Three decades ago, when I was a wee lad trying to ride my tricycle down the stairs (true story), my family and I spent a year living in Marblehead: a little town nestled into the North Shore of Massachusetts, where the trees meet the sea in a rather dreamy way. One of our favorite local destinations was a wooded trail from the local high school to the water that we referred to as “The Bunny Path.” I’m not quite sure why. Maybe we saw a memorable bunny scampering through the woods on our first hike. Perhaps my scampering along the path brought to mind a bunny. Whatever the case, we logged countless hours on The Bunny Path. Following its contours through the forest to an ocean overlook became as natural for us as going to the post office.
Ideally, any city and town should have at least one trail that holds this kind of potential for residents and visitors alike—a trail that connects a busy area to scenic gems that are nestled throughout town. These are the trails that you revisit way too many times to count: like the episode of The Office in which Dwight almost burns down the office after starting a real fire to raise the stakes of a fire drill he’s conducting. And this year, purely by accident, I happened upon another coastal trail which speaks to a genre of trail that scratches this itch for any municipality. A trail that takes you through mossy wetlands, old growth forests, athletic fields, vast salt marshes, sandy beaches, and and at one point, by the ordering window of an ice cream and fried seafood shack.
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