Although sometimes I post about cycling in general, I rarely talk about my own particular cycling experiences. When I have something interesting to report, it’ll usually find its way onto my Cycling Training Diary, but not here. This time, however, I’d like to share the details of a recent ride with you, because I have more to say about it than is appropriate for my Training Diary.
But first, of course, I have to tell you about my philosophy, the role cycling has in my life, my motivators, and so forth. How could it be any other way?
One of my primary philosophies of life is that an “adventure” is just doing something you’ve never done before. It can be as simple as going to a different grocery store; the key is that you’re taking risks, learning, and growing, and taking risks, in whatever increment. As an aside, I wrote a great deal about this personal belief as the primary theme in a two-part story I wrote for DargonZine back in 1994 called “Love an Adventure”.
One of the things I value most about cycling is that it fulfils this sense of adventure for me. One of my favorite ways to start a ride is to pick an place I’ve never been to that I’ve heard about or that looks interesting on the map, and just ride there. Cycling enables me to discover all kinds of fabulous new spots that I wouldn’t normally find or be motivated to drive to. I’ve found many such magical places in and around Boston, and finding them and visiting them are sure ways to improve my mood and help me re-center myself. Of course, it goes without saying that cycling also gives me a much better understanding of the region where I live.
With all that said, I want to tell you about the ride I took this past Tuesday. On one hand, it was really nothing special: just another weekday ride around the area. Yet at the same time, it had a very dramatic effect on my mood. I got explore several new spots, push my physical limits, get in touch with nature, enjoy a warm spring day, and most importantly have an adventure.
The weather report said that we were going to reach the high 60s, perhaps even 70, for the first time all year. After a brutal winter that saw two record-shattering snowfalls in February and snowfall on six of the first nine days of April, it was definitely a day to be out on the bike. It also was very windy, which makes cycling difficult, but is an element of nature that I have always enjoyed.
My cycling goal for the day was modest in terms of mileage: about 24 miles. However, it wasn’t all about miles; my goal was to climb 635-foot Great Blue Hill, the biggest hill in Massachusetts east of Mount Wachusett. Hills are more important than miles in a cyclist’s training regimen, and I’d already practiced many times on Arlington’s 350-foot Park Avenue hill and Brookline’s lower but steeper Summit Avenue. Having handled those, I posted to the MassBike list inquiring about other, more challenging hills, and Great Blue Hill was one those mentioned. So today was the day to scout it out, and I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect.
I left home a little after 9am, carving my way through Boston’s trendy Back Bay. Along the way, I passed the newly-opened Lindt chocolate store (where I’ve already dropped more than $40, not including about $15 worth of freebies) and the soon to open mega Shaws supermarket that will replace my crowded little Star Market underneath the Prudential Center. I also crossed over the last half-block of the route this week’s Boston Marathon will take. Every year the street is re-paved and the finish line re-painted for the marathon. Interesting developments all over the neighborhood!
At Mass Ave, I hopped the Pierre Lallemant path that goes down the Southwest Corridor parallel to the MBTA’s Orange Line and out of the city. For me, that path is like the gateway from the urban cluster of Back Bay to the parks and suburbs south and west of town. It’s an interesting mix of urban and rural. In most places it’s tree-lined and pleasant, running through broad grassy areas, but there are many cross-streets, and it also takes you through urban playgrounds, behind the police headquarters, through some projects, and along seven subway stops. But from my vantage point, it’s the segue from the city to the parks south of Boston.
The Lallemant path dumps you off right near the entrance to the Arnold Arboretum, which was my first stop. I have a particular white pine tree that I always sit by. It’s located just off the Conifer Path, and has a wonderful view, looking across a valley to Hemlock Hill. In the midst of the valley is a sparkling stream that is spanned by a couple gracefully-curved footbridges. On this particular morning, the scene was idyllic. The morning sun was starting to warm the air, giving bit of magic to everything around. Even the swampy poor-drainage area looked lush and alive; one of the copper tags that identified a distant tree’s species glinted in the sunshine. I sat there taking in the view and meditating for quite some time,
appreciating the beauty of nature and letting my other worries fade into the background. The Arboretum is a wonderful place to ride, as well as rest. There are two respectable hills, both of which offer views of the now-distant Boston skyline.
Those were the more familiar, if not routine, parts of my ride. From there, I took off down the Claire Saltonstall Bikeway, which runs all the way from Boston to Provincetown, on the tip of Cape Cod. As I rode down the mostly-wooded Enneking Porkway through the Stony Brook Reservation, I noticed a dock jutting out into what I discovered to be Turtle Pond, my first interesting new place of the day. In no hurry, I swung about and rode out onto the dock, evicting three ducks and a goose from that sunny spot on the water. By now, the sun was really coming into its strength, and I could easily have hung out on the pond for an hour or two, enjoying it. It was great to find such a quiet little oasis in a place where most people would drive by and never
stop. There are other routes through the Stony Brook Reservation, as well, and I will have to check those out on a future ride.
After a short stop, I continued on toward the Blue Hills. Along the way, I passed the entrance to the old Burma Road, which local cycling advocate Doug Mink had pointed out to us on his East Cost Greenway ride during last year’s Bike Week. I decided that if I had time on the way back, I’d explore it and see where it led.
Not far beyond that, I reached Route 138, which was where the access road up Great Blue Hill was located. I took a quick breather, jumped down to my lowest gear, and started up the narrow but well-paved mile-long road. It was a good, steep challenge, but well within my capabilities, and I accomplished my goal of riding it without stopping or turning away. However, it did force me to get out of the saddle and stand a few times, which is something I’m trying to do more of anyways, because it’s not something I’m very comfortable doing. There is a ski slope on the west side, and it was a little strange to look down on the upper end of the ski lift as I rode up the ascent. There was still quite a bit of snow lingering on the western slope, too, but overall the road was heavily wooded and very picturesque.
Great Blue Hill is not only the tallest peak in the Blue Hills, but it is also the highest point on the United States’ eastern coast south of Maine. At the summit, there are two facilities. There’s a weather station, which was closed when I got there, but I puttered around that for a bit, exploring. Down a side path is the more interesting observatory. It’s an odd little building made of mortared fieldstone, with a viewing tower that puts you (mostly) above the tree line. From there you can see the distant Boston skyline, the Harbor Islands, Houghtons and Ponkapaug ponds, and on a good day you can see Mount Wachusett. That was my second interesting discovery of the day, and both for the scenery as well as the challenging climb, I definitely plan to be back!
The descent was actually a little tricker than coming up, because the road was still covered with some of the gravel that had been put down to give park rangers’ trucks traction to get up to the weather station throughout the winter. That made it a little sketchy for me, but it was still fun to let the bike go as much as I dared. It definitely calls for good brakes and strong nerves, though!
Heading back home, I decided that I would indeed stop and check out the old Burma Road for the first time, my third adventure of the day. It is an unpaved but easily rideable path, and it soon became evident that it goes right through the center of a pretty extensive swamp. Still, the path was dry and it was too early in the season for the bugs to be out. There was, however, one place where a stream drained across the path. The only way across was a bridge made out of two two-by-six inch planks. I tiptoed my bike across, pretending that it was cyclocross portaging practice. I was enjoying the sun and had plenty of time, so I kept on going, stopping every few dozen yards to take a picture, because the swamp was actually quite visually interesting. It was also pretty well stocked with
noisy frogs, and every so often I came across horseshoe prints in the path. But I only saw one human—a jogger—while I was there.
The path runs almost perfectly straight south for two miles, where it ends right on the margin of Route 128, the eight-lane superhighway that encircles Boston. Interestingly, it actually dumps you onto the approach ramp of an abandoned former highway interchange, complete with the proverbial “Bridge to Nowhere”, a fully-functional two-lane bridge over the highway. I rode across, but both side of the road just dead-end, so back I turned.
On the return trip, I stopped again at the Arboretum to enjoy the afternoon sun, and was joined by a hovering raptor.
All told, I really enjoyed Tuesday’s sunny ride. It was magical spending so much time in natural areas, and I particularly savored finding and exploring a handful of new, interesting parts of Eastern Mass. Yes, it was an adventure, by my criteria, and well worth the effort. At the same time, even though this ride was so wonderful, it really is a pretty typical ride. My rides frequently are just this special, and I’ve literally found dozens of such places.
The point of posting about it? Just to share that enjoyment with you; I hope you can empathize. My car-bound friends find it hard to relate to my enthusiasm when I describe some of the really great places and scenery that are found in the blank spaces between the roads on their maps. And I really feel sad for them, because they never find the many natural wonders that are so close to them, but which they can’t see because they’re limited to where the highways can take them.
Cycling is my way to find adventure and enjoy all those hidden places, and it gives so much for so little and such pleasant effort. And there’s always more places to explore, and you’d be surprised just how many amazing sights there are within an easy day ride. Next time out maybe I’ll spend more time checking out the Stony Brook Reservation itself, and go a little further down the Saltonstall route to visit Ponkapaug Pond, and then see what’s beyond the next hill, and maybe the one after that…
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
