Fartin' Around The Wharton Water Tower
Posted: Tuesday August 21, 2018
Within the infinite distance that is the horizon, a blinding radiant blob of fire and light straddles a narrow and ever quickly receding imaginary line just barely separating the pollution-orange tainted sky above, from the silhouetted land below. As if it is a living, thinking entity, the sun contemplates it's final minutes of fate whilst balancing upon the tightrope horizon, before ultimately falling and sinking behind the opaque mountains; its heat and illumination now devoured by the land. The sky above grows increasingly darker, engulfing all of its surroundings in blackness. In response, the air abound becomes cool and crisp, as the last remnants from the sweltering sun's heat rays exude out from within the asphalt and bare gravel ground. This fresh, cool air awakens the animals of the night. A symphony of frogs and crickets begin to chirp in harmony, their duet growing increasingly louder as the last of the suns rays disappear below the horizon for good, like stage lights dimming for the main performance.
As I stand within the barren dirt I can feel the captured heat from within rise up across my body as a brisk breeze effortlessly whisks the warmth away. It is within this moment that my eyes focus upon gleams of light from galaxies long past which begin to appear and twinkle within the night sky above. Much like dandruff flaking off from a sun-dried scalp onto the shoulders of ones black t-shirt, the sky too becomes littered with specks of white flakes which emit just enough light earthward to barely illuminate my surroundings.
Twilight. This is the time I've been waiting for. Much like the silhouetted land obscuring the sun, I too become just a delineated outline of a human, a two dimensional shadow, lurking unbeknownst within the semidarkness of the young evening. Like an agile fox in the night I quickly approach my prey with confidence for I know I am completely undetectable to the watchful eyes of paranoid humans wishing to become heroes. Ambient lights reflect off the freshly painted metal surface of my catch. Just ahead, a galvanized rollup door remains wide open presenting an obvious entrance into an echo chamber of ghostly sounds reverberating within a pitch black cement sarcophagus. The orchestra of amphibians and insects playing outside become completely muted within this stale, concrete coffin, full with construction equipment, lift machines, and confined air still warm from the sun's afternoon rays.
With the press of a button my flashlight illuminates the darkened space as my eyes haphazardly search for a way higher. Just as with the glimmering stars within the outside world, my eyes become immediately fixated on a shimmer of light reflecting of an aluminum ladder as my flashlight beam scans the perimeter of the space. I can see the ladder extends high up to a narrow platform topped with a closed hatch door. But from my position below I can not tell if the hatch above is locked. Certainly however, this is the way up, and the only way to tell for certain about the status of the hatch is to place both my feet and hands on the ladder and begin to climb higher, rung by rung.
In the passing minuets of the climb, the platform once high above me becomes increasingly closer. Don't look down they say, but there is no looking down from here for the darkness consumes my view and fall. As I reach the summit and hoist myself upon the metal grated perch, my adrenaline spikes with excitement as it becomes obvious that the hatch is unlocked! With both my feet and arms holding onto the upper most ladder rungs I position my head up against the closed hatch. I use my skull for leverage to slowly push open the hatch door while keeping three points of contact on the ladder at all times.
The door is heavy but with a little effort it swings open, followed by a loud smash, as it falls back into a resting position against the exterior steel wall of the hollow water tower I've just summited. Immediately, a rush of cool air gusts past my forehead. Thermoregulation begins to kick in as the adrenaline fueled beads of perspiration which have incessantly dripped down the bridge of my nose this entire climb now begin to cool my skin. Goosebump quickly form along the length of my exposed arms.
The hatch has led to a second ladder, but this one is affixed to the outside exterior of the tower and leads up only a slightly higher distance to a perimeter catwalk which loops around the entire elevated water tank, perched high above the surrounding land. I quickly scurry up the remaining rungs up toward the catwalk. I am now standing directly beneath the bold, black, capitalized letters which spell out WHARTON. It's a sight I have seen many a times from a driving perspective while cruising down Interstate Route 80 in Morris County, New Jersey and cranking my head sideways to gaze in curiosity. This time however, I am looking down at the highway as head lights and break lights whizzing across the interstate below become just a river of white and red colors to the naked eye.
Occasionally the roar of a Jake break billowing from the engine of a slowing tractor trailer rips through the silence of the cool late summer air, reverberating between the rising hills as Interstate 80 winds it way into the mountains of nearby Warren County to the west. I watch life move by all around me as I remain perched still and silent, sitting with my legs dangling off the catwalk simply taking in the sights and sounds of the view below. Alone I have conquered the climb, an adventure which as beckoned me over the many months I have witnessed the newly constructed water tower rise higher and higher above the Wharton New Jersey hills. Like the agile fox, I am hidden and I am happy; within the darkness of the night I enjoy the success of my catch.
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