Trenton, New Jersey State //
The Jet Lab
Restricted Areas of the Garden State
Date September 2009
Posted January 2011
Posted January 2011
After a party at Jeff's warehouse late into the night I awoke lying next to crates of circuit boards, CRTs and reels of wire. A few meters away Shane was showing signs of life, so together we went in search of Commander Yaggy. The warehouse is full of vintage arcade machines, some working, some partway through being restored, others dusty and defunct waiting to be returned to life. Somewhere amongst them Yaggy was found, tucked-up in a makeshift bed. Together we set about collecting the empty bottles and tidying up. It had been some party - our banging headaches wouldn't let us forget this as we stepped out into the afternoon sun.
The three of us stumbled around a 7-Eleven in search of supplies before jumping back into the ship and skirting around a large airfield. Tucked away at the back somewhere we spotted the battered and sinister looking buildings once used as a jet engine research laboratory. Surrounded by broken fencing and barbed wire, the nature of the enclosure was clear: signs declared it a Restricted Area. And naturally photography was completely forbidden. We picked our bags from their heap on the back seat, said goodbye to Yaggy and dashed for a hole in the fence.
Doors to the buildings were hanging off hinges and to all intents and purposes the place looked utterly ruined. A complicated mess of pipework inside suggested better finds were up above, and so we were rewarded. This particular room housed two bays, each capable of mounting a small jet engine for thorough testing. Pushing on through the plant it was unsurprisingly reminiscent of the UK's NGTE which I had visited under similar circumstances a few years prior. Despite obvious vandalism and salvaging, plenty of interest remained. Control panels, emergency hatches, process diagrams and the odd bit of documentation here and there. Later with the light outside all but gone we came across the remains of the power plant, now devoid of turbines but still retaining it's nerve center hidden away in a windowless room.
Under the moonlight we crossed back through the wasteland, negotiated the fence once more and tried to work out how we were going to get back to NYC. A smashed-up bus stop didn't look promising, and neither did hitching a ride with the locals. Shane sat down on the curbside. I was just happy in the knowledge that I still had a beer left from the night before.
Big thanks to Yaggy and Jeff for the monster party, accomodation and transport to the lab.
The three of us stumbled around a 7-Eleven in search of supplies before jumping back into the ship and skirting around a large airfield. Tucked away at the back somewhere we spotted the battered and sinister looking buildings once used as a jet engine research laboratory. Surrounded by broken fencing and barbed wire, the nature of the enclosure was clear: signs declared it a Restricted Area. And naturally photography was completely forbidden. We picked our bags from their heap on the back seat, said goodbye to Yaggy and dashed for a hole in the fence.
Doors to the buildings were hanging off hinges and to all intents and purposes the place looked utterly ruined. A complicated mess of pipework inside suggested better finds were up above, and so we were rewarded. This particular room housed two bays, each capable of mounting a small jet engine for thorough testing. Pushing on through the plant it was unsurprisingly reminiscent of the UK's NGTE which I had visited under similar circumstances a few years prior. Despite obvious vandalism and salvaging, plenty of interest remained. Control panels, emergency hatches, process diagrams and the odd bit of documentation here and there. Later with the light outside all but gone we came across the remains of the power plant, now devoid of turbines but still retaining it's nerve center hidden away in a windowless room.
Under the moonlight we crossed back through the wasteland, negotiated the fence once more and tried to work out how we were going to get back to NYC. A smashed-up bus stop didn't look promising, and neither did hitching a ride with the locals. Shane sat down on the curbside. I was just happy in the knowledge that I still had a beer left from the night before.
Big thanks to Yaggy and Jeff for the monster party, accomodation and transport to the lab.
