Don’t let the name fool you. Forbidden Drive* is a most welcoming place.
My husband and I joined two friends for a bike trip down the drive on Saturday morning, ending at the Manayunk Diner. (Banana walnut pancakes: the perfect fuel for the return trip.)
I didn’t bring my camera, but my memory holds the images that will stay:
* Reaching the top of a ridge, and looking way down at the Wissahickon Creek. Morning mist snaked above the surface, airy white against deep green.
* Passing the Valley Green Inn, seeing small, round, ghostly tables cloaked in white. (I must still have Halloween on the brain.) On our way back, we passed a wedding party there, which made those ghosts more formal than haunting.
* Watching a runner approach in the distance. Back-lit by the sun, her ponytail swished and flashed with each stride.
Forbidden Drive was full of people: walking, running, walking dogs, riding bikes (and one horse). As with my visit to Pennypack Park, I was struck by how easy it was to forget we were still in the city.
Penn’s Woods are alive and well in Philadelphia.
* Factoid: Forbidden Drive used to be known as Upper Wissahickon Drive. The name change came in the 1920s, when wise powers-that-be banned cars from the road.