Leyden WMA

I hesitate to post about this site since I know a lot of people regard it as a well-kept secret favorite spot, but... I mean it's basically a super-sweet little hike right in our backyard (or at least on the first ridge above us as you head north up out of town) and it's on all the trail apps and there's only so long I can not talk about it before it just feels weird. 

passing through the dramatic third clearing

The lower trailhead is near the end of a dirt road at the Greenfield/Leyden town line, right about where the terrain changes dramatically from the lower rolling open areas of the Valley to the steeper slopes of the hilltown uplands. The route described here rises up for several miles to some open hilltops and a small trailhead off of E Glen Rd up in Leyden. There's no officially marked, mapped, or named trail, and there are several forks along the way so you definitely want to have a trails app handy if you go (but beware lack of cell signal there). Jen and I hiked it as an out-and-back at the start of this Labor Day weekend. 

The first part of the route rises through open meadows, managed as wildlife clearings by MassWildlife. After climbing a steep pitch back up into the woods at the upper end of the clearing, we turned right at the first major intersection (left leads about a mile across the slope to the reservoir ponds along Glen Brook). We climbed through woods for about a mile to the next clearing. There appear to be 5 total along this route, though you really only pass through 4 of them (the fifth being this one, which you sort of skirt the edge of). 

The middle clearing is the sweetest. Hardly anyone goes there but there are wide, sweeping views to the south and you can see so much of the Pioneer Valley. Of the two branches of trail you can choose from here, I'd pick the southern one (the northern one is more direct but passes through some briars on the slopes and a wet area at the bottom). 

After rolling through more woods between clearings 3 and 4, we rose through blackberry and raspberry bushes along the edge of clearing 4 and were delighted to see tons of monarch butterflies flitting about among the goldenrod flowers. Between clearings 4 and 5 the route passes below some houses and along a wet area, and to be honest I don't like that part very much. There are blowdowns to scramble around and it's quite soggy. It smells a bit, too. 

blueberry fields at the top

Clearing 5 is the main high point of this section of ridge, known for its copious blueberries patches in season. It's only a quarter-mile walk up an old road from the upper parking area. 

hiking back down through the lower clearing in late-afternoon light

Hallockville Pond hike

There's a pretty cool little 1-mile loop trail around Hallockville Pond in Hawley. It's on the current (undated) DCR map as "Pond Loop" but I'd never seen it before. Makes a great short hike up in them thar hills.  

Hallockville Pond

Pond Loop trail

botanists gonna botanize

cascadelet along a nearby stream

Pond Loop trailhead sign

bridge over brook at the far end

super pleasant woods

pondside flowers

occasional rocks

log bridge

another log bridge

oooooh

nice

bridge over brook

bridge over a different brook

big rocks above the pond

fern path

pondside

dam at the north end

trail towards Hawley Pass

Coming Soon...

Visitors to this site are likely already well aware of Trail Running Western Massachusetts, the guidebook I created several years ago profiling 51 great trail running sites in the west half of the state. I'm very pleased to be able to announce that a companion volume is in the works, and scheduled for release just 8 months from now in March of 2022. It will be called Trail Running Eastern Massachusetts and cover the rest of the state not already profiled in the first book. The completed manuscript is being edited at present, will get finalized later in the summer and go into design/layout in the fall, and finally will get printed over the winter. 

There's SO much great stuff out there I can't wait to share. For now, here is a very brief teaser: a sampling of some of my favorite photos taken during site research over the past year: 

There's a reason it's called the Skyline Trail (Middlesex Fells Reservation)

Descending a ski slope in summer at the Blue Hills Reservation

Deep woods singletrack at Willard Brook State Forest

Winter trail running at Leadmine Mountain Conservation Area

Lush hillside swooping in Sutton

Peak autumn color at Mt. Wachusett north of Worcester

Rainy day along the Western Greenway Trail near Boston

Pamet Hollow on the Outer Cape

Fancy trail bridge at the Ward Reservation in Andover

Sandy singletrack at a conservation area in Sandwich

Check back here in a few months for more details about when and where you can pick up a copy of Trail Running Eastern Massachusetts! 

11/22/21 UPDATE: It is happening...  https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1625346352

(release date March 25, 2022)

Hawley Again

Having previously explored the mountain bike trail network from the Lime Kiln trailhead in Hawley (see 2019 post here), Jen and I set out from Hawley Bog a bit further north to try out a new hiking trail loop in Dubuque State Forest. I've cobbled together trail names from several sources but wouldn't vouch too heavily for their accuracy. It looks like DCR is in the process of adding a LOT of new trail signs to their properties, however, so it may already look different on the ground. 

Poverty Square Trail in Hawley

We headed west on the doubletrack-width Poverty Square Trail, which rolls along through the woods for a mile or so until it rater abruptly starts dropping down the slope to the west. At a junction not quite at the bottom, we veered hard left on Marsh Trail and climbed, steeply at times, back up the slope to the south and east. Then we headed east on Hunt Rd, taking a brief out-and-back excursion on an unnamed singletrack trail leading right/south. 

singletrack trail at Dubuque

At a near-4-way junction with State Forest Rd, we turned left and climbed north on Bog Trail, which we followed all the way back around to the trailhead. Then we took the short out-and-back spur trail out into Hawley Bog, which was totally worth it because a bunch of the peat-mat flowers were in bloom. 

hiking at Hawley Bog

Our full route (about 5 miles total)

Honoring Service

 The latest issue of the Sugarloaf Mountain Athletic Club (SMAC)'s newsletter celebrates all aspects of "Service" in the running community, from volunteering to crewing and more. This baby is basically a mini-magazine about running in this region. Enjoy! 

http://sugarloafmountainathletic.org/smacwp/wp-content/uploads/2012/04/SMAC_Sun_2021_issue4_JulAug.pdf 

Woodland Parkour

The dream is always the same. 

Or at least it starts out the same. I’m running in the woods. On a trail. A really gnarly trail. “Technical” is the term for it (one of several apt trail-running terms borrowed from the mountain-biking community). In fact, it’s one of the most technical trails I’ve ever seen. Lots of bare rock ledges and giant, heaving roots and steep drop-offs to navigate and scramble over. In short, it’s an absolute blast. There’s so much hands-on jungle-gym jumping and leaping around required that the experience starts to feel less like trail running and more like a new running sport: woodland parkour. 

Instead of turning right onto that trail less travelled, though, I veer left. Onto a path that’s soon quite obviously even less travelled. The greenery closes in, whelms and then overwhelms, and finally dominates entirely. The trail turns into a notion of a trail, and I wing it by feel, unable to conceal my delirious grin. 

Soon, though, the intensity increases. The ground starts to slope precipitously downward, and the pace quickens. I notice other racers around me, some surging ahead and others falling behind. The chase is on. One or two even come up the other way. It’s like some kind of crazy motocross competition, except on Hokas. We’re swooping, banking, and roller-coastering through the forest like dogfighting fighter-plane pilots. X-Wings evading TIEs inside the superstructure of the second Death Star. The adrenaline is thrilling. Intoxicating, even. I’m right in my wheelhouse and I’m loving it. 

The terrain gets even wilder, and the pace escalates. Imperceptibly at first, the grade steepens, and the moves of the descent grow ever more challenging. Ledge drop-offs lengthen and leaps become the norm. Eventually I need to start grabbing dangling vines and loose roots to guide my controlled plunges. It’s a full-body effort. 

The “trail” has now become a rock-climbing route on a bottomless forested cliff. I’m picking my next landing spots in mid-air, and never staying grounded for more than a second. It’s barely running anymore; it’s really more like basic flight. I know I’m in over my head but it’s past the point of no return. The route is more or less vertical, and I’m not a very good rock climber. It’s down or bust now. There are occasional slips and slides... and suddenly the first pangs of fear show up. 

I’m not really afraid of heights. Not in the normal, paralyzing way. I can stand at the edge of mountain cliffs, or blissfully run along the steep ledges of Mt. Tom and enjoy the thrill. But some drop-offs wreck me. My friend was building a house once and we climbed the unfinished stairs to a second-floor landing overlooking his living room. There was no railing yet, though, just a 12-foot drop to the hard floor below. In that kind of situation my gut drops out and in my mind I feel my neck break on the hard floor below. THAT’s where I’m terrified of heights. That and slippery rock ledges. 

And then it happens. Overhang. The next move requires descending to a ledge that isn’t just below me, it’s actually technically behind me. Tucked under the ledge I’m dangling from. And this is where I seize up. I know I can’t do that, especially not at this accelerated pace. I’m panic stricken and my body betrays me. My grip on the vine or ledge edge I’m clinging to starts to slip, and every fiber of my being realizes that this is it. I’m not going to make it. The Porsche is totally going in the lake. 

That’s more or less where I wake up, of course. 

I have died in dreams before, but it’s usually some form of getting fatally shot and then wondering why I’m still conscious. I don’t think I’ve ever literally fallen to my death in a dream. I’m glad I haven’t; I don’t think I’d like that. So the sudden return to consciousness feels like a fierce blend of anxiety and relief. But not here. The violent expulsion from my initially fun little woodland parkour session usually leaves me literally gasping, and preposterously tense. 

So I always wonder. What if I jumped? What if I take that leap and there’s more to come. What if I just say… what the heck? Is there a satisfying ending to this tangerine dream? The answer is perfectly clear: yes, no, maybe. Ah, what the heck. It’s time to leap.