Pulpit Rock

From the time of the Civil War at least, if not earlier, and until after WWI, Pulpit Rock was a popular place for a good hike, for it not only afforded a nice picnic spot, but gave a spectacular view of the Deerfield River Valley. Viewed from below in the valley from the road to Hoosac Tunnel, Pulpit Rock is only one of the many places along the crest of the mountain marked by abrupt precipices.

Located in the western part of Rowe, Pulpit Rock has always been on private property. The spot was reached by a footpath going in from Tunnel Road. Once well-worn and well-travelled, the path, about a mile and a half in length is now overgrown and difficult to follow.

Looking into the Deerfield River valley near Dunbar Brook

Looking south toward Charlemont

In Mary P. Wells Smith’s book, Two in a Bungalow, she tells a story of a family picnic at Pulpit Rock in 1914. The original pencil sketch that served as the frontispiece for the book drawn by Thomas Goss is at the museum.

In her story Mrs. Smith described how they all went on a picnic on this fine summer day. They left their horse and carry-all with the friendly owner of the property and walked along an old grass worn bushy path toward a steep, wooded hill. As they continued to climb, the hill grew very steep and rocky. They were startled to find themselves suddenly on a ledge of rock which dropped down, down, down 900 feet to the Deerfield River.

Beside the river ran the thread of the narrow-gauge railroad called the Hoosac Tunnel & Wilmington Railroad (Hoot, Toot & Whistle). Beyond the railroad was the dusty carriage road. There are several scrapbooks and photographs of picnics taken by any number of families in Rowe at Pulpit Rock.

Today the path to Pulpit Rock is not as well-worn as it once was. The pulpit-like rock formation has disintegrated, the work of wind and weather over time. It’s a different railroad and the roads have changed but the view is still worth seeing. It’s sometimes hard for me to believe that such a place exists here in town – but I have seen it with my own eyes.

Text by Joanne Semanie. All images from the collection of Olive Wright Chamberlain.