According to the Old Farmer’s Almanac, it won’t be long before the snow starts flying here in the Northeast. Jack Frost has already nipped at our toes once this season leaving behind the first hard frost. With daytime temps still in the mid-50s and 60s, however, we are getting out and enjoying these spectacular days of autumn while we can.

Last week, Bill and I drove to West Halifax, Vermont to look at an old plow truck advertised on Craig’s List. We jumped on Interstate 91 and headed north to Greenfield, Massachusetts. At Exit 26, we went around the rotary three quarters of the way to get onto The Mohawk Trail (Route 2). “The Trail” was once a Native American footpath used by Atlantic and Upstate New York tribes for hunting, trading, and war. Benedict Arnold used the trail to meet Ethan Allen to take Fort Ticonderoga during the American Revolution. It later became a wagon road traveled by early settlers, fur traders, and farmers. The Commonwealth of Massachusetts opened The Mohawk Trail highway 95 years ago. It’s recognized by the National Geographic Traveler and American Automobile Association as a National Scenic Byway.

We stayed on The Trail about four miles then turned north onto Colrain Shelburne Road. We were ambling along, enjoying the beautiful countryside, when we saw a sight a little out of the ordinary. A large American flag stood in the middle of a cow pasture on a hill that was seemingly in the middle of nowhere. Come to find out we were in Colrain, a township with deep patriotic roots. It’s early ancestors were the first to fly Old Glory over a schoolhouse. After the unforgettable events of 9/11/2001, a young Colrain farmer by the name of Kenny Shearer wanted to show his American pride as well. With help from his community, he erected this 28′ x 16′ structure, lit it up with neon, and called it “Glowing Glory.” It must be a sight to see at night. We’ll have to come back to get a closer look.

We took a right onto Route 112, another scenic byway, just after the little red church in Colrain Center.

Rolling meadows and farmland surrounded by rock walls and woods continued to unravel before our eyes. Another right turn and we were over the Vermont state line and onto a dirt road that surely led to Heaven. There is nothing quite as enjoyable as traveling off the beaten path to witness nature in all her autumn splendor.

Our GPS led us right to the plow truck in West Halifax, Vermont. Actually, the truck was a Jeep with a plow and winch. The owner, who has long since passed away, apparently loved that Jeep and was quite creative in how he used it. Not only did he plow and clear his lot with it, he somehow rigged it up as an “off the grid” power source for his house. As he got up there in years, he became stricken with Alzheimers. That didn’t stop him, however, from using Yankee ingenuity to discover new ways to use that vehicle, which worried the devil out of his neighbors. One day, the church parson stopped by to check on the old man. He found him sitting in his jeep, which was hanging from a tree…completely off the ground… face down. Apparently, the old man meant to use the winch to remove the tree. The tree didn’t budge. That was the day the “as is” Jeep was taken out of service. We’re pretty sure the same can be said about the old man.

Bill’s quest for a plow truck continues. By the way, if you know anyone looking for a 1,500-pound jeep attached to a 9,000-pound winch, I know where there’s one.

We decided to go a different way home. We somehow ended up on Vermont Route 8A, a beautiful, freshly-paved road! Just when we thought about coming back this way on our motorcycles, we hit a long stretch of frost heaves and pot holes. I believe it was on the Massachusetts side of Route 8A. Hopefully, the Bay State plans to resurface the road soon because the scenery in this part of the Connecticut River Valley is absolutely spectacular.

We passed pumpkin patches, apple orchards, and dairy farms. Horse farms, antique shops, and sugar shacks. Country folk were out gathering fallen branches, cutting wood, and raking leaves. Gardeners were filling their baskets with the last of summer’s bounty, and farmers were out “making hay.” Everyone, no matter what they were doing, greeted us with an earnest wave as we drove by.

Not sure if these bikers from New York were coming or going, but they certainly had the right idea. Had we not anticipated buying a plow truck, we would have been on our motorcycles too.

The Longview Tower is the tallest observation tower in Massachusetts. Apparently, you can see Massachusetts, Vermont, and New Hampshire from the top deck. The last time I climbed a tower similar to this, I could see the ground through the rungs beneath me. I totally lost my equilibrium… and my nerve. When I’m brave, I’ll go back and climb Longview’s five stories to see the magnificent panoramic view for myself.

Still, the colors at ground zero were spectacular.

Sunset from Sunrise Peak:

Focus on the journey, not the destination. Joy is found not in finishing an activity but in doing it. — Greg Anderson

Amen to that!