The Bayless Paper and Pulp Mill

 Frank and I hadn’t been on an adventure in a while so we put our heads together and started planning. We decided to take a trip into Potter County to visit the ruins of the Bayless Paper and Pulp Mill.

    Our scheduled date was for Thursday, a day which turned out to be wet, cold and even snowy at times. This didn’t deter us, we dressed accordingly and hit the road. Our departure was very early since we had about a 3 and a half hour drive ahead of us, if we went straight there. Of course, we weren’t going to do that; there are always detours and stops on any good trip!

    I left my house at 4AM. There was a light drizzle, just enough to have the windshield wipers on low. Traffic is nearly non-existent at that time of the morning; we were well away from the suburbs before rush hour started. After loading up on some fresh coffee, we attempted some photos of the steam coming from the power plant across the river from New Kensington. Our first geocache find was still 30 minutes away, in the darkness beside the road. The car headlights were shining on “the spot” while Frank and I rooted around using flashlights trying to locate it. Every so often a big truck would come around the bend, blowing a blast of noise and cold wind at us as it rushed by. Our next geocache further up the road was found in the daylight. 

    We stopped for a couple caches at Scripture Rocks outside of Brookville. In 1908 Douglas Stahlman started carving passages of scripture onto the rocks here. By the time he carved his last passage, in 1913, he had worked on over 500 rocks in the area. He had some "issues" and ended up in a mental hospital where he lived out the rest of his life. A park has been made to help prerve his work and his memory.

    We followed rt.28 up to its’ northern end in Brockway. Continuing on, it wasn’t until nearly 11 before we arrived in Austin, a short distance away from the ruins. Expecting a walk of about a mile in the rain we were happy to find a road led right to where we wanted to go. Parking on the edge of a steep hillside, we left most of our camera gear in the car rather than carry it with us. This made it much easier to maneuver around and through the brush and over debris.

    A large three-legged cement structure stood near where we parked. Doing a bit of research later, I found out it was a Jensson Acid Tower.  Built in 1917, the tower produced sulfite acid liquor for the paper making process. This liquor was produced by mixing limestone, water and sulfur in gaseous form in this tower.  It would have been fun to climb up the tower but unfortunately, it was beyond my abilities. Sitting beside the tower was a concrete structure which was the sulfur house. Chemicals in it were flammable and had to be kept away from the rest of the plant.

    We then worked our way through some high brush and grasses in a swampy flatland over to the remains of the mill. It appeared to be three stories high at one time. The stairs to the upper levels were broken and so we stayed on the main floor. Numerous holes in the floor showed us a water filled basement. The water was very clear with nothing growing in it. Water was in the basements of all the structures we came across.

    A broken set of steps took me down into the basement but that was as far as I could go. Water was dripping from the ceilings leaving small stalactites and also small waterfalls that we had to be careful to avoid. I was glad to be wearing a hat! 

    The Bayless Paper and Pulp Mill remained in business from 1900 to 1944. It was flooded twice and rebuilt. It was a fire that finally shut the plant down.

    We wandered around the ruins trying to comprehend what we were seeing. This place looks so different now as compared to when it was working. It provided jobs and security to the people of Austin and the surrounding areas. What did these various structures do when they were being used? We had to be very careful where we stepped as we roamed around, avoiding the numerous holes and the thick bolts sticking out of the floors. After taking way too many pictures, we made our way back through the brambles to the car.

    We then headed a few miles up a near-by road to where the dam was built. A park and campground is situated below the ruins. The dam was made by the company to provide water for the paper making process. Unfortunately, the company skimped on materials when making the 50 foot high concrete structure. Money for the project was running out and the owner decided to cut back on a few things. This eventually caused the structure to break apart during a period of high water. When built in 1909, the dam was the highest of its type in Pennsylvania. In 1911, three years later it failed and destroyed the Bayless Paper plant, the town of Austin and another below it, and killed 78 people. The town and the company rebuilt. When it was first built, the townspeople called it, “The Dam that Could Not Break”. Looking at the concrete blocks scattered around below the structure, you can’t help but realize the power of all the water held behind it.

    The rain had turned into snow while we explored the remains of the dam and followed us on and off on the way home. We left the snow behind us above rt.80, though the rain stayed with us for the rest of the trip. The day worked out well, when we were out of the car, there weren’t any extreme rains. The ride home was faster than the ride up since we only stopped for a quick lunch at a fast-food joint. There were no geocaches or photo stops on the way back.

    I returned to my house at 5PM, 13 hours after I left, almost to the minute. We didn’t see the sun rise or set on the trip, but we still had a good time. Good conversations, exciting spots to visit, some good pictures, along with some bad ones also, it was a great day. It was everything we expected it to be!

Sitting Out the Rain

 

The day was befitting of a day in fall, dismal with a light rain. It was a day that made you want to sit and do nothing, depressing. It was a good day to leave the house and lift our spirits!

    Ann Marie, Jim and I headed down to the Northside, to a favorite spot to hang out and visit, City Books. There was no doubt that it was autumn, leaves were floating in the puddles, people were wearing jackets and carrying umbrellas and those with shorts on were regretting their choices.

    Inside the store, it was warm and inviting. Boxes of Holiday shipments sat waiting for delivery. The furniture had been rearranged leaving a nice conversation pit surrounding a small round table. There weren’t many walk-ins so we took advantage of this and sat down with Arlan, the store’s owner and started to solve the world’s problems. Books were discussed along with interesting stories and recent travels. It was comfortable sitting in a small circle, watching people rushing by outside in the rain. All it needed was a small fireplace with some crackling logs in it.  

    This made me remember sitting in a small bookstore in Oakland. Sitting off of South Craig Street, Townsend Books was situated in a small house. There were two floors; the owners lived upstairs and the books downstairs. Bookshelves were everywhere.

    One special memory stands out; it was a snowy day, back when a forecast for snow meant more than just a light flurry. The weather was very cold and when I came inside my glasses fogged over. Knocking the snow off my boots the smell of a burning fire hit my senses. After saying good afternoon to the man behind the counter and loosening up my coat and scarf I started browsing the shelves, working my way back to the room that had the fireplace in it. I can remember to this day how I thought that this was exactly what a bookstore should be. A congenial owner behind the counter, lots of exciting books to look through, a couple chairs to sit in while contemplating my purchases and a nice warm fire to sit beside. It didn’t have any animals in it, a dog or a cat would have made it perfect but I’m not going to hold that against them.

    In those days there were three bookstores situated near each other in the Oakland area. I made sure to visit all three whenever I was there. Only a couple blocks separated Townsend Books from Bryn Mawr-Vassar Books and the Caliban Book Shop. Townsend Books lasted 21 years before it shut down in 2012. Bryn Mawr shut down earlier in 2005 after 33 years in business. In this section of Oakland, only Caliban Books survives to this day.

    History is no stranger to City Books. It was first opened as City Books and Antiques in 1984 on Carson Street on Pittsburgh's South Side. One of the interesting things about this store was the spiral staircase in the middle of the shop and the coffee bar on the 2nd floor. It had a cat or two that would sleep in the window, basking in the sunshine. It remained in the South Side until the final day of 2014. Arlan then bought the store and relocated it to the Northside. It is the oldest Independant Bookstore in Pittsburgh!

(The pictures above were taken on Dec.31, 2014)

    Ann Marie and I visited the original store on December 31st, 2014, its last day open. I still have the book I bought that day, The Best Loved Poems of Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, written by her daughter Caroline Kennedy. Slipped inside the book is a newspaper article about the store closing. Little did we know that it would soon be re-opened and we would become regular customers and friends with the owner.

    Our world takes us on some strange journeys and we never really know how anything will turn out or where we will end up. The best thing I can suggest is go along with the flow and enjoy the ride!

   After an hour or so, we said our good-byes and let Arlan get back to her work. Stepping out into the wet world outside the comfortable confines of the store, I thought about how good it is to have a local bookstore near-by. I can both feed my literary addiction and spend some time with a friend, or should I say friends? (We can’t forget “the books”!)

On the Road - Election Day 2024

 

The political calls and messages I have been getting over the past couple weeks has driven me close to madness. I don’t even open them anymore to see if they are from a friend or doctor, I just delete them! (Sorry to anyone who might have sent me a text recently!)

    I woke up early enough on Voting Day to get a shower and some breakfast before I went down to my local polling spot. I was happy to see a larger than normal group when I arrived. I stood outside the building for about 5 minutes before the doors were opened and I was pleased to be number 18 this year. The line strung out to the door as I headed back to the car holding my “I Voted” sticker tightly in my hand.

    Ann Marie had already voted by mail so we both were finished with our political obligations. Those that don’t vote can’t complain…

    The temperatures were supposed to be going into the 80’s so we decided that it would be a great day for a drive. We got a couple cups of hot coffee and headed south. We ended up on Rt.40 as we passed Uniontown.

     Just past the Summit Inn at the top of the mountain, we stopped to visit the Wharton Furnace. We’ve been here before when we had just started dating, it is a place I like to visit whenever we pass by. The furnace was first fired up in 1839 and finally went out of blast in 1873. They used steam power to raise the temperatures in the furnace. It was rebuilt back in the 1960’s.

    Back on Rt.40 we did a couple quick geocaches and then stopped to visit the Youghiogheny River Lake and to walk across the “historic” Great Crossing Bridge. The bridge and the town of Somerfield were submerged in the 1940’s when a dam was erected, creating a lake out of the Youghiogheny River. Normally covered with 50 feet of water, during drought conditions the bridge reappears. Foundations of many of the town’s buildings are exposed also.

    The town of Somerfield was laid out in 1818, the same year that the bridge was opened. The bridge crossed the Youghiogheny River and was part of the National Pike as Rt.40 was called then. The town had two streets, Bridge Street and River Road along with a few assorted alleys. In 1883 there were five stores in the town including a Department Store! The residents earned their livings by working in lumber and coal industries in the near-by areas.

    When the dam was built to provide flood control and hydroelectric power, 176 people were forced to leave their homes. Jockey Hollow which sat on the far side of the bridge was destroyed also, along with 9 other small communities.

    This isn’t uncommon, in Moraine State Park there is another community that was displaced when Lake Arthur was made in 1970. The village of Isle was relocated before the dam was built. The original rt.422 can still be seen going into and out of the lake on the shores.

    Walking down a boat ramp which used to be the National Pike, we passed the cement foundations of houses and stores. The sidewalks are still there along with the stumps of trees that used to line the street. Wandering around the town we came across numerous remains. Just when we thought we’ve seen them all, we would see another one.

    There was a large crowd of people who had come to see the bridge due in part to newscasts and social media, much like us. We were thinking that there wouldn’t be many there on a Tuesday but we were sorely mistaken! Perhaps they were trying to avoid all the election brouhaha also. In some ways it resembled a pilgrimage.

    Later we stopped a short distance away from the lake to take some pictures of an old restaurant or night club that had been destroyed by fire decades ago. A sign remains but it can no longer be read. There were two large fireplaces at either end of the building; unfortunately there are no floors underneath them. Burnt doorframes on the bottom floor show evidence of what helped destroy the building.

    Proceeding north we came across a sign saying that a covered bridge was a mile away so we took the turn just to take a look. The Lower Humbert Bridge was built in 1891. We stopped to take some pictures and to enjoy the sights and sounds of the stream and the smells of the day.

    Back on the road we came across a nice-looking barn with not one but two Mail Pouch Tobacco signs on it. We made another stop, because we weren’t in any rush. We had the time to enjoy the scenery!

    Soon we were in Somerset and heading back towards home. We had both of our phones and the radio turned off so we weren’t bothered by any election updates or notifications. We had voted and whatever was going to happen was beyond our control. We drove with the windows open letting the smells of autumn flow through the car. We returned home happy, relaxed and ready…for whatever the election might bring!

An Early Sunday Morning

 Steam was rising from my coffee cup. Its dark liquid was invigorating me and keeping my hands warm as I stood outside in the early morning. The trees were just dark shapes and the sky was still attempting to brighten up. The moon cast a shadow behind me into the yard. Bright stars were still visible though they were slowly disappearing. The air was cool and refreshing, it smelled clean and fresh. There was a slight smell of dried leaves in it. It was the smell of fall and the approach of winter.

    The whirr of a furnace lent a bit of a background noise along with the soft murmuring of cars in the distance. The noises were barely noticeable in the pre-dawn.

    Coming out of the trees in the west a bright spot appeared. It wasn’t an airplane; it was a satellite with three human beings in it! Their sunrise had already happened. It was the sun shining off the surface of the ship that made it visible. This sunrise was one of many sunrises the astronauts on board see every day. It takes their space station about an hour and a half to circle the earth, so their day is filled with sunrises and sunsets.

    I watched as the space station drifted between the Moon and the planet Jupiter. Stars were getting fainter and disappearing as I watched. Unlike the stars the satellite got brighter as it moved towards the east and the approaching sun. I watched as it slipped between some trees and finally disappeared into the orange tinged horizon.

    Returning inside, I rinsed out my mug and finished my preparations for Church. Going out to the car, the trees had gone from black to a combination of dull oranges and yellows. The sky was now pale blue with a peach colored horizon. Sitting in the car as it warmed up I watched as the trees brightened, preparing for the burst of beauty that would occur when the sun first hits them and reveals their true fall colors.

    The shadows from the moon were gone and depth of the blue in the sky was increasing as I drove up the hill to Church. Sitting in the pew, the first bright beams of the newly risen sun hit the wall above the altar, and I knew that my trees at home were glowing!  I knew it was going to be a wonderful day. I returned my thoughts to the Mass and gave thanks for all the wonderful things I've been given. What a great way to start a day!

My Kind of Bookstore!

 We had hoped to see some of the leaves starting to change in their yearly show but for the most part, we were a bit early. There were lots of leaves on the ground but the colors hadn’t hit their peak yet. While driving we passed through areas with the sweet smell of burning leaves, taking us back to our childhoods. We ended up across the border in West Virginia and so we stopped at a bookstore located not far from Cheat Lake.

    We have tried to visit this store on other occasions but every time we had come down to this area it wasn’t open either because it was too early in the morning or the store wasn’t open on the day we arrived. Today our timing was on and the store was open!

    From the outside, Antiques and Old Books doesn’t look special but walking inside the door, I was taken to another time and place. It was as if we had been invited into the owner’s home. Books filled the shelves and cabinets in all directions. Desks and tables had groupings of books along with antiques nicely placed around them. It wasn’t overcrowded; everything seemed to be right in its proper place. It was as if we had stepped back in time.

    An old brass bell ringer sat beside the cash register with a world globe sitting near-by. Books were lined up in front of the counter and a glass display case held a variety of smaller items above them. Behind the desk was a set of shelves with nicely bound books, giving the shop a look of distinction. But it was all the other bookshelves that grabbed my attention. Where does a person start in a strange bookshop? Where else but with the owner, of course...

    Jo Ann was standing behind the desk right inside the door and after greeting us was happy to show us around and familiarize us with her shelves. She has a lot of West Virginia related books and authors including many signed volumes. Antiques sat amongst the books as if they had been put more for display than to be sold. Pottery, wooden bowls, linens and typewriters sat with small collections of books beside them. Open shelves and cabinets with glass doors held books and there was even a doll house beings used to store some children’s books. While many of the books were old, they were in good condition!

    I went over to the books written by West Virginian authors. It was a tall set of shelves with a chair sitting across from it. Stretching up a bit I squinted to see what was on the top shelf. Running my eyes across the titles I would occasionally pull one down and open it up. I’d look at the paper it was printed on, is it thick paper that has started to disintegrate with time or is it a better quality of paper? Of course the subject matter of the book is important. If I’m not interested in the subject, the book gets replaced. I check the front to see when it was published and to see if by chance the author had signed their name in it. I find looking through a book store much like a game, a search to see what I can find.

    There is a good feeling I get when I’m turning thin nicely printed pages. These books are fragile, they need cared for and a quick glance through the pages show if any drinks have been spilled on them or if any notes have been scribbled in the margins. I want to know that the previous owners cared for their books. I look for any illustrations or maps that might be in them. 

    If it is non-fiction, I check the index for things I’m interested in and if so, check to see what the author has written about it. Are there any water spots, mold or a cracked spine and how does it smell? Old books should have a wonderful smell. These are all part of my process of evaluating a book. Another very important thing I check is of course, the price!

    I worked my way though the shelves and then went over to where the train books were stored. While I browsed I marveled at the various antiques and pictures setting beside the books. I ended up in a small corner cabinet where I found some books dealing with Pennsylvania and its history.

    While Ann Marie was going through sets of linens in the drawer of a near-by dresser I was delving into Pennsylvania’s past. I left the store with a nice copy of The History of Pennsylvania from the 1940’s written for students and also picked up a book titled Living with Books published in 1965, which I think was intended for librarians. Ann Marie purchased a copy of Onward and Upward in the Garden by Katharine S. White, printed in 1979, written by the wife of the author who wrote Charlotte’s Web.

    Visiting a bookshop for the first time, it is nearly impossible to see everything. We will definitely return here again to see what other treasures we might have missed. This bookstore will be added to our list of “favorites”!

    On our trip we visited some iron furnace remains; some waterfalls, another bookstore and we ate dinner in Morgantown before heading back. It was a beautiful day for a memorable drive. We got lots of fresh air and saw three sunrises and two sunsets thanks to the topography of the roads and the mountains in the distance. I’ve said it before, the area around western Pennsylvania has so many nice things in it to explore and discover!

    Another thing that will draw us back to this bookstore again is to visit with Elliott. He was sleeping behind the counter but we could hear him snoring. I don’t know how old this Basset Hound is but he sure enjoyed having his throat rubbed. His long ears felt like silk. He reminded me of my own Basset Hound, Romeo, a cherished pet from my youth. Books and dogs, a couple of the things I’d learned to love at an early age!