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June 25, 1997
7.5 hours
This walk can be considered the third leg in my progress north from
Boston along U.
S. 1. In the first, I went from Chelsea
to Peabody.
Later, in a walk from Greenwood
to Hamilton,
I did a stretch from Peabody
to Danvers.
U. S. 1 is in many places not walkable. In such cases, I have the following policy: (1) find a walkable route as close to the highway as possible or (2) when the course has been altered, follow the old route. By the way, if anyone knows of a source of historic information about federal routes that pass through Massachusetts, I would be grateful to learn about it.
To get to the place where I left off, I began this walk in what the MBTA calls Danvers Square (and the Arrow Map Company, Danvers). This involved my first ever commuter rail plus bus prelude: I took the commuter rail to Salem, where I got the 468 bus to Danvers.
I got off the bus at the stop at the corner of Lummus Avenue and Maple Street. The latter road is Route 35 here; I covered this in a walk from Salem to Hamilton, which added Topsfield to my collection.
It was 7:45 AM, and I crossed Maple opposite a Gibbs Gas Station to take Hobart Street, the technical start of new territory. At its start, this road is mainly commercial. Walking on the sidewalk on the right side, I passed Betty Ann's Sub Shop and Jack's Barber Shop.
Danvers has many old homes and is zealous about historical markers. Here I saw the 1841 house of Nathan Cross, a shoe cutter. I also saw Cathy's Flowers, the Danvers Auto Center, and the 88 Chinese Restaurant.
On the left, I observed a pile of sewer pipes in a lot, followed by the Cherry Street Fish Market. Then came Russ Treadwell's Ice Cream, with a police car and a tour bus in its parking lot. (I once stopped at their place in North Andover and would give them a good report.) .
To the right I passed some power lines, with a crew doing some work. The sun began to come out, and I could already tell that the weather was going to be oppressive.
Hobart had now become residential on both sides of the street. I saw the 1857 home of John Collins. At 55, there was a house with nice flowers and hedges.
I passed the Wildewood Condominium. On the left, I saw what looked like a baseball field reverting to nature, with marshland behind it. On my right, I went by the Danvers Department of Public Works. A sign stated that there was no more recycling drop-off since a curbside program was now operating.
Walking uphill, I saw older homes, including that of Albert Jones, a box maker. This was indicated as circa 1903, leading me to think that Danvers was maybe pushing it by bringing historical markers into the present century. (It also occurred to me that one of the disadvantages of apartment living is that it precludes a sign "James Murphy, Human Resources Director, 1997".)
At Pine Street, the sidewalk ran out; so I crossed to the left. Here there were relatively newer residences. At 136, one was for sale, boasting an "in-law apartment".
The sun had come out again, but I nonetheless walking quite fast. On my right I saw St. Mary of the Annunciation Cemetery, which I would guess is twentieth century in origin.
Also on the right was the Clark Farm, dating to 1728 and still in business, though obviously on a different manner and scale. I saw greenhouses and noted that strawberries were on sale. Amidst the remnants of cultivated fields was large new house up a hill and a red barn, with a rusted tractor beside it.
Then, to the left, in front of what probably was a former farm but is now a soccer field, I saw monument to the Salem "witch hysteria". At the time of that example of religious based superstition (concerning which, however, it might be said that the ethical side of New England puritanism finally defeated it), the town of Danvers did not yet exist. This area was then Salem Village; Arrow calls it Danvers Center.
The monument listed the names of those persecuted, with various details and animadversions. Behind it was a small green area, being cut by the operator of a tractor-like mowing machine. Ignoring the latter, I went toward the field, noting two portable toilets and following my principle of using such amenities when they present themselves.
Exiting this product of Handy House, I returned to the road. I observed still another historical marker (erected in 1992 by the Danvers Historical Commission, for which we presumably have to thank all those house signs). This noted that across the street had stood the 1692 meetinghouse, where the hysterical business had actually taken place and which had fallen into disuse around 1702.
On the right, at Forest Street, I saw an old red house. The street sign here also had a pointer to St. Richard's.
I passed the Highlands Elementary School on my left. Since I was indeed going uphill, I wondered if there is a place name Danvers Highlands. (However, I can find no support for this theory.)
Now I reached Centre Street, done on a previous walk. At the corner I remembered the not bad looking First Church of Danvers (Congregationalist), with a four-faced clock on top of what might be termed a mini-steeple. A sign announced a sermon as, "Who needs God and prayer?" "Exactly!" I thought.
I went east (right), passing older, attractive homes. On the right I saw a greenhouse offering wreaths, perennials and trees.
I saw the 1848 home of John Morrison, a cordwainer. On the right, I passed a small trail leading to the Samuel Parrs (1681-1764) Archaeological Site. "Enter at your own risk" read a sign. I wondered if this referred to the slippery flagstones, or the ghost of Parrs, or whatever. After passing a very nice hold home on which it seemed strange not to see a marker, I saw that of Joseph Prentiss, 1854, shoe manufacturer.
Then I came to the Training Field, a rather small but pretty landmark. In 1709, I learned from a marker, Dean Nathaniel Ingersoll bequeathed this land "to the inhabitants of Salem Village for a training field forever". In April, 1775, three hundred men in nine companies assembled there for the Battle of Lexington. In this struggle (which, according to some authorities, particularly those in Concord, should actually be considered the Battle of Concord), Salem lost nine men, second only to Lexington in casualties.
Deacon Ingersoll must have been thinking of Indian wars, however. What he would think of the fact that such fields are now unneeded for military purposes can only be imagined.
As of Ingersoll Parkway (an old street as narrow as a driveway), where I had turned on another walk, I was now making a double repeat up to U.S. 1. I saw a sign on an old home indicating that the Upton Tavern (1710) had been there.
On the right, I passed three very nice old houses. One was flying the Italian flag. The second had a sign noting it to be the 1872 home of Alfred Hutchinson, a shoe manufacturer. (From markers observed in former walks, it is clear that the shoe industry was once very significant in old Danvers.) The third was yellow, with a yellow barn.
On the left I noted a road leading to what seemed to be a factory, with a parking lot filled with cars. No more than on prior occasions, could I discern what it was, however. Crossing to the left hand side of the street, I went over route I-95 and then under Route 1, which runs parallel to it for some distance here.
Up ahead I remembered the Comfort Inn on a hill. Being scrupulous about connected routes, I tried to remember whether I should go left or right on Armory Road to return to the exact point where I had previously left off U. S. 1. A sign pointing to Calitri's to the right should have told me to go in that direction; but, deciding to be conservative against the "horrible" idea of having left one small segment of U.S. 1 actually not walked, I went left.
I ate at Calitri's on the walk that last included U.S. 1. If you are looking for an Italian family style restaurant, I definitely recommend it.
I saw the National Guard Armory on the right; and, when I recollected the back of a strip mall (one of those with a fake "colonial" apperance), I realized that I had been this way before. I cut through the mall and headed north on U. S. 1, passing Calitri's.
It was 8:35. Though I had had sufficient doubts about getting all the way to Newburyport as to have a backup plan to abort at Ipswich and head for the commuter rail there, it now seemed that I would be able to go the distance without difficulty. My goal was the 3:30 bus, but I might get there so soon as to take the 2:45. (Such optimistic predictions, as I actually realized at this point, are invariably wrong.)
"Uphill to Newburyport," I thought. And indeed I was aware, from prior walks cutting across U. S. 1, that from here on in northward there is a series of hills, making the distance all the more difficult to complete - as if the hot sun were not trouble enough.
On the left, I passed the Swingaway Golf, offering a driving range, "with covered and heated tees" and "mini indoor jungle golf", the latter a concept unknown to me. After this, the sidewalk ended. "Oh, great," I thought, "grass shoulders" to Newburyport." But in fact there more sidewalks to come, though walking in the breakdown lane was necessary in some places.
Through Danvers, U.S. 1 is so much "commercial clutter". On the right I saw Honda North, with a view of I-95. Behind that, lay Endicott Park, which I walked through once, was visible.
I was entering the section of Danvers called Hathorne, a place name that, as such things go, has a greater than average usage level. Not only is it on all the maps; there is even a zip code and a Yahoo Local for it! (The great Amercian author Nathaniel changed his name from that spelling to Hawthorne, a fact that you might bear in mind if ever searching the Internet for the locality.)
On the left was a small undeveloped stretch (behind which is Danvers Industrial Park), with an electrical station in it. Then I saw Hansen Engineering. At Drayton Street, I saw two businesses, one of which was Bradford and Bigelow. On the right here, a sign offered land for sale.
To the left, I could now view the Industrial Park. I saw that "office units" were available at 2 Electronic Avenue, a large building on which I saw workers on the roof.
On the right could be seen the Extra Innings baseball and software training center, as well as Baystate Office Furnishings. Walking uphill, I passed undeveloped land and a field that might have been under cultivation (as a city person, I am not good at agricultural observation!). On the right was the Village Green Super 8 Motel, then Putnam Pantry Candies (which also sells ice cream).
At Maple Street, on the left, I saw the headquarters of Massachusetts Special Olympics, with a sign thanking the Knights of Columbus for their support. Then came Sports Specials, a store, with Supino's Restaurant behind it.
I went over Route 62 on a large interchange, remembering how I had done that route from Bedford to Beverly on a nine-hour walk. On the left, I saw a large, two-story State Police building (the headquaarters, I learned from the Internet, of Troop A). On the right was Danvers Plaza, with a Stop and Shop and a Rich's. (These are both incorrectly shown on the Yahoo and Lycos maps. The problem may be that there is another Danvers Plaza; the one here is also known as the Route 1 Plaza.)
I had passed the one hour mark without noting it. Next I met a man with a bag who was trying to hitchhike. "How far is it to Lynn?" he asked. I told him it was many miles, which appeared to be upsetting news; so I spared him any lectures about the virtues of walking.
Going downhill for a change, I saw Hathorne Green apartments. Then I passed a sign for the Danvers campus of North Shore Community College, noting a "visibility site" maintained by that institution. Walking on grass now, I endured the terribly hot son, with some flowering plants as adding to my misery (for I had forgotten to take an allergy pill that morning).
On a large hill to the left, I saw the Tara Hotel. I also noted a sign for Ferncroft , with some national flags. On the way home on the bus, I noted there are billboards for this along I-95 and wondered again what it is. From the Internet, I learned that it is a conference room at the hotel.
I trudged through a huge cloverleaf intersection over I-95, scarcely designed for pedestrian convenience. As a truck for the Ipswich Shellfish Company went by, I thought, "Headed your way."
Past the interchange, I saw N. N. Flynn Contracting Company, with a goodly number of apparatus and piles of dirt seemingly indicating that construction was going on at their very own site Then, on seeing an "End Construction" sign, I prepared myself for more trouble. But it turned out not to be so difficult. An Allied Van/Wakefield Moving truck went by; the Allied logo, which has U. S. 1 on it, seemed apropos.
Looking to my left, I saw Burda Brothers Auto Body, a small business in front of the Flynn company. Up ahead were a Mobil station on the left and a Texaco on the right. Since someone was using the one phone booth at Mobil, I crossed over to use one of those at Texaco to leave a message for Cathy. As I did so, a sprinkler splashed on me a bit - not an unpleasant sensation, actually, given the temperature.
I stopped for a strawberry milk from the Texaco mini convenience store. Then I went back to the left side of the street to resume my northern journey. On the right was a shopping plaza. I passed the construction on my left and noted that Wakefield Moving has a facility here (so the truck was not so far from home base, after all). I passed a trailer park. After this came the Four Sixty Six Pub and Grille, whose awning told me that this was 466 Newbury Street.
Shaded by some trees, with a cool breeze, I went uphill, passing the Northeast Mini-Warehouse. On the right I noted a Mile 65 sign. Generally I make use of these to gauge my pace; so I checked my watch accordingly. Something about the conditions on this walk did not make such measurement gratifying. In weather as hot as this I generally do no more than 3 mph, as I very loosely calculated for this trip later. In the colder seasons my speed gets up to 5 mph or more.
On the left I passed undeveloped land, and fields on the right. I saw from my Rand-McNally map that I had gone over Nichols Brook at some point around here, but I had not noticed it. (Arrow and Universal do not show this feature; as Rand-McNally and USGS indicate, it arises in Danvers, passing under U.S. 1, and ends at the Ipswich River..
Not only is Rand-McNally on the Internet - they even take e-mail. Interestingly, they seem to have a different tradition of place names than Arrow or Universal in regard to many localities. They are also considerably better with respect to topographic features than their competitors. If only for scale reasons, however, I prefer Arrow.
A sign on the right warned "Falling Rocks". Then, on the left, previously obscured by a tree, I saw a Commonwealth "Entering Topsfield (1650)" sign.
Topsfield and its neighbor Middleton are very scenic towns that have resisted overdevelopment. And so it proved to be on this route: This was the only part of my trip along Route 1 where commercial property was absent, though later I would see some further north in Topsfield.
Right here there were woods on both sides of the street. And I began to ascend a series of hills that, at times, I found some difficulty in correlating with the map. (This difficulty was compounded when I later compared Rand-McNally, Arrow and Universal. It is fascinating to me how the different mapmakers - plus USGS - will often have different names for the same places.)
I was now going up Rea Farm Hill, either a locality or a topgraphic name depending on which map is consulted. (USGS and the Omni Gazeteer have it as a summit; the latter notes a variant, Rae's Farm Hill.) And, lo and behold, what did I see through the trees to my left but an actual working farm! For all I knew, the people there could have been members of the Rea family.
Arrow, which takes the topographic option, puts the name of the hill further along the road and shows that the "Alfalfa Farm" is here. I would not know alfalfa if I saw it, but an Internet search does indicate that there is an Alfalfa, Inc. in Topsfield.
I continued uphill, now seeing stone retaining walls on the right. Doubtless these were responisble for the warning sign at the bottom. On the right, I observed the entrance, also marked by a "Private Property" sign, to Nike Village. I wondered what this was; the Arrow map marks it.. From the fact that the sign cited Plowshares, Timshel and Serenity I supposed that it did not deal with sneakers or obsolete missiles, but perhaps religion or substance abuse. Whatever the case may be, however, I found out that it once was the site of a Nike missile base.
On the left, I observed an overgrown farm. Proceeding downhill, I had scenic tree-filled views on both sides of the street. I thanked the Topsfield zoning laws for the shade! Some flowering plants, inducing sniffles, irritated my nose; but on the left I then had a beautiful vista, the kind of natural beauty that is my favorite happening (next, maybe, to a new municipality) on a walk.
Going uphill again, shaded by trees, I saw a small pond or swamp on the left. I also noted a trail. From the appearance of the Mile 66 marker I concluded that I was only doing a weak 3mph pace, but even so I thought that I should be able to reach Newburyport in time.
Stone-and-cement walls were on both sides of the street now, so falling rocks were not a problem on Witch Hill. Just before the top, I passed Garden Street. On reaching the crest, I noted a stand of pine and other trees. On the right was an old farmhouse with a "Hay" sign.
I passed on left another old home with an ex-farmhouse appearance. On the right I could see actual agricultural operations conforming to the advertisement. Then, on the left, came a field with five horses in it. Further on the right, houses were visible through the trees.
Going uphill again, I saw woods on the left, with a stone wall, on top of which was a fence. At the top of the next hill (which I assume to be Pingrees Hill, collected on another walk) there was a scenic view to the west. I had now reached the two hour mark.
Crossing Salem Street, just after the crest of the hill, I enjoyed shade and a breeze as I descended. I crossed some power lines and saw a view of the next hill up ahead. On the right, I observed stone columnar structures indicating the (seemingly former) entrance to - something.
On the left I saw a field behind the trees. Next I crossed a stone bridge over the Ipswich River, which looked rather narrow here. There were fields on both sides of the road; and ahead, on the right, the grounds of the Topsfield Fair were coming into view. These are quite extensive, and a sign informed me that this is "America's Oldest" fair, found in 1818. (I found nothing on the Internet to rebut this claim.) The dates for this year, I noticed, are October 4 to 13.
A large yellow building appeared on the left, and I remembered passing by the other side of it on my previous walk through Topsfield. At that time I thought it might be part of the Topsfield Fair complex, but I could see now that it was the Essex County Co-op. This establishment was advertising one ten of wood pellets, delivered, for only (I ignorantly thought) $189.
On the left, on the back of a Parking Prohibited sign, I noted a faded "Are You Ready for the Rapture?" poster. I had not seen one of these, which once were all over the Boston area, for a long time. It would seem that this apocalyptic event, predicted by the Mission for the Coming Days, did not actually take place on October 28, 1992 as forecast. But then again, perhaps, as these people claimed would happen, all the saved people actually did ascend to heaven, leaving only the mistaken and the unbelieving behind and a message on the Internet. It could all be part of the Rapture Cover-up.
I passed the Topsfield police station, a brick building with an antenna next to it. At Maple Street, I went by the Boston Street Cemetery, noting nineteenth century graves with names like Towle and Bradstreet. (Boston Street and Newburport Turnpike seem to be alternative names for U. S. 1 in Topsfield.) I also saw the Cottage Place apartments.
This was the most commercial portion of U. S. 1 in Topsfield, but some
residences were 
observable.
On my left, I saw a crow
jumping from the lawn to the roof of the porch of one of these. The
appearance of businesses suggested the possibility of breakfast. But,
while there was time allocated on this walk for eating, I felt no appetite.
I might have tried something light nevertheless, but no food establishment
emerged anyhow.
On the left, I passed Danvers Engine, with lawn mowers on display. I passed a power line, walking uphill again. Then came Signature Motors and AAA RV Sales and Rentals on the left. On the right were Auto Motion and the New England Serum Company (distributors of animal health food).
Beginning at this point, I have found a difficulty in showing my progress via cartographic links. It seems that Yahoo's maps and those of other search engines mislocate addresses along U. S. 1 in Topsfield and in Ipswich. Perhaps there is some database error in their source. I have notified Yahoo and Lycos about this problem without getting an answer.
Now I reached Central Street. At this point, Rand-McNally has Towne Hill as a locality, Arrow Town Hill as a topographic feature. USGS has Town Hill as a summit; there are also features of that name in Ipswich and elsewhere. (Whatever it is, I collected this one on that prior walk.)
I went by an auto business on my left, followed by Lawton Welding, a home, and a warehouse and land for sale. On the right I saw Topsfield Motors, Trireme Manufacturing and Evans Industries ("proud to be ISO 9002 certified").
At the junction of High Street (Route 97, which I have walked from Haverhill to Beverly) was a BankBoston building on the right, looking like a gas station turned into an ATM facility. On the corner to the left, I saw a sign for the Parson Capen House, a national landmark, described as "one of the finest examples of colonial American architecture". Seeing an old yellow building here, now housing a lawyer's office, I thought that this was a somewhat exaggerated description. Then, noting a sign calling this History House, I decided that I must be in error; the Capen House must be down the road. And in fact the map showed me that this is on Howlett Hill Street.
Seeing Dover Hill Road on the right, with new development, I wondered if this indicated a place name. (Once again, I have found no confirmation for this guess.) At 264, the Atwoods' house, a nice old home, indicated that Old English sheepdogs are raised here. Then, in a field past the house, I saw orange flags indicating that another former farm was going to the developers.
Woods were on both sides for a while. On the right, I saw a road to what seemed was the parking lot for some place no longer in existence. At the top of the hill, enjoying some shade, I had a view of the next summit, Great Hill. (USGS shows seven summits with that name in Massachusetts.)
The Woods home, another nice older building, had a large antenna and license plates (W1VYH and W1VYI) indicating ham radio. Next I saw a stone marker on my left reading "NP 12, Boston 20". Obviously, Newburyport was quite within striking distance!
By now, however, my thirst was terrible. However much I appreciated the rustic sights of Topsfield, an opportunity to buy a drink was desperately needed. From a previous walk (from Ipswich to Lawrence), I remembered that in Ipswich, at Linebrook Avenue, was a Cumberland Farms where I had got a beverage on that occasion. That was still far away, but the assurance of liquid refreshment served to keep me going at as steady a pace as the heat permitted.
I saw on the right what looked like an access road to the power lines to the east. Now reaching another hillcrest, I got another cool breeze. I passed by Howlett Street, having no recollection of traversing that road across U. S. 1 on an earlier walk. Now I think I can just barely remember this point, when I went under the highway. (A turnoff gives access from Howlett to the southbound side of U. S. 1 only.)
Going uphill for a short distance, I reached another crest and saw houses (on Ipswich Street, I suppose) to the left and trees to the right. Proceeding downward, both sides offered arboreal vistas. Passing more woods, I went somewhat downward to Ipswich Street, observing undeveloped land.
Opposite Averill Street, on the left, I read a sign on a road to Great Hill Senior Community, with "award winning villages". The awards were probably given by developers, I thought. On the right I saw a rather new office building, colonial-style, as it were, with the Brady Development Corporation, Ja-By Engineering, among others.
At Ipswich Street, an abandoned gas station was for sale. At this point I also crossed Mile Brook, earlier collected on my other walk through Topsfield.
I passed some commercial properties on my left in "Parson's Corner", a row of shops in former motel buildings. The main building of the former motel headquarters was unoccupied; an old sign "Empire Entrance Only" presumably gave its name.
Next came the Yankee Village mini-mall. Reaching another hillcrest, I saw piles of sand to the left and heard the sounds of construction equipment in the distance. As I walked downward and then upward, I saw on this side tall pine trees that I hoped would be spared the developer's ax. On the right side were houses.
I saw another stone marker, inscribed "NP 11 Boston 21," indicating my progress. I also noted Holiday House, a furniture business. On my left I passed undeveloped land. At the next hilltop, I could see still another elevation ahead.
Soon headed upward again, I noticed an area where many trees had been cut down on the left, whether for development or safety reasons. Now I reached another commercial area. M. A. Olson Co., Inc. ("industrial sales engineers" read their sign, "liquid processing equipment" reads their web page) and Ashby Cross (which I assume is some outpost of the Georgia company of the name making "automatic meter, mix and dispense systems") were on the left, while on the other side of the street I noticed Blessington's Trophies and Awards.
Then, on the left, I passed the Topsfield Business Park. On the right, at Campmeeting Road, I could see the Fairview Machinery Company, proclaiming "35 years of superior service". I could not help mentally inquiring, "And how many years of inferior service?".
Also on the right I noted Ipswich Montessori School; this made me check the map to see that I was indeed still in Topsfield. After that came the Ipswich Bay Glass Company, advertising "Help Wanted".
At another summit now, there were woods on the left. Across the street was the Topsfield Animal Hospital, then the New Meadows Professional Building. The latter had me wondering about another possible locality name.
Before Wildes Street, I crossed over Howlett Brook, which I once before traversed on my Route 97 walk. At this street (which, contrary to Arrow and Rand McNally, but as shown correctly by Universal), does not extend to the west but ends at U. S. 1) I saw a sign for the New Meadows Golf Course.
Two instances of such signage usually suffice for me to declare that a place name exists. However, in researching this case I discovered that New Meadows is in fact the old name for Topsfield. According to the Topsfield Vital Records (published by the Topsfield Historical Society in 1903), the native name for this place was Shenewmody. English settlers called it New Meadows, and on October 18, 1648 the legislature declared "the village at new meadowes at Ipswich is named Toppesfeild". The town was incorporated in 1650.
One might speculate that this use of the expression by two nearby establishments (the building could have been named after the golf course) might give rise to a new application, encompassing a more particular location. Should such evolution occur, I will revise my database, but nothing collected, yet. (USGS has only the golf course under for New Meadows.)
At still another crest was New England Advertising and Printing. On my left, I passed the Old Boston Street Office Park, with Sun 'n Fun Travel among other tenants, in new brick buildings. Up ahead I could see a view of rolling hills, a geological characteristic continuing until Newburyport.
On my right I could see the golf course through some trees. On the left, I saw a house that looked as if a farm had existed here before. Then I passed Our Savior Lutheran Church, in a wooden pseudo-colonial building, but not too bad looking. Its sign indicated that I was still in Topsfield.
I covered a stretch with undeveloped land to the left and houses to the right, among which was a farm, with a barn and some shacks, that might have still been in operation. Then, at the top, I was pleased to see an Entering Ipswich sign. Oppressive heat and dehydration had been slowing me down, and the thought of that upcoming Cumberland Farms had served to keep me just highly uncomfortable, not actually in agony.
This is the Linebrook section of Ipswich. On the right I passed some auto body shops. On the left, I saw San-tron, another business advertising for help. (Once again, the Internet search engine maps have addresses along U. S. 1 in Ipswich all out of whack.) I could see still another hill ahead.
At the Mile 70 marker on the right hand side of the road, I saw a confusing pair of signs: East Street and West Street. (Arrow and Rand-McNally show East, Universal shows West here.) Part of the Willowdale State Forest, a large non-contiguous "place" that I collected on the Ipswich-Lawrence walk, lay to my east.
To the left I saw woods, containing one house with a "Sold" sign. On the right I passed cultivated fields. I saw another house on the left; on the right I noted a Horses Crossing sign, a frequent sight all along the U. S. 1 part of this walk, in fact.
Continuing through rolling hills, I walked upwards through stone that had been blasted to build the highway. I experienced the first of many bug attacks, realizing that I had not packed my spray again.
At Old Right Road, I observed an Ipswich Police car enter from my left and go north on the highway. This brought back scarcely pleasant memories.
In what I consider an excess of zeal, an Ipswich Police officer stopped me as I was walking on Linebrook Street in the walk just alluded to. I had vainly tried to find an unmarked street that, on the Arrow map, provided a shortcut to Route 133 and had gone a short way down a way admitted marked "Private" trying to figure out if this were the road that I was seeking. Seeing it was not in fact a through way, I returned after a few steps to Linebrook; but this act of "trespassing" apparently was sufficient for somebody to call the police!
There were woods to my left again. On the right I passed houses and, in a garage-like building, First Fabricators. Then both sides of the street were wooded.
I reached another relative elevation and observed the continuing pattern of rolling hills ahead. On my right, I saw the Jaquith Carbide Corporation and Micro Mech (carbon and graphite).
To the left I saw a clearing for what looked like a rather large new development, then two new colonial homes (hust about my least favorite sight, but these were good looking). Once again, I could now see another rise ahead.
Proceeding downhill, I noted a nameless street with new homes to the left. In the distance to the west, I could see still more on Plaine Road. Walking uphill again, I observed wetlands on both sides of the street.
Technical note: I call them woods or wetlands as they appear. But the difference is often arbitrary. One of the most striking lessons I have learned from my walks is that wetlands are the dominant ecology in Eastern Massachusetts. What may look to you from your car as a forest often can be perceived by a walker as actually wetland.
To my right, I saw a sign, "Industrial Lots for Sale". On the left I passed Vinal Industries, Inc., with a cutesy V-I logo. I noted Mile 71 across the road, feeling no inclination to compute my speed.
Now, from the top of a hill, I could finally see Cumberland Farms and Linebrook Road in the distance. Going down, I passed an abandoned restaurant on the left and saw the Linebrook Fire Station, remembered from my prior walk.
At the store I got a more than badly needed cream soda. I considered getting a hot dog, too, but decided that the prevalence of commercial property up ahead justified hoping for something better in the food line. I went out and finished my drink, standing in the back of the building for the little shade it afforded. Somewhat refreshed but still rather worn out, I used the phone booth at the corner to leave a message for Cathy. While doing so, I noticed that Cumberland Farms, too, was looking for help. The signs that I kept seeing on this topic along te walk did seem to bear out news reports about the decline in unemployment, though most of the advertising was for rather specialized occupations.
Heading north again, I saw Town and Country Paving and Seal Coating, an evidently home-operated business whose owner presumably has a binomial bent. I passed two small shopping plazas, Linebrook on the left and Turnpike on the right.
Then, to my left, I espied Route 1 Seafood. Though a shop, not a restaurant, it offered lobster rolls. This seemed just enough food intake. I purchased one, declining the offer of a wrapper. Returning to the highway, I made good on the prediction of the man behind the counter ("it won't last long,. huh?"). For $6.50 it might have been a little small, but it was excellent.
I had also rejected an invitation to buy a drink with my sandwich. I wanted to eat on the run, as the experience at Cumberland Farms had showed that any stop would produce a sensation of debilitation and slow me down. Since I did not want to carry two items, I assumed I would get another drink along along some of the commerical places ahead. But this turned out to be a mistake; it would be a long time before another opportunity for such refreshment came to hand.
I walked by a driving range on my left. Across the street I could see the rather "overtitled" Majestic Chinese Restaurant and Lounge. Also on the right were the United Pipe and Steel Company, the entrance to Ipswich Industrial Park, and the former Rollins furniture showroom, a building now for lease.
Passing a small home on the left, I looked down the road and thought I was experiencing the optical illusion of "water" on the highway. I half wondered if this might be a symptom of heat exhaustion, but, whatever the case, the sensation quickly left and never returned.
I traveled another stretch with woods on both sides of the road. Then, on my left, I saw a nice home for sale. On the right was Hein the Trader, a secondhand auto dealer offering the philosophical observation, "We all drive used cars."
Then on the left came D. J. Fabricators, also looking for help - a press heater and a sheet metal worker. Up ahead, the next hill was visible. Evidently this is what Rand-McNally identifies as Hunsley Hills. (USGS also has this plural name for a "summit" for which it lists quite a few variants.)
To the right I observed the entrance to Bradley Warner, selling stone, sand, gravel and loam. (Later I would see several of their trucks along U. S. 1.) This business also was offering employment - to mechanics and drivers.
Passing woods on the left, I was now entering Rowley. Cartographic sources seem to differ on locality names here. Rand-McNally would imply that I was now in Chaplinville, a term which USGS considers a variant for Kent Corner. Arrow seems to show this as part of Millwood, a place already collected on my Ipswich to Lawrence walk. (Because mapmakers do not wish to put place names on top of streets, they often have them in misleading, if not actually wrong, spots on the printed page. Millwood is not in USGS or in the Omni Gazetteer; making it difficult to decide whether I was there this time or not.)
There is another Chaplinville in Massachusetts, in Northborough. I have walked there and detected no signage supporting this name, which is in Omni but not USGS.
Woods continued to the left, and on the right I saw the entrance to the Ipswich Country Club. I had now done four hours.
A sign identified Rowley as "A Block Program Community". I passed some kind of turnoff on the left and read "Industrial and Commercial Lots for Sale". The offeror was Wellman Associates, known to me from walking as frequent despoilers of wilderness.
I saw another stone marker: "NP 8, Boston 24". On the left was Winfrey"s Fudge and Candy Shoppe. I also passed Bright Beginnings, a "school for young children".
On the right was undeveloped land. That on the left was for sale, a sign proclaiming "will build to suit". Then I saw some commercial land, including the Beech Tree Tack Shop.
At the crest of the hills I saw another home for sale. Ahead lay the next hill, and I could see more commercial establishments coming.
Proceeding downhill, I passed Adams Mall, a brick building housing four businesses. Just after this was the small office of Modular Construction. I could view Route 133 up ahead.
At Rowley Plaza, on the left, I saw a Dunkin Donuts. Another drink was definitely needed; so I went in and got a Coffee Coolata. This was my second attempt to drink this specialty beverage - and possibly my last. Not only did it not taste good, but it took a long time to be made and even longer to drink. I was now getting time conscious and, on leaving, I wished I had just taken a lemonade out of the freezer, my usual choice at Dunkin Donuts when extremely thirsty.
Heading north again, I passed wetlands on the left. On the right was a fast food establishment that I despise so much that I will not mention its name, plus a Mobil station. I used the phone at the latter to leave another message for Cathy.
Back on the left side of the street, I saw the Agawam Diner, making a mental note for use on a projected walk along 133 west from Ipswich. As I recollect, this is a very famous institution. But I had neither time nor inclination for eating. I also noted here a cigar store, one of many new such business catering to trendy idiots who think this habit does not cause cancer.
This intersection, Haverhill Street and Newburyport Turnpike (U. S. 1), would seem to me to be Kent Corner itself, so to speak, however wide a scope this appellation covers. I was now ascending, as I interpret Rand-McNally, the west side of Smith Hill. (USGS has this as one of four such named summits in Massachusetts.)
To the left, I passed the Rowley Mall. On the other side of the street I saw Paul Getchell Used Cars. I could see a rise in the road ahead. The sky had become somewhat overcast, but that brought little decrease in my discomfort.
On both sides there were short stretches of wetlands, then commercial properties appeared. To the right, I saw Spud's Restaurant and Pub, with a (to me, uninviting) sign "This Spud's for You". (There seems to be a chain of these, but I have never seen one before.)
On the left I passed a mini-mall with five businesses in it. Then came another section with wetlands on both sides. I was now ascending a series of smaller, rolling hills.
I observed Crystal Engineering Company to the right. One the left I saw Yankee Lumber and the Yankee Village Mall (the second with this name, if my notes are correct), containing Cathy's Country Kitchen, a breakfast-lunch place. Another "Land Available" sign appeared on the right.
More rolling hills lay ahead, and I fended off another bug attack. Toward the top of this hill, from which there was a nice view, I experienced a brief breeze. On the left I saw a kind of trail to property that was being developed, with sand piles, orange flags and all. This place afforded me the opportunity for a comfort stop.
After another stretch of woods and wetlands, I reached one more hillcrest, at which was M & J Foreign Cars. On the left was more land for sale, twenty-one acres zoned for commercial and "perked".
I walked along a level stretch and then uphill. To the right I saw Mario's Lounge, exhorting potential patrons to "Dance to the Oldies" and "Dance to Country". As if that were not off-putting enough, another ad noted "Karaoke Tuesdays".
There were now houses left and right. Then some more commercial establishments appeared on my right: R & D Engineering and G & G Machinery Company.
Then, on my left, I came upon the "outdoor studio" (one might say) of Chain Saw Artist Ken Dudley, with sculptures (if that is right word) of a moose, a totem pole and so on. And who should I see, and even exchange hellos with, but Mr. Dudley himself, hard at work on some work whose nature I could not determine! This discovery of a (to me) whole new form of art might be considered the aesthetic highlight of the walk; but, as will be seen, I prefer to give this award to a sight of natural beauty.
I noted the Mile 74 marker as I passed through an area of wetlands. On my left, I saw some blue flags around some trees, wondering what that meant. After another bug attack, I reached another hilltop, at Wetherfield Road. This is Dodge Corner according to Rand-McNally and Doles Corner according to Arrow. USGS and Omni give Doles Corner as the preferred name, recognizing Dodge Corner as a variant for this "populated place". (USGS also has a Dodge Corner in Hawley.)
I could see more rolling hills ahead. On the left I passed an out of business collectibles store in what looked like some kind of former farm structure. As I continued, it seemed apparent that this had once been farm and/or orchard land.
I went by more undeveloped land on the left, with the right a mixture of residential and commercial properties. I noted the Simard Family Restaurant, a/k/a Simard's Sub Shop. Then came Seafood Village, "eat in or take out", which, as if casting its net to non-fish-fanciers, also offered roast beef and ice cream. (From the Internet, I found out that this is an offshoot of Simard's, which also exists in Danvers, not far from the start of this walk.)
On the left I saw what was once the Hawg's Breath Saloon, proving that a vulgar name may not be a draw in these parts, with a "Sold" sign on the building. On the right I observed the Rowley Garden Center, which looked as if it might no longer be in business itself. Then came the P. J. de Ronde Granite Company, with piles of what I can only describe as stone objects.
I passed undeveloped land on the left; on the right were fields, two of them cultivated. Then I saw a strange hemispherical building, which had once housed still another extinct business. On a faded sign could still be read "Consignment Cottage".
Next on the left came the Viera Auction Gallery. From the rather run-down appearance of the building, I thought maybe another enterprise had bit the dust. Seeing some fliers posted on its windows, however, I went over for a look, at the risk of losing time (which was beginning to be a consideration, my optimism on this score having quite vanished). It turned out that there was to be an auction there on July 5 of some homes and their contents. Feeling sorry for what I presumed to be the unfortunate bankrupts whose possessions were to go under the hammer, I returned to the road.
I followed more rolling hills all the way to the next intersection, at which Glen Street runs west and Central Street east. On the left were wetlands, with Batchelder Brook (as yet unnoticed, however). The view was the most scenic yet, but I supposed (correctly) that it would be surpassed by that at Parker River.
I passed Action Paving, a home-based business. I could now see the brook on the left. I obsrved a a house, with a satellite dish, along the riverbank. (This Route 1 excursion was unusual in that residential sights were less frequent than natural and commercial ones.)
I walked to the top of another hill, passing undeveloped land on both sides. There I saw the East-West Acupuncture Clinic.
I saw another old stone marker, now illegible, whose Boston and Newburyport distances no doubt once had guided travelers before there was a U.S. 1. On the right, I noted a large rock. Up ahead I could see the next hill and a crossroads.
This area is Glen Mills, and, as I crossed the intersection, I wondered if I was going to see any manufactory indications. Then, at Mill Street, I saw indeed Jewell Mill, founded 1692, the first fulling mill in the English colonies, as I learned from a sign that also told me that I was in the Glen Mills Historic District. From the historical standpoint, this quaint sight was to be the most notable feature of the walk.
I had now exceeded five hours. On the right I noted a field with a sign "Wilderness Management Area". On the left, I passed some houses, one of them for sale. At the top of this hill, fighting off bugs again, I saw more of the wilderness area to the right. On the left, I could see the brook.
Now I was entering Newbury. At Elm Street, I saw a sign for Governor Dummer Academy, the oldest boarding school in America, dating to 1763. The Rand-McNally and Universal maps show the school property on both sides of U.S. 1, but from my observation I think Arrow is correct in locating this on the west side only - though of course some people might feel this distinction is purely academic.
On the right, I saw a golf course. At first I supposed that Governor Drummer might be ritzy enough to have such a facility, but later I saw a sign indicating that this was the Ould Newbury Country Club. Despite the aristocratic name, it is open to the public Monday to Friday. I could see some golfers out on the links; but, instead of feeling empathy with other people exercising in the heat, I somewhat contempuously rembered the words of Manny Dikibo, "Why walk after a ball when you can just walk?"
Like Rowley, Newbury is for the most part a pretty town. Route 1 would appear to be one of its relatively commercial sections.
This area is South Byfield. Elm Street takes one west to Byfield Parish, an Arrow locality that I have never been to and cannot find in other sources. Nor have I yet been to Byfield itself, a locality to the west that, for one which is not a municipality, has a good deal of map prominence. It has a web site and a Yahoo page. For some reason, the latter does not capture the former.
On the left I saw wetlands. On the right was a vista of marshes, the most scenic sight on this walk thus far. At a turnoff on the right, I saw a Newbury police car evidently waiting for speeders. Later along the highway, I would see a vehicle stopped by this officer. (Massachusetts Speedtraps reports that the Newbury police "usually have nothing better to do than hide on RT.1 just before the Newburyport rotary".)
Passing fields on the left, I noted mile marker 76 on the right. My course had now become level, and I was somewhat refreshed by a cool breeze.
I saw cultivated fields on the right. My ignorance of agricultural matters is great, but I thought that hay might be being raised.
After this, I saw on the right the Morland Farm Market. This offered vegetables, salt, hay, antiques, corn, flowers, and "home grown lettuce and spinach". That last phrase made me wonder about the working status of the farm and whether the "hay" was in fact what I had just seen.
Now, passing more marshes, with a view of more rolling hills ahead, I came to the Parker River. When I walked from Ipswich to Newburyport along Route 1A, I found crossing this to be a scenic highlight, and the same was true again. On both sides were panoramas of beautiful scenery, at least as much of it as we can get in eastern Massachusetts.
To my mind, a few human-made objects (such as a boat on the left) somewhat marred the view, but only slightly (and perhaps a little idiosyncratically, though my relish for scenery that is wholly natural surely can be defended). Walking along, I pondered the question of natural versus artificial aesthetic, remembering the great passage on that subject at the beginning of Keats' Endymion.
Then what did I see at my feet but the empty covers of two pornographic videos! Now, I have nothing against pornography, but such litter was so contrasting to my thoughts that it made me ashamed of the human race.
And, as if that were not enough to make one sign up for the Voluntary Human Extinction Movement, what followed this but a series of commercial signs! I suppose these were for Morland Farm, inasmuch as, though no institutional name was cited, they announced the upcoming availability of strawberries and other produce.
I strongly support Massachusetts agriculture and wish every farm in my state to survive. But, Morland, how could you put advertisements on the banks of this beautiful river? How, indeed, can this be allowed? Surely these signs would be just as effective, and immeasurably less offensive, if located further down the highway, where they would not mar the riparian spectacle? Doesn't anybody appreciate such things?
Turning my eyes in reaction to the right, I saw something so foreign to my experience - and understanding - that I was almost tempted to walk out into the marshes and look at it first hand to see what it was. There seemed to be piles - of what? Further inspection, as I walked, seemed to show plowed furrows, making me speculate that these were hayricks. The idea of farming in this morass seemed odd to me, but I could think of no better explanation, though I appeal to any less ignorant reader to inform me on this point!
As happens when faced with such observations, I cursed my educational system for its apparent neglect of botany. I can surely tell a dog from a cat, or a even a hippopotamus from a rhinoceros, so why can't I tell an oak from a maple, or hay from alfalfa? As it is, I would probably not even know that hayricks exist if I had not reach George Meredith‘s (greatly underrated) novel The Ordeal of Richard Feverel.
Turning to geographic matters, it would appear that on my right was Kents Island. (By the way, if you are not into this stuff, you should know that cartographers frown on apostrophes in place names.) I have listed it as a new locality, but I may be violating my rules here: Seeing a place does not serve to collect it, I actually have to be there. Since I kept to the left of the road, I did not actually walk in it if the island really ends at U. S. 1. But, inasmuch as the island, and the locality name, must have existed before the turnpike, perhaps I wasn't cheating.
Leaving the river behind me, I went up another hill. At the top, I saw houses on the left; to the right was land behind a stone wall that had a wooden fence on top of it.
Now I walked up another gradually inclined passage. I saw a stone post "NB3". Even considering that the bus station is rather far from downtown (to which this distance must be calculated), it seemed that I was making good time after all, though somehow I still felt some doubts about that. On the right, I saw Mile marker 77 and a beautiful vista.
Continuing, I saw on my left a chipmunk
scurrying into the wetlands. Then I saw a cross erected in memory
of Joe Liguori, a victim of drunken driving.
At Cedar Hill Street, which was not on my map, new construction was visible down this road, to the west. On the left now came a marsh, then a field, with more wetlands on the right.
Now I could see houses to the west on Middle Street. I also saw a house on the left, with a nice lawn and hedges. To the right I saw a field, perhaps still in use but possibly reverting to marshland.
Travelling on a level path, I could see another hill ahead and the intersection with Boston Road. I saw some more homes on the left. Then I passed wetlands on both sides, experiencing another insect attack. I saw some cars passing with headlights on, but not appearing to be a funeral procession.
At 140, I noticed a large home on filled in land. Mile marker 78 appeared. Then, on the left, I saw a sign reading "End of Measured Mile". Thinking that these don't seem as common as years ago, I saw that the sign had been dated "6-65". Have they stopped measuring miles (an endeavor that really doesn't seem too interesting) or what?
At another (relative) hilltop, I saw a home on the left that sold pet houses. I could see another rise ahead, with the road curving left.
On the right I passed commercial property, and then some more appeared on the left. I saw AEL Truck Rentals, with a lot on which were parked many trailers. On the right was a short stretch of wetlands.
Reaching a crest again, I could see the highway rising ahead, with commercial edifices lining it. I passed some auto and other businesses on the left, with the right side still undeveloped land. A cyclist rode by.
On the left, I saw Admiral Used Cars and Wilco Marine (boat reconditioners). The heat and humidity were really getting to me now. I wondered, "What are the symptoms of heat stroke?"
At the next crest, I could see what looked like a bridge ahead. The map, I saw, did indicate a railroad bridge in that place. On the left, was a small rock face. To the right, I saw the New England Center for Holistic Medicine.
On the left, seeing a small strip mall, I seized the badly needed opportunity for a drink, buying a cherry Coke and exchanging remarks with the store clerk about the heat. I stood in front of the building, realizing that I had now gone six and a quarter hours and trying to determine if it was still feasible to get the 3:30 bus. I decided that it could be done, but I would have to pick up my pace. To do so would be difficult. (I thought of how I had countermanded the advice to "Walk slowly" in New Bedford earlier that month). But I decided to give it a try.
I went back into the store to deposit the bottle in a barrel and then returned to the highway. As I did so, I felt a cool breeze and took it as a favorable omen.
I returned to the road, crossing the intersection, with Middle Street on the left and Hanover Street on the right. I passed more commercial property, with Newbury Animal Hospital on the east and an auto salvage concern (with a lot full of trailers) on the west.
On the right I could see billboards, and this form of advertising was to continue into Newburyport. Route 1 took a detour to the right, over a river (unnamed on my maps). On the left was a huge construction area with an overpass; to the left I could see - what, were they rebuilding and relocating the highway?
Or, considering the railroad track on the map (though not evident to my sight), was this the MBTA expansion from Ipswich to Newburyport? Though admittedly this was not a region likely to be frequented by sidewalk superintendents, I wished some explanation had been posted.
And it was! I continued around a curve, with oil trucks from Checkaway Oil in Newburyport on the right, as well as the Mile 79 marker. Then I saw a "T Improvements" sign, indicating that this was indeed a future part of the purple line.
Ahead was a rotary. Just before this, I passed an "Entering Newburyport" sign. The real estate was all commercial here. I saw Diamond Martine and Highland Auto. On the right was a vacated building, with a notice that Circle Finishing had moved to the Newburyport Industrial Park.
I went left around the rotary, which contained many eateries and other businesses. I passed on the left a business which selling bird watching supplies and gifts, the first such establishment that I have come across.
To the west and south, I saw a dark sky. The weather forecast had indeed indicated a chance of a shower in the late afternoon. But there was nothing I could do about that, except to keep hurrying along. (Some times I pack a fold-up umbrella, but this was not one of them.)
I enjoyed the use of a sidewalk now, as I bore left with U.S. 1, which is a divided highway along this section but quite walkable. On my left, I could see the Industrial Park (the name for this varies on the maps). To the right was the Newburyport District Court building; then I saw a building flying flag with a moose on it, so I presumed it was a Moose clubhouse. (A search of Yahoo shows that this surmise was correct, but their map shows it in the wrong place.)
On the left I passed a DAV lodge, in a rather decaying building that being offered for sale. Then came Wesley's Restaurant and Ice Cream, tempting - but there was no time. I was hurrying now, going by still another '"first" in my experience - a staircase factory (with the simple, but dull name Staircases, Inc.).
On a hill to the right I could see the Highland Cemetery. On the left was a "commercial vista", with oil tanks, boats and other enterprises. The sky in that direction now looked very menacing.
I passed a house on the left and then some vacant land. Then, at Low Street, I came to a mixed commercial and residential area. Now I had a decision to make.
The original game plan had called for me to continue with U.S. 1 to the bridge to Salisbury. This was to make a connection to a future walk, to begin in Haverhill, take in three new muncipalities (Merrimac, Amesbury, and Salisbury), and end in Newburyport, following U.S. 1 south from Salisbury.
With so little time left, I had tentatively decided instead to take Low Street directly to the bus station, which is located at the junction of Routes 113 and I-95. (There seems to be a trend for bus terminals no longer to be in the center of town, but rather near the local interstate highway. Plymouth is another example.)
No doubt this would have been prudent, but I followed my policy that, if it is possible that a time can be met, I should adhere to the plan. With only forty-five minutes left, this diversion was a serious risk, but I decided to try it. So I kept going and tried to maintain a rapid pace.
I saw the L. P. Jones Company on the left, and then came to an intersection. To the right was a small cemetery, whose flag-strewn graves suggested that it was a military one. Up ahead I could see a bridge, which must be Route 113 (High Street).
On the left I passed Enpro Services, wondering what precisely their "environmental" work encompasses. On the right I noticed one more unusual business: A. J. Corey Supply Company, specializing in faucet repair, in an old building that looked as if it had once been a barn.
Now I saw that U. S. 1 went down an underpass, with several bridges coming. This could reasonably have been considered an unwalkable segment, as there was understandably no more sidewalk. But, since there was also no sign actually prohibiting pedestrians, I kept on. I realized that I was defying common sense, but I wanted to continue to the bridge; to go straight on was the quickest course, time for examining more other options not being available.
After going under overhead passageways, I could see the bridge across the Merrimac River and was relieved to see that it had sidewalks. Leaving the problem of connecting my paths so that I will have covered all of U. S. 1 to that future walk (slated for this November), I scrambled off the highway to Winter Street and then back to High Street.
I passed Joseph's Winter Street Café and almost tripped over a barrel on the sidewalk. As I remembered from my previous walk there, Newburyport has some distinctive, very fine old architecture; and I was already beginning to enjoy it, to the degree that my rushing permitted. Down Atkinson Street to my right, I noticed a Railroad Crossing sign, though no railroad tracks. I wondered where the MBTA intends to put the Newburyport station.
As I reached 133, I felt some drops of water; but this was as far as any impending storm turned out to get. Now I thought that it might be prudent not to return to Low Street but rather just to take High Street to the bus terminal. It would probably be quicker and, though it would be a long repeat (which I always hate), the fact that it was a known course would possibly be an advantage.
This seemed to be the sensible alternative. But of course, if I were sensible I would not be doing these walks anyway, one could say! So I stuck the original plan, going as fast as I could, with only about forty minutes to bus time.
Heading west on High Street, with a pharmacy on my left, I saw the Old Fellows House across the street in a nice old building. In fact, all the buildings along for the next few blocks here are fine old residences, dating to the preceding century, with some maintaining that status and others now put to commercial uses.
I hastened over a stone "railroad" bridge, observing that the track is only a trail here. In fact, I had intended to follow the course of the old railroad from Ipswich to Newburyport, which I believe at least for the most part has been a bike path, but I guess the MBTA has forestalled that projected walk.
Among the beautiful residences here, I noted the 1806 Otis and the 1806 Hoyt-Williams houses. For a while I was on a brick sidewalk. Then, per plan, I turned left on Johnson Street to get to Low, with the brick surface continuing down this road for a block.
This is a residential street, with older homes toward High and newer ones as one gets to the other end. I raced along. As I reached Low Street, I could see ahead and to my left how close to this point I had been before and how my diversion had greatly risked missing the 3:30 bus. Indeed, the odds clearly seemed to be against that time now, for there was now only half an hour left.
At the corner, I re-tied my shoelaces, put away my map and notebook, and braced myself as best I could to walk at top speed. Some people might very reasonably have concluded in this situation to take it easy and resign themselves to a later bus. But I adhered to my philosophy of trying to do what might be done; perhaps I just like these challenge runs.
Across the street was the Armory. On the right I passed the Nock School (which seemingly contains the administrative offices of the Newburyport school system). Then the street became predominantly residential. On my left, I had a view of marshland behind the homes. One new home had a field with a tractor on it, and later I saw two plowed fields. On the left I passed the Port Rehabilitation and Nursing Center, and further on I saw the Country Manor rehabilitation center on the right.
Time was running out, and prospects did not seem good. I followed the somewhat curving course of the road, having little idea of where I was and how my time stood. At Crow Street, I risked losing time by pulling out the map. I still was only half way, and there was less than fifteen minutes.
I tried to go even faster, or at least not lessen the pace, even though I was truly exhausting myself. As I passed a Murphy Avenue on the right, the name seemed to mock me!
Suddenly commercial property appeared ahead, and I hoped this would (as it did) prove to be the shopping area along Route 113. I passed by a plaza on the right and some small malls on the left and then rejoiced at the sight of a "Junction 113" sign.
As I came to the highway, I had another problem: would I know which way to go, left or right? But the sight of a Dunkin Donuts and a Friendly's to the right, which I remembered from my previous walk (I had eaten at the latter), confirmed my impression that I should go left. The bus stop was only minutes away. So I headed that way, passing a gas station on my left.
I
could see the lot containing the bus station now. But, with less
than five minutes left, what should I then see ahead but the C & J
Trailways bus coming in from I-95! For a fleeting moment, I indulged
in what I suppose is a common psychological denial mechanism, hoping that
it was a northbound bus. On detecting the Boston marking, however,
I began to run, hoping that I would be seen by the bus driver, who, I supposed,
would not leave me in the lurch.
From experience, I knew that the bus has to go all the way to the end of the lot and then circle back to the station. (On my first walk here this was only a trailer, but since then - as I discovered on a walk beginning here and taking in West Newbury on the way to Lawrence - C & J Trailways erected a real building, very small, but with rest rooms even.) And so it proved that I was able to run into the station, buy a ticket, and get back out to the platform just before the bus pulled in.
"You could have gotten the heat stroke out there", observed the driver as I got on. I meekly explained that I had been rushing because I did not want to wait for the next bus.
The whole reasoning behind this all too common ending dash was somewhat undermined when I picked up a new schedule while getting on board and saw a change: The next bus was 4:15, not 4:45! Still, since I had gotten away with it, I did not regret the effort.
The bus was relatively full, all but a few passengers being destined for Logan Airport, which it, logically enough but inconveniently for me, goes to before South Station. Being the last of three passengers to embark, I was not able to get my own seat; and I feel sorry for the poor woman whom I sat next to, as the air conditioning almost immediately reduced me to a mound of sweat. (As luck would have it, she got out at the very last terminal on the airport route!)
From the physical perspective, this was one of my worst walks ever. The heat and the humidity made the going downright brutal. As regards scenery and other interest, however, it rates quite high. In retrospect, the Danvers and Newburyport stretches were unnecessary additions to the Route 1 main event, and perhaps I should be more willing to use cabs. (I might have actually done so in Newburyport, once I reached High Street, since I had by then already put in the regulation seven hours. But I had failed to take the precaution to write down taxi phone numbers, one I generally take when difficulties at the end point are foreseeable.)
The main accomplishment was of course the extension of my northward passage along U. S. 1. It will be at least a year before this course leads me to New Hampshire. I have once visited its northern terminus, in Fort Kent, Maine.
Name: U. S. 1: Danvers to Newburyport
Path: Danvers - Newburyport
Date: June 25, 1997
Time: 7.5 hours
Weather: Alternatively overcast and sunny; humid; temperatures in uppers 80's; some cool breezes, but overall difficult to brutal; in last hours, a few drops and threat of thunderstorm but no rain
Roadkill: squirrel (Rowley)
Municipalities: Danvers, Topsfield, Ipswich, Rowley, Newbury, Newburyport
Localities: Danvers (Square), Salem Village, Danvers Center, Hathorn, Nichols Brook, Rea Farm (Hill), Witch Hill, Ipswich River, Town(e) Hill, Great Hill, Mile Brook, Howlett Brook, Linebrook, Hunsley Hills, Chaplinville [Rowley], Kent Corner, Smith Hill, Dodge Corner (Dole Corner), Glen Mills, Batchelder Brook, Glen Mills Historic District, South Byfield, Parker River, Kents Island
Highlight: Parker River
Lowlight: Racing for bus in last half hour
Notable sights: Chainsaw artist Ken Dudley; Jewell Mill
New walks: N from Danvers
SW
from Danvers
NE
from Danvers
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(c) James Murphy, 1997
Last updated October 15, 1997
