Dan, Sam, and me ready to take on Mount Prospect! Compare this with the "after" picture for a good laugh.

One of the least intelligent things I’ve done recently happened late last winter, when the heavy winter snows that pounded the east coast were beginning to melt into rivers. It was in these conditions that several of my friends and I thought a winter camping trip would be a good idea. But my notion of camping (a group of good friends toasting marshmallows by a campfire) didn’t quite match the reality my first winter camping adventure. In fact, our little expedition turned out to be more of an adventure than even my more adventurous companions had planned.

The idea for the trip came from my then-boyfriend, Sam, who loves the outdoors as much as I do and wanted to go camping for his birthday. We were both enthusiastic, and we did a lot of things right throughout the trip. I’ll share a few of those before I detail all those not-so-right things we did.

I never could have done it without Sam. He knew we’d need snowshoes. He told me to dress in lightweight layers in case we sweated when hiking, and that wool layers help keep you warm even if they do get wet. The goal in winter camping is to remain dry. Lesson: When the sun starts to set, clothing saturated with rain, snow, or sweat quickly become cold and dangerous.

Sam helped me evenly distribute weight in my backpack and chivalrously carried most of our shared gear in his own pack. He reminded me to pack extra wool socks, which turned out to be critical. He remembered Advil for headaches, a small stove since making a fire in snow (or ever) is difficult, moleskin (which our friend Dan used when a blister rubbed up), and extra cord which always seems to come in handy.

Another thing we did right: Sam, Dan, and I all told our family and friends exactly where we were going and when we expected to be back to the car. Lesson: Whenever  you go into the wild, let people who care about you know where you’re headed and when you’ll be back. Although it probably terrified my mother, I told her to call local authorities if she didn’t hear from me by 4 p.m. on Sunday. If some disaster had struck and our parents and friends didn’t hear from us, they would have sent out a search team.

Sam emailed me packing lists, my dad emailed me advice, and I emailed myself survival tips. If you’re planning to go winter camping, I recommend you use this list put together by the Eastern Slopes editors: How To: Winter Camping Checklist. If you’re missing any larger items of gear, your nearest EMS or REI store will rent gear for a small fee, and happily sell you any other things you need. We brought plenty of two hiking essentials you can’t find at any store: good attitudes and a thirst for adventure. I learned during the trip, however, that one of the most important things we forgot to pack was common sense. And that’s where the not-so-right choices began.

Danny Kern pauses at the trail's head with about 50 pounds of gear on his back. (Caroline McDonald photo)

We left Boston an hour, (OK, two)  later than we had originally planned. Lesson: On any group camping trip, someone will be late, so plan accordingly. Leaving a little late should have put me on the alert (particularly for winter camping, when the days are short, the nights are cold, and your margin for error is MUCH smaller!), but I wasn’t going to let it bother me. A beautiful three-hour drive later, we arrived at our jump-off point.

Mount Prospect  in the Mount Greylock State Reservation, nestled in the Berkshire Mountains of western Massachusetts. It’s only a few miles from the Norman Rockwell-esque college community of Williamstown. A flat, tree-lined pathway leads you across some fields to start. From there, the trail disappears into the forest. The walk in to the trail proper looked like a frozen, shining entry into a wonderful new world. Turned out that world was just a little harsher than we expected.

We planned the trip for early March, that long-awaited time of year when the temperatures finally begin to climb above freezing, and the ground thaws. It wasn’t too cold to enjoy the tiny, red checkerberries peeking out from under the melting snow, or the rush of the river our hike paralleled.

But the first signs of spring mean more than a picturesque trek through the woods. The unstable weather conditions cause a precarious combination of thawing and freezing which turned the record snows of last season  soft and unstable. Snowshoes were necessary to keep on top of the snow rather than knee-deep in it. Additionally, the “brooks” marked off on the trail map had turned to roaring rivers.

Take note: You should NEVER have a picture taken of you like this because you should never be in this situation. Standing on slippery rocks in near-freezing temperatures is a recipe for disaster. (Caroline McDonald photo)

At the first “brook,” the  little voice of reason in my head said, “This can’t be the right way. Trails don’t take you across rivers. Rivers get you wet, and wet is bad.” But the boys were sure it was the right way. I’m no chicken, but I think my brain shrunk to chicken-sized in that moment, and I crossed the river with them. At that point, we should have turned back and chosen a safer alternate route. Lesson: If it’s winter and you’re hiking, DO NOT risk getting wet. Any of us could have slipped and fallen in the river, completely submerging ourselves. Getting soaked at those temperatures would have immediately put us in a life-and-death survival situation we may or may not have been able to handle. With no one around for miles and no cell phone service, a tough hike out as the sun was setting would have been our only option, and hypothermia would have been a serious threat. Fortunately, none of us slipped.

But here’s one place where I prove conclusively I was dumber than the boys. They had waterproofed their boots; I hadn’t. While stepping across the river on rocks didn’t get their boots wet, it did mine. Hence, Lesson: Waterproof your boots. For a few bucks and a hour of time, you can assure yourself dry boots, or at least boots drier than mine were after that first river crossing.

We crossed two more “rivers” that evening, and, by that time, all of our boots were completely soaked. Crossing the streams was the only way to get to the site where we had planned to camp, and we were determined to get there. Looking back, I’m embarrassed to admit that I made such an unintelligent choice. But not wanting to ruin our fun on my boyfriend’s birthday trip, I meekly went along. We didn’t make it to the site that night. The sun began to set, and I insisted we find a spot and set up camp. The boys finally agreed. Here’s something we did right. Lesson: If the sun is setting, it’s better to stop, set up camp and be sure everything is properly assembled rather than continue. Trying to find a good spot, set up a tent, and get situated can take a while, and it’s very difficult with only a few flashlights.

When you’re winter camping, modern comforts that we take for granted every day are a big deal. It’s easy to forget that people are entirely dependent on sunlight and warmth to function when we live in houses where heat and lights come on with the flick of a finger. It’s not so simple on the side of a mountain when you’re surrounded by snow. Getting our feet dry and warm was the evening’s goal. Thanks to the extra wool socks and foot warmers, we succeeded in rewarming our cold feet.

The Money Brook Trail was lush with fir and birch trees, and it was great to be able to cross a brook with dry feet.. (Caroline McDonald photo)

That night we could hear the wet snow and rain falling outside. I was glad we’d taken the time to be sure the rain fly was properly set up. But we made another rookie mistake. Sam had packed an extra-large tarp to go under the tent–so  the water that slid off the rainfly splashed onto the tarp where some of it ran under the tent. Not surprisingly, the bottom of the tent became damp. Lesson: If you are going to use a ground cloth under your tent, make sure it is covered by the rainfly.

I was grateful Sam and I had packed Therm-a-rest mats. Dan didn’t fare as well without one. Lesson: A pad is as essential for warmth in cold-weather camping as a sleeping bag.

The  morning dawned cold, still, and beautiful. A light snow fell on us as we packed up and set out. The hike up Mount Prospect proved to be one of the most challenging and rewarding days I’ve ever had. The “brooks” we’d crossed the day before didn’t scare me nearly as much as that hike up the mountain did.

The trail was incredibly steep and icy, and my snowshoes didn’t have traction spikes on them. Lesson: Invest in traction aids for safe winter hiking. Creepers, crampons, or snowshoes with spikes make a huge difference if you hike in ice or snow. In our case, crampons would have been the most useful. I’ve since found them to be an easy, lightweight solution to icy hiking. They aren’t as cumbersome as snowshoes and make avoiding tree roots easier.

Navigating the Money Brook Trail with its roots and ice, all with a heavy pack on, was no small feat. All of all of our attention was on the trail before us. The extreme conditions demanded no less. In this physically challenging environment, I found the greatest reward. The hiking introduced a primal sort of Zen. My only concerns were the well-being of the others and the steps in front of me. No room in my mind was left to care about answering emails or how stupid my hat looked (as the pictures will tell).

Our greatest triumph came when we reached a shelter located near the mountain’s peak. There, we indulged in just-add-hot-water burritos out of a bag. I swear it was the tastiest Mexican food I’ve ever eaten. After a short rest, we continued our hike onto the Prospect Trail until we reached an overlook near the summit. A moment with the clear air and perfect, untouched snow justified the tough hike up. We admired the view and added a stone to the cairn started by other brave hikers who had also reached the top. We couldn’t linger for too long though. We had a river to cross and camp to set up before nightfall.

What a reward! 1266 feet of uphill backpacking led us to the summit of Mount Prospect and an unforgettable view. (Caroline McDonald photo)

Whereas I’d found the hike up to be the toughest part, the boys thought coming down was far more challenging. They were carrying more weight than I was, so toppling over was a very real possibility. Lesson: Trekking poles are a safety essential. Before the trip, I’d thought the trekking poles were an extraneous toy for the boys. But during the hike I wished I had brought them, too. They came in handy several times. That night, we used to them to hang damp clothes  by a fire.

The adrenaline I’d been pumping all weekend made the hike out seem easy on Sunday morning, especially compared to the mountain we’d scaled the day before. I didn’t realize how exhausted I was until we reached the car. I felt happy and very lucky to have all of my body parts intact and at  98.6 degrees.

A week later, I couldn’t stop talking about our weekend adventure. I still bring it up frequently. I felt proud of my body for going through the extreme weather and physical exertion. The high was unbeatable.

However, a lot of things we did were plain dumb. Getting out alive was as much pure luck as physical accomplishment and preparedness. I wish we’d planned better, and made better decisions on the way. Maybe I would have if I’d read Hike Wisely before I went.

Feeling both exhausted and proud after three days of winter hiking and camping. (Caroline McDonald photo)

Lesson: Winter camping is a blast.  I encourage every adventurous heart to try it. However, be sure you learn in increments and are prepared to get out safely even if the worst situation arises. Keep my tips and mishaps in mind when you start planning this winter’s camping adventures. And don’t forget to listen when your common sense pipes up! It’s trying to keep you safe!

An outdoor wedding is nice, especially when the bride is this beautiful. (Tim Jones photo)

Our friends Rich and Suzanne got married on a late summer Saturday that hinted of coming autumn, so my sweetheart Marilyn and I spent a beautiful, cool afternoon and evening all dressed up with lots of nice people around. They are a wonderful couple, it was a  lovely outdoor ceremony, and a great party after, and we throughly enjoyed the whole experience. But by Sunday morning, we were ready to get away and enjoy the rest of a long weekend being Active Outdoors. I don’t know about you, but I prefer hiking boots to dress shoes.

The wedding wasn’t far from Springfield, Mass. Searching around for nearby opportunities, we chanced upon the AMC’s Noble View Outdoor Center in Russell, Mass. Though we regularly visit AMC lodges and huts in New Hampshire and Maine, we’d never stayed at Noble View. Instant getaway!

I’ve always contended that there are outdoor opportunities everywhere. When we booked our night at Noble View, I asked the volunteer caretaker, Gary Forish, about dayhikes nearby. While there are a number of short hikes which start and end right at Noble View, Gary (like all AMC folks an enthusiastic outdoors person), recommended the Keystone Arch Bridges Trail about 20 minutes away in Chester. Great choice, Thanks Gary!

If you think this ancient stonework on the Keystone Arch Bridges Trail is impressive, wait until you see what's coming . . . (Tim Jones photo)

The trail starts off Middlefield Road about two and a half miles out of “downtown” Chester. At the trailhead you find the first of several large signboards which give you the history of the bridges and the railroad that created them. The trail, which essentially parallels the Westfield River, starts on a rough dirt road–clearly used by off road vehicles–but soon departs for a more sylvan route along a sidehill. Almost instantly you begin seeing signs of the stonework that defines much of human activity in this area. A mile or so out, a modern pedestrian bridge (made of wood and metal, not stone but still functional) gets you across a steepsided gully and a little trickle marked on the map merely as “Unnamed Stream.” Watch your step where the trail tuns and parallels the gully–a slip could prove, well, interesting . . .

You have to scramble down (and then back up) a steep bank to see this view, but it's clearly worth the effort. (Tim Jones photo)

Eventually the path turns again and follows the sidehill until it meets again with the old road near a spectacular span of hand-cut stones dry-laid without an ounce of mortar. Please understand that I don’t use the word “spectacular” lightly . . . this is an absolutely gorgeous structure in a beautiful setting, a worthy destination for a walk (or mountain bike ride). Take a moment while you are here to imagine the work of many hands that produced this testament to human ingenuity and the engineer’s art.

These were the first such railroad bridges constructed in North America and several are still standing proudly when several more modern and presumably “better” bridges in New England had washed away only three weeks before in the floods brought by the remnants of Hurricanes Irene, Lee and Katia. Like the bedrock they rest on, these bridges are going to be here for a very long time.

Marilyn standing alone on the bridge gives you a sense of the massive scale. Imagine this scene in foliage season!

We’d had a leisurely day planned and this was a perfect hike, not too long and not too hard, but rewarding all the same. Compared to the White Mountains of New Hampshire, this is very, very easy walking. By the time we had reached the bridge and taken our photos, the sun was already arcing noticeably toward the horizon. Though we had headlamps in our packs, in case darkness overtook us,  we decided to turn back rather than continue on to explore other bridges farther up the trail. We wanted a chance to see Noble View in full daylight on a bright afternoon. Besides, the unseen bridges will almost certainly lure us to return.

There were the slightest hints of color in a few leaves on this late-summer day. But I can only imagine how beautiful this hike will be in a couple of weeks when the leaves are turning. If you happen to go on this hike on a sunny day when the autumn colors are in full display, please take a photo of the bridge and send it to me (timjones@easternslopes.com). There’s a short trail from the east end of the bridge out to the railroad tracks which offers one of the best vantage-points for a photo. I’d love to see (and share with other EasternSlopes.com readers) what we missed by not being there at the right moment.

Noble Lodging

Even if a family named "Noble" hadn't owed the property in the 1800s, "Noble View" would still be an appropriate name. (Tim Jones photo)

You don’t really notice it as you drive up General Knox Road, up South Quarter Road, then up the long gravel drive to Noble View, but “up” is the key concept in reaching Noble View. When you step between the newly renovated “Double Cabin” and “North Cottage,” the tremendous view to the east grabs your eyeballs and drags them over Westfield and Springfield. You’re slightly surprised that you can’t see the skyline of Boston. Or maybe even the Alps. The view seems to go on forever.

I can tell you for certain it’s even more spectacular at night with city lights twinkling below, and at sunrise on a cold, clear autumn morning when the sky is a brilliant orange. By the way, though the view is definitely noble, the property name came from the Noble family which bought it in 1825. The AMC purchased the property in 1931 and has added to it since. There are 17 miles of hiking and cross-country ski trails on the 360-acres.

A bunk at Noble View is $26/night for AMC members, $28 for non-members. A bedroom with two bunks is $40/$44, four bunks $76/84, you get the picture. There’s no plumbing in the cottages, though there’s a 6-burner range, refrigerator, a good complement of kitchenware and plenty of space to cook for a group.

Three of the buildings at Noble View, like North Cottage shown here, are newly renovated and accessible to people with disabilities. (Tim Jones photo)

There’s indoor plumbing (showers, sinks, toilets, a restaurant-style sink for washing dishes) in a beautiful new bathhouse, but it’s a short walk to get there. The bathhouse has solar panels on the roof which supply most of the electricity used on the property, the toilets are flush-composting models, there’s plenty of hot water. It’s all very green technology and the three remodeled buildings are accessible for people with disabilities.

Noble View gets a lot of use on weekends by Scout groups and various service organizations, but some weekends are empty (what a place for a family gathering!) Midweek, it’s perfect for a quiet overnight getaway with all outdoors around you.

Sad Commentary

The Keystone Arch Bridges Trail intersects at several points with old roads that are, apparently, heavily used by off road vehicles. While I’ll readily admit that I’d prefer to see people getting exercise and fresh air by walking or riding a mountain bike in this beautiful setting, the four- wheelers hadn’t done much damage to the road other than a few deep tire ruts in muddy spots and, perhaps, contributing to erosion in a few others.

Absolutely appalling, however, was the amount of litter—mainly blue Bud Light cans—strewn  along the jeep roads, especially where repeated large “campfires” had been built. Shame on the thoughtless renegades who regularly desecrate this beautiful spot. By the way, in case you are wondering, there weren’t any beer cans at all along the sections of trail accessible only to hikers and mountain bikers.

It doesn’t have to be this way. Snowmobilers,  for example, have done a marvelous job of organizing clubs which, in turn, educate their members on responsible riding and contribute heavily to trail maintenance and upkeep. In my experience, the vast majority of snowmobilers are good citizens. It’s rare to see litter anywhere snowmobilers ride.

To me, it looks like it’s time for the responsible majority in the ATV and 4WD community in this area to step up, organize and educate its members. Maybe the brewing companies could do more to educate their consumers as well . . . Other that that, the only remedy I can see is increased law enforcement.

Another Sad Comment

Apparently, efforts to preserve and protect these amazing stone structures are being frustrated at every turn. See the comment below from David Pierce. . . .

After four years of family vacations spent looking out at Minot’s Ledge Light from the beaches of Scituate, Mass., I was determined to get a close-up look at the venerable old lighthouse that juts straight out of the sea a little more than a mile offshore. After all, I own a 17-foot canvas-and-wood framed tandem kayak bought specifically for salt-water adventures.

Snowy egrets and other waterfowl ply the marshes at the south end of Cohasset Harbor. A beautiful sight! (Jonathan Gourlay photo)

This summer, as  in the past, we rented a house for a week with my wife’s mother, sisters and their families, on North Scituate Beach just down the road from Strawberry Point, the southern entrance to Cohasset Harbor. Across the road from the house was a public beach and behind it was the eastern edge of a tidal marsh that alternately filled and drained twice a day with the tide.

America’s most dangerous beacon
One of the main shipping lanes into Boston Harbor passes Minot’s Ledge, a submerged rock outcropping and the site of numerous shipwrecks in the 18^th and first half of the 19^th centuries. The first Minot Light was built in 1850 of steel, but lasted barely a year before a severe storm ripped it apart, killing two assistant keepers: Joseph Wilson and Joseph Antoine. A granite replacement was completed in 1860 and still stands guard over the active shipping lane.

Because of the shipping lane and the rocks marked by the light, the local kayaking clubs suggest kayakers visiting the light know how to read the water and maneuver around rocks that can be alternately submerged and exposed, depending on the waves and swell rolling in from the sea.

I wanted to share the thrill of digging into oncoming waves and riding them back in with my sons, but because they are not experienced paddlers, I thought I’d break them in easy. A round trip in a heavy-but-stable kayak would be a workout,  so I first invited  Ethan, our 14-year-old, because he would make my hardiest bow paddler.

On day one, late in the afternoon on a perfectly clear day, we pushed off  the kayak into a natural trough bordered by high marsh grass 50 yards behind the house. We couldn’t spend too much time in the boat because the dinner bell would ring early that night and the marshes drain fast once the tide starts flowing out. Ending our paddle bottomed out on mud with the sun going down wasn’t part of the plan.

Bowman Ethan enjoys the solitude and quiet of the salt marsh. (Jonathan Gourlay photo)

Messing around and warming up on flat water
Ethan and I pushed off from the grass just a little before high tide. There was no perceptible movement of water, so we decided to simply paddle into progressively wider channels as we came to them. We zigzagged left and right into ever-wider channels for about 20 minutes, paddling in almost complete silence, the grass and reeds providing a sound buffer that made it seem like we were the last people on earth.

At one point a snowy egret swept across our path 20 yards ahead of us. Presently, we started to hear children’s voices drift in from somewhere across the marsh. The next turn revealed a wider expanse of water and Bassings Beach to our west. The turn also brought more sounds from across the open water ahead of us that was Cohasset Harbor.

“Where do you think those voices are coming from?” asked Ethan. I told him I didn’t know. The voices became clearer and seemed to be very close. Approaching what appeared to be the last bit of marsh jutting out from our right, I spotted a flash of white in the grass. “Egret,” I whispered to Ethan, shipping my paddle and pulling a camera from my dry bag. As we floated silently  forward, I took pictures of what appeared to be an adult snowy egret with a youngster nearby. The youngster wasn’t as tall as the adult and seemed to have some gray on its chest.

After our egret encounter, Ethan and I paddled on. Shortly we approached an obvious division between the marsh and the harbor as a line of rippling water took over from the glassy surface we were leaving behind.

An old WWII-era sub tower stands as a sentinel looking out over the coastline. (Jonathan Gourlay photo)

Then we spotted the source of the lively children’s voices: a dozen or more white hulls under sail were cutting through the water in a cove.

“Sailing class,” I said to Ethan. “That’s where the voices are coming from.”

Once we reached the open water, we made a right turn and headed for the end of Strawberry Point. To our right we could see the top of an old World War II-era sub-spotting tower built among the scrub pines and oak.

We made for the tip of the point and entered the main channel of the harbor. It looked like it would take another half hour, at least, just to reach the point, so, after talking it over with Ethan, we spun around and headed back for the protected marsh. Back in the grass-protected channels, we floated quietly for awhile and listened again to the muted sounds of nature.

Almost to the light. Minot's Ledge is hidden by the tide just east of the Boston Harbor shipping lane that approaches from the south. (Ethan Gourlay photo)

Lover’s Light or bust
A couple of days later, we finally decided to go for the light. The weather looked questionable and I decided the direct route would be best. We rolled the kayak down the road about 100 yards to the end of the seawall and across the stony beach to a tidal pool that was quickly emptying of water. Ethan got in, I pushed us off, and we paddled between two large rock piles, our bow splitting the oncoming two-foot waves with barely a notice.

From there, with the tide on our side, we paddled straight (or, at least, as straight as we could with wind, waves, and tidal current)  toward the light with Strawberry Point stretching off to our left. We passed what appeared to be a partially submerged steel mast with a kestrel perched on top. I passed Ethan the camera.

As we approached a big green “can” buoy which marks the shipping channel, I told Ethan I would need his help to paddle quickly across. He passed the camera back to me and we paddled out into the main traffic lane for ships approaching Boston from the Atlantic. Ship traffic was light, but it was like someone threw a switch and we suddenly encountered a pretty decent swell rolling in from the northeast that added almost two feet to the foot and a half chop we’d been paddling through. I explained to Ethan that, as long as we headed straight into the swell and the waves, they wouldn’t affect our boat. He said the wave action made our trip more fun. Ethan did an admirable job of matching me stroke for stroke to get across the channel quickly.

Safely across, I dug the camera out once again and handed it forward  for him to take pictures. Minot Light is  a 97-foot monolith, impressive up close. We were careful not to approach too close. Jagged rocks hide below the surface, and the waves and tidal currents could easily push us against the unforgiving granite, which could mean disaster in a canvas boat.

The granite monolith is topped by a lens now powered by solar rays. (Ethan Gourlay photo)

The white beacon of Minot Light flashes white once, then four times, then three times, and repeats this pattern every 45 seconds. Local romantics discovered the 1-4-3 sequence to be the same as the letter count in “I love you,” which is why it’s known as the “Lover’s Light.” Today, the light is lit by solar power and continues to warn boats of the hidden hazards and guides large vessels safely in and out of Boston, Hull and harbors to the south.

We rounded the light, passing two anchored fishing boats and headed back toward shore, making for the north end of Egypt Beach, where we were scheduled to meet the rest of our vacation party. But we found ourselves fighting against the tide after rounding the light and instead of heading straight for the shore, we angled to the south a bit, passing a dive boat on the way. A continuous half-hour paddling effort got us near the beach. Ethan kept a sharp lookout for rocks below the surface and cautioned there might be some hidden boulders lurking between two large rockpiles right in our path. The surface wave action revealed no obstructions below, so I convinced him that there was plenty of water to pass and we safely rode the swell toward the shore. After another 20 minutes or so, we negotiated another rock garden and beached the kayak on the smooth sand just a short walk from the North Scituate Post Office.

We were greeted as returning heroes by our family as we stretched legs, backs and arms, happy with our accomplishment. We had finally seen Lover’s Light up close, had viewed our familiar sliver of coastline from a vastly different perspective, and, accomplished our main task of simply messing around in the boat for a while.

MORE KAYAK STORIES:

Three Days On The Water In Northern New Hampshire and Maine: Lake Umbagog, The Magalloway and Kennebago Rivers

Escape The Heat By Paddling the Charles River (Great Views of Boston, Too!)

One Night Getaway: A 28-Hour Couples Vacation With Kayaks

Kennebunk Idyll: First Paddle Of The Year

Salty Kayaking

IF YOU GO:

You don’t need to own your own kayak to paddle south of Boston

Kayak rentals:

Nantasket Kayak

Charles River Canoe & Kayak

Kayak and accessory sales:

Buckles & Boards Ski & Surf

Home rentals:

VacationRentals.com

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.

Boston from under the Longfellow Bridge. A view for kayakers only! (Caroline McDonald photo)

Between record-breaking temperatures and a serious lack of air conditioning in my adopted city, the heat becomes unbearable.  So, I did what most Bostonians do: located the nearest body of water and made a beeline to it.

Fortunately for me, the Charles River is only about a mile from my apartment. During the summer, it vibrates with activity. From sunbathers to yachters to Canada geese on summer vacation, water lovers of all sorts come to enjoy the natural waterway that divides the brick and concrete of Boston and Cambridge.

A couple of weeks ago on my bike tour of Boston with Urban Adventours, I noticed kayakers in the Charles for the first time. Ever since, I’ve been eager to try kayaking myself.  What better way to beat the heat than to give it a shot on a blistering Saturday?

I met up with the Charles River Canoe & Kayak team near Kendall Square in Cambridge. Their tents and colorful kayaking gear were set up right by a protected harbor on the river. Our river guides, Steve and Dan, gathered our tour group and outlined our adventure. Both of our guides have been paddling their whole lives. They’re also trained in basic first-aid, although the trip turned out to be relaxed enough that it didn’t matter. Their knowledge made me feel safer though, before getting into a very big river in what felt to me like a very small kayak.

Steve shared stories of the city and river. He's been paddling for over 40 years! (Caroline McDonald)

Steve also made us comfortable by explaining a few river basics. His instructions were simple (“This is up. This is down.”), but they were beneficial for me and some others who had never been taught how to hold a double-sided paddle. And luckily for anyone who’s never been on a river at all, paddling is pretty intuitive. This three-hour Boston Harbor Kayak Tour is suitable for just about any skill level.

We paired off into tandem kayaks, and I met my partner for the day, Florin Brasov. Florin is a software engineer from Needham, Massachusetts who’s originally from Romania. He had done a similar kayaking trip earlier this summer and came back to get up close in a unique way to the huge ships docked at the Charlestown Navy Yard.

But before we hit salt water, we paddled down the fresh water river. I thought of the poem, The Bridge, by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow as we drifted under the old stone columns of the Longfellow Bridge built at the turn of the century. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow supposedly walked over this bridge’s predecessor from Cambridge to visit his sweetheart in Boston every day. Stone sculptures of Viking ships adorn the sides of the columns, and I enjoyed this treat visible only from the water!

We paddled by the Museum of Science where a beautiful outdoor wedding was being set up, past ramshackle fishing boats tied up next to yachts worth more than my head (or, at least, the education in it–but you’d have to ask my Dad to be certain of that), and observed (from an unobtrusive distance) a cormorant, a bird with unique deep-diving abilities, drying his water-drenched wings in the sun. Before long, we’d traveled the length of Boston proper.

Very few people get to see the belly of the Zakim Bridge. It's even more impressive in person. (Caroline McDonald photo)

We passed through a narrow canal and felt very tiny under the Zakim Bridge, the widest cable-stayed bridge in the world (as you may recall from my Bike Boston article).

Finally, we reached the Charles River Dam and the locks dividing the fresh water of Charles from the salty bay of Charlestown. When we were given the go-ahead green light from the guards, we entered these locks.

Add river locks to the long list of technologies Leonardo da Vinci designed. They are quite an experience if you’ve never encountered them before. In a kayak you get to feel da Vinci’s genius first hand. At first, all we could see were the stone walls that surrounded us. The water slowly poured in, and we rose up to the bay’s level. I’d first encountered locks this spring when I went rafting on the Concord River in Lowell, and I enjoyed my second  encounter with these historic structures just as much.

Two famous ships were the main attraction that drew us into the saltwater. Boston was hosting the Coast Guard Cutter Eagle, nicknamed “America’s Tall Ship.” The U.S. took this huge ship (built in Hamburg in 1936) as reparation from Germany after World War II. It has recently been traveling to major U.S. cities to celebrate its 75th birthday. Although the Coast Guard Cutter Eagle was only there for the one weekend, the U.S.S. Constitution (“Old Ironsides”) calls Boston home. This famous ship was christened by George Washington himself and is the world’s oldest, floating commissioned navy vessel. Unlike the cutter Eagle, this black beauty can always be seen on the Boston Harbor Kayak Tour.  Florin was ecstatic to be near them. He insisted that we paddle as close as possible to the huge ships. The Constitution, in particular, was as close to a Captain Hook pirate ship as I’ve ever seen (and yes, I’ve been to Disney World), and Florin’s excitement was contagious. The ships were definitely the highlight of the tour for me!

Steve and Dan were able to tell us about these ships’ unique histories. In fact, they told us the history about much of the water we traveled through. The same river that thousands of cars, bikers, and subways cross over every day is as alive with history as Bunker Hill or the gold-domed capital building, both of which you get excellent views of, by the way.

The U.S.S. Constitution, nicknamed "Old Ironsides" (the black ship), is the oldest commissioned warship in the world. It permanently resides in Boston. Our tour group was also fortunate to see "America's Tall Ship," alongside it. (Caroline McDonald photo)

The trip back up the river was as leisurely as the one down (the dam means little or no current, so the paddling stays easy!). Steve was right when he said that, aside from an air conditioned room, being in a kayak on the water is the coolest place you can be on a hot Boston day. The weather felt perfect, and I was more than a little sorry for my friends who weren’t actually enjoying being outside in the heat.

Kayaking on the Charles is a must if you’re in Boston in the summertime. It’s a wonderful addition to any vacation visit or an unusual weekend activity if you live here. Even if you’ve lived in the city all your life, it’s a way to get a new perspective that you really can’t get any other way.  I can’t lie, I felt pretty awesome telling the girls in my office Monday morning what I had done last weekend. I recommended it to all of them, and I recommend it to you.

When you go

Charles River Canoe & Kayak offers the only kayak rentals in the immediate Boston area. Their business has locations in Newton, Natick, and Nahanton Park where they also offer a variety of quality kayaking options.

There are many tours in addition to the one I took. Explore their website to see what other trips might be of interest to you. Their website is full of information from rental rates to availability in cities outside of Boston. Personally, I’d like to go back for the Skyline & Sunset Tour because watching the sunset from the Charles is magnificent. (Even if you don’t end up renting a kayak, you must watch the sunset on the Charles from one of the docks!).  Charles River Canoe & Kayak offers rentals without a guided tour as well. Plenty of experienced kayakers like to explore on their own.

Bring a bottle of water and as little else as possible. Dry bags are available, but keeping it simple with minimal “stuff” makes any outdoor experience more enjoyable.

No part of this trip was stressful or particularly difficult. Remember to kick back, enjoy the breeze, and take in the magnificent views of New England’s best city.

Lisa and I stop for a photo op on one of the Charles River's docks. (courtesy photo)

“I always like Boston,” Lisa turned to me and said. “But right now, I LOVE Boston.” As we pedaled along the picturesque Charles River, watching the crew teams fly by and dogs play on the riverbanks, I couldn’t have agreed more.

When Lisa and I moved here four years ago as college freshmen, we couldn’t have imagined what a perfect fit Boston would be for both of us. Now, as seniors at Northeastern University, we’ve learned some of the city’s ins and outs—the Orange Line subway is the fastest; the best restaurants are hidden in the South End; and, most important of all, never, never, never admit to being a Yankees fan.

Wanting to learn even more about our adopted home, Lisa and I decided to take a guided tour with Urban Adventours which offers Daily City Tours. Perhaps I’m just biased toward Boston, but I honestly believe this was the best tour I’ve had in any city, anywhere. The most obvious difference between this tour and the others I’ve taken before was that we went on bicycles! A few years ago, Boston was named the least cyclist-friendly city in America. Well, either Boston has changed or someone got it dead wrong. Boston by bike is beautiful!

That's me outside of Urban Adventours modeling one of their comfortable, hybrid bicycles. (Lisa Genna photo)

Urban Adventours provided a stable, easy-to-ride hybrid bicycle for each member of our tour group. The squishy seats were comfortable for even the boniest of bums, and the staff made sure those seats were correctly adjusted to each rider’s height. They also spent time fitting every person with a comfortable helmet. We were each given a water bottle to keep us hydrated over our 10-ish mile tour. You can get more details on the exact tour we took here. They also do Paul Revere’s Ride by bicycle.

After we were all geared up, we were sent a short distance to our meeting point at the statue of Christopher Columbus in Columbus Park fronting Boston Harbor. Our group numbered 18 riders including 3 tour guides. A typical weekend tour can be anywhere from 16 to 40 people; weekday tours are smaller, usually 4 to 16 riders. Lisa and I both felt that 18 was a perfect size for the group, and we enjoyed talking to everyone. Of course, we enjoy talking . . .

Before we got started, we all introduced ourselves, telling where we were from. I was not surprised that people from as far as Ireland and L. A. would be taking a tour like this. But I was also not surprised that other Boston locals like us were there for a different view of the city, too. Our guides were Pell (like “pell-mell,” he said), an animation guru who boasted forty years of commuting via bicycle; Angie, a young teacher working in Cambridge; and Annie, a Boston native who had just finished her first year at Stanford University. Our guides’ backgrounds were diverse, but they all clearly shared a love for Boston and cycling.

You can't tell you're in a city when you walk inside the Kelleher Rose Garden. Ten points to whoever can tell me what these strange purple flowers surrounding the water fountain are called! (Caroline McDonald photo)

We took off like “one big rolling family,” as Pell said, and headed to Boston’s Italian district, better known as the North End. Locals and tourists alike visit this part of the city for authentic Italian food and delicious pastries. We rode past the Old North Church, the oldest standing church in the city, and on to a terrace overlooking the famed Bunker Hill. We stopped there for a brief history lesson, then continued on to see the Zakim Bridge (the widest cable-stayed bridge in the world), which serves as a welcome mat to Boston’s infamous Big Dig.

From there, we rode through many of Boston’s green spaces including the Boston Common which was originally used by farmers to graze their cattle on, the Charles River Reservation I mentioned earlier, and the Back Bay Fens including the beautiful Kelleher Rose Garden.

We rode past fabled Fenway Park, and I was glad that our guides Annie and Angie explained to the out-of-towners how the Red Sox bring Bostonians together. Like small town fans and their high school football team, everyone in Boston loves the Red Sox, watches the games, and follows the season. I suppose the players’ salaries are the main difference.

But Boston boasts more than amazing sports teams. (I won’t mention that the Bruins had just brought home the Stanley Cup.) It’s also rich with literary history. My favorite stop of the trip was Louisburg Square, an unassuming but beautiful collection of townhouses in Beacon Hill. I’m an English major, and my inner literary dork was thrilled to learn that this small square, now the most expensive residential neighborhood in America, has sheltered a treasure trove of amazing writers, including Louisa May Alcott, Robert Frost, William Dean Howells, Sylvia Plath, and Anne Sexton. I’m hoping some of their genius rubbed off on me while I was there!

Our "big rolling family" bikes up Beacon Hill. (Caroline McDonald photo)

We took short breaks at several other locations like Boston University and the Christian Science Center. One stop was in the Historic South End near my home. They forgot to mention that my brownstone apartment is the most important building in Boston, at least to me. But I won’t hold it against them because they did tell us about the history and architecture of Copley Square, an area developed in the late 19th century. The cornerstones of it are the National Historic Landmarks of Trinity Church, the Boston Public Library, and Old South Church, the latter playing a pivotal role in both the Revolution and the Underground Railroad. Nowadays, it hosts my favorite farmer’s market on Tuesdays and Fridays, and it’s where the Boston Marathon finishes.

This tour isn’t  geared towards serious cyclist or workout enthusiasts; it’s for people who enjoy a fun, non-threatening bike ride. Throughout the tour, Annie was on safety patrol and kept us safe from cars by alerting them of our presence at stoplights and by biking up and down the line of riders as we traveled. The constant reassurance was important for our group’s mixed age range and biking ability. With Annie’s help, the bells attached to the bikes’ handlebars, and the safe route we traveled, Lisa and I never once felt in danger riding through Boston. The pace was leisurely so that it was easy to keep up and still get a good look around. Having now done two different tours of Boston, I believe that pedaling a bike is the best way to see the city.

On a bike, you get to see parks and intimate nooks of the city you wouldn’t driving in a car, trolley, Duck Boat or bus. You control your own speed, so if you want to slow down and get a good look at Trinity Church, you can. Finally, it’s good for the environment and you! As Urban Adventours says, “Burn carbs, not carbon!” Lisa and I worked up a good appetite during the 3-hour bike trip; afterwards we walked to a restaurant at Faneuil Hall nearby.

Biking through the Boston Common, the oldest park in the country. (Caroline McDonald photo)

If you’ve never been to Boston, you should visit Faneuil Hall since it’s one of the most famous places in the city. However, lunching there reminded me that because it’s so famous, it’s also very crowded. Another good option to reward the appetite you’ll work up, is one of my favorite seafood restaurants, Neptune Oyster, located nearby in the North End. If you are an adventuresome eater, the raw oysters there are fresh, and, most importantly, delicious!

After your trip, you might also consider renting a bicycle from Urban Adventours and continuing to explore the city on your own. Since I bought my own bicycle about a month ago, I’ve found it’s the best way to get around Boston. Bikes are even allowed on the subway. You don’t have to deal with parking (or lack thereof), traffic, or cab fares, and of course, they’re really fun!

The bottom line is that if you’re in Boston, get on a bicycle. It’s an active way to see and learn about one of America’s most historic cities. If you live here, show your home some love and learn more about it with a tour. If you’re visiting, I can’t wait to hear how you’ve fallen in love too!

THE DETAILS

Urban Adventours is located between Faneuil Hall and the Aquarium near the wharf. It’s right in the hustle of downtown, and public transportation is the easiest way to get there. I took the “City View” tour, one of the many Daily City Tours offered. Check out the other Daily City Tours offered to decide what’s best for you. Pell told us that the Bike and Brew Tour, one where you end up at Boston’s Harpoon Brewery, is a particularly popular one. The Daily City Tour is only $50 a person, a good price for 3 hours of guided biking, which includes the bike, water bottle, helmet, and the incomparable local knowledge of the guides.

The group size and pace worked perfectly. Our guides were  friendly, kept us safe and comfortable, and we were happy to tip them at the end for the great job they did. Urban Adventours also offers private and group tours. School bike programs are available as well. If you take my advice and rent a bike for your own exploration, Urban Adventours offers very reasonable rental rates that include a bike lock, helmet, and map. Urban Aventours is unique in the Boston area, a quality local company with a worthy mission to show off the best of the city in and environmentally friendly way.  They’ll help make your Boston visit both active and fun!

Expect to get wet if you go whitewater rafting. But don’t worry, if the water’s cold, a wetsuit will keep you warm (N.E.O.C. photo)

Whitewater rafting is something every Active Outdoors enthusiast should try at some point, and Spring is the perfect time.  So is summer, or, for that matter, fall. As long as the water is flowing, it’s a good time for rafting. As Caroline McDonald  discovered when she went Rafting on the Concord River. Don’t let the cold water scare you. You’ll be wearing a wetsuit and a paddling jacket if it’s cold.

Whitewater rafting is pure sensory overload, a wild rollercoaster ride with smiles guaranteed. I’ve gone rafting twice on the Kennebec River in Maine, once in the spring and once in the fall. I also did an early-summer raft trip on the Hudson River in New York. My sweetheart Marilyn floated the Deerfield in Massachusetts in May while I took a whitewater kayak lesson. All of those experiences have been memorable.

Even if you’ve been rafting before, the experience on every river is slightly different. On Maine’s Kennebec, for example, you start fast. The second you push away from the bank, the current grabs you and you go plunging into Class II and IV rapids (the higher the number, the higher the waves, the more exciting the ride.) On my first rafting trip, within seconds, everyone in our raft was laughing and shrieking for the sheer joy of it—and the ride hadn’t really started yet. The first five miles were pure rollercoaster; the last seven miles, pure relaxation. I floated that first time with New England Outdoor Center, but they have since sold their Kennebec River operation to another successful guide service, Magic Falls Rafting Company. NEOC still runs trips on the Penobscot.

Inside a small raft in "Big Water," you get up really close and personal with a lot of that water. (Tim Jones photos)

A “big-water release” and a small raft drew me to the Kennebec River the second time with Windfall Outdoor Center. Big water rafting in a small raft is rafting taken to it’s logical conclusion—bigger waves, faster water, and a smaller boat that bounces around more. Fun! Because you need one guide for each raft and the smaller raft has fewer people, you pay a little extra to be in the small raft, and a little more for coveted “Big Water” release days (when the dams are opened fully to test the turbines). But if you’ve already tried rafting, are ready for a bigger thrill, but not yet ready to do it on your own in a kayak, this is the way to go.

On the Deerfield in western Massachusetts, you start and finish slowly and get your wild ride in the middle on a number of Class II-III rapids, with one very exciting Class IV moment at Zoar Gap. This is an excellent trip for first-timers, scary-fun but not overwhelming. My sweetheart Marilyn floated with Zoar Outdoor while I took a whitewater kayaking clinic with them.

On the Hudson, you start out paddling into the maelstrom. (Tim Jones photo)

The Hudson River, which I floated with the Hudson River Rafting Company starts quickly with a trip down the Indian River to join the Hudson. Then it’s in and out of Class III and IV rapids most of the way, with quiet pockets between to relax and re-group (and maybe take a swim alongside the floating raft!). Great ride!

Because of liability insurance concerns, there are typically age and size restrictions on who can go rafting. Check ahead of time if you want to bring very small children – your options may be limited. Other than that, rafting is an adventure that a whole family from kids to healthy, mobile great-grandparents can share and enjoy together.

Even non-swimmers are welcome on most rafting expeditions. For safety’s sake, you’re wearing a helmet and a heavy-duty PFD (Personal Flotation Device) at all times while you’re in or on the river.

So don’t be timid. Relax and go with the flow.

It's the best rollercoaster ride you'll ever find. (Tim Jones photos)

A Raft of Options:

Here’s a (probably incomplete) list of rafting options. If you know of others, please drop me an email and let me know. While I’ve taken trips with four of these companies, it seems to me that any who have stayed in business any length of time know what they are doing. There’s too much competition for the weak to survive. My advice: Look over the websites, call and ask lots and lots of questions about what’s included in the price, and then book with the one that seems best for you.

Maine (Dead, Kennebec, and Penobscot Rivers)

Crab Apple Whitewater

Magic Falls Rafting Company

Maine Whitewater

Moxie Outdoor Adventures

New England Outdoor Center

Northeast Guide Service

Northern Outdoors

North Country Rivers

Professional River Runners

Three Rivers Whitewater

Wilderness Expeditions

Windfall Outdoor Center

New Hampshire and Maine (Androscoggin, Magalloway, Rapid Rivers)

ELC Rafting

North Woods Rafting

Raft NH

Massachusetts and Vermont (Concord, Deerfield and West Rivers)

Crab Apple Whitewater

Moxie Outdoor Adventures

Zoar Outdoor

New York (Hudson River)

Adirondac Rafting Company

Adirondack Adventures

Adirondack River Outfitters

Adventure Sports Rafting Company

Beaverbrook Outfitters

Hudson River Rafting Company

North Creek Rafting Company

Sacandaga Outdoor Center

Whitewater Challengers

Whitewater World

Wild Waters Outdoor Center

Hang on for the ride! Class IV rapids on the Deerfield. (Tim Jones photo)

What To Bring

Proper dress for whitewater rafting includes a bathing suit or river shorts that will stay on. That’s all you need in warm weather. If the water’s cold, you’ll wear these under a wetsuit they’ll provide. If you have your own wetsuit or dry suit, by all means bring it.

Footwear: Sneakers you don’t mind getting wet are OK, but river sandals are better. They’ll provide neoprene booties in cold weather. Wool or polypro socks will help keep your feet warm.

On the water, you’ll want cheap sunglasses (in case you lose them) with a retainer. Waterproof sunblock and a brimmed hat are nice if the sun is shining. You spend a lot of time out in the sun at mid-day while rafting.

In Spring and early summer, blackflies and mosquitoes can be a problem—waterproof insect repellent is a good idea.

By all means bring a waterproof camera. If you don’t have one, buy a one-time-use waterproof camera at any good camera shop.

The Crew! All geared up, smiling, and ready to take on the Concord. Left to right: me, Sam, and Joy. (Brian Pytko photo)

The folks at Zoar Outdoor asked themselves that same question 20 years ago, and have been rafting spring rivers in New England ever since.

After an April day of rafting on the Concord River in Lowell, Mass (only 40 minutes from my home in South Boston), I can understand why they’re hooked!

White water rafting is like the most awesome water ride you remember from Six Flags, except ten times better (and ten times longer!). It is the ultimate aquatic roller coaster. Rafting the Concord River not only satisfied my thrill-seeking itch, it also turned out to be a history lesson!

The Concord River, a tributary of the Merrimack only fifteen miles long, is one of the most historically significant rivers in America. Paul Revere rode along its course (a ride you can now repeat on bicycles), and the Battles of Lexington and Concord (the first of the American Revolution) were fought here. The river also played a pivotal role in making Lowell, Massachusetts the birthplace of the American Industrial Revolution. Its mostly-demure waters made it ideal for transporting goods, and the canals built to do so gave Lowell the nickname “the Venice of America.”

But not all of the water is as calm as Henry David Thoreau’s first book, A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers, would have you believe. The more feisty section of the river was our goal when my boyfriend Sam and I headed up from Boston to Lowell, a trip we made by car, but which can easily be accomplished by public transit.

White water rafting on the Concord River starts in early April, when most people are still wearing heavy winter coats. I’ll admit I was nervous about getting into a river when it had snowed only a couple weeks before. To assuage my fears, I packed enough wool clothing to camp in the Arctic tundra. (Zoar recommends you bring wicking layers, but the second pair of wool socks was probably overkill.) Luckily, the Saturday we went saw the first sunny, 60° day of the year, and the wool sweaters and socks were left to bake in the car.

The sunny day wasn’t the only reason I didn’t need my extra layers though. The Concord River  flows north and much of its water bubbles up from under ground. This water has been warmed by the earth, and is noticeably warmer than  rivers that are filled in the spring with snow and ice runoff.

We still needed wetsuits though, which were provided by Zoar Outdoor, along with booties, spray jackets, helmets, PFDs (personal flotation devices, — fancy jargon for life jackets), and, most importantly, river guides! These professionals have not only learned to “read the water,” a valuable skill that takes time and practice, but have, they informed us, also successfully learned to distinguish right from left, and backwards from forwards.

As we went up through the canal, the Merrimack River sprayed through the two hundred year old locks. We could feel the temperature difference between the Concord and the Merrimack, which gets mountain runoff. (Sam Kontny photo)

They taught us these oh-so-technical paddling commands, and before long we were headed into the first rapid: Twisted Sister. Just as I started to think that it would be an easy, fun ride, the nose of our raft plunged down into a big wave. I promptly fell into Sam, and Sam promptly fell into the water. My bad.

Fortunately, falling into the river, although not entirely desirable, isn’t that big a deal. Thanks to his PFD, Sam popped right up. The huge grin on his face told us he wasn’t minding the dunking. Before we’d launched, we’d been taught what to do if (when?) we fell in. We were instructed to get our feet pointed down river, and keep them up. The goal is to float like a board, and use your feet to absorb shocks and bounce off of rocks. Sam did exactly what he was instructed to do and floated through the entire rapid without mishap. We pulled him back into the raft in the next quiet section, and even his sunglasses made it back in good order. Falling into the river, at least when you have a PFD and know how to handle the situation, always turns out to be funny and makes for a good story.

I decided I would leave the glory of falling in to Sam though, so I tucked my feet tighter into to the side of the raft. We made it through the next twp rapids, Three Beauties and Middlesex Dam, with no great to-do, other than the fun, of course.

When we finished Three Beauties, and before the final plunge at Middlesex Dam, it was time to go surfing. I  admit to being extremely confused about this when I heard we were going surfing, since we hadn’t brought surfboards, weren’t anywhere near the ocean, and surfing seemed out of the question anyway. Apparently, it was a different kind of surfing  . . .

Here’s how it works: with a lot of effort on the paddles, especially  from the guide, you slip the nose of your raft into a waterfall where the upwelling currents below the falls holds you in place for some adrenaline pumping, water roaring, wave riding. Great fun!

I enjoyed the surfing immensely, but I’d never seen anyone as excited about nearly being washed away as Joy, a first-timer who accompanied Sam and me in the raft. Her name suited her personality; she couldn’t get enough of the thrill, and her excitement was contagious.

Much to our delight, the other group with us managed to flip their raft while surfing! Watching it from a nearby eddy sent us all into fits of laughter, but I can’t imagine we had any more fun than the men thrown out of their raft.

Double the run, double the fun! The last plunge of Middlesex Dam was more thrilling than any water ride at an amusement park. (Max Thaxton photo)

We surfed several times that afternoon, especially during the second run of the day.

Because the whitewater section of the Concord River is short, you run it twice, not only to double your fun, but to give you a different experience the second time down. At the end of the second run, rafters get an up-close look at the canals and Lower Locks that made Lowell famous.

Here’s how the canals work: you paddle in to the first part of the canal, and volunteers stand at the top of the old, heavy doors to open the “locks.” Water fills the first section of the canal, and the rafts just float up! After the water has risen enough, you paddle into the next section of the canal, and the same thing happens. Eventually we were at the top of the canal, right back at the check-in point where we’d started! A man from the other raft half-jokingly remarked, “Ah, the power of the Industrial Revolution.” It was fun to experience this part of American history firsthand, albeit in an entirely different way than the canals were originally built for.

Climbing out of the rafts and back on the dry land, I was grateful for the amazing day we’d had. Much of it is thanks to the Lowell Parks and Conservation Trust which has started working in tandem with Zoar to keep the Concord clean. Steve Conant, a local man who works closely with the Lowell Parks and Conservation Trust, told Sam and me about their efforts as we walked back to the meeting point.

I had no idea how canals worked until I was the cargo! Even though these canals are roughly 200 years old, they're still in good condition. (Max Thaxton photo)

Steve explained that a portion of all proceeds from Zoar’s rafting trips go to the Conservation Trust, and have not only helped clean up the river, but also built a park across the street from the UMass Lowell Inn and Conference Center where we all met. Presently, they are building a bike trail along the length of the river.

Keeping the Concord River in good shape is not only about preserving an exciting river, it is also about preserving a piece of American history. This white water rafting trip celebrates our history, and is way more fun than any amusement park ride I’ve ever been on.

I can’t wait to continue white water rafting this summer, and I’m so glad I’ve gotten off to an early start. If you’ve never rafted before, you should get there soon so that you can soak up all that this season has to offer. Who knows, Zoar also offers whitwater kayaking clinics, and we might even be in kayaks together soon enough!

I took advantage of the nearly empty slopes to practicing riding "regular" instead of "goofy," with predictable results! (Sam Kontny photo)

On a Tuesday evening, I’m usually heading home from school wishing for the weekend so I’d have something more fun to do than my laundry. I think most people can relate.

This week, I decided, would be different. I’d find a better reason than the next Glee episode to put off doing laundry. Instead of moseying home from campus, I ran back, grabbed my snowboarding gear and boyfriend (in order of importance), and headed to Wachusett Mountain in Princeton, Massachusetts.

On the way to the mountain, Sam and I heard a radio commercial for Wachusett—truth in advertising as we discovered.  This is a great mountain for anyone in the Boston area, only an hour and a half from downtown even with rush-hour traffic, so it’s possible to hit the slopes any day of the week (even Tuesday).

In fact, I would highly recommend trying out Wachusett on a weekday. Every skier dreams of nonexistent lift lines and cheap lift tickets, and the night skiing at Wachusett makes the dream a reality, even for those of us with 9 to 5 work and school schedules.

Sam's getting ready to take on the Smith Walton trail, a 2,000-foot black diamond. (Caroline McDonald photo)

Riding up the lift, we checked out the other skiers who were already on to this secret. They were a hodgepodge of local kids (mostly snowboarders), veteran skiers, racers getting in some weekday practice, and beginning skiers and boarders.

I remembered my first days snowboarding, and sympathized with the new folks out on the mountain. The first few times trying out any new snow sport are enjoyable, but by no means easy. This is especially true on a crowded mountain when you only have the bunny slope to learn on. The benefit to learning or practicing a new downhill sport on a week night at Wachusett in March is that they have plenty of slopes suited for beginning to moderate skiers and those slopes are close to empty.

But the smaller slopes aren’t just for beginners. This night I practiced “riding regular” (I’m usually “goofy”–Sam says in more ways than one).  Sam also encouraged me to check out the terrain park. It was only my second venture into a terrain park, but I should be landing boxes and rails soon enough with a park so close for practice. We’ll have to hurry back out to Wachusett soon, since the season is drawing to a close. But I am here to attest, after night skiing many times during February, that spring is the best time for night skiing.

With no one watching, we gleefully took on this terrain park's jumps and bumps to catch some air. (Caroline McDonald photo)

After the sun sets, temperatures drop to around what is normal for day skiing earlier in the season, still pleasant in other words. I was able to focus on connecting my turns rather than reconnecting with cold-numbed fingers. Night skiing doesn’t have to mean half frozen digits!

Let me debunk another night skiing myth while I’m at it: the snow at Wachusett isn’t ice pretending to be snow. It’s real snow (not even manufactured)! There were a few icy patches, but they were well marked and easily avoided. The folks running Wachusett take good care of the mountain and the skiers on it.

Between the well-lit slopes and readily available lifts (including a high speed quad), Sam and I got in a great evening of snowboarding. I encourage everyone to head out to Wachusett Mountain before their season ends on April 3rd.

For anyone in the Boston area, the drive to Princeton is easy, but a Wachusett Ski Train is also available every Saturday and Sunday. It’s the perfect getaway if you don’t have a car but love to ski and can’t resist a day on the slopes.

Dan gains momentum on skate skis as he and Sam head down one of the bigger hills. Don't be afraid to get some speed, bend your knees, and enjoy the ride! (Caroline McDonald photo.)

Sometimes, you have to move beyond your comfort zone to find outdoor adventure. In this case, my comfort zone was my own bed . . . . 8 o’clock on a Sunday morning rolls around early for everyone, but particularly for college students like me. However, the prospect of snapping into cross-country skis for the first time was more than enough to get me out of bed and moving. Who isn’t excited by the idea of trying out a new sport? Especially when the weather is promising, and two of your best friends are joining you. I roused those friends, Dan and Sam, and we were off to Weston Ski Track, a municipal golf course converted into a winter sports playground conveniently located just outside of Boston. From where I live in Boston’s South End, it’s a quick, 20-minute drive, but is also accessible via the T’s Green Line, D train.

I arrived having no idea what to expect from cross-country skiing and desperately hoping it wasn’t too different from the Alpine skiing I grew up with. One glaring difference became immediately apparent: the price. While a day of downhill skiing with rentals will typically cost you upwards of seventy-five dollars, a whole day of cross-country skiing at Weston requires only a $15 trail pass and another $15 for rentals, including boots, skis or snowshoes, and poles. That’s affordable for almost anyone, even impoverished college kids.

The friendly staff at the rental desk quickly helped us gear up. I was shocked by how thin and lightweight cross-country skis are compared to the downhill skis I’m accustomed to. The boots are also infinitely more comfortable than Alpine ski boots. Cross-country ski boots look and feel like a stiffer version of Air Jordans which were popular in the 80s and are making a comeback now.

Cross country skis are affordable to rent at Weston. They are lightweight and much less intimidating than downhill skis. (Caroline McDonald photo)

My fear of being the obvious amateur was unfounded. Snow enthusiasts of all skill levels visit Weston. While seasoned triathletes were just finishing the last stretch of a race, my friends and I were lacing up our rental boots next to a toddler in a one-piece, yellow snow outfit. I figured if he was out there, anyone could be.

Armed with skis, boots, and height-appropriate poles, plus a trail map, Dan, Sam and I hit the snow. Weston has a flat beginner area ( the cross-country equivalent of a bunny slope)  right outside the door for anyone who wants to ease into the day. I wanted to take one of the beginner lessons Weston  offered, but my friends, who had cross-country skied before, insisted I didn’t need one. They were right! I’ll take a lesson next time to improve my form and efficiency now that I know how much fun it is.

Falling down doesn't hurt. It just makes for funny photos! (Caroline McDonald photo)

Cross-country turned out to be nothing like Alpine skiing. Basic or “classic” cross-country skiing is incredibly simple and easy to learn. I’m sure the lessons are beneficial, especially if you are nervous about trying new things, but I had fun figuring it out myself on my first day. I followed the best and most basic athletic advice my dad ever gave me: “bend your knees!” It served me well that day, and now I pass it on to you for your first cross-country ski experience. Thanks, Dad!.

The lightweight cross-country skis and boots allow you to walk  in them right away. Our skis had scales on the bottom which let us walk right up the gentle hills. What a triumphant feeling when you reach the top, take a look around at the snowy hills, and then gleefully slide down! Even though this was my first experience, I was able to keep up with Dan and Sam.

After exploring the track closest to the lodge for a warmup, we ventured across a rustic wooden bridge over the frozen Charles River and skied on the more remote Goat and Fox Tracks. A few houses are visible through the trees here, but otherwise I could hardly believe we were only 20 minutes from the bustling South End.

One of the great things about Weston is that the low-cost rental fee allows you to try any of the sports offered. After about an hour and a half, Dan traded in his “classic” cross-country skis for skate skis. I’d never seen or even heard of skate skis before visiting Weston! Their name is self-explanatory; wearing them, you skate with the same diagonal stride as ice skating. They are speedier than cross-country skis, and can provide more of a cardiovascular workout if you so desire. Trying them out myself looks like a good excuse to go back.

After Dan’s adventure on skate skis, we couldn’t resist trying snowshoeing, too. But first we stopped to nosh on the delicious, cheap food offered by a little tiki hut outside of the lodge. Yes, you read correctly: delicious and cheap food at a ski lodge! I didn’t know such a thing existed! Weston offers a serious change-up from typical ski-lodge food: everything from Kosher hot dogs to homemade coleslaw. I bought a fresh, Mediterranean salad, and Dan indulged in a skewer of grilled lamb ($7.50!). Properly nourished, we geared up for snowshoeing.

The snowshoes let us take on the tallest, iciest hill we could find. (Caroline McDonald photo)

As a new adventurer, I was delighted to discover that if you can walk, you can snowshoe. Except for digging your spikes into the sides of hills, there isn’t much to it. The fun of clunking around in our new footwear, scaling icy hills, and, in my case, slipping down them on my rear, masked our exhaustion for a while, but eventually we realized it was time to head home.

Weston is an energetic, and friendly ski area, a real urban oasis. Renting your gear  is easy, the people are nice. A friendly staff member even offered us advice for an upcoming camping trip we are all planning.

I ended my day feeling invigorated by my wind-burnt cheeks and sore muscles. I couldn’t wait to share my experience with anyone who’d listen. Imagine, a cheap day of fun outdoor exercise readily available just outside of Boston! I can’t wait for my next trip back to try out skate skis! I’m going to drag some more of my friends out of their comfort zone and get them to try it, too. Want to join us?