Navigator’s Log, Earth Date 2009.07.26, Sunday

I will admit it, I was a little bit nervous of our smoking buddy showing back up at our motel step especially after learning there was this prison right up the hill in town.


But that was not the only driving factor in my rising early Sunday. Truthfully I was excited to get out and explore where we stayed in Pottsville and the surrounding geographic area. We weren’t planning to even get home until 10:30 or later which left us with about six hours of solid zig zagging all over we could do. We began the journey in town.

Um, is this steep of a grade even legal? Emergency brakes are working triple overtime in this town.

Since most of PotHead (as we affectionately dubbed this laid back little mountain town) was boarded up or closed on Sunday morning we were on the road early. We started seeing signs for Bushkill Falls (the ‘Niagara of Pennsylvania’ as they call it) about twenty miles before the Delaware Water Gap. We both decided it would be fun and prepared to go after checking out the Gap. Sorry but, um, really? This is the hype?

I guess being in the river is probably much more impressive as there were tons of rafters and whatnot; this was the only and best view of the Gap we came across.

So we headed back up Rt. 209 for the Falls.

Now we have been seeing signs for this attraction for a while now so when we discovered the road was closed within sight of the blinking light we were supposed to turn at to get there, it probably should have been our first clue to skip it. But we don’t listen to first clues. When we got lost on random back road for twenty minutes after the detour it should have been the only other clue we needed. Sometimes with us it takes the harsh lesson of reality to smack us around however. We finally get on track and make it to the location.

We are promptly greeted with tour busses, concessions, outdoor sporting activity areas and a ticket booth. I’m sorry, a ticket booth? You mean I have to pay to see a waterfall? Um, eff that! We chowed down leftover pizza in the parking lot for lunch before promptly turning to leave without seeing the much hyped Bushkill Falls. Neither of us were disappointed because I simply said to Matt “This just isn’t us” and he fully agreed.

Then the grand old Universe said ‘Good for you for sticking to your road trip guns but did you say you wanted to see a waterfall?’; about fifteen minutes up the road we saw a sign for Raymondskill Falls. No one was going up the road. There was only one tiny little brown state park sign for it, no billboards, no glitz. We knew it was perfect and headed up the hill.

Despite the fact that I was not intending to workout there was a good two mile hike up, down, then back up again to see it all. Totally worth it.

When we got to the base to see this view with only 3 other people even in the vicinity, Matt just said “Now this is totally us”.

To complete our day of exploring before the sun went down, we headed off to the Pennsylvania / New York state line to check out the oldest suspension bridge in the country, Roebling’s Delaware Aqueduct. A landmark Matt had wanted to check out for years because it was built by John Augustus Roebling, builder of the Brooklyn Bridge.

This thing was insane. Back when it was first built, where you see concrete ground there was water. It was built as a canal that ships could pass through in order to alleviate traffic at the Delaware and Hudson canal. The bridge is suspended about 30-40 feet above the river and is reported to be 535 feet long.

We got in a lot earlier than we usually do on a road trip, mostly because we both had lots to get caught up on today; namely work. But overall it was a weekend full of car fun that will stick with us for a long time to come.

Navigator’s Log, Earth Date 2009.07.25, Saturday

After not getting back until well after 1:30 AM Friday night and then enjoying a little post-Dave lovin’, we slept in a little late on Saturday. Luckily the only agenda we had was getting to Centralia, PA, a place where the term ‘light a fire under your ass’ should be the town motto for its literal and figurative irony. Well, a motto for what is left of the town anyway.

Just as a little background here is an excerpt from the website offroaders.com that details some of the history behind this little town:

“The story began sometime in 1962 along the outskirts of town when trash was burned in the pit of an abandoned strip mine, which connected to a coal vein running near the surface. The burning trash caught the exposed vein of coal on fire…The coal then began to burn underground…Over 47 years and 40 million dollars later the fire still burns through old coal mines and veins under the town and the surrounding hillsides on several fronts.”

After reading this information our desire to explore the town arose about two years ago, so when the concert date appeared, the day two trip to Centralia was set. (I should probably explain this is the real reason for sketchy motel, the town we stayed in was about halfway between Hershey and Centralia.)

We got to the “center” of town and realized we must have passed the entrance to the closed road somewhere a way’s back. So we doubled back and found the seven foot high dirt berm at the end of the “highway”, located a walking path around it and started out trek up the road.

Here are a couple photos from the road. Walking up it I commented to Matt that I felt like we were in that movie I Am Legend due to the peculiar quiet due to a complete lack of people and the fact that we were walking right down the middle of one lane of a former four lane divided highway; it was one of the most surreal experiences I’ve ever had.

That crack in the road as well as the fall of the sink on the shoulder (about 2-3 feet) is due to the underground fire. Unfortunately the photos didn’t pick it up but there was actually steam rising from the crack.

Once we finished our couple mile round trip hike back to the car with photos and video in hand we headed back to the town center. On the way there we turned left up another gravel street only to come upon some of the largest sinkholes I have ever seen. Vegetation was scarce and the fire was still burning. Here is a shot of me feeling the heat of the steam rising from a “vent”. Imagine a boiling pasta pot. It was also just as humid as your kitchen gets after that pot boils away for about an hour.

Nothing in town looked like the photos online from offroaders. I don’t know when they took theirs but about 80% of what they have up doesn’t even exist anymore. I think it was even weirder to see stairs leading up from a sidewalk only to end at wildflower filled fields than it would have been to see the formerly existing boarded up homes.

Here is a typical shot from town. If you didn’t know any better it would look like nothing more than a country road. Being there, and seeing that every street in the town’s original grid looks the same as this, is eerie.

So we could only spend just so long soaking up toxic levels of carbon monoxide and since we had seen this cool wind farm from the highway on the way in we said “get me there” and took off to find it. On the way, as per usual we stumbled across some amazing scenery.

And in the long standing tradition of our travels, I am the one to snap any shots of us together. I didn’t do too badly this time; usually I tend to scalp him to about mid forehead.

Because we always tend to find just what we are looking for, the Locust Ridge Wind Farm presented itself in grand fashion. Here is a shot of me standing about 300 yards in front of the base of one of them. Matt was about 100 feet away from me in order to get the full height of the spinning turbines. If you want more on this story check out my other blog Green Leaf Reviewer.

We quickly buzzed back down to Hershey after this just to get a few photos I was unable to snap the night before but then after so much walking, excitement and fume inhalation we were both beat. I suggested that when one is in Pennsylvania they should acclimate themselves to the local customs so we grabbed a Pizza Hut stuffed crust pizza and cinnamon sticks and headed back to the hotel to have dinner and crash with some cheezy cable.

After we ate there was a pretty intense thunderstorm that passed by with lots of excellent lightning that we sat out in front of the motel to watch. We must have been wearing our “hi we’re nice, approachable people” signs because a kid sitting in a chair down the way came over to ask Matt if he could bum a smoke.

And then instead of leaving like most people would, he plunked down on the ground right next to me and proceeded to tell us all about his having been fired that morning, the pit bull bite he had gotten Monday that was getting redder by the day and how he was just forced out of his former living situation but that his girlfriend’s mother would not let him move in. I felt for the kid, really, because we’ve all been in tough spots in our lives, but my intuition kicked in as soon as he walked over and I knew he was going to ask for money.

I wished I had some, in fact I wished I had a lot because I would have sent the kid to school to learn something so he could achieve a better life for himself but as it was we carried almost no cash on our trip since pretty much everywhere but the parking lot at the show takes a debit card these days. So when it started to down pour and we were heading back in he asked if we had a dollar, it was not a lie that we didn’t.

About a half hour later there was a knock at the door that (begrudgingly) woke Matt up from his nap and it was (unsurprisingly) our new friend asking to bum a couple more smokes for his walk down and back up the hill the following morning. I later commented that I was happy at least he didn't ask for a ride because that I will not do, not in these crazy times. Matt obliged with cigarettes and we then shut out the outside world altogether until the following day.

Navigator’s Log, Earth Date 2009.07.24, Friday

At 0730 we officially dragged our under caffeinated asses down to the local Dunkin Donuts to begin a fun filled weekend road trip, something we have not done in far too long. With coffee in hand, BBQ from the night before and the loaf of applesauce bread safely packed in the cooler, and tickets to the concert firmly affixed to my other hand, we were on the road and heading south west for our motel in Pottsville, PA.

Ginger will especially appreciate this; I had been running around making up my own “I can’t wait” song for the three or so days before Friday. I frequently burst out into song or dance, yes it’s true, and I find it perfectly acceptable, everyone should try it. Anyway. We get in the car and hit the road. I pull out my iPod and hit shuffle songs. The first song to play?


Fate, destiny? I don’t know but I will say a whole lot of Dave played on the seven hour ride so I think Oreo just knows.

The road is always a fun place for Matt & I, we love road tripping so much that at one point we even considered becoming a trucker team. No, I am actually not kidding. We are both gypsy souls and love to travel so it sounded great. The part where you sometimes have to shower at strange gas stations was what really stopped us in the end.

We got to the hotel in about eight hours (not bad considering morning rush hour in Boston). My first reaction to the room was “Huh. I think I’ll take pictures of this just in case the cops ever call to collect evidence for the probable homicide which occurred here. Yeah.

But it was a roof, bed and shower not in a rest stop so it would certainly do for two nights. We got ready and headed for Hershey.

It is not exactly a secret that I am a fan of Jason Mraz, I mean, his name is one of the most used labels on this blog, but seeing Dave Matthews Band live is like a spiritual experience. There is something that happens when those guys take the stage that is literally inexplicable. You just have to be there to feel it. And I have never seen him indoors; being in the air under the stars definitely enhances the overall amazing vibe that reverberates through the Universe when he is up there. There were about 30,000 of us who were sharing in the love that night and it was spectacular. This is a shot of the crowd just after Jason finished his set.

Some notable stuff from the show:

☺ We were not front row after all, AA - EE were in front of us and we were actually about a football field’s worth away from the stage in section 25. The place was immense!

☺ Dave emceed his own opening act and came out to introduce Jason. Very cool.

☺ Jason rocked an electric guitar during his “I’m now writing jingles for porn movies” 1970’s-esque instrumental intro. It was groovy.

☺ Billy was there walking through the crowd and I could swear he was with Jon Marro from Blend Apparel. I wanted to chat with Jon because I’ve interviewed this guy for Green Leaf Reviewer but by the time I realized it they were heading into the VIP area and I never would have caught up. (So, Hi Jon if that was you!)

☺ The smell of cow poo hanging in the air was so bad Dave said at one point ‘I thought I smelled chocolate for a second, but no, it was just cow shit’.

☺ Apparently “Satellite” is out of retirement (YA-FREAKING-HOO!), they did many new songs (at least 6 I think), he also pulled out “#41” which they turned into a total jam session and played for, what felt like 41 minutes (one of my top 5 so that rocked), and they closed the show with “All Along the Watchtower” which they do an amazing rendition of (and he turned it into a Hendrix/Dylan slash Zeppelin “Stairway” montage which was freaking amazing). I frequently say there are some bands that should not be touched for covers due to the sacrilege of the situation. I think that rule falls away when one of them covers another and pulls it off like it’s their own.

Luckily all the threatening looking storms passed us by and although we saw a couple very cool lightning strikes early in the night under sprinkly skies, the rain let up and we got to enjoy about a half hour of setting sun, stars and a very cool sliver of the moon.

☺ We heard Don McLean’s “American Pie” on the radio on the way out of the parking lot. I know that sounds kind of odd but how often do you hear the entire song on the radio? Plus, Matt & I are two of the only people I know who can sing every single word to that song, not just the chorus. And we did. It took us about an hour to get out of the lot and another hour to get back but DMB played for about three so how could we ever complain?

Day one, done and perfect.

Tomorrow’s Road Trip Earth Log will include details on all things Saturday -- the underground burning city of Centralia and a little on the wind farm we happen-stanced upon (over at Green Leaf I’ll be posting an extensive article on the Locust Ridge Wind Farm project [read: I am so writing off the mileage from this trip] if you’re interested come on over and check it out.)

Makes Me Wanna, Makes Me Wanna

The oil change is complete, cabin filter and all other filters in perfect shape. Tires and all subsequent fluids under the hood have been filled. I am about to go make a big honkin loaf of applesauce bread for breakfast tomorrow. Tickets are in my purse and laundry is in the dryer. My camera, video camera and hotel reservation are safely tucked in a bag pocket.

I wanted to start packing clothes three days ago. And I would have if it wasn’t for having to do laundry today. Well that and Matt talking me out of it by chuckling and shaking his head at me. What? I asked. What is wrong with that?

We are off to Pennsylvania, more specifically the cocoa flavored part of the state, for the pinnacle of all experiences. Well at least for me. At least in the past sixteen or so years since purchasing Remember Two Things and immediately realizing there would be a musical revolution of love through the revival of brass instruments in lyrically pertinent pop. Then less than a decade later, a similar wave of auditory joy washed over my little ears when I heard the laid back and chill folk/bluegrass/pop/rap stylings on Waiting for My Rocket to Come. Now seven years later some amazing force of awesomeness has brought these two acts together.

Jason Mraz is opening for Dave Matthews Band in the land of chocolate Friday July 24, 2009 and we are road trippin’ all the way to the front row, stage left, out in the open air, under the stars.

I. Can’t. Wait.

I do not think I could conceive of two more suited bands to share a stage and audience. Seriously, my life will be complete at the end of this weekend.

And that is just Friday.

On Saturday we are planning to take a detour through Centralia, PA which we have both wanted to see for a very long time. The coal in the mines under the town caught fire some thirty years ago and it has been burning ever since. Based on scientific hoopla it is slated to burn for another 100 or more years. There is no way to put the fire out from the surface and the entire town has been abandoned due to the toxic levels of carbon monoxide released from the fire.

I am looking forward to putting my hand on the surface of the road to see why they don’t let cars park there, allegedly it is over 100 degrees and tires would melt if left too long. Freaky.

Too bad there is that certain health risk or this would be like the perfect place for me to live. I would get to watch the pretty snowfall in winter but see it melt before it ever hits the ground. Nice. It will be interesting to see what a modern ghost town looks like. The last resident of the town was just forced to evacuate due to the rising inhalation concerns.

Who knows what we might see on Sunday. Man I love road trip!

It has been ages since we have gone on one. In fact it is likely the last minute, random trip to Quebec for two hours was the last one. That was in February. Totally unacceptable!

I can’t even form an appropriate run on sentence, my excitement level is just too high.

Something tells me we might hear both of these songs tomorrow night.





They’re gonna need a spatula to scrape up my heart when it explodes with joy all over that stadium. Have a great weekend everyone!

Leave the Money on the Nightstand Saint Mary

I have never truly felt comfortable in hotel rooms; I have seen those Dateline undercover features about fluids on the bed or hidden cameras just one too many times. It does not really help that I am a huge fan of CSI and if it was financially practical I would walk around everywhere with that awesome kit they get. You know, the one with the tiny spray bottle filled with a mystery liquid that they use to spritz the Q-tip they just dragged through some gooey looking gross spot on the floor to test to see if it is blood? Yeah, well if I had one of those suckers there is no way I would ever stay in a hotel again. So instead I search for the items that I have found in hotel rooms in the past.

One time a whole bunch of years ago I stayed in a moderately upscale hotel but in my usual fashion I essentially ransacked the place before settling in. I pulled out the picture that always hangs above the bed just to make sure there was no camera behind it. I placed my thumbnail on all the mirrors looking for the space between the nail and reflection to make sure it was not a two way. Drawers were pulled out and if there was an under the bed it too was checked. When I got to the night table there was the usual Bible in the drawer so I moved it aside and just behind it there was a half smoked joint.

This made me chuckle. The irony of a joint hanging out next to a Bible was classic; I wish I had taken a picture of it. I am not a hugely religious person but regardless there seemed to be something inherently wrong with the situation. Looking back now I feel as if I had committed some kind of drug abuse by tossing it in the toilet but at the time I was not yet imbibing that particular substance. Of course even if I had been a smoker there was no way I would have since I had no idea of its origin and taking that kind of chance is too scary. After the rummage and flush, I put the Bible back in the drawer without reading it and thought nothing more about it.

Some time later I was in another hotel for who knows what and the above paranoid delusions that someone might actually want to video tape my boring ass doing absolutely nothing all night kicked in immediately so I performed my usual tossing of the room as if I was the Warden. By this point in my life I was definitely a pot smoker and would have happily allowed Saint Mary to help me see past the unidentifiable stains on the comforter so once again I pulled the Bible out of the drawer, this time with bated breath.

There was no grass in the drawer but the way I had gripped the book by the spine allowed the pages to fall open somewhat and out of the corner of my eye I glimpsed something floating toward the sticky carpet. Before turning to see what it was I prayed to that good book in my hand that it was not a joint because the five second rule definitely did not apply in this room. My head came around and right there between the two double beds, almost blending into the matted green carpet was a well worn ten dollar bill. At this point I was not sure which find had shocked me more -- the pot next to a Bible or the tribute inside one.

For years I liked to imagine that it was the same person in both locations, someone I was just a step behind catching up to. That person would most definitely be someone I would want to sit down and talk with. I would ask them if they used that ten as a book mark and what the pictures in their mind looked like after smoking and reading such an interesting book.

Of course, I imagine the Gideons were attempting to prevent these very types of actions when placing their reading material in all those drawers but that did not stop me from spending the ten on some pot.