My
old friend, Ryan Romano, had wanted to go hiking for a few weekends
when he had finally decided on this location named “Baldpate
Mountain.” He had found trail guides and such online and was
excited for our trip. But, at the last moment, I asked him if I could
drag a few of my other friends into our trip, for a day out and to
get some video for our project at the time. This is the part where we
can plug in “and the rest is history.”
Unfortunately, as seen in videos from that fateful day, we failed to follow the thoroughfare path and ended up seeing the entirety of the mountain, via the trails that circled to-and-from the base of the hills. We did not know what to expect and were pleasantly surprised by the abundance of historical buildings and dilapidated structures that dot the mountainsides. We decided that we wanted to find “the top” and somehow failed to follow the one-and-only road from the parking lot to our destination. Instead, we broke off from said path and wandered around the surrounding forests for a few hours. By far, it was not a fatal error, as the trail system was beautiful and provided for a wonderful hike. A terribly exhausting and taxing walk, however, considering that a majority of our party were prepared for the walk in Converse sneakers.
Stumbling
upon the properties that formerly made up the Kuser Estate would
eventually give us the perfect setting for a favorite location in our
current project, time and time again. It is funny how these sorts of
places creep up on you: an innocuous day in the woods provides a
beautiful backdrop for a decades-old tale. Happens only in New
Jersey, I promise. That first day ended in us being home relatively
early, before five pm, and having a barbeque at the Koval residence.
Little did we know that we'd frequent this place on countless
occasions over the next two years.
It
appears that the featured properties (what would be considered the
“visitor’s center”) are currently undergoing vast renovations.
I assume (by the looks of the remodeling) that the largest building
will eventually be used for private functions, like birthdays and
weddings, much like the Marina Pavilion at Mercer County Park. On
recent visits, it is incredible to see the broken ground and
freshly-laid masonry: a far cry from the overgrown fields and
abandoned gardens from a mere two summers ago. The other nearby
buildings are used for maintenance and equipment storage. All you
need to do is peek in through the numerous windows to see the trail
guides and farm-like machinery to know that that is all these
treasure holds contain (at least in the main lot). This collection of
buildings, on the relatively clear summit of the mountain, is known
as “Strawberry Hill” – named by the Kusers, one of Trenton’s
oldest families. The origin of “Baldpate” itself, remains a
mystery, but has a variety of hypotheses, such as the barren nature
of the peak, a potentially planned landing strip, etc. But the history of Baldpate that most intrigues my friends and I lies beyond
this charming “Strawberry Hill.”
Old
localized publications on the area references an old copper mine that
is somewhere in the proximity (or under) the mountain. In the 1939 book, Fair
to Midlands,
by Henry C. Beck, the author details his adventures around the area,
calling the eastern portion of the park “Honey Hollow,” and
included a picture of the supposed copper mine. The locals also told
tales of bootleggers and farmers from decades past. Consider that: a
book from the 1930s detailing the “forgotten towns of New Jersey”
-- raising eyebrows and dropping jaws in fascination, much as we are
doing today. Historians repeating history.
The
story of Honey Hollow is not nearly as fantastic as some of Beck’s
assertions, considering the numerous other properties (and ruins)
that are found around the park. Some of the most prominent and easily
accessible houses that still stand today were inhabited as late as
the early 80s, having been sold to a company (the Trap Rock
Industries) in 1986, and then acquired by the Mercer County Park
system in 1998. The park is known as both Baldpate Mountain and the
Ted Stiles Preserve, named after the recently deceased Rutgers
professor of biological sciences, who campaigned for nine years for
the park to become a reality. Mr. Stiles was also responsible for
more than 9,000 other acres of preserved land across our beautiful
state of New Jersey. Thank you, professor.
Attached
is a video exploration of one of most alluring properties on Baldpate
(one that I fear will soon be demolished) with a few familiar faces.
For scenes including this park, I will link to our project’s
respective wiki-page.
Baldpate
Mountain holds some cherished memories with some of my best friends
and I look forward to what the County plans to do for the property. I
just dearly hope that they maintain the historical whimsy that the
Mountain provides.
