I like the meditation of road riding, but a lot of the time our weekend rides (dates?) end up being mixed surface adventures. We were short on time today so rolled out on what we intended to be a short road ride and turned into a bit more adventure than we expected.
We loaded up bikes onto the car and headed out to Echo Hill Orchards so we could end our ride with some food and wine. Once we arrived, we started off with a fast descent down into Monson center. Even though we had only been going for a few minutes, we made a stop at a spring so Morgan could toss and replace the water she brought. Natural springs are just fun.
Driving through Monson doesn’t do it justice – the small downtown is actually quite lively, and while it might not justify a dedicated trip, it’s a nice place to make a stop. Unfortunately we were only a couple miles into our day and couldn’t justify a café stop, but enjoyed some public art and moved on to our long climb of the day.
On the climb, Morgan and I were talking about how it’s unfortunate that in New England, almost all excellent cycling is locked behind having enough fitness to survive very steep climbs. Any road that is flat enough to be approachable for a novice is loaded up with cars moving faster than is comfortable. Not enough people ride bikes because it’s hard to be a beginner, and then nobody cares about infrastructure because there aren’t enough cyclists to justify the expense.
After getting to the top of the climb, we turned onto a narrow road that took us past a small commercial campground and into Brimfield State Forest. We took a break to check out the Dean Pond Recreation Area, which definitely deserves another visit.
We continued through the state forest on a road only a lane and a half wide, descending down a shallow grade at a super fun pace. Everything around us was beautiful. This part of our ride had a few perfect moments where I caught myself smiling just because I was having so much fun.
After a bit more uphill, we came to the Monson State Hospital, a place Morgan and I both have heard of but had never been past. We were shocked at how big it was, with dozens of buildings spread across at least a few dozen acres of land.
The facility closed down years ago after a colorful history of abuse to its psychiatric patients with a side of eugenics, among other things. The state tried a few years back to find someone to purchase the massive property, but unsurprisingly nobody bit. It sits now as a million dollar annual tax burden for security costs to keep kids out of the dangerous buildings.
We didn’t get close to any of the buildings, but within minutes we saw a security car off in the distance so we quietly continued on our way. At this point we were way behind on time and could’ve either cut back towards Monson center or kept on our intended route, and our legs felt good enough to keep going.
After a final long and steep climb, we enjoyed killer views on a winding descent. Still in a fairly remote area, we rode past a farmer locking up his gate. Out in the field there was a nativity scene set up, but in place of a cardboard cut out donkey there was a real one. I asked the exceptionally old farmer if I could go into the field to take a picture, and he told us absolutely.
His wife came out and told us they’ve had donkeys on the property for 40 years, but her husband was born in the house and has been here his whole life. What a wonderful existence – a bit remote for my liking, but so peaceful. She also told us that the donkey that likes people the most is named Pickles.
As soon as Morgan walked up to Pickles, he nestled right up to her like a dog. He was incredibly sweet, and all of them had such personality. We stayed a bit longer than we should’ve, and if we weren’t running low on daylight we probably would’ve hung around longer.
The final few miles was harder than we wanted it to be, with a fair amount of climbing in our legs. We got back to the car far behind schedule and ended up skipping the wine to make it back home. We weren’t disappointed, and both felt very lucky to spend a great day outside experiencing the unexpected small joys that life brings.