The western-most town in the Pioneer Valley, Middlefield lies on the Hampshire/Hampden/Berkshire county borders, nestled between Worthington, Chester, Becket, Washington and Peru (the town, not the country in South America). Its population is tiny (just under 400), its main business is a witchcraft mail order operation, and its 1800-ft. elevation promised scenic views. From all reports, it seemed like a perfectly intriguing place for an afternoon drive. So, on a recent blissfully sunny day, we headed out to discover Middlefield.

Though MapQuest urged us to take the Pike, we were drawn to the back roads (the Blue Highways, as William Least Heat Moon so eloquently describes them) so we set off down I-91 for Northampton, picked up Route 9 into Williamsburg, and connected with 143 toward Chesterfield and Worthington. As we got farther and farther from civilization, we idly wondered: What do people who live out here do for a living? Where do they buy groceries? But, little did we know, the more remote terrain lay ahead.

Just past Worthington Corners, Route 143 took a jog north, and we finally found River Road, the byway hugging the middle branch of the Westfield that would take us south to Middlefield. It was late afternoon by this time, and skies once blue were clouding over, preparing for an earlier sunset than expected. The road narrowed, and its twists and turns made it imperative to watch the yellow line rather than the scenery. But soon, it straightened out a bit, and the view on either side opened up to expose beautiful farmland. We continued on.

Soon we came to the town line, marked not by the traditional "Entering Middlefield" crest, but by a battered white sign with Worthington on one side and Middlefield on the other. That was our first clue as to what lay ahead. The other (really big) clue was the road quality, which took an immediate turn for the worse. At first, it was just a bit bumpy, a paved road badly in need of pothole repair. So, ever the intrepid reporters, we pressed forward.

Don had located a road on the map, which would take us from the eastern border of Middlefield into the center of town, and the old-fashioned general store we were so anxious to see. However, when we reached the road, it was snow-covered with a straight uphill climb, not ideal driving conditions for our poor Ford Escort. So we looked for an alternate way and found it with Clark Wright Road, which was also the way to Glendale Falls, a natural wonder that was on our "must see" list.

By this time, we were wondering about the citizens of Middlefield. Are their poor roads a plot to keep foreigners from invading their environs? Just what are they doing behind those innocent-looking farm house doors? We pressed on.

When we finally found Clark Wright Road, it was another uphill climb, but less snow-covered than our intended route so we decided to go for it. Up the hill, around the corner, to a road surface barely touched by plows. At first, it was passable, but then the tires started to spin, which only brought up the mud underneath, encasing the back wheels in brown cement. Don jumped out and tried to push us forward, but that clearly wasn't going to work. And at first, it didn't seem like we were able to go backward either. But finally, one last push from the front freed the wheels and we lurched back. It was almost dark and now quite clear — we weren't going to Middlefield center that day. Discretion being the better part of valor, we backed down the road, turned around, and headed back to civilization. On the way back home, feeling sorry for ourselves, we stopped off in Northampton to indulge in a burger and fries at Packards.

Perhaps Middlefield is a town best seen in the spring or summer. And it's probably quite lovely in the fall. We’d like to go back, to check out that general store, see Glendale Falls, explore the abandoned soapstone quarry and find keystone railroad arches left over from the days of the B& A railroad. Maybe we'll return in August for the town's annual agricultural fair. After all, the roads ought to be passable by then.

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