We took a quick spin on our bikes this morning, around the gargantuan beach campground that had at least 600 sites with more than half of them filled with big mama trailers. We couldn’t wait to pack up and make a dash for the western part of the state. Our big stop of the day was the town of Lowell, famous for Jack Kerouac and in its heyday being one of America’s most successful mill towns. It was so interesting driving into the town and seeing the enormous old brick warehouses and block after block of earthen red brick houses. We had a devil of a time trying to locate the Lowell National Historic Site and Visitor’s Center. The town is built around canals and rivers that twist and turn and hardly any of the streets are named. We stopped and asked a policewoman, who was in the process of writing up a parking ticket, for directions, but she was not very clear or sure where to send us. Through trial and error we finally found the Visitor’s Center. Apparently we weren’t the only ones befuddled. While waiting for a movie on the history of Lowell we struck up a conversation with some folks from Missouri. They asked us if we had a hard time finding the place. They had asked a local policeman for directions. He too was unsure where to send them. (Ironically, after waiting several min. pasted the posted start time we finally inquired and was told the movie was broken. Would it have hurt to hang up a sign?!) Several others in the Visitor’s Center were complaining to the Park Ranger about the lack of signage directing people to the Center. Interestingly enough, no one in charge really seemed to care. We have two thoughts on this; the local townspeople are really clueless on the great gem of this national park or they are purposely trying to discourage the “beatnik” types from getting too comfortable in town. Regardless, this place was well worth the digging. The history of the mills and the part they played in America’s history is well documented. One can also take a driving tour of Jack Kerouac’s early years, visiting the mills, hang-outs and home that was so descriptively featured in his novels. We walked through town and visited the commemorative park that had some passages of his work etched on huge granite slabs. Even though we now had a park issued map, it still took us awhile to find the cemetery where Jack was buried. (The map is completely out of date and the roads have changed.) We finally located the correct cemetery and found his headstone. It’s very modest and innocuously located. The fans that have visited this site have honored Jack by placing empty beer bottles, cigarettes and such on his marker. We added to the collection by placing our own memento of a Route 66 wooden nickel. (See today’s pic). We thought this was quite appropriate and Jack would approve. We continued across Massachusetts, finally leaving the busy highways surrounding Boston, and connected to highway 2. It was a gorgeous drive through thickly wooded forests hugging a river for most of the drive. This area is dotted with maple sugar stands, understandable since we are so close to the Vermont border. We stopped in Shelburne Falls to see the famous Flower Bridge. It used to be a trolley bridge bringing cotton from the mills and was last used in the 1920’s. About 70 years ago it was turned into an absolute gorgeous walking garden bridge! We enjoyed taking our time walking over the bridge and seeing the hundreds of flowers, shrubs and trees in full bloom. I kept thinking of my friend Patti and how much she would just love this! We took tons of pictures and left a small donation for the team of volunteers who work so hard to keep this sweet, picturesque little jewel alive. Tonight, we are camped in the hills of Mass. right next to the Appalachian Trail. Our campground is very thickly wooded and is situated around a small pond. At this point it seems as if we are the only ones here. Seems like a good time to pour a glass of wine and play some cards. I think somewhere Jack is smiling.
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