Ware sits on the Ware River in the middle of Massachusetts, a brick mill town that never quite became a tourist stop and is better company for it. The river powered the factories that built the place, and you can still read that history in the long mill blocks and the tidy grid of streets running down toward the water. For a rider it is the logical doorway to the Quabbin country, the big reservoir that lies a short hop to the west.
Quabbin is the thing to understand about this part of the state. In the 1930s the valley of the Swift River was cleared and flooded to give Boston its drinking water, and four towns, Dana, Enfield, Greenwich and Prescott, went under or were taken apart. What you ride now is a rim around a lake that has no houses, no marinas and no jet skis, because the land around it is protected to keep the water clean. The roads are quiet, lined with oak and maple, and in autumn the colour is properly good without the crowds that swamp the Berkshires.
The riding here is gentle rather than dramatic. Expect moderate rolling roads, some tight little bends where a brook crosses, and the occasional frost heave that the New England winter leaves behind every spring, so keep an eye out for patched asphalt. Wildlife is a real factor: deer at dusk, wild turkeys that treat the road as theirs, and bald eagles that were reintroduced around the reservoir and now nest there. Early morning is the best hour, when the air smells of wet leaves and the mist hangs on the water.
Ware is a proper town of about six thousand people, so you will find fuel and something to eat on the main road, and nearby Warren and West Brookfield are smaller places along Route 9 that fit a coffee halt. Take your time through the centre, where the old Main Street has a certain tired dignity, and then head out toward the reservoir. The gates and overlooks on the Quabbin side are walking-only in places, so plan to leave the helmet on the bike for a short stroll if you want to see the water properly.