Our campsite was here:
We were almost alone there most nights. On Saturday night we had a few neighbors but other than that, it was pretty much our own private campground. There was a full moon and a sweet breeze rushing through the pines. It was cozy.
Quite lovely, too. Here's how the Pine Barrens look by day:
The trees are pitch pine, scrub oak, and butternuts. The floor of the forest is covered in all directions with wild low-bush blueberries: mile upon mile upon mile of them. We drove through the town of Hammonton on our way there. It calls itself the Blueberry Capital of the World, and we could see why. They grow cultivated high-bush blueberries there -- mile upon mile upon mile of them. That's where all those New Jersey blueberries come from that show up in the stores every summer. If you were at the Bass River State Forest in blueberry season, you could pick wild blueberries by the pailful without leaving your campsite. Even in mid-September, we found a few wild berries here and there around our campsite.
The pitch pine trees are interesting. Apparently they survive the fires that periodically sweep -- or used to sweep -- through the Pinelands because of their thick, scaly bark.
I read that their pine cones only open to release seeds in the high heat of fires, which means they actually need fires in order to reproduce. If that's true, though, I'm wondering how the trees reproduce now that fires are controlled. Anybody know?
On our first day we visited Barnegat Light, a lighthouse at the northern tip of Long Beach Island.The beach is protected by huge boulders, from which you can look across a narrow strip of water to the southern-most tip of Island Beach State Park.
The lighthouse is open to visitors, who can climb a 217-step spiral staircase to what I am sure are amazing views at the top.
We both tried it. Dad got there, but my fear of heights caught up with me -- halfway up, I turned around and went back down. Actually, just looking at the picture makes my knees feel odd.
Island Beach State Park looked so pretty across the water that we visited it next. We drove up to Tom's River, out onto the island, and down into the State Park. We stopped for sandwiches at Uncle Nick's Sub Shop in Seaside Park. We recommend it. Then we drove into the park and down past the swimming beaches to the fishing area. We parked and crossed the dunes a short way to the beach. When we first arrived, it was warm and sunny and the beach was just beautiful.
We had the sand pretty much to ourselves except for some distant surf-fishermen, who drove by us occasionally, and this guy:
The minute we both walked away from our lunch, he stole our Pop-Tarts. There were unbelievable numbers of jellyfish on the sand below the tide line.
As you can see, there are several different kinds. Here's a close-up of a particularly interesting-looking one:
(As I learned later in the trip, it is not a good idea to get too near them. I don't know if I stepped on one or waded too near one, but I ended up with a swollen, burning, itchy foot that took nearly a week to return to normal. On the fifth day a wiggly white line appeared in the sorest spot that may have been the mark left behind by a tentacle. Odd that it took so long to show up, though.) During the afternoon at Island Beach State Park, dark clouds rolled in, the breeze turned to a howling wind that blew stinging sand in our eyes, and finally it started to rain. We fled the sandy wind, went exploring in the soft rain down a trail through the maritime forest of stunted pines and poison ivy, past the ruins of an old hotel, to the bay. Then we headed back to camp. The next day we visited Atlantic City.
No, it doesn't look much like this any more, but we were surprised and delighted by just how beautiful and inviting its wide, white, clean beach is. The casinos are ENORMOUS. Too bad I left the camera in the car. We strolled up the boardwalk and wandered into a kind of shopping mall or food court that had rows and rows of slot machines, inhabited by pale, intent, hunched people who seemed to know exactly what they were doing. Dad tried one or two of them but they were pretty confusing. After a while we got back in the car and drove south down Atlantic Avenue until we came to Margate, where we found Lucy the Elephant.
Another view:
From Atlantic City, you can drive all the way down the coast to Cape May on roads that cross bridges onto the various barrier islands and off again into marshy estuaries, wandering past wildlife refuges, blocks and blocks of beach houses, seafood restaurants, and stretches of sugar-fine sand. Corson's Inlet State Park is particularly beautiful. We parked the car along the road and stepped over some rocks into this lovely sandy cove:
We were planning to head all the way south to Cape May, but before long we came to the quiet village of Strathmere, where the houses that line so much of the beach pretty much disappear. We pulled off the road, climbed a flight of board steps over the dunes, and found ourselves on Whale Beach, a lovely stretch of quiet, open, undeveloped sand. Here's the view to the south:
Here's the view to the north.
(You'll notice that Mr. Poptart Seagull managed to find us again.) At Strathmere, people were letting their dogs run free, and nobody objected. (Most of New Jersey's public beaches and campgrounds have a deeply entrenched and discouraging dislike of dogs.) Nearby, a man was fishing in the shallow surf, catching a fish or two roughly every five minutes. He was efficiently filling up a plastic five-gallon bucket on the sand with dozens of them. I stopped and asked him what he was catching and he said they were spots. "See the spots on 'em?" he said. Sure enough, I did.We spent the rest of the afternoon wading in the warm water and napping on the warm sand. It was the prettiest beach town we visited. I'd like to go back there some day and find a beach house. I wonder if the rules about dogs are as flexible there in the summer as they are in September?
The next day was hot, hot, hot. Time for Beach Day back at Island Beach State Park with Caleb, Kate, Laura, Anna, and Hobbbes!
Hobbes makes for good beach-front entertainment. I took him for a walk. So did Caleb.
Laura buried him in the sand. You'd think he would have objected, but no, he liked it.
It was a hot, hot day, especially in Laura's un-airconditioned car. Hot by the road. Hot in the dunes. Warm on the sand. But oddly enough, downright cold by the water!
That night we had our half of the campground entirely to ourselves. Well, except for the wolf spiders, but you read about them already. In the morning it was time to pack up and say goodbye to Campsite 174.
We drove north through the Pine Barrens toward Trenton and found ourselves in cranberry-land. Cranberry bogs everywhere!
Cranberries close up:
Cranberry farmers seem to do pretty well.
We followed the Delaware River through Trenton and northward. We passed the spot where George Washington crossed the Delaware.
For our last stop in New Jersey, we pulled off Interstate 80 and ate lunch on the sand by the river on a canoe launching spot for the Delaware Water Gap National Reserve We were trying to figure out whether we were seeing vultures or bald eagles circling high overhead. I am pretty sure there were some of each, but by the time we got out the binoculars, they had flown off. (I did not take this picture. It was greener when we were there.)
New Jersey was lovely, except for their communal chip on the shoulder about dogs. Some day I'd like to go back.
3 comments:
If Dad was a 22 year old female model wearing hiking boots and cargo shorts, that picture would totally be a Subaru ad.
And Laura would have two mommies.
Not that there'd be anything wrong with that.
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