Geocaching: A worldwide scavenger hunt

Photo by Sean Sauro / Here I am climbing a tree to get a geocache hanging on a branch.

*This blog post first appeared as a story in the Altoona Mirror's December 2016 edition of "Blair Living."

By Brian Yermal Jr. 
For Blair Living

More than a decade ago, Sue Burket learned about something known as “geocaching” while attending a Girl Scouts leader training weekend.

She thought it sounded fun, so Burket decided to try geocaching for herself. On Sept. 11, 2004, Burket found her first geocache at the site where the statue of former Penn State head football coach Joe Paterno once stood at Beaver Stadium in University Park.

Since then, Burket has located about 5,000 geocaches.

Since its start in 2000, geocaching has garnered global attention with more than 3 million active users worldwide, according to the official geocaching website. Nearly 830,000 geocachers reside in the United States alone.

Many central Pennsylvanians such as Burket – an Altoona resident who previously lived in State College and Pittsburgh – have embraced the hobby.

Geocaching is an outdoor scavenger hunt where people use coordinates to find hidden “caches.” Caches are containers that store a logbook or a piece of paper that geocachers sign to make their find official. Caches vary in size from magnetic capsules no larger than a fingernail to Tupperware containers and ammunition boxes. Larger caches are used like treasure chests to hide trinkets.

Geocachers are allowed to take items from the cache as long as they replace them with something of equal or greater value. Some caches contain “travel bugs,” which are objects that are meant to be carried from one cache to the next. Travel bugs feature a tracking code on them, which can be entered online to show where the travel bug has been.

Geocaching can be a cheap hobby, depending on how you play it. Players can find geocache locations on the official website at geocaching.com. In order to virtually log finds, players must create an account and a username for the website. Having a basic account is free, but in order to have access to all geocaching locations, players must pay a premium subscription that costs $5.99 a month or $29.99 for the year.

Some players use a GPS to find geocaches, but the official phone app, which can be downloaded for free for Android and Apple devices, can also track your location to find geocaches.

There are more than 2.8 million registered geocaches in about 180 countries, according to the geocaching website, meaning players can find them just about anywhere. Some examples of geocache locations include state game lands, cemeteries, parks, libraries, towns, parking lots and mountains, Burket said.

“There is a nice variety of caches here. There are some caches which test brain power or physical strength, some easy ones and some that lead to surprising spots,” Burket said. “There are some you can find quickly and some you can spend hours to find. ​There are some to find at night, underwater, in tunnels or caves, up trees and just in the ends of guardrails.”

Some locations have high concentrations of geocaches. Huntingdon County is home to more than 100 geocaches in places such as Lincoln Caverns, the Thousand Steps, Raystown Lake, the Raystown Branch of the Juniata River, and downtown Huntingdon, said Matt Price, executive director of the Huntingdon County Visitors Bureau. Price, who geocaches with his son, said geocaching helps bring awareness to attractions in Huntingdon County, and it can be played year-round.

“It’s a great way for people to get out and explore the area,” he said.

Some areas are designated as “geotrails.” The Main Line Canal Greenway GeoTrail has 22 active geocaches and coincides with the 320-mile corridor of the Pittsburgh to Harrisburg Main Line Canal Greenway, said Justin LaVelle, heritage education coordinator with Allegheny Ridge Corp.

The Main Line geotrail was started in December 2010 as a way “to offer a new and unique way for people to experience the greenway,” LaVelle said.

“We have heard some amazing stories from cachers who came specifically to our greenway just for the geotrail and then discovered the bounty of history and recreation it has to offer,” he said.

Some of the most popular caches on the geotrail are located at the Cassandra Railroad Overlook in Cambria County, the Lower Trail, Chimney Rocks Park and the Allegheny Portage Railroad National Historic Site, LaVelle said.

Geocaches can be difficult to find with just one person, so teaming up with other people can help. Burket geocaches alongside her spouse, Terry, and their two dogs, as well as with friends on occasion, she said.

People who are new to geocaching or want to find fellow geocachers can join groups on Facebook such as the Central PA Geocachers and the Johnstown-Altoona Geocaching Association, Burket said. There are also geocaching-related events listed on the geocaching website “where everyone is welcome,” she said.

Saying farewell to my first hiking boots

My Columbia hiking boots have withstood the tests of time, mud, snow, rain and many more.

I can't remember the exact year, but sometime around middle school, my parents gifted me my first pair of hiking boots, which were made by Columbia. I do recall two things about them:

1) They were size 14, which seemed huge at the time, but I've always had huge, Sasquatchesque feet.
2) I don't know why my parents bought me hiking boots in the first place.

Contradictory to this blog, I seldom went hiking when I was younger. I sometimes walked the Shades of Death Trail with my parents at Hickory Run State Park in northeastern Pennsylvania, but that was the most trekking I engaged in at the time.

I figured I would use these hiking boots to keep my feet dry when it rained because they were waterproof. Other than that, I expected them to last until the end of high school, and then they would be buried at the bottom of a trash heap in a dump somewhere.

I'm guessing I was about 14 years old at the time.

I'm 26 now, and I just decided to retire my first hiking boots no more than a month ago.

I have yet to get rid of them, and to be honest, I don't know if I can -- they've become part of my soul (or sole, if you appreciate crappy puns).

I can't comprehend how I've managed to own the same pair of boots for more than a decade. I need to buy new sneakers every year because the old ones wear out to the point that they are painful for my feet. Yet I stare at my Columbia boots and ask, "How the hell did you last for 12 years?"

Part of the reason might be because I was less active the first few years I owned them. I wore the boots for walking in tougher conditions like rain, mud, snow and ice. Other than that, they didn't receive much exposure to trails or mountain climbing.

Around the time I was in college, however, one trip started my passion for the outdoors.

One of my first experiences with hiking was at Mount Nittany near State College. I was out of shape and in no condition to walk up the high slope to the top, but I made the trek and was rewarded with one of my first panoramic views from the top of a mountain. Mount Nittany is an ant hill in comparison to Everest or St. Helens, but from the one overlook, Penn State's Beaver Stadium -- the second largest stadium in the country -- looked more like a decoration under a Christmas tree.

I spent three hours walking the trails of Mount Nittany that day, visiting about a half dozen overlooks in a giant loop that provided views from every side of the mountain. Along the way, rocks, water, mud and tree branches on the footpaths made an otherwise simple walk a bit frustrating, but I was wearing my Columbia hiking boots and put them to their true first test. They excelled with flying colors.

The Mike Lynch Overlook on Mount Nittany provides a stellar view of Penn State's Bryce Jordan Center (left with the white roof) and Beaver Stadium (right).

I had completed smaller hikes before Mount Nittany, but this trip made me want to see more of nature. Since then, I've dedicated some of the little free time I have to explore Pennsylvania, and my hiking boots have been my most important asset.

I can't remember every single place I've used my Columbia boots, but I searched through the hard drive where I keep all the photos I take, and a few locations stood out.

This summer, I wore them as I walked with a group of friends on a portion of the Abandoned Pennsylvania Turnpike, a 13-mile stretch of the state's superhighway that was discarded after a more traffic-friendly option was paved nearby. My waterproof boots kept my feet dry as we strolled through one of the damp tunnels of the old roadway.

A few years ago, I rode my bike on the 6 to 10 Trail that follows the path of the former Allegheny Portage Railroad, which was part of the Pennsylvania Main Line Canal -- a waterway that acted as one of the first routes connecting Philadelphia and Pittsburgh in the 1830s. The railroad used flatbed cars to carry the canal's boats over the mountain from Hollidaysburg to Johnstown.

Today, only a portion of the trail is open to bikes; trail-goers must hike the rest of it. Because of this, I wore my hiking boots while on my bike to prepare for the walk up the stony hillside to the Allegheny Portage Railroad National Historic Site. The boots helped keep my grip on parts of the trail where it was close to the ridge.

This is Incline 6 of the former railroad, which leads to the Allegheny Portage Railroad National Historic Site. The white building at the top is Engine House 6, which used a pulley system to bring the rail cars uphill.

My hiking boots came in handy the time I decided to hike some of the trails at Blue Knob State Park in Bedford County with my co-workers Russ and Ryan. Even though we went near the start of springtime, the upper portions of the park still had snow on the ground. We trekked through dirt, mud and snow the entire time, and if it weren't for my hiking boots, I would've tripped and busted something. We reached the top of Blue Knob, which is the second-highest point in Pennsylvania with an elevation of 3,146 feet above sea level. We could see rolling hills for miles.

During a late-winter day when I was off work and had nothing else to do, I traveled to Franklin County to see the monument dedicated to the only United States president from Pennsylvania: James Buchanan. The pyramid-shaped memorial sits in a desolate patch of forest surrounded by mountains in Buchanan's Birthplace State Park. The park features just a few benches, pavilions, a creek, restrooms and one paved road in and out. Ice and frozen, stiff snow covered the land surrounding the monument, so I'm glad I wore my boots for the trip.

All hail Pennsylvania's one and only pharaoh!

One of the state parks that I visit often is Canoe Creek State Park, which is only about 15 minutes away from my apartment. Canoe Creek is a wonderful place to go when I get bored of walking around town and want to make a quick trip to the woods. I've hiked in the park during every season and know the trails better than the streets of Hollidaysburg. I've put a decent amount of mileage on my hiking boots in this park.

My favorite trails in Canoe Creek State Park pass by the old Blair Limestone Co. kilns.

Although it's not a strenuous hike, the trail leading up to the Council Cup Scenic Overlook near Wapwallopen remains one of my favorites from my childhood and teen years. The overlook is a short drive from my birthplace in Mountain Top. Hikers get a glimpse of the Susquehanna River Valley and the Susquehanna Steam Electric Station, known to most as the "Berwick power plant." I admit my memory is a bit foggy about whether or not I've worn my hiking boots while hiking here, but I can't imagine I used anything else. In fact, the overlook is likely one of the first places where I put the boots to their intended purpose.

Hiking boots provide the extra traction necessary to not fall and break anything. One place where they're useful is Ricketts Glen State Park, where trails take you to the locations of numerous and mesmerizing waterfalls. Because the area is almost guaranteed to be damp any time of year, it poses a safety risk to the people walking around. My boots kept me safe as I navigated the muddy, slick and narrow paths to take pictures of the waterfalls during autumn in 2015. They also kept me from sliding off mossy and wet rocks when I walked around parts of the creek bed to get better shots.

I've taken many steps while wearing my hiking boots -- including the Thousand Steps in Huntingdon County. The stone staircase makes up a portion of the Standing Stone Trail, an 84-mile long Pennsylvania footpath. I hoped to hike the entire trail with my Columbia hiking boots, but that is a goal I'll have to achieve with a different pair.

Because hiking boots tend to be tougher than normal shoes, I've used them for other tasks besides walking in the woods. During the blizzard of January 2015, they helped me wade through more than a foot of snow as I sought to uncover my car from the thick blanket of frozen precipitation covering it.

My Columbia boots also assisted me with a good cause when I helped the Little Juniata River Association clear portions of the waterway of garbage and debris earlier this year.

I've talked about many memories I've had with my hiking boots, and I'm sure there are hundreds more that I haven't mentioned, but one sticks out in my mind more than the rest.

In September 2015, I got a text from my brother while I was at work. Cody doesn't message me often, so his text came as a surprise. It was one I hoped to never receive.

He said our mother had been hospitalized that morning with a severe ailment. I had no idea at the time of that text that she would be stuck in medial facilities for almost three months with an issue that put more emotional stress on our family than anything it had experienced before.

It took a few weeks until I got to visit my mom for the first time since she had been admitted. When I saw here, she looked near death and in no way resembled the same person I'd known for 25 years. I did my best to hold back tears and grief, but it was the most devastating moment I've experienced to this day.

I had that week off work because our family had planned to take a vacation then, but it never happened. Instead, I stayed at my parents' house by myself most of the week while Dad and Cody worked during the days. Whenever I return to Mountain Top, I'm accustomed to having Mom around to talk to, but she wasn't there and wouldn't be for a while. Being in that house without her almost felt wrong, like I had walked into a stranger's home by accident and said, "I think I'm supposed to be here."

At one point during the week, Dad wanted to do something together to ease the psychological turmoil taking its toll on us. He suggested a place I never thought to go -- the Delaware Water Gap, which is home to a portion of the famed Appalachian Trail.

Dad and I are both fans of Bill Bryson, the author who wrote "A Walk in the Woods" which detailed his hike on the legendary footpath. In the past, we had talked about hiking a portion of it together, but conflicting schedules never gave us the opportunity. I think, with Mom being in the hospital, it made us realize that there will come a time when we will no longer be able to accomplish something like this together.

Dad and I made the hour-and-a-half drive to the Delaware Water Gap, where we found a place to park near the trail. We started on a section for about 10 minutes before we realized it wasn't part of the Appalachian Trail. We laughed off our rookie mistake and proceeded to find the actual footpath.

We found a road that led to an actual trailhead and began our hike. Along the way, we traversed a creek, walked through groves of trees with golden- and flame-colored leaves and reached scenic overlooks of the Delaware River and the hillsides that hug it. We hiked a minuscule portion of the nearly 2,200-mile trail and made our way back to the car. Our entire hike was no longer than about three hours, but it would be the cheeriest moment of an otherwise dismal week.

I'm not sure if Dad felt the same way, but that small hike was one of the closest moments I've had with him. Much like hiking, the journey of life is much easier when you have someone with you to provide support when you need it most.

Time passed, and Mom's health came back around. The hospital released her about a week before Christmas. It's one of those stories that you think only happens in a "Hallmark" movie.

To bring this back full circle, that trip with my dad was the first time I hiked any portion of the Appalachian Trail. It was also the last major accomplishment for my hiking boots.

The Columbia boots had a fantastic run. I don't own any other piece of apparel that's lasted nearly as long, especially shoes. I wear out my walking shoes so quick that they need to be replaced every 10-12 months.

These boots have been a part of almost every major outdoor adventure I've taken, but to my misfortune, they're starting to reflect their age.

The insides of the boots have deteriorated.

The loops that hold the shoe laces in place have started to break one by one, making it extra difficult to lace the boots properly.

The bottoms of the boots are worn to the point where they no longer provide traction. They also have holes in them, which allow water and mud to enter the boots, making my feet damp. Small pebbles and twigs get caught in the boots, as well. The lack of support hurts my feet when I'm walking over large stones.

The boots can no longer serve their purpose: keeping my feet comfortable and safe no matter what conditions I face. I've known this fact for about two years but could not find a suitable pair to replace them. I kept telling myself I could get a few more weeks out of them. I did, and I'm forever grateful for the service these boots have provided me.

Not too long ago, I purchased my replacement pair made by Merrell. I wanted more than anything to get another pair of Columbia boots because the ones I owned served me so well, but the company's selection of hiking boots has diminished, and finding a size-15 boot is a challenge to begin with. Merrell has a formidable selection of boots in comparison.

It took me 12 years, but I now own my second pair of hiking boots.

The new boots are comfortable and sturdy, but it almost feels odd wearing them because of the attachment I have with my Columbia boots. It's like I'm cheating on my spouse of nearly a decade; the irony is I've had a longer relationship with my Columbia boots than my current and former girlfriends combined.

I've worn the Merrell boots on a few trips so far, and they seem to be holding up. I'm hoping they will be a suitable replacement for my old pair, but (terrible pun warning) they have big shoes to fill.

I still have the Columbia boots sitting in my closet. I haven't decided how to dispose of them yet. I know the time will come when they will take up much-needed space, and they will need to go. The question is how do I do it?

It would seem sacrilegious to throw them in a trash can where they will rot in a dump. That's not how you treat something that has so much value to you. I've thought about having some sort of ceremony where I burn them like you would an old flag, but I'm not sure I want the neighbors to think I've gone mental because I lit my shoes on fire in the backyard.

For now, I will hold onto them until I can find the proper way to put them to rest. They deserve a proper burial for the years of memories they've given me in return.

Pennsylvania's Lake Erie lighthouses

The Presque Isle Lighthouse is one of three lighthouses along Lake Erie in Pennsylvania.

Maritime history has been a longtime interest of mine. As I mentioned in the Presque Isle State Park post, I've been going to the beach every year since I was 6 months old. Whether or not my parents intended it, they helped establish my appreciation of everything nautical.

A significant part of maritime history, at least for me, was the construction of lighthouses along United States coastlines. We take for granted today the service these towers provided for hundreds of years, but they assisted mariners during the best and worst weather and sea conditions, resulting in thousands of lives spared.

GPS, radar and other technological advancements have made boating and shipping safer than ever, but before this technology, boaters depended on maps, celestial coordinates and personal knowledge for navigation. During a storm, however, if the sky above you and the water below you were pitch black, these conditions were going to hinder your ability to rely only on stars and a sense of direction.

Lighthouses became a vital tool during such instances. A flash of light was enough to give mariners an idea of where land was located, in which case they could, no pun intended, "head toward the light" for safety.

Lighthouses also served an important role in nautical geography. Before large coastal towns like Ocean City or Cape May popped up, coastlines looked almost identical, whether you were off the coast of North Carolina or Delaware. When lighthouses were constructed along the coast, they were designed so that they stood out from neighboring towers. Some of the differences included shapes, heights and paint. For example, this is notable in the Outer Banks of North Carolina, where the Currituck Lighthouse was built with reddish-brown bricks; the Bodie Island Lighthouse, which is about as tall as Currituck, was painted with black and white horizontal stripes; and the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse is the tallest tower with its iconic candy cane-style black and white stripes.

The Currituck Lighthouse

The Bodie Island Lighthouse

The Cape Hatteras Lighthouse

Lighthouses and U.S. maritime history aren't restricted to just the Atlantic and Pacific coastlines. The Great Lakes also have stories and folklore about ships, fish, "lake monsters" and war.

Because of their size, Erie, Huron, Superior, Ontario and Michigan resemble seas rather than lakes. Shipping and fishing were such integral industries on the Great Lakes that, over the years, the federal government authorized funding for several lighthouses to protect the mariners traversing those waters. Many of these towers have come and gone, but there are still about 130 remaining on the Great Lakes, according to Michigan's tourism website.

Three of these lighthouses still exist in Pennsylvania, and they're so close in proximity that tourists can visit all of them in about an hour.

While Pennsylvania may not have a lot of lighthouses, it does hold the distinction of having one of the first American lighthouses on the Great Lakes.

The Erie Land Lighthouse first shone in 1818, the same year as the Buffalo Main Lighthouse in New York, according to the website lighthousefriends.com.

The Erie Land Lighthouse was originally known as the "Presque Isle Lighthouse" until another lighthouse was built on Presque Isle, resulting in the name change.

Historians battle over which lighthouse was considered "first" since the Erie and Buffalo lights were both funded by Congress at the same time in March 1817, according to lighthousefriends.com. They were also constructed and activated around the same time, but there are no definite records -- at least online -- of which lighthouse is the oldest. It's like identical twins who argue who is older because one came out of the womb three minutes earlier. Regardless, both towers take credit for being the "first" two American lighthouses on the Great Lakes.

You notice I keep saying first "American" lighthouse? That's because the British beat us to the punch.

In 1759, British forces captured Fort Niagara near present-day Youngstown, New York, during the French and Indian War, according to lighthousefriends.com. Nearly two decades after seizing the fort, the British decided to erect a tower with a whale oil lamp on the roof in 1781, making this the first navigational lighthouse on the Great Lakes, the website says.

Coming back to Pennsylvania, the first Erie Land Lighthouse tower stood at only 20 feet tall with a 9-foot-tall lantern, but because it sat on top of a bluff, its focal point was 93 feet, according to lighthousefriends.com. Unfortunately, a study conducted in 1851 found that the lighthouse was settling into the earth below it. As an attempted fix, metal bands were placed around the tower to stabilize it, but that proved to be insufficient.

The first Erie Land Lighthouse was torn down. In 1858, a 56-foot-high brick tower was constructed in its place, according to lighthousefriends.com.

You know how you're told all your life to learn from your mistakes? The people who built the second lighthouse must have ignored that lesson. The new tower experienced the same settling issue that the first one did. In addition, it also had cracks in it due to frost. This happened fewer than 10 years after its construction. These issues forced the second lighthouse to be demolished in 1866.

But hey, third time's a charm, right? Just to make sure, surveyors conducted a study of the earth where the first two lighthouses stood. Their report found that a layer of quicksand under the foundations was attempting to swallow the towers. With this knowledge, the builders moved the site of the third lighthouse further back from the edge of the bluff. They also made the foundation twice the size of the previous one so it could better distribute the tower's weight, according to lighthousefriends.com. The third (and final) 49-foot-tall sandstone lighthouse went into operation in 1867.

This is the tower that still stands in a small neighborhood in the City of Erie today, though the current Erie Land Lighthouse has spent most of its time extinguished. The first time the current tower went dark was shortly after the construction of the Presque Isle Lighthouse on the peninsula in 1873. The Lighthouse Board decided that the Presque Isle Lighthouse made the Erie Land Lighthouse obsolete, and on March 1, 1881, the Erie Land tower and its dwelling were sold at auction for $1,800, according to lighthousefriends.com. Parts of the Erie Land Lighthouse were sent to a storage facility in Buffalo, New York.

The decision to shutter the lighthouse drew criticism from many locals and mariners, who still considered the tower an essential tool for navigation on the lake. Congress heard the people's complaints and agreed to allocate $7,000 on July 7, 1884, to reopen the Erie Land Lighthouse, according to lighthousefriends.com.

It took some work to get the tower back into working condition, however. Parts of it remained in storage in Buffalo, while other pieces were looted or broken. A "custodian" was hired to watch the tower during its renovations because, as the website puts its, the area was "endangered by tramps."

It took some time, but the Erie Land Lighthouse shone once again about a year later. The lighthouse would remain in operation for a few years after this, but on Dec. 26, 1899, its light cast out over the lake for the last time for nearly a century. The area surrounding the Erie Land Lighthouse became a park, which remains today.

Exactly 100 years after it went dark, the lighthouse was lit for a ceremony to display recent renovations to the tower on Dec. 26, 1999, according to lighthousefriends.com. Since then, some additional renovation work has been done, and occasional tours are provided to people who want to climb the tower. Even though Cassidy and I went to visit the Erie Land Lighthouse during our first trip to Lake Erie, we didn't get the chance to go inside the tower. It's on my bucket list, however, if tours are still available the next time I visit.

I alluded to another one of Pennsylvania's lighthouses before when I mentioned how the third Erie Land Lighthouse became obsolete. You may have seen it already, because every time you open my blog, a picture of it serves as the background. It was also featured in the first picture of this post.

The next lighthouse of interest is the Presque Isle Lighthouse, a 68-foot tower situated on the sandy peninsula outside the City of Erie.

The Presque Isle Lighthouse is located near Goddard Beach in Presque Isle State Park.

Construction of the lighthouse began in September 1872 at a cost of about $15,000, according to presqueislelighthouse.org.

Like the Erie Land Lighthouse with its settling issues, the Presque Isle Light experienced some misfortune of its own.

During construction, workers anchored a scow loaded with about 6,000 bricks for the tower just offshore from the building site, according to presqueislelighthouse.org. Not long after, a storm swept through the area, which broke the scow free from its anchor. The scow then tipped, sending the bricks into the water. To this day, people claim to be finding those bricks on the sandy beaches of Presque Isle State Park, according to presqueislelighthouse.org.

In another incident during construction, one person died after a group of workers was crossing Misery Bay during a storm, according to the website. If there's a lesson to be learned from both of these accidents, it's not to be on a boat during a storm on Lake Erie.

Despite these two mishaps, construction of the Presque Isle Lighthouse went at a decent pace, and the tower lit for the first time in July 1873, according to presqueislelighthouse.org. The original tower was shorter than the one pictured above. In 1873, it was only 40 feet tall, but another 17 feet were added in 1896 to help it project light further over the lake, according to presqueislelighthouse.org. On a side note: I know I said the tower is 68 feet tall earlier in the post, which means my math would be off by 11 feet. The 68-foot measurement is from the lighthouse's official website. If my logic is correct, I believe the tower itself might be 57 feet tall, with the lantern room being another 11 feet. I could be wrong, so if that's the case, please feel free to correct me.

Another difference in the lighthouse's modern appearance is the color. The Presque Isle Lighthouse was built with unpainted brick, so it looked reddish-brown. In 1899, the tower was painted white to make it stand out during the day, according to presqueislelighthouse.org. The lighthouse is surrounded by a grove of trees, which would have made it harder to see from the water with its original color scheme. Even on the beach, the trees keep the lighthouse out of sight until you're within about a hundred yards of it. The white paint certainly added to the tower's visibility.

This is what the Presque Isle Lighthouse looks like from the water. Some of the surrounding trees almost dwarf the tower, though the white paint helps the lighthouse stick out.

The workers for the Presque Isle Lighthouse built it to last. The tower is at least five bricks thick in most parts and possibly wider in others, according to presqueislelighthouse.org. Despite being rectangular on the outside, the lighthouse's interior is cylindrical with a spiral staircase. And unlike taller lighthouses such as the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse with its 257 steps, the Presque Isle Light has only 78.

The dwelling next to the lighthouse has nine rooms and served as the living quarters for the lighthouse keeper and his family. Today, the Presque Isle Lighthouse organization maintains the tower and the house. The group also offers tours of the lighthouse Thursdays through Mondays between Memorial Day and Labor Day. If you want more information about tour times and costs, you can visit the organization's page here: http://presqueislelighthouse.org/

Touring the lighthouse is another item on my Lake Erie bucket list. The first time Cassidy and I went, the lighthouse wasn't open to the public yet. The second time we visited Presque Isle, we didn't know the lighthouse switched ownership. I can assure you that I will climb that lighthouse the next time I visit.

There's one more lighthouse to discuss, but I will be brief with describing it because I have pictures of it that are much better than anything I can write. The third and smallest of Pennsylvania's Lake Erie lighthouses is the Presque Isle North Pierhead Light.

The Presque Isle North Pierhead Lighthouse is not far from the Presque Isle Lighthouse.

The North Pierhead Light's history is a bit murky because there were other lights and towers used around the area it stands today; however, lighthousefriends.com indicates the current tower went into commission about 1857. The Presque Isle Lighthouse's official website says the original North Pierhead Lighthouse was built in 1830. It also says the current lighthouse was built in 1867, which contradicts the 1857 date on lighthousefriends.com.

The Presque Isle Lighthouse website lists the North Pierhead Light's height at 34 feet, but lighthousefriends.com has 26.5 feet. Do you sense my frustration? Both websites confirm that the tower was moved at least three times in 1882, 1891 and 1940, which could explain why the lighthouse was built so small -- it was mobile in case it needed to be relocated.

If you look at old photos of the lighthouse, you'll notice it resembled a fire tower. The black and white steel plates seen today were added in 1940.

The North Pierhead Lighthouse sits at the end of North Pier, which serves as a popular fishing spot. The lighthouse also marks the entrance to Presque Isle and Misery bays.

The North Pierhead Lighthouse doesn't look like much because of its size -- it's the smallest lighthouse I've seen in person, but the nice aspect about it is its accessibility. The North Pierhead Lighthouse isn't open for climbing, but anyone can walk up to it and hang around.

During my trip to Presque Isle State Park in 2015, I took a Sunday morning to fish at the end of North Pier next to the lighthouse. Other than one other person who came to shoot photos for a project, I sat by myself with a fishing pole and my camera. Since I'm a crappy fisherman and I wasn't catching squat, I decided to take photos instead. Because of the North Pierhead Light's location, it provides some of the most scenic and enticing sunrise views in Pennsylvania. Here's evidence of that:

 

For once, I'm glad no fish were biting.

That's the tour of Pennsylvania's Lake Erie lighthouses. I encourage anyone who loves lighthouses or nautical history to take a trip to Lake Erie and Presque Isle State Park at some point. If you do a lighthouse tour, it won't take long. All three lighthouses are within driving distance of one another. The Presque Isle and North Pierhead lighthouses are located on Presque Isle and are accessible by vehicle, with the exception of some walking. The Erie Land Lighthouse is located in a children's park in the City of Erie. The map below shows all three locations:

You should also consider reading my post about Presque Isle State Park and Lake Erie if you want to learn more about what you can do while in Erie. In addition to lighthouses, the Lake Erie region also has sand beaches, wineries, shops, museums, a zoo and more. You can read more about it here: http://bit.ly/2b9GoIn.

Note: These organizations and their websites provided me with much of the information for this blog post. I thank them for making my research and life much easier:

• Lighthouse Friends: http://lighthousefriends.com/
• The Presque Isle Lighthouse organization: http://presqueislelighthouse.org/

Presque Isle State Park and Lake Erie

Presque Isle State Park in Erie features several beaches open for swimming.

A significant part of summer for Pennsylvanians is not spending summer in Pennsylvania.

That's not meant to be a dig at my wonderful state. After all, I've dedicated this blog to it and all the amazing attractions it has to offer.

Perhaps the greatest one of all time was a replica of the bike used in "Pee Wee's Big Adventure" on display at the Carnegie Science Center in Pittsburgh.

But many Pennsylvanians seek an escape from the blistering heat, and what better place to do that than the beach?

With the exception of last year, I've gone to the shore with my parents every year since I was 6 months old. Just like my family, thousands of other Pennsylvanians take time each summer to drive several hours to places like Cape May, New Jersey; Rehoboth Beach, Delaware; Ocean City, Maryland; Virginia Beach, Virginia; and the Outer Banks, North Carolina.

We do this because, in Pennsylvania, we don't have much of a choice. Pennsylvania has the misfortune of being a landlocked commonwealth surrounded by several coastal states. In many parts of Pa., there are state parks such as Hickory Run, Canoe Creek and Shawnee with lakes that have small sand beaches on them. These act as a nice retreat on sweltering summer days, but they don't have the same feel as a coastal beach.

When Cassidy and I moved to central Pennsylvania a few years ago, we looked at different places we could visit in the western portion of the state. Looking at a map, I realized I never visited the Erie region before. I love fishing and boating, and Lake Erie seems like one of the best locations to do both of those things in Pa., but my family never made the trip out there because it's about a five-hour drive. In that amount of time, we could go to Rehoboth Beach, which was our preferred vacation destination for the first half of my existence. Mom and Dad didn't feel the need to travel that far for a lake when you could have the entire ocean instead.

As for Cassidy and I, we found out there was a state park in Erie that had swimming beaches on it. We figured if we were to journey that far out, at least we could swim for a bit. It would only take us about 3.5 hours to drive there, as well, so we settled on Lake Erie for a trip.

I say "settled," which makes it sound like the trip was more of an obligation than an adventure, but we never "settle" for Erie anymore: We try to find every damn excuse to get back there.

We had to settle for a sandy beach, bath-warm water and few tourists. It was horrid.

Cassidy and I fell in love with the area the second we arrived, including Presque Isle State Park. The park is a 3,200-acre sandy peninsula that hovers over the City of Erie, according to the Department of Conservation and Natural Resources. Presque Isle, which is French for "almost an island," has about a dozen beaches, ponds, trees and shaded trails, which all seem out of place when you look across the water and see the rows of buildings and roads that make up Erie.

Image courtesy of DCNR / This image shows how close Presque Isle State Park is to the City of Erie, but only one road connects the two areas.

You can't look at that map of Presque Isle State Park and not ask yourself, "Where the hell did that come from?" There are two explanations for its existence -- one is a Native American tale, and the other is a scientific theory.

The former tells the story of how the Great Spirit led the Eriez Indian nation toward the shore of the lake because of its abundant food, fresh water, and health-giving breezes, according to presqueisle.org. One day, the Eriez went into Lake Erie to find where the sun sank into the water, according to DCNR. This action upset the lake spirits, so they conspired against the Eriez by causing a horrible storm. The Great Spirit saw what was happening and wanted to protect the Eriez, so he stretched out his left arm into the lake to save them from the storm, according to DCNR. A large sand bar appeared in the area where his arm rested. This led to the creation of Presque Isle, which served as a barrier to protect the Eriez people from any dangers near the lake.

Then there's the scientific explanation. Presque Isle is a moraine, which is a ridge of sediment left behind by glaciers, according to presqueisle.org. The glacier that created Presque Isle was part of a larger ice sheet over Pennsylvania between 13,000 and 14,000 years ago, the website says. Presque Isle marks where the glacier stopped and melted about 11,000 years ago, leaving clay, sand and gravel in its place.

Whichever theory you believe, both explanations make Presque Isle's creation sound majestic. It's perhaps one of the most unique places in Pennsylvania.

Tourism websites promote Presque Isle State Park as the state's only shoreline. That might seem absurd to many people because it's on a lake. But as I mentioned earlier, Presque Isle has about a dozen beaches on it -- most of them are connected together to form one long, continuous shoreline. Despite the Erie region being associated with its harsh winters, its summers are hot, and the lake's water tends to be warm. I was surprised when I first set foot in the water at Presque Isle and realized that the Atlantic Ocean in Delaware is colder than Lake Erie.

Because of the lake's size, it makes it feel as though you're looking out over the Atlantic from a Delaware or Maryland beach. Even on a clear, sunny day, visitors can't see land over the horizon despite the fact that our amiable, maple syrup- and hockey-loving neighbor Canada sits just on the other side. That's remarkable, eh?

If you squint hard, you might be able to see a Tim Hortons.

If I showed you the above picture without any context, would you have guessed this beach was in Pennsylvania? I'm going to assume you wouldn't, because I've had pictures of Presque Isle as my computer's background at work, and people will ask: "Wow, that's a beautiful picture. Where was that taken?" When they learn it's Lake Erie, they always have a look of surprise on their faces. I think it's because people don't believe Pennsylvania could have a beach, or at least one that resembles a coastal shoreline so much.

You have to realize, however, that even though Lake Erie is one of the smaller Great Lakes, it's still a massive body of water. It's so large that it was used for shipping, and at least one war was fought on it. Lake Erie's water can be so dangerous that Congress felt the need to fund the construction of lighthouses along Pennsylvania's coast with the lake.

That's right: Pennsylvania has a shoreline, and it also has lighthouses -- three of them are on Lake Erie. In fact, one of them is considered one of the first American lighthouses on the Great Lakes: the Erie Land Lighthouse.

The Erie Land Lighthouse as it appears today.

The tower pictured above is the "third" Erie Land Lighthouse. The original lighthouse first shone in 1818 but was later dismantled because it was settling into the ground, according to lighthousefriends.com. Another tower was constructed around 1858 in its place, but that one also began to sink into the earth. The builders of the third lighthouse moved the site further away and made the foundation larger to better distribute the tower's weight, according to lighthousefriends.com. That lighthouse, which went into operation in 1867, still stands today. I guess the builders of the third tower didn't want to "settle" for a mediocre lighthouse?

Even my father didn't approve of that "dad joke."

The Erie Land Lighthouse, as it is today, sits in a children's park in Erie on a bluff overlooking the lake. I think there are tours available on certain occasions, but they seem random, so don't plan on climbing the lighthouse if you make the trip to it. You can still get a few pictures, though.

The other two Pennsylvania Lake Erie lighthouses reside in Presque Isle State Park. The one is coincidentally named the Presque Isle Lighthouse.

Possibly true historical fact: It took the builders seven months to come up with the name for the Presque Isle Lighthouse.

The Presque Isle Lighthouse stands not too far from the water in a grove of trees near Goddard Beach. Unlike the Erie Land Lighthouse, the Presque Isle Light is the original tower that was first lit in July 1873, according to presqueislelighthouse.org. There were some modifications along the way, such as an additional 17 feet added to the tower and the white paint, but other than that, the Presque Isle Lighthouse resembles what it looked like decades ago.

Until about 2014, the lighthouse's property was private, so guests could not climb the tower or visit the neighboring keeper's house. An organization now maintains the property and offers tours to guests Thursday through Monday between Memorial Day and Labor Day weekends.

If you take a tour, you can follow up with a swim, picnic or walk on a nearby beach. This was my favorite spot on Presque Isle, so if you're going to visit the state park, I highly recommend you take a few minutes to stop there.

To see the most current hours and rates for Presque Isle Lighthouse tours, visit the organization's official website here: http://presqueislelighthouse.org/

The third lighthouse in the area is the Presque Isle North Pierhead Lighthouse, which, despite the name, is located on Presque Isle and at the head of North Pier. I don't think the name does it justice.

Try to say "Presque Isle North Pierhead Lighthouse" five times fast.

The smallest of the three Pennsylvania Lake Erie lighthouses, the North Pierhead Light has relocated several times as the pier and area changed. The original tower was built in 1830, according to presqueislelighthouse.org.

The current tower first shone in 1857 or 1867 (depending which website you consult) and resembled a wooden fire tower. The black and white steel plates were added in 1940, according to lighthousefriends.com. The lighthouse marks the entrance to the channel that lets watercraft enter Presque Isle and Misery bays. You can't climb the North Pierhead Lighthouse, but visitors can walk up to it and fish from the pier.

During a trip to Lake Erie in 2015, I took a rod and my camera to the pier at sunrise and tried my hand at fishing. I'm a better amateur photographer than an angler, so I caught more pictures of sunsets than fish that day. You should be thankful I suck at fishing, because otherwise I couldn't share these photos with you:

If you want to learn more about Pennsylvania's Lake Erie lighthouses, you can read my post about them here: http://manifestdestinypa.blogspot.com/2016/08/pennsylvanias-lake-erie-lighthouses.html

So Presque Isle State Park has sand beaches and lighthouses. Does it sound like a trip to the shore yet? If you need more persuasion, you can find stone jetties in the water just like at some New Jersey and Delaware beaches. Depending on the day, many swimmers will also encounter small waves that are enough to simulate a shore setting but not too large where you will end up with ears filled with salt water and a concussion if you're not careful.

Grab your surfboard!

You can also go boating and fishing on the lake. I've seen groups of people anchoring their boats close to shore and jumping into the water for a swim. You'll also notice people fishing from boats, piers or any location near water. I've failed to catch anything at Lake Erie, but I remember being outdone by an older woman who caught a catfish on North Pier.

For just being caught, this fish looks unusually happy.

A typical day of fishing for me: catching nothing.

A fishing boat makes its way past North Pier into Lake Erie.

To top all this off, Presque Isle even has shorebirds including gulls and whatever these things are:

Bald eagles?

I hope you get the idea at this point. The beaches at Presque Isle State Park offer almost all the amenities a Delaware, Maryland, New Jersey or Virginia shore would provide. A few exceptions include a large boardwalk, bundles of shops selling useless crap mass produced in a foreign sweatshop, and overly priced, heart attack-inducing food. Mind you, I love all those things about the beach, as well; however, Presque Isle, in my own opinion, resembles the Cape Hatteras National Seashore in the Outer Banks.

Compare this picture taken in Avon, Outer Banks, North Carolina, to the one at the beginning of this post.

What they both have in common is they're less congested with tourists, and they're also more natural. Boardwalks and shops are tons of fun, but sometimes the best beach escape is when you have a grove of trees or miles of sand dunes behind you. Presque Isle has the occasional snack stand, but for the most part, you go on a beach there for the sake of sticking your feet in the sand and cooling off in the water, not to max out a few credit cards on novelty clothing or to ride a roller coaster constructed with so much neglect that it is unsafer than a Ford Pinto.

I've spent a majority of this post trying to convince you why Presque Isle should be your next beach destination. There are people, though, who dislike beaches. I think these people are monsters because I have a difficult time understanding how anyone can hate a beach, but I'll play devil's advocate.

Presque Isle is a state park, so there is much more to do there than just acquiring a horrible sunburn from lounging in a beach chair all day. I mentioned fishing earlier. Presque Isle hosts a series of ponds, bays and of course, Lake Erie, all which feature various fish including perch, bass, walleye, trout, steelhead, panfish, muskellunge, northern pike, crappies and smelt, according to DCNR. Keep in mind that you need a Pennsylvania fishing license, and in some locations around Lake Erie, a special Lake Erie stamp is required. Check out the Fish & Boat Commission website for more details: http://fishandboat.com/

You can spend days fishing around Presque Isle, and if you're like me, you won't catch anything. If that's the case, you can wallow in self pity while walking, hiking or running on one of many natural trails on Presque Isle. There are 11 miles of natural trails, in addition to the Karl Boyes Multi-purpose National Recreation Trail, which is a 14-mile paved walkway, according to DCNR. Many people use the latter for walking, running and bike riding. Despite my love of walking, I have yet to go on any of the trails at Presque Isle, mostly because I spend the majority of my time on the beaches. I can say from observation, however, that all the trails are well shaded by Presque Isle's numerous trees, and since the peninsula is flat, you need not worry about having to scale large hills or mountains.

If you're not into walking or running or just hate land altogether, you can give boating or paddling a chance. Presque Isle offers ample water space to take a boat out on the lake and enjoy a few hours away from the crowds. The state park also lets people rent canoes, kayaks, small motorboats and pontoon boats at certain locations on the peninsula.

Lake Erie's size allows boaters to drive at high speeds.

Most of these are summer activities, and even though I hate winter, I understand some people embrace the cold. Presque Isle has some wintertime opportunities, including ice fishing, cross-country skiing and ice skating. Lake Erie is the perfect place to do these sports most of the time because of its lake-effect weather.

Maybe you're not into nature, in which case I'm not sure why you're in a state park. But hey, we all do things to break the routine.

There are some places where you can go sightseeing on the peninsula. I mentioned the lighthouses before. The new tours at the Presque Isle lighthouse are a good way to burn time and to learn more about the tower's history and its prominence in Lake Erie's maritime history. Even though you can't climb the North Pierhead Light, its still neat to see in person.

Another interesting site is the Perry Monument, a tall concrete pillar commemorating the accomplishments of Commodore Oliver Hazard Perry and his crew.

The Perry Monument sits near Misery Bay.

Perry is known for winning a key battle against the British on Lake Erie near Sandusky, Ohio, during the War of 1812. A few of his ships were built in Presque Isle Bay, and after returning from his battle, Perry had his ships worked on in Little and Presque Isle bays. During the winters in 1812-14, however, Perry's men experienced harsh weather conditions and an alleged smallpox outbreak, which resulted in several deaths, according to DCNR and presqueisle.org. It's rumored that the bodies were placed in a pond neighboring Little Bay. That pond now carries the alluring name "Graveyard Pond," and Little Bay later became known as "Misery Bay" because of Perry's crew's struggles. And you thought this post was going to be all sunshine and rainbows.

In reality, there's sunshine and rainbows with undertones of death and British aggression.

 If you wander off Presque Isle State Park, you can continue your sightseeing tour in the nearby City of Erie. I mentioned the Erie Land Lighthouse as a tourist stop before, but there's another tower not too far away that's worth looking at. The Bicentennial Tower, which stands over the southside of Presque Isle Bay, is a 187-foot-tall structure built to recognize Erie's 200-year anniversary in 1996, according to Port Erie's website.

The Bicentennial Tower can be seen from across the bay on Presque Isle State Park.

For a small fee, you can take an elevator to an observation deck that not only gives you a glimpse of Presque Isle Bay, but of the City of Erie, as well. It's taller than any of the three lighthouses in the area, so it provides the best aerial view around.

The view of the City of Erie from the top deck of the Bicentennial Tower.

Not far from the Bicentennial Tower is the Flagship Niagara & Maritime Museum, which houses a replica of Commodore Perry's ship of the same name. Cassidy and I wanted to visit the museum but found out it was closed the day we stopped by.

Another educational trip is the Tom Ridge Environmental Center, named after our former governor. The center highlights the environmental aspects of Presque Isle State Park and its importance to many species of animals.

Speaking of animals, you should consider a trip to the Erie Zoo. It's about 15 minutes from Presque Isle State Park, but the zoo houses many of the animals you would see at major zoos in Pittsburgh or Philadelphia. Some of the animals are quite entertaining, including a giraffe that loves licking fences and a river otter that enjoys making faces at guests.

The giraffe did this for about 15 minutes while we were at the zoo.

Maybe the exhibits at the Erie Zoo are made out of sugar glass?

After you spend a day on the beach or sightseeing around town, you can decompress by going shopping at one of the many stores in Erie, or you can grab some food and a beer or two at several restaurants. If your day was more stressful than it should have been, you have the option of choosing from a few microbreweries or wineries around town. Maybe you want to relax but don't like alcohol. A sober and family-friendly option is Waldameer Water World, an amusement park within earshot of Presque Isle State Park.

I'm sure there are more things to do that I forgot to mention, but this should be a good starting point for your Lake Erie trip. I can't imagine anyone visiting and not finding at least one thing that interests them. I've never seen a state park and its surroundings with such a diversity of activities in Pennsylvania -- with the one possible exception being Point State Park. But the City of Erie is only a fraction the size of Pittsburgh, yet it manages to pack so much recreation into such a small area.

I know I explore Pa. "so you don't have to," but I recommend you make the trip to Lake Erie, even if it's only for once in your lifetime. If you're not satisfied, I won't give you your money back because I'm poor as hell, but I will give you the opportunity to say "I told you so." I don't give those out too often, so take it if you get the chance. I'm confident this won't happen, though. The combination of Presque Isle State Park and Lake Erie is perhaps my favorite destination in Pennsylvania. It's at a close tie with Pittsburgh, but even that doesn't have a beach. Go see for yourself and help me settle the tiebreaker.

Note: These organizations and their websites provided me with much of the information for this blog post. I thank them for making my research and life much easier:

• The Pennsylvania Department of Conservation and Natural Resources: http://www.dcnr.state.pa.us/stateparks/findapark/presqueisle/
• The Presque Isle tourism website: http://www.presqueisle.org/
• Lighthouse Friends: http://lighthousefriends.com/
• The Presque Isle Lighthouse organization: http://presqueislelighthouse.org/
• Port Erie Authority:  http://www.porterie.org/