A Road That Opens to the Sea

There is a bike ride I take a few times each season, and I always look forward to it.

It starts at Herring Point in Cape Henlopen State Park. The air feels different there right away — open, coastal, and lighter than inland. I unload the bike and begin from the parking area near the dunes.

The Gordon’s Pond Trail opened in 2014. I started riding it around that time, and it quickly became one of my favorite places to ride. Over the years, it has been part of many different seasons of life.

We rode it when my son was young. There was a time I brought his elementary school friend along on a cold winter ride after they had come from Vermont for a visit. He is coming to my son’s graduation party next week.

There have been other rides too — taking my brother and his family out from our campsite at Cape Henlopen State Park at night to watch fireworks over Rehoboth Beach. Riding it with friends seeing it for the first time. It has always been an easy place to share.

The trail begins in pine trees. It is narrow at first, with sand under the tires and branches overhead. The space feels quiet and contained in that opening stretch.

Then it opens into marshland. The path runs above water and low grasses. I stop at the raised boardwalk overlook. The marsh is wide and flat, changing slightly with light, weather, and season.

Farther along is the birdwatch tower at Salt Pond. I usually stop there as well. The water is calm most days, with birds moving across it or resting along the edges. From above, the old WWII observation towers used for coastal triangulation are visible in the distance.

There is a pavilion near a beach crossover along the trail. The beach is called Whiskey Beach, named for its Prohibition - era history and later use by soldiers stationed at Fort Miles.

At that point, the ride leaves the park and becomes road.

The change is immediate. The space opens up, and the coastline becomes visible in a different way. Beach houses appear along the road, set back slightly, facing the water.

A bend in the road comes, where the land opens and the ocean appears. I always know it is coming, but it still catches my breath. Each time I see it, it brings a sense of wonder.

From there, the route continues into Rehoboth Beach. The boardwalk begins, and the atmosphere shifts to movement, sound, and activity.

I usually stop for ice cream and sit near the beach for a while before turning back. It is an easy pause at the end of the ride.

The return follows the same route, but it never feels repetitive. Each time I ride it, I move through the same places at a different point in time.

This ride feels connected to that rhythm again this year. A week before my son’s college graduation, it becomes another marker in a long line of returns to the same place at different stages of life.

It is a ride I keep coming back to.

My favorite part is still the moment when the ocean comes into view.

It happens at the same bend in the road, where the land opens and the sea appears. I always know it is coming, but it still catches my breath. Each time I see it, it brings a sense of wonder.

The ride began when my son was starting middle school, and now he is graduating from college. The years have changed, but that moment on the ride has stayed the same.

Each time I reach it, it still feels like something ahead.