Tippecan Trails

I often think about the trails

I roamed when still a boy of twelve

Although I never went alone

I always took my dad along.

We sometimes hiked most of the day

Along those dark and lonely trails

Always alert for different trees

On which my father would expound.

This is mainly how I learned of

Different kinds of trees and shrubs

Along with birds that we did see

Once stopped to watch a red tailed hawk

That circled in the sky above

Then we’d continue on our way

Along the trails that had no name

Or marks, for many years to come.

We roamed the trails and old dirt roads

That circled Tippecansett Pond

From Escoheag at Palmer’s store

Past old Money’s place and farm

Then past the Hazard burial place.

We’d hike on past the iron tower

Where rangers watched for signs of fire

And where blueberries grew the best.

            -2-

Molasses Corners came up next

After passing the old homestead

Of Welcome Burdick, known those days

As Welky T., my cousin’s dad

A Yankee with a gray streaked beard

That I remember to this day,

Who had large holdings thereabouts

On Escoheag and other spots.

Now bear in mind that where we hiked

Was once all farmland, mainly owned

By Welcome Burdick and his son

The old Pratt Place on Escoheag

That did include the Stepstone Falls

Besides his homestead near the spring

That’s on the trail to Tippecan

And crosses over Parris Brook.

The land is now a forest thick

With oak and maple, pine and birch

And has a host of other trees

That make the forests of today

No chestnuts are there anymore

For they were done in by the blight

But of mosquitoes and deer flies

There are enough for everyone.

             -3-

On summer days when we did hike

The sun from noon to five got hot

But when we stayed among the trees

The shady forest was so cool

And so we’d hike the open roads

In morning ‘fore the sun was high

and reach the shaded forest trails

To rest, and beat the summer’s heat.

That portion of the trail that ran

From the tower at Escoheag

Down past the spring on Burdick’s place

To Parris Brook at Tippecan

Then up the hill, around the pond

Until it hit the road again

That old dirt road that once was known

As the old road to Voluntown.

It went right past that burial ground

Where the Congdon’s buried their own

And where in many years to come

I’d buy this land so I could camp

Close to the lake of memories

We’d often pass right by this land

Not knowing what the future held

Then take the trail back to our camp.

            -4-

I’ve often thought of those old trails

That now are marked and carry names

Like Tippecansett, North and South

Divided by the Ten Rod Road

If one goes south along this trail

He’ll wind up at the Boy Scout Camp

By going north eventually

Breakheart Pond would be his goal.

In later years, my boys were grown

I took my Scout troop to Breakheart.

I parked my car down near the brook

Then we’d hike to Ten Rod Road, and

Going westerly toward Beach Pond

Here we’d pick up the yellow trail

And go north until we came to

The old Congdon burial ground.

And just below this sacred spot

My scouts had made a camping site

And here we’d build a fire to cook

The wrapped up stew that we would eat.

And after eating would clean up

Then take out maps and compass too

And then decide which way we’d go

To meet the trail at Parris Brook.

            -5-

Then thru the woods in Indian file

We’d check the compass as we went

And in this way these boys could get

Their map and compass work complete

Along with their twenty mile hike

And when we cut the yellow trail

Just above the rock bound brook

I knew these boys would now do well.

We traveled northward up the hill

And stopped for water at the spring

That once had housed the old milk house

Of Welky Burdick long years ago.

I once had tried to buy this piece

Through a rep, who wanted land for

The South County Rod and Gun Club

And so this piece was sold to them.

We kept on climbing thru nude trees

And thru the bare blueberry shrubs

Until we came up to the tower

That looks out over Escoheag

And all surrounding hills as well.

We were now going in reverse

To what my dad and I once hiked

So many years ago it seems.

            -6-

We went on out into the road

That passed the Hazard burial lot

Then past old Money’s empty house

To enter into woods again

On the east of Escoheag.

We traveled downward ‘til we met

The parking lot at Stepstone Falls

Then moved on down to River Road.

We hiked along the Falls River

Until we met the old dirt roads

That took us back to Breakheart Pond

Which frozen solid from the cold

Made a playground for the boys and

Here they decided they would play

While I went on to get the car

And then we headed back to home.

I have not hiked those trails again

Since we did move to Holden, Mass.

Though often parked quite near one trail

The one that led to Stepstone Falls

And I would take my children there

To see the raging water flow

O’er all the giant rocks that made

These Stepstone Falls the place it was.

            -7-

Now these occasions did occur

When we had spent the entire day

Swimming at the Beach Pond beach

And wanted just a little change

From too much sand, and too much sun

So took a ride to Escoheag

Then down the C.C.C. built road

To park in shade quite near the trail.

This was a spot I used to know

The time the road was built by the

Civilian Conservation Corp

For it was on the old Pratt place

A place my cousins used to own

Where my cousin Esther and I

Did pick so many blueberries

For all the bakeries in town.

We’d stay in camp that Shorty built

For three or four long weeks or more

And on each Saturday would come

My cousin in his Overland

To take the berries that we’d picked.

I know not what the bakeries paid

But I received ten cents a quart

A goodly sum to a boy just twelve.

            -8-

These were the memories I had

When ever I did pass this way

What once was camp with open fields

Now camp was gone, fields filled with pine

The well that had been used for years

Had been filled by the C.C.C.

And all that land that I once knew

Now was known as the Beach Pond Park.

I finally sold the land that held

The Congdon cemetery lot

That bordered Tippecansett North

The trail we all did like to hike

From Dad, to Larry, and my kids

To Boy Scouts from the troops I’ve led.

All now are scattered far and wide

Not one now hikes those well-worn trails.

My dad has gone, and Larry too

Both hold a great part in my life

Both wandered with me on these trails

And gave to me a sense of right

My dad taught me what I now know

Of woods and streams, of birds and trees

And Larry shared these things with me

These trails are now just memories.