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lblanchardNot surprisingly after a night of being extremely damp and unhappy, we were up at 5:30. We played with our Blackberries, looked at the photos we'd taken so far, and waited for it to be 8:00 and, therefore, breakfast time. We waltzed into the dining room at 8:05 and into a new waitress's nightmare: 25 hungry patrons and the other waitress called out sick. It took us almost 15 minutes to get coffee and the hostess pronounced herself mortified but we said we could clearly see how hard the waitress was working (while wondering why the hostess wasn't hustling out there with a coffeepot, but she may have been doing something backstage). Breakfast, when we got it, was fine -- Roy had SOS, I had sunny side up eggs and bacon, we both had toast and fries.
So what's the plan?, Roy asked. And the fact was that I had no plan. My plan had been to drive around a bit the previous day, then make the Lumber Museum our centerpiece Sunday destination, and we'd already been there. So the plan became forensic railroading. We started with the Galeton station and engine house, a pair of depressing places, especially if it's raining. Roy went into the engine house (pictured behind him, here). I stayed outside. Then we tromped about around the train station, which hasn't been occupied since the last short line operator folded, around 30 years ago. The lawn is being mowed, which is good.
Out behind the station I found the remnants of a couple of railroad ties and some regular depressions in the ground where ties had rotted, mute indications of where the rail lines had run. Beyond that, in some tall weed I found a rusted hulk that Roy tells me was a track car. I photographed the hulk and then used my new "put the camera on my walking stick, press the 10-second delay and shove it in the cab" technique to photograph the inside. I found a little flower I didn't recognize and took its picture (but didn't upload it to Flickr because it wasn't very good).
Then it was off in search of traces of the Wellsville, Addison and Galeton in the hinterlands. We took Rt 449 west of Galeton, and somewhere near Brookland photographed the roadbed from the two arms of a wye, which we discovered by using Roy's Blackberry navigation dingus to take us onto a dirt road that led to the top of the world. Nearby we found a sign telling us that we were at a spot that straddled three watersheds -- the only such spot east of the Mississippi. The headwaters of the Allegheny River are on one side of this hill; other sides of the hill drain into Pike Creek, which drains into the Susquehanna and hence to the Chesapeake Bay, and to the Genesee River, which flows into the St. Lawrence. Along these roads I also found a glorious stand of musk mallow, which I photographed, and another flower I didn't recognize, photographed with only middling success, but finally identified as biennial gaura. This was at the confluence of the young Allegheny River and the Dwight Creek.
From there, we came into Coudersport via Route 49 and 44.
Coudersport is still clearly reeling from the collapse of Adelphia Communications and the various philanthropies that its owners, the Rigas family, supported in their home town. Nevertheless, the city has persevered with a municipal hall in the repurposed Coudersport station, together with an all-wars memorial and a memorial arboretum. Elsewhere in town, the Coudersport Theater, like others on the northern tier, is showing first-run films (the current offering is Transformers 2).
Driving around town, we noted a derelict old Victorian building on Main Street, shoehorned between the Old Hickory Bowling Alley and the minuscule Allegheny River, contained between concrete conduits. The building was most recently the Old Hickory Tavern, where Elliot Ness worked at drinking himself to death upon his retirement, but before that the home of prominent businessman F. W. Knox.
The Italian Villa style house was — and still is — renowned as one of the most magnificent in the County. Knox was particular about building it entirely from materials to be found in Potter County. (Rummaging on The Google, I have learned that F. W. Knox, b. 1824, was an attorney, a burgess, one of the organizers of the Wellsville, Addison, and Galeton Railway, and one of the men involved in the creation of the local Presbyterian congregation. For more details, see http://www.pa-roots.org/data/read.php?681,433019 )
We photographed Old Hickory, as well as another magnificent brick mansion recently restored as a bed and breakfast and just across from the mammoth Scottish Rite Consistory, as well as a selection of other historic buildings.
Heading back east, we passed beyond Galeton to the Grand Canyon of Pennsylvania -- the Colton Point Overlook, in fact. After waiting in the car for half an hour for the weather to clear, while numerous other vehicles came and left, we decided to go find lunch. We ate at The Log Cabin (est. 1932), an aggressively homey place whose cinnamon candle odor overwhelmed me when I walked in. Presented with the Sunday dinner menu, we were about to leave, because all we wanted was a sandwich. But when we apologized to the hostess for taking up her time she produced a sandwich menu, including a sausage, pepper and onion sandwich which, she averred, was based on a sausage recipe from her husband's family. How could we resist? So we had the sandwiches, which were delighted despite the cinnamon candle accompaniment, and then went back to Colton Point.
The weather cleared somewhat at Colton Point, and also at another overlook further down, and we were able to see the Pine Creek hundreds of feet below, with the hiking biking trail on the old railroad bed beside it. We had biked the trail, some years back. It runs nineteen miles one way, on gravel, and I was pretty tuckered by the time we got back to Blackwell, PA. It was nice, though, to look down on it and say "I've been there."
The tourism folk are pleased to call this the Grand Canyon of Pennsylvania, which I think is a mistake. It invites comparison with the painted rocks of the actual Arizona Grand Canyon, all eighteen miles in length and one mile cut through layers and layers of rock by the Colorado River. The gorge cut by the Pine Creek as it descends to join the Susquehanna is nowhere nearly that deep, nor the scenery so spectacular; the tree-covered hills offer a much different view. There is breathtaking beauty, to be sure, but not of the same showstopper kind. It's more subtle, especially when hills and valley are both wreathed by mist as they were during the breaks in the rain.
Returning to Galeton, we walked around the lake, taking pictures as we went. We were especially struck by a scene right out of the 50s -- a group of perhaps eight children, none over the age of twelve, wading and swimming in the lake. A couple of them had dropped their bikes with no fear of them being stolen, and no one seemed to be afraid of the children drowning, neither the children themselves nor the many adults who walked or drove by. Life was much simpler when we allowed children the courtesy of assuming they had a modicum of common sense.
We decided to drive back to Germania, or more properly to Germania Station this time, and thence to Cherry Springs park and state forest. We passed two beautiful overlooks -- Cherry Springs Vista and Water Tank Hol. Vista -- whose views rivaled anything we saw on Skyline Drive. At Cherry Springs Vista, we saw abundant tiger swallowtails, fluttering and fluttering and feeding on the lush stand of thistle there. One of the things that struck us was how uncrowded it was in comparison with Skyline Drive or the Blue Ridge Parkway. Perhaps if the weather had been better there would have been more people. As it was, we had the roads, the park, and the overlook to ourselves.
Back in Galeton again, we took a few more pictures of the town, including a quick shot of the library hours and a couple views of the Tannery Pump, plus some shots of interesting buildings here and there. One of the buildings I photographed was The Wonder Bar, which I suspect of being the local dive. We'd passed it a couple of times in our travels so I marked it for a shot. I had to suppress a giggle when I discovered that they had a small plot of vegetables beside it, in a raised bed, decorated lavishly with small American flags and yellow caution tape.
As I walked around taking the pictures, I crossed the path of a small group of teenagers with a mixed-breed dog. The kids viewed me with small town teenagers' wariness toward outsiders, but the dog was frantically delighted to have someone new to sniff. So I made much of the dog and explained to the kids that I was still recovering from having to put our dog to sleep. One of them replied that he had had a German Shepherd / Shar Pei mix and it was a great dog. I mentioned that we were visiting and staying over at the Ox Yoke Inn, and one of the boys said, "It's a pretty cool little town." And it is. If you click through the pump picture you'll get to the Wonder Bar and some other interesting places.
We returned to the Ox Yoke Inn, reviewed our photos again, and then went up to the bar for dinner, where we had the smaller cut of prime rib, tossed salad, and garlic mashed potatoes -- oh, yes, and Manhattans. In defense of our room, it must be said that despite the lack of amenities, and despite the damp, consistency of water temperature and pressure were perfect.
There are 77 pictures from July 26, beginning here. All entries from this vacation are tagged "anniversary trip."
So what's the plan?, Roy asked. And the fact was that I had no plan. My plan had been to drive around a bit the previous day, then make the Lumber Museum our centerpiece Sunday destination, and we'd already been there. So the plan became forensic railroading. We started with the Galeton station and engine house, a pair of depressing places, especially if it's raining. Roy went into the engine house (pictured behind him, here). I stayed outside. Then we tromped about around the train station, which hasn't been occupied since the last short line operator folded, around 30 years ago. The lawn is being mowed, which is good. Out behind the station I found the remnants of a couple of railroad ties and some regular depressions in the ground where ties had rotted, mute indications of where the rail lines had run. Beyond that, in some tall weed I found a rusted hulk that Roy tells me was a track car. I photographed the hulk and then used my new "put the camera on my walking stick, press the 10-second delay and shove it in the cab" technique to photograph the inside. I found a little flower I didn't recognize and took its picture (but didn't upload it to Flickr because it wasn't very good).
Then it was off in search of traces of the Wellsville, Addison and Galeton in the hinterlands. We took Rt 449 west of Galeton, and somewhere near Brookland photographed the roadbed from the two arms of a wye, which we discovered by using Roy's Blackberry navigation dingus to take us onto a dirt road that led to the top of the world. Nearby we found a sign telling us that we were at a spot that straddled three watersheds -- the only such spot east of the Mississippi. The headwaters of the Allegheny River are on one side of this hill; other sides of the hill drain into Pike Creek, which drains into the Susquehanna and hence to the Chesapeake Bay, and to the Genesee River, which flows into the St. Lawrence. Along these roads I also found a glorious stand of musk mallow, which I photographed, and another flower I didn't recognize, photographed with only middling success, but finally identified as biennial gaura. This was at the confluence of the young Allegheny River and the Dwight Creek. From there, we came into Coudersport via Route 49 and 44.Coudersport is still clearly reeling from the collapse of Adelphia Communications and the various philanthropies that its owners, the Rigas family, supported in their home town. Nevertheless, the city has persevered with a municipal hall in the repurposed Coudersport station, together with an all-wars memorial and a memorial arboretum. Elsewhere in town, the Coudersport Theater, like others on the northern tier, is showing first-run films (the current offering is Transformers 2).
Driving around town, we noted a derelict old Victorian building on Main Street, shoehorned between the Old Hickory Bowling Alley and the minuscule Allegheny River, contained between concrete conduits. The building was most recently the Old Hickory Tavern, where Elliot Ness worked at drinking himself to death upon his retirement, but before that the home of prominent businessman F. W. Knox.
The Italian Villa style house was — and still is — renowned as one of the most magnificent in the County. Knox was particular about building it entirely from materials to be found in Potter County. (Rummaging on The Google, I have learned that F. W. Knox, b. 1824, was an attorney, a burgess, one of the organizers of the Wellsville, Addison, and Galeton Railway, and one of the men involved in the creation of the local Presbyterian congregation. For more details, see http://www.pa-roots.org/data/read.php?681,433019 )We photographed Old Hickory, as well as another magnificent brick mansion recently restored as a bed and breakfast and just across from the mammoth Scottish Rite Consistory, as well as a selection of other historic buildings.
Heading back east, we passed beyond Galeton to the Grand Canyon of Pennsylvania -- the Colton Point Overlook, in fact. After waiting in the car for half an hour for the weather to clear, while numerous other vehicles came and left, we decided to go find lunch. We ate at The Log Cabin (est. 1932), an aggressively homey place whose cinnamon candle odor overwhelmed me when I walked in. Presented with the Sunday dinner menu, we were about to leave, because all we wanted was a sandwich. But when we apologized to the hostess for taking up her time she produced a sandwich menu, including a sausage, pepper and onion sandwich which, she averred, was based on a sausage recipe from her husband's family. How could we resist? So we had the sandwiches, which were delighted despite the cinnamon candle accompaniment, and then went back to Colton Point. The weather cleared somewhat at Colton Point, and also at another overlook further down, and we were able to see the Pine Creek hundreds of feet below, with the hiking biking trail on the old railroad bed beside it. We had biked the trail, some years back. It runs nineteen miles one way, on gravel, and I was pretty tuckered by the time we got back to Blackwell, PA. It was nice, though, to look down on it and say "I've been there."The tourism folk are pleased to call this the Grand Canyon of Pennsylvania, which I think is a mistake. It invites comparison with the painted rocks of the actual Arizona Grand Canyon, all eighteen miles in length and one mile cut through layers and layers of rock by the Colorado River. The gorge cut by the Pine Creek as it descends to join the Susquehanna is nowhere nearly that deep, nor the scenery so spectacular; the tree-covered hills offer a much different view. There is breathtaking beauty, to be sure, but not of the same showstopper kind. It's more subtle, especially when hills and valley are both wreathed by mist as they were during the breaks in the rain.
Returning to Galeton, we walked around the lake, taking pictures as we went. We were especially struck by a scene right out of the 50s -- a group of perhaps eight children, none over the age of twelve, wading and swimming in the lake. A couple of them had dropped their bikes with no fear of them being stolen, and no one seemed to be afraid of the children drowning, neither the children themselves nor the many adults who walked or drove by. Life was much simpler when we allowed children the courtesy of assuming they had a modicum of common sense. We decided to drive back to Germania, or more properly to Germania Station this time, and thence to Cherry Springs park and state forest. We passed two beautiful overlooks -- Cherry Springs Vista and Water Tank Hol. Vista -- whose views rivaled anything we saw on Skyline Drive. At Cherry Springs Vista, we saw abundant tiger swallowtails, fluttering and fluttering and feeding on the lush stand of thistle there. One of the things that struck us was how uncrowded it was in comparison with Skyline Drive or the Blue Ridge Parkway. Perhaps if the weather had been better there would have been more people. As it was, we had the roads, the park, and the overlook to ourselves.
Back in Galeton again, we took a few more pictures of the town, including a quick shot of the library hours and a couple views of the Tannery Pump, plus some shots of interesting buildings here and there. One of the buildings I photographed was The Wonder Bar, which I suspect of being the local dive. We'd passed it a couple of times in our travels so I marked it for a shot. I had to suppress a giggle when I discovered that they had a small plot of vegetables beside it, in a raised bed, decorated lavishly with small American flags and yellow caution tape.As I walked around taking the pictures, I crossed the path of a small group of teenagers with a mixed-breed dog. The kids viewed me with small town teenagers' wariness toward outsiders, but the dog was frantically delighted to have someone new to sniff. So I made much of the dog and explained to the kids that I was still recovering from having to put our dog to sleep. One of them replied that he had had a German Shepherd / Shar Pei mix and it was a great dog. I mentioned that we were visiting and staying over at the Ox Yoke Inn, and one of the boys said, "It's a pretty cool little town." And it is. If you click through the pump picture you'll get to the Wonder Bar and some other interesting places.
We returned to the Ox Yoke Inn, reviewed our photos again, and then went up to the bar for dinner, where we had the smaller cut of prime rib, tossed salad, and garlic mashed potatoes -- oh, yes, and Manhattans. In defense of our room, it must be said that despite the lack of amenities, and despite the damp, consistency of water temperature and pressure were perfect.
There are 77 pictures from July 26, beginning here. All entries from this vacation are tagged "anniversary trip."
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Date: 2009-08-09 04:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-09 02:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-09 10:23 pm (UTC)PS. Dad was a cook in the Army.
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Date: 2009-08-11 01:24 am (UTC)