Archeology is not what you find. It’s what you find out.
-David Hurst Thomas, Archeologist
Continued from previous blog…
Waldo and I have now walked the entire unimproved gap between the northern and southern section of the Assebet River Rail Trail, except for a small piece, about 0.2 miles long, that runs from the end of the northern part to the river. We leave Honey Pot Hill Farm and drive the short distance to where that piece starts and heads south. We drive to where the street crosses the end of the private road that is the last bit of the northern section of the trail and just across the road is a wide spot where there are three cars parked. It looks like a launching point for boats to be put in the river.
On one side of the parking spot, I can clearly see a well-trod foot trail that runs on the top of what was once the railroad bed. I see no obvious reason for the path, other than to satisfy the curiosity of explorers like Waldo and I. The rails that once ran there are long gone, but I can still feel old weather-beaten rotting railroad ties under a blanket of dead leaves. The walking isn’t difficult and there isn’t much bushwhacking that needs to be done. There is one spot where the trail dips down toward the water and someone has made a rudimentary footbridge with several ten-foot-long branches, each about six inches in diameter. Because of our recent drought, the dip is dry and we don’t bother trying to negotiate the bridge.
We get to the river and things are much like the spot on the other side where the railroad bed meets the water. Nothing is left but a few large stones and a steep slope down to the water. Across the river, I can clearly see where the other end of the bridge used to be. I recognize where I stood and looked out to where I now stand. Our trek is done. Waldo and I have now walked, as much as we can without swimming, the entire length of what used to be the Marlborough Branch of the Fitchburg Railroad.
I feel a little bit like an archeologist at a dig sight. I take in all I’ve seen, and what I’ve researched online, and try to paint a mental picture of what it must have been like to ride a train that ran on this roadbed. A rickety, clanking metal behemoth is pulling several wooden cars along while belting out steam, smoke and lots of noise. I’m swaying precariously from side to side, lurching forward and backward, on my way to connect to a train that will take me to Boston and points beyond. Maybe I’m headed to town to do some kind of business or other, or I’m heading out to join the Massachusetts volunteer army to fight Johnny Reb. I look around me and imagine that the world I’m moving through is still relatively pristine – none of man’s developments, like paved roads, automobiles, so many houses and other buildings, have happened yet. If Waldo were with me, he’d be on vacation from working a herd of sheep, probably preferring to be doing just that.
Back at the car, I decide to drive to the Honey Pot Hill Farm store and see if anyone there can tell me why they oppose the filling of the gap and completing the entire rail-trail. The store has loads of apples in bags for sale and pies of various kinds, like apple, “jumbleberry” and pumpkin. I look around and make a mental note to come back and shop another time. I then find a woman there who is supposed to know something about the issues and we discuss her take on things for a couple of minutes.
I don’t get her name and I don’t know her relationship to the owners. She tells me that there are basically two things that keep the orchard from allowing the completion of the trail – theft and liability. Neither makes much sense to me because the orchard is not fenced in anywhere now and people can come and go as they want. I can’t see where allowing the few people who would be interested to use the trail would cause a bigger problem of liability or theft than they have right now, but I don’t argue. I get the feeling that it’s just another case of NIMBYism (Not IN MY Back Yard) and a desire to protect themselves from having their privacy “violated.” That doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to me because the orchard is already a place that’s open to the public. But, maybe, I just don’t understand.
Waldo and I now have an intimate idea of what the entire trail is like. Even if we can’t walk the entire Assebet River Rail Trail as a continuous, improved path, we do still have plenty we can enjoy.
And we do.