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June 17, 1997
7.75 hours
Taking advantage of one of Howie
Carr's pet peeves - Bunker
Hill Day, a holiday for City workers, I began this walk at the Walpole
Commuter Rail station. I first passed this point on a walk from
Brockton
to Natick
along Route 27. My first walk to Walpole
was made years ago on a trip beginning at Forest
Hills and going down Washington Street to East
Walpole.
I have used this station to begin and end other walks. I will also be starting here for a Neponset River walk later this year. A north from Walpole walk is under study.
In general, my modus of operandi is to use each station and terminal that I have been to as future starting points. Some have more potential for different directions than others, which routes I have already covered being an important factor.
The MBTA train, with typical punctuality, arrived at 7:40 AM, and I exited from the station on a path beside old mill buildings to Elm Street (Route 27). Across this was the Liberty Village Mall, containing the Filling Station Bar and Grill and other businesses.
I headed east toward the center of town (the Walpole section of Walpole, to use the Arrow map terminology). On the left was B & G Power Equipment; then I reached Common Street, with the Deacon Willard Lewis House (home of the Walpole Historical Society, established 1898). From here, I proceeded to West Street, finally headed west.
Since going due west from Walpole leads to an area barren of public transportation, my plan was to continue in that direction and return to Franklin. If I got the 4:00 PM train, that would allow seven hours for walking, plus over an hour for eating and other stops. (Note that my reports of walking time adjust for such delays; i.e., these times are for how long I actual spent walking. My summary totals are rounded off to the nearest fifteen minute interval.)
As I started down this street, I realized I had made an error. There was another exit from the station that would have allowed me to avoid going around in a circle as I had done. I had thought this might be the case when I got off the train; but, not being sure, I had decided that I might as well take the path I had used on all prior occasions rather than spend time checking out a possibility that might not work out after all. Now, as I saw an MBTA parking lot on my left and commuters crossing to get to the station, plus people who had got off the train with a better sense of direction than I had, I felt a little foolish. However, any lost time was no more than five or ten minutes, and this was a walk that did not have significant time constraints.
I walked under the railroad bridge, on a sidewalk on the right-hand side of the street covered with pinecones. On my left, I saw The Houses at Swan's Pond. A sign read "Open Saturday - Thursday". Then, as if to show a low opinion of the intelligence of those interested, below that was written "Closed Friday". Swan Pond, which may correspond to an unidentified body of water off to my left on the Arrow and Butterworth maps, was not visible.
Next came still another, very narrow railroad bridge. (Walpole has a profusion of railroad tracks, running in various directions. The one I was crossing now serves the commuter rail, which goes from Walpole to Norfolk.) On my left were woods; on the right commercial properties. I noted the Andreassi Brothers, S. M. Lorusso and Sons and the Riverfield Concrete Company.
Past these business on the right was a little pond (on the map, but without a name), with a fountain in it. Continuing, I found woods on the left and wetlands on the right. As I went underneath still another railroad bridge, a Boston-bound train went by.
Wetlands appeared on my left; on the right was Anderson Electric, a/k/a Anderson Electrical Contractors. Then I passed the oddly named Assured Collision Company on the left, with Hayes Excavating on the right.
I reached Norfolk Street, making a slight repeat of a former walk west from Sharon, as I headed west. According to the maps, this locality is West Walpole, but strangely this place name is not in Omni or USGS. Here I saw a business evidently being conducted in a garage-like building behind a home, Neponset Valley Machine.
Opposite Forest Road, I noticed a brook or pond not on the map. Then I passed the railroad track again, this time going over a bridge.
I turned onto Lincoln Street, following my plan, but very quickly I realized that it was based on error. On the right, I saw a private road with a "Mile 0" marker (just like the ones on Massachusetts state routes). I remembered seeing it on the west from Sharon walk. In designing this trip, I has mistakenly thought that it had been Norfolk, not Lincoln, that I had followed that time.
Accordingly I had to revise my plan. I went back to Norfolk and continued west. On my left I passed a field that is the home of the Walpole Little League, as I was informed by a sign on a pot of flowers. This was a residential area, with some woods on the left side.
By now, the sun was coming out (despite the weather forecast that I had heard, which predicted this would happen in the afternoon). It was hot and humid, and I could once again foresee dehydration setting in. My route did not seem to be promising in regard to opportunities to get liquid refreshment.
I went over still another railroad bridge, at a kind of "five corners" intersection. To the south, I noted that a sign on Cedar Street marked it as "Not a Thru Street". This was somewhat at variance with my Butterworth map.
Universal has Cedar becoming a dashed line; Arrow just shows it going through. Although I think Arrow has overall the best maps, it does seem - as we shall see later in this account - that they do tend to fail to note when roads turn into trails, a state of affairs that has negatively impacted many of my walks.
I continued past nice homes; I thought the Dunhams' was particularly well landscaped. I saw a cyclist pass by and exchanged greetings with a man mowing the lawn.
I passed some fields, with indications of former farmland; one had two tractors on it. Crossing some power lines, I had a nice vista on my right, with a outbound commuter train in the background. Then, on the left, amid the woods, I observed lot signs and other indications of forthcoming development.
After this, the left-hand side was undeveloped wetlands, with homes on the right. Then came another, rather large incipient development. As if to aggravate the feelings of distaste that such destruction of wilderness always provokes (not to mention my growing thirstiness), sand blew from this site into my face. Right opposite this was an old house; and I thought that, if edifices had feelings, this one must be pretty sad to see what was happening. (Rare indeed is the case where new homes are more attractive than their old surroundings.)
One hour had now gone by. By Highland Lake Drive (which runs past that body of water), I passed an abandoned farmhouse, with more development in progress.
Just past Hollingsworth Road on my right, I crossed into Norfolk, the border being noted by the post only of an evidently dowedn town line sign. Here, in the locality also known as Highland Lake, Walpole's West Street becomes Norfolk's Main Street. It was time to change maps, from Butterworth to Atlas.
The Butterworth Company, based in West Yarmouth, doesn't make that many maps, nor are they east to get. They use a larger scale than Arrow, making them somewhat better for walkers. (Come on, Butterworth, get on the Internet!)
On the left was a very scenic vista. In the background, I could discern two water towers, an antenna and a smokestack. Ahead, down the road, I could see MCI Norfolk.
I went over a stone bridge over Stony Brook (one of fourteen - according to the GNIS database - steams with this name in Massachusetts). At the junction of Main Street, on my left, was a large house that suggested "the warden's home". Across the street was the prison, with an old central structure of some architectural merit, plus some newer buildings somewhat perceivable through the walls. With the towers, lights, and all I could not help thinking "just like in the movies".
MCI Norfolk is a medium security prison. It used to have a radio show, and an inmate once registered to vote and ran for town meeting member (or was it selectman?) in Norfolk. Though it certainly would have an interesting addition to that town's political scene, he only got around fifty votes. I believe that such endeavors have now been ruled out by a more punitive approach on the part of the state government - and the public. Massachusetts is one of only three states in the U.S. that allow prisoners to vote, but currently that policy is under attack by the politician. Some day, if the world gets better (a proposition by no means certain), people will look back at the idea of locking up criminals as a barbaric and wasteful concept.
Incidentally, this is the fourth Massachusetts "correctional institution" (so called, but punishment, rather than correction, seems to be their purpose these days) that I have encountered on my walks. I have also seen MCI Concord, MCI Framingham, and MCI Cedar Junction (formerly, and still commonly, called Walpole). I suppose that one cannot accurately judge prisons by their exteriors, but Walpole looked the worst.
I went right with Main Street, which turns here. Clark Street, to my left, looks as if it should be the continuation of Main and leads into South Walpole.
On the right hand side of the street, opposite the prison, I noted a sign for the Norfolk Lions Club, doubtless meant for motorists just crossing the border from Walpole rather than for inmates leaving MCI Norfolk. Then came Norfolk Auto and Maxon and Sons (towing and repairs). On the left, I noticed a road, with a sign directing one to the MCI Norfolk Training Center. From the map, this would have been a short cut to where I was going, but I would not have been inclined to try it even if I had been behind time!
Walking past wood on the left, I saw a body of water on the right. It did not appear to be on the map, which did show a Mann Pond, but this had to be further north. (Confusingly, there is another feature of the same name nearby in Foxboro.)
Later, in checking the Universal map I found a body of water indicated right here. No name is indicated, but it would appear to be a separate small lake. So I am not considering Mann Pond to have been collected.
Just past this on the same side of the road (opposite wood on the left) was the Norfolk Cemetery, extending to the intersection of Main with Seekonk Street and Needham Street (names that seem odd because neither of these goes to the entitled municipality). I went south on Needham, passing an old house on the corner with a newspaper box for the Woonsocket Call, showing that this area is near Rhode Island.
I would also see such indications of the Attleboro Sun and the Milford News, not to mention the Boston Globe. Query: Is there a discipline newspaper geography?
Proceeding down this shady street, with a cool breeze, I saw houses on the right and woods on the left. Noticing a trail into the latter, I went down in search of a comfort stop. I found wooden remains - of what? There were piles of wood, not to mention a host of bugs that, typicall,y took advantage of my impeded condition to attack me.
It occurred to me that I had forgotten to pack insect repellant, which I usually carry in the summer (not that it seems to do any good), a bad omission in a very active season for insects. In re-routing my walk after the error in Walpole, I had thought that I might go through the Bristol Blake State Reservation and get to Grove Street. That would correct my course back more to the intended western direction. However, going through a wooded area was uninviting if such pestiferous assaults were an outcome.
Returning to Needham, I stepped over a dead muskrat
opposite Spring
Street on the right. Now thee were woods on both sides of the street.
On the left, I eventually saw the other end of that unnamed street
that went beside MCI Norfolk; a No Trespassing sign confirmed my decision
not to use that shortcut.
Some houses began to appear amid woods and fields, the former farming character being evident. Two dogs stared and barked at me at one point. I sometimes answer such "communication" in kind; but in this case their tenor was a little too menacing, and, besides, it was rather hot for such vocal exercise.
For a stretch, it was homes on the left and woods on the right; then, the reverse. Some lilacs added to my discomfort; I had forgotten to take an allergy pill that morning, too.
Eventually, I came to Route 115, with North Street headed in that direction and Pond Street going south. I had years ago followed that route on a walk that began in Needham and ended in Mansfield.
Opposite on the right was the Bristol Blake State Reservation, a place name collected on that prior location. However, it seems that this parkland also includes, or is adjacent to, the Stony Brook Nature Center, which surrounds Stony Brook Pond. A sign indicated that the Center was 600 feet down the road (North Street, which turns from southeast to southwest at this intersection).
I saw a trail before the entrance, but a sign said that it was closed for maintenance. Looking down it at a gaggle of geese in and beside the pond, I obediently rejected the idea of taking it. But I was still contemplating a walk around the pond, thinking that there was no need to hurry, since there was no inherent reason (such as an interesting new locality) to get beyond Franklin, anyhow.
Reaching the main entrance, beyond which was a parking lot with an open field behind it, I saw a building. In front of it was a sign with some general information about the Center, including the fact that a three dollar fee is requested to visit it. Between this admittedly very minor economic disincentive and the more compelling fear of insect harassment, I decided I would stick to the roadway and leave the wilderness to some (still undetermined) future walk, preferably in the cooler seasons. (Though the scenery may be less verdant then, I'd rather do such hiking out of the Lyme Disease period.)
Besides there was no real reason to leave North Street, since I had never walked it before. Accordingly, I gave up the idea of a nature excursion and returned to that thoroughfare. On the other side of the street, I noticed, was still another wilderness area, an Audobon Society wildlife sanctuary. This had a trail right here - for free. But the direction was opposite from my destination so I just tried to add it mentally to that potential walk (maybe Southeast from Norfolk?) that would include passage through Bristol Blake and by Stony Brook Pond.
Accordingly, I went south on North Street, passing houses and woods. I took a brief pause from walking to study the map and figure out a route that would bring me around the center of Franklin. This would get me back toward where I had originally planned to go and would also take me to an area where liquid refreshment, and possibly lunch (time for the latter being allowed, though whether my appetite would support it was another question). But, I reflected, that would be a long time in coming; and the chance that I would in the meantime find a store or some other place to ward off growing dehydration did not seem good, from what I remembered of this territory.
Because of its situation at the end of a commuter rail line, I have done a lot of walking in Franklin. It is one of those towns that have gone from being rather scenic and rural to overdeveloped monotonousness.
North Street had some nice houses of the relatively older variety; I thought the Carrs' had a notably nice lawn. At Diamond Street, whose sign was down, I turned west. On my left, I saw a horse in a field that presumably once was a farm.
Very shortly, I observed what I call a "confirming mailbox"; i.e., it contained the name of the street I wanted (not that I could have been on anything else). There was another ex-farm on the right. I passed more woods and houses - a theme of this walk.
I had now gone two hours and was very thirsty. But there was nothing to do about that except to keep walking and hope that my negative expectations about commercial establishments would prove unfounded.
At Union Street, I observed some development to the north on the right, as usual of larger homes colonial in pattern. (If we have to destroy the wilderness, couldn't it be for something of architectural originality?) On my left was a large rock.
I went south on Union for a stretch that will be retraced on a future South from Norfolk walk. I passed more homes and more lilacs. I noted especially a brown house with orange trim that at least was pretty, or at least different. On my left, I passed more former farm land. A police car from Millis went by in the direction of that town.
At my turn, King Street, I noted a sign denoting this instersection as George Hassler Memorial Square. Norfolk has distinctive large, yellow on black commemorative markers. The street sign for King was down, but I soon got another confirming mailbox.
Once again, I viewed houses and woods. I also passed the King Philip Regional Junior High School. Wisps of clouds were out, and there was a cool breeze.
Just before my next turn, Maple Street, was some undeveloped land. Once again Maple did not have a sign. (Is the Norfolk street department incompetent or was this triple streak just a bad accident?)
Maple is a residential road with older and newer homes. On my left, I passed Shady Way, observing that is was entirely covered with sunlight. Here I passed some contemporary colonials, my least favorite form of architecture, but I must admit these were relatively nice looking. On the left came some undeveloped land, but orange flags indicated that more destruction of nature was coming.
At Essex Street, running north, was a large cluster of contemporary colonials. Then, on the left, more woods was seen, with some houses on the right. Next came an undeveloped area on the left, with trails and signs declaring it "Posted - No Hunting, No Fishing, No Trapping" by the Norfolk Conservation Commission. Later I saw some trails (or were they roads?) into this land.
Reaching Park Street, I went north, noting that the street signs had now become street poles. (I disapprove of the latter, as they as harder to read.) I saw a house, and then woods, on the left; to the right was Maple Park Estates, with new development down Hampton Road.
I reached a little triangular street island, walking around it to collect its commemorative name: Richard J. Curtis Memorial Square. I also noticed there was no street sign again. (Maybe Norfolk just likes to keep people confused!) But this was obviously Lawrence Street, my route.
I went west on Lawrence over a 1915 stone bridge "through" Bush Pond. Being virtually unmarred by human development, this proved to be the scenic highlight of the walk. On the right, before the pond, I thought I noticed a trail; checking the Universal atlas that night confirmed that theory.
Past the pond on the right was a way leading to Buckley and Mann, Inc., established 1901. The nature of this business, which may no longer be operational, looked agricultural. I walked uphill, with more colonial homes on the left. At Eagle Drive, on my left, were even more new homes, plus lots in development.
On my right I passed a nice homes with a "barn" (maybe an imitation one) for rent. I heard an at first unfamiliar sound, then saw a rooster go by. He was the image of the proud cock!
When I lived in Braintree the Sewall family down the street, for some unimaginable reason, had a rooster for a while. I would hear it as I walked on my way to the school bus, imagining that some day I could tell future generations that I was no city boy, having often got up at the cock's crow. A wish accomplished!
I went by a former farm on the left, with an old barn and a mailbox with the name Brett. Then came Brett's Farm Road, with colonials where the farmland used to be - ugh! Next came a stretch with undeveloped land on both sides of the street, followed by more houses.
I saw ahead a change in the pavement and knew by this that the border with Franklin was at hand (or should I say at foot?). Norfolk's Lawrence became Franklin's Mill Street. I was in the Acorn Terrace section.
At the left, I saw Concetta Way. This did not agree with my map: evidently there has been some new street construction, as the Universal atlas does show it. (Universal's map for Franklin incorrectly shows Lawrence in Norfolk as Mill Street also; its one for Norfolk has this right.)
You can rest assured that I have the latest version of both the Arrow and the Universal atlases. The former is better, but neither is beyond reproach; and they frequently vary as to place names. These documents, together with the New York Times, the beer list at Sunset Grille, and the reviews in Maximumrocknroll are at the summit of my most frequently and seriously consulted reading matter.
I had now gone three hours and my pace was slowing down. Dehydration produces fantasies: Earlier in Norfolk I had mused over trying the water from the sprinklers on lawns. Now, in Franklin, I was wondering if I might by fortune run across Donna Cummings, an employee of my department. Surely she would give me a drink of water! It was fortunate that I did not know her address or else I might have been tempted to divert from my route.
I continued through a residential area, noting people mowing lawns. On my right I caught a view of the upcoming Chestnut Street, passing by the Acorn Animal Hospital. I remembered this trace of the locality name from a previous walk from Franklin to Westwood.
Indeed, I now was forced to repeat a portion of that route by going north on Chestnut. To avoid this repetition, I made a detour east onto Acorn Place, following my rules despite the strong advisability of going in a direction that would take me to liquids and the extreme unlikelihood of finding anything interesting down this side street.
Before someone sends the obssesive-complusive rescue squad after me let me offer this justification: By avoiding as much as possible travelling over roads I have already walked, I am maximizing the amount of new things that I can see. I believe that having new experiences is a better way of living than repeating old ones.
My
expectation that Acorn Place would just be more "woods and houses"
was correct. In fact, it proved even worse. I passed Cardinal
Drive on my left (not on Arrow, but on Universal), saw the Acorn Woods
development (in which all the trees had been torn down!), looked down Acorn
Place Extension, and took a left on Acorn Place. All over were the
dreaded cc's (i.e., contemporary colonials), most in huge clusters, like
an aggregation of, let us say, hippopotamuses.
Not that I myself dislike hippopotamuses; on the contrary, especially compared to cc's, I think they are quite attractive creatures. I am floundering for a metaphor to convery the vision of oversized uglines that most residential development inspires in me.
To the right, on Meadowlark Lane (a typically stupid developer's name - obviously, the breeding places for these birds, if ever they were there, have been wiped out by what human beings stupidly call progress - that is not on Arrow or Universal), there was a scenic vista in the process of being ruined by construction work. I went under a narrow stone railroad bridge (used by the commuter rail and, I think, other traffic), a old piece of construction that actually seemed aesthetic in comparison with the new structures in its vicinity, and returned to Chestnut Street.
I went a few feet south, then took Griffin Road. Here I entered a neighborhood, called Hampton Court (but, unless there is some sanction by map or other sources, I do not collect development names), with comparatively large and well-spaced homes. These were attractive, even fine maybe, and had tall pine trees around them; but by this point I was thoroughly sick of residential construction, especially as my thirst was getting in the way of my observational powers.
The street ended - a fact not indicated on the Arrow and Universal maps. Ahead lay a fence, with an open gate, beyond which lay a dirt trail, which I followed it to Pleasant Street, crossing to Miller Street. As I followed Miller, I saw woods and a field with a rusted tractor on my left, homes on the right. At the mailbox for 5 Miller was a balloon proclaiming "It's a Girl!"
At the end of Miller, I turned left onto Long Hill Road. Especially as I was indeed going uphill, I wondered whether this name indicated a locality. (But, while the USGS lists thirteen summits in Massachusetts with this name, none of them are in Franklin.)
On the right I saw Symmes Acres, with lots of large new homes on Ladyslipper Lane. As I passed Pheasanthill Street (that is how the sign read; the maps have this as two words), I actually started to speed up my pace, no mean feat considering my condition. My idea was that I could get to downtown Franklin in four hours, thereby having some time to eat. I could then divide the remaining time to going further west and then returning.
After Pine Ridge Road, I saw a "No Thru Way" ahead. But I kept on, observing new construction in progress,and soon following a dirt trail. There were many orange flags. I could see houses through the woods on the right. I thought these were on Lincoln Street, but a more careful examination of the map now convinces me that they were on side streets between Long Hill and Lincoln.
I passed an isolated telephone pole on my right and some rocks on my left. I began to think that this wilderness passage might afford an opportunity for a comfort stop. However, the area was not all that secluded and, on hearing voices up ahead, I was dissuaded from this idea.
The sounds were from a woman and three children, with whom I exchanged greetings in passing. Then I arrived at some houses and a street. The four-hour mark had now been reached.
I assumed that the street must be Long Hill. But, when I saw Arrowhead Lane go by, I realized I was off course. I must be on Flintlock Street. There was nothing to do except to continue.
I passed the Franklin Dance Company (not appearing quite up to the crowned heads of Europe) and a Town of Franklin booster station. Now I was at (I correctly supposed) Pleasant Street.
This was not a pleasant experience! Not only had I gotten lost, but I was now on a street covered in a former walk. I kept going west, checking the map and obstinately thinking that, if a side street could get me to a possible continuation of Long Hill, I would try it.
On the left, I went by woods with several trails. (Just after passing through this section, I realized I should have taken one of these for a comfort stop. "Never go back" is one of my principles, however.) On the right I passed the Tire Warehouse, a smaller establishment than the name might imply.
Houses were on both sides of the street now. I exchanged hellos with a man on a roof. I encountered St. John's Episcopal Church, which I remembered from my prior walk, and noted that it was ecumenically advertising an upcoming Knights of Columbus silent auction. On my right, I saw a new dead-end street (Padden Street) and development (Padden Estates).
It had clouded over now, but remained hot and humid. I was rather exhausted, but, even though it would cause me more time before I could get to my presumed source of rehydration, I was determined to find out what had happened to Long Hill Street.
So when I saw Monterey Drive on the right side of the street and noted that the Arrow map showed this connected to Long Hill, I went uphill on that road, passing a sign and a shack denoting the entrance to Pleasant View Estates. A cool breeze furnished some relief.
I passed new, fine houses, with Levy Landscaping working on one of them to my left. Then the street ended. I was so disgusted with the idea of having to return to Pleasant Street that I might have tried walking through the woods here. But now I saw a dirt path running perpendicular to Monterey. Thinking this must be the continuation of Long Hill, I went west on it. (Information from a Franklin informant indicates that this supposition may have correct, even though I was soon to doubt it.)
On the left was a wire fence; behind it seemed to be overgrown farm land, with a building that could have been a farmhouse. I could see houses through the trees on the right. A train whistle could be heard in the distance.
Then I came upon a paved road. As the fence ended, I was able to go into the somewhat wooded area here for comfort purposes. Returning to the road, I realized that I had dropped my pen! A search through the underbrush was futile.
Now I can imagine Columbus dropping a pen overboard, but would he really be so foolish as to go forth exploring with only one pen? Why, I asked myself, don't I carry a spare in my pack? After all, a pen could run dry, too. Was my lack of preparation going to deprive millions of Internet readers of unrecorded details? Not if I could help it!
To the goal of finding drink and food was therefore added that of getting another pen. As I headed down the road, I tried to force my memory to work harder, as well as to walk faster toward the place where such things could be had.
It was soon appeared to me that I was not in fact on Long Hill. I passed California Avenue, too bothered now even to want to look at the map. (I assume that an all too human feeling was at work here: Desperate to cover up error, I at times plunge on as if hoping that palpable evidence will be wrong and that I will somehow come out where I planned to be.) But when Anthony Street appeared, it was clearly necessary to take my bearings to prevent getting further astray.
I saw that I was on Pinehurst Street at a little triangular intersection, surrounded by smaller and older homes. One of the streets must be Moore Avenue, which would take me to Main Street. Anything but going back to Pleasant, I decided, even though Main Street would be a repeat also.
At
Main, I turned west. I began to remember sights from my earlier walk
on this street, such as the historic Brick
School, which had an ornamental flag. Downtown
Franklin ("Franklin Center" does not seem to be a term in
use) has a goodly number of attractive nineteenth century homes. A
woman passing and I exchanged greetings. I noted a man delivering
parcels from a truck marked Toco, a business in Bloomfield, Connecticut.
"Along way from home," I thought.
St. Mary's Church passed by on the right; on the left was Franklin Federated Church, a union of Congregationalists and Baptists, with two ministers. Then I went by the "'park" - to uses the maps' term, though "common" would have been what I expected.
Next came the Benjamin Franklin Classical Charter School, then Dean College, with a couple of nice older buildings and some newer undistinguished ones. There are a variety of eating establishments here, I recollected, but I was not up for real food.
If I do not eat breakfast, exercise apparently takes over from appetite. When this happens, the desire for food does not reappear until an hour or so after the walk. In the past I sometimes tried to eat at the end of the walk while waiting for a train or bus, but I have come to prefer to fill up such time with more walking and to eat when I get back to Boston and have the desire for it.
Accordingly, I found a general store and got a chocolate milk. This also provided me with a phone to leave a message for Cathy. And it sold pens - I even found a double set! Amenity piled upon amenity, as I found that it has table to sit on, where I finished my drink and wrote out some notes.
Although this place had a counter that apparently offered coffee and soup, this did not seem appetizing. I walked around the shelves, which had various food products, none of them any improvement on the peanut butter crackers that I carried in my pack. So I went out and headed further into downtown, in quest of some kind of food, though not knowing what.
Rejecting a couple of bar-type places, I reached Central Street (Route 140) and was about to give up on this rather ill-defined quest when I saw just what I wanted: a Friendly's. Not feeling inclined to sit down, I went to the take-out window and got a dish of Vienna Chocolate Chunk.
Those who have chronologically followed my June narratives will perhaps be struck by that fact of three in a row involving ice cream for breakfast or lunch. I would say that this is a coincidence based on competition from opportunities for real breakfast fare not arising. But it is true that ice cream remains one of my interests. In my youth, new ice cream flavors and types of sundaes were as intriguing as new beers and new localities are to me now.
Friendly's was very big with my set in high school and in college, both for ice cream and burgers. Ever since the Blake family sold out to Hersey's, however, it has gone quite downhill. (Hershey's subsequently sold it to local owners, but without improvement.) Even so, it is still one of the few chains that I patronize. (I do not do fast food, but Friendly's rates, I would say, better than that level, being in a category just above fast food, and just below family restaurants.) Certainly the Blakes would be astonished, if not appalled, to see what is on the Friendly menu these days.
I reversed my route, eating my dish of ice cream, and contemplating options for finishing my walk. I had done six hours, enough for some people and even for me on some occasions. But my allotment today had been seven hours. Ultimately, I decided that I would extend the walk to eight hours and plunge on westward. I could go one and a half hours in that direction and then return east. By ending at Forge Park (the end of the Franklin line), I could make allowance for the obvious fact that I would have to slow down in the final ninety minutes.
I presumed that I would get to Bellingham and even correctly guessed where I would turn back. My original plan allowed for possible continuation further into Bellingham, but I invariably overestimate in that way. Even now I still hoped I would go farther than I was able, for what ever reason - pride in distance, wish to meet objectives, optimism, hope of finding new places - possibly all of these.
So I headed back to where I had intended to go west from Main Street, namely, at Maple Street. (Oak Street had already been covered on a previous walk, Framingham to Franklin.) I observed in reverse order the sights just described, as well as some that I had not already heeded.
I
noticed the Ray Memorial Library, with a sign declaring it to be the oldest
public library in America (under the former name of Franklin Public Library).
I wondered about the accuracy of this claim, and an Alta Vista search
reveals that there are other claimants: Charleston,
South Carolina, Peterboro,
New Hampshire, Philadelphia,
and Virginia
all have defenders to that title, and Franklin, Massachusetts (as opposed
to Benjamin Franklin) none, in cyberspace. (With more credibility,
Franklin claims to be the first town named after Benjamin
Franklin.)
Once more I enjoyed the attractive older residences, noting one dating to 1820 and another one to 1850. I passed the park again. This has memorials for each war that the United States has fought, and I noted those for the Civil War, the Persian Gulf War, and the Spanish-American War.
Then I reached my corner, with the Brick School, and turned onto Maple Street. I expected a long, residential course that would allow no opportunity for liquid refreshment, with dehydration setting in again before I had gone very far. And I was right!
It was now cloudy and humid; despite my rest and nourishment, I was pretty tired. Still, I was confident that I would make the 4:00 PM train.
Right at the beginning of Maple I saw a nice 1790 red and white house, with a barn. Then, on my right was Longley Field, part of Dean College.
As I walked, I saw a shower of what, in my botanical ignorance, I supposed to be some kind of spores, flowing over the highway in great profusion. I would see more of the same later on this road. The sight produced a sensation of exoticism, and I convinced myself that I had never experienced such a phenomenon before. (Later, when I got home and saw some of the same things floating around in Back Bay - admittedly in scant numbers - this feeling seemed in retrospect to be heat-inspired delusion.)
Walking by more homes, I saw another field on the right (another part of Longley?), with some kids kicking a football. Further on the right I saw a sign "Hay for sale". But this was a relic of older days: a new development of contemporary colonials called Saddlebrook Village was now on this spot.
On the left, I passed Heather Lane, not on the Arrow map, followed by a Jehovah's Witnesses hall. At 279, I saw a large house with a stone porch, looking somewhat in disrepair but doubtless formerly quite impressive. Innkeeper Street (not on Arrow, but on Universal) went by on the left, as did Franklin Springs Road (ditto, mapwise).
After more homes, I went by woods, in which there appeared to be some trails, on the left. On the right was swampland. Then, on both sides of the roads, were fields.
To my left, I saw a rather rundown barn with piles of wood. At the end of the former farm field was a basketball goal. On the right, I saw a sign "E. L. Lynch, Nazarene Woodworker", wondering what that meant.
After passing still more residences (such as a nice ranch owned by the Lincorts), I went left onto Southgate Road. This turn was made to avoid repeating Partridge Street, up ahead, which had already been done on a walk beginning in Norfolk. I was now in the locality known as Westview.
Here I passed a large number of houses appearing to date mostly from around the sixties, densely packed, with many sidestreets. The two nicest homes on Southgate, I thought, were actually two new but old-style ones - a yellow colonial with green trim at 51 and a yellow saltbox with gray trim at 22.
Just after reaching six hours, I turned north on Coronation Drive. One again this was densely residential area. At Annibel Lane, I turned west and soon reach Pond Street. Right across was the Pine Acres Country Day School, seemingly being operated out of a home.
Although mainly residential, Pine has some commercial properties, and I got a fortunate break here. Just ahead northward on my course was a Dairy Mart Convenience Store. I went in and got a root beer. Leaning against the building to drink and rest for a minute, I realized that I was almost exhausted. But, even though I was slowing down, at least I would reach Bellingham. Though that town is not exactly a fascinating destination, Franklin had become so boring that getting out of it was a goal in itself.
Proceeding north again, I noted that the building containing the Dairy Mart also had a new pizza shop. I passed Paulene Drive, then a side street not on the Arrow map (but on Universal), Lasden Brothers Way, with newly constructed contemporary colonials.
At Beech Street, I turned left, noting a sign about a lost cat. I was for a short distance repeating a previous walk. I did not see anything recollected from that occasion, but then again this is a residential road without many distinctive sights. However, even the old stone bridge over Mine Brook, with vista of wetlands left and right, brought no memory from that time, at least several years ago.
Passing more homes, I turned south into new territory at Pine Street. Here there were houses on the left and a stretch of undeveloped land, posted "Keep Out", on the right.
The "houses and woods" theme continued. I exchanged barks with a tethered dog. At 106, I saw some attractive homes amid tall pine trees. At Sunken Meadow Road there was more new development of the "cc" type.
I went by some posted wetlands, then saw up ahead a change in the pavement. A stone marker confirmed that I had reached Bellingham. I saw nice homes, followed by a patch of wetlands.
Finally I came to Maple Street. I had been looking forward to the triple intersection of Pine, Maple and Oak, but the last named street was not apparent. Presumably it was what looked more like a driveway leading to Hiltz Welding, a small outfit specializing in stainless steel and aluminum.
I turned left and was now walking south in North Bellingham, headed for Route 140 and the Forge Park Commuter Station. I saw woods on the left and an overgrown field on the right. Also on the right I noted Ma Glockner's Restaurant, dating to 1937; one may assume that it must be doing something right to survive for sixty years basically in the middle of nowhere.
Looking for items of the map to measure my progress, I was beginning to be concerned about the failure of the Maplegate Country Club to appear, when there it was on my left. It was now 3:00 PM; I got a brief cool breeze. I had been having some doubt about the 4:00 PM train, but it now felt clearly in reach.
I passed homes, woods and wetlands. The sun came out again. On the left I saw undeveloped land with old stone walls; on the right was a former farm now the Wishing Well Kennel, with but one dog visible.
Now I passed over route 495. From the bridge I could see on the left an Entering Franklin sign; Maple Street, especially further south, runs just over, and roughly parallel to, the Bellingham border.
Past the bridge, I observed on the left the entrance to R. J. Cobb Land Clearing, Inc. Down the road, was a view of undeveloped land. On the left I noticed a sign offering fifty acres of "Industrial Land" for sale. The land on the right was posted.
Then on the right came a street sign "High Street Field" and I began to pass a long field, indeed. On this were what a city person might construe to be "bales of grass" but perhaps was actually hay. Whatever the current cultivated state of this field, at its end was another sign about industrial land for sale.
On the left here was a stretch of relatively nice Victorian homes, with more presumably down Stonehedge Road. Then I passed woodlands on the left, with a wire fence, and later stone walls, for a relatively long passage.
I had hoped to be at the point where the railroad tracks cross Maple Street by 3:30, but I still felt OK as to time though not making this mark. On the right appeared a vista with hills in the background. Then I saw the Georgia Pacific Bellingham Distribution Center, with a little pond.
Now I passed over the railroad tracks. I remembered that the MBTA had once announced a study of extending the Franklin line from Forge Park to Bellingham, but I have not heard anything about that since. More fenced woods were on the left; to the right I had a vista of trees.
Now I could see Route 140 (Mechanic Street) up ahead. On the right was a car junkyard. I passed a field on the left and turned left at the intersection. I was now making a double repeat, remembering the Colonial House Restaurant just across the way.
Route 140 is mostly commercial in this area. This route runs all the way from Winchendon to New Bedford. From a point it Taunton to the south it becomes an unwalkable superhighway. I have done it from Mansfield to Milford and have some plans to cover other sections. It is not particularly interesting or easy from a walking standpoint in the Franklin area.
I soon entered Franklin again, with one of those excellent Commonwealth scroll signs informing me that this town was founded in 1778. On the left were stone remains of former buildings. On the right I saw Fine Custom Cabinets.
To ensure a timely ending, I now picked up my pace, going as fast as I could and surprising myself that after seven hours I could still go at top speed. On the left was the large area that was once Garelick Farms. Actually, it still is Garelick, but there are no cows to be seen and the fields have become decayed.
When
I last went through here, there was a large construction site near the
Garelick
headquarters; evidently this turned out to be the new Franklin Plastics
building that I now saw. Beyond this were the silos, trucks, etc.
of Garelick. I surmised that Garelick is not actually dairying, just
processing and
distributing these days; and the Internet confirms this.
It was now 3:45 PM and things were getting close. But the, up
ahead on the right, I saw a large stone wall which I remembered as a marker
of the Forge Park Industrial Park. The T
station would be just ahead of this on the right.
I continued to hurry, crossing the street and entering the station, in which I could see people exiting from the outbound train. I had time to get a soda from a machine before the train left promptly, at the peculiarly "railroad" time 4:01. I greatly enjoyed its air conditioning, and, as an added bonus, it made a deviation from the schedule and stopped at Back Bay Station.
This was not an especially interesting walk, being all through areas previously visited and gaining only a small number of localities, and those somewhat by stretching. Planning-wise, it was OK; though it went somewhat "over budget", the heat problem was a rather justifiable excuse..
Name: West from Walpole
Path: Walpole - Bellingham - Forge Park
Date: June 17, 1997
Time: 7.75 hours
Weather: Cloudy, then sunny, then cloudy; hot and humid; dehydrating, with some cool breezes
Roadkill: muskrat (Norfolk); bird (pigeon?) (Bellingham)
Municipalities: Walpole, Norfolk, Franklin, Bellingham
Localities: Walpole, West Walpole, Highland Lake, Stony Brook, Bristol Blake State Reservation, Stony Brook Pond, Stony Brook Nature Center, Hassler Square, Curtis Square, Bush Pond, Acorn Terrace, Westview, Mine Brook, North Bellingham, Forge Park
Highlight: Bush Pond
Lowlighht: Disappearances of Long Hill Street, Franklin
New walks: S from Norfolk
SE
from Norfolk
S
from Franklin
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(c) James Murphy, 1997
Last updated August 10, 1997