On October 9th, 2013, Jen and I hiked Mount Greylock, the highest peak in Massachusetts, tucked way up in the northwest corner. We chose a Wednesday because this is peak foliage season up there which means the mountain spends its weekends covered with hikers. There’s also a road to the summit, so even people incapable of the hike crowd the space on the weekends.
I apologize but also give welcome in advance for publishing such a photo-heavy post. Below are fifty-nine photos of the hike and the views of the forest and the mountains. I wanted to share so many photos because it’s truly one of the most beautiful days I’ve seen. The foliage was stunning and the weather was perfect. I have to credit myself in part for the weather, however. You see, the forecast called for a cloudy afternoon, so I called upon universal intelligence to keep it sunny and clear until after we reached and viewed the summit.
Just kidding.
I’m like 25% kidding.
We started at 9 am and returned to the car around 4:30 pm, taking our sweet time the whole way to really soak in the colors, the smells, the sights, and the sensations. I had been wanting to do this particular Mount Greylock hike for a while. It’s just over ten miles, from the Money Brook Trail (aptly named – it’s along a brook, and it’s fuckin’ money) to the Appalachian Trail to the summit, then down the Hopper Trail. Buddy and Rigs made it fine, although it took them longer than usual to rise from their sleeping positions the next morning. Jen’s dog, Layla, has more energy than any animal I’ve ever seen. She ranged around us almost the entire time without being on the actual trail. I estimate that while we walked around ten miles, Layla sprinted around twenty-five miles, the crazy little lovable bitch.
The main goal of this post, other than to inform New Englanders interested in the hike, is to show you how beautiful nature can be. Autumn in New England truly is a special time, and we deserve it, for the coldness and deadness of winter is coming fast. May as well be treated to some vibrant colors before everything turns grey and white and my genitalia retreat into my body for four months.
Without further ado, photos with captions:
For the entire Money Brook trail, the sound of the stream was ever-present. Sometimes it would fade away into the background, but I only needed to listen for it to hear its soothing whooshing. As we rose in elevation the terrain changed constantly, as did the vibrancy of the foliage. At the bottom, many trees hadn’t yet started to change. Halfway up the colors were the best, and at the top, most of the trees were past peak, but still pretty.
Thanks for reading.