Diagonal Scuttling – Emerald View Trail 1
Friday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
One of the scuttling paths which I had been ‘saving,’ throughout the broken ankle nightmare and for future ‘stupid fun,’ played out along the ‘Emerald View Trail’ here in Pittsburgh recently.
This walk started off right here (Google Maps link).
Essentially, this is a wooded and natural surface hiking trail, one which proceeds diagonally down the face of Pittsburgh’s very steep Mount Washington. The path I was taking would carry me in a ‘westerly and ‘down’ direction. If I had to rate this one for difficulty or danger, it would be a 3 out of 10. I wouldn’t recommend walking this pathway if it’s rained, at all, in the previous 48 hours, due to mud.
Ain’t a walk across a bedroom carpet, but it wasn’t exactly a stroll through Ypres either, this scuttle.
The landmark for the trailhead is called ‘Point of View Park,’ and you’ll know you found it when you see a monumental bronze sculpture of George Washington staring down a Seneca Chief called Guyasuta.
Via Google – The bronze landmark on Grandview Avenue in Pittsburgh is titled ‘Point of View.’ and was sculpted by James A. West. The art was installed in 2006, a 750-pound artwork which sits at ‘Point of View Park’ on Mount Washington. It depicts George Washington face-to-face with Seneca leader Guyasuta, looking out over the city’s rivers and Point State Park.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
That’s the trailhead, pictured. The elevation at this spot is somewhere’s around 600 feet over the Monongahela River, and its flood plain. In the distance, the waters of the Monongahela are mixing with those of the Allegheny, and forming the headwaters of the Ohio River.
It should be mentioned that the Newtown Pentacle time warp is still in effect, but a bit less severe as I kind of took it easy at the end of July and start of August. The photos were captured on July 14, and these words are being inscribed on August 5. If my scheduling is correct, you’re seeing this at the end of the second week of September.
How’d the near future work out? It looks pretty grim right now…
– photo by Mitch Waxman
As mentioned, one has been ‘saving’ this one for when my busted ankle had fully healed up. It’s a natural surface, albeit one which has been ‘worked’ by grounds crews. The section with the gravel pictured above soon transmogrifies into a packed down and ‘formed’ soil path.
With palpitant heart, one entered the verge…
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Not too bad, huh? It was humid up in there, amongst the trees. Lotsa swarming little bugs buzzing about too.
As I often say: There’s a reason our ancestors paved over everything. Nature wants to digest you.
Problem for me was that at this ‘high summer’ moment which I was walking through here, you couldn’t see much due to all the leafy growth. Time was passed, thereby, shooting pics of the woods while scuttling along.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Here and there, there would be a clearing where a tree went down, and a bit of sunlight would filter through the canopy. There were also a few spots where the trail was at best a couple/three feet across, as it traveled past a steep section of incline, and that was a little worrisome.
Balance issues continue to plague me, a lasting consequence of the ankle situation. Overall, I’m ‘recovered’ at this point, but…
Almost two years out from the injury, I’m still feeling arthritic ‘tightness’ around the joint whenever it’s raining or the sky threatens it, and my ‘proprioception’ of the space that my left foot is physically occupying is almost always ‘off.’ This tends to throw off balance, and is related to the PTSD symptoms I’ve been experiencing around steps and stairs.
Proprioception is one of your senses. It’s your body’s ability to sense its own position and movements in space. Proprioception is a complex automatic process that you can also fine-tune. Many conditions and injuries can affect it.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Finally, after about twenty minutes of diagonal dirt walking, a break in the trees allowed for a shot or two of the surroundings. There are a few different paths to explore in this section, which branch off of the main trail. Signage rates these alternate paths by difficulty, and apparently I was walking on the sort of path you’d take a child on.
I imagine that the more difficult ones involve climbing or something else that’s sweat inducing. No bueno.
Back next week with more from the Paris of Appalachia – at this – your Newtown Pentacle.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
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Something wicked that way scuttled
Thursday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
This post carries shots from the end of a medium length walk, on a quite warm day, that began in the hills of the Borough of Millvale, then followed the Allegheny River along a waterfront trail, and deposited my stinking pre-corpse onto the ‘Three Rivers Heritage Trail’ here in Pittsburgh.
Loathsome, your humble narrator was. A sweaty mess by this stage of the day, the dripping eidolon of dissolution, as well as a cautionary tale told to the young. Blech!
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Landmark, that’s the 16th street David McCullough Bridge, nearby the former Heinz factory on Pittsburgh’s ‘North Side.’
The horror… ‘swamp ass’ was driving me crazy.
‘Swamp Ass’ is when you’ve been ‘shvitzing’ so heavily that your underclothes start becoming a burden, and bunching up. That’s the road to a blister, buddy!
Upon arriving back at HQ, I discovered that my T-Shirt was thoroughly soaked, and had to weigh about three pounds, with all that absorbed sweat in it. Phlegh!
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Age, and the deprivations to the physical plant which it induces, are very much present with me on these scuttles.
I’ve had to learn to work around my ‘diminishing capacity,’ and especially so after the busted ankle incident. A lot of thought goes to the ‘carry’ inside the camera bag these days, wherein a zoom lens I refer to as ‘the brick’ is often found. The backpack, and I’ve actually gotten on a scale at a doctor’s office with and without it, weighs just under thirty pounds.
Add in the terrified reaction people have when they see me coming.
Old ladies clutch at their purses, children cry, dogs howl, birds fall dead out of the sky, flowers close up their blossoms like it’s night time as I near. I’m also likely the worst person who’s ever been born, just ask anyone, especially those whom I consider friends. They’ll tell you.
Why do I ever leave the house, or try to interact with people? Literally, everybody hates me, on sight.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
That’s the Veterans Bridge, above.
Luckily, I found a shaded spot which offered concrete blocks to sit upon. Since the concrete was shaded, it was endo rather than exothermic, and I planted my horrific form atop it, allowing my body heat to bleed out, through the ass, and into the block.
Use your environment – and your ass – to your advantage!
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Finally, ‘civilization.’
Simple plan from this spot, I’d walk across the river on one of those ‘Three Sisters’ bridges – pictured above – and then it would be less than a half mile’s worth of scuttling to get to a T Light Rail station, which would carry me back home to Moe the Dog and Our Lady of the Pentacle.
They still seem to like me.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
My timing could not have been better… made it home just before that sky pictured above exploded with lightning, and wind, and storm.
Back tomorrow with something different – at this – your Newtown Pentacle.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
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Allegheny Foundations
Wednesday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
As you might recall from prior posts, your humble narrator was scuttling along the Millvale Riverfront Park frontage at the Allegheny River, and heading west to connect with the larger ‘Three River Heritage Trail,’ on this particular walk – which occurred in early July.
It had been a hot day with high humidity, and quite uncomfortable. A powerful thunderstorm had been forecast to arrive in the late afternoon, a condition which I was very aware of.
The plan was to cross around four to five miles of trail, along the riverfront, and then catch a T light rail to get back to Dormont before the vault of heaven exploded with rain and lightning.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
A strong smell of sewage was in the air. Residential, I’d venture.
After all those years on Newtown Creek, I can tell you by scent alone if it’s commercial or residential. A couple of work trucks from Alcosan – the agency who handles Pittsburgh’s wastewater problems – were parked under one of the bridges, and there were a group of people, in ‘hi-viz’ orange and yellow shirts, engaged in what looked like a serious conversation nearby a pipe.
None of my business, and so I walked on. See, I’ve evolved. Didn’t stick my nose into it the way I would have back along the creek.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
All that steel is part of the system of trusses and ramps connected to the 33rd street rail bridge, which spans the river between Lawrenceville and the north shore of the Allegheny here.
A new ball cap I’ve been wearing isn’t flash orange, rather it’s bright white. Found it on Amazon, and the promise was that this ball cap will ‘wick’ your sweat up and evaporate it using some system of laser cut ventilation holes in the crown, which will in turn cool off your noggin.
The cap kind of did what the manufacturer promised, I’d mention, but Our Lady of the Pentacle and myself has decided that it looks like the sort of hat you’d normally expect to see worn by a someone’s Grandfather on a golf course.
It’s now officially known as the ‘Korean Grandfather’s Golf Cap.’
– photo by Mitch Waxman
My headphones were inserted firmly into the ear holes, and I was listening to a playlist of music so familiar to me that it’s kind of become my theme music over the years. Basically, it’s a mix tape of tunes that used to make me feel things back when I could still feel things. I’m so emotionally numb these days that…
One found himself entering what I often describe as being a ‘vegetation tunnel.’ Enveloped completely by the surrounding verge, with sight lines occluded or blocked by nature’s excess, it’s best to just ‘lean into it’ in areas like this since there’s really not much to see.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
A plaque is set into the walkway, here’s a shot of it, describing the significance and creators of this ramp/bridge in this section of the trail.
Whereas I fairly despise those urban renewal processes which demolished whole neighborhoods in the name of building highways, those same processes also created a fantastic series of waterfront bike and pedestrian ‘rail trails’ all around the edges of Pittsburgh. Dichotomy.
Yes, I can hold and defend two contradictory points of view at the same time. Rules are arbitrary, conflict is normal, everything will work out in the end – one way or another. Don’t ever forget – lots of people might think and pronounce that you’re an ‘icehole’ – but that doesn’t mean that you’re not also right.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The weather was growing warmer as I walked, and the humidity rose. The afternoon storm was nearing, and I needed to ‘burn some shoe leather’ quick if I didn’t want to get caught out in it.
Back tomorrow.
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Millvale Waterfront Trailing
Tuesday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
How did the humbly narrating chicken cross this road? Carefully.
Millvale, a Borough of Allegheny County which sits opposite Pittsburgh’s Lawrenceville on the opposing shore of the Allegheny River, that’s where I was. The intersection pictured above allows pedestrian and bike traffic the chance to cross a de facto highway interchange which is… an interesting experience… and it requires pedestrians to go pretty far out of their way to simply cross the street.
Saying that, managed it. Carefully.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
To access the riverfront park, you cross over a set of grade level rail tracks and then under a rail bridge which carries another set of them.
These tracks connect to the 33rd street rail bridge, and ultimately over to the north side tracks leading to the Merchant Street Bridge to the west, then to the rail trench in Allegheny Commons Park, the Island Avenue Yard, eventually Conway, and the continent beyond. There’s other rail connections which branch off, of course.
As mentioned yesterday – methodology wise – one chunk at a time.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
I did break off of my route for about a half hour and walked under a mile or so down the path pictured above. There’s a neat clearing back there, which offered what would be great views of passing locomotives, but I definitively ‘felt eyes’ on me back there.
Where this path leads is super isolated, and I’m 100% sure that there were encampments populated by people who wouldn’t take too kindly to some stranger with a camera showing up. I turned on my heels and reversed direction, and couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched for a distance. Kept on doing the heel spin thing to see if I was being stalked, but didn’t see anything or anyone. Still…
I’ve learned to listen to instinct, over the years.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Back on the proper trail, and moving westwards through the waterfront park, I headed down towards a boat launch where I hoped to be able to see the water, a viewpoint largely blocked by all of these trees.
Really lives up to the ‘sylvania’ part of this state’s name, I tell’s ya. There were a few other people milling about, riding bikes and that sort of thing.
I headed down to the ramp.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
This is what the scene looked like – all hand held – to the camera.
Part of what I wanted to do in this ‘zone’ revolved around getting to know those new magnetic lens filters mentioned a few posts back. I found a spot where I could put the bag down, get the tripod out, and get busy.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Ten stop ND, with a stacked circular polarizer, for this one.
I’ve been desirous of shooting ‘low and slow’ for a bit now, and this was one of the first chances to do so that’s popped up in a while. There’s no point to the exercise if there isn’t flowing water in the shot, or something else that’s moving which you want to blur away, using this technique.
Back tomorrow with more.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
Buy a book!
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All downhill from Millvale
Monday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Pittsburgh’s metro area features a bunch of smaller neighboring communities around its municipal borders, and along the Allegheny River’s shoreline – just north easterly of Troy Hill and west of Etna – is found Millvale.
I’ve been to Millvale before, specifically to the fantastic riverfront trail public space they host, but this time around I decided to start things off up in their hills. A rideshare carried me here from Dormont, in the South Hills region of Pittsburgh, and I was dropped off at a randomly chosen point of prominence with some altitude.
‘Not every walk has to be a marathon, Mitch…’ that’s something I try to remind myself of these days.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
It was a warm and humid July day in Pittsburgh, and your humble narrator was prepared for both shvitz and a slog. I had a deadline ahead of me, driving my steps as it were, since a weather system was meant to be blowing in during the afternoon which would bring thunderstorms and all sorts of airborne chaos to the region.
The following week would be subsumed by a heat wave and wildfire smoke conditions, which would sideline me for several days.
As a note: The Newtown Pentacle Time Warp remains strongly in effect. These shots were gathered on the 7th of July, and the words you’re reading were encoded on the 19th of the same month. If this scheduled post publishes when I believe it will, you’re seeing this on a Monday in early September. Building up the ‘lead time’ for these postings seriously ‘depressurizes’ my life.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Steep, that’s how I’d describe the streets in this part of Millvale.
I was heading, ultimately, downhill and towards the Millvale Riverfront Park. Said park adjoins the larger Three Rivers Heritage Trail, sections of which I’ve walked several times. My normal habit for this area is to use the trails found on Herr’s Island, and then cross back over to ‘the triangle’ via the 40th street Bridge, but this time around I wanted to stick to the northern shoreline and follow the water.
Did I mention how uncomfortable the weather was, on this particular day?
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The TV weather people had described the humidity with the term ‘air you could wear.’ It had to be 80% and rising as I made my way down to the waterfront. The breeze was tepid, or absent. Only thing ‘on my side’ during this one was that the burning thermonuclear eye of God itself was occluded by thick banks of smoke and clouds.
It was the sort of day that required me to dry my hands off before setting up a shot, as sweat was emanating out from the palms and between my fingers. Hot!
As usual, the summertime ‘Mitch suit’ was worn – cargo shorts, a t-shirt, and a white Guayabera as an outer shell. The Carribeans know what they’re doing, as far as dressing during humid weather with evaporative cooling in mind.
The camera bag was full of gear, as one had prepared for a variety of circumstances when filling it. As mentioned a few posts back, I recently had to buy a new pair of shoes, so I was walking all springy and bouncy.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The steep residential street I was walking on, and which all these photos were recorded along, is called Logan Street – if memory serves.
I had randomly picked an intersection at the top of a hill to start this one from, specifically a roadway which intersects with another road that leads westerly back to Troy Hill. Said intersecting road is set in along a ridge line, which promises interesting views. My pet name for that road is ‘next.’
Methodology wise, I like to explore regions and areas in ‘chunks.’ You do one chunk this week, then another the next, and then another…
Over the last three and a half years, with about an eight month interval lost to recovering from a busted ankle, a lot of my scuttling time here in Pittsburgh has been spent walking around and getting to know the fascinating ‘South Side Slopes’ area. It’s an easy reach from HQ, and is also quite convenient as far as transit goes, but novelty wears away.
Over the course of time, you walk one path and then another, and eventually stitch together the ‘where’s’ and ‘when’s,’ and just maybe the ‘why’s’ of a place. The ‘how’s’ are usually carefully hidden behind the ‘what’s.’ At the end of the game, one has hopefully developed some geographic knowledge about a place.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Yes, Millvaliens, I’m not going to discuss ‘the’ church, or its Maxo Vanko murals, for this post. That will be a future endeavor after I manage to talk myself inside, to wave the camera around. No point in talking about something I can’t show, as of yet.
Instead, I’m just scuttling right past it, and towards that underpass which carries Route 28 above the street instead.
Back with more, tomorrow.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
Buy a book!
“In the Shadows at Newtown Creek,” an 88 page softcover 8.5×11 magazine format photo book by Mitch Waxman, is now on sale at blurb.com for $30.
The Newtown Pentacle 