Being one of the first areas in our country to be settled by the European colonialists, I expected crowded cities with all their modern-day suburbs, shopping centers, and highways. Instead, the state is mostly forested, with clean, well-preserved villages that still reflect their colonial heritage.

The heavily-forested mountains of western Massachusetts were undoubtedly the most poetic I have crossed thus far. The thick stands of maple, beech, oak, pine, and white and silver birches provided ever-present shade or birdsong, or just a secluded spot for a nap.

Surprisingly, traffic was light on the rural roads I traveled. Which is amazing, when one considers that western Massachusetts is but an hour or two by car from New York City, Albany, northern New Jersey, Boston, and Hartford, Conn.

Although I was told that many lakes and streams were affected by acid rain, they looked clean. And what a blessing that was on those humid and hot days, when I frequently jumped into the water to keep from boiling over.

From Springfield in central Massachusetts, I found much of the urban sprawl I had been expecting. But it was never as bad as in New Jersey. Wisely, the people of Massachusetts have incorporated parks and woods into their urban areas.

Thoughtfulness seems to be natural in the "Bay State." One example was on July 5. The Springfield morning newspaper carried a story about me in which the writer mentioned that I had lost 20 pounds on the walk. That morning I was to leave for Boston. I never made it past the suburbs that day. So many people, particularly the older folks, came to greet me on their sidewalks, to invite me inside their homes for something to eat. I never had the chance to get going.

By the end of the day I was stuffed with milkshakes, hamburgers, ham-and-cheese sandwiches, and cake and ice cream. I also had a nice, warm bed in which to sleep. And that bed couldn't have come at a better time, for it poured rain all night.

Steven