An Ode to Amherst

There are certain places that we hold with sacred reverence in our hearts. Places that evoke strong emotions, bring back fond memories, and emit an energy that cannot be explained by their physical composition. Amherst, Massachusetts is without a doubt one of those places.

I first came to Amherst when I was 16 years old and was immediately spellbound. My family was driving out to visit my brother who had just begun his freshman year at UMass. For those unfamiliar with the westward journey across Massachusetts, think of it as a microcosm of the classic American story of heading west. It’s an abandonment of the rigid east coast culture in favor of a more easy-going, slower pace of life. For those that are going for the long term, the expedition is an opportunity for a fresh start in an unfamiliar land.

The tranquility of Western Mass hits you when you get off of Route 2. You peel off onto Daniel Shays Highway, a road that intersects farms and hosts general stores that look like they’ve been hanging around for a century. A few miles from the exit the scenery quickly turns wooded and these signs of civilization disappear, the only exception being small dirt parking lots for hikers. After a half-hour of chugging up and down hills, winding around turns, and getting stuck behind a Subaru going 5 under the speed limit, you arrive in Amherst. The UMass campus and downtown Amherst emerge like a hidden city, separate from the complications of the rest of the world.

Despite being seemingly isolated among trees on the drive in from the East, Amherst is dense with people and the gateway to a thriving natural landscape. Roads cut through tobacco farms, dilapidated barns wait selfishly to be photographed, and animals of all sorts scurry across the ground and soar through the air. The UMass campus has beautiful buildings and not so beautiful ones, but the view into the surrounding valley is truly unique. The hills are warmly undramatic, forming a blanket over the distant landscape, an invitation for restless feet and tired eyes. Below the hills, the Connecticut River meanders gently through the valley, lazily carrying water down from New Hampshire. Quaint houses adorn the streets around campus, unified in their quirkiness. Each one with a different style that fits into the neighborhood like a puzzle piece. Some of these houses have been sacrificed to rowdy students while others remain homesteads for young families and old retirees, but all parties contribute to the vibrant atmosphere. At once Eden and Atlantis, Amherst is truly a special place regardless of your age, but being in college makes it a portal into a different reality. 

John Campana @johncampana_

On sunny days in Amherst you can hear the hills sing the Grateful Dead

If being a sort of hidden metropolis in a sea of trees is not enough for it to be considered a bubble within the real world, the collegiate atmosphere definitely solidifies the separation. It’s a place where a lot happens, but, besides the students, not much changes. As generations pass, lore spreads from alumni about the antics they used to pull back in the day. There is a sense of shared experience that is rare between people so far apart in age. The UMass campus feels like a place where time ceases to exist. A promised land for the youth of suburban Massachusetts to work and play, only to return to reality a few years later. It’s a vibe that’s tough to capture in words. A place that must be visited, but not as a full-blown adult. To experience Amherst fully requires a certain optimism and naivety only possible with an unburdened mind.

Maybe everybody feels this way about their college town, but I’d be surprised. Most people probably don’t even feel this way about Amherst. For some people, it's a necessary stop on a greater path to a prestigious career in a big city. For some people, it’s a terrible place where their world falls apart and they struggle to create a new one. And for some people, it’s just where they happened to grow up or settle down. But for some of us, it’s wonderful. It’s a place in space and time that will be fondly remembered but never recreated. It’s bittersweet, knowing I can come back to Amherst but never really be back. At the same time, it’s comforting to know that every year Amherst welcomes thousands of more kids to experience it in all its beauty.

If you enjoyed this post, feel free to share it.

To stay up to date on future posts subscribe below or follow me on Twitter.