Celebrate National Trails Day!

Well, the hiking has slowed down a bit this month, but Saturday we have a really good excuse to get back onto a trail ... and so does everyone else. It's the annual National Trails Day, courtesy of the American Hiking Society, and there are plenty of events to choose from no matter where you live.

Here in Central Massachusetts we're leaning toward attending the grand opening of a new hiking trail, which I figured would be very apropos for the occasion. It's the Walnut Hill Trail in Southborough, overseen by the Sudbury Valley Trustees.

That leads me into a couple of points/recent discoveries from this continually wonderful experience of the outdoors. For one, I continue to stumble upon cool trails right here in the heart of Worcester, which as Sara pointed out is often overlooked as a major city -- the second largest in New England (yeah, we're looking at you, Providence and Hartford). One of Saturday's events is a roundtrip traverse of the East Side Trail, which winds its way from a city park on "hip" Shrewsbury Street all the way to Lake Quinsigamond ... but at more than 6 miles we'll be skipping that, perhaps saving for a one-way trek another time.

The other nice recent finding is the Trustees of Reservations. Just to add to an already-packed state parks and forest bucket list of destinations, the Trustees oversee a ton of great places in its aim to "preserve, for public use and enjoyment, properties of exceptional scenic, historic, and ecological value in Massachusetts."
That includes cool spots like Doane's Falls and Royalston Falls in Royalston, along the 22-mile Tulley Trail Loop that I'm keenly eyeing. Maybe a solo hike as a birthday present to myself. (Arlen)

Chasing Waterfalls at Cascades Park

There were two surprises, and I can't decide which was greater:
1) That we had lived in Worcester for eight years (12 for me, counting college) without any knowledge of the Cascades Trails System.
2) That my 5-year-old daughter could be the model of resilience and bravery in the face one scary-steep hill, numerous rambunctious dogs, and being forced to hike sans pants for most of the afternoon.

A friend who heard about our weekend hiking jaunts suggested we check out the Cascades, a series of trails in Worcester's northwest corner managed by the Greater Worcester Land Trust comprising Boynton Park, Cascades West, Cascades East, Cascades Park and -- the main attraction -- Cascading Waters. We first headed over there on Easter Sunday, but our hike was quickly aborted after Jordyn got a traumatic leg injury, aka a scratch. Several weeks later, we managed a hike in earnest, accompanied by my sister, aka Auntie Massachusetts-California-Massachusetts-California-Massachusetts, who was thrilled to be outside on this glorious spring day after being welcomed home last week by so much New England rain.

Our plan was to park at the Cascading Waters entrance, check out the falls, and then follow a loop that led along the Cascades, the Silver Spring and Meadow Ridge trails.

We were lured by the sound of falling water almost as soon as we hit the trail. After a short jaunt by a stream and across a road, we were greeted by the breathtaking sight of water tumbling down dozens of rocks (left, the BlackBerry photo doesn't quite do justice to the steepness). It's what we had come to see, and we were awestruck. From there was a daunting hill leading to the trail heads. A sign posted on a tree warned hikers that this hill was closed due to erosion, but we decided to tackle it nonetheless. (Heeding the sign would've meant approaching the trails from a different entrance and prolonging our start.) Needless to say, it didn't take long before we discovered the sign was -- as most warnings are -- there for a reason. This hill was steep, slippery and scary, with plenty of rocks, roots, and both slippery dry and slimy wet leaves to impede any climber's efforts. Arlen and Jordyn went first, and made it up OK, she holding his hand and seemingly undaunted by the steep drop behind her. Coffee cups in our hands made for slower going for my sister and me; we clung to branches and grabbed hold of roots to steady ourselves as we made our way up. Finally, we reached the top. Glancing behind me (yikes!), I wondered how I -- how WE -- had managed that.

Moving on! We found ourselves on a lovely, easy-to-follow trail. The birds were singing, the brooks were babbling ... leisurely hiking at its best. After we'd been going for about 15 minutes, Jordyn announced she had to pee. No matter; I had gone in the woods a little while back, and I assured her she could do the same. Unfortunately, even though she's a voracious reader, she hasn't yet gotten around to "How to Pee in the Woods," and she soaked her pants. I assumed she'd insist on leaving, but no! She was perfectly willing to shed her pants and hike in her underwear with her hoodie tied around her waist.

As we descended deeper into the woods, it did start to feel a little chilly. Jordyn did mention her legs were cold, but at no point did she ask to turn around. Nor did she bat an eyelash when several of the dogs we met on the trail slobbered all over her. (My sister and I, on the other hand, pitched a minor fit when one large canine deposited copious amounts of slime on our pants -- ironic, since we are both basset hound lovers, and they don't come much more slobbery than that.)

After another half hour or so, Jordyn's pants had nearly dried. It was then that  my thumb accidentally punctured the cup I was holding, spraying Dunkin' Donuts coffee all over the pants and soaking them anew. At this point Jordyn was so used to be being pants-less that it didn't much matter.

After about an hour and a half, we stopped to ask passers-by how far we were from the next trail. Turns out we had more ahead of us than we realized at this point, so we didn't end up completing the loop as planned. By this point Jordyn's pants were nearly dry and she was relieved to have them for her now-chilly legs. As we backtracked along the trail we came on, we bided our time looking for things we had passed amusing ourselves with silly songs. Well, I did. Pretty soon, we heard the sounds of the falls and knew we had made it.

As for getting back down that crazy hill, each of us had our own method. Let's just say I "fell" a bit "behind." (Sara)

Proud Times at Purgatory Chasm

It's never easy as a parent knowing when to loosen the leash on your child. You always want to protect them from harm or getting hurt. But kids are such adventurous creatures - it's part of why hiking should have some natural appeal for getting them to spend time outdoors!

At Purgatory Chasm State Reservation in Sutton, there's "danger" at just about every turn. Maybe that's why it's about the most fun yet I've had hiking with my 5-year-old daughter, Jordyn. But it wasn't easy. I had to keep telling myself, "It's OK, let her go - there's no way she's not leaving this place without some scrapes."

Purgatory is one of the coolest natural wonders in Massachusetts. It would certainly rank high if there were a vote. The main attraction is a quarter-mile corridor of granite rock formations and stone walls as high as 70 feet, perfect for kids who like to hop, climb and scramble over the potentially treacherous terrain. And I'm lucky enough to live about 15 minutes away from it, only I hadn't been there in seven or eight years. On a day off from work during school vacation, I took Jordyn there.

The place's popularity was evident by the packed parking lot and swarm of parents, teens and kids on the trail. There are actually some quieter peripheral trails through the woods, but I was particularly looking forward to feeding Jordyn's fondness for rocks. Plus the trail was truly cool -- there were a half-dozen or so spots whose cave-like features made standing there about 15 degrees cooler than the rest of the way.

The funny part is that Jordyn did her biggest damage before we even began the trail, tripping over a root. After shaking that off, she was good to go, and I did my best to hold my tongue as we trod along. Some of the time I held her hand or arm, but mostly she had free reign and most of the time, she wanted to take the lead -- even when we took a path all the way up to the area that overlooked the chasm (trails lead around its rim, as well, but we quickly went back down).

Well somehow we managed to go through the chasm and back without any fractures, breaks, bruises or cuts. Some minor scrapes and some dirty hands were well worth it for the fun time. I couldn't have been prouder of my little girl! Even though we're trying to hit as many state parks and forests as possible, we'll have to head back to Purgatory soon ... just not during school vacation. (Arlen)

Winding Down the Road at Wells

Sometimes hikes don't turn out as planned. That was the case last weekend when we went to Wells State Park in Sturbridge. Oh, it seemed like a pleasant place to go hiking ... only we tired ourselves out before we got there.

It started out good enough. We met up with my parents and had breakfast at a nearby cafe, and they were ready to join us for our latest Weekends in the Woods outing. I'm very fortunate to have parents who are still in great shape -- and exuberant -- at their age.

And they probably got in a little more walking than they bargained for. You see, when we pulled onto the road that leads to the park entrance, it was blocked off by some cones and a "road closed" sign. It was beautiful out, though, so I figured we could walk to the park. Unfortunately I hadn't checked the map too well -- it was at least a mile, maybe more, down a windy road to get there. We saw a couple of cars pass by, too, which was slightly annoying because 1) obviously some people were just dismissing the closed sign and pressing on and 2) there were a couple of other roads off Route 49 (the major road to get there) that also led to the park entrance, more indirectly.

Still, we were all in good spirits following our version of the yellow brick road. Jordyn posed with Grandma and Papa for an action shot (above). But when we got to the entrance we were pretty pooped. Jordyn was not about to head into the woods for a loop trail. In fact, my dad, Sara and Jordyn stayed behind while my mom and I trekked back up the road and got the car -- the little girl was begging to be carried up the hilly way back, and that wasn't gonna happen.

So the paved road turned into our hike for the day. We did manage to do some frog-spotting just past the entrance, in the marshy area of one of the ponds, a celebratory occasion for Sara since she'd been keeping her eye out for them since we started our outdoors initiative, only to come up empty on every previous outing. We'll head back at some point for the real trails, but for this trip we'll settle for being grateful of the guest appearances, both human and amphibian. (Arlen)

 

Quiet Time at Quinsigamond State Park

I can't say that Quinsigamond State Park is my favorite state park in Massachusetts, but it's definitely my most visited, specifically the Lake Park portion. You see, Lake Park is virtually across the street from our house. There's another portion of "Quinsig" farther down the road, on the other side of where Route 9 divides Lake Avenue in Worcester (and that area, Regatta Point, is essentially just a beach front and head of the many regattas that Quinsig hosts). But Lake Park is on our side, and I'm glad it is -- it's a perfect place to walk laps along the oval that circumnavigates the park about 1 1/4 miles around, with almost half of it a stone's throw off the lake and its pleasant views as you go.



For almost five years, it was the perfect place for me to walk our basset hound Izzy every morning, with full laps on weekend mornings. Many times before work it served as a placid locale for viewing pink-hued sunrises. I've traversed Lake Park hundreds of times, so that alone makes it a special state park destination.

But last Saturday, Jordyn and I took a different path on a morning walk in Lake Park. We carefully tread down the woods path that led right to the water's edge. There's also a beach area at Lake Park, and my hope was that we could "hike" along the edge safely to the beach about a quarter mile away.

Unfortunately, we couldn't. About halfway there, the path disappeared so we took a detour back uphill through the woods. Jordyn wanted to get to the beach, so we kept going on our little journey, and I decided we would work our way back along the water's edge and see how far that took us (I was hoping to reach one of the natural paths that lead from the highland walking trail down through the woods). Again, we started out well but Jordyn decided we should head up to the trail -- only there was no path to do so where we stood. So in essence, we bushwhacked it, on our hands and knees, clinging to branches, roots and rocks as we made our way up.

All in all, it was a quick adventure and our grand total distance didn't even equate to the full loop around the park. But it was a path we'd never taken in a place we visit all the time, and going that much closer to the water and its little islands made this go-around that much more peaceful. Just goes to show, there's always room to explore what's right around the corner. (Arlen)

Sunday Serenity at the Sanctuary

Arlen's and my move to Worcester in the spring of 2004 was a poignant one. We had been living out of state, and I hadn't been happy. Then came a job opportunity in the city in which I had attended college, a city where I never envisioned myself. Yet once we arrived here it felt almost like a rebirth -- a feeling that was echoed in the signs of spring bursting forth on the "country living in the city" property where we rented an apartment. Once we were able to stop swooning over the turtle pond (oh my god, turtles!) at the entrance of the complex, one of the first places we had the pleasure of discovering was a nearby (at 1.42 miles away, make that very nearby) National Audubon Society property called Broad Meadow Brook Conservation Center and Wildlife Sanctuary.

These 430 acres nestled in a residential neighborhood on Worcester's east side quickly became one of my favorite places to visit -- though I realized recently it had been quite some time since I had been there. Thankfully, last weekend presented the perfect opportunity to return. With rain in the forecast for our hiking day, we decided to stick close to home. (Indeed, our current home is less than three miles from the sanctuary.)

When we arrived at Broad Meadow Brook at 8:30 Sunday morning, we weren't surprised to find the parking lot empty and the nature center locked. No matter; we were happy to have the place to ourselves. As we paused at the information booth to reacquaint ourselves with the trail maps, I breathed in the crisp early spring air and was reminded why I love this place so much: bright, easy-to-read displays; neatly labeled plants and flowers around the visitors' center; easy-to-traverse trails punctuated by babbling brooks, plenty of benches and the occasional wooden footbridge; and no shortage of beautiful bird songs. Let alone Broad Meadow Brook's power to make visitors forget they are anywhere near New England's second-largest city.

As we descended the path away from the nature center, we were greeted by the sight of lovely sculptures ("Portals" by Carolyn Lewenberg) hanging on trees. Crafted from vines, tires and stainless steel bowls, these quirky creations were nothing short of fabulous. After pausing for photos and a go on one of several wooden glider swings, Arlen and I decided to take Jordyn on a loop from the Holdredge Trail to the Sprague to the Frog Pond Trail -- three of 12 from which to choose. (Sadly on this visit, no amount of searching would yield any frog sightings; but peering into the water with high hopes is half the fun, anyway.) While the trees were still bare, the woods were bursting with greenery that Arlen and I dubbed cabbage (come to think of it, it probably was cabbage). The birds' chorus was as loud as I've ever heard, rivaled at points only by Jordyn's chatter and the rude awakening of a dirt bike motoring (illegally) down the trail ahead of us.

There's much to do at Broad Meadow Brook beyond hiking: indoor art and photography exhibits, the annual bird-a-thon and butterfly festivals, summer camp; and myriad volunteer opportunities. Now that we've rediscovered this local gem, we plan to take full advantage of all it offers. Country living in the city, indeed! (Sara)

Cabbage?

Jordyn found many rocks to climb along the way.

Up and at 'Em at Upton State Forest

OK, so maybe a 3.3-mile hike wasn't the most prudent choice for just our third outing as a family ... but, hey, 3.3 for hike No. 3? I like the numbers.

Then again, I had no idea really how long our hike into Upton State Forest was going to be. Sure, I could have eyeballed it using the small half- and quarter-inch scale on the PDF I printed out. But the hike looked innocent enough, being the main recommended path in the park. Loops are always nice, and this one was also marked as a "road" rather than one of the hiking trails -- wide enough for usage by bicyclists (saw a few of those) and horses (saw plenty of fresh "evidence," though no actual animals).

The loop that took us out to placid Dean Pond and back was relatively painless, unless you want to count the back pain that's been nagging me for a week now. I wouldn't let that slow me down, though, since walking helps ease it much more than sitting. For the most part, Jordyn was a good sport about the longish route, including finding a killer walking stick that I used toward the end. The highlight, for me at least, was when the two of us climbed up a good hunk of stone for a photo opp.

Actually, I would have loved to check out the real "Mammoth Rock" that lends its name to one of the offshoot trails, but we passed that trailhead toward the end and were ready to hit the parking lot. Overall I got the impression that Upton has plenty to offer, maybe not so much in exciting visuals, but in the sheer number of hikes available (there were many trails off the main paths) and the accessibility especially for family hiking.

Oh, and one more "3" related item -- Upton was great for dog spotting, including the three-legged canine we passed who was missing his right hind leg. Now there's a trooper. (Arlen)