First Day Hike - Mid January Version

Way back in 2021, a group of us headed out in the the New Jersey Pinelands, scouting out a potential route for a First Day Hike.

Well the first day came, Patty and I were in Florida, and back in New Jersey the weather was craptastical, so the hike was postponed. 

Until January 23rd. A cold but otherwise gorgeous day.

Which meant Patty and I could join in on the fun! Woo Hoo!

Our fearless, mostly, leader Terry, and her brother from another mother (and father) Tom.

We wandered down old sand road. Where by old it means from the 1940s. Older than all us hikers.

At which point we turned down another sand road, provenance unknown. Spoiler alert: it's sand roads all the way around.

Except for this bit. The sand road was bisected by this watercourse. The logs in the background a bridge we, where we were mainly Joe, a retired carpenter who helps maintain the Batona Trail these days, 'built' to cross.

Only five of us were brave enough to cross. Our previously fearless leader was not one of the five.

And off we went down a sand road covered with pine needles.

Along the way we spotted the remnants of a number of Earthstars. A type of fungi.

Patty likes Earthstars. (So do I.)

Eventually we made it to the beach, one of many such along the Wading River.

Not your typical beach attire. That's Joe, of bridge building fame, on the left.

A picturesque tree. On a warmer day a spot to sit and dangle one's toes in the stream.

Picturesque in the other direction as well. On weekends in the summer it would be crowded with kayakers. Some of us hikers, myself included, have been a part of the crowd.

On the way back we passed by what remains of the original Evans Bridge. A bridge Joe had no hand in the construction of. At least as far as I know he didn't.  

We exited the woods just south of the aforementioned Batona Trail. Joe may have had a hand in the construction and-or maintenance of these bridges. 

We then headed back to the cars for a bit of refreshments, shrimp, a variety of cheeses and meats, yummy lemon bars, chips and dip, among other stuffs. And took turns sitting on Terry's accordion chair.

Image courtesy Terry Schmidt

A good time was had by all.

Mt Washington - Part 2

In the Mt Washington - Part 1 post I mentioned that both the Cog Railway and the Mt Washington Observatory would play a big role in our White Mountains adventure.

Our plan was to hike up the Valley Way Trail, taking the AMC shuttle bus from the Highland Center Lodge to the trailhead in the morning. We'd spend the night at the Madison Spring Hut and cross over to Mt Washington the next day. And we'd spend the night at the Lakes of the Clouds Hut. And then make our way back down to the Highlands Center Lodge.

As they say about the best laid plans ...

The weather forecast for our hike up called for torrential downpours. Highly non-optimal. The next day called for thunderstorms. Quite undesirable for a stroll above the tree line. What to do?

It was Patty who figured it out. Take the Cog Railway up! But how to get there? The shuttle bus! The bus does not go to the Cog Railway. But it does go to a nearby trailhead. Where nearby was less than a mile. Problem solved. We canceled our stay at the Madison Hut, booked another night at the Highlands Lodge, and enjoyed a day of local hiking and relaxing at the lodge.

On our walk up to the railway station we passed the original coal powered engine, Peppersass. It is occasionally fired up for a ride to the top.

Our train had a biodiesel engine. Much more efficient and environmentally friendly.

It was popular. Three trains, all filled up. With hourly departures. We arrived early enough to take the 10 o'clock train, despite having tickets for the 11 am trip. We got the last two seats.

Our seats were separated, Patty in the front row, me in the second. Which meant we could hear the conductor as he narrated the journey, mixing history with what was happening. Here we are approaching a switch for passing lanes. In the distance is a water tower. The coal engines would need to stop and refill there. The new engines just roll on by.

I mentioned in the Part I post that the average temperature at the top was 35° F. The conductor told us this, and that the record high was 72° F. As we headed up it was already 66° F. Alas, a new record was not set.

Our friend Liz sent this picture from when she rode the train to the top, not quite as warm that day.

Image courtesy Liz Schaefer.

The ticket is a round trip, but we planned to spend the night and walk down.

Bye bye train!

The "white splotch" just right of center is train station from where we started. And while warm, you can see it is still cloudy.

The building in the distance is where we are headed, our home for the night. And yep, shorts and t-shirt weather.

Our path to the Lakes of the Clouds Hut. A bit on the rocky side.

The night at the lodge was a warm one. I slept in the bunk closest to the window, and the window was open all night. And I slept in shorts and a t-shirt. Outside my sleeping bag most of the night.

The next morning was a clear day! Woo hoo! That's Mt Washington in the background. It was a very nice, albeit quite humid, hike back to the Highlands Center. But that's a story for another time.

Walking

Among the perks of working from home is that I can go walking at lunch time. 

And of course I have my phone, which is also a camera.

I've mentioned before that we live directly across from Budds Bogs, a cranberry farm. And cranberry farms need water.

I like the cloud reflection framed by the water control structure.

This old structure has the feel of a rainforest, helped no doubt by the spiky plant in the lower right.

🚶🏼‍♂️  🚶🏼‍♂️  🚶🏼‍♂️  🚶🏼‍♂️  🚶🏼‍♂️

Being able to wander about in the time of the plague has been wonderful for my sanity. I can't imagine what it is like living in an apartment in an a city (ok I can, but only because I've colleagues who do so).

I hope you too have found a way to deal with this.

First Day Hike, Thanksgiving Edition

One of our friends Terry coordinates a First Day Hike every non-pandemic lockdown year. 

And this year is no different. 

Terry takes this responsibility seriously, despite what the image may convey.

So a couple of days after Thanksgiving we were wandering down muddy dirt roads in the Pines. Checking out a potential walking tour.

Looking at the occasional bird.

We wandered about a very picturesque area.

Once upon a time populated, now part of NJ's State Forest system.

And that's a good thing.

Some of the land is still privately owned, the bit on the other side of the dirt road by the Nature Conservancy. And to the that to the right of this image on this side by a cranberry farmer.

It was a very nice day for a ramble. And while we're not out of the woods yet (pun!), if we're smart about it we can return to normal-ish life.

But in the end, Terry decided that this was just a bit to remote for a First Day Hike. 

So she'll be leading a walk somewhere else on January 1st. 

And I hope you all find a First Day Hike to start your new year.

Meet The Neighbors

I woke up Sunday morning, had a cup of coffee and a bite to eat, and then decided to go for a walk. It was a bit chilly, in the thirties, but no wind. Perfect.

And I was not the only one who thought so.

I heard* them before I saw them, as I approached the road down our back driveway.

These birds:

Helmeted Guineafowl. A species native to Africa, but one that can be found on farms throughout the US, including now the horse farm next to our place.

Which is fine by me, as they are known for consuming ticks. Lots of ticks. I hope they visit our yard, plenty of yummy ticks here!

Why did the Guineafowl cross the road?

To bask in the morning sunlight of course.

~~~~~~~~~~

* They are known as good "watch birds" and will make quite a racket when something is amiss. Like a stranger approaching, or a fox in the yard. And they seemed both alarmed and curious about me as I headed toward them.

Hood Ornament

On my walk to the Thompson-Wright Preserve I came across this:

And I've nothing more to say.

Thompson-Wright Revisted

I noted in the Thompson-Wright post that that visit would not be my last. And true to my word I visited again this past Saturday, this time to just to explore. And Patty came with me.    

I walked from my house to the Preserve, and while I was waiting for Patty to join me I noticed this sign. Specifically I noticed the nails. Either this is very hard wood, a weak hammerer, or there is play left for the tree to grow out. I suppose I'll need to check back in a few years to find out.

The sign was on a sand road leading into the western side of the Preserve.

But today we explored the eastern side. Note the clear blue skies.

Not sure what this strap/belt is for, but it has been there for some time.

My old Kentucky home .. it looked as if the color had been sprayed on.

We've noticed this pattern in oak leaves before while wandering in the Pines.

Patty drew a connection to the fungal pattern. Coincidence?

Clouds are rolling in ...

Piney engineering.

The roads are surprisingly well maintained. Perhaps because of off road vehicle use? We heard, but did not see, said vehicles during our explorations.

A road not taken, at least not by us. It may connect up with South Firelane Road. 

It was obvious that maintenance had been done on the roads/trails. It was also obvious that it had be awhile since it was done.

Not clear if this was 'maintenance', accidental damage, or the work of some critter.

Along the northern edge of the Preserve is a deep ditch. The bridge built by the Piney engineers spans it, and the Road not Taken traverses it. And the above image is of an old water control station that connects the ditch to the Burrs Mill Creek, the water flowing under the sand road. I wonder the last time anyone used it tp actually control the flow (it was wide open when we passed).

The end of the road (and thickening clouds).

Or at least a gap, the road bisected by the Burrs Mill Creek.

The view from the other side. An approximately mile and a half detour.

The Creek the road I live on is named for.

A nice way to spend a morning. And I doubt this will be our last visit.