Shell Beach has re-opened after road repairs (as much as you can repair a dirt road), hallejah! Shell Beach, where many an Island teen couple has done unbelievable things in cars. Ahhhhh, the men, the memories, if only I had that flexibility now... I could be in Cirque de Soleis!
Shell Beach has an unmarked hidden access road that only locals and summer people know. Knowing the secret entrance is like knowing how to get into the Bat Cave.
"You go down here and turn between the maple trees."
"Yea, but Alice, the whole street has maple trees, how do you know where to turn?"
"I know. Like a blind person knows their kitchen, I just know..."
"Ah, you're relying on Divine Intervention."
"No, Divine Direction. It practically takes an Act of God to find the road."
For as long as I can remember, the road was half the fun of going to Shell Beach. The huge dips and hills were a stress test for the shocks on any car. It's actually the only spot on Long Island where a Hummer or Land Rover is warranted as a vehicle of choice. It was especially challenging after a rain. How deep was the puddle? Up to the rims? Up to the car handle? You never knew. Slamming up and down in the car with the seat belt cutting into your neck and hot coffee flying. What fun.
It was always interesting and often educational to search for an unoccupied spot along the road. The road is flanked with little pockets of half hidden mini-beaches that are often clothes optional. I tried sun bathing au natural once, but an Island guy in a truck pulled up and threw a big tarp over me. It wouldn't have been that insulting except for him driving the tent pegs in all around me to hold the tarp down. Sun bathing is terribly over rated. Sand gets in places you didn't know you had and didn't especially want to discover. When I was fifteen, I saw my first nude men there. They didn't look anything like my younger brothers. They required hours of study, assisted by a few of my school friends. Thinking back, I can't believe they didn't hear a gaggle of giggling girls hiding in the beach grass.
At the end of the road is Shell Beach with a 360 degree view of the water. My favorite days are when Mom and I grab some big delicious sandwiches and drinks from Fedi's and go sit on that beach chatting away - but carefully. Sound carries in strange ways there and you often hear entire conversations taking place. It's involuntary eavesdropping.
On graduation night, the Seniors go to Shell Beach and the local police just put a car at the end of the road so that no one can enter or exit without them knowing and no booze can get on the beach. That's why we had to go there the day before and bury all the beer in the sand ahead of time....the only problem would be most of the cops are locals and they know that trick. In which case, it's best to bury the beer two or three days ahead of the planned inebriation.
The beach is good for wading, but not swimming. There's no lifeguard. Strong currents swirl around the little Island peninsula and you can be on your way inbound to Coecles Harbor or outbound to Montauk or Orient Point in just a few minutes. But if you have some company you'd like to be rid of, it's a good place to tell them to swim. When my children we young and irritating, especially when my daughter was in the brat stage, from age 8 to 21, I took her there to swim many times. But she's always been such a good swimmer, she always made it back to the beach.
It will be strange now, driving on the road without risking overturning the car. I'm not sure if it will still be popular as a lovers lane. With the advent of cell phones that can take and email pictures to other people or straight to the internet, illicit romance just won't be as fun as it used to be. There's nothing that will kill the mood like sixty people showing up and peering in the windows of the car. I just hate it when that happens...
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