Tripling down
Tuesday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Just a short post today, carrying a trio of somewhat random photos captured during my various and quite ultramundane travels through the Pittsburgh metro area.
The one above depicts a street level view of the Wheeling & Lake Erie RR outfit’s ‘Rook Yard’ at the border of Carnegie and Green Tree. It was a Sunday, and nothing profound was happening there. Cracked out a shot as I had made a special trip to spy upon them.
The photos in today’s post were largely gathered while operating the Mobile Oppression Platform, a Toyota.
Needless to say, but the car’s transmission was in park mode as the shutter was depressed – before anyone asks or shouts ‘j’accuse.’
– photo by Mitch Waxman
This one is from the evening of Halloween, and was captured in Dormont, where Newtown Pentacle HQ is located, while on foot. It didn’t rain, believe it or not, despite the warnings of the meteorological crew.
Your humble narrator has been feeling pent up, boxed in, and the old wanderlust has recently reignited. Physical limitations due to the ankle dealie have been lessening, and it’s time to bust out of my rusty cage and roam again.
As far as the limitations go… they just set parameters for me to work within at this point, and I’ve also grown quite tired of such matters getting in my way. The ‘will to power’ urge grows within, like a cancer.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Another ‘behind the wheel’ shot, this time from one of Dormont’s neighboring communities, in Mount Oliver. Something about that converted garage apartment just grabbed me. Very, very, Greg Brady, but with a dystopian air which satisfied me.
Back tomorrow with something a bit more substantial.
“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.
Remains of a scuttle
Monday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
After traipsing all over Pittsburgh during a longish scuttle, your humble narrator found himself heading into more familiar territory along the Monongahela River. Another not so friendly to pedestrians route was chosen, this one paralleling a series of high speed roads which operate in a trench. Pictured above, in the distance, is a traffic machine called the ‘Fort Pitt Bridge.’
Every GPS navigation package you can think of directs all the traffic in Pittsburgh going to and from the South Hills region onto the Fort Pitt Bridge and tunnel. There are two other perfectly acceptable highway paths you can take out of the central section of Pittsburgh towards the South Hills, which deposit you in more or less the same area on the other side of Mount Washington, I’d mention. Saying that, all of the ‘maps’ apps just love sending traffic to that very congested bridge and tunnel.
The Fort Pitt bridge offers what I consider to be one of the worst traffic interchanges in the entire country. It’s an ‘X,’ and the thousands of cars and trucks an hour which cross it and enter that tunnel having to negotiate a diagonal merge in a surprisingly short interval.
As I’ve intoned earlier, the driving culture of Pittsburgh is absolute brutality, so this ain’t pretty.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Moving easterly, the mirror face of the PPG Plaza building caught my eye as it threw reflection of the burning thermonuclear eye of God itself around. Disdain for the memory of architect Philip Johnson blossomed in my mind.
The plan for the rest of the day involved heading over to familiar territory at the Sly Fox Brewery where I’d hopefully get to see a train go by.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The Smithfield Street Bridge is a wonderful touchstone. The original bridge here was designed by John Roebling, and when it needed an upgrade they hired Gustav Lindenthal to do it. The bridge’s piers are original to the Roebling version, and the tension spring upper steel is Lindenthal’s.
Roebling, of course, designed and built the Brooklyn Bridge. Lindenthal is the mastermind behind the Queensboro Bridge. I quickened my stride.
I was heading for the brewery, after all, and was fairly thirsty by this point. I also needed to make ‘wee-wee.’
– photo by Mitch Waxman
A pint of lager in hand, and after a trip to the loo, one settled in and waited for the signal chimes to start ringing at Sly Fox Brewery. It took maybe twenty minutes of waiting before CSX #4749 exploded into view.
HEY NOW!
It’s a 2003 vintage ‘EMD SD70MAC.’ A 16 cylinder engine in the locomotive produces some 4,000 HP of thrust, and it is said to offer a top speed of 70 mph.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
It had been a nice, long walk. Lots of ups and downs, long distances, and mostly flat. What was desired was attained, which was to do some shooting while subjecting my gamey ankle to a longish walk.
As you’re reading this, remember that exactly one year ago today I was still confined to a wheelchair, and experiencing ghastly amounts of pain. The injury was more than just orthopedic, as lots of soft tissue damage had occurred too. Suffice to say that I learned about a new one during this experience – pressure blisters. Felt like a burn, but under the cast.
I just can’t stop remembering that right about now. Trauma, yo.
Adding in that I was all doped up on opioid pain killers, this situation wasn’t at all pretty. All I could do, besides watching a Turk soap opera about the Ottomans, was dream about recovery, and getting back to doing…
…This…
– photo by Mitch Waxman
As the saying goes: Life is what happens to you while you’re making other plans, right?
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.
To the confluence, onwards
Friday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Continuing with description of a fairly wide ranging scuttle around Pittsburgh: your humble narrator could be observed shambling along a waterfront trail, one which hugs the southern shoreline of the Allegheny River, in the so called ‘Golden Triangle’ section of the city.
This view looks in a westerly direction towards the confluence of the Monongahela and Allegheny Rivers, where the headwaters of the Ohio River form. The bridge closest to the lens is the Fort Duquesne Bridge, and the one in the distance is the West End Bridge.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The staccato of a diesel engine echoed upriver, and I decided this would be an excellent spot for a quick ‘sit down.’ It had been a few hours since I was at rest, and since I wanted to get a few shots of whatever was coming down the river, it was an opportunity to just sit down and wait. It was nice to take my camera bag off of my back.
Just the other day, at a Doctor’s appointment, occasion found the Doc and I weighing the camera bag. Just under thirty pounds of stuff on my back, as it turns out.
The heaviest items in there, beyond the camera and zoom lens, are a series of prime lenses (which allow me to be ready for most things, including entering interior spaces with low light or night shots), there’s a tripod and other camera mounts, and a bunch of gear which I don’t necessarily ‘need’ but like having with me. I’ve got my rail scanner radio in there, and I actually carry a few comfort items like bandaids with me, just in case. There’s also small tools in there which I might need for the camera, or other gear, while out in the field – hex wrenches and the like. Sometimes, there’s an umbrella too.
The Doc was interested in what my physical exercise modality entailed, and he wanted to gauge physical capabilities, based on my reporting to him of scuttling distance and time. Luckily, I think this was my last ‘check up’ of 2025. At least, I’m hoping it is.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The hull of this vessel includes a logo for an entity called ‘Alcosan,’ and a line of text that reads ‘ATB READSHAW,’ with its call sign being ‘WDJ4530.’
Alcosan is the ‘Allegheny County Sanitary Authority.’ Sewer and water agency, basically. Apparently, the boat is named for a former elected official who is now a board member of the Alcosan outfit.
The barge it was towing had a shed/structure and other equipment on it. Seemed pretty banal, but I take what I can get when behind the lens.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
I waited around for about 15-20 minutes as the underway tug headed towards the Fort Duquesne Bridge. I shot way too many exposures of the thing, but to fair, my hunt for rail earlier in the day had come up empty and I was fairly psyched just to have a subject to point the camera at.
Sometimes you get lucky and everything falls into place, other times it’s mile after mile of banality.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
‘That’s a cool view of the Fort Duquesne Bridge’ thought your humble narrator, and resolve to come back and capture this scene in low light hours blossomed within. I’m feeling the urge for night time shooting again.
Problem is that my old NYC night owl tendencies have fallen away, and it’s fairly common for me to be awake and drinking coffee by six in the morning. Accordingly, I’ve been going to bed quite early for a while now. As has often been mentioned, where I now live is dark and quiet at night.
Really no good reason, these days, for me to be awake at two or three in the morning. This ain’t Astoria.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
This contraption was encountered next.
It required a bit of detective work to figure out what this gizmo does, but this photo, and this one too, provided the key to unlocking the mystery. Turns out this is a ‘counter’ of some kind which manufactures statistical data as to how many of the humans pass by it on the waterfont trail. ‘Eco Counter’ is imprinted on an electronics box, and that’s the name of a Canadian company whose offerings operate in this space and provide governmental entities with analytics. Neat.
Back next week with more – 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.
Atavist candy and the Allegheny River
Thursday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
On Pittsburgh’s north side, nearby the stadium where the Steelers live and play, a former factory building can be observed. The 1928 vintage structure has obviously been renovated in modernity, with its snazzy windows and sharply pointed brick walls.
It’s called the D.L Clark Building and this structure used to be a candy factory. Over at historicpittsburgh.org, they’ve got old timey shots of the place from ‘back in the day.’
Recent scuttling brought this building onto my radar, and I’m glad of that.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
It’s peculiar, to me, that a shroud of relative obscurity greets the curious narrator, as to the specifics of this building and its renovation, which real estate representatives describe as ‘a landmark.’
This shroud, I think, is the shadow result of the sort of SEO marketing efforts that real estate people engage in. Page of search results after page of search results were unified in congratulating me on my interest in renting commercial space in the building. The listings describe cavernous and desirable spaces within. Apparently, one of Pittsburgh’s news outlets is also based herein. The SEO marketing crowds out actual search results.
As far as what Google, in modernity, has become – I think Huey Lewis said it best. Shame that, Google was a great tool once.
Bah!
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The excellent historicpittsburgh.org site offers this ‘D. L. Clark Company Papers and Photographs’ page, which discusses the Clark Company and its long history in some detail.
Manufacturers of the iconic Clark Bar, the D. L. Clark Company was. Said ‘Clark Bar’ was a sweet treat that was commonly found floating around in the ruck sacks of American Soldiers during the two world wars.
I was always a Milky Way or Three Musketeers guy, with a strong secondary preference for Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. Also, Lemonheads, mmmm. Of course, I was a kid in the 1970’s and early 80’s.
Forward, ever forward, and it was time to push on.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Your humble narrator is absolutely captivated by the ramps leading to and from the Fort Duquesne Bridge in this section of Pittsburgh. It’s not a great pedestrian space, I should mention, until you’re squarely in the shadows of these things. The entire area hereabouts is all about the needs of the automobile, despite there being a light rail station and lots of bus service nearby. This is roughly the mid point between the two big stadiums – Acrisure/Steelers and PNC Park/Pirates.
There’s a lot of new construction in this zone, and a strip of high volume bar/restaurants, of the sort which the TV show ‘Bar Rescue’ extols as being ‘profit machines’ which enjoy surge business on game days.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
One reached the shoreline of the Allegheny River, and crossed the waterbody on the Sixth Street/Roberto Clemente bridge. One was hoping for some maritime activity, but that wasn’t happening (yet).
I was as happy as possible, for one such as myself. The filthy black raincoat was flapping about in the wind, and the light was good.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
That’s when this set of stairs leading off of the bridge and down to one of the riverfront trails manifested itself. I’ve walked down these stairs dozens of times, it should be mentioned, but for some reason… the PTSD regarding the bum ankle manifested.
Couldn’t stop myself from ‘death gripping’ the bannister. Managed to force myself down them to the trail below, but it wasn’t pretty and I was literally clinging to the bannisters on that first turn down there. It’s getting better, but is obviously still present, this sensation.
Back tomorrow with more.
“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.
Merchant Street Bridge
Wednesday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Allow me to start this post by saying that the locally grown automobile and truck drivers of Pittsburgh just suck at operating their vehicles.
They don’t seem to know what the brake pedal does, drive as if they have their heads wrapped up in gauze, and the Yinzers seem to believe that there’s only one direction their car can go – forward and at top speed. They seem to refuse to fully turn the steering wheel when required. The concept of ‘vehicular following distance’ is foreign. Collision is common.
Road rage is at epidemic levels out here. I ascribe to NYC’s version of driving, which states that taking risks and driving aggressively should be somehow connected to a victory state. If you are doing something not so sane behind the wheel, there has to be a payoff for the effort and risk. Not so with the Yinzers. About thirty people a year die in Pittsburgh because they accidentally drive off of cliffs.
After being thwarted by a lack of rail traffic at a nearby set of Norfolk Southern tracks, your humble narrator decided that he’d been standing still too long and got back to the business of the day, which was scuttling and exercising while waving the camera about.
I soon was shambling towards the Merchant Street Bridge, the filthy black raincoat flapping in the breeze.
A convenient bit of historical signage was noticed along the way, which relates the long story and circumstance of the span, which ended up being focused on for today’s missive.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
It’s a pretty minor rail bridge, this, but what caught my eye was the enormous steel barrier vouchsafing it from vehicular collision.
Remember, Pittsburgh drivers just blow.
At least a third of them are texting while driving at any given time, many while on the highways and moving at speed. The interiors of their cars are decorated like a teenager’s bedroom. They arrange toys on their dashboards. This isn’t just in cars, either, it’s the heavy trucks too.
One time, I drove past a guy who was eating a Hoagie sandwich with his left arm while holding a beverage container with his right, concurrently he was watching a TV show on his phone – which was balanced on the car’s steering wheel. He was operating the steering wheel with his right elbow. On a bridge, and while heading into a tunnel.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Of course, I had to focus in on the gouges and scrapes which that height barrier – painted bright and reflective yellow gold – was sporting. There’s an 11 foot height restriction for the bridge, which is indicated on both sides by similarly reflective highway signs.
Signs would work, were drivers paying attention while driving. They’re not, as you can see.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
On the other side of the Merchant Street Bridge, looking back at my path. Notice that busted signage…
Just last week, I saw some dude in a pickup enter a highway at 70 mph and then accelerate into heavy highway traffic, shooting out from an on-ramp. He perpetrated a diagonal merge through fairly dense traffic – at speed – to the passing lane on the left, and then executed a 90 mph diagonal path back across the three lanes to get to the next exit. He tried to negotiate a 30 mph off ramp curve at about 70. Dude ended up in the grass but didn’t roll over. Came pretty close, to my eye.
I think this bloke is a likely candidate to join that elite group of thirty who drive off cliffs to their death every year. What’s the point of the risk? It’s one exit. What did you achieve?
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Even the height restriction sign isn’t safe. Jeez Louise.
I’ve been lucky enough to interact with people who are experts in many of the public facing specialities – sewer, transit, maritime, all that, over the years.
One of them designed and engineered highways and their ramps for New York State. The knowledge imparted to me from this person involved the actual science of high speed roads, as in why the roadway is slanted and where, or the different kinds of pavement you’d want to deploy depending on intended use and speed restrictions. I learned that the posted speed limit is usually set well below but within reach of the upper 15-20 mph operational speed capacity of the roadway itself.
If you’re doing 70 on a 55 mph highway, it’s risky from a physics POV as you’re operating in the upper percentile of the roadway’s design use. You can probably get away with 5-10 over the limit, and not risk rolling your vehicle or shooting over a cliff… but… why take that chance at all?
Slow down, jagoff.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The Merchant Street Bridge has an off shoot trestle, which is a former rail connection to a factory building, one which has incontrovertibly survived decades of urban renewal projects that have played out in this part of Pittsburgh which have demolished nearly everything else in sight. We’ll explore that tale a bit tomorrow.
Back tomorrow, with some candy.
“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 