Thursday, September 10, 2015

Iron City Adventure

Evening, Campers!

Silver Cliche' here again writing to you tonight from yet another US Army Corps of Engineers campground (thank you fellow taxpayers!). If you've been following us on our journeys, you know by now that US Army Corps of Engineers means one thing to us... Water! And tonight's water is the Shenango River Reservoir between Pittsburgh and Erie, PA.

Like many of you, I reached a certain age at the time of the Viet Nam War. Yes... I had a draft card. No... I didn't burn it. No... I can't find it among the souvenirs of that era of my life that have become less and less important over the years. I hope the Federal Government doesn't come knocking and remind me that it was my civic duty and solemn pledge to carry that card on my person for the rest of my life. Anyhow... The prospect of being called for government service at that time generally meant a stint in the Army. Among my contemporaries that was not considered a healthy prospect. College dorm room conversations on the subject included discussion of relocation to Canada, or (as Donald Trump did) reminding the draft board that while your physical deficiencies were not significant enough to degrade your squash game, they certainly would endanger any other soldiers who were forced to be in a combat platoon with your debilitated ass. So, if I had known that time spent in the Army could have included being stationed at places like Shenango River Reservoir (or Lake Lanier, GA or Milford Lake, KS or....) I would have enlisted and supplied my own Airstream! Clearly, the Army needs a better PR team to highlight the recreation opportunities it provides.

So, how did we get here? Well, the morning broke gray and wet back at Bulltown Camp on Burnsville Lake (yep.. more Army fun!). Although we had no internet then, I do now and can report that the historic area adjacent to the campground where we stayed is the site of an 1863 battle... maybe "skirmish" better describes it... or even just "raid". At that time the Union Army controlled central West Virginia and had a makeshift fort of 400 soldiers camped there to guard a bridge crossing the river that the US Army dammed in 1976 to make a place for us to camp. One morning at dawn, the Confederates attacked the fort with 800 soldiers. By evening there were 8 Confederate and no Union soldiers dead and the Rebels had retreated. It was their last attempt at dislodging the Union Army from central West Virginia. Now, at a time in history when Americans can camp in their travel trailers in lakefront spots for a few bucks a night and tour the country on cheap gas while many other parts of the world are topsy turvy, this is a place to remind us of a time when we were a country in turmoil and the price we paid then as a nation to live the way we do now. Thanks to the folks who preserve these memories and places for us.

We made ourselves road-ready and hit the highway by about 9:30. The GPS took us the fastest route. The roads were narrow and a bit rough. The scenery was "Deliverance" gloomy. I was looking at each porch and stump to see if there was a toothless boy with a banjo playing "da dee dum dum dum dum dum dum dum" and waiting for a reply. Fortunately, there was none. We saw another Airstream (a surprisingly rare event) that was parked next to a hay barn and evidently being used as a chicken coup. We averted our gaze and drove on. When we reached I-79 we took the north option and saw signs that said "Wheeling" and eventually "Pittsburgh".

By 11:00 it was raining. No, that's not quite right. It was pouring. We frequently travel with the two large vents (known as "fantastic fans" after the company that makes them) and the two smaller dome vents in the bathroom and shower open. The fantastic fans are sophisticated contraptions that sense temperature and turn themselves on (or off) in response. They also sense rain and close completely. The dome vents are pop up covers over raised pipes. There is so little room around them that they don't need the same sophistication as the fantastic fans. Today, I wish they had that sophistication. When we stopped for gas the bathroom floor and counter were both covered with rain water. No damage done... evaporation took care of the cleanup... but another item for the mental checklist and another "I'll never to that again" moment.

We needed to restock some food items and since leaving Maryland have missed Trader Joe's. They are just moving into Florida, but the nearest one is 90 minutes from home. Guess what they have in Pittsburgh that was a candidate to fill our pantry and scratch our nostalgic itch? Trader Joe's! We set a new course to fill a gap in a rainy day.

At this point I need to tell you about Pittsburgh and about GPS. Pittsburgh is a gritty city. It's a tough city. Its a hilly city. It's an old city... a very old city compared to places we've lived or the routes we usually travel. The roads of Pittsburgh and it's near suburbs like Upper St. Clair and Bethel Park appear to be unchanged from the time Hupmobiles and Stanley Steamers roamed the earth. Now about GPS. If your phone is like mine it has four GPS settings: walking, car, public transit (the bus icon does not mean you're driving a bus... It means you're paying to be in the back of one) and an airplane. It does not have an Airstream mode, or even an 18 wheeler or big-ass vehicle mode. It thinks we are in a Camry or Kia. We are not. My GPS took us on side streets, curvy roads, narrow intersections and all manner of 100 year old pavement that Pittsburgh has to offer. I frequently drive by alternating looks forward to see what's coming and in the wide trailer mirrors to give myself early notice if I'm about to place an insurance claim. This trip took maximum advantage of that skill especially as it related to street signs and mailboxes that may, or may not, have crossed the plane of the white lines on the side of the road. At one point we were headed for a bridge that supported train tracks overhead. The bridge itself was a concrete arch. In other words it was much taller over the center of the roadway than at the two edges. The yellow diamond-shaped sign that was placed 50' before the bridge had a bold, black up and down arrow and the figure 11'0". It was obvious that this bridge had been struck on its outer corners many times by vehicles. Here's today's math quiz question, students: if you are approaching a bridge whose clearance is defined by a half circle which forms it's top, and some Department of Transportation wiz marked it as 11 feet of clearance, and your shiny Airstream is 10' tall, do you assume he measured the 11' at the center of the span (which would account for all of the times the bridge had been struck by vehicles that may have been... oh.... I don't know... maybe 10' tall) or did he measure from the white lines on the side of the road to the points directly above them which means people driving 11'+ vehicles had ignored the sign and slammed right into the bridge? My answer to that question could be provided by another driver who should have chosen a career as a mime because the look on his face said "I can't believe some a-hole pulling an Airstream is driving down the middle of this road!!!!!) After a 20 minute GPS-guided tour of Upper St. Claire and Bethel Park we reached Trader Joe's. We circled the parking lot of the store and the adjacent Chic-fil-a to find a place to stash our rig. At one point I was prepared to put my newfound urban driving confidence to the test by parallel parking the rig in six adjacent parking spaces (hey! I could too do it!) but was attracted instead to a group of spots next to Chic-fil-A's dumpsters. We shopped, refilled our pantry, ate lunch in the trailer with the dogs and hit the trail (over the same roads that we took to reach Trader Joe's unfortunately). By the time we reached the Shenango area the sun had come out and the tips were in the mid 70s.

The campground here is a mix of waterfront and landlocked sites. Half of it is closed for the season and the rest is first-come-first-served. We drove around and picked the site where you see us here:

And here is the view from Mrs. C's side of the table:


It's a site with no hookups. That doesn't mean there's no fraternizing allowed here (I hope). It means no water, no power, no sewer at the site. We picked it because of the lakefront location and the privacy from the other campers. A great thing about a trailer like we have is that we can park it it anyplace and have enough water (fresh and waste capacity), propane and electricity to last for many days. 

The highlight of the evening was the sunset. Today's panorama is from the beach which is in the pic above and is directly behind our campsite (our private stretch of the Shenango River Reservoir for the night...
 
 

Good night. Tomorrow it's on to Buffalo for us to visit friends. I may or may not post blog entries here to "Silver Cliche' on the Road" for the next couple of days since we'll be off the road. Check back in on Monday when we'll be rolling toward Maryland.

Until then...

SC'

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