The Devouring Horror at Brooksbrae Brick Factory

Paint in the Pines, Crunching Monstrosities, and Iridescent Scarabs

One of the things I love most about exploring the Pinelands is that you have no idea what lurks just off the road, in the whispering green embrace of the forest. Could be a wildlife refuge, or the site of a colonial-era tavern, a sanatorium and bottling plant for huckster water, a rail line to nowhere, a memorial to a fallen pilot… or the graffitied ruins of a terracotta factory overrun with insects.

The latter is what I found off of Pasadena-Webbs Mill Road, well marked by the spray painted tags and arrows on the pavement, pointing you over the railroad tracks. This is surrounded by private property, so if you decide to visit, don’t follow Google Maps down Railroad Ave. Drive past the waypoint on Pasadena Road and you can park on the gravel by the graffiti and follow the markers all the way in.

I won’t condone what visitors have done, but their paint markers on the trail and trees themselves makes this an easy find. You do need to watch your step as you leave the trail to explore the brick ruins of the demolished factory, but as far as “urbex” ruins go, it is quite sturdy and safe, and the smashed beer bottles are mostly relegated to the remains of campfires in the concrete cubbies and cellar holes.

I learned about this space from fellow New Jersey writer Dennis Tafoya, who told me about it over beers at the Piney hangout, the Pic-A-Lilli Inn. (I can’t recommend their famous wings, but their corn fritters are righteous.) The factory has been a teen hangout for decades, and the graffiti proves it. If there were any hateful slogans, they have been painted over. It seemed refreshingly positive. Not as beautiful as the art I found at the more remote Fries Mill site, but pleasant enough.

Someone even painted a fox! What a beautiful tag. I wonder who would do that?

There are some tunnels and passages that I did not explore beyond the flash of my phone, and you are welcome to do so if you wish. I explored the area, and met with a father and son who were leaving as I arrived. This area was recently subject to a wildfire, after the 13,500 acre Wharton fire, and apparently unrelated. I hope the people who live nearby are safe and still housed.

It’s not far from where 83-year-old Bill Wasiowich, “the Last Piney,” as the newspaper (and nobody else) calls him, lives in a house rented from a local gun club, and still subsists by gathering cones and other natural items to make wreaths, and also his Social Security. He was one of the subjects of John McPhee’s The Pine Barrens, a great read, and I hope to meet him someday.

On the way back to the car, I heard the distinct patter of raindrops. But I felt no rain.

So I stood and listened more carefully:

The video title ruins the surprise. I was hearing the munching of many, many spongy moth caterpillars, and soon found that nearly every stalk was covered with them. And what did I find as well? A beautiful Fiery Searcher beetle, also known as… The Caterpillar Hunter. The scarab would feed well this day.

On my trip home, I took the delightfully named Mount Misery Road, a paved and potholed blast through the woods for the Outback. I had no signal, so I didn’t know that I passed a picturesque spot known as The Devil’s Hairbrush, which I’ve been meaning to visit. Next time… maybe I’ll stop there and Mount Misery. Other than Shades of Death Road, which is near Ghost Lake, I can’t think of a more memorably named thoroughfare in my lovely Garden State. (Other than Yock Wock Road in Port Norris, and maybe Uranus Road in Washington Township.)

Next time, I’ll bring you to the ruins of an airport in the Pines; not the Supersonic JetPort serving Concordes that some envisioned for the pinelands, but a more modest place known as…. Aero-Haven.

More of my beetle friend: