Entering the Bearsden

I spent this last week visiting my family in Massachusetts. For the first time in over a year I gazed upon familiar terrain, without unknown risks!

Most of the week was cold, grey, and rainy- typical New England weather. I had decided that I was going to spend time outside regardless of the weather. My mother wanted to wander around the area she grew up near, called "Bearsden Conservation Area" located in Athol, MA.

It was strange for me to go hiking in an area I was very familiar with, it had been over a year since I had returned. Driving up to the empty parking lot made me miss the few cars always present at any trailhead in Colorado, no matter what day of the week!

We headed out into the dreary, damp New England woods, with no specific destination. There was a very strong chance of showers, so I took the precaution of bringing raingear, and a plastic garbage bag for my camera.

The smell of the woods was very familiar yet strange, I spent last fall hiking all over Colorado, and let me tell you the woods smell very different in the fall. The ground was very spongy,
and sunk with each step, as we trekked to the top of Bemis Hill.

My mother told me that this hill used to be covered in black walnut trees when she was a kid. She grew up playing in these woods with her childhood neighbor Ricky. This hike, though short, was a walk down memory lane for her, and I heard some interesting stories. She recounted the time they played Daniel Boone and borrowed a cow from Ricky's father's farm. They penned up the poor cow, and then as children usually do--got distracted and forgot she was up there. Ricky's father heard the cow mooing up in the woods, and was quite angry with them.

After reaching the summit of the hill, we went off trail down the backside of hill towards Millers River, eventually finding ourselves at the Oxbow. I had never seen the river so flooded, apparently there has been record rainfall this year.

We walked along the edge of the river for a ways, then crossed over a stream...or rather I crossed the stream... my mom took off her shoes and waded through.

Across the stream, we found a small fishing hut.

We sat there for a few moments then followed the 'old stage coach' road back to the main trail, and the parking lot. About 5 mins from the shack it began to pour, luckily we brought the raingear.

I wish I had been able to do more hiking while visiting, or that the weather would have complied. It was great to visit New England, see my friends and family, remember childhood, and enjoy the smell of the damp autumnal woods.