January 14, 2026

 

It is good to have an end to journey towards; but it is the journey that matters, in the end.

-Ursula K. Le Guin

 

So here we are, on the last leg of our prolonged journey.

A little over 6 years ago, Waldo, Christine, Karen (a friend of Christine’s) and I first put foot on the Mass Central Rail Trail near the town of Northampton.  At the time, we were walking across Massachusetts from the New York border, near Pittsfield, to the tip of Cape Cod.  We were able to accomplish that in about 6 months.  In the process, we followed highways, streets and any other route than ran from where we were to where we wanted to end up.  Just west of Northampton, the maps on our phones showed a rail trail, going in the right direction, and we took it.  It ran from there, across the Connecticut River on an old railroad bridge and on past Amherst to Belchertown, where it stopped.  From Belchertown, we had to resort to streets and highways again.

That piece of rail trail is part of the Mass Central Rail Trail, but it is also known as the Norwottuck Rail Trail.  Other pieces of the Central Mass Railroad were improved and paved by local communities and given other names as well.  Six years ago, it was incredibly difficult to search online for all the different sections of the entire MCRT, because to do so meant you had to know all the local names.  Waldo, Christine, Phyllis and I walked on other pieces of the MCRT, sometimes without knowing it, but there was no easy way to know where the entire route was.  That’s why it’s taken us so long to walk the whole thing.

A few years ago, I don’t remember exactly when, a group of people dedicated to the development of rail trails started a website focused on connecting all the different pieces and making a single paved rail trail from Boston to Northampton, following the original railroad bed as much as possible.  They posted a map that made it “easy” to find all the separate pieces and their connections.

At first, I focused on walking the established, paved parts, but the rest was still there, just begging to be walked.  The website says there are 63 miles of trail “open,” which leaves 41 miles that needed to be explored.  So, last spring, I decided I needed to do just that and Waldo and I were off on another adventure.  It took us over 6 years to do the whole thing, but, today, here we are, on the verge of completing the trek.  This last leg takes us to the eastern end of the Norwottuck Rail Trail, which we walked way back when, and, when we’re done, we’ll have completed the entire 104 miles of the old Central Mass Railroad, from Northampton to downtown Boston.

We park the car, where we ended up on the last leg, on Bay Road, in Belchertown.  Across the street, there is an embankment, some 20 or 30 feet high, and even when we’re on top, there’s nothing that can be recognized as old railroad bed.  The map says it’s “proposed”, then becomes “protected/ unimproved.”  On the ground, I can’t tell any difference between the two.  As we walk along, no path at all morphs into well established path, to weed-choked, but obvious old railroad bed, to well established trail, to nothing at all again.  It’s pretty much what the last few miles have been.

There are places where the railroad cuts through stunningly gorgeous pieces of forest land, or around swampy ponds sporting all kinds of flora.  And Waldo and I are doing this in late fall, when all the leaves are gone.  It doesn’t take much imagination to see the sylvan beauty that must be here in the height of summer.  I try to picture what it must have been like to be on the train going through here back in the day.  You know, Calvin Coolidge, when he was Governor of Massachusetts, used to take this train every day, going from his home in Northampton, to Boston.  That was about a 3-hour trip.  Each way.  Today, because there is no direct route, it would take from 4 to 7 hours to travel by train, depending on connections.

There is so much American history where we have walked.  Much more than I’ve mentioned.  Like the Daniel Shays Highway, that goes to Belchertown.  It is named after the leader of the 1786 rebellion against the newly founded government of the United States.  There is the Quabbin reservoir, which finally filled in1946, drowned several towns and necessitated some rerouting of the Central Mass Railroad.  And there is a lot more.  But, then, in New England, Waldo can’t lift a leg without risking getting some piece of history wet.

As we walk down a well-trodden footpath on a raised part of the old railroad bed, I see, up ahead, through all the weeds, bushes and trees, a highway.  On the other side is a large sign.  I can’t read it, but I know what it says: “Norwottuck Rail Trail.”  A few more yards and we’re there, beside the sign.  We’ve done it.  In order to avoid all the bushwhacking, we take to the roads and return to the car.

It’s funny, I don’t feel a sense of accomplishment, or the desire to celebrate.  In fact, I’m a little disappointed.  As is very often the case, maybe always, the real value is in the journey, not the realization of the goal.  I’m going to miss the adventure of navigating my way through the bush, finding my way forward when it is not at all obvious.

But then, this isn’t our last walk in the woods, is it.