San Diego Union-Tribune (Sunday)
Scenic byways are on a roll
34 routes bestowed new national recognition, along with another 15 designated as All-american Roads
The last time I cruised along Route 2 in western Massachusetts, I was a minor strapped in the back seat of my parents’ car, and the road was just asphalt under our tires. When we met again a few weeks ago, we had both advanced to the next level. I was now behind the driver’s wheel, and the Mohawk Trail was a National Scenic Byway, one of the highest accolades — and greatest compliments — a U.S. road can receive.
Earlier this year, the Federal Highway Administration unveiled 34 new National Scenic Byways and 15 All-american Roads in 28 states, bringing the total to 184 in
48 states. (Hawaii and Texas are two exceptions, but this could change in the Lone Star State: Its senate passed the Texas Scenic Byways bill last month.) The announcement was a long time coming. The agency, which has run the program since 1991, last bestowed the honor in 2009.
“One of the things we know about Americans is that they love their cars and the open road. That is a big part of this,” said Mark Falzone, president of Scenic America, a nonprofit dedicated to preserving the country’s beauty. “We are seeing a revival in scenic byways, and it couldn’t come at a better time, because of COVID-19 and restrictions.”
To be considered for the designation, the route must satisfy a few prerequisites. It must be a state scenic byway, possess regional importance and exhibit one (Scenic National Byway) or two (All-american Road) of six
“intrinsic qualities.” The application only requires the minimum number, but many of the roads contain several of the characteristics: cultural, natural, historical, recreational, archaeological and scenic. I could count the Mohawk Trail’s attributes on five fingers.
At 69 miles, the Mohawk Trail is a condensed road trip, and yet it took hours to complete. The dog-eared line about the journey eclipsing the destination applied.
The road opened in 1914 as one of the country’s first leisure drives. However, Native Americans had been hunting and trading on its unpaved predecessor, hence the name of the byway and the logo of a Mohawk raising his open arms to the sky.
Because only the co-pilot had received her vaccine, my mother and I stuck to outdoor attractions. We strolled around Williams College’s torn-from-anadmissions-catalog campus and grabbed a Mediterranean lunch in Williamstown’s one-street downtown. We explored the outbuildings of Mass MOCA, a contemporary art museum that occupies a former printing factory. I didn’t remember the microbrewery, and not because I had been barely out of juice boxes on our last family vacation here. Bright Ideas Brewing is a fairly new addition to the complex.
At several points along the route, I scrambled out of the car to walk with soft footsteps on the Mohican-mohawk Recreation Trail. Other reminders of the original travelers appeared through the windshield, such as the “Hail to the Sunrise” statue (the image on the byway signage) and Salmon Falls in Shelburne Falls, where the Mohawks and Penobscots agreed to a hunting and fishing treaty in the 1700s. “I remember scrambling over those rocks,” my mother said of the glacial potholes at the falls, dating our earlier trip to Pre-liability Times.
As the sun started to descend, I climbed up Poet’s Seat Tower in Greenfield, the byway’s eastern terminus. From my stone perch, I surveyed a land that was more than just scenic.