Fall in(to) Cambridge

Cambridge is made for fall. From the university campuses to the tree-lined streets, fall in Cambridge means two months of bright blue skies and flaming leaves set off against the red bricks of school buildings and sidewalks. I first came to Cambridge fifteen years ago as a freshman in college, only to find that fall in New England was a fundamentally different concept than fall in Portland.

First, a New England fall is sunny. In Portland, on the other hand, the rain starts around October 1 and doesn't let up until sometime in May. 

Second, thanks to the clear skies, the leaves in Cambridge crunch. If you grew up outside the Pacific Northwest, I assure you - you underestimate the miracle of crunchy leaves. All through my childhood, fall just meant decomposing piles of sodden brown leaves beaten down by weeks of rain. You didn't rake leaves as much as push them into sad little piles that vaguely resembled something scatological. 

Third, because fall is a true shoulder season here - a distinct change from what came before, but not so sudden that you just want to hide indoors - there are super-special fall festivities, annual traditions keyed to the gradual shift in season. These traditions make the fall for me. After the difficulty of moving back across the country and starting a new job this summer, fall in Cambridge was like a warm and fuzzy welcome mat. Year after year, these are my favorite (free) fall traditions:

Apple picking (and apple baking)

As strawberry picking in June is to Oregon, so is apple picking in September and October to Massachusetts. Every weekend, hordes of cars head out of Boston to nearby u-pick orchards, complete with hayrides, petting zoos, and the all-important cider doughnut. (mmmm, doughnuts....)

No, this is not just a field trip for families, and no, that's not just because grown-ups love cider doughnuts, too. There's something rejuvenating about spending an afternoon outside on a blue-sky fall day, gathering your food right from the source. There's something affirming about the way an apple feels in your hand - whole, smooth, firm - as you pull it from the bough. Ideally, apple picking is a group activity with friends, followed by a glut of apple-themed baking back home (apple pie, apple crumble, apple cake, baked apples, sautéed apples, apple sauce… but mostly apple pie).

Truth be told, going out to pick your own apples isn't any cheaper than buying the bags of local apples that show up in the grocery stores this time of year anyway. And truth be told, I ran out of time to go apple picking this year (sad). But it's still my favorite fall activity.

Head of the Charles

Nothing says Ivy League like a crew regatta. Every year, mid-October, hordes of prep school and college crew teams descend on Cambridge for a civilized party along the Charles river. This year the weather was particularly perfect, with the boats racing through the glittering water to the faint rhythmic click of oar locks and the calls of coxswains. Spectators packed the bridges; families on picnic blankets covered the river banks; and the stretch of the river alongside Harvard's campus was transformed into a low-key carnival.

Crewing down the Charles.

For me, Head of the Charles can be more fun than a homecoming game: both provide an excuse to be outside on a beautiful fall day, but watching crew boats is like watching art in motion, plus you don't really have to pay attention to whose ahead or what the score is - and you can leave anytime. It is a peaceful form of quasi-spectatorship, more about people-watching and traditions than about driving towards a single, definitive goal.

In other words - as they say - it's about the experience, not the destination.

Outdoor adventures

August and December - two months I don't want to be outside in Boston. So in between, you have to make up for lost time. In past years, I've used the fall to go walking in the hills outside Boston. In college, there would be outings to New Hampshire for hikes and canoeing (canoeing: it always sounds like such a good idea…). This year, we broke out our Dutch-style bikes and headed for the Minuteman Bikeway.

Fall on the Minuteman Bikeway.

An early rails-to-trails success, the Minuteman Bikeway starts at the edge of Cambridge and runs for ten easy miles past Lexington to Bedford. In the fall, the ponds and parks along the path are framed by foliage, and the mild weather draws out families on bikes with kids like ducklings trailing behind their parents.

We stopped in Lexington to take in "history," consisting primarily of the town's green where the first (unplanned) shots of the Revolutionary War were fired. Not high on my list of must-see tourist sites for the region, it still provided a convenient excuse for a beautiful ride.

Jeff on the Lexington Green: The start of the American Revolution, aflame.

Fall Foliage

And then, of course, there's the leaves. I suppose you can drive out of the city to go "leaf peeping," but being under the age of fifty, I can't say that's really my style. Luckily, Cambridge alone offers plenty of fall colors, more than enough to keep me entertained.

I spend a lot my time walking around Cambridge: to work, to friends', to restaurants and Starbucks, to the doctor's office and the library. For ten weeks or so, my walks were defined by the ever-changing trees; with a dry and sunny season, the leaves turned in slow waves that made fall feel like it was lasting forever. Each week, I had a new favorite tree, and I was not the only one stopping to take pictures with my camera phone. One afternoon I watched little children in Harvard Yard collect big red maple leaves and gather them into prickly bouquets. It's like stopping to smell the roses in Portland: the beauty of the fall is everywhere, if you can pause long enough to appreciate it.

Camera phone snapshots,
walking to and from work.

Mt. Auburn Cemetery on Halloween morning.

When my super-cool friend Megan came through town on Halloween, we celebrated the macabre - and the end of the foliage season - with a pilgrimage to Cambridge's Mt. Auburn Cemetery. Yes, famous people are buried there, but I appreciate much more the cemetery's park-like setting, which even at that late date was on fire with fall leaves.


Now the weather has turned again, and last week's snow flurries tell me we are heading resolutely into winter. The trees are skinny and bare, and the morning skies are no longer blue but that steely whiteness that promises scarcity and cold for months to come. For me, Thanksgiving marks the official end of fall, a last hurrah of harvest and plenty before we settle in for the winter. I am grateful this Thanksgiving for the beautiful Cambridge fall, for new beginnings and old friends - and for adventures still to come.