Little Known Jawns Part 1: Kitty’s Trails at the Cape May Airport
“Kitty’s Trails” are a series of winding paths through two adjacent parcels of woods, bisected by Ranger Road, within the Cape May Airport property. If you don’t know Ranger Road, I can’t blame you, I had to look it up while writing this piece. If you’ve driven into the airport on Hornet Road (the road to the Cape May Brewing Company), and know the small traffic circle, Ranger Road is the one that runs due west from the circle, and terminates at W Road, which also borders the small woods that house the trails.
I first stumbled upon these trails years ago when doing the Christmas Bird Count and was immediately captivated by the strange menagerie of ornaments that had been placed in, on, and around the trails and trees. Aside from the slight Blair Witch vibes, what struck me most was how the trails were meticulously created and maintained, apparently carved out of the forest floor, carefully bordered with dead branches, and swept clean of fallen leaves. Somebody cared about this place. The trails are meandering, with side loops and bifurcations that force you to constantly decide on which way you’ll go. This is accentuated by the fact that the woods parcels are so small, so while there’s no fear of becoming lost, there is a feeling of being in a world that is much larger than the postage stamp of forest.
I wondered about the origin of the trails at the time, but it wasn’t until years later, with my office now located a mere hundred yards from the woods, that I encountered the gentleman who claimed responsibility for the trails. He was walking a small dog and said that he created the trails for his granddaughter, who I can only assume is Kitty, and for people to walk their dogs. He eyed me and my coworkers suspiciously at first, thinking maybe we had stumbled over from the brewery. Apparently, that had been happening lately, according to him, and he wasn’t very happy about it. As we left him, he mumbled something about people needing to respect the trails. That encounter was back in 2020 and I haven’t seen him since, though the trails continue to be augmented and adorned, by whom I don’t know for certain.
On a recent visit this past winter my oldest child, Corinna, and I took a walk through both parcels: the main set of trails to the north of Ranger Road, demarcated by the cement barricade with black spray paint that reads “No Bicycles Please,” and what I consider to be the wilder secondary trails to the south. That one has no clear entrance, but a small trail that enters the woods with characteristic dead branch borders.
Due to the nature of the trails, I found myself focusing on the ground as I tried to keep up with the twists and turns until suddenly out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of something out of place. I glanced up to see a purple painted whelk shell hanging off the end of a broken tree branch about 15 feet above me. “How did that even get there?” I wondered when another flash of color came into focus through the woods. We made our way around a loop to get a closer look and identified it as a wooden clown fish ornament, orange with black-bordered white stripes, hanging on a small twig emerging from the tree trunk. It was clear that this would be no ordinary walk in the woods. There is a deliberate intention here to catch visitors off guard; to make you want to search for the next unexpected item.
Does it make sense? Is there a pattern? Until now I can’t say I’ve determined any. To me these trails are a choose-your-own-adventure experience, where you can be an observer, a creator, a participant, or any combination thereof. As we made our way to the southern parcel we initially found less of the human manipulations, save for a butterfly ornament sticking out of a tree branch, or a large reflective construction marker in what appears to be the middle of the woods. Corinna turned to me and asked, “Do you think the old guy put that there?” to which I responded, “No, I don’t think it fits with the Kitty’s Trails original motif.” Which of course speaks to the nature of this site.
Whoever started building these trails has no ownership of the property, which belongs to the county. Since the trails themselves have created more access, it’s clear that more people have been attracted to the site and have been contributing their own bits and pieces. There are some ground rules, of course (no bicycles please), but even those are merely suggestions by someone without the authority to enforce them. Continuing our walk, we gradually noticed tiny bits of color peeking out of layers of leaves. As we cleared them, we uncovered various villages of children’s toy figurines: action figures spanning generations (Micky Mouse, Wonder Woman, Bert and Ernie from Sesame Street) all set up in ways one would expect of a child engrossed in play, and many of them partially grown over by moss and wood. We found fairy houses embedded in tree stumps, and even a bale of hay set between two frog statues and could just imagine one or more kids sitting on the hay playing teatime with their woodland friends.
As we made our way toward the edge of the woods near where we had parked, I wondered whether the trails were just covered in leaves because of the season (it was still winter), and if the old man was still planning to tend to the trails come spring. I cleared a bit of it with my foot to show Corinna how clean the trail was typically, and because of the years of maintenance, the leaves quickly moved off the smooth sandy ground. I entertained the idea of returning in the spring, and if the leaves hadn’t been cleared, making a point to clear a section myself. I’d also keep an eye out for the old man and, if I saw him, would make sure I ask him the full story behind Kitty’s Trails.
Until then, though, there’s plenty of imagination to go around in these woods and the full story isn’t necessary for enjoying the moment. Just be sure to explore with respect, and no bicycles please.
