From Out of the Fog Rose the Sun

 The fog was intermittent, at times none existent and at other times, the road could barley be seen. The sun was up but dimmed by the thick clouds hanging in the valleys. The weather prognosticators had called for a clear, sunny day, the fog was just some icing on the cake!

    Fog is such an interesting phenomenon. We are aware of what is there, yet it is hidden from our view. Our imagination comes into play, envisioning what we might be missing. Fog is a mystery, an unanswered question for our minds.

    Driving along the river, structures were dim outlines against a blank background. Railroad tracks faded away with no beginning or end, just a short piece was visible, the rest could only be imagined.

    Ann Marie, Jim and I were heading towards the sun, off to the east in search of … anything. Our initial destination was the small town of Bolivar, in Westmoreland County. Long ago there were a batch of brick plants here, they have since gone out of business and been torn down, but there are always remnants left behind. Perhaps if we were lucky, we might find some of them.

    Topping a hill, the Laurel Highlands could be seen in the distance. Their hillsides were covered with patches of fog, the details all blurred by the distance. High smokestacks of a power plant poked through the fog surrounding them, making them appear to be floating in the clouds. Bright sunshine topped trees near-by, brilliant fresh green leaves on the tops while the trunks still sat in the dim light of the morning dusk. Beautiful! Nature is an artist with no rival!

    We drove on narrow roads with trees forming a canopy over our heads. The roads twisted and turned as they followed the lay of the land. Straight roads are rare in Pennsylvania unless they have been bulldozed, leveled, widened and paved to create a speedy way between two points. They are quick but sadly, so unattractive. The old back roads follow the streams and hills, letting the landscape determine their route.

    The woods were filled with new May Apples, their flowers yet to bloom. Dog woods grew in places, adding bright splotches of color to the woods as we drove by. The temperatures rose and we doffed our jackets and soon windows were cracked to allow the fresh air into the car.

    In the small town of Bolivar, the fog was still hanging over the river. We stopped at one site and looked around awhile. Sadly what were once ruins was now a cleared patch of ground. A nice RR bridge crossed the Conemaugh River, with the fog it would have made a nice picture if a train came across it, but that was not to be. A couple trains passed us on tracks beside the bridge but none crossed it while we were there. One of them was an Amtrak train, we waved but couldn’t see if anyone noticed us.

    As we drove around the town, we talked with a couple of the residents. They told us that as far as they knew, all remnants of the brickyards were gone. Perhaps, I’ll have to return another time to look further.

    Continuing on the back roads, we kept the car pointing east.  Turning onto a smaller road we crossed a small stream, Richards Run, where we pulled over and got out to enjoy the scene. White Dogwoods sat on one side and small yellow flowers grew on the other. The sound of the stream as it tumbled over the rocks was refreshing and relaxing. Sunshine illuminated the water as it pooled under the rocks and in our minds… all was good with the world!

    A short distance down the road we came across a fox. It ran in front of us for a bit before dashing up the hillside and behind some rocks. We also ran across some deer, one of them nearly with our bumper. Swerving and braking, we managed to pass it with inches to spare. Along with the beauty of the state, there are also some dangers; you never know when they might appear.

    In New Alexandria we passed a huge coal fueled power station but, while it looked dramatic, didn’t interest us at all. We were heading towards older industry. 

    A few miles out of town, we visited the Laurel Hill Furnace. Built in 1845, it only produced iron for about 10-15 years. Once a place filled with smoke and noise and wooden buildings crowding around the furnace, now all that remain of this once thriving industry is the stack. A mile or two further back the road, in the game-lands is what remains of the Baldwin Furnace. We didn’t bother going there, been there, done that!

    Going south towards Ligonier, we stopped and visited the Valley, or Hill View Furnace. This furnace was built in 1850. Built out of field stone, it isn’t as “polished” as the Laurel Hill Furnace. Trees are growing on top of it; their roots are slowly breaking it down. There are often cows feeding on the grass surrounding the stack but today, it sat all alone in the field, under a beautiful blue sky.

    As is so often the case, there were a couple geocaches that we ran into along the way. One was situated between the two roads in front of Idlewild Amusement Park and the second one was behind the park near an old train station. Once in serious disrepair, it has been rejuvenated and is now the Ligonier Valley Railroad Museum. The gate was open but the building was closed, we snooped around a bit and then continued on.

    We drove through one of the nicest sections of route 30, where the Loyalhanna Creek splits the two directions of travel. High mountains are divided by the stream with cottages sitting near the water. The trees lining the road climb up out of sight. Even with the traffic going by I can’t imagine that this wouldn’t be a relaxing spot to sit by the water!

(Taken in 2022)

    We turned north and ended up in Blairsville where we stopped for lunch at Deans Diner. Deans first opened in the town of Blairsville in 1934. The diner, situated alongside rt.22 has been here since 1953.

    It was lunchtime and there was a steady flow of customers coming and going. We sat beside two men who were heading towards a camp near Mount Union. All through the diner, people were talking with each other while they enjoyed their food. I didn’t notice any phones being stared at while we were there. We talked with the men beside us as we ate and then they headed east to their camp and we headed west towards our homes.

    The fog was just a memory as we drove home under blue skies dotted with puffy white clouds. It was time to head home, there were chores waiting for us. What a great way to start the day!