Day 13,
Wednesday, October 20, 2021
The road brought me to Adams for one reason only, its proximity to Mount Greylock, the highest point in Massachusetts. There are two ways to get to the top. You can drive, then walk across a parking lot, or you can hike in. Considering the weather, I chose to walk.
The route I chose is named the Cheshire Harbor Trail. From the trailhead, it’s a steady 3.3 mile climb. It starts out easy enough. There are plenty of rocks to step over, but you can maintain a fairly decent pace.
As you climb, the rocks get a little larger and the trail turns into a shallow stream. It just means you have to watch your step a little more, especially in the muddy patches.
Around the two and a half mile point, it joint the Appalachian Trail north. Now it’s a little steeper with larger rocks acting like stairs.
Eventually, you cross the road again for the final stretch.
The trail finally ends across the road from the Veteran's Memorial. The tower was partially obscured by fog when I arrived, but that burned off quickly enough.
The tower from the inside...
The view from above...
The stairway down...
With my thirtieth state high point behind me, it was time for the hike back down. Somehow the mud seemed even thicker on the way down.
It was almost 1P when I made it back to the car. The GPS said the motel was an hour away, so I had plenty of time. But, what to do? Across town is Natural Bridge State Park. It sounded perfect. But alas, it was closed for the season.
Seen on the exterior wall of a Goodwill in Adams.
It was still early afternoon. I had read about Chesterfield Gorge. It looked like an hour out, and another hour back. It seemed a bit out of the way for such a short visit, Instead, I drove to the town of Cheshire to check out the cheese.
When Thomas Jefferson became President in 1801, there was a fear among the evangelicals of the time that he would undermine the churches and sweep religion out of the country. Baptist Pastor John Leland wasn't buying it. He had met and campaigned for Jefferson. He came up with an idea to show the nation religious folks still believed in him.
Every dairy farmer in Chester chipped in milk from nine hundred cows. A cider press was reworked to create a giant cheese press. The result, a block of cheese weighing 1,235 pounds. At four feet across and fifteen inches thick, Leland declared it the "greatest cheese ever put to press."
Due to its size, it had to be floated downriver on a barge, then onto a horse drawn carriage from Baltimore to Washington. It was presented to President Jefferson on New Years Day, 1802.
There's a monument to the cheese, though not exactly to scale...
By this point, it was already late afternoon and I was thinking food. The Barrington Brewery was a few miles away. They also serve food, so the decision was easy.
I found the brewery easily enough. I just wasn’t expecting this sign.
And they do take it seriously. Just inside the door, I was asked for proof of my vaccination status. In anticipation of this possibility, I had taken a photo of my vaccination card. They were patient as I scrolled through two weeks of vacation photos to find it. That’s when the owner told me, “Carol at the bar will take care of you.” And she did!
The day was waning as I left the brewery. Having passed a pond a half mile back, that was my next stop.
Just up the road, in Great Barrington was the Monument Mountain Motel. It’s owned by the same family who runs the neighboring Marriott Fairfield Inn and the Days Inn up the street. For a room on a main road, it was pretty quiet. It was also really clean.
As sunset approached, I took the camera out and walked around to the back of the motel. That’s where I met Gary. He’s a regular at the motel and comes out for sunset, too. While I bring a camera, he brings rum.
Sunset wasn’t all that spectacular, but the conversation more than made up for it. Somewhere along the way, Gary became fascinated with New England history of the 1740’s. This was the decade before the French and Indian War, and Native American culture was still thriving. He's also fascinated with museums and told me about a few he's found in his travels.
The conversation lasted over an hour, until the rum started taking its toll and Gary called it a night. I did, too.
Coming Up,
Seven Miles of Bad Road
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