The Newtown Pentacle

Friday

– photo by Mitch Waxman

My latest scuttle started pretty close to the highest point of elevation that is found within the confines of Pittsburgh (said to be some 1,370 feet up from the MLW or Mean Low Water point as defined by the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, and ‘officialdom’ at large), and began atop upon a landform which I’m led to believe was once colloquially known as ‘Knob Hill’ but which is referred to in modernity as either ‘Observatory Hill’ or ‘Perry Hilltop.’ The ‘Perry’ in that naming was meant to honor the memory, and commemorate the military service, of Commodore Perry.

One has been exploring the various neighborhoods of Pittsburgh’s ‘North Side,’ on foot, for the last few weeks, with this walk the latest excursion.

As is my habit, a thorough Google Maps examination of the route was obliged in advance, but construction and other obstacles you might encounter along the way are things you just have to deal with ‘on the day,’ and you really need to be able to adapt. Think on your feet. All that.

Also habitual, I started at the high elevation point and then walked downhill, as I’m fairly old now. Feeble too. A scuttling fossil, really.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

Interesting homes lined this particular roadway, which in this case was a steeply graded course called ‘Mairdale.’ This one would then lead me to that one, where I’d make a left…, and then…, and then…, you get the idea.

This is one of the neighborhoods that the news people on the TV will encourage one to avoid, with lurid tales of savage crime and anarchic adolescents.

This neighborhood reminds me a great deal of the Bushwick Avenue corridor, back in Brooklyn, prior to around 1990 when the gentrification hammers began to fall. Economically driven tidal forces smashed that homegrown community into diaspora, in order to make room for wealthier strangers and their coffee shops.

That doesn’t seem to have happened up here, yet, but it’s coming. I can just feel it coming, in the same manner as when you say ‘I think I’m getting sick.’ You’re not ill, quite yet, but…

– photo by Mitch Waxman

Mairdale Avenue transmogrifies into ‘Woods Run Avenue’ somewhere along this route. To my right were really nice and well kept homes and neighborhoods which climbed up slopes and over hills, and to my left was a fairly large city park, one with a celestial observatory at its apex. The shot above looks back at where I’d just been.

My decided upon plan had involved moving into and through that facility, which is dubbed as ‘Riverview Park,’ but I encountered a pretty big construction project along the way which occluded and blocked the entrance, and I had to ‘rekajigger’ my path accordingly.

What drew me in this direction, for this section of the scuttle at least, was the presence of Pittsburgh’s newest bridge – a high flying pedestrian and bike connector which overflies the valley that Mairdale Street rides through, and connects the Brighton Heights neighborhood on the next elevation with the park.

That’s the sort of thing which I always want to take a look at.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

Your humble narrator was feeling pretty good.

Striding along, enjoying the sights and the sounds of morning bird song. The weather was great, low 60’s with zero humidity. For once I was out in the early part of the morning, I guess it was about 9-9:30 a.m. The usual secure pocket rich ‘Mitch suit’ was arrayed about my rotting form, including the filthy black raincoat – sans lining as it was warmish.

Camera wise, it was a 24-240mm zoom lens, and in the bag I had a couple of primes – a 16mm and a 50mm.

It was mentioned, a couple of weeks back, that my filthy black raincoat needed a wash due to there being a big splodge of mud on it, in the butt region. Everybody suggested just washing it. My butt, I mean.

I promised that I’d tell that mud butt story when I got to it, so…

– photo by Mitch Waxman

Right after that construction sign, the sidewalk – as it turned out – was covered in an incredibly thin and completely invisible layer of clear ice. It had been below freezing the night before, atmospheric temperature wise, but…

As I stepped on that invisible tenth of a millimeter layer of ice at full walking speed, one suddenly found himself hanging in the air for a good half second – body fully horizontal to the ground. I basically pivoted ninety degrees at about belt height, and then dropped to the cement like a bucket of rotting pig guts. My shoulders hit first.

Wham!

It looked dramatic enough that somebody who was driving past pulled over to the curb to ask me a few times if I needed assistance.

I laughed and said ‘nope, landed mainly on my butt.’ I did actually come close to cracking my head on the sidewalk, but that enveloping Mitch suit of mine (springtime variant) includes a thick cotton ‘hoodie’ style sweatshirt, and the gathered up fabric padded the impact for my head and neck region. I did clack my teeth together though, when my chin hit my chest.

While mid fall, I grew concerned about the teeth clacking thing and managed to get ahead of really hurting myself.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

One fell like a photographer, actually, protecting the camera and camera bag as I went. A lens cap popped off one of the lenses, that’s all that happened to the gear.

It’s funny, the way that the brain works. This entire slip and fall tale had to play out in less than a second or a second and a half, but I went into ‘slow motion’ mode, and managed to wiggle myself into a safer pose while hanging in mid air. Felt like I was floating there for thirty seconds. I have a similar memory of the fall which busted my ankle. Perception of time alters, everything slows down. During that one, I managed to get my hands behind my neck and protected the spine while falling.

Must be what it’s like to be a squirrel.

I did end up with a lovely portrait of my butt cheeks and part of my belt, rendered in mud, on the black raincoat though. Had to walk through ‘the hood’ with that on my butt, so win. My shoulders and neck were a bit stiff afterwards, but I had just cracked the back of my noggin when smacking into the ground. Didn’t crack my teeth!

Can’t win.

Back tomorrow.

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