Brooks Pond, North Brookfield, MA

From Rte. 148, nearly at the north boundary of North Brookfield, there is a little road called Brooks Pond Road. About a mile down, there is a parking area on the right, and a small gravel beach on the left. From the beach, the pond doesn't look like much. I didn't see anything that looked like a boat ramp and really no signs of motor boats.

In a well-practiced drill, I had the boat off the roof and all my gear down to the water in 6 minutes. No time to waste, it was already 5:14. The sun would set at 5:50. I put in and paddled hard away from the road. The wind was strong, but not the 20 to 30 mph they had predicted. They had also predicted temperatures dropping into the 30's, and here I was paddling in my t-shirt.

I quickly crossed the space visible from the road and, rounding the point, was treated to a view of a small archipelago of islands, each ringed with a base of scarlet-leaved blueberry bushes and topped with red maples and whispering green pines. The slanted sunlight punctuated the brilliant relief of each island. I paused in wonder, wanting to paddle through all the little corridors between.

Beyond the cluster of islands, more islands and jagged shores invited more exploration. I love waters like this. The more corners I can't see around, the more it feels like adventure. The islands worked to strip away my hurry, the last vestiges of the busy day, and I popped the spray skirt, reached behind the seat and pulled out a drink. I let the wind blow me around while the half moon grew in brightness against the darkening red sky. It was a flukey wind, first a gust from the north, then a gentle breeze from the west, then another blow from the south. The wind turned me, blew me one way then the next. I covered quite a lot of distance that way, but ended up not far from the beginning.

I mustered more energy and paddled to the far end. The pond seems more like a river, then gets real shallow before progress is halted by a beaver dam. A few vestiges of pond lillies guided me through the shallows. Now under nothing but moonlight, I powered back to the put-in. At the archipelago, I saw a canoe shining brightly. At first I headed around an island to avoid it, then said what the heck, anyone paddling out on a moonlit night must be OK.

I pulled up and said hello to Tara and Mike. Mike asked me a question or two about paddling, then asked me if I was Hal the Gullboy! Now how on earth would anyone guess that? Well, that was pretty cool, we chatted for a bit, then I headed back to the car, completely refreshed in under two hours. What a nice little gem of a pond.  - Matt