Last night the weather was a picture perfect spring evening - 70 degrees and not a cloud in the sky.  I began my mountain bike ride journey from Dunstable Road, my home of 14 years.  As I pedaled on meandering Tenney Road, I heard birds fluttering in the cattail-riddled swamp on my left - sure signs of spring.  I turned left onto Keyes Road (not pronounced "Keys", rather the "eyes" part pronounced as you would in "eyeball", I am told) and cruised past a mirror-like Keyes Pond.  Keyes Pond is seldom used and chock full of perch, crappie, bass and pickerel (access point is the Slifer Conservation Land, as well as a small public opening on Keyes Pond, so I am told).  I crossed Rt 40 at Rancho Des Amigos, the past location, for me, of many a cold beer, decent service, and sometimes very decent tacos.  Now stands some behemoth townhouse condos, some of which I recall being listed as affordable.  I remember the neighbors complaining about this project and the size of the units as well as the density.  I wasn't sure at the time, but I am now - those complaints were dead on.

 

I continued my ride down Nutting Road to the dirt road, sometimes called the Red Line for the rusted train rails that once were found here, which is now an electrical easement gravel road that runs parallel to Rt 40.  Here I directed my mountain bike up westward and up the slope towards Stoney Brook School.  I remember walking with my dog Dozer (my best buddy, RIP) on some nice wooded trails that were once here years ago - now there is a school parking lot.  Actually, the school is a great addition, and the loss of trails a small price.  We now have a beautiful track to run on, playing fields, and a set of tennis courts.  And a place for me to vote (instead of rotating through a church, several schools and a golf course clubhouse).  The Stoney Brook School parking lot also provides parking and back access to East Boston Camps, Westford's "gem" and my first of several pedaling destination this evening.

 

I maneuvered my bicycle around some rocks and sticks onto some well-used trails in EBC.  I remembered running these trails back in the early 1980's when I ran cross-country for Chelmsford High School.  East Boston Camps was a magical and wild place then.  It's still magical now, though a lot less wild.  Wider trails, and many more people are the biggest differences over the past 25 years, is my observation.  And tonight is no different.  I see people fishing Burges Pond, several runners, but unusually no dog walkers.  My old dog Dozer and I used to love walking these trails and I'm thrilled we ponied up the millions to preserve it.  Loss of my semi-exclusive and semi-secret fishing and swimming hole is also a small price to pay to preserve this special spot.  Is a spot any less special if you share it with others?

 

My ride through East Boston Camps was quick, too quick, but it was just one stop on my journey.  I rode past the Stony Brook store, though I am not sure of the name, and am happy to see a business there and hopefully thriving.  This store was a water stop many times for me while training for a marathon.  But no time to stop today.  My next destination was Grassy Pond, a half-mile up Plain Road.  Grassy Pond was one of the first conservation properties that I discovered, thanks to the official town map, in 1988, when I moved to Westford.  Grassy Pond is a peaceful but well trafficked parcel yet I found myself enjoying the land alone this evening.  Apparently most were at East Boston Camps. Fine with me, I mused, as I recalled many a walk with my family and family dog, Duke, back in the early 90s.  Trails in Grassy Pond have been widened for handicap access, by an Eagle Scout, I recalled.  And as I rode, I wondered if this Scout had actually sat in a chair tested the newly smoothen trails.  I bet he had, though tree roots must still pose a challenge.

 

After exiting Grassy Pond, from the back-side trail, I continued my journey through the Nabnasset section of town.  Many small and old houses, with scattered new large houses flash by me as I ride.  I pedal past spectacular southern bluff-views of Nabnasset Lake, though lake is a misnomer, as it is seems more like a big pond.  I think these people are lucky to live on waterfront homes, even though many homes are old and small. I ride past Edwards Beach and remember being 10 years old and building sand castles here in the sand, only to be yelled at by Mr. Edwards.  Seriously. This old guy was yelling at me for digging in the sand - it seems he paid for the sand and didn't want it washing away.  Still, fond memories of days in the water when I was just a kid.   As I ride past the Nabnasset Dam, I see 5 people fishing and wish I was there with them. The water looks beautiful and inviting.  I am reminded that when I first moved to town and had direct access to Nab. The town did not own the dam back then and who ever owned it opened the dam and the water level dropped so much that you could see an island in the middle of the pond.  I swam across the pond many times and used that Island as a resting point.  I recall some lawsuits, fund raising, and eventually the town purchased the dam.  I also recall catching some nice smallmouth bass, pickerel and crappy during my 5+ years on Nab.  And a lot less weeds back then. Maybe draw-downs really aren't bad.  I also recall an extremely large snapping turtle (and I mean small dinner table large!), but that is a story for another day.  As I rode, I pased Pollyanna Lane location of my first home ever.  I lived for over 5 years in a 90-year old converted "camp".  Great times.

 

I had a fleeting memory of running past my old road years before living there, when my x-country teammates and I "borrowed" a Lowell Sun to see if our names were in the paper from a prior x-country race (Our names were in the paper  - I think we still owe someone $.25.).  I turned left onto Lawson Road to hug the lake and marveled at the many new and nice houses being constructed in place of old camps.  Though this is a terrible dirt road, the lake access and views are spectacular.  Lucky people I thought.  I popped out onto the dirt road/red line and rode through the Lakeside development, which was once a gravel pit (before my time), then a beautiful large grassy field and is now home to some big, expensive and beautiful homes.  I recalled running track workouts in this hilly field 25+ years ago, and even one night where both the Chelmsford and Billerica cross-country teams, bitter rivals, joined together one winter evening for some "beverages", sledding and a bonfire.  Can you believe no one (police) bothered us?  I can't, but it is true: big fire in the middle of the field in the middle of the night. 

 

I continued down the red line/dirt road, crossing first Depot, then Dunstable roads.  As I rode parallel to Rose Lane, I remembered an effort 10 years or so ago to make this gravel road an official bike path.  I recalled that the Rose Lane abettors were some of the more vocal objectors to this project and thought that was too bad, an official path would have tied nicely into the Stoney Brook School and East Boston Camps.    As I continued my ride I came to what I dubbed 18 years ago, "Illusion Bridge".  As you approach the dirt road intersection to Nutting Road, it appears that the dirt road continues right over Nutting, but that is just an illusion.  The bridge supports are still there but only air spans the distance.  Still, every time I approach from this angle, I marvel at the illusion (check it out for yourself!).  I cut down onto Nutting Road and coasted the final 2 miles back home, to the start of my journey.  A journey of approximatley 10 miles, total time of 1 hour and 10 minutes, and almost 25 years of memories.  A beautiful night for riding and reminiscing.  I felt extremely lucky to be alive and living in Westford...