabbath-time.  That way folks will not be able to get in touch with you as easily.  Also--more importantly--you will be away from the things that draw you back to your labors.

On Thursday I concluded that I could probably clear a few homiletical cobwebs as well as partially arrest my downward slide in health and fitness by taking a good walk. Maybe I could shock myself back into action! I put my heavy pack on and drove back out to the Leominster State Forest.  There I  continued the loop that I started a couple weeks earlier.  The total hike was about 3.8 miles and 600ish feet of total elevation.  So not a big climb.  However, I am out of practice. My knees hurt at the end.

The thing about this loop up the Crow Hill Ledges is that it features a short, steep  section at the very beginning. I guess it could be at the end instead if one takes the loop the other way. I like to climb up rather than climb down, though.  So I always choose the hard part first.

​After that things roll a bit along a long ledge.  There are obscured views through the tree trunks that wouldn't be there the rest of the year.  On this day, though, many of them were still socked in a bit by rain and fog.  The crisp, clean wintery air had been replaced by, well...shoulder season weather. It felt like early spring.
​

Hiked Most Recently on September 9, 2022

Most people I know--be they casual walkers or intense backpackers and peak baggers--have a favorite hike or walk.  For some people it is the longest (or most difficult) trip they had.  Maybe it is the hardest (or tallest) mountain.  For others convenience and accessibility are key. Maybe there is a pretty spot involved.  Sometimes it is a place where an important personal event occurred.  As with most heart-centered choices, the reasons vary.  For me, the decision really comes down to how it makes me feel.

What I want to talk to you about today has to do with the internal dimensions of hiking.  We live in an anxious world. Some of us internalize that anxiety as we move through an era that tries its best to push us away from our center.  Make no mistake, this is intentional.  Anxiety (along with a number of negative emotions) makes us feel empty and unworthy.  It also makes us buy stuff to fill the emptiness.  The Man gets rich off our unhappiness.

I know this feeling very well.  I start worrying before I get out of bed in the morning.  I worry all day. Sometimes I worry in my sleep. Every moment of every day, even when I am doing or thinking about something else, I am anxious about something.  What that thing is doesn't really matter.  It can be big or small...but it is always there.  So when I think about what I need in a hike, the "challenge rating" is not foremost in my mind.  Availability is.  Remoteness is.  Primarily, though, I am looking for a chance to transcend that worry. 

I want to be away from everything.  I want to be insignificant in the face of the vastness of the universe.  I want to sink into my surroundings until I know that whatever personal failing or foible that is concerning me is insignificant, too.  This technique is different from things like positive self-talk designed to build ourselves up. I am a believer in that too.  However, when I hike (or walk or whatever) I am trying to find my way to a positive connection with the Divine. I am trying to be part of a whole that will lift me up as I swim in its current.

I want to snicker at the trippy prose of transcendentalist philosopher Ralph Waldo Emerson when he writes in his book Nature, "Standing on the bare ground, — my head bathed by the blithe air, and uplifted into infinite spaces, — all mean egotism vanishes. I become a transparent eye-ball; I am nothing; I see all; the currents of the Universal Being circulate through me; I am part or particle of God."  I can't though.  Not really.  After all--when I am out in the world trying to feel the wind in the air and the rock beneath my feet--what the heck am I doing if not stumbling toward the same thing?
​

So when I need to clear my head, Mount Watatic gets the nod these days.  It is right of Route 119 (in Ashby and Ashburnham) and a little over an hour from my house.  The climb can easily be made into a 4 mile loop by including Nutting Hill and heading over to the New Hampshire border at the end.  It gets busy on the weekends and on many weekdays too.  However, if you get up early, you can have the place to yourself.

This is what I did on Friday.  I left the house at 4:45 and arrived a bit after official sunrise.  I walked to the top--getting turned around a couple of times--and made it to the ledge just below the peak where I sat alone for an hour. 

Watatic is a Monadnock which--as I have mentioned numerous times--means that it juts out alone over an otherwise flat landscape.  Wachusett is easily visible. That is another great hike. To the north one can see a number of larger peaks across the NH border. It also serves as a trail end for the Wapack trail that heads up the Pack Monadnocks to the north. It is also the northern end of the Mid-State trail that heads south across Massachusetts. Or, at least, the NH border just beyond it is.

Anyway, on Friday I spent the hour at the ledge not thinking very hard.  There is plenty going on in my life right now, which is typical for most everyone.  We need to slow down and shake off some of that burden when we can. As often happens, this became a theme in my sermon Sunday.  It was already a theme for sabbatical just around the corner.

It took a while to get in the mood.  I put my bag down, had a snack, and wandered around the ledge trying to decipher the 19th century graffiti scratched into the rock.  Finally, though, I settled in.  After that there isn't much to say.  I didn't make it to "transparent eyeball" status by a long shot.  However, there was a moment when my brain stopped sprinting toward numerous finish lines. That was the longest period of not worrying I have had for a long time. Both my body and my mind were grateful for the break.