Happy Trails

The year's first caravan into the Pines

As pristine as some parts of the New Jersey Pine Barrens are, it must be remembered that they were groomed and cut by the indigenous Lenape, then the European settlers, and once the trees were used for building and to create charcoal, a conservative estimate is that “every tree has been cut down three times.” There’s little if any old growth, and roads that date to those times still criss-cross the forest.

I’ve followed the original stagecoach road that ran from the Philadelphia ferry landing in Camden, all the way to Tuckerton on the Jersey Shore (and you can read about it at the link) and as much as I love hiking around Batsto village, and mountain biking the twisty trails through the multiple state forests within the Pinelands National Preserve, sometimes it is best explored by car.

Now, you need the right car. The roads are sugar sand and clay, which turns into sticky pine mud when wet, and washouts stay filled and stagnant for months after the rain. Some roads can be traversed easily with a Honda CR-V, and one of the great explorers of the Pine Barrens Forums has used one for years; some roads are so rutted by mudding 4x4 trucks that even they can’t pass them in high water anymore. If you choose to explore, bring some boots and a stick so you can test the depth of puddles, and do not be afraid to turn back. As I have learned, getting winched out of the mud is a costly experience, and that’s if you have phone signal to call for help. I had to walk a mile up the road to make the call.

My first ride into the forest was with the Mtn Roo Tri-State group of Subaru enthusiasts, but we welcome all capable drivers. This trip had a Toyota RAV4 and a Lexus SUV, and we met up with a group of Jeep drivers as well. Subarus are quite nimble on dirt trails, and while they can’t keep up with a loaded Jeep, their AWD is advanced enough that sand is no problem if you drive carefully and air down your tires when necessary. I’ve never had to air down, but I don’t do doughnuts in the sand, either.

We began at Cedar Bridge tavern, site of one of the last skirmishes of the American Revolution, known as “the Affair at Cedar Bridge.” The tavern itself is nice to visit, and has historical artifacts inside. It’s one of several old taverns I have visited.

From there we took some old roads that lead to the ruins of Union Clay Works. We didn’t go searching for ruins, as they are scant, but the mining operation left its mark on the area with a beautiful scar, a blue hole. There are many of these in the preserve, as while the trees were burned in chimneys to make charcoal fuel, the sand was mined for glassworks, and the clay for kilns. Sand works are still active in the area, and anyone can visit the graffitied ruins of the Brooksbrae Terracotta factory, which is easily reachable from Pasadena Road.

Blue holes are most famous for being the Jersey Devil’s bathtub, but they should be infamous for drowning many swimmers who are unaware of how deep and cold they are. Think of a quarry that has filled with water, with no bottom in sight. I don’t know how deep this one is, but I’ve seen a photo of a hatchback that someone disposed of there, and it was several feet below the surface. Some have been described as five feet deep until they reach a sudden fifty-foot drop-off, as you might expect from a mining operation meant to extract enormous amounts of sand. Some holes are big enough to contain powerful currents created by the temperature drop due to their depth.¹

They are beautiful even on a gray winter’s day in a rainy January. I made a highlight video of our drive, which is below. My favorite part is in the middle, when I had to drive over roots and then a steep drop. I took video front and back of that one. The Outback has a front camera above the license plate, so I could see the way better than the windshield view suggests, but sending it was a sphincter pincher.

After enjoying the serene beauty of the lake, we met at the local Wawa for our repast. It doesn’t get more South Jersey than that. I had a hoagie. We called them subs, in North Jersey. Others say hero or grinder. But hoagie is the most fun to say, and no one knows why they are called that. Some etymologists say it is a corruption of “hoggie” as if it’s a sandwich big enough to satisfy a pig, or that it was named for singer Hoagy Carmichael, but neither satisfies. (If you want a satisfying hoagie from Wawa, I recommend the hot honey chicken.) I am going to tag the inestimable

Jonathon GREEN

aka Mister Slang, to see if he would like to weigh in…

Upcoming adventures:

A hike or bike trip in north Jersey (Chimney Rock or Norvin Green State Park)

Eagle watching with Hannah the Wanderfinder

A guided walk around Philadelphia

Forsythe Wildlife Refuge

Looking for the abandoned beach railroad at Cape May

1. Round Valley reservoir in Lebanon, NJ is 180 feet deep in places, and is one of those spots that “don’t feel like New Jersey.” Once you live here long enough, that phrase lacks all meaning.