J
JeffD
Guest
Early yesterday afternoon, I started hiking on the Batona trail between the Carranza Memorial and the railroad crossing, followed it to the sand road to High Crossing, and followed the tracks to the RR bridge over the Basto River bridge. I managed to make it back to the car right around sunset. After such a long walk, much of which I walked at a fast clip, I fell asleep shortly after I returned home, and experienced cramps in my legs, mainly the thigh muscle that attaches to the outside of the knee. It got very tight for awhile.
Despite some evidence of people's lack of respect for the rules and the environment, it was a pleasant walk, where I saw a variety of environments. The Batona trail booklet clearly states that the trail is for foot traffic only; no mountain bikes or horses. Shortly after I entered the trail I found tire tracks that may have been from a bicycle or from a dirt bike. This didn't seem to do a little damage in places to the trail. Hoofprints from horses were deep in places and in spots started degrading the trail. There were no signs posted that the trail was for foot traffic only. Near the part of the trail on the other side of the tracks, where the trail widens shortly before it connects to the sand road that leads to High Crossing, there were car or truck size tire tracks, quite deep in one place.
Occasionally thoughout the hike, I found the calling card of Joe Sixpack and other thoughtless folks.
I saw only a dirt bike on Carranza road near the railroad tracks, which seemed to suddenly turn down a sand road on my side of the tracks, heading towards Chatsworth just as I parked and I passed by a lone horse rider heading towards me, who remarked how obedient my dog was when I called to leash her, as Dolly and I approached her.
I reached High Crossing, which, as I learned from posts on the PBE board, that it wasn't high across the tracks at all. I think I could have crossed the tracks there with my old Mazda RX7, which was so low to the ground I don't think a lowrider could have modified it. I started to head back to Carranza as I planned but after walking a few hundred feet along the tracks, decided to look for the marker, I believe you, Guy, had mentioned. I couldn't find it. I remember learning that the Carranza crossing was a mile away, and I thought I didn't want to end the trip so quickly. I had looked at the topo map which I had downloaded from this site at home and considered walking to the Basto River bridge. I seemed a long way and I thought I'd try just walking the tracks from Carranza or High Crossing, if I can drive OK to High Crossing. Someday. But on a lark, I decided to at least head out for the bridge.
According to the topo map, the land around High Crossing and Carranza was high, and the elevation got lower as one approached the Basto River bridge. In most places I had to follow a path that ran alongside the tracks. For quite a distance the trail was dry. It became damp, then wet as I got closer to the Basto River bridge. There were some puddles in some places. After awhile, there were swamps and bogs just outside the railroad bed corridor.
In the drier area between High Crossing and the Basto River bridge, I saw acres of dead, down and charcoled trees. There was evidence that a fire had run through the area. For some areas, I wondered how the forest could regenerate with all the woody debris, small to medium trees and smaller stuff cluttering the forest floor. In one spot a medium to large pine tree had become uprooted and was stretched across the tracks. As I continued my journey, I found rows of healthy youong pine saplings growing between the bare, taller trees. There is hope, I mused.
I passed two RR crossings, the farthest one still had the rails across the crossing.
Up ahead and slightly to my left, I could see the sun low on the horizon, and was thinking about heading back. I thought "just a little further." Soon, I heard running water. Shortly after that, in this distance, there it was! The bridge over the river Basto. I didn't spend too much time there. I climbed down to the river and walked through a grove of cedars that grew close to where the river bends. About six feet in and scarcely two feet above river level the ground was practically bone dry. The roots of cedars somehow reached down far enough to get the moisture the trees need although the surface is dry.
Sunset approached, so I began walking back at a fast pace, passing and reviewing the scenery I had viewed from the opposite direction. I started getting tired and a little hungry. Although the scenery was pleasant, the last mile -- between High Crossing and Carranza, seemed the longest. Shortly before I reached the Carranza area, where I picked up the Batona trail, I though "I hope Guy was right that it's only a mile between High Crossing and Carranza." At one point I also thought about John Muir, who traveled much farther than I did, and ate little during his jaunts out in the Sierra Mountains, and sequestered himself to get alot of writing done when he got home. Unlike myself today, Muir didn't have the Internet to allow him to immediately communicate his experiences in the forest to others. Having the Internet is progress. And let's use the progress that has brought things such us the automobile, off road vehicles, canned beverage and modern science responsibly to keep the beauty of the Pine Barrens for generations to come.
Despite some evidence of people's lack of respect for the rules and the environment, it was a pleasant walk, where I saw a variety of environments. The Batona trail booklet clearly states that the trail is for foot traffic only; no mountain bikes or horses. Shortly after I entered the trail I found tire tracks that may have been from a bicycle or from a dirt bike. This didn't seem to do a little damage in places to the trail. Hoofprints from horses were deep in places and in spots started degrading the trail. There were no signs posted that the trail was for foot traffic only. Near the part of the trail on the other side of the tracks, where the trail widens shortly before it connects to the sand road that leads to High Crossing, there were car or truck size tire tracks, quite deep in one place.
Occasionally thoughout the hike, I found the calling card of Joe Sixpack and other thoughtless folks.
I saw only a dirt bike on Carranza road near the railroad tracks, which seemed to suddenly turn down a sand road on my side of the tracks, heading towards Chatsworth just as I parked and I passed by a lone horse rider heading towards me, who remarked how obedient my dog was when I called to leash her, as Dolly and I approached her.
I reached High Crossing, which, as I learned from posts on the PBE board, that it wasn't high across the tracks at all. I think I could have crossed the tracks there with my old Mazda RX7, which was so low to the ground I don't think a lowrider could have modified it. I started to head back to Carranza as I planned but after walking a few hundred feet along the tracks, decided to look for the marker, I believe you, Guy, had mentioned. I couldn't find it. I remember learning that the Carranza crossing was a mile away, and I thought I didn't want to end the trip so quickly. I had looked at the topo map which I had downloaded from this site at home and considered walking to the Basto River bridge. I seemed a long way and I thought I'd try just walking the tracks from Carranza or High Crossing, if I can drive OK to High Crossing. Someday. But on a lark, I decided to at least head out for the bridge.
According to the topo map, the land around High Crossing and Carranza was high, and the elevation got lower as one approached the Basto River bridge. In most places I had to follow a path that ran alongside the tracks. For quite a distance the trail was dry. It became damp, then wet as I got closer to the Basto River bridge. There were some puddles in some places. After awhile, there were swamps and bogs just outside the railroad bed corridor.
In the drier area between High Crossing and the Basto River bridge, I saw acres of dead, down and charcoled trees. There was evidence that a fire had run through the area. For some areas, I wondered how the forest could regenerate with all the woody debris, small to medium trees and smaller stuff cluttering the forest floor. In one spot a medium to large pine tree had become uprooted and was stretched across the tracks. As I continued my journey, I found rows of healthy youong pine saplings growing between the bare, taller trees. There is hope, I mused.
I passed two RR crossings, the farthest one still had the rails across the crossing.
Up ahead and slightly to my left, I could see the sun low on the horizon, and was thinking about heading back. I thought "just a little further." Soon, I heard running water. Shortly after that, in this distance, there it was! The bridge over the river Basto. I didn't spend too much time there. I climbed down to the river and walked through a grove of cedars that grew close to where the river bends. About six feet in and scarcely two feet above river level the ground was practically bone dry. The roots of cedars somehow reached down far enough to get the moisture the trees need although the surface is dry.
Sunset approached, so I began walking back at a fast pace, passing and reviewing the scenery I had viewed from the opposite direction. I started getting tired and a little hungry. Although the scenery was pleasant, the last mile -- between High Crossing and Carranza, seemed the longest. Shortly before I reached the Carranza area, where I picked up the Batona trail, I though "I hope Guy was right that it's only a mile between High Crossing and Carranza." At one point I also thought about John Muir, who traveled much farther than I did, and ate little during his jaunts out in the Sierra Mountains, and sequestered himself to get alot of writing done when he got home. Unlike myself today, Muir didn't have the Internet to allow him to immediately communicate his experiences in the forest to others. Having the Internet is progress. And let's use the progress that has brought things such us the automobile, off road vehicles, canned beverage and modern science responsibly to keep the beauty of the Pine Barrens for generations to come.
