Hike #1131; White Lake to Columbia

Hike #1131; White Lake to Columbia

5/26/18 White Lake to Columbia with Joe Tag, Alyssa Lidman, Tea Biscuit (Scott Helbing), Amanda Lance, Cory Salvesen, Linda Salvesen, Ellie Zabeth, Kralc Leahcim (Lerch), Captain Soup (David Campbell), Jennifer Berndt, Jacob Helbing, Annika Krystyna, Daniel Trump, Justin Gurbisz, Brittany Audrey, and Jillane Becker.

This next hike would be another point to point, a route that I’d done before, but has seen a log of changes. I figured it would be a good one for a warm weather night hike.

Ridge and Valley Trail

I’ve loved White Lake since my first visits back in the earlier 2000s. Bob Canase and the Ridge and Valley Conservancy started developing the Ridge and Valley Trail through the property to eventually connect with the Appalachian Trail, and I led my first group hike through it probably back in 2007 I think. We had found the Ridge and Valley Trail by accident. I returned again in 2008, on Captain Soup’s first hike with me, and we walked right by Mrs. Wiseman’s house, which would later end up my own residence.

Ridge and Valley Trail

Over the next couple of years, I discovered how much I loved Camp Ken Etiwa Pec, and other places along the Ridge and Valley route, so I did a series of hikes in the area.
Then, after my tragic fire in 2010, and thanks to Warren County Department of Land Preservation and the county Freeholders, I was put up in the White Lake house as caretaker for two years. During that time I maintained a lot of the property and developed new trail sections. It was a fantastic time, and I was working for the state nearby a lot of it.

The old lime kiln on Ridge and Valley Trail

Jillane and I had to move out after the couple of years, but I’m still very thankful to have had the opportunity to help with the future of the site. It’s an amazing property.

Roots at the old girl scout camp lodge site

I met the group in Columbia, at the New Jersey side of the Portland-Columbia Footbridge, where the covered bridge used to be. I had gone to this spot after all the Sunday Water Gap hikes with my grandfather growing up, and my first hike with what would become Metrotrails started at this point as well.
Once everyone reached that point, we piled into as few vehicles as we could and shuttled toward White Lake.
I didn’t want to park at the lake itself, because there is no late parking. Instead, we’d go a little up the road to one of the fish and game lots I knew of, where Ridge and Valley Trail entered White Lake Wildlife Management Area, adjacent to the county land.

The old girl scout camp chimney

The county’s White Lake Natural Resource Area is just on the south side of Stillwater Road, while the state owns the land on the north side.
Some of the Ridge and Valley Trail has been rerouted. There was no sign of where it went into the woods really at the parking lot when we got there to the north. Also, the blazes, which were slate markers hammered to the trees, were all gone in the section south back to the county land. Fortunately, I knew the way to go anyway.
We walked from the start out of the lot and into an old farm lane parallel with Stillwater Road, which emerged into an open field still in cultivation.
We turned right and stepped over the guide rail on Stillwater Road, then crossed directly into the county land on the much clearer trail.
Just after arriving, Tea Biscuit and Amanda fell back because my other brother Bobo was dropping off my young nephew Jacob. Once we were all together, we started walking down the trail to the south. We passed by the blue trail which is part of the perimeter. This first bit was started by the girl who was the first Nature Conservancy land steward, but not finished.

The Marl Works

Shortly after I moved in, I completed the trail between the main parking lot and the Ridge and Valley Trail, but after I’d gotten it opened, the official land steward at the time, Alan Barlow, came in and marked it himself with stupid arrow markers hammered all the way in, after I had told him specifically to wait for me, we would do it together.

The Marl Works

It pissed me off honestly that he went and did that, especially when I was trying to help him with the job around there. It was as if he was taking credit for my work. He did extend the blue trail to the barn on the other side of the property, and worked on a red trail as well, but he did a lot of shady things.
I told him those blazes should be removed, or at the very least drawn back so the trees have room to grow. After a year and a half, he never did any of it. In fact, he was almost never there. He was always in Chester. When I was unemployed for a month, he never showed up at the property even once.

At the Marl Works

I had actually never even met him until I was already living there over six months. I appreciated some of the things he did, but I was getting burnt up when I was doing work all the time and bringing in volunteers, and he wasn’t around. When I took it upon myself to remove all of his old arrow blazes and then re-marked the entire trail with standard paint blazes, I put the ones I removed on a post at the end of my driveway.
In a meeting that week with Department of Land Preservation, I told him I’d left the blazes for him to retrieve at the end of the driveway on the post, and he looked me in the eye and said “Nope, I got ‘em”. I responded “No...you didn’t. They’re still there”. He just smiled and said again “No, I got ‘em”. I thought just maybe he did.

Marl Works ruins

When I got back to the house that night and the blazes were still there on the post, right where I left them, and thought of how he knowingly just lied in the meeting for all to hear, looking as if to say “What are you gonna do about it?”. Things got worse when I had hikes ending at the house, and had an after party. They were true “programs”, but when he had a “program” it reportedly ended up being a party with his friends taking far more scandalous illegal substances than the drinks I had at anything I hosted.
I kept my mouth shut about it for a couple of years because I didn’t want it to sound like sour grapes, and I still haven’t divulged all of the information about him to this day.

Marl Works

I had always thought from the start that Ridge and Valley Conservancy, who had been involved from the start, and oversaw the trail plan, should manage the property. The Nature Conservancy was just not fit to be maintaining it, and all of their other preserves we’ve visited had deplorable maintenance, so they don’t have a good land management resume. When leadership changed over at the county level, it was delighted to hear of RVC taking over. Over the past few years, they’ve done what I consider to be an outstanding job with property management, and have vastly improved upon the place.

Ridge and Valley Trail at the Marl Works

We headed through the property on an old woods road section, now Ridge and Valley Trail, to where there was once a cabin. The trail then continued as a foot path up and down over the signature ridges and valleys to the south. We passed the green trail which goes to the cabin I used to live in, and then crossed over the edge of the wetland, or “fen” at the east side of the lake. There is an old lime kiln here that collapsed shortly after I moved in at the site. We had hoped to get it stabilized, but couldn’t get things together fast enough.

The old railroad spur

We climbed a slope on the other side where the trail turned right and followed rather level terrain into an area that was once an old girl scout camp. Out in the woods here, it is possible to find old chimneys. One in particular is quite huge, where reportedly the mess hall once stood.
The building had collapsed we assume, or part of it was rubble on the site for many years, because the tree roots all around the area grow funny. They protrude and stick up in the air, and look as if they had grown that way on top of deteriorating wood, which has long since vanished.
We took a little break at this point, regrouped, and I told everyone some of the history.

Old Spring Valley Road, now Ridge and Valley Trail.

From this point, the trail continued on, and a new white blazed trail broke off to the left. I had not hiked this one yet, but I plan to do it on a future trip, maybe soon.
We continued on until we got to the ruins of the Marl Works, a stone castle type structure on the south shore of the lake.
The Marl Works was a processing plant for the limestone based sediments. The industry dredged these sediments off the base of White Lake, then they were hauled away by railroad to Newark where it was used to neutralize their sewer systems.

Paulins Kill dip

“Marl” is the limestone based sediment, and it is composed of ancient ground up shellfish. In fact, if you take a hand full of the soil around the Marl Works, you’ll see tiny shells still among it.
We walked around the site, and I pointed out some of the operation, including some of the remnants of docks or something. The stacks that used to protrude through the roof of the building are collapsed and within the foundations today.
This area was also the site of frustration for me, because there were naturally growing American Chestnuts within the ruins of the Marl Works, but the former land steward came in and sprayed them all with Garlon 5, the most horrible kind of “Roundup” weed killer made.

Paulins Kill

When I told him what they were, he insisted they were Beech trees, but I showed them to my forester co worker who agreed that they were indeed American Chestnut. Another major fail for the site.
We walked around the outside of the place, and Ridge and Valley Conservancy had installed some really nice split rail fencing to keep people from walking out onto the Marl Beds, but they did it at such a point that we can still get the view across to the Vass House, the historic farm house and Hardwick Historical Society headquarters.

Jacob with an old mile marker

I gave everyone the history of the Marl Works and industrial ice house complex before we began moving along the trail.
The trail went across the outflow of White Lake, then continued onto the old spur line that used to lead to the main New York, Susquehanna, and Western Railroad built in this area in 1881.
I stopped everyone again where the trail emerged on Spring Valley Road. At this point, the road and the railroad sort of traded places after the spur was abandoned. The road used to switch back a bit more, while the railroad continued where the road is today. Ridge and Valley Trail follows the former road route just a little ahead, and across an old bridge over the White Lake outflow.

Nearing Paulina on the rail bed

The railroad cut was partially blasted away for the newer road alignment, and the original road is apparently now used as part of the Ridge and Valley Trail’s connection to the Paulins Kill Valley Trail. This new bit is only a couple of years old. It leads into the woods across from the next intersection, goes over a bridge, then switches back down to the former site of the Marksboro train station. Today, that site is now the parking lot for Paulins Kill Valley Trail. We turned right here to follow the rail trail to the west.

Paulins Kill at Paulina

It’s a very nice section between Marksboro and Paulina, right along the river much of the time. I watched for a good spot to go off of the trail and cool down in the water. We ended up finding a pretty good path down to the water, where most of us went in.
My nephew Jacob really loved it and it was kind of hard to get him to get out and continue moving. We eventually went, and we crossed over the Paulins Kill on an old girder bridge. I pointed out the old mile markers that denoted distance to Jersey City along the way.

Paulins Kill at Paulina

When we got to the Paulina Dam, which I consider to be the most beautiful dam in Warren County, we walked down the road to get a better look at it.

Paulina Dam

There was a plan to remove this one years ago, because it was so old and considered a liability, but nothing came of it.
It would be a major deal because the railroad was built after the pool behind it already existed, so the change in river turbulation could theoretically wash out the railroad bridge abutments up stream.

On the rail bed

We made our way from here back up to the railroad bed and continued west toward Blairstown.
While walking, I was several steps behind Jacob, who kept making constant high pitched silly sounds. It got to be pretty funny, because he just never tired of doing it. It went on pretty much the entire time out to Blairstown.
We passed beneath the Rt 94 bridge and entered Footbridge Park, which was our next break spot. From here, most of us crossed over the river on the big foot bridge to make a pit stop.

PKV Trail and an old mile marker

Dale’s Market is right on the other side, which is a great little mom and pop type of grocery store. I went there pretty much every day while I was living at White Lake.
I actually forget exactly what I got. I think I got a chocolate milk, and maybe a sandwich but just not sure any more.
Tea Biscuit got some sort of freezy thing to drink, which we poured Traveler’s Club into before moving on. We then made our way back over to the foot bridge and crossed into the park for a little break.
The foot bridge itself is also historic, a gift to the town from it’s namesake, John I. Blair.

John I. Blair plaque

There was a plaque on the bridge that read “Presented to the citizens of Blairstown and vicinity by Hon. John I. Blair on his 91st Birthday.”
Blair owned a store earlier in town, when it was known as Gravel Hill, and he became the postmaster. As his success grew, Blair was owner of more railroad mileage in America than anyone else. The town was renamed in his honor, and the original footbridge was built in 1877 to reach the station for the then new Blairstown Railroad. That railroad terminated at Blairstown from the Lackawanna Railroad station in Delaware NJ.

The foot bridge and station in 1900

The New York, Susquehanna, and Western took over in 1881 and extended the line to Jersey City, as well as into Pennsylvania.

The foot bridge second to last time I crossed it

The old wooden bridge that was there from 1877 was falling into disrepair, and Blair funded the construction of the metal bridge because it was so important for the people walking from the town to the station. The station is long gone, but the bridge is holding up well.

At Dale's

It was starting to get dark, and so I used the opportunity of having everyone all together for probably the last time to get a group photo.
We moved on along the old right of way from here to the west, through nice woods. It got pretty dark by the time we got to the next crossing, the former site of Kalarama Station, where the Blairstown Airport is today.
The Kalarama Station met a weird fate. It was loaded onto a train to take it to the next station, Vail. Something happened to that station, and Kalarama was decided not to be needed any more, so they tried moving it over to Vail. Unfortunately, the station fell off the train before arriving at it’s destination. The station was supposedly moved around the 1890s, and so when a photographer got some photos of other area stations in 1906, the Kalarama structure was already gone. As far as I know, there are no existing photographs of the station.
At the intersection, we met up with Jillane and Dan Trump. Dan had wanted to come earlier, but he often gets stuck doing things for work or whatever, but tries to make it when he can.

The group

The group was already separating, and we continud ahead where the trail officially skirts the south side of the Blairstown Airport. The track site is now taken over by some of the runways.

The group

We walked around the outside, and I tried to hold off so that we didn’t lose anyone when we got ot the far side of the airport. There are side paths that go out and around Lake Susquehanna, which used to be a swimming beach community aea.
We got back on the railroad bed, and continued out to Gwinup Road, another former grade crossing. We sat down here and waited for others to catch up. Tea Biscuit, Amanda, and Jacob all cut out here. I think my other brother came and picked them up, but at the previous crossing. I had Tea Biscuit’s freezy strong drink, and Jillane finished it. She also took my bottle of beer from me somewhere at this point.

Historic image of Vail Station

It’s less than half a mile from Gwinup Road to Vail Road where the next station used to be. Jillane told me to go ahead here, but even before we got to Vail Station, she texted me that she was turning back to her car. The rest of us continued on across Vail Road.

Historic image of Vail Station

We continued from here through woods and farm lands, across a driveway, and then across Cristman Road. It’s a really pleasant section that soon comes up along side the Paulins Kill again. The trail closely parallels Kill Road, then moves into a dark and secluded section to come out at Station Road in Hainesburg.

Paulins Kill Viaduct during 1910 construction

From here, the railroad bed and Station Road are sort of one for a bit. It was right along the street as we headed to the former station site, almost under the Paulins Kill Viaduct.

Moonlight

We passed beneath, and then got into the woods beyond. I was thinking we would stop and swim under the bridge, which is a spot I’ve always liked, but no one was into it. They just wanted to get finished. By this time, Lerch had hurried ahead super speed, because he was feeling kind of sick. Typically people slow down when they feel sick, but I suppose for a ridiculously tall guy it works the other way.
We reached Hainesburg Junction, and I pointed out where the Lehigh and New England Railroad broke off to the right. It’s easy to make a wrong turn here if you don’t know where you’re going, so I wanted to be sure everyone got past this site.
We moved from here on out to Bruglar Road, which is another problem spot where a private land owner tries to shut off the trail. We turned left on the road rather than try to bushwhack through the next piece, which hasn’t been cleared as the trail in some time. It was a lot easier to do this than to try to bully on through. We turned right at the next intersection and got back on the rail bed entering Columbia Lake Wildlife Management Area.
The lake has been subject of a controversial dam removal plan. I spoke out for it’s removal because it’s terribly unhealthy and stinky, and dams are jus not good to have at the bottom of a tributary due to the filtration needed in rivers for sewage release and cesspools.

https://www.youtube.com/embed/TkIoLJ3xLzk

One of the reasons for doing this hike was to see the dam one last time before it’s gone. The removal is happening in stages, and this would be the last time we’d see the lake full of water.

1910 image of the construction of the Columbia Lake Dam\

It would also possibly be the last time we'd be able to hike through this area as we know it at all.
The railroad bed follows the south shore of Columbia Lake to a certain point, and then is somewhat overtaken by Interstate 80. We have to go to the left through a giant pipe under 80, then resume the railroad bed heading west along the lake. When the lake is emptied, it is thought that the pressure on the pipe underpasses may be no good, and they'll need to be replaced. So, they have now closed off the trail in this section. It used to be that we could drive a car right through the pipe, but that is now no longer allowed. Who knows if they will remove them or what.

Historic image of Columbia Lake Dam

We passed through the pipe, went by the dam, and then continued on the trail beyond. We cut to the left away from the rail bed briefly, onto a likely former quarry spur, then returned to it along the back yard of a house near to Rt 46. We turned right and crossed the Paulins Kill on the Rt 46 bridge, the route of the Liberty-Water Gap Trail, and then descended on the sidewalk thing down under the same bridge. The earlier dam, which is purged out, was still in place just up stream from this point.

Historic news article showing both the power house and original dam that were abandoned after 1901, as well as the covered bridge and my great grandmother's home, where she lived as a border with the Evans family.

The original power house is gone today, but it was abandoned shortly after it's construction, when a 1901 flood hit it. It was never used, and the original dam was broken at that time. This is one of the arguments I make regarding the 1910 dam that replaced it: if the original one was destroyed even before being used, during a flood that wasn't even as famous as others, how can we trust the current one? Any dam is a liability, and there is very little recreational benefit associated with the remaining Columbia Lake dam. They plan on tearing out the remnangs of the older dam too, but I kind of wish they'd leave that in. It's a really cool looking remnant.
We headed under the bridge and then up onto Rt 46 back to where we were parked at the foot bridge to finish out the hike.
We’ll visit the area again soon, and everything will certainly be much different.