Archive for the ‘Pennsylvania’ Category
Stretching my legs in Pittsburgh
Monday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The shot above was captured from the top floor of a hospital parking garage, here in Pittsburgh. A humble narrator had just dropped Our Lady of the Pentacle off for her medical procedure, early in the morning on a cloud struck day. I’d be returning here about six hours later to gather her up and bring her back home, then spent a good week or so trying to shield her from the necessities of life, and the affections of Moe the Dog. The second of two such intervals, responsibility at home precluded one from doing much else. Exigency, it affects us all.
Sleeping was my main goal during this interval, and my personal exercise schedule suffered, which resulted in a creeping bodily stiffness and a sound not unlike crushing handfuls of popcorn emerging from the knees, while walking up and down stairs. After receiving the ‘all clear’ from her medical professionals, Our Lady insisted that I get the hell out of the house and go ‘do my thing.’
– photo by Mitch Waxman
One rode the T light rail from HQ to the end of the line on Pittsburgh’s North Side, an elevated station across the street from the site of pilgrimage and worship for the Yinzers – a sports ball stadium wherein dwell the Pittsburgh Steelers. That is Acrisure, formerly Heinz, Stadium. The Pittsburgh people call it Heinz, not Acrisure.
My plan for the afternoon was to ease into the walk, but to also include as many flights of stairs into the equation as possible. Ligaments, tendons, and joints – they all formed up into an internal rhythm section. My headphones were plugged into the appropriate orifices, and I was listening to a playlist of Black Sabbath albums.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The path I had chosen for the day was informed by the several hospital trips we had made in the prior three weeks by car, and the bridge we drive over in this pursuit. Ultimately, I’d be riding the T back home at the end of the walk, which I’d pick up at the first stop it makes in the central zone of Pittsburgh, at the Station Square stop. It was lovely out, with Pittsburgh displaying an uncharacteristically clear sky, not macerated with dynamic banks of cloud.
It was ‘shorts and a sweatshirt’ weather, which is my favorite sort of atmosphere. For one reason or another I was drawn into using my zoom lens at its widest setting – 24mm – for much of the first half of the walk.
Come with? More tomorrow at 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.
Rear View Mirror
Friday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
A humble narrator is stretched a bit thin for content at the moment, given that most of the last month has been consumed by a medical drama experienced by Our Lady of the Pentacle. She’s doing great, after an elective but necessary set of procedures, although I don’t want to puncture her privacy by talking specifically about it here. She suffers enough, my bride, via her husband’s ‘open book’ mannerisms and his incessancy.
Today’s post includes shots which didn’t make it into the daily posts over the last few weeks. Pictured above is the driver’s side POV from the Mobile Oppression Platform, gazing back at a massive traffic jam I found myself trapped in one afternoon after a horrific vehicle collision which occurred about a mile ahead of this position, on a road called Liberty.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Since shooting this series of shots of CSX trains rolling past that brewery I like to carouse at, there has been little opportunity for such hedonist pursuit. There’s a whole series of train shots coming at you in the next couple of weeks, many gathered in the short intervals of Our Lady’s Doctor’s appointments.
Moe the dog has been utterly confused by all of this unfamiliar activity, as the world has not been explicitly revolving around his constant need for fun, play, and tiny mammal terrorizing. It’s been a 7 a.m. to midnight kind of deal for me, as you literally can’t take your eyes off of him lest he start chewing on the Declaration of Independence or continue with his attempts to commit Squirrel genocide one bite at a time.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
I’ve also been uncharacteristically static, not getting my exercises in. All of the internally lubricated parts have stiffened and my knees have started making popcorn sounds when I’m walking up stairs. Luckily, Our Lady has received a cautioned ‘All Clear’ from the Docs and I can soon resume my peregrinations again.
The shot above depicts the Saw Mill Run waterway running through a narrow st the oft mentioned, and nearby to HQ ,‘Seldom Seen Greenway’ trail.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Before all the drama began, during a visit to the nearby community of Homestead, this absolute unit of a church caught my eye just as the burning thermonuclear eye of god itself was setting. Can’t tell you much, or in fact anything, about it other than it was quite stout.
I’ll be back, and hopefully will be able to get inside of it for a lookie-loo.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
One remains fascinated by the T light rail here in Pittsburgh. Can’t tell you why, except to say that street cars are something truly novel to me. You can take the boy away from the subway, I guess, but…
This one had just dropped me off in the Dormont section of Pittsburgh.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Another CSX unit rounding the bend nearby that brewery on the South Side which I’ve been attending, this one from either late August or early September, is pictured above. I cannot for the life of me figure out the schedule these companies abide by. Sometimes there will be three or four trains in an hour, whereas others you can sit there for three hours and nada. At least there’s beer. The Norfolk Southern people seem a whole lot busier here in Pittsburgh, and you’ll see a few examples of that in the coming weeks.
Anyway, the interval of staying at HQ to care for a recuperating Our Lady of the Pentacle seems to be at an end. She’s once again whirling, ever whirling. Back to the streets for me, and the odd out of town day trip every now and again.
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.
Youghiogheny River Lake
Tuesday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
In 1806, the National Road was conceived and funded by the United States’ first President and Congress with the goal of providing an east west route out of Washington D.C., to enable westward expansion, trade, and travel. Today, it’s called Route 40 and it’s a part of the Interstate Highway system, which incorporates several local roads into its path. After visiting the Great Cross in Pennsylvania’s Jumonville (described yesterday), on a day trip out of Pittsburgh, a humble narrator piloted his Mobile Oppression Platform into the corduroy landscapes of the Laurel Highlands. Along the way, in a mist choked ‘hollow,’ the 1944 vintage Youghiogheny River Lake was encountered. I felt the need to pull off the National Road and get a few shots of the lake. That’s the bridge which Route 40 rides across it, in the shot above.
There was a scheduled destination which I was trying to make, in Western Maryland, but as always – I had left HQ in Pittsburgh early and built time into the schedule for moments of serendipity.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
I didn’t venture too far from my route, and these shots were gathered in the parking lot of a recreational marina along Route 40, which sat on a small prominence overlooking the water. The Youghiogheny River is dammed nearby, by a United States Army Corps of Engineers installation that provides flood control, and is also a hydroelectric generating station which adds 12 megawatts of power to the electrical grid.
The Youghiogheny River is a tributary of the Monongahela River, which starts its southeastern journey away from ‘the Mon’ back in the Pittsburgh satellite city of McKeesport. The river is 132 miles long, and the ‘Yough’s’ drainage hinterlands ultimately flow into a watershed feeding into the somewhat distant Mississippi River. There’s a huge tourism and sport fishing industry here at the lake, which is also used as a drinking water resovoir, and the waterfront here draws about a million visitors a year to an otherwise quite rural area.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
While I was shooting these photos, a few codgers were getting ready to lower their boats into the water, off of pickup towed trailers, and they were getting ready to try their luck at harvesting fish. The lake is stocked annually, I’m told, by the USACE and the Pennsylvania Game people with a variety of game species like trout.
This was my first time roaming about in this part of the country, and along the route I encountered something I’ve never witnessed before – National Parklands which were once battlegrounds. In the case of one of these parks, Fort Necessity, the battles occurred before the birth of the United States itself, during the French and Indian War in 1754. Everywhere you go, there’s something ‘George Washington’ related.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
This was largely a scouting mission for me, part of learning about the greater region which Pittsburgh is at the center of. Pittsburgh is a cultural and financial megalopolis separate and distinct from the massive East Coast’s seaboard megalopolis, with New York at its center, or the Great Lakes megalopolis centered around by the zone between Detroit and Chicago. If you’re unfamiliar with the megalopolis concept, here’s a Wikipedia page that sums it up.
I’m making an effort, at the moment, to explore the edges of my new home. I’m using what the local CBS station’s weather people display on their forecast map as one of my guides to map it out. The weather map I see on the news extends into the middle of Ohio, the north side of West Virginia, Pennsylvania’s city of Erie to the north, and to Western Maryland to southeast. The latter is where I was heading on this particular morning.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Also found along the route to Western Maryland, but much closer to Pittsburgh, is the Laurel Caverns outfit. I remember seeing photos of the caverns on a View-Master disc when I was a little kid, and I’ve always wanted to experience them for myself. That’ll be one of my winter day trips, though. For you youngsters, an analog version of ‘Tik Tok’ travel videos is what View-Master offered several generations before the digital era happened.
This was actually quite a drive. I had started out at about 5 in the morning, with a thermos of coffee, a full bottle of ice water (and a Genoa Salami sandwich) in the car. For vast stretches of the route, the speed limit along this route is quite high, sometimes it was 70 mph. Other sections go through towns and cities, and the speed limit drops as low as 25 mph, or 15 in school zones. Traffic lights pop up here and there as well. I could have gone a bit out of my way and taken the high speed Pennsylvania Turnpike, but then I would have had to pay a bunch of tolls and missed all the cool stuff I saw without gaining a significant advantage in terms of travel time.
As mentioned – scouting for the future, that’s me.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
As is my habit, I had extensively researched the route in advance and had a number of saved locations plugged into Google Maps. At one point, I passed by signage extolling the fact that the Mason Dixon line had just been crossed and I was officially in the ‘South.’
More tomorrow, 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 Great Cross
Monday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
A humble narrator is starting to explore the larger region surrounding Pittsburgh, and recent day trip saw me behind the wheel of the Mobile Oppression Platform and pulling out of my driveway in the dark at about 5 in the morning. A bit of a long drive awaited, and I was heading in the direction of Uniontown, Pennsylvania. There’s a United Methodists religious organization site, in a section near Uniontown called Jumonville, which offers visitors the chance to visit with their ‘The Great Cross’ monument. Said cruciform is perched atop one of the Appalachian ridge line prominences common to the area. Specifically, the rood is on a hill called Dunbars Knob, that sits atop Chestnut Ridge.
I wanted to be there at Sunrise, and catch the light. The cloud cross in the shot above was serendipitous, if you ask me, and it ain’t photoshopped in, btw. It was really hanging up there in the sky for a few minutes, just as the burning thermonuclear eye of god itself was rising in the vault right behind me. It was a bit of a task to keep my, and the camera’s, shadows out of frame.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
It took a bit of navigating to find the entrance at Jumonville, which is a Christian retreat and summer camp, but I made it there by about 6:30 in the morning. The day was brightening, but the sun was still rising, and behind a different ridge line. You’re greeted by a sign, after parking along the road, which welcomes visitors but lays out a few do’s and dont’s for the property. Unarmed with specifically proscribed firearms or illegal drugs, however, I set out to see the sight.
It’s a bit of walk to get up the path to the actual monument, a long spiraling path set against the ground at a 7-10 degree angle. I’m pretty sure they designed it that way to offer a metaphorical meaning to the walk – it’s difficult to get to the cross, but easy to walk away from it – or something like that. Religious architecture often incorporates tangible example into its design. It was only about a 15 minute walk, but I really felt the effort in the thigh and calf muscles.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
I set the camera up for landscape work, with the tripod and a neutral density filter to ‘slow the light’ a bit. The Great Cross is sixty feet high, was erected in 1950, weighs 55 tons and is supported by a 183 ton concrete foundation which contains the names of the thousands of Sunday School kids who contributed dimes to fund its construction. The Great Cross is a bonafide landmark and attraction which is said to be visible on a clear day for some 75 miles, and built of steel and concrete.
Additionally, Uniontown has been vampire free for 72 years now.
This part of south western Pennsylvania is not one I’ve visited before, and it is staggeringly beautiful. The geology of the place involves a series of steeply ridged highlands, which descend precipitously into deep shadowed valleys which will often have water running through them. These valleys are often referred to as ‘Hollows.’ The weather at the top was cool but clear, but a half hour later when I was driving through the valley, the air was choked with pea soup fog and less than a hundred feet of visibility. In my readings about the area, this sort of geology is sometimes referred to as a ‘corduroy landscape.’
– photo by Mitch Waxman
In the last year, and it’s almost been a year now since I abandoned ‘home sweet hell’ back in NYC, my focus has been on learning about my immediate vicinity – basically a 30 mile circle around the center of Pittsburgh. I’ve now got a catalog of spots, and how to get to them, where I can shoot trains or urban landscapes or ‘city stuff.’ The larger Pittsburgh region, however, is what I’m currently looking at. That includes parts of West Virginia, Maryland, and Ohio. Jumonville is about 50 miles from HQ, but it’s a long drive – time wise – as it’s all local roads between here and there. The reason I left HQ so early, in fact, was to beat the traffic.
The Jumonville compound itself was immaculate, with well cared for grounds and cabins for the faithful to stay at, when attended an event or retreat. The only concern I had here was that a male Deer might come charging at me out of the tree line, as this was the very beginning of rut season and the bucks can be aggressive.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
I’m pretty sure that column of vapor is coming from a power plant, which is found in one of those foggy valleys, or ‘hollows.’
Satisfied with myself, the camera gear started to get packed up, but a few last shots were squeezed out. There was a second leg of my day trip which I’d need to get moving on, and a series of shots I’d miss out on if I didn’t get there within a proscribed interval. For those, I’d be crossing the actual Mason-Dixon Line and entering Confederate territory.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The presence of the barbed wire fencing around the cross, and its obvious metaphor, is not lost upon me. Saying that, they’ve probably had graffiti issues in the past and you have to keep strangers from messing with your stuff. If anyone from Jumonville is reading this, I had a very nice experience at your place, and thanks for allowing strangers and visitors on to your land – as you do. Lovely.
Back tomorrow with more from the Laurel Highlands, 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.
More Montour, please, and onions
Friday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
A humble narrator likes to ‘kill two birds with one stone’ as much as possible. Our Lady of the Pentacle announced that we had arrived at a shortfall in terms of the stock of fresh fruits and vegetables in our refrigerator, with said statement coinciding with one of my ‘every other day’ jaunts of exercise schedule. We have been buying this form of comestible from a farm’s retail operation, in Pittsburgh’s South Park suburb, which is about a 30 minute drive from HQ. Coincidentally, one of the sections of the Montour Trail is about a 10 minute drive from said farm stand. Hence…
I didn’t think that there would be much interest in seeing the onions, apples, broccoli, cucumbers and other stuff which I bought later on. On the other hand, the Montour Trail is freaking great. The veg was delicious, btw.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
This is a former rail road right of way, and the Montour Railroad’s primary occupation once revolved around coal. You can read all about the company at this Wikipedia link, the Montour Trail at this Wiki page, and for a series of visits I’ve made to the various sections of the trail click here.
There are several ‘rail to trail’ locations all over Pittsburgh, which make for an ideal form of scuttling. You’re separated from traffic, mostly, and the trails are surrounded largely by woodlands. There’s critters and often flowing water, and every so often a Porta Potty is encountered if you were in the mood to have a tinkle. The surface of the trail is generally asphalt or crushed limestone at railroad grade (1 foot of elevation for every hundred feet horizontally), and you could theoretically follow this path from Pittsburgh all the way to Washington D.C. on a bike, or on foot. There’s also several designated camping sites located along the Montour, with the path proceeding through the gorgeous Laurel Highlands and into the Western Maryland Panhandle. Appalachia, amirite?
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Saying all that, I ain’t taking a 152 mile long walk just to end up in D.C., and I’m trying to visit somewhat more local sections of the trail, bit by bit. On this particular day, one was taking a short walk of less than 4 miles. 2 miles in, 2 miles out and back to the dedicated parking lot where I left the Mobile Oppression Platform. Cardio, yo.
Why do I call my car the ‘Mobile Oppression Platform’? Well, back in Queens, where I was the chair of Community Board 1’s transportation committee, one had to regularly endure the performative outrage and politcial ire of the bicycle people. If somebody got hit by a car, it was emblematic or whatever snake oil they were selling this week or that. One particular eidelon of the street safety crowd describes automobiles as – alternatively – ‘two ton death machines,’ or ‘mobile oppression platforms.’ She didn’t realize that Dr. Zoidberg from the TV cartoon Futurama had got there first. When Toyota insisted I give the car a name, Mobile Oppression Platform is what I chose. You can use M.O.P for shortness’ sake.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
All in all, a very pleasant experience was enjoyed by a humble narrator, although the path in this section wasn’t exactly rich in features you’d want to point a camera at. I was quite interested in this masonry bridge, however, due to its stoutness. The point of this walk was walking, exercising the internally lubricated parts of my legs, and first elevating and then sustaining my heart rate for an interval.
The constancy of my walking around thing is something I’m commanded to do by the team of physicians who help me maintain a median level of health. Running would work too, but I only run when something is chasing me. Also, running offers up a spate of other possible injuries you could incur during the act or over time. Overall regular practice of long distance walking is a fairly low impact form of exercise which offers a number of other benefits. I always bring the camera along to keep it interesting, and to push me into going new places.
Give me a choice, I’d be sitting at home in a La-Z-Boy chair, which was the very first thing I bought after moving here last year. That’s some chair, I tell’s ya…
– photo by Mitch Waxman
After about two miles I encountered an obstacle, pictured above, and that served up as good a moment as any to reverse course and head back to the M.O.P.
There is a moving waterbody found alongside this section of the Montour Trail, which is called Montour Run. It’s the water which that stout masonry bridge spans. I’m pretty sure it’s engineered, likely something the rail people created as a drainage system for their berm riding trackway. Don’t know, I’m putting 2+2 together and presuming.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Thankfully, I found an open sewer or two along the way, which poured their filth and degradation into it. Ahhh… What am I without sewage to talk about, after all? It was a fine concoction, whose miasma told me it was residential and maybe a couple of days old. I learned many things on Newtown Creek, including how to effectively smell from a fellow called ‘Ned the Nose.’
I made it back to the M.O.P. in fine fettle after walking a bit of the Montour Trail, and then drove over to the farm’s market building to fetch the requested vegetables and fruit. A few weeks ago, I bought peaches at that joint which were the size of frigging softballs, but that’s another story. This time around, the hero of the effort were these freakishly large tomatoes. I also bought a basketball sized Cabbage.
Back next week with something a bit 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 