The flat surface and gentle gradients of old railroad beds make wonderful bike trails when paved or resurfaced with gravel or stone dust. (Tim Jones photo)

At one time, the social and commercial fabric of the Northeast was stitched together by railroads. Today, of course, the stitching is done by highways and phone and internet connections, but in many places, the remnants of that rail system still exist in the form of the thousands of miles of rail beds that were built to last.

Some of these long-abandoned and often-neglected rail beds are finding a new and lofty purpose: recreational resources getting people outdoors and exercising. In the winter, these rail trails, often packed and maintained by snowmobilers, are enjoyed by cross-country skiers and dog sledders. In the spring, summer and fall, walkers, joggers, and bicyclists take over. Paved trails are used by skaters and skateboarders. Everyone has a good time.

Rail beds make perfect recreation trails. They are normally high and dry and well drained so they don’t usually get muddy in the spring or after a prolonged rain. They also tend to climb any hills on the route in long, slow gradients rather than steep pitches, which makes it easier for both walkers and bikers.

There are quite a number of rail trails scattered throughout the Northeast, and even more in the planning stages. On some, all you have is a short section, usually in or near a city, that has been rescued from oblivion. But quite a few trails offer a longer ride.

My sweetheart Marilyn and I are enthusiastic pedalers of rail trails. It’s one of the reasons why we chose a fat-tire tandem bike instead of a sleeker, faster road-bike model. The fatter tires on our Burley “Samba” (alas, no longer made) roll easily over gravel, stone dust and cinder trail surfaces.

We haven’t ridden every rail trail in the  region. Not even close. But we have ridden some of the more famous ones like the 22-mile Cape Cod Rail Trail,  the granddaddy of all Eastern rail rides, which has been completely refurbished in recent years. This was part of our route as we biked Cape Cod end-to-end in 2010. We’ve also ridden a number of less-well-known trails. Here’s a rail-trail sampler to show you how much fun you can have on these great recreational resources.

Airline Rail Trail 

This exuberant little waterfall along Connecticut’s Air Line Rail Trail sang a soothing melody to anyone who bothered to stop and listen. (Tim Jones photo)

Some time ago, an unavoidable business obligation took Marilyn and me to a crowded, noisy, smokey place that we normally wouldn’t go anywhere near. On the way home, we got in a stress-reducing, sanity-saving hour or two of pedaling on the Air Line Rail Trail in East Hampton, Connecticut, a few minutes southeast of the junction of Interstates 84 and 91 in Hartford. This trail will eventually stretch more than 50 miles to the Massachusetts border where it will join with the Southern New England Trunkline Trail, but, for now, only the southern section, 22.7 miles long, from East Hampton to Windham offers an unbroken ride.

It was a cool and breezy spring afternoon, perfect for leisurely riding. Unfortunately, we’d gotten a much later start than hoped, and we could comfortably explore only the first few miles of the trail. That’s OK; what we saw was beautiful, and left us eager to go back and see more.

Even a crowded state like Connecticut has its quiet, unspoiled corners. This is one of them. The few miles of trail we rode had a whole day’s worth of scenery. In places the trail rose high above the countryside, giving expansive views of woodlands and wetlands. In other places, it cut deep into hillsides where flowing springs tumbled in miniature waterfalls. We rode through quiet woodlands, along streams, and by ponds where people were fishing and photographing the birds.

On our ride, we left behind the stresses of work, had fun, renewed ourselves in a beautiful place. What more could you ask for? All it took was a willingness to get on a bike and pedal.

Aroostook Recreation Trails

The rail trails in Aroostook County are true multi-use recreation paths, used by snowmobilers and cross-country skiers in winter, bikers and ATVs the rest of the year. (Tim Jones photo)

Known sometimes at “The Crown of Maine,” or, more simply as “The County,” Aroostook County, is located in the upper right-hand corner not only of the State of Maine, but also of the entire U. S. of A. Next stop, Canada. It’s the largest county in land area east of the Mississippi, covering 6,829 square miles. Less than 75,000 people live there. That leaves a lot of empty space to play outdoors.

Winter in Aroostook Country is the big tourist season. Snowmobilers come from all over, drawn by deep snow and immaculately groomed trails. But, those trails don’t disappear when the snow melts. About 80 miles of them are the old rail beds of the Bangor and Aroostook and Aroostook Valley Railway lines with easy gradients and hard gravel surfaces, perfect for riding a fat-tire bike.

We based our trip out of Caribou, which has lots of inexpensive motels and a couple of great restaurants (Try the Osso Bucco at Napoli’s which is under new ownership, and the Scallops Frangelico at the Greenhouse in the Caribou Inn).

Our ride started in Caribou, and headed toward Washburn for a few miles before turning sharp right and heading toward New Sweden, which has some of the best biking views ever. These trails apparently get lots of traffic from motorized ATVs on the weekends, but the few four-wheelers we saw were no problem at all. There are no sharp corners so everyone can see what’s coming and everyone shares the trail nicely.

Sections of the trail are re-graded every three or four years, so some are rougher than others. Marilyn and I were riding our fat-tire tandem; on most of the trail we flew along comfortably, but in other places a suspension (or suspension seatpost) to cushion some of the bumps would have made the ride more comfortable. In some places we rode through virtual tunnels of spruce trees, in others we could see for miles across rolling country, and still other places crossed wetlands with active beaver workings on both sides of the trail. All of it was beautiful, especially with the last of Autumn’s colors still flaming.

In the town of New Sweden we stopped to refuel at a great little store a half-mile off the end of the trail, then pedaled a short road section (not a single car passed us!) to pick up another fork of the trail that brought us back toward Caribou to the car. In all we covered about 25 miles—less than a third of what’s available.

If you are ever exploring “The County” when there’s no snow, be sure to bring your mountain bike!

Ashuwillticook Rail Trail 

The Berkshires rise gently over the flat Ashuwillticook Rail Trail. (Tim Jones photo)

While exploring the biking in the beautiful Berkshires, we discovered the Ashuwillticook Rail Trail which runs 11.2 miles from the Lanesborough/Pittsfield town line through Cheshire and into the center of Adams. Though the trail parallels busy Route 8, you see very little of the highway. The views, instead are of Berkshire Pond, Mount Greylock and a dozen other hills, the Cheshire Reservoir and the Hoosic River.

This is one of the nicest bike paths we have ever had the pleasure to ride. The only thing it lacked was other riders. Marilyn and I were staying at nearby Jiminy Peak and got up early two mornings to ride the entire trail as a warm-up for a long day of biking. Flat, fast and scenic (especially early in the morning), and with very few road crossings, this is the perfect before-breakfast bike ride on a summer morning.

While chatting with local bikers, we heard rumors that the Ashuwillticook Rail Trail may eventually be extended from Pittsfield all the way to Williamstown, which would let it rival the Cape Cod Rail Trail as one of the truly great recreation paths in all of New England.

As it is now, it’s still well worth the ride. If you’re ever in the area, be sure to check it out.

Cape Cod Rail Trail

This handsome Eastern Box Turtle (a threatened species) shared the Cape Cod Rail Trail with us on a rainy June morning. (Tim Jones photo)

The first Rail Trail I ever encountered  and the one I’ve ridden most is the fully paved, 22-mile Cape Cod Rail Trail that stretches from Dennis to Wellfleet, Mass. It got me hooked the first time I rode it and I’ve ridden it dozens of times since. Every chance I get, as a matter of fact. . . .

The western end of the trail is the most enjoyable for a casual, leisurely ride, maybe combined with a swim on a warm day. This section runs from Route 134 in Dennis (there’s a large parking area just south of exit 9 off the Mid-Cape Highway) into Brewster. Here, the trail winds over easy hills, through shaded woodlands, past cranberry bogs, ponds with beaches and to the Pleasant Lake General Store in Harwich.

The central third (from the Pleasant Lake General Store to Salt Pond Road) used to have a fair amount of roadside riding but much of that has vanished with the addition of a new bridge over Route 6 in Orleans (which reduced the trail’s length from 26 to 22 miles, but improved the quality of the experience). Nickerson State Park, the half-way point of the Rail Trail, boasts both beaches and campsites. Orleans is a convenient turn-around point from either end of the trail with shops, galleries, restaurants and harbor view–the perfect place to take a break.  Carry a bike lock and a backpack so you can fully enjoy it!

The eastern third, from Salt Pond Road in Eastham to Le Count Hollow Road in Wellfleet, is straight, flat, and fast, but not particularly scenic. It’s a good place to work up your heart rate. Side trips, to the Visitors Center at the Cape Cod National Seashore and Coast Guard Beach, to Nauset Light or to Marconi Wireless Station, where instantaneous global radio communications began on January 18, 1903, make this section more interesting.

The Cape Cod Rail Trail is free. You can get a trail map or rent a bike from Idle Times Bike Shop , with rental outlets in Eastham, Orleans and Wellfleet.

Island Line Rail Trail

You can ride your bike across Lake Champlain on the Island Line Trail. (Tim Jones photo)

Up in northwestern Vermont, the spectacular 12-mile Island Line Trail actually crosses a portion of Lake Champlain between Burlington and South Hero. You’ve never ridden anything quite like it. We’ve now ridden on this amazing trail three times, once on solo bikes and twice on our tandem. We can’t wait for a fourth time! Sadly, the trail was badly damaged by floods in the spring of 2011, and, as this was written in the summer of 2011, fund raising and volunteer efforts were underway to get the trail repaired. Check with Local Motion for updates on the trail’s recovery

The first time we rode the trail,  Marilyn and I were in Burlington researching a travel story and, as usual, we were looking to take advantage of all the wonderful outdoor opportunities that city has to offer. But, according to the weather prognosticators, we were in for the hottest two days in several years with increasing humidity each day.

Fortunately, we were based at the Burlington Hilton, just a short stroll from Burlington’s busy waterfront. So stroll we did—very slowly—down to Local Motion, a non-profit group which promotes bike trails in the area and rents top-quality hybrid cruiser bikes. We rented our bikes there and then walked them (slowly) back through the blazing inferno to the hotel and put them in storage. (Local Motion doesn’t open until ten o’clock in the morning, so you have to plan ahead for an early morning ride in the summer heat.)

The next morning we were up before the sun, snacked lightly, drank lots of water, and headed out. In the gray early light filtered by the rising mists, the temperature was in the 60s, and a breeze was blowing from the cooler waters of the lake. It felt like Heaven compared to the Hell of the previous afternoon.

There are lots of bike paths around Burlington and in the Champlain Valley. But the jewel in the crown is the Island Line Trail, a rails to trails project that spans 12.5 miles of mostly-level riding along the lake. With the rising sun slowly burning off the morning clouds, and the air still cool, the Island Line Trail was just magical. For the first hour, we had the path completely to ourselves as we pedaled north, out of Burlington toward the Champlain Islands, a great place for pedaling and paddling.

At just under the 10-mile marker, (we started at Mile Two), the trail suddenly bursts from the woods and follows the old rail line out on a man-made causeway dividing Malletts Bay from the main body of Lake Champlain. The rail line was built on a bed of huge blocks of marble dumped onto the lake bed and filled in with gravel. Flat and gently curving, it makes a perfect bike trail for a hybrid or mountain bike.

We rode out onto this incredibly beautiful stretch of path just as the sun finally began burning through the last of the morning haze, but the breeze off the water kept things comfortably cool. We rode on to the 12.5-mile mark, where a drawbridge has been removed, preventing you from continuing on to South Hero. In the summer, at least on weekends, there’s  a ferry to take bicycles across this gap, but it doesn’t run at 6:30 in the morning.

As we rode back toward Burlington, the sun began to increase in strength, and the trail became busier with walkers, joggers and other cyclists. By the time we got back to the hotel, it was a hot summer day. We showered, strolled out for breakfast at Penny Cluse Café, and got on with the day’s “work”.

Since then, we’ve been back twice and enjoyed every mile of the trail on our tandem. This is one of the great rail trail experiences.

Missisquoi Valley Rail Trail

Farming is still a part of everyday life along the Missisquoi Valley Rail Trail. (Tim Jones photo)

Historic St. Albans, Vermont (believe it or not, the site of a Civil War Confederate raid!) is the start of the Missisquoi Valley Rail Trail . From there it winds its way 26.4 miles northeast to the town of Richford, Vermont, right on the Canadian border.

Marilyn’s favorite outdoor pastime spring, summer and fall is riding our fat-tire tandem bike, and there’s no place she’d rather ride than on a rail trail. The Missisquoi Rail Trail is a beauty with a smooth, packed gravel surface and easy grades. It runs mostly through stunningly bucolic Vermont countryside with farm fields and pastures, occasionally small towns. Enosburg Falls at mile 16.5 is a perfect spot to stop for lunch. If your pedaling partner doesn’t happen to be a nutrition counselor who is concerned about your cholesterol numbers, there’s a wonderful spot for soft-serve ice cream cones (they call them “creemies” in Vermont) a few miles beyond Enosburg Falls. Unfortunately we had other stops to make. Sigh.

That last third of the trip has Jay Peak looming in your sights as you pedal beside the Missisquoi River. You can watch it get closer with each turn of the pedals.

Eventually, the Missisquoi Valley Rail Trail will be extended to the nearby Canadian Border, where it will connect with Quebec’s Route Verte—an extensive network of bicycle paths and bike lanes that crisscrosses the entire Province. There are also plans in the works to build the connecting Lamoille Valley Rail Trail, which will run 92 miles from Swanton to St. Johnsbury. The Vermont Association of Snow Travelers (VAST), a statewide snowmobile club is spearheading this effort. Hooray for them!

Even without those additional enticements, the Missisquoi Rail Trail is worth visiting. If 53 miles is too much for you to ride in a day, take a couple of days, stay somewhere on Lake Champlain—there are quiet B&B’s, inexpensive motels and campgrounds all around here. Make an active vacation of it!

Northern Rail Trail 

This covered bridge is just a tiny part of the scenery that surprises you at every turn along the Northern Rail Trail. (Marilyn Donnelly photo)

The Northern Rail Trail (NRT) in Grafton and Merrimack Counties of New Hampshire is shaping up to be one of the best rail trail rides in all of New England. The stone-dust or gravel surface is firm, easy to pedal on (especially with a fat tire or cyclocross bike), and the scenery is beautiful. And, maybe someday, the two organizations which created this marvelous trail will be able to cooperate on a single website devoted to it . . .

This trail is particularly convenient to reach. If you are traveling on Interstate 91 in Vermont, or 93 in New Hampshire, you are only 15 minutes from a trail terminus, and access from I-89 is even faster. If your bike is on the car anyway, why not stop and ride for an hour or two?

I should note that Marilyn and I don’t particularly enjoy riding with a lot of road traffic. Though the NRT essentially parallels either Route 4 or Route 11 for its entire length, you don’t often see or even hear motor vehicles. Much of the time you are riding through quiet woods and fields, alongside beautiful flowing streams and placid ponds.

The northern end of the trail in Grafton County, was finished first. It runs 23 miles from downtown Lebanon through Enfield, Canaan, Orange and Grafton. Another 23 miles in Merrimack County have now been completed. This section runs through Danbury, Wilmot, and Andover to end (for the moment at least) in Franklin. Eventually, the trail will grow to 65 miles in length, continuing on to Boscawen and Concord; though in these days of tight money and endless budget fights, who knows when that will happen?

Marilyn and I have been riding short sections of the NRT when we were in the neighborhood on other business. I believe we’ve done most of it . . .

On one recent summer morning, we pulled into the parking area at Potter Place, right off the junction of Routes 4 and 11, and started pedaling east toward Franklin. We only had about an hour to ride and hoped we could get in 10 or 12 miles or so. Not a “big” ride, but fun nonetheless.

This section of trail is almost flat (most rail lines avoided hills as much as possible) and has a nicely packed gravel/stone dust surface. It runs along the Blackwater River, through pine and hardwood forests, skirting the edges of some beautiful wetlands. Gorgeous scenery for a summer morning.

We’d pedaled only about two miles before we came upon a lovely covered bridge we’d never seen before. At about the 6-mile mark we ran out of time and turned around at the Higland Lake Inn in East Andover which looks like it would make a perfect overnight stop for a weekend getaway along the trail.

On another memorable occasion we started on Riverside Drive in Lebanon in the shadow of I-89, pedaled out for an hour or so (12-13 miles at our normal pace) turned around and pedaled back. This section of the trail is flat—no hills at all–and the surface is mostly packed stone dust or gravel. It had been very rainy in the days before, but we only found a couple of wet spots.

Our ride took us past Mascoma Lake (wonderful views), through the tiny village of Enfield (potential lunch spot at the deli/market in the center of town), and out through the wilds of Canaan. The trail crosses lots of streams and rivers on nicely surfaced bridges (many heartfelt thanks to the snowmobile clubs that maintain them!). It’s just a perfect ride.

Someday soon, we’ll take two cars, make a real adventure of it and ride the whole NRT end-to-end in one day. But for now, these section rides out and back are a perfect break on a busy summer morning. For us, 46 miles of pedaling would make a good long day and this is one trail we are looking forward to doing end-to-end-to-end. Maybe we’ll see you there . . .

Finding Other Rail Trails

The Island Line Trail which starts on Burlington's waterfront is easy to find, others require more searching. (Tim Jones photo)

New England and New York are blessed with an abundance of old railroad beds, many of which are rideable on fat-tire bikes. The Rails to Trails Conservancy is the driving force behind much of this trail development, and they maintain the most complete free list I’ve found of Rail Trails in the Northeast and in most states across the country. Just go under “Find A Trail” and click on either a state or a region to find listings. There are 392 open trails in the northeast totaling over 3200 miles.

If you ride in New Hampshire, be sure to get a copy of Charles F. Martin’s book, New Hampshire Rail Trails, which gives the history of the rail lines along with useful info for today’s bikers. The website itself also has some useful links to other trail organizations.

In addition to the two trails profiled above, Massachusetts has  the 11-mile Nashua River Rail Trail, which  is completed and ready to ride. The 11-mile Norwottuck Rail Trail, in Northampton, Hadley, and Amherst is complete and will eventually anchor one end of the 104-mile Mass. Central Rail Trail leading all the way to Boston. There’s also one called the Southern New England Trunkline Trail a 20-mile trail runs between the Franklin and Douglas State Forests along the Rhode Island and Connecticut borders. Apparently, however, this trail can’t be ridden end to end as most bridges along the route are out or unsafe.

Up in Maine, there’s a whole slew of rail trails in the area just north and west of Bangor. The Lagrange to Medford trail is 11 miles long, the Newport to Dover-Foxcroft is 26 miles. This looks perfect for a multi-day getaway.  The Downeast Sunrise Trail runs from Washington Junction in Ellsworth to Ayers Junction just south of Calais.  And, Aroostook County has a number of rail trails.

If you know any good rail trails I’ve missed, email me and I’ll add them. The more people who ride these trails, the more trails we’ll have to enjoy in the future.

Since new trails are always in development, the list is never complete. If you really want to explore, check out these historic topographical maps—which lists then-active railroads. Some of these old roadbeds are just waiting for the crunch of your boot soles or bike treads.

Trail Etiquette

Everyone's welcome on rail trails. Bikers and joggers must safely share the trails which means everyone must be aware of where they are and what's ahead and behind. (Tim Jones photo)

On the more popular rail trails, people are moving at different speeds as they walk, skate or bike, so people are always passing each other. Since there typically isn’t any motorized traffic, you can sometimes be lulled into a false sense of security and get careless. When people get careless, accidents happen.

Here are some thoughts for safety.

1) Be aware of your surroundings and alert for anyone moving faster than you are.

2) Pedestrians and cyclists alike should follow the rules of the road, with cyclists riding on the right and pedestrians walking facing on-coming traffic. The center of the trail should be treated as a “passing lane” not a travel lane.

3) Cyclists passing pedestrians should communicate their intentions well ahead of time (especially if the pedestrians are walking with their backs to you) and slow down until they are sure the walkers know they are there.  Get one of those little handlebar bells; it’s a friendly way to let people know that you’re behind them and about to pass.  Having a mirror on your bike is a good idea, too, so YOU know if someone is about to pass you.

4) Don’t wear headphones, especially when walking or running or cycling. Listening to music, you’re cutting yourself off from voice communication. Not only are you missing bird calls and the natural sounds of wind and water, you are also putting yourself and the people around you at greater risk. Think about it.

Some popular rail trails can get very crowded on weekends in good weather, with everyone from tiny tots in backpacks to active seniors all out enjoying a little fresh air and exercise. If everyone is courteous and aware of others using the path, and keeps to their own side of the trail, the mix of uses works just fine.

Fellow hikers! Peggy Knox (seated), Dawn Towle and columnist Tim Jones pass other hikers on the Appalachian Trail in Connecticut on their recent hike. Peggy had thought she’d never get into the woods again! (Marilyn Donnelly photo)

Last January, I received a long email from Peggy Knox, who reads my “Active Outdoors” column in the Waterbury (Connecticut) Republican-American. Her email  said, in part:

“I am disabled and the kind of trips you talk about are completely out of the question for me. I’d give anything to be able to walk in the woods, but there is no more walking in the woods or any place else, as my ability to walk was taken from me by arthritis. Your column meant so much to me because there will never be an opportunity to go into the woods any more. Please continue to write about your adventures, so I can have the ‘experience’ of being in the woods once again.”

Well, anyone who reads my columns knows I strongly believe that Active Outdoors adventures are NOT “completely out of the question” for anyone. I’ve been bicycling with blind people (one an 88-year old WWII veteran and Active Senior).  I’ve also been skiing and biking (in the same day no less) with a couple of quadriplegics who kicked my butt.  So I wrote back asking Peggy if she was willing to change her thinking and see what was possible. She said yes, and we started planning.

“Possible” doesn’t mean “easy.”

Beauitful day, beautiful place! Marilyn Donnelly, Dawn Towle and Peggy Knox (seated) enjoying a hike on the Appalachian Trail in Connecticut with the Housatonic River keeping them company. Tim Jones photo)

Peggy isn’t a wheelchair athlete. She normally relies entirely on a power wheelchair, unstable on uneven ground. So she would have to use a traditional chair pushed by her Personal Care Aid, Dawn Towle (who was a cheerfully good sport about this off-the-wall adventure. Thanks, Dawn!).  Marilyn and I would provide additional horsepower when asked.

Peggy also has life-threatening allergies, which meant she couldn’t be out in the spring or summer without a respirator. So we chose October, an absolutely lovely time of year to be hiking in Connecticut.

The plan was to do the wheelchair accessible section of the Appalachian Trail in Falls Village. We hoped to be able to do as much as a mile of hiking. Mother Nature, however, had other plans. Torrential rains in preceding days left the ground soggy, the trail had eroded in places and high winds had brought down trees—including one across a bridge on the Accessible section of the trail. So we went looking for another place to hike.

Having fished the Housatonic River in this neighborhood, I remembered a short section where the AT follows an old gravel road along the river. We went looking, asked directions, eventually found it. Peggy got herself out of the car and into her chair and off we went.

It wasn’t easy. The road was rough in spots and Peggy’s chair (not designed for all-terrain use) seemed to find and stick in every little depression. Dawn pushed, I pushed as needed and we were soon out of sight of the paved road and parked cars.  Peggy was surrounded by woods again!

How far did we go? Far enough. This was an adventure measured in smiles, not miles. We all have to start wherever we are, go to where we can.

Read her story  below and see if you think  Peggy will ever forget her reintroduction to the Active Outdoors lifestyle. I know Marilyn and I won’t. I hope Peggy continues to think outside thoughts and continues to explore new ways to get more active now that she knows it’s possible. . Life isn’t a spectator sport. Get out and enjoy!

Exploring the possible. Dawn Towle (pushing) and Peggy Knox (seated) negotiate a section of the Appalachian Trail. This section is not designated “wheelchair accessible” but it was . . .(Tim Jones photo)

Making the Impossible Possible

By Peggy J. Knox

A couple of years ago, I began to read Tim Jones’ weekly Active Outdoors column  in the Waterbury [CT] Republican-American.  I had avoided Tim’s column, because I thought getting “Active Outdoors” even to just take a walk was no longer possible for me; I’ve been in a wheelchair since 1998.

Tim’s column took me back to when I would walk in the woods with my father,  a farmer who knew the folk names of plants. I  especially remembered our walks in November and December, when we would pull up running pine vines to make wreaths to sell so our family could have Christmas.

As I became more and more disabled from arthritis, the memories, although painful at times, meant even more.  Tim’s writing would make the outdoors seem very real, as if I were there myself.  Sometimes I cried for what was and for what could never be again.

This past winter, I wrote Tim telling him how much his column meant, about my time in the woods with my father, and how it was all just a memory now, because of the wheelchair.  Tim’s response stunned me:  Could he and his sweetheart, Marilyn, take me for a walk in the woods?  They could work around the wheelchair.  In fact, there is a wheelchair accessible trail in Falls Village, CT that was part of the Appalachian Trail and Tim wanted to explore it with me.  My response:  “Yes!”

Sunday, October 3rd, 2010 would be the day.  More than a few of my friends questioned if it was such a good idea in general. Others questioned this particular  weekend, because we had had several days of downpours and winds during the week that certainly would have an impact on how accessible the trail would be.  I’d also had had two falls in the past six months that accelerated my inability to do even the simple tasks we all do every day.  As far as I was concerned,  nothing would get in my way.  The night before, I was so excited, I couldn’t sleep.  I was the little kid on Christmas Eve who was sure she’d never be able to sleep, because Santa Claus was coming.  I didn’t sleep most of the night., but finally did just before dawn.  I didn’t wake up until 11:30 am and we had to be on the road by 12:30 if my personal care assistant, Dawn Towle, and I were going to meet Tim  and Marilyn in Falls Village by 1:30.

From the notes I kept  that day, you get a sense of my excitement:  “Why did I tell Dawn to come at 12:30?  Thank goodness she’s early!   Where are my sunglasses?  Respirator mask? Sweater?  Better grab my fleece jacket just in case!  Did I pack everything–water, snack, meds, a couple of grocery bags in case I see something I want to take home with me?  Don’t forget my lap quilt! Let’s get out of here! ”

Dawn, who remained calm during my anxious craziness,  finally had me on the ramp that leads from my apartment.   I took in a deep  breath.  It’s really going to happen!  I apologized to Dawn for barking out orders to her.  She told me it was ok.    I said “We are really going to do this.   Can you feel the magic?”  Dawn just laughed.   For the first time in over thirty years,  forty really, I am going for a walk in the woods!

As we drove  to Falls Village, my excitement mounted.  When we got to the Historical Society at 1:41, no one was there.  Did they leave when they didn’t see us there?  However, within three minutes of our arrival, Tim and Marilyn arrived  with some bad news; the accessible trail was temporarily inaccessible, but he knew of someplace else we could try.  However, that place wasn’t a go either.  So we stopped at Clark’s Outdoor Shop on Route 7 in the Housatonic Meadows State Forest.  Tim came out, and said there was a spot nearby, actually under Cornwall Bridge.  Strange–it never occurred to me that we wouldn’t find a trail we could use.  Going under the bridge, past St. Bridget’s Roman Catholic Church, and down a narrow road, and just a little past a farmhouse with a wire sculpture of a whale’s back tail, the road ended and we were at the beginning of a trail leading into the woods.

Tim scouted ahead and came back with,  “It’s a go!”   Before we left my home, I made sure, if it got too rough for Dawn to push my chair, that she would ask for help.  Although he didn’t know I had had that conversation with Dawn before we even left my house, Tim said the same thing to her as she was helping me from the car into my wheelchair.

When I  saw the path, I  knew it wasn’t going to be the walk in the park Tim hoped it would be.  What is flat to people walking is not flat to wheelchair users.  I felt confident, though, that with Dawn, Tim , and Marilyn that things would be handled safely.  As soon as we entered the trail, my excitement and sense of wonder took over.  The Housatonic River was high and muddy,  with white caps where it flowed over rocks.  It actually sounded angry.

Peggy found everything around her exciting and interesting on our hike along the AT next to the Housatonic River in Connecticut. (Marilyn Donnelly photo)

Even though the calendar said October, the weather had been very warm with a lot more  green showing in the leaves than color.  There were still a lot of wildflowers blooming along the path.  I had spotted a different kind of flower in full bloom, and mentioned it to the others.  At first I  thought it might be a bachelor button, but that didn’t seem possible in the woods;  Marilyn identified it a wild specimen.  There were a lot of ferns, and dark moss growing on rock.  Some of the rocks were huge, and one could see where the ice and water split them, yet the rock remained firmly attached above ground and who knows how far underground it went? The hillside  off the path reminded me of the woods behind our house  where we lived when I was growing up.   I kept stopping to taking a deep breath.  I don’t think I stopped smiling all the time we were in there.   In the meantime, Tim, who had taken over most of the pushing, kept saying my wheelchair had a mind of it’s own.  He dodged holes and stones going  from one side of the trail to another, being careful not to get too close to the river bank.  He was learning a very important lesson–level and easy had a whole different meaning when pushing a wheelchair.

Farther along the path we came to a short, steep, hill where the path was eroded.  I looked at Tim and said,  “I don’t think so.”   Tim started to apologize for not being able to go further, but I interrupted him.  It may have only been a few steps  as far as he was concerned; it was deep woods for me.  It had been forty years since I had been that far, and I said “Don’t forget!  I even thought this was impossible.  It is terrific! ”

I did choose a few things for my bag to take home:  a pine cone; the bachelor button; some of the wildflowers; a fern; and some barberries that Tim said had probably grown from seeds birds had deposited there.  Tim pointed out the number of different species of trees in a small area, while I thought of Joyce Kilmer’s words,  “I think I shall never see, a poem lovely as a tree…”

As we made our way back, my passionate historian came out.  I spotted a remnant of an old stone wall.  Nearby, we found three stone foundations from what had to have been an eighteenth or nineteenth century farmstead.  I kept musing out loud, “I wonder what the people who lived here looked like?    I wonder what their every day life was like?” And to myself, “I wonder what happened to only have the foundations of the farm buildings left?”

When we got back to the car, Tim said there was another place he wanted to check out.  I agreed to try, but only after we found a bathroom I could get into (we did).  At another spot we parked while Tim did the scouting once again.   He came back, and said that, after his lesson about the difference between flat for people who walk on their own two feet, and flat for people in wheelchairs, he decided that it wasn‘t feasible.  Once again he apologized.  And once again, I told him he had nothing to apologize for–he promised a walk in the woods and that’s what we had done.  There is no way he could know just how much the day meant to me.

Tim always writes ” Life isn’t a spectator sport. Get outdoors and enjoy!”  During our ride home, I asked Dawn if she had enjoyed the afternoon.  She told me she really did, and then added if she hadn’t had to accompany me, she wouldn’t have thought about going outside. There was housework, and laundry that needed doing. Our trip let her rethink doing all work and no play.  I do hope there will be another opportunity to spend time with Tim and his sweetheart in the outdoors, but if not with them, I plan to find others who might be willing to help me into the woods or meadows, or to a picnic area as I make new memories to add to those days in the woods with Daddy; all thanks to Marilyn and Tim who were willing to give it a chance!

A couple of weeks later . . .

An old stone foundation became a photo opportunity as we hiked along a section of the AT. (Marilyn Donnelly photo)

I received this note from Peggy:

“A friend and I spend 2 hours a month together to do whatever I want. I’m hoping to  get out with her and Dawn tomorrow or  Monday for a walk on one of the bike trails that are springing up around here. There’s one between Torrington and Winsted . . .”

That sounds a little different than the woman who initially said she would never be able to enjoy the outdoors again, doesn’t it? The funny thing is, Marilyn and I had a wonderful time hiking with Peggy. Her joy was infectious, and, as much as we already enjoy hiking, we enjoyed it even more on this trek.

A Challenge

Can you picture yourself here? Peggy Knox thought she'd never be surrounded by woods again . . . (Marilyn Donnelly photo)

OK, this trek gave me a new appreciation for the particular difficulties of wheelchair hiking, especially with someone who had essentially “given up” on the idea of ever being active outdoors. We didn’t have the right equipment or ideal circumstances, but we managed to do it anyway, and thereby proved not only that it could be done, but also that it was worth doing!

So I’m throwing down the gauntlet here. Peggy changed her way of thinking, had a wonderful day outdoors and appears to ready to do it again using her own resources. What she thought wasn’t possible, was.  In her case, all it took was a little creative thinking and flexibility on her part, and a couple of people willing to push. Of course, it helped that her goal was as simple as a walk in the woods.

If you live here in the northeast and have any kind of disability or even multiple disabilities, whether it’s an illness, injury, age-related infirmity, whatever,  that’s keeping you from being active outdoors, send me an email at timjones@easternslopes.com and let’s talk about it.

I’m not guaranteeing anything—no doubt there are some problems that are just too great to overcome. But, frankly, I haven’t seen one yet. Once someone decides they want to try, they usually succeed. If you’ve been out with  blind bike riders, and quadriplegic skiers and cyclists, you begin to get the sense that almost anything is possible.

Chances are, if we put our minds to it, we can find some way to get you enjoying the outdoors again. I’m willing to try if you are!

More Connecticut Hiking

This section of the AT in Connecticut was perfect for a rainy-day hike. (Tim Jones photo)

Even if you aren’t challenged in any way, northwestern Connecticut is simply a wonderful place to be active outdoors in the fall. 

This is a beautiful corner of the state, especially in October; weekends are busy so plan ahead or go mid-week.

Accordingly, Marilyn and I planned a getaway to the Litchfield Hills. We stayed at the Mountain View Inn, a Victorian delight in Norfolk. The hosts, Dean and Jean Marie Johnson and son Chris and miniature poodle Nicole are about as welcoming as it’s possible to be, and you can feel your stress draining away the instant you walk in the door. By the way, there’s a superb restaurant/music venue, the Infinity Bistro just a short stroll away. Trust me when I tell you the food and service were superb. I doubt you could get a better meal in New York City for three times the price. We ate there on Sunday night, were disappointed that they were closed on Sunday (though we found Mizza’s Pizza down the road, which had simply wonderful Italian entrees.)

The next day it was raining off and on, but Marilyn and I decided to go back to the same section and hike some of what we couldn’t reach the day before. For us, used to hiking in the White and Green Mountains, this section of the trail seemed easy, flat and fast, and we covered many miles in no time. At one point we surprised a pair of young deer bedded in the middle of a hayfield. We smiled as we watched them bound off, tails flying.

There were other hikes and walks all around us—including many more miles on the AT than we did. 

We could easily have spent a week exploring just the wonderful walking/hiking options here.

Coincidentally, just as I was leaving for this trip, I received an email from a reader who was hiking all 53.7 miles of the AT in Connecticut, staying at inns along the way.  Sounds like fun, stay tuned for more details.

This part of Connecticut also has state parks and state forests galore, so allow yourself plenty of time to explore.

Perfect weather brings crowds to many ponds and lakes in the northeast. But this flood control reservoir was quiet and beautiful on Labor Day weekend..

What’s a perfect place to paddle a kayak for you? It seems to me that you are either a people person or you aren’t. I’m mostly not.

Some folks love to paddle along settled shorelines. That has it’s appeal, I suppose. But I prefer seeing trees, not lawns and houses, wildlife, not people. And I especially like places with little or no motorboat traffic.

I’m not talking about big adventures. I’d love to paddle a kayak along the coast of Labrador or Greenland, but that’s only a dream. I’m talking about places where you can paddle in the evening after work or on a sunny weekend morning before you have to run errands

My sweetheart Marilyn, who has only recently discovered the joys of paddling also prefers secluded. But secluded is sometimes hard to find. We can’t drive many hours every time we want to enjoy a quiet hour or two of paddling.

Fortunately we’ve discovered quiet places close to our home on  flood control lakes maintained by the Army Corps of Engineers. Here in New England, most of our towns and cities grew up along the banks of rivers. Rivers are subject to flooding and many towns were regularly inundated until the Corps of Engineers built flood control dams.

Controlling  floods requires space to temporarily store water. In the typical flood-control project there’s a BIG dam holding back a small pond or lake. Since the surrounding land is periodically flooded, it can’t be developed–which creates some of the most beautiful, unspoiled shorelines you can imagine.

Moreover, most Corps projects actively manage habitat for wildlife—which makes them ideal places for birding and wildlife viewing from a kayak spring and summer, and fall.

On a perfect late-summer Sunday this past Labor Day Weekend, with the air crisp and the sky a bright blue, Marilyn and I launched our boats on a flood control pond not far from our home. The morning mist was still hanging heavily in the air and the only other people around were a few bass fishermen probing the lilly pads for largemouths. We could hear them talking quietly long before we could see them through the mists.

This particular impoundment has five permanent ponds, interconnected by marshes and flat stretches of river that wind beneath a canopy of tree limbs. Once we got away from the voices of the anglers on the ponds and into the narrow, shallow channel of the old river, we might as well been a thousand miles from the nearest person.

At one point Marilyn rounded a  tree that had recently fallen over with its top in the water. There were leaves still on the branches, and they must have hidden her approach, because she startled a Great Blue Heron that was no more than 30 feet away when it flapped into the air. A little while later we saw a flock of ducks pass overhead at tree-top height. On previous paddles we’ve seen beavers, otters and muskrats in the water and I once watched a fox hunting along the shore. You don’t usually get up close and personal with wildlife on more developed ponds.

The best way to find Corps projects to paddle  is to visit the website at www.nae.usace.army.mil where all the sites are listed in detail. Some have permanent ponds, others are flooded only after heavy rains. Paddling among the treetops is a special treat. If there’s a flood control project anywhere near you, I can almost guarantee it’ll be worth exploring in a kayak. Life isn’t a spectator sport. Get out and enjoy!

PADDLING ON THE DRINK

Another great resource for ponds with undeveloped shorelines is public water supply reservoirs. Some, like the huge Quabbin reservoir in central Massachusetts are strictly off limits to boaters of all sorts.

Others, such as lovely Massabesic Lake, the water supply for  Manchester NH, allow canoeing and kayaking. Massabesic’s regulations allow paddlesports but prohibit windsurfing and other sports which “makes extensive bodily contact with the water unavoidable.”

The same regulations that prohibit swimming and such on public water supplies also protect the shorelines from development. The shorelines of these ponds are often pristine and beautiful.

MARSH MADNESS

The third resource for pristine paddling are marshes and other wetlands. Very often these have winding channels and small ponds which are too small or too shallow for bigger boats but are  perfect for exploring by kayak.  Look on the map for anything marked as a marsh near your home—chances are some great paddling awaits.

First time ever! A newcomer to paddling, Marilyn Donnelly tries out a wide, stable Pungo 120 from Wilderness Systems on the ocean in Harpswell, Maine. She loved it.

I grew up paddling canoes, but the very first time I ever plunked my boney butt in a kayak and started paddling was on the ocean. I was on a “packaged” exploration of the Maine Island Trail in Penobscot Bay with H2Outfitters. For three days and four nights we paddled from island to island, camping at night with no one else around, exploring during the day, eating splendid meals cooked out on the beach, seeing seabirds, seals, porpoises, eagles, and jellyfish up close and personal.

No wonder I immediately decided that seakayaking was a pastime I enjoyed . . .  Since then I’ve paddle on the ocean whenever I’ve gotten the opportunity.

Then I got serious and horsetraded some stuff I no longer used for a couple of used seakayaks, a 14-foot Perception Corona and a big, sleek 17-foot Aquaterra Sea Lion. Neither of these boats are made anymore (Perception now makes the similar Tribute), but they are both seaworthy, beautiful, and great performers. And, best of all, they  let me paddle whenever I feel like it, on the ocean in Maine, around Cape Cod, and even on some of the lakes  and bigger rivers in New England.

Which created a problem . . .

My sweetheart Marilyn for all her great sense of adventure, doesn’t swim and has not been comfortable around water. She’d tried canoeing, definitely didn’t like it, and was content for awhile to stay on shore and watch me paddle away . . . until it began to gnaw at her that she hadn’t actually tried kayaking and therefore didn’t know if she liked it or not. She doesn’t like missing out on anything fun, and likes making her own decisions about what’s fun for her and what isn’t.

Her opportunity came this past weekend when we visited our friends David and Susan on “Fantasy Island” off the mouth of the New Meadows River in Harpswell, Maine. This is magnificent paddling country, the weather was perfect, and we had four kayaks available: my two sea kayaks and David’s  two Wilderness Systems Pungos, a 120 and 100 (12-foot and 10-foot, respectively). The 10-foot Pungo 100 is a stable, kinda-slow little peapod, mainly designed for quiet ponds, but the 12-foot 120 is a really nice all-around boat. It’s much wider and therefore feels more stable than many kayaks (including my Corona), but still moves along quickly and turns easily.

David and I paddled the two sea kayaks out to the island through some blustery winds, strong currents and pretty rough chop. We had a blast.

Early the next morning was dead calm and he and I paddled his two smaller boats to some nearby rocks to gather mussels for lunch. I came back raving about the stability of the 12-foot Pungo and how much fun it was to paddle on calm seas. Marilyn decided she had to try.

We all went out that afternoon. It took Marilyn all of five minutes in the boat before she decided she loved it. She caught on to the  basics quickly and we paddled several miles, exploring some hidden coves, watched the lobster boats, seabirds and herons going about their business.

That afternoon she tried the Corona seakayak, which doesn’t feel as stable (initial feelings can be deceiving) and she liked that, too. In fact, for the rest of the trip she chose to paddle “her” Corona  while the rest of us tried to keep up with her.

So, Marilyn and I have added kayaking to the list of Active Outdoor pastimes we love to do together. What about you? Life isn’t a spectator sport. Get out and enjoy!

Sea Kayak Resources

A kayak of her own. Marilyn Donnelly quickly claimed “her” Perception Corona sea kayak for expeditions along the Maine coast near Harpswell. As she discovered, paddling a sea kayak is easy and fun,

If you don’t know anyone who will take you out on your first (or 50^th) sea kayaking expedition, there are plenty of places to get onto the water safely with good equipment.

A year after my first seakayaking adventure with H2O, I  went out  on a day paddle with Seaspray Kayaking, which runs tours from the Sebasco Harbor Resort and daytrips and longer treks from two other locations along the mid-Maine coast.

Since then I’ve paddled on Western Bay near Acadia National Park with a group from National Park Sea Kayak Tours, on Town Cove in Orleans, Mass. with the Outdoor Center at the Goose Hummock Shop, and on the Kennebunk River in Maine with Coastal Maine Kayak .

Once you’ve gotten some experience you can start to take off on your own.  I paddled again among the islands of Penobscot Bay while windjammer cruising aboard the schooner Isaac H. Evans in a sea kayak I’d rented from EMS. I’ve also paddled a rented kayak from Action Sports around the Thimble Islands off Stoney Creek, Connecticut. If you don’t want to do it alone, Connecticut Coastal Kayaking offers guided trips around the Thimbles and other areas along the Connecticut coast

Almost every place that sells kayaks has rentals and demo boats you can try. Paddling on salt water is pure fun—give it a try this summer.

WEAR A LIFE VEST!

Always wear a PFD when you are in a kayak. Always - even on calm waters

From a press release: “New Hampshire Fish and Game Department divers today recovered the body of 52-year-old Kenneth Fudge, of Derry, N.H., who drowned after overturning his kayak in Lake Massabesic at about 5:00 p.m. yesterday (July 15, 2009). Fudge’s fiancé attempted save him, but he tragically slipped from her arms and sank after she could no longer hold him up. He did not know how to swim and was not wearing a life preserver. Weather was not a factor in the incident.”

There’s a lesson here. Always wear a PFD when you are kayaking, canoeing or boating—even if you can swim like a porpoise.