Todd Mountain, MA

Todd Mountain is not large but it does dominate the landscape from this old field...

Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see  Hebrews 11:1

Hiked on 6/19/26

It feels like I am always rehabbing lately. I am always healing from something.  I don't remember this from when I was younger, but the whole project of Sabbath Walks has been like this. First I was rehabbing my back, then there were various bouts of COVID. There were personal changes, of course, like the move. Then, just when I thought I was all clear to get back on the trail, I had my appendix removed.  I am not--I don't think anyway--all that out of shape. However, we just keep getting pushed back, don't we? There is a healing story in everyone's life.  It goes on and on and we are along for the ride...

This hike up Todd Mountain was like that for a number of reasons.  It punches above its weight.  The distance was around 7 miles and the gain was about 1,400 feet. So...not at all like we used to climb, but a step in the right direction.  One way you know it wasn't quite as tough as those days is because we brought the dog.  Plenty of people do take canines on the 4,000 footers but I think we may always be concerned about injury.  This mountain was good for her.  So, too would be many of the 52WAV's (which is realistically our next step).  After that, she can resent us when we get home.

View of the Deerfield River

One great perk about this hike is the drive before you get there.  We left home in Eastern Franklin County and ended up in the western part.  Here the road--MA Rt 2--climbs and dips through the Berkshires in a breathtakingly beautiful way. We parked outside the...er...park (the Mohawk Trail State Forest) and proceeded over a little bridge to the trailhead.  

The first section had the feel of a railroad bed--which of course it was at some point.  It was flat and broad, briefly following along the Cold (that's its name) River, eventually leaving it to follow the Deerfield River and then ducking into the woods for the steep climb. It was ​steep, too.  For rehabbing it was perfect.  All the climbing was in one sick bunch.

Flowers and dog on the ridge...

Eventually we hit the ridge for what was probably about the last mile. A sharp left turn took us on a more gradual incline festooned with rhododendrons.  There were a ton everywhere on this hike, actually. I always assume they are evidence of a more densely populated time.  The bushes are still popular around houses and in hedges.  My own house has a few.  They are also aggressive and hard to kill, so they travel about in the forest, landing wherever they can.  I was envious of this white flowered variety.  The ones at home--planted by a long-dead owner--are the more classic pink, which bloom for two lovely weeks and are then gone.

Anyway...the ridge...
We walked along for a while and encountered a number of other groups.  Some with unleashed dogs, which always drives me a bit crazy.  You never know as a dog parent what you will get when they encounter each other.  These were fine, though. They were old labs too tired to make a fuss and young labs too impressed with the old labs to get out of line.

​The views along the ridge were...just OK.  The trees had grown up and--as is common on a short mountain--there had been no great tragedy (fire, cutting, or die-off)  to improve the view.  However, the flowers were lovely and we continued on over the top to the one clear view on a ledge below the peak.  It was also fine.

Pines were planted here during the Great Depression and are still hanging on

The sign says "Red Pine Plantation"

But this is rehab, right? We got outdoors.  The forest was fabulous.  The foliage was spectacular and it was better than pretty much anything else we could do that day. 

We took a slightly different route down.  It followed the Deerfield a bit more closely and took us through the remains of an old farmstead.  There we found an old re-forestation project and the graves of the original farmers.  "Owners" seems a strong word when we are in front of their graves and most of the farm, itself, has gone wild.

​John Wheeler was a veteran of the Revolutionary War 250 years ago.  He and his wife Susannah had a whole life in that spot by the river. Now they remain to remind us that  we live and build and pass on to the earth.  We hope in the unseen; that whatever our essence might be lives on in this world or the next. I bet the Wheeler's are still with us.  We just can't tease them out of the contributions of others.

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Wheeler's old walls...

​Anyway, it was a rehab hike.  I could see camping in the state forest.  It is lovely and there are other trails nearby. I could see visiting the Wheelers again.

​Todd Mountain? It was what we needed and I am grateful for its presence in yet another walk toward healing. If I never climb it again I will still be grateful, but I do not have plans to do so.

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