Hike #1115; Warren Railroad

Hike #1115; Warren Railroad Anniversary Hike

3/24/18 Warren Railroad with Scott Helbing (Tea Biscuit), Conrad R. Blease, Matthew Davis, Pete G. Wilcox, Kellie Kegan, Jennifer Berndt, Justin Gurbisz, Brittany Audrey, James De Lotto, Terri Allen, Eric Pace, David Campbell (Captain Soup), Jessica M. Collins, Serious Sean Dougherty, Ed DiSalvo, Dave Goldberg, Ted Wright, ?, Dan Asnis, Dan Trump, Brandan Jermyn, Mark Godfrey (Bobo), Jacob Helbing, Shane Blische, Bob Leahey, Rob Anders, Keenan Van Note, Jeff Concord, Diane Reider, Craig Craig, Robin Deitz, ?, Lerch (Michael Clark), Elizabeth M, Kenneth Lidman, Jim "Mr. Buckett" Mathews, Russ Nelson, Ewa Magdalena Wdzieczak, Alex ?, Crystal Waters, Jack Lowry, Sarah Jones, Cheryl Mahala Glaser, Christian Alexander, ?, ?, ?, and ?.

It’s hard to believe it’s been 21 years since the first one. It still doesn’t seem possible it’s been a year since the twentieth. Time goes by so quickly.

The group at Clarence Road

It seems almost inconceivable that to much time could have gone past. Sometimes when this hike is approaching I almost dread it. It’s become that obligatory thing that I have to do every year or people will get upset. The truth is, if I skipped it I’d be upset too.

Wow new shirts!!!

I’ve been exploring so much ground, and I’ve become accustomed to seeing so much new stuff, revisiting places I’d been to so many times, and with the responsibility of such a huge group, can seem taxing and un-enjoyable at times.
Those feelings all pass. Once we’re out of the cars and at the start points, it’s much easier to let loose and feel great about the entire thing. After all, this is THE hike that started it all.

Group shot

There’s a true human desire to put everything in a box. To make everything seem tangible and categorized. People need links in order to move forward to full potential of the mind.

The old main

I've felt lucky enough from early on to have understood and respected the limitations in my own cognative tendencies, and my need for categorization with figurative stepping stones for my memories.
That’s what the hikes evolved to early on. That first hike was an adventure in lieu of a birthday party, where my closest friends gathered with me to hike my favorite abandoned railroad bed. It was my seventeenth birthday, and I imparted the history of the line to them then the same as I do today.

Along the rail bed

As a matter of convenience, all of the hikes back then ended at my house, and began about twenty miles from my house, wherever I could get dropped off, on whatever historic routes or trails existed or that were worth walking.
When we got our drivers licenses, we connected those past hikes with other sections of the same routes further out. It only took about two years before the concept of the connective hikes and how far I could get contiguously in a life time really took shape.

Blair's Knob view

There are plenty of differences between then and now for me. Conrad and I both wore full fatigues on that first trip. I had an interest in joining the military until I tried a trip with the older Scouts in 1998. I still wanted to have a career in art, and hiking and nature seemed to be a secondary interest.
It took sharing these experiences with new friends to realize that this was truly the way I wanted to live my life. Visual art is great, and while it was enjoyable at times, I found it to be like mental masturbation.

The group

Art, after all, is intended to be shared, and I realized I was creating pieces in ways that were only selfish. I was entertaining myself at times, but then it was only to seek attention of others, mostly women. I’d love that pretty girls would gather around when I drew something, but something felt empty about it to me. People would often put a pen and paper in front of me and say “draw something for me!”. Many artists will agree: creativity cannot flow on demand. I was in need of a new outlet for my passion that I hadn’t realized yet.

My grandfather and I at Dunnfield in 1985

I’d been hiking since I was three years old, and even before that my grandmother would push me in the stroller along dirt roads like Simonds Lane near their house, which I still have memories of.
Whenever I had a bad grade in school, my mother and grandmother would say “Your mind isn’t on your school work...it’s out in the woods with Poppop!”.
They were right of course. I was always daydreaming of what was around that next corner that we just didn’t have the time to reach. I wanted to know where every railroad or trail went. Back then, I wanted to see either end of every bridge and culvert.

The group

Seeing connections and how things fit together was an irresistible curiosity I’ve always had.
When it came time for college, I started applying and got accepted to ones I don’t even recall the names of. I attended college fairs and looked for direction. I had given up on art when I realized the limitations and demands required to be an artist and none of it appealed to me. I decided to go to community college, more to keep busy than to really learn more. I dabbled in theatre, and then even pursued psychology, because I’d always been fascinated with people and social interactions.

The "A-ROCK"

I was horrible at math, and the problems were just pointless and frustrating. The subjects I loved were all pointless papers either requiring reiteration of things done thousands of times before, or teachers who knew less on the topics than I did. Eco-Tourism was just taking off and local history was being brought to the forefront. When teachers began offering classes imparting information (sometimes incorrectly) that I knew better (and in one case citing articles I’d written for magazines myself), I lost all interest in it.

Me on Hike #1

I thought for a time to go back, but after a couple of years of organizing the hikes, I had passion for little else. I spent years organizing and trying to get people to come out, and I can’t count how many times I’d be waiting in the morning and those who said they’d be there would not show up.
Since early 2004, I’ve never posted a weekend hike that no one showed up for. There was always at least one, and usually more than one. I’d ended up in magazines, whether it was writing myself or the subject due to some initiative I’d gotten involved in, with trail building or promoting. I was hired as a park employee in late 2007 and have consistently been in some form of park land management for ten years. I’m making more money now than many of the co workers I first started with, and I’ve touched more people than so many of my peers who had attended colleges and even gotten their masters degrees. I’m so incredibly happy I’d found the direction I took so early on, and that it’s evolved as it has.

The group from the Warren RR hike in 1998; 20 years ago

This hike ended up being exactly what I wanted. It was really relaxing, a lot of fun, minimal drama, and brought so many people together. Rain in the forecast scared a lot off that would have otherwise attended, and several others had other commitments as well, but it was still great. It was far fewer attendees than before, but a total of 54 was not bad at all.

Starting out!

I’d have loved to have more of my family like my grandfather and my mom join, but at least my brothers Tea Biscuit and Bobo came out, and for the second time, my nephew Jacob.
We all met at Port Colden Mall, as we’ve been doing often since the beginning. It’s always great to pull up and see so many friends there. People travel from all over for this one, great distances, and I’m honored they make the trip.
Shuttling to the starting point is always the worse. I had just purchased a seven passenger mini van, which helped a bit. We had cars that had to be spotted in Oxford and Buttsville.

Despite the complications with that, we managed to shuttle north to the gravel parking area at the intersection of Route 46 and Clinton Road.
It took a little while for everyone to show up with the car shuttles, but it’s been worse in the past. I actually tried to keep people moving along, but the start point is always pretty slow going.
I got everyone in a circle and went over the history of the railroad, the local area, and of the hikes themselves. I imparted that I’d only somewhat recently learned that the railroad through the little village of Delaware was the property of my five times Great Grandfather, Henry Albertson, and that he sold it in the 1850s to John I. Blair from his deathbed. My family dates back further in the area to Nicholas Alberson, who’s father was also named Nicholas. He was owner of the ferry over the Delaware River at the site, and had it taken over by General George Washington in 1777.

“July 26th 1777 this Day my Boat was taken away from me By John Conley, Lieut. for General Washentons armey to Cross the River Delaware By the Command of Abrm. Labar, Colln.” - Nicholas Albertson

Historic ferry view

The ferry was later known as Myers Ferry and Hartzell’s Ferry, a major crossing in the years before the bridges.
Just as we were getting ready to move on, and we did the circle of introductions, Jack came out to make an announcement. He and Sarah had come up with these crazy shirts with photos of Mr. Buckett, Dan Asnis, and myself on them! It was hilarious! I think he thought I didn’t like it at first, maybe because I didn’t put it on, but I was wearing my suit and tie for this one. I ended up wearing my shirt on the next 911 Memorial Trail trip!
With fifty shirts available and only 54 participants, we had almost enough that everyone could wear one, almost perfect!
We headed from the meet point down along 46 past the Sanico place where the railroad station used to be. Blair’s Knob towered above us to the left. Henry Albertson’s home used to sit right at the top of the knob back in the day.

The group

We took another break soon at the site where Clarence Road used to pass under the tracks. This is where I always get the group photo every year, sort of obligatory. I was on the phone with Conrad who didn’t want to take part in it, but we met up with him ahead at Smiddy’s.
Smiddy’s has been supporting us on the hikes every year, usually letting us use their restroom, but this year it was closed for the first time in 21 years.
Everyone got the drinks they wanted, and we were almost ready to move on.

We had one more announcement from our friend Jess Collins, a super tough hiker who’d been coming out with us since July of 2014: she was about to begin her own trek to complete the Appalachian Trail, but she’s raising money for a great cause. At this point, she’s already started!
From Jess: We had one more announcement from our friend Jess Collins, a super tough hiker who’d been coming out with us since July of 2014: she was about to begin her own trek to complete the Appalachian Trail, but she’s raising money for a great cause. At this point, she’s already started!
From Jess: “Follow my journey as I take on the 2,189 mile Appalachian Trail while raising money for a great cause along the way. The trail extends from Georgia to Maine and will make for a really amazing adventure. It also makes for a great opportunity to support an equally amazing cause. My hike will be benefitting the New Jersey Coalition Against Sexual Assault. Follow the link below to learn more about my hike and to make an immediate donation, or visit https://www.hikefor.com/Jess/AT/2018 to make a per mile pledge to show support each step of the way!”
Here’s the donation link if teh above one doesn’t work:
https://www.youcaring.com/njcasa-1167911

Historic image of Manunka Chunk Junction

We continued on our way, and I pointed out where some of my family had once lived on the east side of Delaware, approaching Ramseyburg. The brick home where my great grandmother had lived as a border with Mr. Evans, who’s title was “Tunnel Keeper” for Manunka Chunk Tunnel, has been gone a few years now. I’d recently been talking on line with the woman who lives in the house where my family’s saw mill stood there as well.

The Shrub of Might

We next crossed over the road at Delaware and continued toward Ramseyburg. I pointed out “The A-Rock” to the left side of the right of way, where I was always told my family used to play as children. It’s a rock cut built by the railroad that, when blasted, came out looking like a letter “A”.
We continued beyond there, and soon had to climb the slope where a cell tower access road was built over it. Just beyond, we reached the Shrub of Might site.
Since 1997’s hike #2, we had stopped at this point and ran up the shale slopes as sort of a contest to see who could do it fastest. I was always the quickest until my late buddy Kyle Zalinsky finally came out a fraction of a second ahead of me. I’ve still not beat him.

Someone repainted this barrier near Manunka Chunk

I wasn’t going to try it this time. I was kind of dehydrated and not feeling at 100%, but then I said “screw it” and started running up it anyway. Just as I pushed off to get some good inertia up the slope, I felt some horrible pain in my left lower leg. I had pulled a muscle pretty badly. One of the worst I’d ever done. Pushing off at all was absolutely horrible. Everyone was watching me ready to run up the hill, and I was not about to let them think I couldn’t handle it. Of course I could deal with the pain. I set off and started running again.

Manunka Chunk Tunnel on the hike in 1998

I managed to get to the top, to the little bush in front of two trees for which we named it the Shrub of Might. Captain Soup had also run up it. He asked how we were going to get down.

Manunka Chunk Tunnel on this trip

I told him we just slide, and proceeded to quickly make my way down the slope. Just before hitting the tree at teh bottom, I turned three hundred sixty degrees around to get over a bit, avoiding any disaster. My leg hurt horribly though. I massaged it a little bit and pushed forward.

Shane's dissertation

I didn’t know how I was going to get through the hike for a few minutes. It was really really bad. Still, I pushed on, and we walked gradually down hill to Ramseyburg Road where there had once been a bridge. I asked that everyone hold up when we got to Manunka Chunk Tunnel, which would give a good long section of right of way on a shelf above Rt 46. Shane is the moderator for a Facebook group on the Belvidere Delaware Railroad, which had it’s junction with the Lackawanna old main at Manunka Chunk.

Manunka Chunk Tunnel

He requested that I try to hold everyone off at the tunnel so he could go over some history. I also wanted to go over some, and then make sure we had them together for a side trip at the other side.
We gathered at the west portal, which is actually more oriented north, but it uses officially east/west distinction.
People were climbing around at the entrance a bit, or getting their shoes ready to pass through the cold water ahead.
Lerch busted out some Weyerbacher Blasphemy, one of my favorite beverages, which he only brings out for special occasions (it’s currently not being made any more).

Pin striped buddies

Lerch has always been very generous with extravagances such as this, and it really adds something special to an already special day for me, so it’s always much appreciated.

Blasphemy!

Every year I run this hike, I like to do something a bit differently. This time, when we got everyone together and stopped, I announced to everyone that I would pass through the former westbound portal rather than the eastbound. I had not done this on the anniversary hike itself since 2006, and it would make it quite a bit more interesting.
Shane gave his historic dissertation on the Lackawann and it’s junction at that point with the Belvidere-Delaware Railroad, and I added some things in here and there.

Manunka Chunk from above in 1900, from Detroit Publishing Company

After the history talk, we split the group and started heading over or through the tunnels. By this point, most of the group going over had at least someone that knew the way.

Rails in the tunnel

I led the way through the westbound tunnel, with Lerch closely along side of me. He had done this tunnel with me in more recent years and handled it just fine.
We climbed over the first cave in, which is pretty substantial, and then could see the railroad rails. This particular tunnel was the last one in use. Maybe it’d have continued to have some use if it hadn’t collapsed before the tracks could be removed, but I don’t know. The second cave in is just barely beyond the first, and a little darker to get over.

Trying to walk the rails in Manunka Chunk Tunnel

After the second cave-in, the water starts pretty quickly. This section can be really tough because the silt is so thick between each of the railroad ties.

The tunnel

The water is muddy and opaque, and so the ties cannot be seen at their odd intervals to step on. Walking on the rails is an option if you have good balance, but only someone with Lerch’s convenient height can stand on them and then just balance up against the wall. I would gently put my feet down slowly to make sure I had good footing on each of the ties before putting all of my weight down on them. A step between them is surprisingly deep and means a whole lot of silt. I was also wearing a new pair of black loafers I’d bought.

Manunka Chunk Tunnel

Everyone else slowed up a lot when they got to the water while Lerch and I powered through. Russ carried Ewa through the mess, which is a respectable feat with that silt and the ties.

Manunka Chunk

My nephew Jacob handled it really well too. He had done the Oxford Tunnel the previous Summer and handled it pretty well, so this one was easy in comparison.
We got out the other side and continued along the right of way through the waters of Catherine’s Run, which passes through the tunnel since it’s abandonment. The creek has flowed through the tunnel during just about every damaging storm since the railroad was built, and is now part of it’s permanent course.

Manunka Chunk

We made our way to the path that goes up to the left of the railroad bed, where much of the group was waiting. Several stopped to change their shoes and socks at this point.

Falls on Catherine's Run

I got down into the waters of the Catherine’s Run to wash my shoes off, which were full of all sorts of silt. There’s a scenic waterfall there now, with plank remnants of the flume system that used to carry the creek through it’s artificial waterway to a crossing further down stream.
I then walked up hill a bit to the spot where two of the plans cross the stream as a sort of bridge to the fields of Beaver Brook Wildlife Management Area.

Catherine's Run crossing

The plank crossing is getting worse every year. Those boards won’t last forever and we’ll have to figure out a better way to get across.
Serious Sean was on the other side pretending to be a troll or something and being silly. Matt was heckling crossers or something or other also.
I got across to the other side where I think all of the group was waiting except for Conrad and Mrs. G, who had walked further ahead through the fields to continue on the railroad bed.

Troll fun

Fortunately, most everyone else waited. My plan this year was to again bring the group up through the fields of the wildlife management area for views and a memorial spot.
While we were waiting, we sang a few songs with Jack playing his carbon fiber guitar. I remember singing “Maybe I’m Amazed” and I really can’t remember what else.
Even when I wasn’t a part of it, there was plenty of singalong stuff going on, audible behind.

Music in the field

When we had just about everyone together, we turned to the left, sort of back the direction we came, and walked to the end of the open field area, into the woods on an old farm road. We didn’t go too far on that before heading directly up hill on an angle through the woods. I realized we didn’t have everyone following yet when we got to the first knoll, so we had to wait. No one would figure out where we were going if they didn’t stick with us here.

Admiration!

When the rest of the group started to follow us up the hill, I started moving again. The trail we were following, already faint, stated to disappear. We continued walking parallel with the “no trespassing” signs on the property line with the state land until we came out to a field at the top. I had done this route before, but this time we would do it a bit differently.
In the past, I had taken to the fields and a tree line heading sort of due east.

Beaver Brook WMA

I wanted to do this a bit differently than I’d done it in the past, but we ended up going even further than I was anticipating. We ended up following a line of trees to the right. This had a sort of curve to it, and it seemed much longer than the amount of time I’d thought we would be out there. The access to this field from where we headed up the hill was very weedy with abrasive briars, so it took everyone a while to get on through the mess.

Beaver Brook WMA

When enough of the group was up to be able to see where I was going, I continued on through the fields . I think we ended up going around a corner in them or something. Somehow it didn’t seem right, and I was trying to follow it on my phone GPS. I knew the point I needed to get out to for a farm access road, so either way we ended up heading to it.
As I looked back through the fields, it w s like the Exodus. An army of people were just coming from back as far as I could see following my crazy route. It was amazing.

Beaver Brook WMA

We had another break to help people catch up, and then continued on ahead. We followed more field perimeters until I saw a break in the tree line, turned right, and then reached the farm access road that took us to the southeast where we needed to be. We followed the old road left and right, and then down hill to Upper Sarepta Road where we regrouped again. We turned left on the paved road and then got together again at the ninety degree bend at the top of the hill where the Beaver Brook WMA sign is.

Beaver Brook WMA

When I started doing this hike, this whole section was not included as part of it. I added it on as I’ve had to change the hike over the years.
We originally would go from Portland PA to Washington NJ, but the trestle over the Delaware has gotten to be too much of a debacle to get such a huge group of people over. Everyone is slow on it, and if we tried that we’d certainly get in trouble with a large group trying to cross.

Beaver Brook WMA

Rather than try to figure out another way like walking Rt 46 on the NJ side, I decided to add some mileage to the middle of the hike and feature some other stuff, which is why the Beaver Brook WMA portion came about.
When we used to start at the foot bridge in Portland, we would have a moment of silence for the friends we’d lost. My good buddy Ron Short was the first of the hikers from the group we had lost tragically, and his ashes were spread from that foot bridge. It seemed an appropriate spot for a moment of silence.

Beaver Brook WMA

When we eliminated that portion of the hike, I wanted another spot that would be appropriate for that, and the overlook on Upper Sarepta Road I thought was the perfect spot.
Now, 21 years later, we’ve lost many more friends. There are some that only hiked with me a little, some that were out every week. Some may have passed and I haven’t even heard about it yet. I just don’t know. Regardless, we give them a moment.

View in Beaver Brook WMA

The names I can recall of friends and hiking acquaintances we’ve lost are Ronald D. Short, Kyle Zalinsky, Christina Manley, Bobby ?, “Connecticut Joe” Bukowski, Russ Moyer, Brian Rapp, TJ Kearns, and Pat Horsch. I’m sorry if I’ve forgotten to put someone on there.
We paused at the overlook and had our moment of silence, then I gave a little more history of the area before we moved on. Serious Sean picked up a giant deer carcass stuck on a stick, and I got another bigger group shot with more joiners.

Carcass fun

Christian and two others had joined just at the west portal of Manunka Chunk Tunnel.
We started walking down hill through the middle of the fields. I kept to the right to be sure to get to the next opening through trees to the next field below. Once in that field, we turned slightly to the left and cut through another open field directly down hill. Some of the group broke off to the left to check out the abandoned barn off in the woods.

Group shot

We could see Jenny Jump Mountain beyond as we made our way down hill, and then to an opening in the trees to another old roadway.

Beaver Brook WMA

Ahead, we could see the large hump of Mount No More, a mountain allegedly named because a native American was shot from atop his horse on the location, and someone made a pun that he would “mount no more”. It’s probably not a true story, but it’s a wonder how it got it’s name.
Once on the woods road, we turned to the left to follow it out toward Sarepta Road. There was a little path we took to the right with an outlook over to the long abandoned Ledge Road quarry.

Mt. No More

The old quarry was once served by a spur from the old Lackawanna Railroad main line. A spot on Ledge Road on the west side is obviously where the track would have crossed.

Ledge Road quarry

We continued from the quarry overlook to Sarepta Road where there was some junk laying around, and Serious Sean found an old computer chair with a skull on it. Always ready to have fun with some prop, he took the wheeled chair with him out ot the road, which we soon realized rolled pretty well on it.
A few of us took turns sitting in the chair and rolling it down the road, but I think most of us were too heavy.

Ledge Road quarry

Jacob was the smallest, and so he got on there and was very easy to roll. I believe he got rolled all the way down the hill until we got back to the railroad grade.
Once to the railroad bed we turned left and started heading to the south again. This is a section that is owned and managed by Jenny Jump State Park, and it’s nice and clear. The distance from here to Bridgeville always goes really fast. I took the time to hold off and chat with more people, catch up with some that I hadn’t had the chance to talk to earlier.

Chair fun

We made our way along the right of way, across Hope Crossing Road, and then out to the old Bridgeville Station.
Bridgeville Station is the only original Lackawanna old main line station still standing. Last year, Matt and I were worried that we might have lost this one for good. A bad fire ripped through the newer section of building that had been constructed against the old station building and we feared the worst.

Annie and James Ward, Bud and Helen Lynch at Bridgeville Station, from White Township Historical Society

It was just before the anniversary hike that it had happened last year. We were sharing the news story everywhere. It looked as though it would be a total loss. I drove by prior to the hike and could see some of the framework was still there, but didn't know for sure until the actual anniversary hike a few days before the big public event one.
When we got to it, a lot of the roof was wrecked. The station had had new additions put on it over the years, and in the past we could always tell which part was the station part because it had a roof window as well as the entire original slate roof. That roof had been covered by a new metal roof in more recent years.
When we finally got to see it, I was amazed that the station was actually made of stone. I could never see the edge of it because there was a new cement block wall built over the awning that would have been on the station platform. All of the historic pictures just look to be a wooden station. It must have been covered with some type of facure board.

Chair fun

As we approached the station, I wouldn't have been surprized to see the entire thing torn down. Matt noticed the repair work first. They had done a really great job of repairing not only the station section of it, but all of the remaining extra building that had been added on, and it was back in use. It's nice to see something finally going right like that when it comes to historic buildings. Maybe we can look forward to seeing it on all future hikes.

Above: An historic image of a train on the old main line between Sarepta and Buttsville. Jenny Jump Mountain is seen in the background.

Chair fun

We continued walking past the station to Route 519. The group split there, and some of them went to the right to follow 519 to 46 because they didn’t want to go across the sand quarry property beyond.
Most of us just continued across. A fenced in area with tanks or something had been built over the grade even before hike #1, which we go around, and a building across the street from the station had been demolished in recent years.

Chair fun

We walked around that section and returned to the right of way. We walked east on it for a little bit, and then reached the sand quarry area. This has changed a lot over the past 21 years, and the contours of the land always have something different every year we go by. On hike #1, we could still walk the railroad bed straight on through.
The grade was originally a sort of shelf back then. We could see the quarry operation to the south, and there was a grade crossing with another quarry operation to the north.

Chair fun

The rail grade was in a bit of a cut as it moved ahead, and out of sight of the operation. When my brothers and cousins and I were little, my grandfather used to bring us back there, and we would explore all of the ATV trails that scattered from the rail bed throught the surrounding woods. The quarry area to the north of the rail bed was started and stopped, and had been inactive for many years, enough that there would be pretty good sized trees growing through.

Chair fun

There was at least one really steep hill climb slope on the far side with a turning path at the top that we used to like to climb up. We spent a lot of fun Sunday afternoons exploring that area.
The operation had just started to use that section to the north by the time of the first big hike. By the end of 1997, the quarry company had piled more than twenty foot high debris piles on top of the grade coming from Bridgeville, which we then had to walk over.

Chair fun

By 1998, walking the right of way meant following a slowly moving pile of dirt that almost completely covered the grade. Within a year they started tearing into the grade itself, and pushing through got tougher. In 2001, they had completely quarried it out. There was a twenty foot drop where the right of way used to be in the very middle, and so we had to start walking further to the west.
Those piles remained in place on the grade closer to Brideville until they were removed in January of 2002 and the right of way was sort of restored to it's original grade for at least a part, but in the past couple of years they've piled stuff up there again.

The rail bed in Sarepta

ATV paths still make their way through, sometimes going to the left, sometimes right from the original grade and into an adjacent cultivated field.

The rail bed near Hope Crosing

Work has stopped almost completely after an initial cut on what was north of the rail bed, and an ATV path has been well delineated to a steep upward slope into the woods.

The rail bed near Hope Crossing

We've been using that route for years now. There's only one untouched spot with some trees and an old farm road in the middle, where some antique pieces of farm equipment are lying around.
We followed the path into the woods, which takes us to a big slope high above the cut where the railroad grade remains, but is so overgrown and hard to get to that it's not worth even trying. Too messy.

On the rail bed

We headed down the steep slope from the ATV path to reach the old rail bed again, just beyond where a house used to stand next to it, and headed toward Hot Dog Johnny’s.

Hot Dog Johnny's

When we got just up the slope from Hot Dog Johnny's, we cut to the right and headed down. Conrad and Mrs. G were already down there for a bit and moved on ahead of the rest of the group.
The slope climbing down is always loose, and you'd think that we've done it so many times that it might actually start turning into a path, but fifty or so people once a year clearly hasn't been enough to do it.
We took a break and enjoyed some food. Someone gave me a hot dog, I think it was Jack.

Hot Dog Johnny

This year, the tables were not yet set up outside, and so some of the group would go and sit by the river, and others sat on the walls around the picnic overhang.

The rail bed

A lady who works there saw me, and said she remembered our group from previous years. She seemed happier to see us this time. In previous years we were probably more of a burden than we were welcomed. There was the one year where Justin and Lerch climbed up onto the giant hot dog on top, and then the other year where Jack and I were singing and playing the Styx song "Come Sail Away" in the dining area. This year people behaved.

The rail bed

Some of the group was to cut out at about this point. Bob Leahey left his car somewhere near Buttsville, as did some others. He was planning to join up with us again later but had an engagement in the middle of the day. Others left cars at the intersection with Rt 31 and Rt 46.
We enjoyed our food and were soon ready to head out. I always go directly across and climb steeply back up the slope to the railroad bed, but a lot of the group continued down 46 and climbed up Hoyt Lane, which goes across the railroad bed near the top.

Sarah in a tree

We started walking down the rail bed to the east, closer to the actual settlement of Buttzville.

Ass-phalt

As we approached the crossing with Hoyt Lane, there was a bunch of crap laying in the middle of the trail. There was some garbage in it, but most of it appeared to be chunks of busted up asphalt apparently from a road or maybe a driveway. It was a long stretch of it heading out to within sight of the former grade crossing.
I figured that it was probably done by the township to get rid of some of the stuff, but it could have been dumped by anyone. I took some photos with hopes maybe Justin could do something.

Ass-phalt

Even though this section sort of dead ends at the sand quarry property and probably wouldn't be able to be a part of a trail if we could get it together, it still sets a bad precedent that anyone can do anything to mess up the railroad grade.
The section ahead is among the more obliterated sections anyway.
Approaching Hoyt Lane, the rail bed went straight across. The road was paved directly across the railroad ties, because I remember them still sticking out of the pavement as we went by when I was little.

Ass-phalt

From there, it then keeps to the right of the road, and a tennis court is built over it.

Reaching Hoyt

Beyond the tennis court is some sort of environmental cleanup area. Years ago, there was a giant pond of mud that we used to walk by and throw random objects into.
If we threw something in, it would slowly sink, and we would watch with great amusement. The last time I can remember throwing anything in was probably in 2000. It soon started drying up and trees grew through it. Then a couple years back, there was a cleanup and the entire area was dug out, with environmental cleanup signs posted all around it.

Historic image of the rail crossing at Hoyt Lane

I set up one of my “then and now” photos with an historic one at the former rail crossing as we passed by. The road appears to have been moved a bit since rail days.

Hoyt Lane today

We continued down the road parallel with the former grade to the intersection with Green Pond Road. From there, we turn barely to the right at the church to get back on the rail bed.

Historic image of the Green Pond Road crossing from the John Willever Collection.

This is another spot where one would never have even guessed was a railroad crossing, it just looks so much different. The grade is open on one side, but destroyed on the other.

Green Pond Road crossing today

We followed the rail bed behind homes, very clearly through lands of Pequest Wildlife Management Area from here. The right of way becomes obliterated a bit near the mini mart approaching the former Rt 46 crossing.

Lackawanna Railroad crossing Rt 46 in Buttzville NJ

We had to follow a path up hill from the railroad bed at this point for just a bit, then descend to where the bridge used to be over 46, one of the worst crossings.

It's recently come up that there have been "no pedestrian" signs at the traffic light there, which is ridiculous because there's no way to safely cross the highway for both continuation of the railroad walking, or the future route of the Warren Highlands Trail planned there.

Passing through Pequest Cut

We continued across anyway, and soon got to the three arch Pequest Viaduct. It supposedly replaced an earlier three arch stone span, but usually these bridges were built next to the old ones, while new ones were put in to replace. It's for this reason I kind of think maybe the original bridge might be under the concrete facing, but I can't be sure. We admired the view of the Pequest River below as well as the former Lehigh and Hudson River Railroad bed, and then moved further into the WMA lands. This is a nice long stretch of railroad bed that remains clear out to Pequest Road.

The old house that used to be off Pequest Road

I pointed out historic sites along the way as I usually do, like the Pequest Furnace site, and where the furnace railroad used to break off just before passing through the impressive Pequest cut. We then continued on the grade out to Pequest Road.

The house site today

The area ahead of Pequest Road has changed quite a lot. There was once a farmstead out there that has just about totally disappeared today.

Lower Denmark Road

The railroad bed at Pequest Road would have been an underpass, and the grade is now a messy swamp that even I've never tried to walk through. At the north side, the pathway follows a parallel access road, and it followed a farm lane parallel on the south side. That was developed in early 2003 as a paved pedestrian trail parallel with the grade out to the farmstead site, and then it joins the railroad bed for the distance to a cut over down to Lower Denmark Road.

Former rail bed on Lower Denmard Rd

We used to go in the farm house on the earlier hikes, including the first one. Our buddy Shayne appeared from around a corner and scared teh bejesus out of me with a knife on that one.
When we walked through during the Summer of 2002 one day, we found the house to be destroyed. I think maybe the local fire department used it as a sort of drill or something. The barn buildings that were also associated with the farm remained standing for a couple of years after, but they too were soon destroyed.

Shane taking underpass photos

We continued past this site and the trail entered the woods. This is kind of a weird area coming into Oxford. The left side of the grade, overlooking Cat Swamp, is among the most obnoxiously signed private property I've ever seen. The trail leaves the rail bed just before Lower Denmark Road, and the rail bed continues behind houses. We used to walk that section at the beginning, but more and more land owners encroached on it, starting with a sort of enclosed animal fence in 2002.

Justin and Shane goofing off

We have also had problems with the guy that lives in the last house at the end of Lower Denmark. Not a friendly guy, he yelled at us walking through at the end of a night hike about being out there, and when we continued walking, chased us down with his big pickup truck. He nearly ran us down as he went past over and over. He was clearly either drunk or mentally unstable. As we walked by this property on this hike, he had several nasty dogs along the edge of the property chained up at intervals, apparently to keep people off. I think someone said they had seen a Confederate flag as well.

Serious entertainment

Rob made some funny comments about that one. He was there the night the guy flipped out, and I honestly never thought I'd get him walking down this section of road again, because the guy stopped and yelled at Rob (because I flipped him off for being a dick).
We made our way further down the road and past the station platform, which still stands. Lower Denmark Road has been built on top of the railroad bed from the station site on to town, realigned in the nineties. We took a break when we got to where Furnace Brook passes beneath the former rail bed. Shane went down to take photos of the structure, and we inundated him with snow balls.

Where the iron mines railroad crossed 31

Once everyone had caught up, we headed out into Oxford, and then went over to Mountain Valley Liquors. I don't recall if I got anything else to drink; I don't think I really needed anything.
From this point, we did the hike differently than we normally do. Usually, the group splits and half go through Oxford Tunnel, and the other half stay on Rt 31 and rejoin on the other side. This time, we would all go over the tunnel.
Last Summer, I ran a hike through there, and we passed through the tunnel for the last time.

1856 Warren Railroad bed above 31

It had collapsed once in Winter 2005, but it was still reasonable to get through it. After this last one, it was a much worse collapse, and a giant rock the size of a car was poised to fall from the ceiling. It was right at the point where the original 1862 masonry facing met up with the 1906 concrete and brick that was used to refurbish. The masonry was dimpled like it was about to drop the giant boulder from the top down. No one could survive that size thing coming down on them. Further, this giant collapse could easily hold back far more water and make it so deep as to require swimming. I would like to revisit and see if it has collapsed more, but I want to do so in warmer weather when we can be sure.

1856 Warren Railroad bed

A few more people left us in Oxford. The rest of us continued to walk along 31. This was by far the worst part of the entire hike, but it also gave me the opportunity to point out more historic sites along the way that I usually don't get the chance for.
From Oxford, there were railroad crossing what is now 31 just about everywhere. The first one was the 1856 original Warren Railroad right of way. Prior to the completion of the Van Nest Gap Tunnel (the real name of Oxford Tunnel), a temporary track went over and around.

Map showing roughly the original route pre-tunnel

The section was only used from 1856 to 1862, except for the northernmost section which survived as a spur because the original Oxford Furnace station was located along it.

1856 Warren Railroad bed seen to right

The town was originally called Oxford Furnace, because the settlement at the corner of Brass Castle Road and present day Route 519 originally held that distinction. That town was renamed Hazen, and the little town of Pittengerville between Oxford Furnace and Hazen was simply annexed into the newly dubbed Oxford we know today.
The original 1856 grade joined the later permanent alignment on the section that is now parallel with Lower Denmark Road, so we didn't actually walk by that site.

1856 Warren Railroad approaching where it crossed present day 31

It went out behind the Shippen Manor on the hillside (the finest example I know of a colonial ironmaster's house), then weaved in back of the Oxford Furnace (the first of the hot blast furnaces, and third mined iron furnace in the US, built in 1741). It then weaved back on what is now Academy Street. That road was built on the right of way after it's abandonment. It then weaves back on the slope of West Oxford Mountain and can be seen from Route 31 where I pointed it out to everyone.

1856 Warren Railroad went right here

I also pointed out the Oxford Iron Mines Railroad, which crossed 31 just north of there, and can be seen where the fire department is today. Another railroad, the Pohatcong Railroad, was owned by Thomas Edison and headed up to his quarry also in the area near Lower Denmark Road.
We walked along the highway section heading up hill into Van Nest Gap, and we could see from afar where the line would have crossed the road.

1856 Warren Railroad went right about where the Welcome to Oxford sign is

On the east side of 31, the old railroad grade can be seen out in the trees pretty easily, as well as some fill refuse we understand to be from the tunnel construction.
We continued to the big vacant lot and the "Welcome to Oxford" sign, which is about where the original railroad bed passed through. In this section, there used to be an archery store building on the left side of Rt 31, but it had just been demolished. I was actually surprised when I saw it was gone the week before. It's another of those things I never got a photo of, because it was sort of understood that it would always be there.

Above the tunnel

The old railroad bed is obliterated along the highway just ahead, as it was widened out over it. Tunnel Hill Road branches off to the east just ahead, and soon becomes perfectly level because it was built on the original rail bed. It continues along that road and then follows Jost Drive, a private driveway, before weaving out through fields and curving back toward the later alignment south of the tunnel.
We soon descended toward the cut at the east portal of the tunnel. Lerch and I discussed a plan at this point; we certainly couldn't leave such an interesting tunnel completely out of the hike. Even on the first hike, we didn't go through the tunnel, but we backtracked to it.

Oxford Tunnel

Lerch had shown me a few years back that there was a little tunnel above the mouth of the eat portal that could either be entered from the inside or from above. This time, we would go into it from above.

Climbing down

It's not really easy to go through this way, because climbing down inside the tunnel is a bit sketchy, especially after drinking.
We managed to climb down, and when the very few of us that were going to go through were there, we followed Lerch on through next to the top of the tunnel mouth.
The section above the tunnel is very wet; water coming down on us all the time, and there's really no doing this and staying clean. I somehow by some miracle managed to keep my suit and tie I wore clean for the hike, until this point. It was a mess from then on.

Tunnel

Lerch went down first and helped all of us down from above, and we walked out of the tunnel easily. We walked on out, and some of the group had already gone ahead.

Tunnel

Those that waited up for us were at a little foundation on the left side of the grade after coming out of the tunnel cut. The rail bed then goes out onto a bit of a fill heading south, through a corner of Mansfield Township, and then into Washington Township.

1856 Warren Railroad bed

It was pretty easy to walk the grade until we got to the at-grade farm crossing, but then it got pretty overgrown. The section is state park owned, but not maintained. It has an old farm overpass along the way, which shows how it was raised in height as locomotives got bigger. This was the toughest section of the right of way to get through.
Where the farm overpass is, I pointed out to the left where we could see where the original 1856 grade begins to descend.

John Willever shroud pictured from his memorial service

I had looked over this area exhaustingly over the years to try to find the actual right of way, and my old buddy Bode and I walked through it once in 2001 specifically in search of this section. We later walked it with John Willever, one of the foremost experts on the historic Delaware, Lackawanna, and Western Railroad. Sadly, he passed away in the past year since the last hike.
He worked for the railroad following in the footsteps of his father and grandfather, and later ascended to Supervisor of Right of Ways for NJ DOT. Mr. Willever's legacy will live on through the historic railroad archives he saw fit to collect and preserve, some of which are presented in this journal entry.
That 1856 grade makes it's way gradually down hill from the area around the farm overpass to the permanent grade, and we even had to go over and walk on it to circumnavigate some of the many fallen trees. This section was particularly rough, and will be nearly impassable come the Summer time.

The bridge on Jackson Valley; photo by Matt Davidson

We continued across the culvert through which passes the Pohatcong Creek, and then reached Jackson Valley Road. The bridge is missing there, having been torn out in the mid 1980s.

From this point, the hike got so much tougher. Usually when we do this, we end up losing a lot of the group, and this was no exception. No one wants to walk through the weeds ahead.

Draught House Party

Even the old ATV path that led up to the grade is getting difficult to pass through. Once up on the other side, only a short bit of it is even really passable.

Draught House party

The grade then erodes away to where there's a deep cut full of water right up the center. If this section were ever to be opened as a trail, it would require some very serious remediation. Still, I managed to jump down into it and walk through. Much of the intrepid group still continued with me and bullied through the mess of thorns and mud.
The right of way remained a mess all the way to where the path used to come through from Warren Hills High School. Tea Biscuit was watching the time and reminded me that it was getting very close to 7 pm.

Draught House party

We had been planning to have some sort of party, the Annual Hikers Hootenanny, for months. In the past, it always used to be at my house in Port Colden, and then we had it at White Lake, followed by where my house used to be in Port Colden as campfire parties on other occasions. We had it at Jagerstein Biergarten, and at Scotty's Stadium Pub in the past.
This time there was snow on the ground a few days before, and I knew we couldn't park everyone in Port Colden in those conditions. I didn't know what to do, and was just kind of turned off by the entire thing.

Draught House Party

Fortunately, Kellie Kegan took the reigns at this point and started making some calls.
The previous year, we were going to have our event at the Draught House, a realy great bar in Washington with tons of room. Dave English, the owner, is a client of my grandfather and friend of my brother, and so I spoke to him about doing it.
When I thought that was going to work out, his manager was going to charge us over $700 for room rental even before the cost of dinners.

Jello Shots!

That just wouldn't do because we couldn't afford it, so we abandoned the idea. When Kellie called up, she was able to work some sort of miracle for us and we were able to do it. They gave us a far bigger room than we actually needed.
It ended up being a really nice time, and was kind of low key. I think that's more what I wanted this time than some sort of over the top thing. Those are fun to have, and I'll look forward to having stuff like that when we have our own space to have it.

JAMES!

Brittany offered also for us to go to her house afterwards, and she had made some great jello shots, so many in the group did that as well.
From Draught House to there, we had some nice conversations, sang a couple songs, and ate some great food.
I can only hope as the years go by that I will feel as youthful and exuberent as I do now. I honestly had an easier time walking this 21 years later than I had on my seventeenth birthday. I know one day that I might burn out a bit, injur myself to where I'm incapable, but I hope that's in the very distant future. I can't begin to express how rewarding an experience this has been for me.

Hangin out

I'm so glad I'd taken the path I did in life and not followed the canned "path to success" insisted upon by the education system.
I spend my time in adventure with intelligent and supportive people of good character. I wouldn't want it any other way.

Ham