Litchfield Hills: It's a people place

By Jeff Miller, Globe Correspondent

IF YOU GO . . . Places to visit

LITCHFIELD, Conn. -- After any road trip vacation I've taken, friends and family inevitably ask, ''What did you see?'' To me, that's only half the question; the other is, ''Whom did you meet?''

It's true that the major attraction of most car trips is discovering scenic wonders while exploring unknown countryside. But equally important are the people met along the way. Chance encounters, shared conversations, and personal connections make for memorable road trips.

With that in mind, a recent three-day exploration of Connecticut's Litchfield Hills was one of my best road trips. The countryside lived up to my expectations. Narrow will-o'-the-wisp roads snapped and cracked through forested hills and cultivated valleys, passing stone walls and well-maintained farms, connecting quaint New England villages of town greens and white-steepled churches.

The people didn't let me down, either. A few special residents helped me see the surrounding landscape through their eyes. An international tea blender envisions the countryside filled with tea lovers. A kayak instructor sees only the roar and thunder of a river's white water. And a master boat builder views the area as a quiet refuge where he can piece together his beloved boats.

Only 100 miles north of New York City, the Litchfield Hills is a 40-square-mile area in the northwest corner of Connecticut.

As the name declares, it's filled with hills that roll into lush valleys and cradle fast-moving rivers, peaceful country lakes, and sleepy New England villages. Seventeen state parks have numerous hiking trails and picnic areas, while the scenic Housatonic River is known for fly fishing, white water, and the Appalachian Trail that follows it for a ways.

Because of its central location to the area, I chose the town of Litchfield as a base for day trips, although another easy option is to stay in a different village or town every night. Litchfield is a town of 6,500 people, many of whom shop the upscale stores and live in the clapboard mansions that line two major thoroughfares, North and South Streets. founded in 1720, Litchfield is considered the quintessential New England town -- due in part to the presence of the 1829 First Congregational Church on the town's green.

From Litchfield, I started exploring by heading north/northwest. I enjoyed the early morning run up small Route 272 as the sunlight flickered through tall conifers and shimmered off Stillwater Pond. Stopping to take a picture, I was reminded of a valuable road-trip lesson: Remember to stop and listen. Meadowlarks and warblers called back and forth as a slight breeze rustled the pine needles. From the far side of the pond I heard the distinctive slap of a beaver tail on water.

Farther along, I turned west and took Route 44 to the scenic Salisbury/Lakeville area. It was here, just before Lakeville, that I came to Harney & Sons Tea Tasting Room. In 1983, owner John Harney began a one-man company to import and blend teas for commercial customers. Today, he has 20 employees and ships more than 175,000 pounds of tea to nearly 1,500 stores, restaurants, and hotels around the world. The cozy tea-tasting room was crammed with everything from tea thermometers to a book on reading tea leaves written by John.

As in an apothecary shop, there were numerous shelves lined with tea tins for sniffing, blending, and tasting. John suggested a flavored black tea with the sweet-sounding name, Bourbon Vanilla.

In his 60s and white-haired, John Harney has a twinkle in his eye and the laugh of a much younger man. Obviously someone who loves what he does, he puttered around getting my tasting cup ready and telling me about tea.

The Chinese and Japanese drink green teas, which are steamed to keep the original green color. Americans and Europeans are more familiar with black teas such as English Breakfast and Darjeeling.

''To make a 'perfect' cup of black tea,'' he said, ''boil water to 212 degrees, use a teaspoon of tea, and let the cup steep for five minutes. Green teas are more sensitive, so use less-than-boiling water and steep for only three minutes.

''Now try this,'' he said, passing me my properly heated and steeped tea. ''Close your eyes,'' he prompted, ''smell that aroma . . . let it get deep inside you. Now you're in India . . . maybe China . . ..'' I could still taste the robust tea as I headed out of Lakeville, then took Route 112 east to the north-south Route 7.

Known for its scenic beauty as it follows the Housatonic River, Route 7 is also famous for the covered bridge at West Cornwall.

Settled in a little ravine, the bridge was built in 1864 and is one of only two in the area (the other is at Bulls Bridge).

Walking through the bridge, I admired the rough-hewed beams and the dark, cool interior. As the river rushed by below, I watched light streaks sneaking in through the old wall planks.

A little farther down Route 7, I pulled over at a long wooden building with canoes and kayaks out front. Jennifer and Mark Clarke own and operate Wild and Woolly Clarke Outdoors, the area's major shop for canoeing, kayaking, and rafting the Housatonic. Each year they handle about 10,000 people, who run the river either on guided tours or on their own. Mark, a six-time national open canoe champion, is lean, sun-tanned, thirtysomething, and focuses on kayak instruction. ''I love kayaks,'' he said. ''They're the Lamborghinis of the river -- high-performance vehicles that can turn on a dime and negotiate the toughest parts of the river.'' Mark explained that the Housatonic's flow is controlled by the powerplant and dam up at Falls Village, so running it can be done nearly all year, and the rapids are easy (Class I or II out of VI). Everyone is dropped off at Falls Village and gets to travel 10 miles downstream before being picked up at the picnic area at Housatonic Meadows State Park.

When he learned I didn't have time to run the river, he asked if I had seen the Great Falls, a few miles back. Because there were no signs, I had missed it. ''You gotta see 'em,'' he insisted.

With detailed instructions, I went back. Those falls were definitely worth the 15-minute drive. The wide dam sent the water over its top in a silvery sheet that crashed onto stair-stepped rocks, creating little pools and backwaters before roaring down 200 feet to form the flatwater of the Housatonic.

By the time the Housatonic River and I reached New Milford, about 30 miles farther south on Route 7, the water that had rumbled along as falls and rapids had mellowed into the nearly currentless Lake Lillinonah. Tucked away on the edge of town, far from the tourist shops of Main Street, I found the Black Duck Boat Shop, where visitors can rent canoes, kayaks, rowing boats, and electric launches to be take out on guided tours or on their own.

Black Duck was founded in 1996 by Don Metz, master boat builder, and Jack Russell, an artist and executive director of a school for fine craftsmanship, Brookfield Craft Center. Specializing in custom-made human- and electric-powered small boats, the company offers everything from classic wooden canoes to modern kayaks, sliding-seat rowing skiffs, to early 1900s-styled electric launches. Dealer for numerous lines, Black Duck also builds boats.

Don, who taught himself, builds everything from canoes to fantail launches, as well as restores and repairs older vessels.

''I don't own a boat,'' he said. ''I keep building ones that I say will be mine, but then people come along and buy them.'' He smiled but didn't look up as he carefully painted glue onto a long narrow plank. Putting the glue pot down, he began affixing the plank to the ribs of the boat. His hands moved quickly and efficiently, but I noticed his fingers were gentle and loving as they glided along the smooth, unfinished plank. In the crowded and jumbled work space, Don and Jack took the time to explain the various boats for sale, under construction, or being restored. In their every word and gesture I could tell they loved what they were doing.

That seemed to be a reccurring theme throughout my three days exploring the Litchfield Hills. As I wandered the scenic countryside, I kept meeting people who were committed to doing what they loved, and finding great joy in the doing.

And through their eyes -- the eyes of people such as a tea blender, a kayaker, and a boat builder -- my road trip around the Litchfield Hills became truly memorable.

Published 05/03/98 in the Boston Suday Globe's Travel Section.