TIME TRAVEL: FLEECYDALE ROAD, CARVERSVILLE, PA.

Road Sign Fleecydale Road, Carversville

 NJWILDBEAUTY readers know that I am partial to time travel.  Give me a town or a region, a landscape or seascape that’s frozen in time, and I could move right over or down there.  You also know how much timelessness matters to me.  I hope, over the years, that my blog images have conveyed historic or even non-historic, as in unspoiled scenes, matter to me.  My current time travel destination is Fleecydale Road (closed to cars, open to locals and walkers), below the Carversville Inn in Bucks County.

Carversville inn PA Jan. 2015

Beautiful Ruin Fleecydale Road, Carversville

Recently, on two different occasions, I took dear friends over to Carversville, Pennsylvania, in Bucks County.  We go across the Stockton (NJ) bridge and straight up the hill.  Take Aquetong Road right til you come to the Carversville Inn, seemingly unchanged since the 1800-and-somethings, at the corner of Aquetong and Fleecydale.

View From the Bridge Fleecydale Road, Carversville

Go inside, having made a fireside reservation if the fireplace is working.  Otherwise, sit in the sunnier upper room, and feast.  The chef is a wizard with sauces, — subtle, authentic, nuanced, and never overdone.  I have friends who call up to be sure their escargots with the little poufy pastry hats are on the menu, before they set out on the journey, often in a snazzy little white Triumph, top down, fur hats this time of year.  The car is named Murg, and she loves back roads.  It doesn’t get any ‘backer’ than Fleecydale. But I am ahead of myself.

Beech Central, Fleecydale Road, Carversville

If they have oyster ‘stew’ – liquid gossamer – go for that alone.  Then, I am always torn between the DIVER SCALLOP, yes, singular, and about the size of a filet of beef, wrapped in applewood-smoked bacon or prosciutto, served on tangy julienned root vegetables, and delicately/heartily framed with artistic doodles of sauce that could be Cumberland or could be some essence of citron.  “Torn between” this superbly undercooked scallop, and the Wild Mushroom Ragout.  TBD.  All desserts are made in house, and their ice creams and sorbets give Princeton’s ‘bent spoon’ a run for the money – as in salted caramel…  There is a flourless chocolate cake with house-made (of course!) caramel that is “worthy of the journey”, in the renowned Michelin Guide term.

No Swimming Fleecydale Road, Carversville

O, Fleecydale, you ask!  What about Fleecydale?

Cross Creek Reflections Fleecydale Road, Carversville

Well, it’s been closed since Sandy.  Don’t ask.

Bridge of Yesteryear Fleecydale Road, Carversville

It winds about like Lombard Street in San Francisco.  But it’s far more beautiful, natural, and, YES, OLDER!

Fleecydale Road Doorway Carversville

Fleecydale is studded with buildings from the 1600s, 1700s, 1800’s you already know:  Mill this, tanner that.  Each house remarkably individualistic, from the tiniest to the grandest.  A handsome bridge.  A tranquil creek now, that raged in Sandy.  Broad fields, resplendent with wildflowers in summer and autumn; a remarkable rock wall on the left as you walk away from the Inn, which is festooned with ice sculpture by the greatest artist of all, Nature Herself, in January.

Baby, It's Cold   Fleecydale Road Carversville Jan. 2015

Fleecydale Dwelling Carversville

The neighbors are always out walking, and they welcome you to their haven.

Cross Creek Sign Fleecydale Road, Carversville1

The vile pipeline has metastasized even onto Fleecydale (where no one seems to drive but locals, but the pipeline has eminent domain).  No one is safe, anywhere, in the Era of the Pipeline, not even sacred Fleecydale!  Do what you can, WHEREVER YOU LIVE, to STOP ALL destructive PIPELINES!

Dread Pipeline rural Fleecydale Road, Carversville

Even in late November, new ferns are sprouting.  Spiky, tough though delicate witch hazel adorns otherwise empty shrubs.  Mill wheels lean against trees of other times.

Yesteryear, Fleecydale Road Carversville PA Jan. 2015

Each yard is subtly tended, and now decorated for Christmas.

Tis the Season Fleecydale Road, Carversville

Five of us took the Fleecydale Challenge on November 29th.  Four of them treated me for my impossible 78th birthday.  Then we trekked outside and down the ‘closed’ road, into timelessness and silence and wonder.  Of the five, three of us had seen whales that week — two of us at Island Beach, one while fishing off Barnegat Inlet. No one but yours truly had ever strolled Fleecydale.

Carver's Tanner Fleecydale Road, Carversville

Trust me that it is glorious in all seasons.

Fallen Hydrangeas Fleecydale Road, Carversville

The legendary Max Hansen Caterers (of Michener, of Bowman’s Hill Wildflower Preserve events) manage the general store now.  Get Max & Me smoked salmon, if they haven’t sold 14 packages just before you came.  Wondrous hefty breads await, and the lavender products of Carousel Farm.  Note the copy of Van Gogh’s postman in the lobby, for this was (is?) a post office not long ago.

Max Hansen Sign Fleecydale Road, Carversville,jpg

Haycock Hippies Fleecydale Road, Carversville

Copy of Max Hansen Awning and Window Fleecydale Road, Carversville

Max Hansen Giant Pumpkins Fleecydale Road, Carversville

Whatever you do, get out onto Fleecydale after your sumptuous feast.

Take cameras!

RAINY-DAY BIRDING – ISLAND BEACH, NOVEMBER

View from the Coast Gard Watch Window, Island Beach, Rainy November Day

View from the Coast Gard Watch Window, Island Beach, Rainy November Day

NJWILDBEAUTY readers surely know by now, to borrow from Coleridge, Nature does not “fold up her tent like an Arab, and as silently steal away” after Labor Day. Quite the contrary!

These few images recreate Nature’s fulness, despite rain, last Saturday, November 7.

Drama, beauty, even miracles awaited us, as we tugged on our slickers and headed out on the beach.

"Down to the Sea Again" -- Fishermen Head to the Beach

“Down to the Sea Again” — Fishermen Head to the Beach

The Weather Guides had insisted there was only a 30% chance of rain for the Island Beach region.  But, as my urologist husband used to insist re surgery percentages, “For my patient, it’s 100%.”

For Jeanette and Me, 100 percent!

For Jeanette and Me, 100 percent!

For Jeanette Hooban and me, rain was indeed 100%, sometimes more ‘percentier’ than others.

"The Intrepid" Wades the Atlantic Merrily, November, 2015

“The Intrepid” Wades the Atlantic Merrily, November, 2015

Fishermen to the South of Us

Fishermen to the South of Us

The Day of Calm Fishermen

The Day of Calm Fishermen

Where the Pole Was

Where the Pole Was

The Track of the Fishermen

The Track of the Fishermen

"Could they be gannets?" - Jeanette Intent

“Could they be gannets?” – Jeanette Intent

We were welcomed by foxes.  You can either mentally zoom and crop on my terrible images, or just Google Ray Yeager Photography Blog to see (probably our very foxes that very day) his fine art superb images of the ruddy regals of Island Beach.  Thanks, Ray, for beauty, majesty, and everything from sleeping, leaping to fighting.

Fox Couple of Reed's Road - Right at Home, and the Rain didn't Bother Them, Either

Fox Couple of Reed’s Road – Right at Home, and the Rain didn’t Bother Them, Either

This Healthy Fox Was That Close to my Car - but my hands were shaking...

This Healthy Fox Was That Close to my Car – but my hands were shaking…

The foxes opened our outdoors day.  Whales were our finale.

As we turned to leave the fishermen’s beach, we took one last, reluctant look at the serene, majestic Atlantic.  Take the image below and multiply it by twenty or more.  All flowing south, just beyond the third waves.  A little larger than dolphins, but making that same loopy motion.  Not so frolicsome.  Very sure.  A singleton.  A threesome.   Four side-by-side.  The longer we looked, the more we saw.  As relaxed in their journey as our fishermen — who stopped everything to watch.

Later, in the Coast Guard Building, –newly opened and you can go upstairs to see what those heroes saw as they watched through storms–, the men painting the front room told us they were probably minkes, definitely on migration south.  They spend most of their lives on Island Beach.  This is the time they might be seen  But there was awe in the men’s voices, as they advised, “That was really special…”

Single Minke Whale, from Internet

Single Minke Whale, from Internet

Lavallette is not far above Island Beach.  We’d stood so very long in the rain, mesmerized by whales, that we decided rewards were in order:

Compensation

Compensation

A craft brew, with a Pennsylvania name, possibly Nockamixon.  Rather metallic.  Good with

Rainy Day Rewards at the Crab's Claw in Lavallette

Rainy Day Rewards at the Crab’s Claw in Lavallette

The oysters on the right are Delaware Bay — a miracle of resurrection.  Once there were more millionaires per block in and around Shellpile and Bivalve, NJ, because of oysters, than anywhere in the world.

Then MSX (multinucleated sphere unknown) wiped out the industry, the oystermen, the millionaires.  But New Jersey and Rutgers have undertaken heroic efforts to bring these hefty, meaty bivalves back to our (almost unknown) Delaware Bay and to our plates  They were divine.

Those on the left are Virginia oysters.  Not so large as Chincoteague, to be sure, but savory, briny and electrifying.

Hearty Virginia Oysters, Crab's Claw, Lavallette

Hearty Virginia Oysters, Crab’s Claw, Lavallette

Flounder with Lemon and Capers, Crab's Claw, Lavallette

Flounder with Lemon and Capers, Crab’s Claw, Lavallette

Our beautiful entrees were so delicate, probably only moments out of the sea.  They often mention, on their menu, the day’s special as “whatever is running.”  Meaning whatever fish are off-shore that day.  I always get the child’s view of a fish running on its little tail.

As NJWILDBEAUTY readers can experience, here, with Jeanette and me, Not fall nor rain, winter nor snow, can keep us from our appointed rounds, reveling in Nature, letting her bestow her countless gifts.

Remember, the Nature part of our excursion (and most if not all of them) could never happen without preservation.  Support your local land trust.