Bicycling in the Pioneer Valley

The wind hums gently across the field, dried yellow grass rustling. Sunlight is reflecting off my handlebars and right into my eyes. I roll away from my bicycle and look across the clearing I just sat myself down in.

There is a bird house to my left, with a sign asking visitors not to interfere with the experiment being conducted by the Amherst College Ornithology Department. Behind it are trees, half red-leaved, half bare. Behind me and the small rise I sit on is the path I took here, a spur off of the Norwottuck Rail Trail. I stretch out on my back, splayed out on the grass and in the warm sun, and prepare for a very satisfying nap.

When there is nice weather, Amherst, Mass. is a great place to be. There is a quaint downtown, where virtually everything is built out of brick. Very New England. There are many farms and lots of open space, much of it specifically designed with recreational usage in mind. It also has a youthful population, with three colleges within the town limits, UMass Amherst, Amherst College and Hampshire College. This population is very mobile, and bicycling is a popular mode of transportation in Amherst as well as in the entire Pioneer Valley.

Just as there are many types of cars and drivers, there are many different kinds of bicyclists. Everyone has their own idea of a good time out on their bike, so here are a few examples of different rides, varied routes for varied people. Suitable for all riders, they are listed from least to most difficult.

Norwottuck Rail Trail
4-5 miles, beginner, for any type of bicycle

The Norwottuck Rail Trail was built in 1993, on the ruins of an old railroad bed. It extends eleven miles from Northampton to Belchertown.

Popular and well marked, the Rail Trail is a great place for a beginner recreational cyclist to start. A good place to hop on is on South Pleasant Street in Amherst, across the street from a building supply store, at the corner of Snell Street. From here, one can either ride about a half an hour to Northampton, or cross back under 116 and head into Belchertown. I recommend going towards Belchertown, it is more scenic and there are less people.

The trail passes under South Pleasant Street/Route 116, then heads behind Amherst College. It bends to the right, and immediately there are no trees, only a huge field, stretching more than 2000 yards. I pull to the right and onto a little dirt path that takes me to the top of a small rise. From the hill the Rail Trail looks like a miniature road, with only cyclists and rollerbladers. In reality it is about eight feet wide. The yellow dividing line down the middle makes it seem more road-like. I take a brief rest from riding, and sit in the sun for a while. There are bird houses everywhere, pollen and seeds swarm the warm air.

Soon I am back in the trees, back on the Trail. I pass over a little bridge that spans a small tributary of the Connecticut River. It is shallow enough to babble, but deep enough to swim in too. One hundred feet later, I pass over another bridge, this one bypassing Southeast Street. Someone’s house is very close, and looms down over the bike path, right next to the bridge.

I continue straight (I don’t have a choice, that is the way the path runs), and cross yet another bridge into a swamp. The old railroad bed runs through here, so a slip of your handlebars can wind up becoming a swim in the noxious black swamp water just off the edge of the path. The ground only extends a few inches past the edges of the Trail. There are pale dead trees poking out of the muck here and there, and a beaver dam the size of a Taurus is on the left. The beaver went a little crazy chewing down trees and expanding his home apparently, as the remaining trees in the area are wrapped in chicken wire fence up to my chest.

The swamp continues much longer than I expect, it takes several minutes to pedal through. Oddly enough, on my right there are farm fields, no traces of the bog on the left. The bike path is the dividing line between the different ecosystems.

In the distance to the left, I can see the current railroad bed that is still in use. At the next intersection, Station Road, the Rail Trail and the current railroad join up, and run parallel to each other.

All there is left to do is keep going straight. This is why the Norwottuck Rail Trail is a great path for beginners, there is a well defined and well paved route to follow, with plenty of scenic vistas along the way. It is simple, and the trees, swamps, and fields are great to visit and poke around in the warm weather.

The path currently ends at a parking lot on Warren Wright Road, plans to extend it further east are in the works at the municipal level in Belchertown. At this parking lot, you can either turn around the way you came, or decide to get picked up by a friend with a big trunk.

North Hadley Loop
8 miles, intermediate, for any type of bike, but there are big hills and this ride might last over an hour so keep comfort in mind.

The Rail Trail is fun, but many people use it and it is sometimes crowded on weekends. Another ride, for those who are ready for something a little more intense, starts off from the Haigis Mall at UMASS. I go down Massachusetts Ave, and cross over Route 116 into Hadley. I take a right onto Roosevelt Street. The cars fly by at more than fifty miles an hour, buffeting me just a little, just enough to want to take a turn off this long, straight, sparsely populated stretch of pavement. The next left, Stockbridge Road, takes me onto a quieter path, and seemingly an entirely different state. Stockbridge Road is a small slice of Iowa, relocated to Hadley. I see identical prefabricated houses lining the street, each thirty yards from the next, and each thirty yards from the street. The street is wide enough for four lanes, probably so tractors can drive down it easily. The asphalt is deteriorating. After a half mile or so, the houses dissipate, and ancient barns appear on the left. On the right are fallow farm fields.

I am amazed at the number of barns there are. They are all made of heavily weathered wood and are almost as much hole as they are barn. In their better days they stored and dried tobacco. I peek in some, all I see is rusty farm equipment, covered in cobwebs and caked with old tan mud.

The road bends to the left, then ends at River Drive/Route 47. Take a left here, head south. You are now in the historic district of Hadley; many of the houses date back to the earliest settlers in the town. There is a small vineyard on the left. The houses all have signs marking the year they were built, many predate 1700.

I see a body of water, Lake Warner, occasionally peeking from behind trees and houses on my left. It looks inviting, and there is a small island in the middle of this long, narrow, crescent shaped pond that in warmer weather would be fun to swim out to.

The road forks, and I take a left onto Mt. Warner Road. There is a small bridge I pass over, and I can see a dam and an old mill, renovated into a stylish residence. The water wheel is still runnning loudly.

I stay on Mt. Warner Road for some time, taking a good look at my surroundings while I ride. The road starts to go uphill, over Mount Warner, so I go easy to save some breath.

Up and over Mount Warner, and now down the long slope on the other side. I am coasting down the hill, and I can see UMASS’s Southwest towers in the distance, as well as it’s 26 floor library, reminding me of where I am after that ride through pastoral North Hadley. The yards are different here from houses downtown. There is less development and Volvos, much more vinyl siding and red Ford F-350s.

At the intersection with Breckenridge Road, there is a little traffic triangle. I bear left, and continue on Mt Warner Road. It ends at North Maple Street. I take a left, and head north. My next right takes me down Massachusetts Avenue, and back into campus to the Haigis Mall.

Northeast St.
At least 2 miles, for the adventurous, a mountain bike is ideal

Though within walking distance, East Amherst is very different from downtown and areas surrounding the University. This neighborhood is on the cusp of the developed neighborhoods, and is the gateway to the pastoral landscapes that many people associate with Western Massachusetts and the Pioneer Valley. It is this balance that allows for a quality bike ride in the area.

Accompanying me on this ride is my friend and roommate, Greg Thomas. Greg is currently unemployed, therefore he spends lots of time exploring the community by bicycle. His first hand knowledge will be helpful. We start at Cumberland Farms on College Street/Rte 9 for drinks and snacks. Then we head up Southeast Street, and go through the light at Main Street and continue north onto Northeast Street.

We are riding down Northeast, up the hill that passes Amethyst Farm, and past Strong Street on our left. There are silos to our right, we wish we knew what they contained. We’re sweating a bit from pedaling up it, but now we coast down the other side of the slope, swerving to avoid deep jagged potholes from last winter. A spill at this speed is a guaranteed concussion, if not more. There is a small farm stand we blow by, there is no attendant, only a cash drop box and a sign asking people to adhere to the honor system when purchasing their corn, squash, and pumpkins. White Christmas lights are strung across the beams of the tiny structure. There is only a back wall and a roof that is so low I have to duck my head to inspect the produce.

We zip down the rest of the hill, and into the middle of nowhere. The air is noticeably chillier, we are at the lowest elevation in Amherst. I can taste cold, and moisture from wetlands nearby. I rethink the decision to take this ride in the late afternoon.

“Stop! Stop, stop!” Greg’s brakes shriek and his tires grind as they slide on the pavement. I have to turn sharply to the left to avoid slamming into his back tire, my bike staggers uneasily. He is six foot four with a full brown beard, but his expression makes him look like a tiny little imp, an excited child, face lit up with glee.

“We should go down Rifle Range Road, it is really nice and quiet, there is plenty of space to explore.”

I take his advice, and we take a right down Rifle Range Road, a dirt path that is gated off. We go around. There isn’t a street sign, only POSTED: NO TRESPASSING, HUNTING, FISHING, TRAPPING OR POACHING. We take this under advisement.

Immediately I notice the change in atmosphere. Whereas before I could hear some sounds of humanity, the occasional car, or a lawn mower, maybe another cyclist. But now, there is only the sound of my tires snapping twigs and the quiet metal on metal clinking of my bike pedals, muted by the thick fir trees surrounding me.

The path skirts the edge of the College of Natural Resources and the Environment’s Adams Brook Forest property. This is where Natural Resources Conservation majors take chainsaw labs and study salmon restoration.

We’re three hundred yards down the path, and Greg takes a right, through a brief wooded area, and out into a field. Emerging from the woods, our eyes are unaccustomed to the bright sunlight of the open field. The path is just two tractor wheel ruts, the red dirt is soft under our skinny road tires. The tires cake with it. We slow to a crawl. There is an oak tree at the other end of the field we are making for, first pedaling, then pushing our bikes through the dying straw.

As we approach the tree, I notice it’s trunk is at least twelve feet around, a relic from hundreds of years ago. The only evidence of humanity other than ourselves and our bikes is the path we rode out on. All I can hear is a brook, off in the woods behind our oak tree. That is the direction we are headed next after our rest. A lighter sparks.

“I told you we had to come down Rifle Range Road,” Greg slowly says in between drags from his cigarette.

I concede that sometimes in order to find the best places to go for a fun bicycle ride, you have to enlist the help of a professional.