It used to be that a trip to the Wildwood Boardwalk was the highlight of the summer: the lights, the crowds, the food, the games, and best of all, the rides! As a preschooler in the 1960s I preferred this nautical ride featuring boats that travel in circles. One of the boats at that time even had my name painted on the back, and it's not often that you find boats or anything named 'Margie.' The kiddie boats are still seaworthy and they still have their brass bells even if they no longer have names. I was delighted to see that this ride was still there.
The kiddie rides of the twenty-first century are fancier as you can see by this faux hot-air balloon wheel...
The Balloon Race ride
...and this elephant ride:
I took in one grown-up (sort-of) ride while I was exploring the colors of Wildwood. For a different perspective, I jumped aboard the Venetian Carousel, strapped myself on that painted pony, and snapped photos as we went round and round.
The Boardwalk games look much the same as they did in my childhood. There's no more cigarette wheel like my friend worked at back in college, but instead (I pretended not to see) a wheel with all candy prizes. Some of the prizes are more sophisticated (I saw modern name-brand communication devices at one), but many look much the same as they always have.
And some were decidedly twenty-first century:
I walked the length of the two-mile Boardwalk, taking in the sites while I sipped my fresh-squeezed lemonade.
Curley's Fries Lemonade Presses
I resisted the urge to bring home a free hermit crab in a purchased cage, although at various points in my life I have been known as a hermit crab parent.
Tempting...not
All good things must come to an end, and as I reached the North Wildwood end of the Boardwalk I realized that $3 was a small price to pay for a ride to the Wildwood Crest end on the famous Sightseer tram. These tram cars have been in operation on the Boards since 1949, and the originals were built for the 1939 World's Fair! (Did you know that?) Some of the original cars are still in use.
From aboard the Sightseer: "Watch the tram car, please."
Here's a video I shot from aboard the Sightseer in 2011:
This scary bigger-than-lifesize sculpture by Seward Johnson is as yet unnamed, but if you have
an idea, Grounds for Sculpture wants to hear it. Note the contents of the steaming cauldron!
If anyone asks you to go to Grounds for Sculpture in Hamilton, you should
Go.
Don't wear sandals.
Go because it is a quirky, remarkable, one-of-a-kind place that will look different every time you go because of changing exhibits and changing nature. Don't wear sandals because many of the paths are gravel and larger stones and this becomes a challenge of grace and dexterity. Do bring the camera because besides the art itself there are vistas, flowers, trees, buildings, and peacocks to photograph.
A unique peacock perspective
Grounds for Sculpture is the creation of renowned sculptor Seward Johnson who acquired the old New Jersey Fairgrounds for his atelier and his clever park in the 1980s. The park has grown over the years since it opened in 1992 and its landscapes have changed dramatically. We old-timers who remember when the State Fair was in Trenton (actually Hamilton) until the 1970s would never recognize the place except that some of the original buildings have been re-purposed for indoor galleries and have kept their original State-Fair names.
Margie and Fred having some fun with Autin Wright's Lunar Brilliance (1979) in front of the
Domestic Arts Building (1920s).
Most of the sites are outside along paths or hidden in little compartments formed by a variety of unusual trees. One could spend all day meandering, and sitting on benches contemplating, or imagining how to replicate a Chamber of Internal Dialogue in your yard. According to GFS's "Park Etiquette" document, photography is permitted, even encouraged, as long as it is for personal use only. I interpret this to include a humble non-monetized blog such as this, especially when citations are supplied. Here are more samples:
The Nine Muses (1990-7) by Carlos Dorrien, a nice place to sit and chill
Detail of Seated Figure from Womaen in the Sun (1988) by Leonda Finke (near The Nine Muses above)
On Poppied Hill (1999) by Seward Johnson (she's bigger than lifesize; the poppies are real)
Dana Stewart's What Was That? (1997)
So if someone suggests a ride over to Hamilton Township's Grounds for Sculpture, you're going, right?
Delaware's restored Fort Miles as seen from the Observation Tower with the Atlantic Ocean beyond
During World War II, it became apparent that we Americans should protect our factories and other industries from enemy attack. The Delaware Valley was home to many of these, including some vitally important to the war effort. Fort Miles was built on either side of the mouth of the bay in order to guard the Delaware River and Bay from enemy vessels that could blockade or sink our own. Cape Henlopen on the Delaware side had the bulk of the fort, but Cape May on the New Jersey side had some observation towers, a bunker, and personnel of its own.
Barracks Building A
The area became Cape Henlopen State Park after the war, and more recently the Delaware Division of Parks and Recreation has endeavored to preserve the surviving buildings of Fort Miles.The fort was listed on the National Register of Historic Places in April 2005.
The entrance to Fort Miles on Sandy Lane with the Observation Tower in the background
Fort Miles also has a large collection of "big guns" perched as they were in the 1940s ready to eliminate threats from enemy vessels.
Fred checks out one of the big guns at Fort Miles
Soldiers stationed inside the various
Inside the tower
Observation or Fire Towers kept watch on the Atlantic waters for enemy vessels. It is true that some German U-boats came very close to shore. (U-858 and its very young German crew were captured just off the coast at the end of the war and processed at Fort Miles.) The soldiers in the towers would communicate bearings to gunmen who used triangulation to figure how to aim those guns.
Visitors can climb the tower near the historic Fort Miles section for a stunning view of the park, ocean, beach, a couple of lighthouses, the Cape May-Lewes Ferry Terminal, and many ocean-going vessels.
One of the most remarkable things about Fort Miles and today's Cape Henlopen State Park is that it sits on top of a giant sand dune. It's labeled The Great Dune on my map and takes up 543 acres of the present-day park. The sandy soil and sparse vegetation create a desert ambiance charming for campers and beach-minded visitors, but how must this environment been for the soldiers of World War II?
The dune between Fort Miles and the Atlantic Ocean beach
Drive or bike along Cape Henlopen Drive, past the Cape May-Lewes Ferry Terminal, and bear to the right once inside the park to get to the restored Fort Miles area. Cape Henlopen also features swimming, camping, fishing, birding, and a nature center.
I don't know if you are tired of flower pictures or if the blogosphere is too saturated with flower photo essays, but this blogpost began writing itself so I let it go on. This morning I dragged all of my camera gear to Sayen Gardens in Hamilton Square. (Sayen rhymes with lion.) This used to be the home and garden of Frederick and Anna Sayen whose family had a rubber plant nearby. The Sayens bought the thirty acres in 1912 and built the Arts & Crafts Style bungalow house there.
The 1912 Sayen House
The Sayen house features a "TB room." These rooms with windows on three sides, were commonly built a hundred years ago for convalescing tuberculosis patients. There's no record of anyone in the Sayen family suffering from this disease, however.
A sign of the time: the "Tuberculosis Room" at the Sayen House
Hamilton Township bought the estate in 1981 and turned it into a park. The house is used for weddings and other special occasions.each weekend in the nicer weather. I planned my photo shoot for a Saturday morning before the bridal invasion began. That is a better time for flower photography, anyway.
The gardens are maintained by the township and volunteers and are open to the public from dawn to dusk. On Mother's Day every year, Sayen Gardens plays host to a popular Azalea Festival, and every other weekend year 'round, the grounds are crawling with bridal parties posing for pretty pictures. Fifteen to twenty brides find their way here every weekend in the nicer weather.
Frederick and Anna Sayen were travelers and brought plant specimens home from all over the world. These days the park is known for its azaleas in all possible colors, some so tall they form archways over your head.
Kids, brides, and photographers seem to flock to the pond where the quaint footbridge and fountain pose for photos daily.
Superstorm Sandy came through here in the fall, and groundskeepers are still chopping up fallen tree trunks. I'm glad that is not my job. That root ball is as tall as I am.
And of course there are flowers everywhere.
Don't forget to look up!
Sayen Gardens is located at the corner of Mercer Street and Hughes Drive in Hamilton Square, NJ.
I like lists. I like checking things off of lists. I keep myself on-task with lists. I frequently think in lists. This paragraph is a list.
I was delighted to discover Maria Popova's post about Susan Sontag's As Consciousness is Harnessed to Flesh: Journals and Notebooks 1964-1980 in which Sontag discusses her compulsion to make lists. Sontag's lists of likes and dislikes were particularly interesting to me, so I made my own in my commonplace book:
Once I got into the flow, I was surprised by the items that came to mind. Books are there on top of the list of likes, of course, and all of the foods to which I am allergic made the dislikes. Speaking of lists, have you made your Summer Reading List yet? I will probably have to edit, but here's mine, in roughly the order I suspect I will read them:
Beethoven by Lewis Lockwood (my one biog. per month series)
Wikinomics by Don Tapscott and Anthony D. Williams (for a project)
Marco Polo: From Venice to Xanadu by Laurence Bergreen (biog)
The Filter Bubble by Eli Pariser (for that same project)
Richard Wagner by Derek Watson (biog)
The Lives of the Muses: Nine Women and the Artists They Inspired by Francine Prose
Space and Place: The Perspective of Experience by Yi-Fu Tuan and Steven Hoelscher
The Autobiography of Michel de Montaigne(biog)
How to Live: Or A Life of Montaigne in One Question and Twenty Attempts at an Answer by Sarah Bakewell
Water: The Epic Struggle for Wealth, Power, and Civilization by Steven Solomon
Okay, then. That's an ambitious list for four months and I'll probably have to edit, but there it is.
The most fun lists to make are those for places I want to go.
Daytrip ideas from my pile of brochures
"I've always wanted to go there!"
I have lists of museums to visit and daytrips to plan, but these are in the form of triaged travel brochures. My Big Trip List is a fluid list, and by this I mean that the items on it don't change much, but the order does. Currently it would look something like this:
Peru (jungle, mountains, seashore)
Italy (This item contains sublists of cities.)
Iceland (organized tour)
India (organized tour)
London (run around loose and visit museums, etc.)
Before I attended a travel expo in early April, the list was limited to the 'I' destinations. Then I attended a short presentation on Peru which reinforced what I had heard from friends, and this list was reordered. Not being able to schedule or finance any big trips at the moment, I am content to read up on my listed destinations. Someday I will blast off on an adventure and I will be prepared thanks to my ever-changing lists!
I've always toyed with the idea of a job on the Cape May-Lewes Ferry, cruising back and forth across the Delaware Bay. By 'always', I really mean 'always', because the ferry has existed since I was one. The ferry is important to the Cape May region. It lessens that end-of-the-world, southern-tip-of-the-peninsula vibe and it brings travelers through the county as they enjoy a refreshing break from driving along the coast. It's a pleasant ride and the bay is rarely rough enough to inspire seasickness. One does have to remember that the air temperature is much cooler at sea. We noticed the difference as soon as we backed out of the dock! We did not last long on these deck chairs even though the sun was delightful.
We thought we'd relax on these deck chairs until our fingers started to freeze. (That's the terminal in the background.)
As for my ferry career, my skill sets don't match up very well for most of the ferry's positions. For example, I never did learn how to navigate using the stars and a sextant, so the Captain position is out. They have Able-Bodied Seamen last I checked, and well, I'm not sure how qualified I would be for that position. They have to lift and toss some pretty heavy ropes. And tie knots. I learned the square knot in Girl Scouts, and I can crochet. I don't think either would keep the enormous ferry from drifting away from the dock in hurricane-force winds. I could probably run a cash register at the gift shop or cafe, but then
the open sea would be out of view and I wouldn't be able to scan for
dolphins or whales.
I suppose I will have to be satisfied with occasional jaunts as a civilian paying passenger, riding just for the sake of an eighty-minute cruise each way, or to hang out in Lewes, Cape Henlopen, Rehoboth, or other Southern Delaware spots for the day. We started our recent Delaware visit with a fast left turn out of the ferry terminal lot and heading for Cape Henlopen State Park. The park is atop a giant sand dune, and gives the effect of being somewhere other than the Mid-Atlantic Coast. Prickly pear cactus grows wild here, and the ground is sand--not sandy, but sand. (Did we get on a plane and fly to the Southwestern U.S.? No, we cruised eighty minutes on the ferry!)
Looking east in Cape Henlopen State Park (that's the Atlantic Ocean back there)
After a long day of exploring the park and some tax-free shopping at the Rehoboth Outlets, it's time to sail back home to Cape May. The ferry at night has its own mystique. The water is black, so there's no whale or dolphin sighting.
Practicing low-light photography on the dark deck.
The skyline of Cape May is visible across the bay, and it's always a thrill to spot the lighthouse with its revolving beacon. Most passengers on our 7:45 cruise looked worn-out, too, from a day of play or travel. Many snoozed, and some read.
Fred read.
The ferries have just been outfitted with snazzy new seats. Some have tables, some have hidden tablets that swing up and across, and some seats even recline. (Props to Fred for figuring out the last two features.)
I have a funny ferry anecdote. I planned to meet a couple of friends last summer who were driving to Cape May for the day. They invited me to cruise back and forth on the ferry with them, and then we'd go to Cape May for lunch. I was on vacation, installed at the Cape May house. (We can hear the ferry honking its various maritime signals from inside
our house. One long means get on the boat NOW, and one long followed by
four shorts means it's ready to blast off.) I drove over to the terminal but couldn't find them. I took this video of the ferry pulling out and heading to sea for another project before giving up. It turns out they saw a car like mine in the parking lot, and when I wasn't in the terminal they figured I was on the ship already and went aboard. They didn't find me on the ship, either. That was someone else's chili pepper red MINI Cooper in the parking lot, and I arrived right after they did in my MINI. We caught up eventually--they graciously waited for me to sail over on the next departing ferry and we all rode back together. Here's the video I took as I missed the boat:
It used to be the Reading Railroad Bridge, but now it is maintained by the CSX Corporation (freight trains) and is used by CSX, Amtrak, and SEPTA's West Trenton commuter line. It connects Yardley, PA, with Ewing, NJ. I pass it every day on the way to work, and it looks spectacular in early morning light. It looks attractive in twilight on the way home from work, too.
The problem is there are not any places to pull over to take a picture from the New Jersey side (Route 29) that I travel daily. There is a hiking path next to the river, but no access to it except from quite a bit north or south. I wouldn't be able to get a good shot without some hiking or biking.
The Pennsylvania side had to be explored. After the "Nemo" Nor'Easter dropped about four inches of snow on us, we traveled up Route 32, also known as the River Road, looking for a convenient pull-off from which to get a good shot. There were none, at least visible in the snow. We parked at a park,
hiked across the street, and carefully climbed down through the trees, vines, and brush to the riverbank.
Margie climbing; photo by Fred
This method won't be possible when there's normal traffic or once the brush fills in (I don't take traffic or poison-ivy risks), but I got some good shots today.
We walked up to the bridge and stood under it as if to make its acquaintance. I am fond of this bridge because it looks like an ancient Roman viaduct to me. It is 1445.5 feet long and has fourteen (14!) arches. The first and last arches go over Route 29 in New Jersey and Route 32 in Pennsylvania.
Beside my CSX Roman Viaduct Bridge are some masonry piers I wondered about. These, as it turns out, supported the older, 1875 wrought-iron Yardley Centennial Bridge.
Piers from the Yardley Centennial Bridge
This bridge, the West Trenton Railroad Bridge, the Reading Railroad bridge, was begun in 1911 and finished in 1913. Wait! My bridge is 100 years old this year! I'm glad I noticed it. I found out some other interesting facts about the bridge, but I'm saving those and my future shots for the eventual photo-essay.....
