Archive for August 2024
It’s called Picklesburgh
Friday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Missed out on this party last year, due to a certain series of events, but every summer here in Pittsburgh there’s a festival called ‘Picklesburgh.’
The name sort of explains what it’s about, and this event is a serious draw that pulls tens of thousands of people to it. There’s pickle themed drinks, pickle eating contests, pickle oriented foods, pickles on sticks… it’s all quite briney.
Our Lady and myself headed over to the event early afternoon on a Friday, as we were informed that the Saturday and Sunday crowds would be overwhelming. Four days long, Picklesburgh is.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
It all kicked off Downtown, and we started our explore at ‘Market Square’ and then followed the police barriers to PPG Plaza, pictured above. The presence of crowds of people would have probably annoyed the architect of this space – Philip Johnson – so that made me happy inside.
Vendors were set up at tables along the route. The folks under that green and white tent (for instance) were selling all sorts of alcoholic pickle based concoctions including pickle vodka. Our Lady tried a sample of that particular poison, but she did not buy a bottle.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
It was typical weather for this time of year – here in the Paris of Appalachia – hot, and kind of humid. We fell into observation mode as the last thing either Our Lady of the Pentacle or myself wanted to do was get loaded up with brine based foodstuffs in the summer heat. It was something to see, though, I tell’s you.
Good clean fun.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
By the time we had reached the titular end of the festival’s footprint, the crowds had become massive and kind of scary.
Scary for me at least, but I’m notoriously phobic about this sort of situation. Mobs of people like this present an extremely dangerous set of circumstances should any little thing excite or scare them, and given my particular point of view and baked in anxieties – it was time to get out of dodge and head over to someplace else, with a bit of breathing room where we wouldn’t be part of a herd.
We headed over to the Monongahela River to cross over to the other side with its relatively empty sidewalks via the Smithfield Street Bridge.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
We achieved our goal and walked over the Smithfield Street Bridge, and let me tell you this – lords and ladies – it was hot out. Not a cloud in the sky, direct sunlight, hot.
We decided to head over to what’s apparently my favorite brewery, and grab a beer and a giant glass of water.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Ahh… industrial zones. You don’t have to worry about crowds in industrial zones, instead your cares devolve to just not getting hit by a truck. Home sweet home for one such as myself.
Back next week with something different at this – your Newtown Pentacle.
“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.
Shocking coruscations
Thursday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
My scuttle down the Lauer Way steps in Pittsburgh’s South Side Slopes section was meant to be just a part of my walk, the first third of a fairly long route. As mentioned previously, this was the last day of that crazy heat wave which afflicted most of the country in July. A cold front was scheduled to blast through Pittsburgh, and would bring thunderstorms and terrific amounts of rain, but it wasn’t meant to roll through for several more hours.
Apparently the weather forecast people underestimated its speedy advance, which led a humble narrator into a bit of a pickle..
– photo by Mitch Waxman
As described several times, Pittsburgh has quite a dynamic atmosphere. I’ve always known oceanic weather, given my long occupancy in the archipelago of New York Harbor. Large shifts in dew point and temperature are fairly predictable and play put over hours, given the governing effect on weather systems that is caused by the nearby ocean. Here – big fronts of continental plain origin can just blow through suddenly, and you can observe five different kinds of sky in just an afternoon. River and mountain valleys found next door to the flat lands in Ohio are the cause, or so I’m led to believe.
My plan had been to hang around on a rail bridge spanning over a set of Norfolk Southern rail road tracks, and wait around for a train to come. I fitted the correct lens for that job onto the camera and got busy waiting.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
I’ve shot here before, and it’s a fairly decent spot where you can actually see the signal lights. Said lights can tell you if and where a train is coming from, once you learn how to read their codes.
That sky though… it was turning a bit ominous and the wind had kicked up significantly. Right about when I shot the exposure test image directly above is when I felt the first drops of rain.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
An unholy storm broke out suddenly. One found a spot to stand in which there was a bit of tree cover, but once the storm really started whipping around that became a precipitant liability. Within a minute, I was soaked to the skin, except for a patch of my shirt where I was protecting the camera, directly under my chin. My other hand was grasping the umbrella, but the rain was coming down diagonally at the moment that the shot above was gathered so the umbrella wasn’t all that useful.
Sheiste!
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The spot I was in was pretty far from anything that could be construed as shelter from the storm, but I used my NYC honed senses to find and occupy a spot between a building wall and a mailbox, and then positioned the umbrella so that it was touching the wall. This kept my torso, and both the camera and the bag, somewhat dry. I whipped out my phone and called for a Lyft ride out, but this was about 5:30 p.m. on a week day so I had quite a wait ahead of me.
Double sheiste!
– photo by Mitch Waxman
After getting back to HQ, and by that point the storm had passed and the weather had become unbearably beautiful, I peeled off my soaked clothes and laid out all my possessions to dry. The camera was fine.
Moe the dog was particularly amused by the predicament, and he is pictured above in a moment of his reverie.
Back tomorrow with something different – at this – your Newtown Pentacle.
“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 