After a confrontation at the Amesbury Mcdonalds, Me and Jack hit the road with the same enthusiasm as our manifest destiny forefathers. Our goal was to head west. With full stomachs and a full tank of gas we set sail.
I had heard of a town called Florida that was located in the northern part of the berkshires. (top left corner of the state) that would be our first destination.
“we gotta show them that western mass really exists” said triton senior Jack Atkinson “we’re like Lewis and Clark”
I got off of work at 5 and picked up Jack at around 5:30. We first stopped at McDonalds. A group of three boys who looked to all be about fourteen were waiting at the drive through menu on bicycles. “Hey man, could you get me a mcdouble?” The most vocal boy asked, I declined but he seemed unhappy with this “Yeah at least i’m not in a sh*tbox! Broke*ss!”. I found this response particularly hilarious considering that A: he was riding a bicycle, and B: he was asking me to buy him a mcdouble. I I exchanged a few choice words with this young man, mostly pointing out his hypocrisy in hopes that it would teach this kid to not pick fights with the wrong strangers.
With this comic relief and bellies full of quarter pounder meat, we set sail. At around 6:00 We got onto I-495 first to reach US Route 2. This would be the only highway change for the next 12 hours.
We hit route 2, and both noticed the geography change by the time we hit the Leominster/Fitchburg area (6:30-7:00). There were more oak trees and the vegetation was more dense with less variety. We noticed a difference from the more coastal geography we were used to back in the north shore. It was almost jungle like or a more continental/temperate version of a rainforest. The highway was very windy as well. there would be little change for the next 45 minutes.
At 7:30 we hit Philipston. Our time between Philipston and Fitchburg we noticed less and less development. But here marked the “end” of what felt like back home. There was a sign stating “Keep headlights on at all times” before the highway turned into a single lane with a divider in the middle. It almost felt like we were driving on one big exit ramp. The area around the highway became dense forest and lightning struck from the sky, the rain poured down on us like a monsoon “This is where we die” said Jack. We noticed what we both agreed was one of the most “Majestic” market baskets we’ve ever seen on the right side of the highway, through a canopy of tall oak trees on the other side of a pond known as “Reservoir Number One” in Athol.
At around 8:00 we were shot out at the end of the cool “tree-tunnel” highway in the quaint town of Orange. It was dark at this point and the highway had turned into a normal two lane highway (theres alot of highway) at this point we kept saying to ourselves that we couldn’t believe we were still in massachusetts. The environment was comparable to Vermont but flatter and with a little more people. And with lots of Oak trees as opposed to pine trees.
We crossed over the Connecticut River on the French King Bridge. This is the river that divides New Hampshire and Vermont, and what we considered splitted the state between east and west. Crossing the Connecticut River is one of my favorite parts of road tripping up to Vermont, it was even cooler crossing it again in Massachusetts.
We pulled in the small town of Gill to fill up on gas and get some water. As I stepped out of the car I noticed it was more Humid and less windy than back home. The air was clean and the atmosphere was calm. It smelt like rain and forest. It was around 9:00 at this point and the sun had set. I made contact with a connection that I had out here, Triton Alumni Noah Alcaraz who had so happened to be staying another night at his dorm at Umass Amherst. Since nearly everyone on his floor had moved out (Including his roommate) we had a place to sleep.
From Gill to Florida it had felt like we were in a new and unknown state of the USA. It was unique from Vermont, New Hampshire, Maine, Connecticut, Eastern Massachusetts, and Rhode Island. It was rural but in its more pure form. Not as many people had camps out here, or came out on weekends like they did at lake Winnipesaukee or Sebago. If I had a choice I would name this place “New Berkshire” or something along those lines. It had little resemblance to the culture back home.
The closer we got to Florida the more we noticed the mountains. It truly felt like we were in a completely different part of the country. We turned down the Grateful Dead that had been playing for the last 2 hours and looked at the mountain range through the clearing on the side of the highway, the last bits of dusk disappearing into the night. We were truly far, but we were not tired. Route 2 took us up a windy mountain where we saw our mecca. The Florida town sign at the end of a bridge over the Deerfield River in between two mountains. The air felt magical and the river was rushing below us. It felt like we were at the foot of a god at that moment. We were so close to these almost cliff-like mountainsides. It just didn’t feel like the Massachusetts we knew back home.
After checking our GPS we noticed that we were not one bit far from New York state. We continued on Route two and through the “Hairpin Turn” where we noticed a city skyline. It was the city of North Adams which I would compare to Newburyport or Haverhill. There was no light around this one small Mill city in the middle of nowhere. It was odd for sure.
We hit New York state at 10:30. We got out at the border to take some pictures by the sign. It was just slate and forest from here but we decided to keep going until we saw buildings. Due to our connection’s bedtime we decided to turn around after 20 or so minutes of driving into Upstate New York. We drove the Hour and a Half back to Umass Amherst, eventually found the dorm and paid for parking. We ended up falling asleep at two or so in the morning with nothing but our clothes as warmth. I slept on a bare mattress with my jeans wrapped in my T-shirt as a pillow, and Jack slept on the floor with his backpack as a pillow. We hit the road at 6:00 in the morning and got dunks in Orange. Maybe it wasn’t so different out there.
