During our week in the
New England states we drove on, walked down, and great country roads and
trails. As you can see, this post is more about driving and walking then about
riding motorcycles but there are points of interest for the rider and riding
the roads was never really far from my mind.
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| Walkways at Bennington College are mown paths winding through lush meadows |
“Country Roads” by John
Denver or “Country Road” by James Taylor – take your pick; they are both great
songs and we had both of them bouncing around in our heads during our recent
trip to attend the graduation of our daughter-in-law from the Bennington
College Masters of Fine Arts program. Yes, we’re proud of her for the
accomplishment and we’re proud of our son for being the strong supporter and
caring husband he is; they are bringing a lot of joy.
We landed in Boston a
few days before the graduation with a loose plan to take in some of the New
England history and views. We had no real plan for that first day except that
we wanted to see some historic sites and maybe paddle around in the Swan Boats
at the Boston Public Gardens. Getting out of the airport in our rental car, a
white VW Beetle, and into the city was problematic with toll roads being a big
part of the route and a very small part of our previous experience. California
is moving in the toll road direction and I’ll have to discover how best to work
with them, especially on a motorcycle. We opted to pay cash at each toll
station and we’ll rethink that next time we are in a heavy toll area and
perhaps go to the electronic pay method. Once off the toll roads we cast about
looking for a way over to the city without paying tolls again spotting a church
spire and simply made our way toward it hoping for the Old North Church; nope.
We parked and walked by it anyway, the architecture was great everywhere we
looked, even some of the rundown areas are interesting. We saw a tall monument
rising above everything around and made for it on foot to find ourselves about
a mile away from where we parked and at the Bunker Hill Monument and one end of
the Freedom Trail.
I hustled over and moved
the car nearer to the monument park and to freshen up the “parking clock” in
case a parking enforcement type person was busy. We walked to the Old North
Church which took us by Old Ironsides. It was early evening and we found out
that most public places close up at five; plan accordingly. We saw the sites
from the outside and they were stirring; walking the Freedom Trail, and later
the next day the Battle Road, made me regret being such a passive history
student.
The plan for the
following day was to go up to Concord in New Hampshire and see some historic
sites and Walden Pond before dropping back down to The Inn at Crumpin Fox in Bernardston MA for the night to
give us a shorter hop over to Bennington VT to meet up with Ani. Yes I know,
hello poor history student. Fortunately the navigator and real brains of our
duo spotted Walden Pond and the historically significant Concord. We were right
on top of it and she saved us several hours of driving to disappointment. This
also gave us the time for two walks, one around Walden Pond, the other along
the Battle Road at the Minute Man National Historical Park.
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| Henry, Cindy, and me |
Walden Pond is a
beautiful place and is now an attraction and swimming and paddle boating
location during this time of year. The walk around the pond was great; spending
time at Henry David Thoreau’s cabin site, the re-creation of his cabin to take
an ussie photo with his statue, and even the gift shop – all of it was deeply
thought provoking and humbling to this wannabe writer.
James Taylor said it
very well in his Country Road, “I
guess my feet know where they want me to go, Walking on a country road.”
The Minute Man National
Historical Park information center provides a refresher course on the events
that rent the thin fabric holding the colonies to Britain. We took a short walk
along the Battle Road which the British soldiers took from Boston to Concord
and back. It is lined with the old rock walls built up as the colonists farmed
the land and removed rocks from the fields as they plowed. All along this
footpath are markers proclaiming acts of heroism during the battle, marked
homes of the farmer communities, and told of the cost on both sides of the
battle. The fact that no one ordered the first shot or who fired it hung in the
air as we considered what might have been our history if men of reason were
able to sit down and work out a fair way to have a representative government
and tax schedule tied to Britain. We could have walked the whole road back to
Boston, maybe someday we will.
Those roads we walked
are wonderful and worthy of a planned hike end to end on the Freedom Trail and
Battle Road and all around Walden Pond again with a dip in the water at the
end. And the list grows on…
What struck us as we
motored along the highways was that once we leave the cities and the metropolis
fades in the rearview mirror we are immediately on country roads and highways. In
Southern California we go from one city to another city or suburb and have to
travel traffic clogged many miles to find a country road that is, as often as
not, in a desert. We kept saying “it is so green” to each other. (Of course we need
only remember the winter they just came out from to know why it is so green)
The forest comes right down to the right-of-way on the four lane highways, so
thick that the trees obscure the towns the highway passes by. We preferred the
two-lane, numbered roads that the highways closely paralleled; the forest comes
right down to the shoulder and thins only as we approached the towns – first
with hidden driveways, followed by a trip down Main Street with old town
buildings, churches with spires and old graveyards marked with flags for the
veterans of all our wars, barns and out buildings, old town stores. We made
plenty of quick stops and passed others that we wished we could make; we could
have taken many days along our route making stops to take in the history and the
feel of the communities we drove through. The vista at Hogback Mountain boasts
a hundred-mile panorama and looks into another state with views of two national
forests. It is breathtaking, to use an old cliché for an old place.
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| 180 degree + panorama shot from Hogback Mtn. |
One thing that struck me
as we wound our way from place to place was what great roads they are for
riding, horses or bikes, motored or peddled. I didn’t regret the time spent in
the cage, it was one of those nice road trips with my wife that allowed us to
talk or simply enjoy the road and views in a comfortable silence. We never once
turned on the radio of the rental. It was hot and humid as we drove along and we
spent a few miles driving through downpours so be ready for both when riding in
New England in the summer, all that green takes a lot of water. I put down the
window for long stretches and gave the bike salute as they rode by; I hope that
wasn’t a sacrilege to send off the greeting from inside. We spent a day after
the graduation at Lake George, NY, a huge lake by our standards, 35 miles long
and seven or so wide. We had lunch on the second story deck of a restaurant
overlooking the main drag of Lake George Town, across from a park, and with a
view of the lake. It was a cruiser street and we watched as loads of bikers,
classic car enthusiasts, and hotrod hound dogs cruised by.
These country road photos won't do the drive justice but you'll get the idea:
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| One of many covered bridges |
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| Old Indian sign at the Natural Stone Bridge Park |
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| View from the bug |
