“Sign, sign, everywhere a sign. Blockin’ out the scenery, breakin’ my mind.”

The radio plays on in the background. I’m smiling behind the wheel of my old Jeep Cherokee, bouncing lazily down a hot sand road, older than New Jersey itself. My wife is beside me, rubbing my hand, while my Labrador retriever squeezes her nose out a slightly cracked window. At the same time, my 1-year-old son calls out from his car seat, “Tree. Yay. Green!”

I’m driving my young family to go swimming in the Pine Barrens for the very first time at a spot I enjoyed as a child. As we round the bend just 10 minutes from the scorching pavement of Route 206, I spot an unusual fiberglass signpost blocking our…