Chooglin' down to the Warbler Preserve
The things you find in the newspaper these days
Reading the newspaper, and having a subscription to a good one like the Philly Inquirer, has been the best choice I’ve made in a while. It helps that the Inquirer has a good weekly newsletter called Outdoorsy, which led me to the Franklin Parker Preserve. Managed by the NJ Conservation Foundation, there are biking and hiking trails that don’t show up in the apps I use to look for new places to ride and explore. I found crystal blue lakes, and saw lots of birds, including my first Eastern Kingfisher.
Reading the newspaper is an old person thing to do. It slows me down, and makes me wrinkle my eyes at headlines while I decide whether to read them. I don’t get distracted by an ad or a link. I don’t read it cover to cover. I skip the sports coverage, but I do peek into Real Estate and Health, as interesting articles get stuck in there sometimes. I still peruse their website, to pick up stories that didn’t make it to print. And a week or so ago, an article about a land purchase led me to the Michael Huber Prairie Warbler Preserve.
The old way I found nature preserves was using Google Maps to get nosy about any green spots on the satellite view. This led me to a few abandoned Nike Missile bases to check out, and I’m saving them for fall and winter. For bike trails, I use the Trailforks app, which pointed me to my favorite morning ride, at Camden County College Trails. But the trails at the NJ Conservation Foundation preserves are not mapped in Trailforks. The Foundation website is very clear about which trails are for bikes and which are footpaths only, and I obey the rules. I remember when mountain bikes became popular and there were zero trails for them; we had to learn to share, and it was not helpful that New Jersey MTB bros yelled “move!” as their way of saying “excuse me, I’m using a trail that hikers made for hikers, without permission, can you please let me pass?”
I didn’t run into any walkers or hikers at Michael Huber, just two guys in a truck, probably performing deer management. But when I come across people on a trail, even if it’s a bike trail that they shouldn’t be using, I say “good morning,” and then, “can I squeeze by?” Because I’m not an asshole. If they have a dog, I stop until they have the critter under control, in case they are scared of bikes. It’s just courtesy. I try not to lecture people. If they were walking their dog on a single track downhill bike ramp—which has happened, I’ve seen the videos of bikers crashing into them—I might warn them that bicyclists can’t stop on a dime and it would suck to get hit. But mostly, I try to be kind. For example, I met a bicyclist at the local dog park yesterday, where I go walking on the trails. I don’t think the trails ban bikes, but they aren’t very good, and they get crowded with people and unleashed dogs. It’s dangerous to ride them. So I told this new bicyclist about Camden County College trails, which are about ten minutes away, and much safer, bigger, better tended, and more fun. Maybe I’ll run into them there.
But back to Hoobler Warby Parker Preserve. It’s a nice hidden little spot off the road in Vincetown, between Apple Pie Hill to the south and New Lisbon Development Center to the north, and unless you know it’s there, you might drive past the trailhead like I did. There’s no parking lot per se, you just park on the grassy shoulder. There’s an official trailhead sign, you know the kind on many hiking trails: a corkboard warning you about snakes, bears, ticks, and chiggers, with a cozy little useless shingle roof to make it look like a two-dimensional cabin from afar. I suppose this is to shade the plastic-coated trail map and notices from sun and rain? There are always empty little boxes for maps and pamphlets; they expect you to take a photo of the maps with your phone, or go to their website and download it, if you have signal. I’m not sure if this is just New Jersey, with its ridiculously underfunded park system, or if it’s common elsewhere. Let me know in the comments.
The trail maps and blazes are a little confusing, but I found my way around on the paths. I made a small loop that took me across a stream, and to a spung—that’s Piney for a wetland that dries up, depending on the season—and back to the parking area in about seven miles. I could have stretched it to eight or nine, but I wanted a reason to return. As it’s a Warbler Preserve, and the warbler migration has begun, I imagine it will be crowded with birders in the coming weeks. So I’ll wait until winter before I explore again.
I’m not good at spotting birds. I saw American Robins, and heard Eastern Wood Pew-Wees, which are pee-wees, but sound like they are saying “pew-wee!,” thus the name. More recently, I met a birder who pointed out a few warblers to me. They are tiny, pretty things. In the autumn they are quiet, as mating’s long done, so you are looking for little hoppy critters in the treetops that are barely larger than a Chicken McNugget. And hummingbirds, which I’ve been happy to see at my feeder in the yard, are barely the size of a piece of Popeyes Popcorn Chicken. If you can’t tell, I’m hungry.
I have yet to hear a warbler warble, except for a Pine Warbler, which are common in the Pines, as you might expect. I heard a mute swan the other day, and I want a refund from whoever named that enormous, gorgeous bird. She was crying because her mate was being attacked by another male. I’ll share the video of that drama next week after I edit it. But here’s a stream running across a woods road at the Warbler Preserve, with baby fish darting around and eating mosquitoes:
The spung is nearly a mile hike off the bike trail and might be good for birding, but it’s not much to see otherwise. I found a viewing stand with a critter turd on it. No hair in the scat so guessing it wasn’t a predator. About thumb sized. Might have been raccoon. I’m not good at turdentification.
The preserve is quiet and peaceful and would be lovely for a walk as well as a ride. There’s another mile or two for me to explore, and I’ll be back to see what I can see. I’m glad the New Jersey Conservation Foundation buys land and preserves it like this. If you ride in, there’s a gate to stop dirt bikes and ATVs; be aware that you will need to lift your bicycle through the bars.