The New Jersey State Forest Where Trails Lead To Ghost Lake

I’d heard whispers about Ghost Lake for months before I finally made the drive up to Jenny Jump State Forest. Friends kept mentioning the name with this half-grin, like they were in on some secret, and honestly, I thought they were exaggerating.

A lake with that kind of name in New Jersey?

It sounded more like a campfire story than an actual hiking destination.

But when I pulled up to the park office on a crisp Saturday morning, grabbed a trail map, and saw the blue-blazed path leading down toward Shades of Death Road, I realized this wasn’t just folklore.

What surprised me most wasn’t the ghost stories, though there are plenty. It was how alive the place felt, how the forest managed to be both haunting and beautiful at the same time, like nature had written its own mystery novel and left the pages open for anyone willing to hike in and read them.

The Starting Line: Jenny Jump State Forest Park Office

Walking up to the park office feels a bit like stepping back in time. The stone buildings have that old-school state park charm, the kind you see in vintage postcards, and there’s something reassuring about starting your adventure here.

I grabbed a paper map from the ranger inside, who was more than happy to point out which trails were rockiest and where the best overlooks were hiding.

This spot isn’t just administrative, it’s actually your safety net. Trail conditions change with the seasons, and having someone give you the real-time rundown beats any app.

Plus, the rangers here know the forest inside out. They’ll tell you about the bear activity, the muddy sections after a rainstorm, and even share a story or two about the history of the land.

The parking lot here is spacious and well-marked, so you won’t be circling around looking for a spot. It’s also the gateway to most of the major trails, including the Summit Trail that climbs up to the ridgeline.

If you’re planning to hike down to Ghost Lake, this is where you’ll want to orient yourself and double-check your route.

Even if you’re a seasoned hiker, stopping here first is worth it. The maps are detailed, the staff is friendly, and honestly, it just sets the right tone for the day.

You’re not rushing in blindly, you’re starting with intention. That makes all the difference when you’re navigating rocky terrain and trying to find hidden caves later on.

The Sky Watcher’s Hub: UACNJ Observatory

Right across from the main office, you’ll spot the white domes of the UACNJ Observatory rising above the trees. During the day, they look almost out of place, like something from a science fiction movie dropped into the middle of the woods.

But once you understand what they’re for, it all clicks. This is one of the few spots in New Jersey with genuine dark sky status, meaning the light pollution is low enough to see stars the way they’re meant to be seen.

I didn’t visit at night, but I’ve heard from other hikers that the stargazing events here are incredible. Volunteers from the astronomy clubs set up telescopes and walk you through constellations, planets, and even distant galaxies if the conditions are right.

It’s a whole different way to experience the forest, swapping boots for binoculars and trail maps for star charts.

The location also marks the start of the Summit Trail, which begins its climb just beyond the observatory grounds. So even if you’re not into astronomy, you’ll pass by here on your way up to the ridgeline.

The juxtaposition is kind of poetic, actually: ancient forest below, infinite sky above, and you’re right in the middle trying to take it all in.

What I loved most was how it added another layer to the park’s identity. Jenny Jump isn’t just about hiking or camping, it’s about curiosity.

Whether you’re tracing trails or tracking planets, there’s always something to discover.

The High Ground: Jenny Jump Summit Overlook

Reaching the summit feels like earning a secret. The trail up is rocky, no question about it, and your ankles will remind you of every loose stone you navigated.

But when you step out onto the overlook and see the Delaware Water Gap stretching out in front of you, all of that effort melts away. The view is massive, the kind that makes you want to stand there quietly for a while and just breathe it in.

What struck me most was the contrast. Below you, the Great Meadows spread out flat and green, farmland that looks like it was drawn with a ruler.

Above you, the ridge is jagged and wild, shaped by glaciers that carved through this landscape thousands of years ago. You’re standing at the meeting point of two totally different worlds, and it’s humbling in the best way.

The overlook itself is well-marked, and there are a few spots where you can sit on the rocks and take a break. I saw a couple of hikers pulling out sandwiches and thermoses, turning the summit into an impromptu picnic spot.

It’s that kind of place, where the destination is worth the pause.

Photographers love this spot, especially in the fall when the foliage turns the valley into a patchwork quilt of reds and oranges. But honestly, it’s stunning any time of year.

Even on a gray day, the layers of ridges fading into the distance create this moody, almost cinematic scene that stays with you long after you’ve hiked back down.

The Abandoned Foundation: The Old Building Ruins

Stumbling upon the ruins felt like finding a page torn out of history. One minute you’re following the blue blazes through dense forest, and the next you’re standing in front of these skeletal stone walls that clearly used to be something more.

There’s no plaque, no explanation, just the structure itself and whatever story you decide to imagine.

I sat on what used to be a stone porch and looked out over the eastern valley. From here, you can see for miles, and it made me wonder what this place was originally built for.

A homestead? A hunting lodge?

The forest has reclaimed most of it, but the bones of the building are still solid, still holding their ground against decades of weather and growth.

Other hikers have clearly found this spot too. There were a few names carved into the stone, some recent, some faded with age.

It’s become a kind of unofficial rest stop, a place where people pause, take photos, and leave their own small mark. I’m not usually one for graffiti, but here it felt almost like a continuation of the site’s story, layer upon layer of people passing through.

The ruins sit right at the intersection of the Summit and Ghost Lake Trails, so it’s a natural transition point. You’ve conquered the high ground, and now you’re about to descend into the mysterious, misty world below.

It’s the perfect spot to catch your breath and mentally prepare for what comes next.

The Notorious Route: Shades of Death Road

Even before you see the sign, you know this road is going to be different. Shades of Death Road has one of those names that stops you mid-step and makes you pull out your phone to confirm it’s real.

And yes, it is. The road runs along the base of the ridge, separating the forested heights from the wetlands and Ghost Lake below.

The name has sparked countless legends, most of them involving bandits, murders, or mysterious disappearances. Locals will tell you different versions depending on who you ask.

But walking along it during the day, it’s less spooky and more atmospheric. The trees hang low over the pavement, and when the mist rolls in from the fields, it creates this soft, dreamlike haze that makes everything feel a little otherworldly.

I didn’t walk the entire length, just the section where the trail crosses from the forest down to the lake. But even that short stretch left an impression.

There’s something about a place with a name like that, it sets a tone, builds anticipation, and makes the whole hike feel like you’re part of some larger narrative.

If you’re driving to the Ghost Lake parking lot, you’ll take this road to get there. It’s narrow, winding, and yes, a little eerie when the fog is thick.

But it’s also beautiful in its own quiet way, a reminder that not every landmark needs to be cheerful to be memorable.

The Main Entrance to the Water: Ghost Lake Parking Lot

If you’re not up for the full ridge hike, the Ghost Lake parking lot is your shortcut. It sits right on the shoreline, giving you immediate access to the water and the trails that loop around it.

When I arrived, the first thing I noticed was how quiet it was. No motorboats, no jet skis, just the occasional ripple from a turtle surfacing or a fish breaking the surface.

The boat launch itself is simple, just a wooden ramp leading into the water. But the lake is so choked with lily pads that launching anything bigger than a kayak seems like a challenge.

That’s part of the charm, though. Ghost Lake isn’t designed for speed or crowds.

It’s a place that rewards patience and observation.

From the parking lot, you can see the entire southern end of the lake, including the earthen dam that holds the water in place. The mist that gives the lake its ghostly reputation tends to linger here in the early morning, clinging to the surface like a blanket.

I visited mid-morning, so it had mostly burned off, but you could still see wisps of it caught in the reeds along the shore.

This is also where most of the Google Maps photos come from, the ones that show the eerie, still water and the dense vegetation surrounding it. It’s the most accessible view of Ghost Lake, and honestly, it lives up to the hype.

You don’t need to hike for hours to feel like you’ve stepped into another world.

The Hidden Sanctuary: Faery Hole Cave

Finding Faery Hole Cave felt like uncovering a secret that the forest had been keeping for centuries. Tucked into the limestone cliffs on the northern side of Ghost Lake, the entrance is about fifteen feet wide and opens into a shallow cavern that’s been carved out by water over thousands of years.

Standing at the mouth of the cave, you can feel the temperature drop, and there’s this damp, earthy smell that reminds you just how old this place is.

The cave has serious archaeological significance. Lenape artifacts were discovered here, evidence that this area was used by indigenous peoples long before European settlers arrived.

It’s humbling to think about, standing in a spot where people gathered, sheltered, and lived centuries ago. The forest around it has changed, but the cave remains, a silent witness to all that history.

It’s also a popular spot for photographers and explorers, which explains why it’s one of the top-rated points of interest on Google Maps. The entrance is wide enough to walk into, but the interior is shallow, so you’re not venturing deep into darkness.

Still, it feels significant, like you’ve stepped into a space that exists outside of normal time.

The hike to reach it isn’t difficult, but it does require a bit of scrambling over rocks. The trail from the lake leads directly to the base of the cliffs, and once you’re there, the cave is hard to miss.

Just make sure to bring a flashlight if you want to explore the interior, and be respectful of the site’s history.

The Engineering Marvel: Ghost Lake Dam

The dam at the southern end of Ghost Lake is easy to overlook if you’re not paying attention. It’s not a massive concrete structure, just an earthen embankment built over a century ago to create the lake.

But when you stop and look at it, you realize it’s a pretty impressive feat of engineering, especially considering the tools and technology available at the time.

Water trickles over the rocks where the spillway is, creating a small waterfall effect that adds a bit of movement to an otherwise still landscape. I stood there for a few minutes, watching the water spill down and listening to the sound it made, a soft, constant rush that blended with the birdsong and the rustle of leaves overhead.

From the dam, you get a clear view of what locals call Haunted Hollow, the narrow pass where the mist is said to be thickest in the early morning. I visited later in the day, so I didn’t get the full effect, but even without the fog, the area has this quiet, secluded feeling that makes it easy to see why the ghost stories started.

The trail crosses right over the dam, so you’ll walk along the top of it as you loop around the lake. It’s stable and wide enough that it doesn’t feel precarious, but there’s still something thrilling about crossing over water that’s been held back for over a hundred years.

It’s one of those small moments that makes you appreciate the history woven into every part of this forest.

The Geological Giant: The Great Glacial Erratic

When you first see the glacial erratic along the Blue Trail, your brain takes a second to process it. This boulder is the size of a small house, just sitting there in the middle of the forest like it was dropped from the sky.

Which, in a way, it was. Glaciers carried it here during the last ice age, dragging it from miles away before melting and leaving it behind as a silent monument to the power of nature.

I climbed up onto it, which is easier than it sounds thanks to the natural footholds in the rock. From the top, you get a slightly elevated view of the surrounding forest, and it’s a popular spot for photos.

The scale of the boulder is hard to capture in pictures, but when you’re standing next to it, you feel small in the best possible way.

What’s fascinating is thinking about the journey this rock took. It survived being encased in ice, transported across the landscape, and then abandoned when the glacier retreated.

It’s been sitting here for thousands of years, weathering storms and seasons, slowly becoming part of the forest ecosystem. Moss grows on its surface now, and trees have taken root in the soil that’s accumulated around its base.

The boulder also serves as a trail marker of sorts. If you’re hiking the Blue Trail back up from Ghost Lake, spotting this giant rock means you’re getting close to the final stretch.

It’s a reassuring landmark, a reminder that you’re on the right path and that the end of the loop is near.

The Final Vista: The Valley View Descent

The final leg of the hike brings you back down toward the park headquarters, and it’s the kind of ending that leaves you feeling satisfied rather than exhausted. The trail here tunnels through thick stands of mountain laurel, which bloom in late spring with clusters of pink and white flowers that look almost too perfect to be real.

I visited in the fall, so instead of blooms, I got the deep orange and red foliage that New Jersey forests are famous for.

Walking through this section feels like a cooldown after the intensity of the ridge and the mystery of the lake. The terrain is gentler, the rocks less jagged, and the path winds through the trees in a way that feels almost meditative.

You’re still in the forest, but you can sense the parking lot getting closer, and there’s a bittersweet quality to that, the hike is ending, but you’re bringing all these memories with you.

What I appreciated most about this section was how it balanced out the rest of the journey. Jenny Jump throws a lot at you: steep climbs, eerie lakes, ancient caves, and massive boulders.

But this final stretch is softer, quieter, a chance to reflect on everything you’ve seen and let it sink in before you return to the everyday world.

By the time I reached the trailhead, I was tired but in that good, accomplished way. My boots were dusty, my water bottle was empty, and I had about a hundred photos on my phone.

Jenny Jump had delivered on every promise its name suggested, and then some.

Address: 330 State Park Rd, Hope, NJ 07844.