Make Tracks Through Blair

On October 15, 2017 · 1 Comments

Our first day in Huntingdon County, Pennsylvania went so well that I wondered how I would top it. Its neighbor, Blair County gave it a good run for the money though. I came up with a really good one-day itinerary too, all aligned with a railroad theme. On top of that it followed a leisurely route, covering just thirty miles (fifty kilometres) in its entirety.

I warned the kids they’d probably get tired of trains by the end of the day although they seemed to enjoy it. Well, not the last stop. We dropped them off at the hotel before that one.

Allegheny Portage Railroad


Allegheny Portage Railroad
Allegheny Portage Railroad

I talked enough about the Allegheny Portage Railroad recently so I’ll just summarize things briefly. Canals on opposing sides of the Allegheny Mountains faced a dilemma. Quite simply, water didn’t flow uphill. Entrepreneurs developed an inventive solution though. They loaded canal boats onto rail cars and tugged them up and over the hills with pulleys similar to tow ropes found on modern ski slopes (map). Primitive railroad engines (photo) pulled the loaded cars between inclines. This inventive portage across the gap measured nearly 37 miles (60 km) between Hollidaysburg and Johnstown.

The Allegheny Portage Railroad National Historic Site preserved the remains of Incline 6, at the system’s elevation summit right on the Eastern Continental Divide. This included a reconstruction of an Engine House that powered a rope (later a wire) on a loop. Cars attached to the rope so they could travel uphill or downhill depending on where they were heading.

Then we walked down a wide grassy path along where the railroad once ran. This led down to the Skew Arch Bridge (photo). Here, the Huntington, Cambria and Indiana Turnpike used to cross above the railroad. Teamsters pulling wagons on the turnpike had trouble making 90 degree turns so builders placed a bridge at an oblique angle. That skew provided the bridge’s name.

Back uphill, we walked a short distance past the Engine House to a home built by Samuel Lemon in the early 1830’s (photo). There he operated a popular tavern catering to travelers on the portage. County lines followed the summit through here so I claim a bonus county — Cambria! — simply by walking to the Lemon House.

An Optional Site

We passed one more site soon after we left the park, a turnoff for the Gallitzin Tunnels Park & Museum. I didn’t know about it ahead of time so we’d already passed it before it dawned on me. It would have been a good stop. The original tunnel built there in 1854 spelled the end of the Allegheny Portage Railroad and its canals. Nobody needed them once a train could cover the same territory a lot quicker.


Horseshoe Curve


Horseshoe Curve
Horseshoe Curve

Next came Horseshoe Curve. All of the promotional material described the curve (map) as "World Famous" so I took them at their word. It did impress me. Here, three tracks hugged the hillside, providing a manageable grade all the way to the Allegheny summit a few miles away. This became one of the most heavily used tracks in the United States when it opened, a position it still held more than a century and a half later. There simply weren’t that many good places to cross the mountains.

A visitor center included a small museum although the curve itself was the main attraction. Railfans came out in force. They sat in lawn chairs with their cameras and video equipment, waiting for each train to rumble along. It truly was an impressive spectacle. I felt surrounded by trains as they wrapped around the curve. We even got to experience two trains descending simultaneously, a coal train moving slowly as an intermodal train passed it.

A Funicular Too!


Horseshoe Curve
Funiculars Passing at Horseshoe Curve Park

The visitor center rested at the base of the hill while the train spotting area sat farther uphill next to the tracks. People could either walk up a long flight of stairs or take the funicular. This offered a nice little attraction while making the park handicapped accessible. Who wouldn’t want to ride the funicular, anyway? It didn’t compare to my adventures on the Monongahela Incline in Pittsburgh although it seemed to fit nicely within the rail theme of the day. This one featured a single set of tracks that split apart as the counterweighted cars passed each other.


Altoona Railroaders Memorial Museum


Altoona Railroaders Memorial Museum
Altoona Railroaders Memorial Museum

The same group that managed the Horseshoe Curve viewing area also managed the Altoona Railroaders Memorial Museum in town. We got the combo ticket for both and saved a few bucks. Until I toured the museum (map) I didn’t truly appreciate the importance of the Pennsylvania Railroad to the city of Altoona. Essentially, Altoona wouldn’t have existed otherwise. The railroad founded Altoona at a strategic point at the base of the Allegheny crossing. It later built the Altoona Works there, a massive facility used to build, test, repair and maintain locomotives. More than 16,000 people labored at the Altoona Works during its highpoint in the 1920’s.

The Pennsy influenced practically every facet of Altoona, about as close to a company town as one could imagine. However Altoona began its decline earlier than many Rust Belt cities. First came the Great Depression. Then came the railroad’s switch from steam power to diesel locomotives. The new locomotives required much less maintenance and many fewer laborers at the Altoona Works. Finally came a general decline in railroading altogether. Altoona reached a peak population in 1930 when 83,000 people lived there. It dropped residents in every Census thereafter, leaving an estimated population of 45,000 by 2016.


Railroad City Brewing Company


Railroad City Brewing Company
Railroad City Brewing Company

We wrapped up the day, continuing the railroad theme, with a visit to Railroad City Brewing Company in downtown Altoona (map). Somehow that seemed appropriate.

We called our visit to Blair County a success.

Autumn in Huntingdon

On October 12, 2017 · 2 Comments

I completed the little adventure I described in County Hunter a few days ago. The first leg involved a course through previously unvisited Huntingdon County, Pennsylvania. Don’t confuse this with Huntington (with a T) elsewhere in Pennsylvania, a township in Adams County near Gettysburg. I kept messing up searches because my mind wanted to spell it the wrong way too. Nonetheless, everything worked out and I found plenty to do Huntingdon, the one with a D. The weather cooperated in early Autumn, the leaves showed signs of color, and the county brimmed with seasonal activities. Our drive up from the Washington, DC area that morning left us with too little time to see everything. We needed to select carefully.

St. Mary’s Covered Bridge


St. Mary's Covered Bridge
St. Mary’s Covered Bridge

I planned a route directly through the heart of the county. It took us from the wonderfully named Burnt Cabins, as we crossed the border heading north on U.S. Route 522, then northwest on U.S. Route 22 through the actual town of Huntingdon, and onward towards Altoona in the neighboring county (route). I looked for the usual attractions I liked to track on my many lists, of course. Covered bridges seemed to be a thing with me lately so I found the only remaining covered bridge in Huntingdon County online and added it to my itinerary. Really, how could I do otherwise? The bridge crossed Shade Creek on Covered Bridge Road just as it had since 1896, within eyesight of our route. It required no detour whatsoever and offered easy parking (map). Perfect.

The bridge sat just across the road from St. Mary’s Catholic Church in Orbisonia. I just loved some of those place names in Huntingdon. Anyway, locals called it St. Mary’s Covered Bridge for the appropriate reason, or Shade Gap Bridge or even the unimaginative official name, Huntingdon County Bridge No. 8. I may have seen more imposing, more architecturally distinct, more historically significant covered bridges before although I didn’t have to go out of my way for this one either. It did feature a rather unusual two-tone paint job too. All-in-all the bridge offered a satisfactory start to my hunt through Huntingdon. It merited a brief stop for photos.


Rockhill Trolley Museum


Rockhill Trolley Museum
Rockhill Trolley Museum

It look all of ten minutes to drive up to Rockhill Furnace borough once we left the bridge (map). I wanted to see the Rockhill Trolley Museum. I wondered why a museum dedicated to preserving trolleys existed in such an out-of-the-way place. Trolleys provided urban and sometime suburban transportation in the days before buses overtook them. The concept never would have worked in a town of 400 in the middle of rolling Pennsylvania farmland. Nonetheless, the trolley museum found a home there, with plenty of space to restore old cars plus a couple of miles of suitable track and overhead electrical wires to run them.

By chance, our visit coincided with the museum’s annual Fall Spectacular weekend. That meant they let some of their rare equipment that usually sat in storage see some daylight and run the rails briefly again. People could ride them, too. A ticket lasted for the entire day and visitors could take as many trips on the old trolleys as they could stand. One ride seemed just fine for us though. We took a 1931 Brill Bullet Tram once operated by the Southeastern Pennsylvania Transportation Authority (SEPTA) in the Philadelphia area. Then we explored the rail yard for awhile.

Many other visitors qualified as true railfans (or trainspotters to the UK audience). They flocked to the museum on this special weekend both to ride the trolleys and to photograph them in action. People with cameras and video equipment lined the track anytime a trolley started rolling. I didn’t share that level of passion although I certainly understood it. After all, I have similar enthusiasm for other things not necessarily considered mainstream, like this whole County Counting obsession that led me to Huntingdon in the first place.


Lincoln Caverns


Lincoln Caverns
Lincoln Caverns Ready for Halloween

The boys liked visiting caves and I found one along our direct path (map). We arrived at Lincoln Caverns about a half-hour after we left the trolleys. It featured something special for the season too, a spooky Halloween theme called Ghosts & Goblins. We didn’t know this ahead of time. Ordinarily I wouldn’t mind it although I do find contrived hauntings a bit silly. My one son, however, didn’t like spooky stuff at all. He simply wanted to see the cave. Fortunately the good folks at Lincoln Caverns gladly offered a regular tour without the frights and scares, and gory creatures jumping from behind stalagmites with bloody butchers’ knives and such. It did feel a bit odd to have someone in a werewolf costume describe cave features although it seemed an appropriate compromise and we all enjoyed and appreciated it.

Lincoln Caverns also included a second smaller cave called Whisper Rocks in the same admission. This one, just uphill a few hundred feet, didn’t share the Halloween theme. It was a completely normal tour led by someone without a costume. Afterwards, our guide walked us down a wooded path to an open field nearby. There we climbed onto a wagon pulled by a tractor for an old-fashioned hayride. I totally didn’t expected that. It was part of the same seasonal package: a spooky cave; a normal cave and a little hayride. What a nice way to end an enjoyable afternoon during my first ever visit to Huntingdon County. Thank you, Huntingdon. It was a pleasure.

Onward to Blair County!

Body Parts

On October 5, 2017 · 2 Comments

The more I thought about it, apparently body parts influenced an awful lot of geographic names. It seemed natural though. People liked to name things after familiar objects. What could be more familiar than the flesh right there in front of them? From head to feet and practically everywhere in between, I found spots on the map that shared those names. I focused on a small sample of some of the more interesting references.

Foot


A Portage to Freedom
A Portage to Freedom via TradingCardsNPS on Flickr (cc)

The name that began this latest search appeared in Pennsylvania. Imagine living in a place called Foot of Ten (map). Within this unincorporated village stood the Foot of Ten Independent Baptist Church. Its website solved the mystery.

The Pennsylvania Legislature authorized construction of a canal between Philadelphia and Pittsburgh in 1826. This would do more than simply connect two cities, it would open a trade route between the eastern seaboard and the frontier. Pittsburgh offered direct access to the Ohio and Mississippi River watersheds. However, builders faced a problem, the Eastern Continental Divide atop the Allegheny Mountains. Tunnels or locks would not be feasible on such a massive scale.

Instead, the builders borrowed an idea from England, the use of inclined planes. I mentioned such structures in Tunnels, Bridges, Lifts and Inclines a few years ago. Here the solution became the Allegheny Portage Railroad. Barges loaded onto rail cars and went through a series of ten inclined planes; five uphill and five downhill. Then they resumed their canal ride on the other side. Pulleys and ropes helped move loaded rail cars between inclines, up and over the ridge. They named each incline numerically, from one to ten. A little village sprouted at the foot of Incline Ten. Not being terribly original, the village became Foot of Ten.


Knee


Wounded Knee South Dakota
Wounded Knee South Dakota. Photo by Adam Singer on Flickr (cc)

Wounded Knee leapt immediately to mind as I considered noteworthy examples. Wounded Knee Creek flowed into the White River in southwestern South Dakota (map). The name originated exactly as I thought. Rival groups of Native Americans clashed at that spot somewhere in the long forgotten past and one of the men suffered a wound to his knee. Thus, Wounded Knee. Those events happened well before Wounded Knee entered the lexicon for an entirely different reason.

Historians used to call an infamous 1890 incident the "Battle of Wounded Knee." More contemporary interpretations labeled it the "Wounded Knee Massacre." The exact sequence of events will likely never be known. By one account it began when U.S. Cavalry soldiers attempted to disarm members of the Lakota tribe at their encampment. One member of the tribe, being deaf, did not understand the soldiers’ intent. A struggle for his rifle and a possible accidental discharge began a shooting spree on both sides. The soldiers didn’t stop firing until 150 Lakota, including unarmed women and children, lay dead upon the frozen ground.


Backbone


Devils Backbone - Outpost
Devils Backbone – Outpost. My own Photo.

In Virginia, the small Devils Backbone brewery grew quickly, eventually large enough to be purchased by Anheuser-Busch InBev in 2016. I’ve been to both their original brewpub location in Roseland and their "Outpost" production brewery outside of Lexington during my beer wanderings. Naturally I wondered about the unusual name. Did it come from the geography of the nearby Blue Ridge Mountains?


JeffFryDetail
Fry-Jefferson map” of Virginia (1751) via Wikimedia Commons, in the Public Domain

Actually, the name did indeed and it tied to a rather notable colonial-era accomplishment. The brewery’s website explained further.

On September 25, 1746, eight years before the French and Indian War, a party of forty set out from Bear Fence Mountain in the Blue Ridge on one of the most legendary land surveys in American history… Their task was to carve and measure a straight line, eighty-miles long through the wilderness, connecting the sources of the Rappahannock and Potomac Rivers. This line was known as "The Fairfax Line."

I visited the northwestern terminus of that line at the Fairfax Stone last year.

The Geographic Names Information System listed several different Devils Backbones just in Virginia alone. Looking at the Fry-Jefferson Map of 1751, the one inspiring the brewery seemed to be the ridge on the western flank of the Shenandoah Valley (map). The survey line crossed what they called "The North Ridge alias the Devil’s Back Bone." not too far west of current Mount Jackson, the town with the awesome water tower.


Finger


Cayuga Lake
Cayuga Lake. My own photo.

So many interesting places existed throughout the world that I generally don’t travel to the same place more than once. I’ve made an exception for the Finger Lakes of New York. I’ve explored the region twice and I’d love to get there a third time. It’s that beautiful. These lakes earned their name for their appearance, like fingers pressed upon the earth.



Glaciation, as one might expect, created these lakes. Glaciers during the most recent ice age pushed down through north-south valleys. Their southward flow accentuated these valleys and left deep, broad troughs behind. They also pushed debris to their farthest extremes. When the glaciers retreated, those large debris moraines became natural dams. Water filled the troughs, and behold, the Finger Lakes appeared. Creeks and rivers left hanging after ice retreated created amazing waterfalls like Taughannock Falls, Watkins Glen and Buttermilk Falls.


So Many More

I could go on-and-on although it’s probably time to stop. Heads, teeth, mouths, elbows and lots of other body parts appeared across the landscape. I so wanted to add Liverpool. Unfortunately, Liverpool was not named for the liver. It came from the Old English word "lifer," meaning "thick, clotted water." Yuk. Even a liver sounded more attractive.

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12 Mile Circle:
An Appreciation of Unusual Places
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