Cherry Beach

The Ride

Cherry Beach is primarily a connector trail. It links Tommy Thompson Park to the east with the Martin Goodman Trail to the west, and that's its practical purpose – the trail that gets you between two bigger experiences. I want to be honest about that upfront because it's the right framing. But practical purpose and actual experience are different things, and the experience of riding Cherry Beach is quieter, stranger, and more rewarding than its connector-trail status suggests.

The trail itself is flat, paved, and easy, accessible to any rider on any bike. It follows the waterfront through the Port Lands, a part of the city that feels transitional and slightly apart from the rest of Toronto. It's a tranquil little trail. Even on a busy summer weekend, the trail itself stays relatively calm while the beach fills up a short distance away.

Side trails branch off the main paved path, narrow and sometimes overgrown, flowing in and out. They're worth exploring if you're on a hybrid, though they can be tight. There's a particular pleasure in a trail with options: you can ride the clean paved line, or you can duck into the dirt and find something wilder just a few metres off the main path.

Along the trail, if you peer through the trees at the right moments, you get glimpses of the lake, and beyond the lake, the faint outline of Tommy Thompson Park reaching out into the water. These are teasers. A glimpse does something a full view doesn't: it creates anticipation rather than satisfaction. And you want to keep riding toward it. That pull is part of what makes Cherry Beach work as a connector. It doesn't just link two places. It builds toward one of them.

Ride it fast and Cherry Beach is a pleasant connector. Ride it slow, and it's something quieter and more interesting.

Look Closer

The sumacs. They grow in clusters along the trail, their compound leaves fanning outward, and in late summer and autumn the dense seed heads turn a deep, saturated red, close enough to touch as you ride past, catching the light against the sky. Little rubies in the sky. Not rare or exotic, sumacs are everywhere in Ontario, common enough to be invisible most of the time. But along this trail, they grow close to the path in dense clusters, and they're beautiful.

The grape vines. Wild, unpruned, climbing grape vines growing over the trees along the path, draping the canopy in unexpected green. They give the trail a slightly surreal feeling, that the vegetation is doing what it wants. Where most urban trails feel maintained, this one feels tolerated. The vines have been here longer than the path, and they'll be here after it. They make the trail feel older and wilder than it is.

The rabbits. Eastern cottontails in the bushes, pausing on the path with their ears up, retreating into the underbrush when you get close. There's a particular pleasure in unexpected wildlife on a short urban trail – the way an animal holds still for a moment as though deciding whether you're interesting, and then decides you're not. It happens quickly.

On the right summer day with decent wind, the water off Cherry Beach comes alive with wind surfers and kite boarders. Wind surfers cutting low across the surface, kite boarders lifting briefly off the water with their sails bright against the sky. The quiet trail suddenly has this spectacular thing happening by the water, surfers flying through the air, and you're pedalling, everybody's having a good day.

In summer, the beach end of the trail carries the ambient warmth of barbecues and picnics. Smoke in the air, the sound of groups gathered on the grass, the smell of food drifting through. Not intrusive. The trail runs close enough to the beach that you move through this atmosphere without being inside it. You don't notice it directly, but it changes the mood.

There's a lot of beauty in this ride aside from Cherry Beach itself, if you know where to look. That's the trail's whole invitation. Say hello to the rabbits, the nettles, and the rest of the life along the trail. They've been here the whole time.

The Best Way to Ride It

The trail's honest limitation: 5 kilometres is short. As a standalone destination, it's a quick ride that leaves you wanting more. Pleasant, but over before it builds to anything. As a connector, it's exactly the right length. A quiet middle section between two bigger experiences, long enough to have its own character, short enough to leave you ready for what comes next.

The natural loop: start at the Martin Goodman Trail, ride east through Cherry Beach, continue to Tommy Thompson Park, ride the full spit to the lighthouse, turn around, come back through Cherry Beach to the Martin Goodman. That's a full afternoon of waterfront riding with three distinct trail characters: the busy urban energy of the Martin Goodman, the liveliness of Cherry Beach, and the open wilderness of Tommy Thompson. Each one makes the others feel more distinct by contrast.

Riding it in the other direction, starting at Tommy Thompson heading west, means Cherry Beach functions as a decompression zone after the spit. You've had the big experience. You've been to the lighthouse and back. Cherry Beach is the quiet ride home, the trail that lets you settle back into the city gradually rather than all at once. The sumacs and the rabbits are gentler company after the spit.