A visual chronicle of suburban NJ
Have you ever seen a bridle trail/ hiking trail that crosses over a highway? I mean, aside from the non-road-overpasses I’ve shown you recently. (NOBODY is supposed to use THOSE ones.) This is more in the “pedestrian overpass” category, which is totally normal, except that this is a hiking trail, not a downtown area, which is where you’d normally find pedestrian overpasses.
This one can be found in the South Mountain Reservation, allowing the Lenape Trail to safely cross South Orange Avenue.
Remember when I was rambling about Nike Road yesterday? Do you? Today I intend to ramble about the Nike Road bridge.
For twenty years after the Watchung Reservation Nike base was deactivated in 1963, as far as I can tell, both the launcher and the control area lay abandoned and unused.
And then, in the 1970s, I-78 came along.
The interstate was originally supposed to cut right through the Watchung Reservation, but the locals were definitively not okay with that. For years, a war raged between angry locals and equally angry road-builders.
Eventually, in the mid-1980s, they came to an agreement: I-78 would be built, but it would just skirt the northern edge of the Watchung Reservation (which necessitated blasting through the Second Watchung Mountain, which was a pain), and several non-road-bearing land bridges would be constructed to allow wildlife from the Watchung Reservation to migrate across the interstate without interfering with traffic.
One of those land bridges, as I’ve already shown you, was the bunny bridge.
The other land bridge is Nike Road, a little one-lane maintenance road that ran from Glenside Avenue to the Missile Tracking Radar Station.
While the lore says that Nike Road has always been part of the Nike missile station, the Nike Road bridge is dated 1985; if the missile station was deactivated in 1963, and I-78 wasn’t constructed until the 1980s, there was certainly no reason to build an overpass for an unused road. And there was certainly no need to line it with the same tall grass that’s found on the bunny bridge.
So as far as I can tell, Nike Road bridge was wholly intended to serve as an alternative to the bunny bridge for a wildlife migration land bridge… and maybe some maintenance vehicles from time to time, because why else would they go to the trouble of paving it?
(I haven’t seen this explicitly stated anywhere, so this is my own conclusion; if you have additional information either confirming or denying this, please leave a comment below!)
But as I mentioned yesterday, it seems like vehicles aren’t really a priority, because the road is currently obstructed by logs (which are, generally speaking, not very friendly to things on wheels).
And that’s that. For additional information, refer to my sources below.
References:
Alpert, S. (n.d.). “New Jersey Roads – Nikesite Rd., Union Co.” Alps’ Roads. http://www.alpsroads.net/roads/nj/nikesite/.
Alpert, S. (n.d.). “New Jersey Roads – I-78.” Alps’ Roads. http://www.alpsroads.net/roads/nj/i-78/.
Bender, D.E. (n.d.). “Nike Battery NY-73: Summit, NJ.” Nike Missiles and Missile Sites. http://alpha.fdu.edu/~bender/NY73.html.
Harpster, F. (2009). “Missiles in Mountainside: Nike Battery NY-73.” From the Hetfield House (newsletter). http://www.mountainsidehistory.org/files/HHnewsletter09final.pdf (PDF).
LostinJersey Blog. (2009). “Summit Nike base.” http://lostinjersey.wordpress.com/2009/03/19/summit-nike-base/.
Troeger, V.B. (2005). Images of America: Berkeley Heights Revisited. Arcadia Publishing: Charleston, SC. ISBN 0738537527.
Wikipedia. (2012). “Interstate 78 in New Jersey.” http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Interstate_78_in_New_Jersey#History.
This is approximately where the Nike missiles in the Watchung Reservation used to be controlled!
You may recall when I wrote about the Nike missile launch site, which used to be located where the Watchung Stables are now. If you don’t (don’t feel bad, I don’t expect you to), here’s a recap.
In 1957, during the Cold War, the U.S. army declared that it would construct a Nike missile base on the Watchung Reservation. Despite locals’ loud protests, the base (NY-73) was completed in 1958.
The base consisted of two parts: the launcher (now the Watchung Stables), where missiles were assembled, tested, and stored in three underground magazines (each of which could hold ten Nike Ajax missiles); and the control area (near the present Governor Livingston High School), officially known as the Missile Tracking Radar Station.
For reasons apparently unknown, the battery started shutting down in 1962, less than four years after they opened it. (It was officially deactivated in 1963.)
While there are reportedly no signs left of the launcher near the Watchung Stables, a little bit of barbed wire and a concrete slab still mark the former control area.
The interesting part of this is the long, winding, abandoned maintenance road that leads from Glenside Avenue to Governor Livingston High School.
When I visited the control-area road, there were a lot of fallen trees blocking the road, presumably left from Hurricane Irene (August 2011) and the Halloween Blizzard (October 2011). Since the road is currently impassible to vehicular traffic, and nobody has bothered to move the logs for 5-8 months, I suspect the road doesn’t get a lot of traffic.
I did see more joggers and pedestrians than I expected. So the road DOES get used.
Stay tuned for Part 2 of the Nike Road adventure tomorrow!
References:
Alpert, S. (n.d.). “New Jersey Roads – Nikesite Rd., Union Co.” Alps’ Roads. http://www.alpsroads.net/roads/nj/nikesite/.
Alpert, S. (n.d.). “New Jersey Roads – I-78.” Alps’ Roads. http://www.alpsroads.net/roads/nj/i-78/.
Bender, D.E. (n.d.). “Nike Battery NY-73: Summit, NJ.” Nike Missiles and Missile Sites. http://alpha.fdu.edu/~bender/NY73.html.
Harpster, F. (2009). “Missiles in Mountainside: Nike Battery NY-73.” From the Hetfield House (newsletter). http://www.mountainsidehistory.org/files/HHnewsletter09final.pdf (PDF).
LostinJersey Blog. (2009). “Summit Nike base.” http://lostinjersey.wordpress.com/2009/03/19/summit-nike-base/.
Troeger, V.B. (2005). Images of America: Berkeley Heights Revisited. Arcadia Publishing: Charleston, SC. ISBN 0738537527.
Wikipedia. (2012). “Interstate 78 in New Jersey.” http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Interstate_78_in_New_Jersey#History.
Last time I had an ankle/tendon/ligament injury, I was very wary of running up and down hills (which was unfortunate because I basically live in the middle of a large hill).
But for the next time that injury flares up… the track at the New Providence High School is— as far as I can tell— open to public joggers.
I don’t know if this is standard or not (I don’t go lurking around high school tracks very often), but there’s a little ungated labyrinthine entrance that you can squeeze through, and BOOM! there you are on the track.
Plus, there’s a sign asking joggers to stay on the outside three lanes. Why would they post such a sign if joggers weren’t welcome?
ACCORDING TO LEGEND…..
Back in the days of Feltville, the children of the village kept disappearing. It was eventually decided that THIRTEEN MURDEROUS SISTERS were responsible for the childrens’ disappearances. The “witches” were all hanged and buried beneath Johnston Drive, which was dirt at the time. Because, I mean, obviously, what better place to bury someone than somewhere your wagon wheel could accidentally plunge into a muddy half-rotten grave, right?
But I digress. Their graves created small bumps in the road, as graves in a road are presumably wont to do.
After Johnston Drive was paved in later years, THE THIRTEEN BUMPS EMERGED FROM THE GROUND.
The bumps were removed and paved flat. YET AGAIN, THIRTEEN BUMPS EMERGED IN THE ROAD.
And it KEPT HAPPENING. Every time.
According to the story, if you drive over the bumps and count all thirteen, say “thirteen witches,” and then look behind you, you can see the witches following you. DUN DUN DUUUNNNNNNN!!!
Personally, I didn’t really notice any outstanding bumps when I drove (‘Was that a bump? Maybe that one? Maybe all of these bumps? If they all count, there are way more than 13 bumps here’), so this is just a generic photo of the road. I kept thinking of a quote I’d read earlier: “Every time I go there I’m either drunk or high so I count like 52 or like 5 bumps, so I’m looking around for a hell of a lot of witches or I’m wondering what the hell is going on” (Weird N.J. n.d., para. 2).
(Just to be clear: I was neither drunk nor high, Mom.)
One more reasonable theory asserts that Johnston Drive has lots of bumps ‘cos it’s always been a steep and tortuous road through the mountains, and bumps used to help prevent carriages from sliding backwards down the hills.
For other more reasonable theories, check out my sources below. OR TELL YOUR OWN TALES.
Sources:
Everson, E. (2011). “The ghosts of Union County: 13 bumps for 13 witches.” Patch.com. http://newprovidence.patch.com/articles/theghostsofunioncounty-13bumpsfor13witches.
Weird N.J. (n.d.). “Bumps road revisited.” http://www.weirdnj.com/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=62&Itemid=28.
A few days ago, I posted a photo of Stanley Avenue in Summit. Part of what contributes to the rural atmosphere is the single-lane dirt road. It’s one of those things you’d thought they’d eradicated in suburbia, but… nope.
It’s quaint, it’s charming, I’d hate to have to drive on it in lousy weather. Even in good weather, it’s uncomfortable to go above 10-15 mph.
At some point in the early-to-mid 1970s, construction began on a cloverleaf overpass for a road that was intended to connect NJ 24 to NJ 124. (124 is a main street through Chatham and Madison; 24 is a major freeway that runs parallel to 124; 24 wasn’t finished until 1992.)
But locals raised a fuss; apparently the plans for the new “Triborough Road” ran uncomfortably close to the Passaic River, so environmental concerns (as well as budgetary concerns) prevented the road from ever being constructed.
BUT THE INTERCHANGE WAS BUILT ANYWAY.
Thus: there is a mostly-constructed cloverleaf exchange, totally unused, totally unconnected to any roads, sitting in the middle of basically nowhere. (It’s on the border of Chatham and Florham Park, not far from Millburn’s Short Hills Mall.)
For all the trouble it took me to get to this thing, I’m going to stretch this out into two days, so… stay tuned! I’ll continue this tomorrow. (Click here for the next Abandoned Overpass post.)
Sources:
Alpert, S. (n.d.). “New Jersey Roads – NJ 24.” Alps’ Roads. http://www.alpsroads.net/roads/nj/nj_24/ and http://www.alpsroads.net/roads/nj/cr_609/s.html.
Anderson, S. (2006). “NJ 24 Freeway.” The Roads of Metro New York. http://www.nycroads.com/roads/NJ-24/.
Ca3ey. (2007). “Abandoned ‘highway’ in Morris County.” Weird U.S. Message Board. http://theweirdusmessageboard.yuku.com/topic/1137/abanonded-highway-in-morris-county#.TyXo7mM9naI.
Cunningham, J.T. (1997). Images of America: Chatham. Arcadia Publishing: Dover, NH. ISBN 0738545619.
Wikipedia. (2012). “New Jersey Route 24.” http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eisenhower_Parkway and http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/New_Jersey_Route_24.
I feel like I ought to post something festive, as a sort of respectful sending-off to 2011. But I don’t really have any festive photos. ‘Cept this one. Woo! Lights!
2011, you managed to not be the year the world ended. Good job. I appreciate that.
Happy New Year’s Eve, everyone!
P.S. If you like there’s one day left to vote for New Providence Daily Photo’s Photo of the Year! Feedback is completely voluntary, but your efforts would be appreciated!
In preparation for writing this post, I just spent WAY too much time researching the entire highway system of the United States (HOURS, I kid you not. who needs a life? I do!), most of it not at all relevant to U.S. 22.
Here’s a brief history of the American highway system, as summarized from Wikipedia (and unless noted, all links below are to their respective Wikipedia articles):
Back in the day, everyone got around by foot or by horse’n'buggy, so the roads were dirt.
Then, in the early 1900s, suddenly everyone had automobiles, and they needed slightly better quality roads to roll around on. So some folks started setting up auto trails, which could’ve been awesomely maintained by organized organizations or badly maintained by some random dude who could make a sign. You didn’t know ’til you drove it.
In 1926, drivers were like “this sucks, we want real roads” and the U.S. Highway System was approved. Hooray for organized maintenance! (And a numbering system that supposedly made some sense.)
By 1956, President Eisenhower was like, “dude, the Autobahn is WAY better than this shyte, we gotta keep up with the Germans” and the Interstate Highway System was officially spurred into existence by some important bill that authorized $25 billion to construct lots of new highways. Why new highways? ‘Cos these fancy interstates would be limited-access freeways, so you’d hopefully minimize the number of old ladies pulling out from the bank at 3mph into 40mph traffic and thus ruining everyone’s day. (Alas, this still happens on the U.S. and state highways.)
Above, you see a before and after of a smoking power line, taken 18 minutes apart. I was standing about 100 feet away when I heard a loud POP, like a gunshot. I saw flashes of blue-green and gold accompanied by a few more pops and fizzles and sparks, and then it was quiet.
While I was out, I saw about four tree branches fall (two large ones), right before my eyes.
As dusk set in and my apartment lost power, all through the night, the reflective cloud-covered sky would occasionally glow that same electrical blue-green for a second or two, presumably from some other power line exploding somewhere.
The trees around here still have their leaves, and with 6-14 inches of snow on top of that, it’s just too heavy for the poor trees, so branches are falling down left and right— and taking power lines with them.
I talked to one of my neighbors last night, who said there were spots on the road that were so badly blocked that you had to stop your car to get out and move branches, just so you could drive around them.
This October blizzard thing SUCKS. I’m visiting my parents in central Jersey, which barely got touched by this dumb snow. On the drive here, I had to dodge downed power lines (!), and I nearly turned back after 10 minutes. My local train line (Morris & Essex, Gladstone branch specifically) isn’t running, either, so I’m not sure how or if I’m going to work tomorrow.
ARRRRRRGH.
