Pedal, pedal, pedal. We were expecting a gate or some such obstacle. But the trail just meandered on and on. In a while, though, we ran out of trail. The trail had headed east. It was basically loose gravel, a band of mangroves on each side. Gradually the mangroves thinned. The trail ended. We were at the tip of a very narrow finger of land jutting out into Biscayne Bay.
The sky was overcast and gray. The sea matched the sky. The only marks of civilization (other than markers for boat navigation) were too far in the distance to be clearly seen. We were very close to Miami, and yet this place felt tantalizingly remote.
A tiny piece of tranquil wilderness.
We turned around and pedaled back to pavement, traffic, and the rest of city life.
