Lehigh Gorge

From a high point of 1,942 feet back in Freeland, PA, I began to fall today. The climbs still come and go but it’s going my way more often than not. There was break time down in Lehigh Gorge where I sat near ruins at waters edge. A marker identified the ruin as a 18th century tannery destroyed by fire in the 1870’s. What caught my attention was a quote from John James Audubon. He visited the Gorge to sketch and wrote in his journal, “Trees one after another were … constantly heard falling. In a century, the noble forest around should exist no more.” You see, they used the giant Hemlock along the river to provide the tannic acid. They cut them down, stripped the bark, and left the trunks to rot where they fell. The river was said to run black and the area a ecological disaster before the old tannery burned down in the midst of a forest fire. Imagine
what Audubon saw all those years ago. It is reforested now and quite beautiful …still one wonders what Audubon’s “noble forest” looked like.

Taking my time as I wander through these Poconos. The GW Bridge and Peoples Climate March are 9 days and 104 miles away.

Poconos

Squirrelly roads thru these hills leads one to lose his sense of direction

Picture perfect

Cold revival

Tannery ruins in Lehigh gorge

Old train station converted to “Edith’s Kitchen” in Catawissa, pa.

It’s hard to keep a good rhythm walking from trestle to trestle

There’s no excuse. A beautiful state, the right time of year, wonderful, near perfect weather, and great people. So why this shroud of anxiety? A self inflicted wound is the answer. Since entering the Commonwealth, I have been anxious about one thing or another. The goal looms over my every step. Anything could threaten my projected September 20th arrival at the symbolic George Washington Bridge … every “what if” sits squarely on my chest. I squirmed and fretted over those “hills” of western Pa. They seemed so Chaotic and never let my path make a straight line east. I must count and recount the miles each night. The goal would seem to slip further away some nights. Rarely do I take time to acknowledge the success of a good days walk.

Tomorrow looms powerfully in the psyche, and steals most of my attention. This body/machine of mine has many aches and pains … Will one pain become a “show stopper.” I’ve worried endlessly about the directions, or a lack of directions. Somehow in the midst of this state of mind I manage to walk the miles. Today was another 20 mile day. New York is less than 150 miles away. 10 days remain to get there. What need do I have with this anxiousness? Barring a bolt of lightening, i’ll make that bridge with a few days to spare.

Tonight I’ve taken a few deep breaths and relaxed. I’m thinking of these past days in Pennsylvania… these days that have slipped by in my rush of heightened expectation. What wonderful moments I have had here. For starters the maze of hills provided vistas and hidden valleys that I’ll never see at 3 miles per hour again. Eventually they yielded to the uniform ridges and long valleys of central Pennsylvania. The farmland became a tapestry woven by a multitude of crops at various states of life. The artisans of this landscape, the Amish, projected a lifestyle in tune with climate action. Their carbon footprint is very small by choice. It was not a choice made to save their world from carbon emissions, but rather a choice made to keep their communities anchored to these fields I walked thru. I wish some of their sensibilities had found a way into my life, and the lives around me. I was so very close at 3 miles per hour. I could walk with their children as they made their way home from school with lunch cooler in hand, and bare feet on the pavement. I could see the skittish eyes of a 3 mule team as it past me with harvested stalks of corn laying on the flat bed wagon it pulled. These are moments that raised my spirit, and gave me hope. We have immense capabilities of variation and change.

More on Pennsylvania later. I have four more days of walking across her back.

The garden and laundry

A church marquee

Amish harvesting corn in Brush Valley

Walking central Pennsylvania

The Amish of Brush valley

Old school in Millheim Pa.

Mifflinburg cemetery

Hiking into Lewisburg Pa

The Susquehanna River

I crossed the state line near New Castle almost a week ago. It was a steep drop to this riverside town. The next morning it was quite a climb out as well. That’s how Pennsylvania began and I have a strong suspicion, that’s how it will end. I am now in Allegheny country and it isn’t for weak legs. There is up, down, and little in between. I am now 120 miles into the state and the physical demands have left little time or interest for my blog. My foot pad is pushing off the pavement much harder as I walk up the hills and this impact has the effect of bruising the foot. The sensation is most difficult in the morning when I begin to walk. It takes a good hour to loosen up and get a normal walking rhythm. Before that happens I hobble along like Walter Brennan. But there is good news. I am now within 300 miles of the George Washington Bridge. Can I keep up another 15 days of 20 mile bites? Stay tuned.

Scrap yard on the Allegheny River

Yard art in new castle

Yard art

Home outside Emlenton Pa

Emlenton, PA

Typical Farmhouse on a hill

Brookville, PA

Sadly, I didn’t follow…

Birdhouse in Reynoldsville

Sidewalk Pavers