Written by Steve Renzi
Route 9 Coastal Heritage Scenic Byway is a Delaware treasure—a scenic, two-lane road that runs along the Delaware River and Bay Estuary offering travelers an intimate interaction with the largest area of preserved coastal marshland on the east coast. In these days of interstates and turnpikes, Route 9 provides a rare glimpse of a simpler time and an opportunity to gear down and savor the state’s pastoral scenery.
If the legendary Route 66 is “America's Main Street,” maybe Route 9 can be called “Delaware's Roadway.” The scenic 52-mile long corridor (from Old New Castle south to the John Dickinson Plantation near Dover) does, in fact, have a new and special designation. Route 9 is now officially a Coastal Heritage Scenic Byway, under DelDOT’s State Scenic & Historic Highway Program.
This opens the door for designation as a National Scenic Byway. DNREC, which designated Route 9 as a Coastal Heritage Greenway in 1992, is among the groups and agencies that worked for four years in partnership to develop the nomination.
Delaware's Coastal Heritage Scenic Byway is a road of rhythm and rhyme. It offers a connection to all that is Delaware; our history, open spaces, fresh and saltwater marshes, small towns and large farms, rivers and guts, lighthouses and dark skies, historic mansions and migrant shacks, water birds and watermen.
The Faces
Traveling on Route 9 is a way of connecting with our coastal heritage. And there is no better way to do this than by riding a bike. Bicycles are the best means of transportation for nature lovers. You don’t pollute the environment and you are close to the earth – just a couple of feet above terra firma.
My riding partner is Metta Barbour, former executive director of Delaware Greenways, who now serves as executive director of the Coalition for Smart Growth in Lancaster County, PA.
We begin our ride in New Castle - heading south on Route 9. We have beautiful places to go, and colorful people to see. Whatever happens, happens.
Metta and I meet at 7 am under the cupola of the historic New Castle County Courthouse, the same courthouse in which the footsteps of Caesar Rodney and John Dickinson once echoed. Today, across the street, a woman in a blue bathrobe and slippers opens the front door of her colonial-era home, walks down the old stone steps and picks up the morning paper. The sky is overcast and gray. There is a slight chill in the morning air. It is a perfect day for riding.
Route 9 parallels the outskirts of town. As we pedal, we pass row houses and abandoned factory sites made of red brick - a monument to New Castle's working class and manufacturing heritage.
Metta and I roll along at a leisurely pace. We pass the huge Valero Energy Corporation's Delaware City Refinery, located on 5,000 acres and employing nearly 600 employees. On the road, trucks roar by. Behind the metal fence defining the perimeter grounds, we see steam billowing from two gleaming white stacks and thick silver pipes. Here, the pungent, yet pleasant, marsh smells are replaced by oil refinery smells.
Moving on, there is now less traffic and the sun pokes through the grey skies revealing patches of blue as Metta and I reach Delaware City. At the end of Clinton Street, a seafood restaurant offers al fresco dining on a patio overlooking the Delaware River and a small park. Nearby, elderly men sit on park benches and watch ships pass and some teenagers lean over the rails to fish.
Just then, the Delafort pushes off from the nearby Fort Delaware State Park dock, carrying visitors to the Civil War prison camp on Pea Patch Island. The ferry also takes visitors to the largest heron rookery on the east coast north of Florida on Pea Patch Island. The heronry is the current nesting area for about 7,000 pairs of herons, egrets and ibises. This is down from its peak of 12,000 nesting pairs in the early 1990s. Studies are being done by DNREC’s Division of Soil and Water Conservation to find out why the numbers are declining.
Just beyond Delaware City is one of the most recent additions to DNREC’s parks system: Fort DuPont State Park. Like Fort Delaware, it was built for coastal and river defense and used as a military base. During World War II, it housed German prisoners of war. Being at the park brought to mind my family connection to the sprawling former military complex. My grandfather helped run the gas station on the base in those days. One of his helpers was a young German soldier who painted a small landscape picture for my mother, then a teenager. It still hangs on her living room wall.
Metta and I enjoy the solitude of the park’s shoreline while a lesson in the value of an intact coastal marshland plays out in front of us. As the wind blows, the force of the river waves seem magnified as they hit the concrete with a resounding slap. Where there is marsh grass, the force of the water is absorbed with a whooshing sound, as the grasses bob and weave.
Reedy Point Bridge crosses the Chesapeake and Delaware Canal. Biking is permitted but we decide to walk our bikes across. The view is spectacular. To the north: Delaware City, Valero and beyond. To the east: ships in the Delaware River, trees, houses and the Salem Nuclear Tower on the Jersey coast. To the south and west: rays of light shimmer off the silver and blue waters of the Thousand Acre Marsh and the Augustine Wildlife Area. Below us, a pleasure craft, glides through the canal creating a v-shaped wave.
Once we get off the bridge, the coastal road is flat and low. Easy biking. Time to get up close and personal with the marsh. A family of turtles sun themselves on a log. Five snowy egrets perch on the branches of a tree snag.
On the side of the road, several people have pulled their cars over to fish and crab. Clarence Flamor has driven down from Wilmington with his son, Clarence Jr., and his granddaughter Measia. He fishes and the kids go crabbing with chicken necks tied to a string and a hand-held net. So far the day has been very successful, judging from the squirming blue crabs in the bucket.
In Port Penn, two miles to the south, Metta and I meet up with waterman and storyteller Clyde Roberts. As a waterman, he is tied to the rhythms and seasons of the marsh. Since the days of the Depression, Roberts has lived and worked in the wetlands, hunting, trapping for muskrat, progging for snapping turtles and fishing for shad and sturgeon.
"I remember when Route 9 was a dirt road," he says. "I remember men living in cabins in the marsh and trapping for muskrat. They worked for a Mrs. Fox - the ‘muskrat queen of Delaware.’ She was a rough woman who would check the trappers to make sure they weren't trying to sneak out any extra muskrat furs in their boots."
Roberts is a youthful 80-year-old but says this will be his last year as a commercial fisherman. "The fishing nets used to be made of cotton and the women would knit and repair the nets during the wintertime. Out on the water, the nets were hauled in hand-over-hand. It was hard work, especially when the wind was blowing against you."
As for fishing these days, he offers this advice: “You've got to fish the tides. Usually you have a one-hour window to catch the turn of the tide. Shad swim near the surface, so I set a floating gill net. For sturgeon, I use an anchor gill net that sinks to the bottom.”
Not far away, DNREC’s Port Penn Interpretive Center showcases the unique way of life of the men and women who lived in and off these wetlands.
Route 9 makes turns sharply in Port Penn. On one side is a bait and tackle shop. There’s a blue sign with white letters in the front window advertising “Bunker, Peelers and Worms.” Gail King, who only recently opened the business, tells us she has been a commercial fisherman for years. She and her husband also run river and scenic cruises. "In the summer, we go after blue crabs, which we sell to local restaurants. After the crab season is over, we catch oysters and eels," says King.
Metta and I reward our mileage with lunch at Kelly's seafood restaurant, right across the street, the place to go for crab cakes and beer. Back on our bikes, we head for the red and white-washed brick Augustine Inn, a local landmark since the 1790s. It is across Route 9 from Augustine Beach, a popular fishing and boat-launching area.
Many years ago, the steamships that traveled up and down the Delaware River would dock here and passengers would disembark for food and lodging at the inn. Today, the Augustine Inn is a popular watering hole for motorcyclists.
Harry Pressell, who has tended bar there for 26 years, is one of Route 9’s true characters. Sitting on a bar stool next to him is a black dog named Tippy. A white dog named Polliwog wanders around. And Moe, a large tom cat, lies on the pool table.
From the wall behind the bar, the head of a 2,000 pound bull wearing a patch over his left eye watches over patrons. "I put the patch over his eye because I got tired of him staring over my shoulder," Harry explains.
As for traveling down route 9, Pressell has this advice: "Route 9 is a forgiving road - but watch out for water on the roadway. And where else can you go around a corner and nearly run into a 20-pound snapping turtle?"
We begin to pass more pastures, fields and farmhouses – also important aspects of Delaware’s natural heritage. In fact, the largest concentration of preserved farms in Delaware lies along or near Route 9, according to Mike McGrath, chief of planning at the Delaware Department of Agriculture. “Thanks to the Delaware Agricultural Lands Preservation Foundation, we have preserved most of the farms along Route 9 from Dover to Odessa.”
These farms, McGrath says, have a long tradition that encompasses agricultural productivity along with an incredible variety of wildlife, habitats and beautiful views. “Delaware preserves farms for all these benefits," he says.
It isn’t just farmlands being studied and preserved along Route 9. According to the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, almost 40% of the wetlands that were present when Europeans first reached America have been destroyed or reclaimed. The Delaware National Estuarine Research Reserve (DNERR), established in 1993, is a cooperative program between DNREC's Division of Soil and Water Conservation, Delaware Coastal Programs and the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration.
DNERR’s role is to establish, protect and manage estuarine habitats for research and education. Route 9 runs through the Blackbird Creek and Marsh area, which is one of DNERR’s two components. The other is the St. Jones Reserve. Both sites contain brackish and freshwater estuaries.
Metta and I bike past Bombay Hook National Wildlife Refuge, which draws birders from around the world and is a crucial link in the chain of bird migration. Once again, we resist the urge to detour. The day is flying by and we still have miles to go.
We continue pedaling south and are soon in the tiny town of Leipsic. The crab is now king here, but until the mid-1940s the lowly muskrat reigned. Muskrat trapping drove the economy and muskrat pelts were a valuable commodity. The town took its name from Leipzig, Germany, a world-renowned fur trading port.
Sambo's Tavern, named for its late founder Samuel “Sambo” Burrows, is one of Route 9’s main attractions. The no-frills seafood restaurant boasts customers from Iceland to New Zealand and a view of the Leipsic River, crabbing boats and the marsh.
Passing through Cowgill's Corner, an early settlement area of African-Americans, three llamas look up, unimpressed, as our bicycles go whizzing by.
At Lane's Garden Fresh Farm produce stand, just north of Little Creek, we stop to admire the displays of big red tomatoes, corn, okra and squash.
I snap a couple of photos of Jerry and Jeri Lane before we push on to the town of Little Creek, which appears to be one block wide and maybe four or five blocks long. The Old Stone Tavern, which was built in the 1820s but was never a tavern, was a Division of Fish and Wildlife field office until a few years ago. Now it’s a satellite office of the Division of Parks and Recreation.
Our bike journey is nearly complete. Evening is approaching. Route 9 takes us right by the John Dickinson Plantation where we are meeting Robert Ehemann, a Division of Parks and Recreation planner who has volunteered to drive Metta, myself and our bicycles back home.
If you're in a hurry, don't take Route 9. Whether you're on a bike or a motorcycle, or driving a car, this coastal road is one to be savored. Appreciate its twists and turns. Drive the speed limit. Watch out for water on the roadway and slow-moving farm tractors.
Route 9 is taking that Sunday drive any day of the week. It’s like therapy. Take your time, roll down the windows, turn the radio off and enjoy the ride. Better yet, get on your bicycle.
Steve Renzi is a writer and photographer who splits his time between Delaware and Arizona, although Delaware is home. And, Route 9 is “my favorite place on earth.”
Reprinted from Outdoor Delaware, Spring 2007 issue, published by the Delaware Department of Natural Resources and Environmental Control.
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