Intersection of the Mass Central Rail Trail and the Bruce Freeman Trail.
Wandering re-establishes the original harmony which once existed between man and the universe.
— Anatole France
Continued from before…
As we head back toward the Lotus Blossom, I’m thinking about those “Do Not Enter” signs. They make me a little angry. The railroad bed goes nowhere that is dangerous to either the walker nor the people who control the right of way. Why should anyone be allowed to prevent another’s urge to wander down there? I know I’m not alone in this.
In the early 20th century in Britain, people who wanted to escape city life and wander in the country, but who were prevented from doing so by wealthy land owners, organized and lobbied Parliament. They organized large protest hikes that crossed boundaries, physical and legal, and brought the issue to public attention. They argued that land owners shouldn’t have the right to prevent them from walking on the land as long as they don’t interfere with business, like farming, or damage the property.
In 1935, the Ramblers Association was created and Parliament was forced to respond. For decades, regulations were generated that opened up the land for more public access. In the 1980s, the Ramblers pressed Parliament and, in 2000, the Countryside and Rights of Way Act 2000 was passed into law. It granted public access to mountains, moors and heaths in England and Wales. In Scotland, the Land Reform Act 2003 codified universal access.
The Countryside and Rights of Way Act gives the general public the right to wander across other people’s land as long as it is wilderness (excluding developed land, gardens and some otherwise designated exceptions – buildings, courtyards and gardens, land within 20 meters of a dwelling or building with livestock, land used for active mineral workings, quarries, aerodromes and railways, golf courses and racecourses, plowed or planted land within the last year and military firing ranges and land under the Ministry of Defence byelaws). One is allowed to wander freely across open country or common land as long as you follow the Countryside Code (such as keeping dogs under control and closing gates).
Yes! Down with NIMBY(Not In My Back Yard)ism! Long live the right to wander freely! But this is America and we have… issues. Sigh.
Once we pass the restaurant, the trail continues into Hudson as straight as a laser pointer. In less than a mile, we come across the spot where the Bruce Freeman Trail, also a rail trail, crosses the Mass central Rail Trail. Someone has built a large stone circle at the intersection, on top of which are the old rails where the two railroads crossed in an X. The developed part of the Bruce Freeman Trail stops here, although there are plans for it to eventually go on into Framingham.
Continuing on, we pass through forest on both sides, with some commercial buildings and a few homes appearing here and there, once in a great while, off through the trees. NIMBYs lost a court battle to prevent the construction of the trail through here, but there are many “No Trespassing” signs posted nearby on tree trunks, bearing witness to continued ill feelings among the landed gentry. I know, from previous walks, there is more lowland swamp further down the way, but we turn around and head back to the car after going only 2 more miles from the restaurant. That completes our 6-mile, self-imposed, distance.
It’s been a nice walk, excluding the damned ticktrefoil (yet one more floral enemy we have to contend with). We passed one other person doing the doggy duty and some joggers. Several bicycles passed us by; 4 had large panniers (saddle bags) and other bags attached. “Where you going?” I asked.
“Montreal!” they gaily replied, as they whizzed by.
God bless them. Damn! That’s some 320 miles away. It is really nice to see people out here walking, jogging and biking, using the land the way God intended.
Soon, we’re back at the car and heading home. Now I have to look forward to brushing all the ticktrefoil seed pods out of Waldo’s fur. That’s going to take a while.
Then, at last, I can retreat to my recliner and rest some weary muscles.
Can’t get much straighter than that…