Twin Peaks

Peak One: Rising above it all.



At the height of the summer steam bath we were all immersed in, we took a weekend ride up to higher altitudes, in an effort to shave off a couple muggy degrees, at least for a few hours. We swung up to Deerfield's Mt. Sugarloaf, climbing the almost harrowingly steep grade to the top of the 650-foot rock jutting high above the surrounding farmland.

Bursting out from under the tree-canopied access road and approaching the final hairpin turn, our breaths were snatched away for a second as once again an eagle-eye view of our beautiful valley broke before us.



Tobbacy, corn, and forest. As blessedly far as the eye could see.



A trip to the northern end of the valley is also like a couple decades back in time. To where industry and commercialism has only washed over the land about ankle deep, and life not nearly as submerged with chaos as it is further south. From this perspective, anyway, small villages and broad tracts of cultivation still appear to command the scape as it had for generations on end.





Looking to the south and east, the whole peaceful green expanse is broken only by a couple of mountains (Mt. Toby nearby and Mt. Holyoke in the distance) and bisected by a tree lined, low and slow moving, equally peaceful ribbon of blue.



Stunning, every time.

Stunning, but unfortunately, not much cooler. The warm wet blanket of July seems to have been thicker than the heights we were at. Oh well. Nothing to do but suck it up. After nearly two straight boiling weeks we were well conditioned anyway. The older and more jaded adults took cover under the shaded sides of the viewing platform or under what trees were nearby, sitting still and panting while taking it all in, blinking through salty, sweat-covered eyes.

Only her second witness to a summer, the bloggerette found it easier to accept things as they were; and thought the dazzling colors and smells of a wildflower garden more fitting of her attention.



The jungle conditions are good for most other life anyway, if not the most comfortable condition to we hairless, pampered primates.



...heat+water = good.



...ask any bug.



Meanwhile above, the sun-stirred humid soup seemed to be building up for a show. A show probably best not viewed so close.



Time to head back down...

Peak Two: Closed But Not Forgotten

With the return of sane temperatures, my work schedule likewise is beginning to settle back in to something bearable. A couple more hours here and there can be had to venture off and fritter.
And fritter them atop one of the valley's best peaks, shall I.

Skinner Mountain on the Holyoke Range, with the dual attraction of easy access and spectacular scenery. A jaunt on the motorbike late last week found man and machine winding up it's narrow paved roads to the summit.

I was quite pleased with myself for being able to get up here so quickly and efficiently on my little two wheeled escape pod. Love that bike. Can't top the experience, I mused while pulling the helmet off...

...just as this guy buzzed by overhead.



A reminder that there's always something to put you neatly back in your place.



The Ultra-Light motored by low overhead and disappeared behind the Summit House which, very unfortunately, has been suddenly and unceremoniously closed earlier this year with nothing but a brusque 'Until Further Notice'. Apparently the wooden deck and support beams, which daily weather the weather atop the 950 foot peak, were finally deemed unsafe for the general public.



It didn't look that bad, but better safe than litigiously sorry, I suppose.



Such a shame, and at a time when funds for state parks are so scarce. It might take a while before things are restored again.



But even without the old house and it's broad, venerable covered deck to sit or stroll on; there's still plenty of view to be had and picnic tables to be eaten at all around the long rocky summit.





And better still, August is one of the best months to visit the top since the summit is open to 8:00pm every day until the end of the month. Really the only time of the year you can drive up and stay long enough for a good sunset viewing.



Two State Park Rangers used their clout to watch said sunset from the forbidden deck, while the rest of the visiting riff-raff were relegated to a nearby rocky outcropping.



Meh. Just as good. Nearly.

Toppermost Of The Poppermost

One good result of the credit/financial crunch is that there's less money (real or imagined) available for the fuel suppliers to relieve us of, bringing gas prices down to the 3-dollar neighborhood.



That saved me a few bucks Saturday, as we blissfully burned through several gallons heading up to Mt. Sugarloaf. I wanted Kelly and the kid to have a look at the movie set they've built up there before they tear it down, now that filming in this area is over...

The ride up, of course, was New England goodness; with the colors really starting to pop now and autumn scenes abounding.





Here's a quick scan of the colors offered up by a nondescript field by the side of the road, on our way up:



We arrived at the bottom of Sugarloaf, where there was a mass of trucks packed up, or getting that way. A lot of stuff has already apparently been removed from the top of the hill.



But there is a lot left up there. Wires were still stretched everywhere, along with lights, generators, cranes, booms, and other Hollywood magic-making instruments.









Some things were draped in army camouflage. I'm not sure if it was for a scene, as some other odd movie making stuff was similarly camouflaged.



Tour guide vans were continuously rolling up and down the hill. I've never seen that up here before, it must have something to do with the draw of the movie set.



This guy biked up the hill. If you've ever been up that hill and know how steep it is, you'll understand what an achievement that is.



The set itself, "Northmoor" as I've heard it's called in the movie, looks to still be pretty much intact.



Obviously the exterior of the set is not intended to look wholly like a real house or any other structure, but is probably mainly for interior shots, with the scenic background.



Of course, it would be complete lunacy to go up Sugarloaf and not bring back a couple pics of the countryside...







The sun she setting. Time to head back.

Main Force Patrol

Kelly had some things to do Saturday, which left me on my own for the day. I had tried to get my more important stuff done earlier in the week so this weekend would be free and clear for some good hard roaming. I was on the motorcycle by 10:15, and sitting on the Northampton town hall steps, biting into a bacon egg and cheese on an english muffin, by 10:50, free and clear.

The paper had some disturbing news though, how will this bode for Main St. U.S.A.?



A big part of the problem is a type of gambling they call Short Selling of Stock. Here's how you play this casino game:



Unfortunately it appears safe to say our boys and girls in D.C. are determined to make sure that the house always loses. I happened to look up from the grim news, just in time to see further proof that the pedestrians still RULE this town. Even the mighty Lamborghini must pause humbly before their feet.



Time to move on, and move north. Going through Hatfield, I came across the remains of a mighty Sycamore tree that had recently lost a couple of it's massive limbs to rot.



There was debate in the town about whether the tree, one of the oldest and tallest in the region, was safe to let stand. After some research and core samples taken, it was decided that it had to come down. It's too bad, but judging by the hollowness of the stump, it appears to have been the right decision.





From there it's a short but scenic trip up to Deerfield. Mt. Sugarloaf is looking a little Hollywoody these days.



They're working on a set for the upcoming filming of a Mel Gibson movie, "Edge of Darkness". Rumor has it the lookout platform on the top is being transformed into a villain's lair, replete with missile silos. The road to the top is still open to visitors, but it will be closed off during the actual filming in early October. Let's go take a look...

On the way up, some of the trees leaning over the narrow access road have cones attached and marker rope hanging, I'm sure to protect them from the construction and filming equipment going up and down the hill.



One of the parking lots on top is now occupied by a supply area/medical tent/trash depot.



The lookout platform itself is now almost completely disguised.





It doesn't look like they're building anything too permanent, though I wonder what the metal girders are attached to. But I'm sure they plan to revert it to it's original condition after filming, for liability reasons if nothing else. We can't have Mr. Jones and family perched on some shaky Hollywood scene prop, atop a windy 650 foot hill...



You certainly can't blame the movie producers for picking this hill. It's a world-class scene from atop Mt. Sugarloaf, fit for viewing by millions of movie-goers. And what super villain could resist settling down here.





There was plenty of day left, time to continue on. Up through Montague, then through bucolic scenery in Gill, then through Northfield where one of the last functioning Drive-In theaters marks the border into New Hampshire.



Maybe Mel's movie will be shown here...



Over the border, on through Hindsdale New Hampshire,



Then over the winding roads of the Pisgah hills, and finally into the town of Keene.



It is my third time in Keene. The town seems to consist of a massive outer ring of sprawling retail, chain restaurant and big-box stores. Then an inner core, with a more college-influenced atmosphere. And in that core, are five main roads that converge on a rotary, that surrounds a small town common, the neutron of this atom-town.



One of the converging roads is a nearly mile long beautifully tree-lined, two lane boulevard; lined with many, many small shops and restaurants. Benches and plenty of parking are available right up the middle and sides of the main drag. It's all set up very nicely, with a clean, safe vibe. Of the dozens of shops, eateries, and stores, I noticed only one that was for lease. Keene seemed to be doing well this Saturday afternoon.







I hung out and people watched for a while. There seemed to be a lot of kids from nearby Keene College roaming around. Also many skater-type kids with their wool caps on, (one very young skater kid stopped me as I walked by with "Hey, cool sunglasses, want to see me do a 360 on my board...for a buck?") I passed on that, this time, but kudos to the kid for his business savvy and ability to pick out a sucker from the crowd. There were older, richer ladies going in and out of boutiques, retirees sunning themselves on the plentiful benches. One older gentleman thanked me for stopping to let him cross the street, and grumbled that I had more consideration than the town bus drivers. (it's the Northampton pedestrian thing, see above). And to round out the type-casting, the occasional wannabe would drive by in a pick-up truck, playing cursing rap music way too loud. From my unscientific observations these past three trips, I'll surmise that like the rest of New Hampshire, Keene used to be very conservative, but has become more and more liberal, perhaps painfully...

It was time to head back. Somewhere between Hindsdale and Keene can be seen a fine example of an advertising commitment that should not be entered into lightly:



I hauled back down Route 63. It was getting a little chilly on the bike, so I made one more stop in Amherst, for a warming cup of coffee, and some more people watching.



After a few minutes of sitting there, watching the mobs of students and academics from Amherst College and Umass milling about, it was once again apparent to me that there are many college towns, like Keene for example, that must aspire to reach the levels of openness, education and art that exist in our five-college region.



How lucky we are to live in the valley.