Hike #893; Jersey Perimeter Finale - Roebling to Trenton

Hike #893; Jersey Perimeter Finale - Roebling to Trenton

11/8/15 Roebling to Trenton with my grandfather, Eldon Allen, Matthew Davis, Shelly Janes, Jennifer Berndt, Dan Lurie, Serious Sean Dougherty, Jack Lowry, John Huber, Sandy Westerman, Tanner Zack, Jessica M. Collins, Commando Tom Petruccio, Laura Allen Cunningham, Amanda Murphy, Fred Fritz Hafele, Jas Kumpikevicius, Robert Gearhardt, Megan Reid, Jason Itell, Colin Webb, Rich Pace, Eric Pace, Joe Tag, Glenn ?, Kenneth Lidman, Jimmy Mathews (Mr. Buckett), Beth Dillenbeck, Seth Gollhardt, Jessica Dorton, James Delotto, Bobbi Landrock, Stephen Argentina, Steven Smith, Tom Vorrius, Ted Wright, Sue Olivar, Craig Nunn, Cory Salveson, Linda Whiteford, Lara Nycum, Nicola James-Addison, Michael Darmody, Pete Wilcox, Lyz Hagenbuch, Ric Giantisco, German M, Edward DiSalvo, Gail Ingham, Al MacLennan, Angela Giunta Williamson, Dan Asnis, Ron Stevenson, Erika Lorin Daniels, Eric Fay, Russ Nelson, David Dech, Norman ?, Justin Gurbisz, James Quinn, Tamara Sapilak, Yie Chen, Rob Creamer, Mike Heaney, Mark Norman, Ryan Novosielski, Kim Palumbo, Carla ?, Irina Kulikovksaya, Kathryn Cataldo, Sean Congdon, “Snoop Dougie K” (Doug Kiovsky), Sarah Jones, Lerch (Kralc Leahcim), and ?.

Giving a circle talk at the start; photo by Rich Pace

This hike would be the largest event I had ever organized. It was one I’d been anticipating for years. One that I thought might never happen. One that I’d both looked forward to at times and dreaded as obligatory at others. Months and years had gone into the planning of the Jersey Perimeter series, and it was finally coming to a conclusion.
Of course, this was a big deal. It would be the first time anyone had ever circumnavigated the entire state of New Jersey by foot. I had painstakingly planned every step of the way, sometimes to an obsessive degree. I had to be sure I was REALLY accomplishing everything I’d said.

Map with the final leg missing to Trenton, what was completed is in black lines.

Throughout the course of the previous week I went over the whole thing in my head; how this had started, where I’d been, where I was going.
None of this seemed like that big a deal even a year ago. Now I would literally be making history. What would I say? How can I possibly express how I feel about all of this? The coming event was becoming more and more real every day. I had done at least fifteen miles Saturday, Sunday, Tuesday, and Thursday leading up to this event. The pressure was real.
I tried not to think too hard about what I would say to my group. These were all my friends, and I would speak to them as such, from the heart. I would say what I mean to say on any of these hikes, which I do for the same reasons I started doing them nearly nineteen years ago.
It always happens that my mind goes back to the values I was instilled with early on, and the tradition I carry on, which I had not always illustrated so clearly to the group.
As most everyone has heard at this point, my grandfather started me off hiking at the age of three, with a hike from his house to the Point Mountain Bridge. It turned into a tradition every Sunday. That tradition did not begin with me, but with at least two generations before. My Great Grandfather, George Prall Allen used to take my grandfather, his siblings, and cousins for hikes every Sunday, and then he did the same with his own kids, my mother and two aunts.
When I was born, my grandfather, Eldon Allen, took me hiking all over New Jersey and Pennsylvania. He taught me about the canals and railroads, and of the vast network of trails. I had a million questions, and he was always happy to answer whatever he could. If he did not know the answer, or noted an interest I had, he bought me a book about it. When I was in Kindergarten, my favorite book was the Peterson Field Guide to Trees.

My grandfather and I hiking in Dunnfield Creek, 1985.

As the years went by, we brought our neighbors kids, and then my cousin Tanner got old enough to come along. Next, my cousin Colleen, and my brothers Alex and Tea Biscuit were both out every weekend.
When my grades were poorer in school, it was always assumed that my mind was off on the trail instead of in class, and they were probably right. I’ve always been a daydreamer, and the experiences were too sweet not to linger. They still are.

My grandfather with six grandchildren, hiking near Millbrook Village, 1990

The Sunday hikes grew to where seven grandchildren were out on the trails. I was given maps of the areas and allowed to choose which trails I wanted to explore. My long list would always grow longer.
I continued with this tradition, covering up to 13.75 miles in a day at one point. At the end of that hike, at the age of ten, I said I could do another twelve more.
For my sixteenth birthday, I had the idea that rather than a party, I wanted to gather my closest friends to hike the entire Warren Railroad, a twenty mile distance from Delaware Water Gap area home. Unfortunately, I could not procure a ride that far, and instead had a hike across my home town with my friends. I was determined for my next birthday that I would take on the hike I wanted to do.

Hike #1 group: Shayne, Eric, Andrew, Derek, Conrad, and Jenna

On March 23rd, 1997, my 17th birthday, I got my wish and six friends and I were dropped off in Columbia NJ to make the trek back home. Conrad said it was the second best birthday party he’d ever been to (next to his own of course). The hike was spoken of all over school to the point it was suggested we do it again...and again...and again.
My grandfather helped me to scale distances using his USGS maps, and I would go back to him saying “I need another hike. Can we look at your maps?”.

We would go to his drafting table, which had drawers full of USGS quadrangles, and we would come up with various routes ending at my home in Port Colden. He gave me a Warren County Road map, which I still have today, to use for my first hikes. I began drawing my own because I couldn’t find maps that showed what I wanted them to.
Time went by, we got our drivers’ licenses and cars, and we started doing more hikes that connected to these ones I had started with.
When I was little, I like many others dreamed of hiking the entire Appalachian Trail, until I realized that it’s the same goal every hiker seems to have. I realized that every one of these people simply have a different version of the same story, and I wanted something more.
By 2000, my mission was to connect every hike I do with another hike I had done, and to see how far I could get in a lifetime. I covered entire routes of historic railroads and canals, trails, or anywhere interesting enough for me to justify walking. There were countless little milestones, and one of the biggest was the day I reached the first views of the open ocean at Perth Amboy. I started an effort to follow the NJ coast as closely as possible.
Since that time, I have covered a staggering 15,000 contiguous miles, of which the NJ Perimeter is part. I realized on the way that I was getting very close to having walked the entire perimeter of New Jersey, and so about three years ago I decided to dedicate at least one hike per month to that series until I had completed it.
Once the media took hold of it, I was appearing in newspapers all over the state including The Express Times, Star Ledge, Warren Reporter, The SandPaper, Rails to Trails Newletter, and many more.
http://www.railstotrails.org/trailblog/2014/october/10/meet-mike-helbing-new-jersey-native-urban-explorer-lifetime-hiker/
The media attention and nods by other non profit organizations helped me to forge new lasting friendships that would have a huge impact on my life. The periodicals led way to television spots, rocketing the popularity of the series beyond the scope of what I’d ever imagined it would be.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p4xKpHSqBVM
Fox’s Chasing News, NJN, and METV were among the stations I appeared on. It was so strange for me being recognized in convenience stores from all the media attention.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IgYRsTja6LU
I even did a talk show for the first time. It feels like this has come to a new level.
I was especially glad to have my grandfather there with me for this final leg of the long journey. It was not the first time he had come out and done the long hikes with me, but it was the first time in quite a while. He had told me about two years prior that he wanted to be on that final hike in the series with me.
At 81 years of age, I was even more inclined to finish this. I wanted so much for him to be there at the end of my accomplishment. Who knows how much longer any of us have in this world. My grandfather is doing very well and still works six days a week, but it was very important to do this while he could still really enjoy it.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3ZC1pGge2GU
Additionally, it was really cool that my cousin Tanner made it out for the first time on one of my hikes. He has the distinction of being the person I have invited out on these things for the longest amount of time before finally coming out on one. Him and his girlfriend picked up my grandfather and drove him down. Somehow, I ended up driving down there by myself, and then Tanner followed me from along Rt 31.
We reached the state parking lot in Trenton a bit later than I was anticipating, but still with enough time. We had to walk from that point to the Hamilton Avenue Light Rail Station for the River Line, and there was of course dilly dallying. I wanted to greet everyone there.
The state police were good enough to give us permission to park in this big lot, as well as to use the state capital building steps for the very end of the hike free of charge.
After a bit, we all started heading over to the light rail station, following Rich Pace’s lead. I was delighted not only to see so many friends, but to see so many of them had arrived in suits like me. I’ve earned quite a reputation for hiking in a suit regularly, and it makes for a very interesting reaction from people along the way.
Some of the group shuttled in cars south to Roebling, and most got on the train. It was fortunate that the train was running fifteen minutes late, because we’d have missed it otherwise and had to wait for the next one.

My grandfather telling a story of my youth to the group

A train came, going the wrong direction, and we almost got on. It probably was the same train, but still heading north. We didn’t know which track the train would end up on, so we sort of stood between to run across as it approached.
The train ride was a typical fun event, with Serious Sean serenading us with guitar, and almost falling out when the train reached it’s next stop and the door opened up.

Serious entertainment on the train ride.

I reminded the group that the train we were riding was that of an historic line: the Camden and Amboy. This was the first civilian passenger railroad in the United States, and the first one to run a locomotive. The John Bull, still on display in the Smithsonian, is still taken out for annual runs. Today’s River Line follows the historic route.
When we arrived at Roebling Station, many more friends were there to greet us. We headed out and up to the parking area to form a big circle.
I addressed the group, and introduced the members of the Metrotrails board. I briefly spoke about the history of the hikes as I described above, and let everyone introduce themselves going around in the circle. Our starting number was 77, matching the largest group I had ever assembled for one hike. We would easily break my attendance record on this one.

Starting group shot

After everyone went around and introduced themselves, my grandfather joined me in the center of the circle to share some memories of when I was little.
He always loves to tell the story of my first time going to the bathroom outside, and how I tried to give him his handkerchief back when I’d finished with it. Shelly presented me with one of those giant mirrors people use at the end of their driveways to do a “group selfie”. The day was starting out in high spirits.
A police cruiser came through the lot, turned around, and left again. They didn’t stop to say hello or anything, but I did talk to them earlier in the week to let them know what was going on. There was even the possibility of them escorting us up Rt 130, but they didn’t come.
We got moving, and headed across the tracks from the station onto Railroad Ave, parallel with the homes and through a grassy park. I didn’t have time to get any breakfast, and had only an Arizona Iced tea to start the day. Amanda Murphy came to my rescue however with absolutely delicious oatmeal chocolate chip cookies that I scarfed down most of immediately.

Roebling NJ

We turned right, and soon headed back direction we had come on Amboy Ave, through a line of cookie cutter brick houses. This was one of NJ’s planned industrial towns. The homes were build specifically for the workers at the Roebling Steel Mill, which was right behind where we got off the train. It was here that John Roeblings Sons had their steel mill to create the cables necessary for their famous bridges, because the didn’t want to pay Bethlehem Steel or other steel manufacturers for their needs. Craig Nunn was there, and he talked about some of the history of the town, and told me how he’d been able to tour a couple of the houses at one point.
I had wanted to tour the Roebling Museum, but we didn’t have the time this time. I would have to do it as part of another hike in the future.
We turned left on Hornberger Ave and followed it past a lovely wetland associated with Crafts Creek, and then reached Rt 130.

Walking Rt 130

I had thought the section along Rt 130 would be the worst of the entire hike. I had gone out and done two scouting trips for this hike ahead of time, not walking it so much, but covering just a bit of it so that I’d know where I would have to go with the group. I could not chance discovering a lot of new ground on this one and have to come back. This one needed to certainly be the end. That did not work out quite as planned.
We crossed the bridge over Crafts Creek, then visited a cemetery on the left side, but after entering we realized we could not get through the gate on the other side, so we had to head back out. Steven found a luggage carrier just over the galvanized rail along the highway and we began pushing it. I put my pack in it for a bit as we walked, as did some others.
We moved further on down the highway, and I was certain that we’d simply follow that until we got to Fieldsboro, where we’d have a section of woods.

"Oh What A Night..."

As we walked the road, someone, I think it might have been Ric, noted a road passing beneath Rt 130. In my scouting, I did not see this route at all. It was completely missed. There was also what appeared to be an interpretive sign down there of some sort. I didn’t know what it was, but I had to look.
It turned out this was the former Kincora Branch Railroad, formerly the Columbus, Kincora, and Springfield Railroad completed in 1838. How could I have missed this? A railroad line I wasn’t aware of? I had been stressing over the final hike so much that in this case I did not consult my railroad atlas like I normally would. I didn’t think there was any need for a significant line running in the area. It turns out, even historians can’t come up with a particularly significant need. Lumber in the pinelands to the east were poor quality and small, and so it probably only brought cut lumber to steamboats active nearby. It later brought people to Camp Dix, later Fort Dix during World War I. The line was abandoned in 1972.
We walked into the culvert, which had some good acoustics, so during this time we sang “December 1963” by the Four Seasons. Once everyone was about down, we moved on along the right of way.

Former Kincora Branch Railroad

I felt a little bit of stress, but also excitement. For all the planning I had done, there was still something new and exciting about this. We all climbed down to the railroad bed, and we checked out the culvert that had been built under Rt 131 at the site, I guess for pedestrians. There wasn’t much sign that this was a rail trail, but it looked as though that would be the intention of it at least in the long term. We walked the right of way west to an open field where the junction used to be with the Camden and Amboy. From there, the ATV path that followed it turned off to the right, then entered the woods again on an old road. I again thought we’d just head back out to Rt 130, but then the temptation of another ATV path to the north proved too strong. We entered the woods and began following an unknown network of ATV paths parallel with the Camden and Amboy and along the Delaware upstream.
There were some concrete ruins interspersed into these woods, but I have no clue what they could have been. I was being asked questions for which I had no answers, and I still can’t find them today.

Stuff

The ATV paths weaved around a lot, and I tried to keep to the ones that remained closest to the river. They weren’t as easy as I thought we’d find. They were going up and down slopes back there, and then came to a very steep spot with a seasonal overlook of the Delaware above the tracks. From there, we followed a last steep slope to the top of a hill and moved on, getting closer to the Mershon Concrete business yard. I was concerned that we’d have to go back, it would not be easy to get around this place, but so much of the group was ahead of me, pushing through.
We reached a bunch of junk sitting back in the woods outside of the concrete place. There was what looked like an old earth mover and some other stuff.

Big Beech

Of course, we had walked through far worse than this before, but this is NOT the way I would tell public to try to walk if they were doing the perimeter of NJ. It was not easy, and not really the reasonable way to go. The path had ended altogether at the piles of junk, and some of the group already disappeared behind it. There were lots of briars I didn’t want to take the group through, so I went back a bit, and found a spot on the slope below that looked more reasonable to walk. Tanner and I helped my grandfather down (not that he really needed it badly, he’s still a full time Land Surveyor out in the field all the time), and we continued on a sort of shelf that was used by ATVs at one time, but had sort of grown in. We managed to pick up a deer trail on the steep slope above the tracks but below Mershon Concrete, then had to climb steeply to the top again near the end of that facility.
When the woods opened up once more, we passed some enormous Beech trees and descended gradually through some woods. Steven was still carrying that cart he had found along 130, even though this was rough woods. We crossed over a small mostly dry stream, and then headed through more level woods until we came out next to the tracks at an access road. I knew where we were at this point. This was some of what I had scouted by myself. We were able to follow the dirt road back out to Rt 130 heading north.
Somewhere in here we were joined by Kat and her boyfriend Sean, who just sort of merged in with the group without my noticing.

You Keep Me Hangin' On

More high spirits prevailed with the return to Rt 130 and easy walking. Jack and Sean played guitar with often awesome harmonies we don’t often hear. It’s uncommon to see one guitar carrying hiker let alone two, and the sound was great. We sang “You Keep Me Hangin’ On” and “Some Kind of Wonderful” during the road section here. We passed by a motel along the way, walked partially through the parking lot, and eventually turned off to the left when we got to Burlington Road. We cut through a construction site to emerge at an apartment complex where we regrouped again.

Off of Burlington Road

While we waited, we did “Maybe I’m Amazed”, and by the time we were done with that, everyone was there. There was a portajohn I think which we gave people time to use nearby. We climbed stairs to the rear of the apartments, of course the closest we could get to the perimeter without being on the railroad tracks, and made our way around the back of the building.
We came out on Burlington Road after crossing a section of grass again and followed the nice sidewalk along the edge into the village of Fieldsboro. There were nice side streets to walk there, and Carla managed to find us there and join. She parked her car on street, and we regrouped again at a street corner, with more singing and hanging around. Some guy working in his back yard was moving dead leaves and such. Someone said if he had more rakes we’d help him, but he seemed more interested in ignoring us than anything else. There was also one or two others who joined us in this area, but they merged with the group so fast I was hardly able to notice them joining! We did have one car follow us around, stop, turn around, etc.

Along the Delaware in Fieldsboro

The closest street to the perimeter was Front Street, which we followed through more of the town heading northeast. It was a pleasant little village, and people were interested on what we were doing. DeLotto, always friendly with everyone, took the time to explain to people what was going on. Some women on some sort of a church porch were outside asking what was going on as well.
We passed a large ball field on the right, and there were views across the Delaware on the left us us as we walked.
Near the end of the road, an abandoned road continued into the woods. I had come and scouted this ahead of time by myself.

Dressed for success, like The Great Gatsby

When I was scouting, I met a middle aged man named Steve who lived in the last house from the old road. He had told me that he used to be able to walk all the way into Bordentown before the River Line was opened, when it was only freight. He seemed to think we could still get through, but I knew that an old stat property had been turned into a sort of juvenile detention center, and that getting through would be hard, as well as very illegal. I had found another route around.

Abandoned

We headed into the woods, down hill on the old road, and passed the ruins of an abandoned building on the left. It wasn’t a whole lot to see, so I didn’t take the time to go and look around in it. We reached the bottom of the hill, and then an ATV trail continued to the right. I had done a ton of scouting down in this area to figure out how we could get through, and I found my way to an old road that used to continue back up to Burlington Street at the Fieldsboro border. There was even a brown gate on it that looked like a park gate. The woods road got a little weedy when we got to this point, but we managed to get through without a problem.
Mark Normal had already put together a strange bouquet on his had as he always does, this time with fall foliage.
We reached Burlington Street and took a break on the wall so that everyone could get out of the woods. I was worried that my grandfather and cousin had not made it through, so I went back looking. They had lost the woods road and ended up going up the hill a bit, then reached the road at a different spot.
We followed the road up hill to the northeast, and near the top we met up with “Snook Dougie K”, or Doug Kiovsky, former planner for the Hunterdon County Parks Department. He joined us from here for a while, having had enough of waiting around outside the state facility and looking like a creeper.
The road through this section was marked as Delaware River Heritage Trail. We only followed it under Rt 295 and across Blacks Creek entering Bordentown. Lerch and Sarah were both working on meeting us in town, and so I tried figuring out streets they could join us on.

Lime Kiln Trail in Bordentown

We regrouped again on the corner of Oliver Street, then made a hard turn on Lime Kiln Alley. From here, we would take the Lime Kiln Trail, a short trail that goes down hill along Blacks Creek and then back up to the streets of town. I had done some scouting and thought I knew where I was going in this area, but once again we found some extra stuff I hadn’t counted on.
The trail reached a parking area and we went by some giant blocks along the road. Doug said he didn’t know why they called it Limekiln Trail because there were no lime kilns in sight on it. I could only guess that maybe the rocks along the way could have been put there from a dismantled kiln. The trail went along the creek and then through some open woods to an intersection of an old road.
The official trail as per the map at the entrance went to the right, but we turned left on a good wide path to an open meadow. I kept to the right. closer to Blacks Creek, but then reached where nothing continued on except for a foot path. The foot path went into woods and reached an interesting old railroad trestle, apparently an old coal trestle from a coal plant of sorts that used to be there.

Oldest railroad culvert in America

The foot path came out on the active freight railroad tracks, a former branch of the Camden and Amboy line, directly across from the Bordentown train station parking area. This was perfect. We kept closer to the perimeter and ended up right in the parking area. I had to call Sarah and Lerch and let them know that we’d done something unexpected so they could come and meet us.
To the right, we could see the oldest railroad culvert underpass in America. The old masonry structure still carries Prince Street over the tracks. While taking photos, we could see Lerch and Sarah walking across it. I was watching for them coming down the road from there, but then they ended up coming down the tracks anyway. I was very happy to see Lerch showed up in a suit as well, a nice dark one I’d not seen him hiking in yet.
We moved on from here out of the parking lot, then down beneath the former Camden and Amboy Tracks we had ridden in on, and to the Bordentown Beach lot.
The rich history of this area includes Point Breeze, the former home of Joseph Bonaparte’s, brother of Napoleon, who was a resident. Sadly, much of Bonaparte’s estate was sold off, and all but one of the buildings destroyed.

Bordentown Beach park

We kept to the left when we got down to the waterfront, and walked along Blacks Creek to it’s confluence with the Delaware. The Rt 295 bridge loomed over our heads, with Crosswicks Creek making it’s larger confluence with the Delaware here. We kept to the waterfront over to the dock and boat launch where we took a longer break. A lot of hikers got out on the dock, and Lerch suggested I do a group photo there. I told him if the whole group were on that, we’d sink it. With only maye fifteen or so out there, it was already sinking! There is food nearby in Bordentown, but it would take forever to accommodate a group of our size, so I chose to keep everyone down below town mostly, on the perimeter itself.

Funny magazine cover photo created by Matt Davis

There was another porta john there, and so it took forever to get people through it. Whenever there is a restroom, it takes everyone forever to use. With a group of twenty, a restroom break can take over an hour with people waiting in line. It didn’t take us quite that long, but it was definitely a long time. Serious Sean headed out to the bridge thinking that he might have lost us, and eventually called me back to be sure we didn’t go on. I’m told apparently that Grant Tamutus joined us here somewhere by bike, but I must have missed him!
Jason was pretty quickly in the water. It was not really a hot day, nor cold, but definitely too cold for most to be in the water. I waded in to about my crotch and wandered around. It actually felt pretty good to me. It most certainly made for some interesting photos! Matt came up with a hilarious magazing cover one later on.
Eventually we were all ready to go. We walked back up the same roadway we had come on to get down, then continued up Park Street to a left on Prince Street. We regrouped again once more when we got there, in front of the Thomas Payne Statue.

The group at Bordentown Beach

There was a little outlook of the Crosswicks Creek here, and kids playing around in the street. People must have thought we looked nuts. Police did a pass by when we were below, but none stopped to talk to us. I had also talked to Bordentown City Police about our event, and they were all cool with it.
Kat and Sean left the group somewhere in here, I’m not sure where, to raise hell elsewhere.

Thomas Payne has never been so happy

Erika climbed up into the arms of the Thomas Payne statue for a hilarious photo op until everyone was ready to move on. We turned right here along Courtland Street, then hard left onto Farnsworth Avenue. At the bottom of the hill is the entrance to the south end of the trail into Delaware and Raritan Canal State Park.
A foot bridge had been affixed to the edge of the River Line bridge to get hikers across Crosswicks Creek at this point. The plan here was to separate the group into under twenty at a time, because they require a special use permit to have groups of over twenty in the state parks.
I felt sort of miffed at this point; I work for state park service, and I had done so much to promote their facilities, and yet I would be charged a sixty dollar fee for the event. I found out that we could get a waiver, because I also perform so much volunteer activity, and so we applied for that.
Then, after it looked like all was well, I got a call that I had to have a million dollar insurance policy to run this hike. We’d only be on the canal towpath for about two miles, and yet I had to have this policy?? So many other groups have events in state parks, and almost no hikers get permits, but I was told I had to have it.
I decided to go with the loophole of less than twenty people, but then also realized that I have paperwork in at the State stating that I am a volunteer, and that I run volunteer events. I put this together for trail work trips, and no insurance was requested for this permit. This event was just another volunteer event I was organizing, and so it shouldn’t be required as per the wording.
We crossed the bridge, and on the way I pointed out the southern terminus of the Delaware and Raritan Canal, where it met tidewater on the Delaware, and an abandoned and intentionally sunk canal boat sitting in Crosswicks Creek below the bridge near the canal mouth.

Trail bridge along the River Line, Crosswicks Creek

I specifically pointed it out to my grandfather and to Dave Dech, head planner for Warren County, because we’re so immersed in Morris Canal history. Warren County works closely with the Canal Society of NJ, so anything canal related like this is cool to know about.
The boat in the river was actually from the Schuykill Navigation System, which must have seen it’s last years of service on the D&R before it was sunk at this point.
I had scouted out the next section alone too, and wandered the paths to be sure I would follow the ones that took us closest to the perimeter. When I was there, it was rather strange. There were a lot of white men walking around, most of them with horizontally striped polo shirts. They were very friendly, and I chatted with several of them as I walked through.
I started following some side paths; there were a lot of them, branching out in all directions but abruptly ending. As I followed them, the guys sort of uncomfortably were following me into them. I wandered over to the trail to Rt 295, and down more trails. At one point two guys followed me down a narrow weedy footpath that seemed a very undesirable route.
I never gave it much thought, but I was talking about it with Park Police when they told me the area was dangerous to be walking in alone.

Overpass

After explaining what had happened, the officer heartily laughed at my naivety. “Man...that’s a gay meet up spot! Didn’t you know? We’ve had problems down there!”
The thought had never crossed my mind that these guys wanted to hook up with me down there. The problems the officer told me of were more to do with drug trafficking than sexual stuff, and I never felt threatened by anyone. It just seemed strange that I was being followed so obviously. Now I understand why, and I actually feel kind of bad for misleading them!
Once across the bridge, we turned left and soon crossed a footbridge over the southern end of the Delaware and Raritan Canal. The site of Lock #1 was just off to the left, at the confluence with Crosswick’s Creek. This used to be a very busy area, with buildings and businesses. It was known as Duck Island.

D&R Canal Lock #1 site

Today it’s all just woods and there is barely a trace of a building ever having been there. All of those paths just go off into woods with hardly a trace of a foundation we could see.
I remember in the early 2000s, this entire stretch of the D&R Canal was grown in with no access. My friend Bode went down to do volunteer work to help clear the towpath off so that it could be hiked again.
We crossed the canal, and the path split in two. To the right, the trail followed the old canal towpath, but to follow the perimeter we had to go left, toward the scenic overlook along Interstate 295. The path led us gradually up hill a bit to the parking area, with another trail to the right leading further up to the canal again. We’d take that on our way back. First I had to do a brief out and back to the overlook area on the other side.

Overlook by 295

We got on the steps up and over 295, and made our way to the lovely overlook up the Delaware River on the other side. We stopped briefly here before starting to head north again. We crossed back over the bridge, then got back on the path to the north, and soon connected with the D&R Canal towpath. This was a nice section, more rustic than the popular sections between Trenton and New Brunsick, passing through Princeton. It was a nice relaxing long stretch for me. We were getting close to the end and were in the deepest bit of nature we’d be in for the entire hike.

Delaware and Raritan Canal and towpath

I walked with Tanner and my grandfather, Lerch, James, Justin, Eric, Mr. Buckett, Tom, and Laura for a while. There was a lot of laughing and relaxing. Tanner was in a better mood than he was in the morning, and brought up the “Telemachos Crab”, a ridicules orange squeaking plastic crab we found and named after the son of Odysseus, and dragged with a fishing line and a heap of trash to confuse other hikers when we were little.
I was a little worried about my grandfather because he sat down for a break along the canal when I caught up with him. It’s not often he needs a break, but a lot of the problem was the relatable pain of walking on a lot of pavement, and even the hard rolled surfacing used on the canal trail, which doesn’t give when you walk on it. He seemed okay after a bit, and we continued on.

On the towpath

We continued to where the canal passed under Interstate 295 where the group was waiting for us. We took a brief break there and climbed up under the bridge before moving on.
The next leg took us along the towpath to a side path to the left. I thought we’d get out that way onto Lamberton Road, but it didn’t go out there. It was too fenced in, so we had to turn back to the towpath. We continued for only a little while and the connecting path out to Lamberton Road, which at this point is only an access road to the sewage treatment plant anyway. We turned right on the road and began following it north. The road went around two ninety degree bends and passed Ross Marine with a river access. We simply remained close to the Delaware, on or parallel with Lamberton Road.

Along the Delaware

A pathway soon led us closer to the Delaware River behind buildings. There was the Trenton public boat launch to the left along the way, and at some points we could be on a paved path on the waterfront. We went from waterfront to along the road back to waterfront, and the section went by pretty fast. When Rt 29 came closer to the river side, we entered a park with large tall structures in it, which of course Justin and Lerch had to climb. We all just walked on and pretended they were not part of our group, as I always do.

Along the Delaware

Rt 29 and the path remained together following the waterfront with some really nice views up the river, and eventually 29 went into a tunnel. Here, the trail made it’s way up steps and onto the top of the tunnel following paths up there.

Everyone remained pretty close together. It was going to get dark pretty fast, but we were moving along. We were already in Trenton, so this was the home stretch. I laughed when I saw Steven was still pulling along the luggage cart he’d found right at the beginning.

Along the path

We crossed an access street, and on the other side passed through a long line of archways as we headed toward the center of the city. There were statues and such all through this area, heading toward the business center with the restaurants and stuff near Old Warf.

Group silliness

The paths remained on top of Rt 29 in such a way that no one would ever know it was under us, and when it came out from the tunnel beneath, we turned left on a series of steps or ramps that led us down to the lower level and along the river.

Chutes and Ladders

Once down at he bottom of the steps, we went around a little pond and were back along the Delaware. We regrouped again when we got to probably the most porta johns I have ever seen in once place. This was a good opportunity because there was no excuse for everyone to take forever, there were limitless options.
We made our way from here through the Riverfront Park, past the Trenton baseball stadium, and further along the river up behind the buildings for different offices and one restaurant. I recall there being one old looking brick one. It was like a crazy herd of people moving along.

Herd

Not too much time went by and we reached Old Warf, about where steamboat service ended on the Delaware, below what is known as the Trenton Falls where it ceases being tidal.
For my own purposes, this was the end of the Jersey Perimeter series. At this parking lot, I had successfully circumnavigated the entire state. I waited for everyone to catch up, I shook my grandfather’s hand, and announced that this series was actually complete.

Perimeter complete

However, for public purposes, the way I had hiked to reach this point was not actually the ‘legal’ way. We had walked some crazy highways, and along the Delaware in places pedestrians are not intended to go to reach this end point. The “formal” end of the NJ Perimeter would be the back of the NJ State House, connecting with where I’d walked through on State Street before.

Me giving my speech on the capital steps, photo by Pete Wilcox

The sun was setting and we made our way toward the Capital. We crossed the crosswalk, walked a little bit of street, and headed past the William Trent House along the parking lots to the rear of the capital building. The glow of the dome showed us the way.
We all climbed the back steps, and I waited there for everyone to catch up. My buddy Bruce from work was back there, and let me know the state police needed to see me. I had to sign some papers for our permit.

My grandfather and I

Once I’d signed, we ushered everyone to the front steps of the NJ State Capital building. It was just after dark, the lights of the streets were somewhat dim, but the building was well illuminated. A bit nervous and emotional, I stepped up on the steps to announce that I’d completed my goal. I hadn’t been thinking at all about what kind of speech I’d give, only that I wanted to thank everyone for joining me. I thought about what I meant to say for a few moments.
I had already spoken on TV and in periodicals about promoting history and ecology, and on how putting them in the format of long hikes justifies visiting obscure places. To this group, that all seemed like it should be obvious.

Speaking on the capital steps photo by Ryan N

I wanted to share something more personal with the group.
I had wished my girlfriend and my brothers or more of my family had been there for this moment, but I was thankful for everyone who did come.
I thanked everyone deeply for coming along on this trips. I mentioned my old friend Brian Rapp who had just passed away, and reiterated something I said at his memorial service just a month earlier.
A conversation I had had with Jillane was something about cake, and sharing it. When you share something it’s so much better.
There is that saying “You can have your cake and eat it too”, but I don’t like that saying. I like to say “You can have your cake and share it too”. When you have a piece of cake and you eat it all yourself, sure you get more cake, but when you share it with a friend, they’ll remember and say to you “Hey, remember when we had that cake? It was awesome!”, or you can say the same to your friend. When they say “The gift is in the giving”, that is what is meant. The gift is the enriched and more defined memory of having shared a moment with someone.
My Jersey Perimeter hike series is of course a selfish thing. I did it because I wanted to do it, but I shared the experiences with friends, and the experience is so much better for having done so.
https://www.facebook.com/groups/175904955766328/

Group hug photo by Pete Wilcox

I went on to say illustrate how this was bigger than the NJ Perimeter, that this was part of 15,000 miles, and about building on something that has already existed.
I then announced that one of the next big series we would embark on would be the 911 Memorial Trail for which I have served on the steering committee. It seems like the best move not only because of it’s high profile, but because it brings out more people that aren’t necessarily “hikers”, it brings out people who are looking for something else.
I brought up that some of the long time members of the group came out because it was something they wanted, but they stayed because they realized it was something they needed. Some came out because they felt it was something they needed, and they stayed because it was something they wanted. The 911 Memorial Trail will be a greater opportunity of meeting and sharing with more people just like that.

Photo by Pete G. Wilcox

I think it as Shelly who initiated everyone to come in for a giant group hug on the Capital steps. It was a wonderful feeling to have so many great friends there for this culmination of a unique hike series.
My grandfather also got up in front of everyone to make an announcement:
“I just want to say that we made it...and I couldn’t walk another hundred feet!”
Bruce got everyone together for an outstanding group photo on the capital steps, and were approached by a reporter for the Trenton Times while there. Several people gave interviews, including my grandfather.

Group photo by Bruce Hockenbury

I reiterated to the girl interviewing some of how the hike group started, a footnotes version of everything I illustrated earlier in this journal entry.
Tanner managed to run all the way back to his car to come back and pick up my grandfather and his girlfriend. He seemed surprised he was able to make it, but they all did really well.

Trenton Social!

Jen had secured us reservations at nearby Trenton Social, which we could walk to from the capital. I gave everyone hugs and handshakes and high fives as we left the capital steps.
We made our way on back streets to the place, which was overrun with people. We had to sit around for a long time before food was ever served.
Jack and Sean ended up playing along with the DJ there for a bit, which was pretty entertaining. A lot of us sat out in a courtyard place to the right of the main bar area.
I was feeling very melancholy. I was tired, and my mind was unable to rest. I’d made a little bit of NJ history, but it didn’t feel like I had. Part of me was sad that this great series that had given so much notoriety was now over. Part of me was sad because of the people I’d wished would have come but didn’t. And part of me was upset that despite all I do to promote our open spaces, my job may force me to go to work on Sundays in the near future and end a weekly tradition that’s gone on nearly 19 years. I’ll be leaving my job if that is the case, and things could get more difficult, but it’s because of these hikes that I was hired into parks to begin with, and I simply have to stand by that.
I wasn’t hungry, but Shelly treated me to a burger and fries. I didn’t really feel like socializing at this point, but I also didn’t want to go home. I didn’t want the day as it had been to end at all.
So, as I walked back to my car alone, I decided to keep going. I walked past my car and spent a couple of hours walking Trenton by myself.

Solitary Metro Car

I spent the time alone running scenarios and considering all of the things I want to do.
This was of course not really the end of anything. It was just the conclusion to one act. After all, there are and have been so many series we’ve done through these hikes; the different canals, railroad lines, long distance trails. Themes like all of NJ’s lighthouses, all of the wineries, all of the battlefields, we’ll keep working on doing all of them. There will be many many more milestones.
There is the possibility that this is the most notoriety I will find in my life, the biggest and most universally appreciated series I will ever do. If that is the case, I am completely happy with being the first person to ever achieve this. I know that the future holds great satisfaction for me and the experiences I will continue to build with my friends, whether it is something of high public profile or not.
For me personally, I know the best days are yet to come, and I look forward to sharing them with everyone.

Woot