By
Kay Semion
Even on the coldest mornings (by Florida’s gauge – 50-some degrees with achilled 9 mph northwest gale), The Loop’s essence amazes.
Along the marshes, the waters are still and steel-hued. The oak canopies drip with Spanish moss against a cloudless, stark sky. The saw palmetto line theroad and provide protection for wildlife (which you frequently hearrustling through the brush and occasionally see – including deer). Heronand egret hunt for mid-morning snacks.
So it was on Sunday, Feb. 7, on my weekly ride of The Loop, a trail north or Ormond Beach, FL., popular with bicyclists, motorcyclists and runners. The Loop is not a bicycle trail, but motorists are generally respectful of cyclists because there are so many of us. The exceptions to that rule tend to flex their rude muscles during certain big tourism events – fueled by alcohol before hitting the asphalt.
Bike Florida riders will cycle through The Loop during low tourism seasonand can embrace the graces of Old Florida. Much of the area is preserved,so natural scenes have not changed significantly in years, which one can witness at one of the many side attractions – such as the 400-year oldFairchild Oak in Bulow Creek State Park. The actual age of the tree is inquestion (some claims say it’s 2,000 years old) but there’s little doubt that it was around for historic events, like the Second Seminole War in 1836. The age question arises because live oaks don’t produce naturalrings, I’m told, so core sampling gives guesstimates that can be off a fewhundred years.
But I digress – an easy enough thing to do when thinking about all thereis to see while riding The Loop. The 23-mile trip starts on Beach Streetin Ormond Beach, just west of the Granada Avenue bridge, goes north fornine miles to Walter Boardman Road, and then east-ish to Highbridge Road.Boardman is a super treat. You leave the canopies of the oak and pineforests within the Tomoka River basin and head into a marsh – where I oncestopped near an island to observe at least 15 species of Florida water birds, including the great blue heron, the great white, ibis and egrets.
It’s not unusual, either, to see gopher tortoise trudging along theroadside. You’ll also see a lot of fishermen and women – throwing linesoff the bridges, waiting for bites in canoes or kayaks on the TomokaRiver, or just sitting alongside the road on a lawn chair with a lazy linein the water.
On Highbridge, the scenery changes again. Here the road is lined with canary island date palms, which sit on a narrow edge along the Tomoka River marshes. Sometimes, the palms tumble halfway into the water, and it takes months, even years for them to fall all the way. Just east of the Highbridge drawbridge (which bridges the Intracoastal Waterway and isn’t that high by modern standards), riders can turn south along John Anderson Drive or continue east to ride along the Atlantic Ocean on A-1-A. It’s worth it to trek over to the ocean to glimpse not only the soothing waves but also to see the wildflowers growing alongside the road (a Florida goal is to make it a wildflower haven). In the winter, you can sometimes catch a glimpse of a Right Whale frolicking in the waves. To the north and south of Highbridge in this area is the dune scrub ofPeninsula State Park – home of scrub jays, the only bird found nowhere butin Florida.
But it’s also a beautiful trip along John Anderson, which follows theIntracoastal, known as the Halifax River in this area. There you can seethe remnants of old natural forests, basically palmettos, scrub oaks, andpine trees. The first part of the ride is intriguing because you can seelots of older docks in the marsh, causing you to wonder what was there afew years back. It gets a bit trafficky when nearing Ormond Beach bothalong John Anderson and A-1-A, so on weekend rides, I’ll often turn aroundand go back through the Highbridge, Boardman, Beach Street stretch.
Besides, that way, I get to salute the statue of Chief Tomokie in Tomoka State Park. The park , three miles north of Granada Boulevard, is theformer site of Nocorocco, an ancient Timucuan village, and it’s for real. Chief Tomokie is not. He’s a legend, as they say, and it’s not clear whostarted the legend. Anyway, the statue is cheesy by any standards, createdby Fred Dana Marsh in 1955, and it’s falling apart. But it’s one of thoseFlorida strange “you gotta see this” monuments. I love it.
The thing to remember about The Loop is that it’s a whole lot of Florida
wrapped within 23 miles and a great bicycle ride.