Harvard, Massachusetts, has nothing to do with the university of the same name except that both were named for the same seventeenth-century minister, John Harvard, and this town is a very different place: a small, hilly community of orchards, stone walls and meeting houses, about an hour west of Boston, with a population of about six thousand. Boxborough, a neighbour of about five thousand, lies a short ride to the east. The town centre is a classic New England common, with a white church, a library and a general store, and on a quiet morning it feels unchanged.
The roads around Harvard are among the best in this part of the state for an unhurried ride. Narrow lanes climb over gentle hills, past apple orchards and old farm buildings, with views opening across the valley to Wachusett Mountain. Route 111 runs through the centre, and quieter roads such as Old Littleton and Still River lead off into woods and fields. The surface is generally fine, with patches of rough asphalt and frost heaves, and the speed limits are modest. In autumn, when the orchards are open and the leaves turn, the roads can fill with visitors, so go early or on weekdays. Spring brings blossom and the smell of cut grass.
The town has a story that surprises visitors. In 1843 Bronson Alcott, the father of Louisa May Alcott, and a group of fellow idealists founded a utopian community at Fruitlands, a hillside farm in Harvard, where they hoped to live in harmony with nature, avoiding meat, animal products and even the use of animal labour. The experiment lasted only a few months and was a near-disaster, as the group had little farming experience and the harvest failed. Louisa, then a child, later wrote a funny account of it. The farmhouse survives as part of a museum with fine views, and the grounds hold collections of American art and Shaker artefacts. A real Shaker village once stood in Harvard, too, from the late eighteenth century, and some of its buildings survive.
Nature here is soft and cultivated. Apple orchards, hayfields and woods fill the landscape, with a few ponds and streams, and wildlife includes deer, foxes, wild turkeys and, occasionally, a moose wandering down from the north. The air smells of apples and wood smoke in autumn.
Fuel is available in nearby Ayer and Littleton, so fill up before arriving. Bring a layer for the morning chill, and stop at an orchard stand for cider if the season is right.