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Perhaps when you think of the Berkshires, you think of Tanglewood or Jacob's Pillow. But, just maybe you came with the kids to get away from it all. Just maybe, you wanted to be alone with the fam, not surrounded by thousands of artistic junkies. Then Tolland is the place for you.
While the motor boats on Otis Reservoir were a bit disconcerting while tromping in nature, this was a beautiful body of water. We opted for the "Healthy Heart" Gillmore Trail. Not simply because we just can't get enough of that wacky mother and daughter team. More, because I really was hoping that if we didn't go too far, Liji could make the entire trek on his own two feet (re: the end of the daddy backpack please!).
Well, we started to climb and ole Liji's legs gave out, but he opted for grandpa's shoulders (phew). Grandpa regaled us with that time that he and I summited like 70 peaks in three days, including Mt. Washington when I was just a few months older than Sydney is now. (It was like 20 below one night at Lake of the Clouds people, and the dog almost froze!) Ironically we had just been there, so I reminded Sydney what a crazy idea this was for a five year old. Anyway, we had a lovely tromp, caught up on some more salamanders, checked out the woodpecker holes and made it safely back in time for lunch. The perfect hike.
We are Department of Conservation and Resources (DCR) junkies. I hate to admit it, but they put together a good party. At our home base on Lake Cochituate they remove trees from your dock if a winter storm wanders by. They maintain pristine beaches and beautiful lakes with flair. They provide clear and accessible maps online and at each site. I have visited a lot of state parks in my day, and I must say DCR rocks!
We set-up camp in the Berkshires this summer in Granville with dad and his longtime companion Allison. This town is a small, former farming community near the Connecticut border, and our stay in Wildwood has been dreamy. Swimming all day, fishing early and often and paddling our hearts out. We went for a little change of pace this morning by starting with a hike, and the boys couldn’t have been more thrilled.
Every twist and turn of these well-maintained trails was littered with red spotted salamanders (they are both scientists, so we learned that this was like the tadpole stage of newts). Last night, we were lucky to skip another night in the tent because it was two inches deep in water when we awoke. But what a bonanza for the wildlife! These salamanders crossed us at every turn. Little peeper frogs hopped across the trail in droves. There were so many types of fungus, my dad (or Mr. Wizard as they used to call him) couldn’t even keep up with all of Sydney’s questions. So when you are done riding horses at Undermountain Farms, or splashing at Play Bosquet come on out to Granville for a taste of the wild.
As a relative novice to the Berkshire scene, it appeared that no trip out here was complete without a trip to Tanglewood. On our first visit this summer, we had plans to see our Cousin Philip play there with his colleagues in the Emerson String Quartet, but alas work called us back to Boston. We had tried to get James Taylor/Carol King tickets, but please people, there was no way.
So this trip out we hit the nail on the head with an ole standby, the BSO. Tanglewood has been the summer residence of the Boston Symphony Orchestra since 1937, and it is clear why. This place is magical for adults and kids alike. My dad and his girlfriend set-up camp on the lawn ahead of schedule for us with the requisite blanket, rented chairs, wine glasses and crackers. Before the first tuning, the boys were full of snacks.
Sydney lasted through the entire performance of Beethoven's Violin Concerto in D which I fondly recalled from my long-night study sessions in college. He and I silently worked our way through Uno and Go Fish while he enjoyed the music. By intermission, we were ready to join Liji and Kam on the overlook at the Kid’s Corner. That’s right people, Tanglewood leaves open a huge space overlooking the lakes and mountains for kids to run, parents to listen and provides free snacks and arts and crafts. Did I mention the kids got in free? This was our first real outdoor concert with the boys, and we couldn’t have asked for better.
After a lifetime of staying out of the Berkshires, we are back for pass two of three in less than six months. Needless to say, last time was in a foot of snow and a day of crazy downhill at Butternut. This time it was 90 degrees and we needed to cool down after a morning of horseback at Undermountain Farm. Yesterday we hit the lake, today we had our sights on the water slides. Bousquet is a local fav amongst the ski set. While Butternut was either too flat or steep, Bousquet seems to have made out better in the glacial age. This winter we will try out their 22 lovely trails. For now, we worked the mini-golf. Oddly enough, Sydney seems to like golf. Meemaw got him a set of "clubs" and he hacks away at home. After hacking away off the greens at Bousquet, we got bored at hole 15.
I can't believe he waited this long for the slides. The big kid/adult slides were tempting. I almost took a Dadbreak. Instead we watched in glee as Sydney shooshed down the kiddie slides. It brought me back to my summers in Jersey at Action Park or down on the coast at Wildwood (thankfully pre-"Situation", but still Jersey Shore baby). So I was delighted to see that the parking lot was full of Jersey plates. You can take the kids out of Jersey, but you can't take the Jersey out of your kids.
I like to think of myself as a bit of a risk taker. I pride myself on the fact that my boys are willing to try anything. I also love horses. Like with most large animals, some urge comes over me to scratch their ears, pat them, smile at them. But, my last real experience riding was not a good one. With little training I was at a cantor with a friend ahead of me who trained horses. We started to race up a hill at camp and my horse shot ahead of hers. As she tried to catch me to settle my horse, her ride threw her head first at a tree. An hour later an ambulance made it to the rural spot in Maine with her eyes closed and slow breathing. Thankfully a neck brace for her, but not a lot of riding for me after that. So, the boys seem to share my love of large farm animals. We hit the pony rides at Belkin and Davis, but that was just a tease. Today, we met the coolest horse trainer I've ever seen. She managed our party of five and two others, while calming gearing up the horses, directing her staff and generally holding court with kids ages two to fifteen. "If he's over six months old and can sit up on his own, he can ride." So as our two closest girlfriends (or 3rd grade super heros as the boys like to see them) led the horses, the boys took the mounts. For thirty minutes they replayed every fantasy I had since watching Black Stallion in the seventies and reading the entire series (I know, I know, I was the only boy doing this, but at least the main character was a boy too). This place is more than just rides though. It is set over Tanglewood admist the mountains and trees. It was a perfectly clear day with a bit of heat, and they were full up. Some kids were getting ready for jumps, others like ours were on their first real outing. They run everything from trail rides to day camps. They have it all. But in the end, the have one most important factor to my boys; a love of animals.
I have to admit, when I was growing up if someone mentioned the Berkshires I thought; how lame. Little pimples of mountains, terrible snow conditions and just a few bodies of water to paddle. Heading up the highway in College to face off against the Purple Cows of Williams certainly wasn't much of an enticement. Who has a purple cow for a mascot? But, a pre-baby weekend to Lenox with the wifey changed my tune. The Norman Rockwell Museum was pretty cool. (We love his covers for Cobblestone, still a great magazine for kids). The Book Loft in Great Barrington was just our speed, used and old. Maybe a couple of hours down the pike was worth it?
Our closest family friends have just bought a place in West Stockbridge. What a super cute little town! Twenty minutes down route 41 from the restaurants and shops of G.B., and just a hop, skip and a jump to the highest concentration of cultural institutions anywhere outside NYC; see Tanglewood, Jacob's Pillow and MassMOCA. But we came for the snow. We hit Butternut on Saturday. Sure the bunny hill was a little bunny. The greens a little steep. We still had a blast. I managed to ski Sydney and his pal on my polls down a blue, solo.
It was the house and the hood that were the hit though. It just kept snowing, hour after hour. From the blizzard like drive out on Friday night to the flurries on home. Saturday was snowman day. Miami Kami (see wifey, aka Live from the Fence) even got into the snowtacular with some really cute snow bunnies. But the icing on the cake, (pun intendended) was the snow battle of the century on Sunday. It was bloodline vs. bloodline as the fort walls piled high. The snowballs flew, as we worked ourselves into a sweat in 30 degree freeze, soaking in the snow. We had such a blast, we might even forgo the Cape this summer for a little culture of our own.
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