Paved with Good Intentions

A rustic rail trail, a cryptic sign, and the perils of following a straight line

I’m riding down the Trunkline Trail. My Trek hybrid hobbles over pebbles and roots. The forest is a deep green — it’s September, and the air is cool, but it doesn’t yet feel like fall. The path dips down, out of the woods, and I cross a country road.

And then I stop. The trail continues on the other side, but there’s something in the way. A chain-link fence. The gate hangs slightly open. There’s plenty of room to slip through. But I also see a sign, printed in deadly red letters against a white background: “DANGER: DO NOT ENTER.”

I look around. The road is empty, even of cars. A farmhouse stands nearby, and cows graze in a pasture. But there’s no one to ask. All I have are a few physical clues — and my own finicky judgment.

My first instinct is to go around. “Danger” is danger, no matter how ambiguous. I look at Google Maps, and if I ride a few miles out of my way, I’ll end up at the same intersection.

And yet — I can clearly see a single-track path, sliced into thick grass. My paper map…