With the wife and kids on vacation for the week I decided to head south for some uninhibited exploring today...
Unfortunately I ran smack into a wall of traffic ten miles long on the turnpike. I decided to get off at 8A and take 130, and that's when I realized that while I may know the roads of New Jersey really well, all the other people on the Turnpike have GPS systems with "reroute" buttons. 130 was packed.
Bailed off on 133 and headed east into Monmouth. Caught 571 and had a nice ride south, eventually picking up 528, then 539, and coasting down to 70 past the old missile facility (and some drifting smoke from today's brushfire). First stop was Whites Bog Village. We turned left down the main street and parked near the old sorting hall. Except for one or two walkers the place was deserted. A large sign on 70 advertised the general store, but it didn't seem to be doing much good.
I'm not sure what the building in this shot is, but it is located right across from the sorting house. This is a shot down the main street. My wife has the good camera with her, so these aren't all they could be.
A shot a little further down the road showing the preserved cottages, wearing the required sheath of weather-blackened cedar clapboard.
Behind the row of cottages the ground is clear, and the whole area in general is spotless, which was very nice.
My travelling companion for the day catches her breath on some steps behind one of the buildings.
A long shot of the sorting house. Everyone already knows it's falling down, so I won't belabor that point.
Closer shot of the section of worst collapse. Although there are man-sized holes in the fence, all these shots were taken from outside it by holding the camera up. Sasha, however, did not obey the rules and had to be called back several times after finding another hole.
The easternmost end with some truly impressive brickwork. Shame about all this, but that's the way it goes, and a similar process is certainly what left the old stone walls at Harrisville standing alone.
From Whites Bog we ducked down State Forest road and headed up the old roadbed looking for Buckingham, a place I've always wanted to check out. After travelling almost all of the way to the intersection with Butler Place Rd. I spied some weathered concrete in a field and pulled over. Here's a shot of the field.
The structure in the distance is a gun club, and Buckingham Road runs by it a little distance from the roadbed. It is marked a private lane where it joins up a little further down. I didn't want to bother them... but more on that later.
This is the concrete casting I had spied from the roadbed. I don't know much about dating concrete, but this has been sitting out a long time is my guess.
Another very weathered concrete casting. It's difficult to tell from the image, but beyond the casting is a cellar hole filled with concrete and brick rubble. In fact there was a lot of brick on the ground all around the clearing. I didn't see any marks, but then I didn't stay as long as I would have liked. More on that later...
A bit of half-buried brickwork that might have been part of a well, as it has a semi-circular shape. There were several remnants in the area that I thought might have been wells or lined pits.
A square concrete-lined pit of some kind.
This brick section of cellar wall seemed a good bit older than the concrete work to me, but I'm not really sure.
Another angle on the wall section.
There were quite a few pieces of this ornamental brick lying around. I turned over a few pieces of brick looking for marks, but didn't find anything.
Most of the time while I had been poking around Sasha just jogged about and looked at me as if to ask "When are we gonna play?" A few deer ambled by, and that got her a bit too excited, so I decided that in order to get some pictures I would have to leash her to the truck, which I did. I started out to get some images, and she of course started yipping in a most wounded way. Immediately what sounded like 10,000 hounds opened up from the direction of the gun club. It was like a really noisy scene from 1001 Dalmations. I suddenly felt somewhat conspicuous, so we didn't hang out as long as I would have liked. I will have to go back dog-less at some point.
Unfortunately I ran smack into a wall of traffic ten miles long on the turnpike. I decided to get off at 8A and take 130, and that's when I realized that while I may know the roads of New Jersey really well, all the other people on the Turnpike have GPS systems with "reroute" buttons. 130 was packed.
Bailed off on 133 and headed east into Monmouth. Caught 571 and had a nice ride south, eventually picking up 528, then 539, and coasting down to 70 past the old missile facility (and some drifting smoke from today's brushfire). First stop was Whites Bog Village. We turned left down the main street and parked near the old sorting hall. Except for one or two walkers the place was deserted. A large sign on 70 advertised the general store, but it didn't seem to be doing much good.
I'm not sure what the building in this shot is, but it is located right across from the sorting house. This is a shot down the main street. My wife has the good camera with her, so these aren't all they could be.
A shot a little further down the road showing the preserved cottages, wearing the required sheath of weather-blackened cedar clapboard.
Behind the row of cottages the ground is clear, and the whole area in general is spotless, which was very nice.
My travelling companion for the day catches her breath on some steps behind one of the buildings.
A long shot of the sorting house. Everyone already knows it's falling down, so I won't belabor that point.
Closer shot of the section of worst collapse. Although there are man-sized holes in the fence, all these shots were taken from outside it by holding the camera up. Sasha, however, did not obey the rules and had to be called back several times after finding another hole.
The easternmost end with some truly impressive brickwork. Shame about all this, but that's the way it goes, and a similar process is certainly what left the old stone walls at Harrisville standing alone.
From Whites Bog we ducked down State Forest road and headed up the old roadbed looking for Buckingham, a place I've always wanted to check out. After travelling almost all of the way to the intersection with Butler Place Rd. I spied some weathered concrete in a field and pulled over. Here's a shot of the field.
The structure in the distance is a gun club, and Buckingham Road runs by it a little distance from the roadbed. It is marked a private lane where it joins up a little further down. I didn't want to bother them... but more on that later.
This is the concrete casting I had spied from the roadbed. I don't know much about dating concrete, but this has been sitting out a long time is my guess.
Another very weathered concrete casting. It's difficult to tell from the image, but beyond the casting is a cellar hole filled with concrete and brick rubble. In fact there was a lot of brick on the ground all around the clearing. I didn't see any marks, but then I didn't stay as long as I would have liked. More on that later...
A bit of half-buried brickwork that might have been part of a well, as it has a semi-circular shape. There were several remnants in the area that I thought might have been wells or lined pits.
A square concrete-lined pit of some kind.
This brick section of cellar wall seemed a good bit older than the concrete work to me, but I'm not really sure.
Another angle on the wall section.
There were quite a few pieces of this ornamental brick lying around. I turned over a few pieces of brick looking for marks, but didn't find anything.
Most of the time while I had been poking around Sasha just jogged about and looked at me as if to ask "When are we gonna play?" A few deer ambled by, and that got her a bit too excited, so I decided that in order to get some pictures I would have to leash her to the truck, which I did. I started out to get some images, and she of course started yipping in a most wounded way. Immediately what sounded like 10,000 hounds opened up from the direction of the gun club. It was like a really noisy scene from 1001 Dalmations. I suddenly felt somewhat conspicuous, so we didn't hang out as long as I would have liked. I will have to go back dog-less at some point.
.
