Mud splatters
Tuesday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Well, I finally missed a day, yesterday, disappointing all those who expect regularly posted missives from your humble narrator to appear in their inboxes as normal, on a Monday. At any rate, there you are. Sorry, and ‘Oops.’
Pictured is an apartment complex in Pittsburgh’s Green Tree neighborhood. Don’t know much about it, other than marveling at its observed size and bulky brutalist architecture. There’s a few large apartment complexes in Green Tree, and I often wonder why. Most of the community is housed in one family suburban style homes, yet…
Recently, I learned that quite a few of those suburban style homes are built on top of a subterranean freight rail tunnel, and also where that tunnel emerges back onto the surface. It’s a bit of a hike, involves a bit of fence climbing and woods walking, activities which I’m not ready to chance yet.
Something to look forward to.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
A recent social engagement in Pittsburgh’s Strip District found me waiting for a cab afterwards, and standing under the 16th street David McCullough Bridge while sheltering from rain. McCullough, a noted historian and Pittsburgh native, wrote what I consider to be the best book on the building of the Brooklyn Bridge (1983’s ‘The Great Bridge: The Epic Story of the Building of the Brooklyn Bridge.’) McCullough narrated the audiobook of it as well, which I listen to periodically.
It seems like life is returning to normal, finally, or at least whatever ‘normal’ is for one such as myself. I’ve been walking as much as the weather and schedules allow, and following the instructions from the team of doctors who cared for me during all of this busted ankle related drama. Continuing the stretching exercises from ‘PT’ and all that.
See… I mentioned the ankle. Promise that I’ll stop talking about that situation soon. Should be nothing more than just another war story within a few months.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Circumstance recently found me in one of the lesser populated sections of Mount Washington’s Grandview Avenue, where this view awaited. I’m planning on heading to this location again with the full kit, setting up the tripod and getting busy. This is pretty far from the overlooks and inclines, this particular spot, and a less common point of view.
Back tomorrow with something different, at this – your Newtown Pentacle.
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316,800 inch long scuttle, part 5
Friday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The last leg of the longest walk I’ve been able to execute, and really the first one which I’ve truly enjoyed without pain or discomfort (ok, there was a bit of swelling), since breaking my ankle last fall.
I was walking on one of the rail trails, chosen for its flat character, and along the Monongahela River shoreline after having crossed the West End Bridge. Pictured above is the underside of the Fort Pitt bridge with downtown Pittsburgh in the background.
Fort Pitt is sort of the ‘master cylinder’ for traffic flow here in Pittsburgh. On one side it leads to a tunnel which feeds traffic to the south onto an interstate roadway (I-376), whereas in the other direction it feeds traffic either to downtown, another high speed interstate roadway heading eastbound, or onto the Fort Duquesne Bridge which offers connections to the west and north. Approaching this bridge at the high volume times of day is a major mistake which drivers should avoid.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The rail trail proceeds through the Station Square area, and it follows the coast of the Monongahela River and the CSX Subdivision Tracks which parallel it. Onward, soldier, onward. I opted to continue on towards that brewery I like, which was maybe a mile or so beyond the position where the shot above was captured.
Wasn’t planning on making a ‘night’ of it, rather I was desperate to use the bathroom and a pint of beer or two would definitely reignite my flagging energy levels. It’s been a long long time since I walked five miles, and the atrophy suffered in the upper legs due to the wheelchair interval is something I’m assiduously working on reversing.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Along the way, a somewhat unoccluded view of the ‘colors’ house I showed y’all at the start of March appeared, and I gathered a shot of it for the archives. So quirky.
The pavement gets a bit difficult in this area, as it’s all busted up from trucks parking on the sidewalk, and the underlying Appalachian soil beneath the road is absolutely legendary at producing potholes. Had to be a bit cautious here. Remind myself that I’m still no where near ‘100%.’
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Normally, I’d be walking along that fenceline dividing the CSX tracks from the trail, but in that direction the trail is blocked by a gigantic pile of railroad ballast stones. It’s only about four feet high, and fairly easy to surmount – if you’re not concerned about the recovery of your shattered ankle. Discretion being the better part of valor, I opted to go with the broken sidewalks and pothole scarred street path instead.
Missed a couple of trains, but there we are.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
While scuttling through, a T light rail unit exited the Golden Triangle and crossed over the Monongahela River via the Panhandle Bridge, and it began the climb up Mount Washington via Arlington Avenue.
Finally, I reached the Sly Fox Brewery. After ‘dewhizzulating,’ which is how I colloquially refer to the act of urination, I ordered a lovely O’Reilly’s stout and decided to sit inside at the bar for a while. Met a nice bloke named Jimmy, who was a retired pilot, that regaled me with tales of his travels. Nice guy.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
It was time to summon a rideshare car to carry me home, and the Lyft service was engaged in that pursuit. Whew.
Five miles is 316,800 inches, in case you’ve been wondering all week.
Back next week with something different.
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316,800 inch long scuttle, part 4
Thursday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Continuing with the longest walk I’ve been able to perpetrate since breaking my left ankle and dislocating my foot back in September…
After debarking the West End Bridge and its PTSD inducing staircase, the path followed the waterfront of the three rivers back to the southern shoreline of just the Monongahela River. There’s an arterial street which runs along this path, called Carson Street. In this area, it’s called West Carson, and offers connections to several bridges and a tunnel or three. From what I understand, everything between Carson and the water used to be part of a giant rail yard in the glory days of Steel.
I was amused that they closed the sidewalk and set up protection for the barrier. No accommodation whatsoever for pedestrians. To be fair, the protected barrier was sitting on top of a manhole cover, so the construction people were probably trying to vouchsafe the utility shaft.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
About 3/4 of a mile’s worth of scuttling found me on a waterfont trail that more or less parallels the CSX Pittsburgh Subdivision tracks and which also leads towards that Beer Brewery I haunt. That’s one of the inclines, which I colloquially refer to as ‘the red one,’ but which is properly called ‘The Duquesne Incline.’
The ankle was holding up pretty good. I seem to have put the whole ‘walking like the Batman villain Penguin’ behind me. I was definitely ‘feeling’ the exercise, but it wasn’t painful at all. That’s also a first.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
There were a few trains transiting by on the CSX tracks, which provided me with moments of joy. Well… joy is too strong a word, as it would imply that I somehow have started experiencing the sort of emotional highs and lows which ‘normal’ people do. I really don’t get all that.
My normal existential and emotional state is best described as being a cold gray in color, with the buzzing sound of old florescent bulbs omnipresent, and punctuated by brief flashes of annoying drama and bold colors. I’m all ‘effed up.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
I was very pleased with myself, regarding the shot above. As I was scuttling along, I kept looking over my shoulder to see if anything might be coming my way and saw this train being held in place at a signal all the way back at West End Bridge. That’s the aforementioned bridge in the background, btw.
These are amongst the last ones from this set of locations you’re going to see for a while, regrading the CSX tracks hereabouts. Now that I’m on my feet again, even with the limitations, it’s time to get out and explore again.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
A few people (railfans) have told me that it’s frustrating to them that my interest in trains mainly focuses on the locomotive at the front of the unit. An effort to satisfy these traction enthusiasts will be made.
Look, the train was hauling drywall.
Paint drying, for me. The ‘drama’ shot is in the engine, not the caboose.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
A series of tanker cars followed the drywall. According to what’s indicated on the tanks, they were carrying Butadiene. Others were hauling Isopentane. There you go, railfans.
Back tomorrow with the last shots from this scuttle at this – your Newtown Pentacle.
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316,800 inch long scuttle, part 3
Wednesday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Continuing with captures from a recent walk around Pittsburgh, as your humble narrator exercises himself back to normal circumstance, post broken ankle. As previously described: one was crossing the Ohio River on the West End Bridge, as folks do.
Along the way, there were lots and lots of interesting things to point the camera at, and amongst them was the Towboat King Conan towing four barges of minerals in a westerly direction after leaving the Monongahela River. The region to the east along that river is locally referred to as ‘The Mon Valley.’ That zone still hosts a fantastic number of industrial facilities, but it’s a shadow of what once was.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Call sign WDN4839 is how King Conan would ID itself on the radio, and I’ll refer you to this page at marinetraffic.com for more details on the boat. After a series of floods in early 20th century which wrecked Western Pennsylvania and seriously curtailed the output of the steel industry, the Army Corps of Engineers installed several lock and dam installations along the three rivers to control the water. A fairly major lock and dam in this system is the nearby Emsworth Lock and Dam. King Conan was heading that way, and here’s a page from the USACE describing the facility and its costs.
Really, I’ve been working hard to remain ignorant here, but it just keeps on seeping in. Just last week I met somebody who works at the big sewer plant near Sewickley and… uhnnnn…
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Looking back towards Pittsburgh’s north shore while scuttling along one of the West End Bridge’s pedestrian paths, that’s what’s depicted above. One of the severe difficulties you’ll encounter while driving in Pittsburgh is that you need to position yourself before the crossing to be in the lane for your exit. It’s quite an endeavor to switch lanes on the other side, and Pittsburgh drivers are fairly merciless. There’s also the whole ‘vernacular’ thing, wherein the fact that this is a fairly insular community has created a culture wherein the presumption is that everybody has the same knowledge base as everyone else. I mean, you want to go to California Avenue, you get in the left hand lane when you board that bridge – everybody knows that. Vernacular.
The example I always use to describe the Yinzer POV is somebody saying that ‘I’ll see you where Smith’s used to be, after lunch.’
My answer would be, as a foreigner from NYC: bro, I don’t know what Smith’s was or where where it used to be and I have no ‘effin idea what time you eat lunch. Give me an address or an intersection and name a time. Vernacular. They speak in vernacular here.
There’s also the not exactly legal but commonly offered ‘Pittsburgh left’ wherein the lead car on the opposite side of an intersection will flash their brights at you to allow you to make a left turn at the start of a light cycle. This practice works surprisingly well at keeping traffic moving on the narrow and often steep streets hereabouts, as a note.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Speaking of traffic, the south end of the West End Bridge overlooks the CSX Pittsburgh Subdivision tracks heading towards Ohio, and just as I arrived at one of several ‘Bernie Holes’ in the fencing a train appeared rounding the bend. The term ‘Bernie Holes’ refers to my old pal Bernard Ente from Newtown Creek, who passed away in 2011. You can still find the holes he cut into fences in the dead of night, just big enough to fit a camera lens through, all around the creek, Sunnyside Yards, and various LIRR bridges in Maspeth and beyond.
I had time to get ready and noodle with the camera’s settings and figure out a composition.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Yeah, I like this one. Subject is sharp, composition good, and the background environmental detail provides a sense of place. Yay for me.
A problem I’m starting to encounter in my plotting and planning involves ambition, and the desire to forget about the ankle and fully immerse myself back into the ‘mishegoss.’ Just last night, I was sitting there in front of the iPad with. Google maps open considering a scuttle on a natural dirt and rock path down the face of Mount Washington, and on a trail which I haven’t explored yet. Given that this would have been a difficult but productive pathway to move through – prior to busting my ankle – it’s folly to even consider it at this point in time.
Instead, there’s an industrial zone on the north side of the triangle – which is largely flat – that’s ’next.’
– photo by Mitch Waxman
At the end of the West End Bridge on the southern shore of the Monongahela River, you encounter a set of steps. Brr.
Given the PTSD I’m experiencing regarding stairs, one intentionally pointed his toes in this direction in the name of getting past all that.
I actually froze for a few minutes at the top landing, but managed to force myself to start walking downwards. The mental problems forced me to move in a stiff and somewhat robotic fashion, as I ‘protected the ankle,’ and in doing so actually interfered with a smooth passage and caused a terrifying stumble or two along the way down. This PTSD is going to be inhabiting me for a bit, I think, but exposure to terror is generally what makes fear go away.
Back tomorrow with more, at your Newtown Pentacle.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
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316,800 inch long scuttle, part 2
Tuesday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
As described yesterday, your humble narrator was out for a walk and finally got up to and past the five mile limitation which has plagued similar efforts, in this ongoing recovery period after having broken my ankle last September. Also mentioned, a bit of psychological trauma got inserted into me during the injury as well, which has caused this wandering mendicant to become a bit phobic about staircases.
Given that I’m partial to the old philosophical sentiment about ‘falling off a horse and getting right back into the saddle’ I’m going to be exposing myself to a bunch of scary stairs this summer while getting my legs back into shape, thusly.
That’s the West End Bridge over the Ohio River up there, and its stairs are doozies but certainly not the worst Pittsburgh has to offer. I’m working my way up to those, and they’re terrifying.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
I did get distracted along the way to the bridge, but darn it these guys were doing something interesting. There’s some sort of development project kicking into gear around this area, and there’s all sorts of work going on to get the area ready for whosover’s dreams of avarice will be playing out.
This effort involved the replacement of a Utility Pole by a crew of workers with a lot of specialized equipment. I’m also visually intrigued by this sort of thing, and tried to get a few shots of the action while zoomed all the way in and from a distance.
Funnily enough, most people don’t like strangers walking up to and interrupting them while they’re at work, and especially not those strangers who start taking random pictures of what they’re doing while at work. I’m fully aware of how uncomfortable that is, and try to remain geographically aloof. That’s what a long range zoom lens is for.
I wasn’t hiding behind a mail box or anything, though.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
It was an act of will to not clutch at the steel bannister on the West End Bridge with every bit of strength in my arm. This new phobia of mine, it’s going to take a while to be drowned out by something else I’m more scared of. Might as well enjoy it while I can, until it callouses over.
Some group in the local non profit industrial complex is floating a project which promises to redesign these approaches to the bridge’s pedestrian and bike lanes and bring them into compliance with ADA standards as well as polishing them up esthetically.
As mentioned, the powers that be have offered a development scheme for this section of the ‘North Side,’ click here for a lookie loo.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Having surmounted the stairs, in a cavalcade of fear and terror, one leaned into things and pushed forward. This bridge is in pretty rough condition, I have to mention. You can’t see it while driving over the thing, but while walking West End Bridge, the need for maintenance and probable major repairs is pretty apparent. Rust, broken concrete, all the tell tales are there.
Your humble narrator was actually somewhat happy during this walk, as I didn’t have to actively focus quite as much on the act of walking as I’ve had to in recent excursions. One of the many problems encountered post injury involved ‘proprioception,’ which involves the somewhat unconscious knowledge of where your limbs are spatially. Losing touch with that hidden sense of kinesthetic parameters, it was difficult to confidently walk as I was unaware of my foot’s relationship and relative positioning to the ground.
The trouble I’m having with angled surfaces is related to this dealie, but in time… everything will be great, all the time. I keep telling myself that.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
It seems that the governmental powers are scratching out a new road for themselves on Mount Washington. I’m of the opinion that it’s going to just be for the ‘official’ vehicles to use, but you need to be able to,move emergency vehicles quickly, after all, and the roads leading to and from the summit are often choked with what passes for heavy traffic here in Pittsburgh.
This new road, observably, seems to parallel the PJ McArdle roadway across the face of Mount Washington.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
As mentioned in the past, I’ve caught some critique on local Pittsburgh social media groups for referring to what you see above as ‘mineral barges’ when posting photos. A lot of this is politically motivated, IMHO, with some red hat wearer thinking he’s ‘owning the libs’ by screaming in all caps that it’s coal, why can’t you just call it coal?
As is often restated, unless I know for a fact what something actually is, a category level is jumped. It looks like there’s gravel or ballast stone in those barges, but that’s a guess based on purely visual observation. All I can say for sure is that a Towboat with four barges worth of minerals was photographed while navigating from the Monongahela River to the Ohio River in the Port of Pittsburgh’s Pool.
Back tomorrow with more.
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The Newtown Pentacle 