10.07.26 Took a ride out west...

      As part of our return trip we wanted, and needed, to swing by the old neighborhood for a visit and to pick up some stuff we still had hanging in the closet at our former neighbors house. It felt weird, almost uncomfortable, being within a few hundred feet where we once called home. We don't know why, but we both couldn't wait to get out of there. 

     I think part of it, at least for me, is the guilt I still have about selling it. In some deep corner of my brain I feel like I committed a crime, and got away with it. Now she's a beauty of an old house, but comes with a lot of needs, and required maintenance just to keep her status quo. I conveyed everything I could to the buyers, who seemed happy the last time we spoke to them, but, still, we avoided them, as to not want to hear, or be accused, of hiding or not relaying something they found out when they got in. 

     When we were planning on selling I came up with a date of May 22nd for it to be put on the market. I knew the house showed its best during May and spring is always a good time to sell a house. When we had our estate sale and planted our "Coming Soon" signs in the front yard

the Zestimate at that time put the homes value at over 1 million dollars. Now Zestimate isn't science, but it is something sellers and buyers use when they surf Zillow. So for us the timing was perfect and we needed to strike when the iron was hot, and we did. 

     We had sat down with a team of realtors who came up with a marketing plan which included listings, and staging, photos and drone shots, and New York Times listings. That would all happen after we had cleaned the place out and had it show ready. I told them that wasn't going to work. This house needed to go-live on May 22nd and, like I said, it would be sold in less then three weeks. They weren't buying it, so we did it on our own, and had an offer on it a week before May 22nd, and we closed in July.

     And we're lucky, well blessed, that it happened when it did, exactly the way it did. If it didn't go in May it would still be sitting for sale. Out neighbor was selling at the same time we were. We had a plan to list them at the same time thinking it would stir up a buzz and help both of us sell quickly. We got out of the gate quicker, sold it ourselves, while she went with the realtors, and their plan.

     Well last week her home, which is stunning, was featured in The New York Times, above. And the real estate market, for now, has seemed to have softened up a bit. Interest rates, time of year, New Jersey real estate taxes, could all be contributing factors. But, for us, somehow, we got it ready and sold just at the perfect time. 

     So while we sat having lunch in my former neighbors house I kept looking over to see the old house, and maybe what they had done with it. I went online and looked up the Zestimate and it's 

now down to $828,000, just about around what the buyers paid for it. You know if that number was it when they bought I don't know if they would have paid even money for it. I guess timing is everything in real estate.

     And of course I couldn't pass by the chance to stop and check out the river. The Delaware River. What seven years I had here. I say seven because we lived in Titusville for 8, but I didn't really fish it this spring. 

That pull off above will not be there one day but I pulled into there countless times to scout, check conditions, relax, and even fish. Just about every morning I made the commute to Essex County College in Newark I would stop and look at the water and see what colors the lettering on the "Trenton Makes The World Takes" bridge were.

     I had so many good times fishing that river and met good people while doing so. And the striped bass. I would have never dreamed that in the heart of New Jersey's capital city I would come to call this my home and favorite water to fly fish for striped bass. One thing that moving to the Lowcountry has reaffirmed to me is that I miss fishing big and moving water. 

      Over the years I was always hesitant to post trip logs with pictures as to not blow up a spot, or even that the fishing was good. It's a place that you really can't just go to and be productive. You have to put in your time, learn, and be dialed into. And by the time we moved I can say I had it down pretty good. So if you were to ask me if I'd rather have a day to fish the spring on the Delaware, when the bass are on the herring, or a fall day, when the bass are on the peanuts on the beach, I'd would pick the former. 

      And since this post is all about Mercer County I figured I'd share some Trenton news. It wasn't my scene, but was a huge Jersey music scene venue. It was called City Gardens. It was a 

nondescript rectangular masonry building that was a mix between a club and concert hall. It was one of the most popular places for the hard rock, punk, and alternative music fans to go to from 

the 1970's through the 1990's. I never knew of it until I saw and article that a car had driven through the vacant structure a few years back. It was a place that I drove past on Calhoun Street on my way to work at Capital Health. 

     There was a push to save the place but it was deemed uninhabitable and ordered to be torn down. Well, yesterday on October 6 , 2026, it met the proverbial wrecking ball. I saw on-line that people drove to be there when it went down and to grab a brick or something to remember the place by.

     Knowing the place was historic I took Erin there on December 27th, 2022, to take a tour and some pictures. By then the place was wide open and the vagrants and scrappers had moved in and called the place home, or work.

     The place was big, and I can imagine only if it's walls could talk. There was nothing we could find that had City Gardens on it so we just settled for some pictures before leaving.

     And while we were down south last week the north got beat up pretty good with the weather. Now we're up here, and it looks like home may get one of those fall tropical storms, or at worst, a hurricane. 

     Right now it's churning it's way north from Mexico. If the path doesn't hit you the rain just might and it looks like the southeastern part of the country is going to get hammered. 4-8 inches of rain is a lot of water and the higher to lower elevation areas don't do well with monsoons.  

     But for now we're back in Cape May, freezing our asses off, but enjoying the crisp fall weather. It's empty down here as most people have stopped vacationing or returned to their primary residences. Closing up shop here and heading south back can't come soon enough. I've got used to shorts and t-shirts in the short time we've been down south. I'll trade in a light jacket if it gets down to 50 degrees in South Carolina over $6.00 a gallon home heating oil prices any day of the week. 

     And that brings me back to the old house, and that old oil burner. The new owners have no idea how hungry that thing gets, and the frequency and costs that comes with visits from Stockton Oil. We kept our thermostat at 60 degrees, and it took everything she had to hit that mark. I guess that's where the guilt comes in. You don't know until you know.....and they're gonna know soon enough.

10.06.26 Checkin' things off the list...

 

     It's weird coming back home. We haven't been gone long enough to be missed or feeling like we haven't been back in a long time. While it does feel good to visit and be back, I'm ready to go back south. Whatever groove we were in since we settled in down there definitely will get derailed by being away for some time. But it's all good.

     How could I complain? I got to attend the Giants game with Erin on Sunday. That was after we checked off the box for wedding number one. If you haven't been to the Park Chateau in East 

Brunswick I hope you get an invite for an event there one day. And that's coming from a grump who'd rather attend a funeral then a wedding. And me and my $36 black suit fit in just fine, but in the end the emergency hemming of the pants set me back $45. 

      And then we were off to Manhattan and Mt. Sinai for another round of 9/11 tests and Doc visits. This time it was the dreaded pulmonary function test (PFT). If you've never done the 

whole shebang it's not something to look forward to. You basically sit in a box with your nose pinched off and your mouth wrapped around a pipe. And when instructed you blow as hard as you can until you either see stars, soil yourself, or cough to death. Luckily between the CT scans in August and the PFT's yesterday everything is status quo. I used to complain about the drive from Mercer County to NYC for the appointments, now I have to plan for them coming from South Carolina. In the end I'm grateful the program was started, is still funded, and will be around until I no longer am. 

     I might have to make a return trip to NYC to see the ophthalmologist before I go because my eyesight has gone to shit over the last year and the Doc said there's a connection between sarcoidosis and the eyes. So it's either ocular sarcoidosis or just another symptom of getting old. Regardless of the cause I know I need glasses 24/7 as my Clic 3.0 readers aren't cutting it anymore. Once I get outfitted with a new pair of specs maybe I'll finally be able to see those redfish on the flats that have been so elusive. 

10.03.26 Good to be back at our happy place...

 Hilton Head is great but there's nothing like Cape May. Nice to wake up on day one of our 30-day return trip to New Jersey with perfect fall weather. We both agree it would be hard to give up our place here and it only takes being back about 10 minutes to reinforce that in our brains. Sometimes once you give something up you never get it back, so this is worthy sticking with. 

10.02.26 Lucky we left when we did...

       We left Bluffton at 630 and headed north on Interstate 95. It was an easy ride and when we got to Bucee's in Florence we got a text from Lauren asking us if we were involved or stuck in the big accident that happened on the bridge over Lake Marion in Santee, South Carolina. The accident involved about 40 vehicles, including 15 tractor trailers. 

     Amazingly no one was seriously injured and there were no fatalities. We were trying to figure out where we were when the accident happened and I was able to check the lone picture, below, that I took as we drove through that area. 

     That picture was taken at 757 am and the accident occurred, at that spot, a little after 9 o'clock. Interestingly, the fog must have got worse which probably was a factor due to visibility in the area. You just never know where and when stuff like this is going to happen. Lucky for us the entire ride was uneventful, and actually enjoyable. We decided to head to Cape May and made plans to drive to Lewes, Delaware, and reservations to take the ferry over to Cape May. 

      The directions said it would take 10 hours and 45 minutes and it was pretty much spot on, plus the hour and half for the ferry ride over to New Jersey. This route took us off 95 as soon as we crossed over into Virginia. It was there we both first saw our first cotton field. 

       We got to Norfolk and then made a left and headed north towards the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel. It would be another first for both of us. The bridge-tunnel-bridge-tunnel-bridge is an engineering marvel. It's located at the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay and is 17 miles long and takes about a half and hour to cross. 

      I was amazed when we approached the first, of I think three, tunnels, which have long spans between them. You can see below how one of the tunnels sits between two bridge spans.

     As many times as I've looked at the map I never realized how wide the entrance to the CB was. I shouldn't have been surprised as the opening of the Delaware Bay is 23 miles wide. When we hit the other side we went looking for food. There was nothing around Cape Charles but we did find a local fish market and kitchen. It was crab cakes, shrimp, hushpuppies, fries for us but what the lady ordered after me made me do a double take, "Two pounds of toads please". 

     "Toads, like frogs?", I asked. No these are a Virginian-Eastern Shore delicacy and are called the "chicken wings of the sea". They are actually called Sugar Toads, because they taste sweet like sugar and are as ugly as toads. They are actually fish, the northern pufferfish. 

I know we have them in New Jersey but down here it's a thing. I've never tasted them but if they had them on the menu I would have tried some. 

     We dined as we drove not wanting to miss the ferry at 745. Taking this route was like taking a tour across the heartland of America, not that I've ever been. Long, flat roads, with minimal lights or traffic, that takes you through farmlands and small towns. And while it was scenic after 11 hours of driving we were ready to be back in Cape May. So we were happy when we rolled into the ferry terminal.

     Taking the ferry over reminded me of the ride out of Woods Hole over to Martha's Vineyard. It's pretty much run the same way as the Steamship Authority does it. I guess a ferry is a ferry. We drove on and seemed to have been loaded by car color as they were all white on the one side, but overall the ferry was pretty empty.

      It felt good to roll into Cape Island and get into the house. It was about a 13 hour day but again luckily we missed the accident, had an easy and stress free drive, and saw some pretty cool things. We'll have a day and a half before the weddings begin, but I can say it's nice to be back in New Jersey. 

10.01.26 Gettin' ready to hit the road, nice to help a brother out, and why not....

     Well yesterday was a mad scramble to get things tightened up before we hit 95 north for New Jersey. Lots to pack up into the Suburban and a check list of things to do at home and The Fly Barn. I spent some time with the push mower just to give the grass a tight trim. Hopefully is doesn't grow buck wild while I'm gone. With the recent focus on the fence and the siding I soon hope to turn my

hope to turn my attention to the getting the boats, well at least the skiff, ready for some time on the water. I'm thinking of dropping it off and having it onced over by a boat guy before taking her out. On the way home I stopped at a place way, way in the back that was getting flooded on the big tide. 

     I've heard that during the winter months redfish explore far from the bigger waters, even to the point where they stuck on the dropping tides. I'll be ready to finally find some fish when I return in November. 

     It's a straight shot down some long country roads going from Ridgeland to Bluffton. There's not much on the road and on one long stretch there's just a firehouse occupied by Jasper County Fire - Rescue. As I made my way south I saw a firetruck pull out and park across the street, partially blocking traffic. At first I thought he was going to back in but as I got closer I saw the smoke. 

     By the time I got there the lone firefighter had stretched a hose line and was putting water on a tractor trailer that was hauling garbage. Something inside must have combusted and it was just starting to take off. He was alone, so I grabbed my turnout coat and went over to see if he wanted a hand. He looked at the patch on the arm and said, "Hey brother, Newark, can you take this line?". 

     He wanted to get the driver to dump the load and pull the tractor away so it didn't also catch fire. He's a one man show, a paid Lieutenant manning the station, driving, and beginning firefighting before the next companies arrive which is some distance away. So basically he had to hear the driver laying on the airhorn in front of the firehouse, instruct him where to park, radio it in, drive the apparatus, put it in pump, stretch the line, wet it, and then operate it. That's pretty impressive in the few minutes it took me to get from where I was down the street to where he was. In my Newark days engine companies ran with one officer and four firefighters. 

     While he handled the driver and the truck the one side was knocked down so I went and grabbed a hook off the truck to start opening up the tightly packed garbage on the other side. Realizing it would take more overhaul then just a few pokes with a hook we stretched a second line to keep it in check,

thus hitting it from both sides. It's been a bit since I had a nozzle in my hand, and yes, I miss it, tremendously, even shitty garbage fires like this. Soon his help arrived and then there were three. 

     Not wanting to linger I told him nice job and I tip my hat to him, especially if he had a structure fire and had to do the same thing. He asked if I would like to join, "Either paid or volunteer", and I answered, "No, I'm good brother", and let him get back to work. 

     If there were a few firemen there when I approached I wouldn't have stopped but with just one guy, it just felt like the right thing to do. I always carry that turnout coat and first aid bags with me for just these kind of situations. While not life threatening or medical in any way, it's still nice to assist when I can. I never want to feel helpless if, well, when, I come across these things, and I seem to do it a lot. Just the other day near that bridge where I fish there was a two-car head-on crash, with two people needing to be Medevacked from the scene. I wasn't there, but was earlier before it happened. You just never know when and where you'll be when things go sideways. 

     And before we head out today we both did some job searching, contacting, and interviewing. We both got our fingerprints done yesterday for the FBI background checks which is the last thing we need to get our nursing licenses endorsed by South Carolina. 

     I also had some correspondence from the Dean of Nursing at the University of South Carolina so that may be an option for me to consider. I don't do Indeed, but today I did and found out Hilton Head is looking for an Assistant Public Safety Director, so hey why not me?

     I did it to just do it. You never know. At least my application and resume went though because I got email back from Hilton Head's HR department shortly after I submitted it. 

     I think my chances are slim to none, but, you never know where you might wind up in this life. Who woudda thought that I would ever be penning this blog from South Carolina?