Going Upriver

 We had originally thought that we would spend Sunday afternoon taking a walk in the Strip District. The city was having an “open streets” event, allowing pedestrians and bikers access to the roads without any worry of cars or trucks. We were thinking about walking down to one of our favorite coffee shops and then sitting for awhile watching the people go by.

    The temperatures were getting close to 90 and the humidity seemed even higher than that. Walking in the heat, on the road and then sitting in the sunshine didn’t sound as good as it had the night before. Instead we opted for a car ride. Where? We’d find out when we got there I guess.

    We first ended up in Warrendale at a coffee shop we’ve visited before. Sitting with young families as they ate their Sunday brunches, we discussed where we’d head next. For some reason sunflowers popped into our minds. A farm near Freeport became our next destination.  How hot could that possibly be?

    Of course, we took the back roads. For a while we were on the Orange Belt and then the Red Belt, we followed rt.910 for a bit and eventually ended up above the town of Freeport, right near Harrison Hills Park. Coming down off the hill we encountered a train and slipped onto a back road in the town which led us to the banks of the Allegheny River.

    We pulled over and watched the train cross the river, moving over into the Kiski Junction.

    My father and brother used to have an HO train layout. One of the locations on it was a reproduction of the Kiski Junction. It is here that a railroad on the far side of the river crosses the line that came over from Freeport. The other line passes over the Kiskiminetas River, just before the river joins the Allegheny. This bridge used to be part of the Baker Trail but was closed due to safety reasons. It has just recently been reopened to allow bikers and hikers on the Armstrong Trail to cross the river.

    The last time my brother Ralph was in town, he and I crossed the RR bridge from Freeport and searched for any signs of railroad buildings at the junction. That day will always be a special memory for me!

We dove a bit further, coming to Lock and Dam #5, a short bit above where the Kiski River joins the Allegheny. The town of Schenley which sits across the river, used to have a whiskey distillery where they made “Medicinal Whiskey” during prohibition. The distillery was shut down in 1983. The dam crossing the river provides a wide waterfall, looking both cool and inviting. There were lots of boats on the water, both above and below the dam.

    We stopped at the farm to visit the sunflower fields but a downpour started just as we were pulling into the lot. After waiting a bit, we decided to continue on. Of course, the rain tapered off as we drove away; the roads were covered with mists as the water evaporated off of the hot pavement.

    We headed north-east following Ford City Road which ended up bringing us to the bridge that crosses over into Ford City. Who would have imagined? Our journey took us through farmlands, woods and neighborhoods, there was always something nice to look at. 

    In Ford City, we drove through its neighborhoods and stopped to admire the old (repainted) ghost sign near the center of town. Then we continued on to Kittanning.

    Here we crossed the river again and continued to follow the road alongside it. We passed businesses and a couple buildings that were falling in on themselves; we passed lots of homes and camps with beautiful views of the river. We passed underneath the Pittsburgh and Shawmut Railroad Bridge. This is a very high bridge. A hotel used to sit at the far end called the Bridgeview Hotel. A station sat near-by for hotel visitors.  About 5 years ago Frank and I ended up there on one of our photo-excursions. 

Notesfrom a Reading Addict: Driving To Mosgrove

    We passed two more lock and dams, #’s 7 & 8. We missed #6. There were LOTS of people on the river. It was definitely a day to be out on the water!

    We finally ended up at the now closed Armstrong Power Plant in Reesedale. Beside the plant the only other structure here was a deserted Church sitting amidst a batch of overgrown shrubbery. We only saw a couple cars go by while we were there. The railroad we had been following crosses the river here. It was rusty and overgrown with weeds, seemingly rarely used any more. We decided it was time to head back, this would be the furthest extent of our trip. We were only about 5 miles away from Brady’s Bend. The temptation to visit the overlook was strong, but our stomachs were starting to growl and dinner was waiting for us at home.

    We had no maps with us, Ann Marie was driving in her new car and she had yet to put her maps in it. We were traveling mostly on instinct. It’s not impossible, but I’d have to say it’s hard to get lost in Pennsylvania. Eventually you will run into a major road that will lead you back home.

    We stopped in West Kittanning for a peanut butter ice cream cone and a banana milk shake before we got onto rt.28 and finished our journey. We had experienced sunshine and sparkling waters and we passed through a couple short rainfalls that turned the roads into steam baths. We passed dams and lots of boaters and campers enjoying the riverbanks. We saw a field filled with sunflowers and lots of beautiful Pennsylvania scenery. We returned back home about 4 hours after we left. The humidity was high, as were the temperatures, but the ride and all the sights we saw made it all worthwhile!

Sounds of the Night

 

Sitting on the front porch with my head tipped up towards the sky, I breathe in the cool air. The sun has set and the sky has darkened. After a warm day filled with chores it feels good to sit and relax, to look up at the bright orange star Arcturus and a few stars of the Big Dipper’s handle. The trees are silhouetted by the brightness of the dark sky, a bit of an oxymoron but yet still true here in my suburban neighborhood. My chair is positioned so that it blocks the bright light on my neighbor's front porch but still my yard is illuminated by its glare.

    I had made the mistake of looking over at it when I came outside and I still am seeing a dark blob as I look up at the sky, it's getting better, and I figured in a few minutes my eyesight will be back to normal. Slowly the dark patch shrunk, and more stars appeared.

    A train had just passed below the house. The heavy sounds of the engines preceded the loud, piercing blare of its whistle. Passing behind hills and around the curves of the valley, the noise of the engines was soon lost with only the clanking and squealing of the cars behind. Soon that was also lost as the train moved north. Quiet, if you want to call it that, had returned.

    Fireflies flickered in the evening’s darkness and a few more stars appeared.

    Cars can be heard on the highway, muffled by the distance yet magnified by the silence. Tires whining and building in volume denote trucks, and like the train, are soon lost as they follow the roadway. Above, an airplane splits the darkness of the sky with its flashing lights and a little after, splits the quiet with the noise of its jets.

    A bright spot appears in the western sky, slowly drifting towards the end of the Dipper’s handle. It is the Chinese space station, Taingong. Approximately 250 miles above me it passes without a sound. I turn to watch it drift into the east and am hit once again by my neighbor’s light. Blinded I get up and move to a shadowed spot where I can see the station as it moves past Vega and then through Cygnus. It slips behind the trees and is lost to me. Mentally I wave good-bye to the six astronauts on board, “Until the next time!”

    Sitting back in my chair I look up at the stars again. Nothing is moving but yet, everything above is in motion. Their distance hides the movements from my mere mortal eyes. Watching further, fireflies flicker, adding some perceptible motion to the canvas above me.

    I sit and remember other times I’ve sat under the night sky. The sounds came back; crickets and cicadas in the spring, deer creeping past and snorting when they see me, the howls of coyotes off in the distance, their pups yipping along with their parents. The sounds of a near-by stream as it gurgles in the darkness, a few yards from my tent, soothing me before I bed down. The sound of the snow softly falling on a cold winter night, accompanied by the crunching of each footstep I take. These are some of the many sounds that make you feel one with nature.

    The noise of the cars and trucks on the road has faded into the background, for the most part un-noticed now. The cool air feels good against my bare arms. Somewhere behind me an airplane’s engines announces its presence; I don’t bother turning around to look. Arcturus has slowly drifted closer to the dark tops of the trees and when I look back again, it has dropped behind them, hiding from my gaze. A car door slams and a horn toots as the car doors lock. I can hear my bed calling to me, quietly but yet still noticeably. I ignore it and continue looking up, thinking about the day gone by and about the new day ahead. The night here is far from quiet, but at the same time, it can be so soothing and peaceful!

One Step at a Time

 Out on a drive, visiting some of my favorite photo haunts, I naturally ended up taking a “few” photographs. Looking at them later I saw that a good many of them where of the same subject.

    The haunts I spoke of are places I visit whenever I am in the neighborhood. They are places that have grabbed my attention in the past, something there has stuck in my memory. Mostly, they are pictures that I want to take. It seems simple enough, go and line up the camera and snap the picture… Unfortunately, the many pictures I’ve taken in these places haven’t yet matched what I had envisioned.

    When looking at a scene, I often pre-visualize what I think the picture should look like. Sadly, the pictures in my head and the one on my computer screen or on the negatives are often different. The lighting may be off, the picture may have been taken too far away or too close or maybe the shot isn’t focused as well as it could’ve been. It can be tough meeting the expectations of my mind!

    While looking through the day’s pictures I noticed a trend. There were a lot of pictures of steps.

    Steps have always interested me as subjects for pictures. They take us places and often we pass them by, never finding out where they might lead. The steps can be opportunities; they can raise us up and let us see things we wouldn’t have otherwise. 

    Steps can be just short moves, a course of action that will take us elsewhere. Sometimes they are clear and obvious while at other times, they can be difficult to see and tough to traverse. Taking these steps can sometimes be rough, working our way through weeds and brush that has covered the treads.

    There are many steps we take every day, all through our lives. From getting up in the morning to dragging our sorry butts back again at the end of the day. These are just the physical steps we take, think of all the mental steps and challenges we take on a daily basis. Do we go up the steps or down, or do we just avoid them and tackle other problems, other steps? There are times you don’t know where they will take you and other times, the steps can save you!

    Steps or stairs, we find them everywhere. In our childhood they keep us away from places we want to go. Over time, we learn to overcome these obstacles and work our way, step by step, up and into the future of our lives.

    Back in the past, we crawled up the steps, each step another accomplishment. Bringing with it the pleasure of slipping back down again on our rumps, each tread accompanied with laughter.

    Little did we realize that we would be climbing stairs for the rest of our lives. Some would be a simple inch or two high while others would seem impossible to overcome. These would be the challenges of life, the desire to always achieve something higher.

    As we climb these stairs we occasionally stumble and that’s to be expected, it’s nothing to worry about, it’s all part of the process. We learn from these trips, slips and loss of balance.

    We start on these stairs when we are fresh from the womb. Learning to feed, learning who our families are and learning who loves us and sadly, who might harm us. There are millions upon millions of steps in the staircase which will lead us in the end, to our demise.

    Every morning when we wake up, we face the stairs again. Hopefully we can look at each step we take as a new height, a new accomplishment, a new personal best. By finding something exciting about each stair, every new height, we can fly up the steps.

    Pictures of steps remind me of the many opportunities I’ve passed by. They are a visualization of the tough, difficult journeys and goals I’ve strived for. They also remind me of all the successful attempts I managed to achieve. The pictures remind me to keep going up... one step at a time!