Open gates, open doors

I've been visiting Sandy Hook for at least 10 years now, and I pretty much figured that I'd found everything there is to explore. When I started off on my jaunt today, I figured this visit would be dedicated mostly to walking the tideline and maybe spending a half hour or so on the birding platform on North Beach. When I grabbed the binoculars from my closet, I also pulled out the camera and my new videocamera, figuring that I could get some shots of the tide or something.

Little was I to know that I'd run into several open doors.

Driving in, I stopped by the Nike exhibit -- a fenced in Nike Ajax and sample operations trailer like the one inside the base down the road. It's actually across the road from the launch facility. While the launch area was off limits, the gate in the fence around the exhibit wasn't locked, so I was able to get some close-ups of the trailer interior, albeit from the outside. I made a quick stop at the base, too, to do a quick video travelogue of the buildings and equipment one can see from outside the fence.

A little farther up the road, I stopped, for some reason, at another narrow parking area, and found that a wooden gate across the far end of the driveway was open. Seeing nobody around and no signs warning to the contrary, I drove through to find several picnic areas I'd never known were even there. They reminded me of the camping areas at national parks out west -- sheltered picnic benches, a grill and maybe a water spigot. Pictures of Boy Scouts cleaning up the Nike base were posted on a nearby bulletin board. That made me wonder if I could hike from there to the edge of the base. I parked the car beyond the gate and walked on in.

All I found was a clearing with some sort of structure surrounded by railroad ties. When I got back to the road, someone had shut and padlocked the gate I'd driven through earlier. That was a close call.

At the very tip of the hook, I stopped by Nine Gun battery, a massive artillery staging structure built in 1902 and now decaying in the ocean air. It's probably about a quarter-mile long, stretching along North Beach. Long ago the Park Service encircled it with a five-foot fence and posted signs warning explorers to stay out, but I'd heard stories of people finding ways of getting in to wander the corridors.

Oddly enough, I came upon another gate, much like the one for the backyard of my childhood home. No lock, no blocking of any sort beyond the sign reading "EXTREMELY HAZARDOUS CONDITIONS AREA CLOSED." I checked the latch, which moved easily in my hand. I could just nudge it open, push the gate forward and walk right in. The doorways and stairs of the battery invited me in, but I thought better of exploring solo. My luck, I'd get swallowed up by it all.

My last destination was a quick ride along Officers' Row, the gorgeous old housing that's mostly been left to decay on the bayshore side of the Hook. One of the buildings has been made into a 40's era home museum, and some of the smaller ones house non-profit organizations focused on environmental issues. The others are simply sealed shut, inviting the curious to climb the rickety porches to peer in at the peeling tin ceilings and plaster walls.

Out of habit, I gazed at the houses as I passed each in turn. Then I saw an open front door. Temptation.

I pulled around to the service road and parked behind one of the houses. After a short walk I found the open door. It blew open with a passing gust, and then fell back, inviting me to approach, but I was a bit apprehensive of what might be inside, and that the porch would cave under my weight. Besides, now that the door was open, I could see from the sidewalk that it only led to a vestibule. The inner door was most likely locked, anyway.

Like a good scout, I took note of the house number and reported the situation at the Park Ranger office. Some invitations may be best accepted at a later time, when conditions have improved.