Posts Tagged ‘Pittsburgh’
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.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
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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.
“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.
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
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.
316,800 inch long scuttle, part 1
Monday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
One has finally managed to break the pernicious five mile walking threshold which has been actively blocking my activity since September of last year, due to the broken left ankle and dislocated foot incident. I know that five miles – or 316,800 inches – sounds like no big deal, and normally I’d be the first one to say so, but it’s taken me months of physical therapy and self guided exercise to get here.
So, huzzah.
The endeavor began when I walked the hill which I live at the bottom of on up to the T light Rail station, here in Pittsburgh’s Boro of Dormont. I did take a picture of the train I actually rode in on, but the shot above is of a train set heading in the other direction made for a better opening shot.
Lighting, yo, lighting.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The T was ridden to its terminal stop, which is directly across the street from the actual center of the Pittsburgh universe – Acrisure (Heinz) stadium. On this walk, I was still consciously avoiding uneven or angled paths, as such terrain still gives me a bit of trouble. Instead, I decided to try and work a few flights of stairs into the equation to spice things up.
As I’ve mentioned, a bit of PTSD seems to be floating around in the old Gulliver these days, which is centered around stairs.
Given that the ankle shattering occurred while I was walking down a set of steps it’s fairly understandable, but when confronted with a set of steps these days I freeze up a little bit and get overly cautious. This set of psychological reactions actually endanger me while negotiating a set of stairs, which causes me to move stiffly, in an almost robotic manner, and sets my nervous side on fire.
I’ll get past this because I have to. My whole life has been ‘have to.’
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Luckily, the T station has escalators, which don’t fill me with dread despite being stairs and all the horror stories my pal Hank the Elevator Guy has told me about these devices. Industrial meat grinders use the same design, he opines.
I exited the station and headed north west. I’ve been carrying a little compass with me these days, and like to check in on the cardinal directions periodically to maintain my bearings. Pittsburgh is still very much a foreign place to me, even after a couple of years here.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Passing by an abandoned building along the way, one was amused by the ‘SPQR’ graffiti. If you don’t know what that means, you should read more, specifically the classics of the pre modern era. The decline of the Roman Republic is very much a to[ic you should be familiar with these days.
Edward Gibbon… read Gibbon. Marius and Sulla are next, for us, and that’s where it gets bloody. Caesar is absolutely coming, but is still a few decades away. It will be very exciting for people to watch on tv, all this. They will feel things… indignation, fear, anger, pride… all of the seven deadlies. They will microwave burritos and watch.
Me, I’m just walking here.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The major crossing over water for the day was Pittsburgh’s West End Bridge. It crosses the Ohio River, roughly at the waterway’s point of navigable origin where the admixture of the Allegheny and Monongahela Rivers occurs. It’s yellow.
The specific yellow is a color called ‘Aztec Gold,’ which – if memory serves – is manufactured by Pittsburghs own ‘PPG’ or Pittsburgh Plate Glass.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The ankle was behaving itself. I felt no clicking or the sensation of cords being pulled in my heel or on the top of the foot. I was consciously altering my pace and ‘leaning in’ while walking. A couple of times my brain sent orders down the spine for the legs to move as they normally would have prior to all this trouble. I moved quickly!
Couldn’t sustain it for more than a couple of city blocks at a time, but your humble narrator managed to scuttle along a great deal faster and more surely than at anytime in the last six months.
Top of the world, ma, top of the world.
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.
Rolling with the Dormont Camera Club
Friday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Your humble narrator normally eschews company whilst behind the camera, as I’m not a terribly big fan of humanity – particularly these days. I enjoy the quiet and meditative nature of solo photography, and always have. Saying that, there’s a quite active Facebook group serving the Boro of Dormont, and somebody posted an invitation on said message board that they were initiating the creation of a ‘camera club’ for the town.
I laughed about going, but then decided ‘what the hell, why not.’ It was about a 20 minute walk from HQ to the meetup spot at Dormont Park, a scuttle which would involve walking up and then down about three steep hills. Stretch and strengthen, that’s the mantra.
Our Lady of the Pentacle and Moe the Dog were probably just happy to see me leaving the house and walking about the neighborhood again. I’m a lot surlier than I was before the ankle deal.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Personally, I would have chosen a different location, as parks are generally a bit too ‘safe’ to capture the sort of things I normally find myself pointing a camera at, but it wasn’t my show.
The leader of the group laid out a challenge for the day, which was ‘early spring.’ He mentioned that he was going to be shooting for macro shots of new leaves and such. There were about ten people, all friendly and nice. I made an effort to keep my mouth shut for most of the thing, as it wasn’t my ‘show.’ I’ve done plenty of ‘talking’ at shows, after all.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The ‘spring’ thing, for me, took the form of noticing all of the park equipment that was still locked up in its winter hermitage.
A few kids were throwing balls around on the baseball field, a couple of people were walking cute and fat dogs. We followed a path around the park, and your humble narrator was being quite mindful of his ankle.
The walk here was surprisingly difficult, due to all of the heavily angled pavement paths. I’m getting better, a lot better, on level ground. Angled foot steps on slopes are a different story. Time spent on exercise will fix this.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
This was a weekend day, and I also had a social engagement to attend a bit later in the afternoon. When the group headed downhill to the lowest elevation of the park, I broke off and started making my way to meeting up with Our Lady and couple of friends.
Last thing I needed to do was add another steep hill into my portfolio of pain at this point. Actually, pain is a bit of an overstatement, rather I’m feeling a pervasive soreness in the ankle and calf. Couple that with the muscular atrophy in the upper thighs…
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The long scuttle I’ll be talking about next week saw me breaking a few limitations, and made the case that things are progressing in the right direction. This part of my story seems to be finally coming to an end.
I bid our host adieu, and requested to be on his mailing list for future endeavors. Saying that, ain’t all that much that you’ll find that’s worth shooting in a park.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
On my way to the social engagement, I spotted a T light rail unit leaving the local station. Man, this is so much more my deal.
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.
The Newtown Pentacle 