I love my bike.
And I love how it feels to ride on a long, flat trail through the woods or swampland, next to a river, or along the ocean. This is why I am grateful for the all the Rails to Trails throughout the United States.
Benjamin and I have planned most of our vacations and much of our free time around biking. We’ve pedaled on trails in: Door County Wisconsin, on the border between Illinois and Kentucky, in Georgia, Florida, North Carolina, Maryland, Virginia, New Hampshire, Rhode Island, DC, Potsdam (Germany), New York, and now on the Cape Cod Rail to Trail (CCRT) in Massachusetts.
Wow! What a beautiful trail!
We began in the little village of Brewster, jumping on from Nickerson State Park. There were chipmunks, squirrels, blue jays, cardinals, mockingbirds, and bees! There was a frog on the trail trying to get the most of the autumn sun and a skunk letting us know he was there in his signature way before scurrying into the bushes. The maples were turning yellow, the sumac bursted with red, scrub oaks were tinted orange, and the pine trees smelled refreshing. I love the soft crunch of tires over pine needles, how the fall light flickers through the trees, how our jackets end up smelling like wind, and how it is quiet, quiet, quiet in the woods.
Each trail has its own highlights, and for the CCRT, it was the cranberry bogs and the breathtaking salt marshes.
I wasn’t exactly sure how cranberries were harvested, other than being scooped up out of water by hand. Apparently, there are a couple of different methods of getting these berries to table. There’s the wet method, where the fields are flooded the night before the harvest, then churned with a water reel, to loosen the berries from the vines, before finally being scooped up by hand. Also, there’s the dry method, where harvesters use what’s called a ‘walk-behind machine’ to shake them off the vines, and then they use a burlap bag to collect the fruit.
Years ago, when I first visited the Cape, my friend and I actually scooped some berries up from a wet bog, and we asked the B&B owner to put them in our muffins for breakfast. She did, and they were delicious! Technically, we were stealing, so I extend an apology to the farmer. I am truly sorry. This time, I rode my bike past the bogs and admired them from afar.
While the cranberry bogs were unique to view, it was the salt marshes on this trail that resonated with both of us. Before this trip, I was again complaining to Benjamin about how much I needed more horizon. In Wisconsin, I had open fields of wildflowers and fresh water marshes where red wing black birds had my heart beating evenly. In Florida, there were sunsets over the Gulf of Mexico that calmed me with flocks of pelicans zooming over the wave line. A long, flat, colorful horizon is a part of who I am. The Hudson River Valley is pretty, and I love being nestled here in the trees, but it is a valley, surrounded by the Palisades, near a big, congested city, and it’s left me feeling a bit boxed in. The loud people constantly talking and interrupting each other here were also beginning to get under my skin.
So when we biked to our first marsh along the trail, I stopped and took a deep breath.
Tall grass…small rocks…water running over a creek leading out to Wellfleet Bay and the Atlantic…open space and sky…lovely, lovely, beautiful! The trees that bordered part of the marsh were off in the distance and turning for Fall. The green reeds contrasted vibrant with the reds, oranges, and yellows of the trees. In places with four seasons, I feel like autumn colors are a chorus, and they sing loudly, right before they exit. It is a little sad to know they are “leaving” (oh so punny), but they do it with style.
This ride encouraged me to learn more about cranberries, and it taught me more about the importance of the salt marshes.
Biking is moving that doesn’t hurt my hip. I can get somewhere on my own. This is a powerful, independent feeling. I am grateful that long, flat trails exist in this country. I love you CCRT, and I love you, my Fuji Addy bike!
