Below you'll find a list of all posts that have been categorized as “Recreation for Archives”
In my columns, I have taken you fly-fishing the length of the wonderful Connecticut River—from the headwaters in the Great North Woods of New Hampshire to the Green Mountains of Vermont, the Berkshires of Massachusetts, and the many waters of Connecticut.
In the Ashuelot River Valley of southwestern New Hampshire, six historic covered bridges stand as examples of 19th-century engineering, innovation, and craftsmanship.
Looking upstream from the shoreline of the Connecticut River on this quintessential July day, mesmerized by the bucolic view of the state line between Vermont and New Hampshire, I was suddenly startled by the sound of rustling splashes from behind me.
The Connecticut River is a paddler’s paradise, and those who live within the watershed can count themselves most fortunate to be able to enjoy it.
In its spawning splendor, the brook trout is one of the most exquisite creatures on earth.
After a steady ascent past waterfalls, diverse forests, and scenic vistas, I stepped onto the highest point of the Connecticut River valley—Mount Ascutney’s 3,144-foot summit.
Gracing the quiet hills of Vernon, Connecticut, the Belding WMA is a nature preserve, kindly donated to the State of Connecticut by the Belding Family in 1981.
On Old Main Street in the village center of Deerfield, Massachusetts, the meticulously restored buildings of Historic Deerfield line a picturesque, tree-shaded thoroughfare.
Not long ago, I was feeling snappish. Struggling over things I did need to do. Getting distracted with things I did not need to do
In the short, dark days of winter, we find ourselves thinking back to the angling season just past, fondly remembering our time on the water.
On a late spring day, I sat in a rustic cabin in northern Vermont, guest of Owen Ward, head Orvis guide for the well-known Woodstock Inn.
Inspired by artists and writers such as Thomas Cole and Timothy Dwight, many tourists during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries came to the Connecticut River valley to visit the region’s mountain houses atop peaks such as Mount Tom, Mount Holyoke, and Mount Sugarloaf. Visitors enjoyed the panoramic views and amenities such as restaurants, observatories, theaters, concerts, and inclined railroads.
The late-May morning I arrived at the Greater
Hartford Jaycees Community Boathouse on the
Connecticut River for my first-ever rowing lesson,
I was equal parts apprehensive and ambitious.
Avid trout anglers learn not only about the fish but the working of the watershed. Yes, we want to be completely in touch with our rivers. And one aspect of that desire is to study aquatic macro invertebrates. Tucked under rocks, buried in the mud, encased in gravel and sand, they abide on the riverbed, an essential part of the trout’s food chain.
Inspired by artists and writers such as Thomas Cole and Timothy Dwight, many tourists during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries came to the Connecticut River valley to visit the region’s mountain houses atop peaks such as Mount Tom, Mount Holyoke, and Mount Sugarloaf. Visitors enjoyed the panoramic views and amenities such as restaurants, observatories, theaters, concerts, and inclined railroads.
Some folks go on an annual religious pilgrimage. My annual journey is to see mountain laurel which blooms from late May to early June.
In March 1835 Amherst College professor Edward Hitchcock received a letter about a mysterious discovery in Greenfield, Massachusetts. The writer, a doctor named James Deane, described bird-like tracks embedded in a slab of sandstone rock.
On an Autumn evening last year, I got a text message from guide Chris Jackson offering me a half-day float on the Deerfield River. His offer, however, came with a warning. Drought conditions, coupled with unseasonably warm weather plaguing the entire Northeast at that time, had caused river conditions that were low and warm, resulting in difficult fishing.
I’m going to introduce you to an effective fly that I doubt you have ever heard of, nor are you apt to find it in any fly-tying book, fly-fishing catalog, or in any fly shop. It’s called the Eighty-Eight.
Visiting scenic orchards of western Massachusetts while enjoying fall foliage, a quintessential New England combination, is a favorite autumn tradition of mine. It’s a great opportunity to support local family-owned farms, which are becoming increasingly rare.