The Abandoned Pennsylvania Turnpike

At the Abandoned Pennsylvania Turnpike, the tolls are free ... and so is the terror.

One aspect of Pennsylvania that fascinates me is the remnants of its old transportation infrastructure. Venture anywhere across the state, and it's almost guaranteed you can find an old railroad that's been converted into a bike trail, or an algae-covered waterway that once served as a canal for shipping goods and people.

During your travels, you might hop onto the Pennsylvania Turnpike to reach your destination. You can't talk about transportation in Pa. without mentioning the Turnpike. It's the most infamous highway in the state. It was also known as "America's Super Highway" when it first opened in fall 1940, according to the Federal Highway Administration.

Despite this, many Pennsylvanians hate using the Turnpike, whether it's because of traffic congestion, never-ending construction or the cost to drive on it. For these reasons, many motorists will avoid the massive roadway, even if that means taking a less-convenient route.

They do have an alternative, however: A section of the Turnpike exists that has no tolls, no traffic or road work. There's only one stipulation -- you have to leave your vehicle behind.

If that doesn't deter you, then you should consider a trip to the Abandoned Pennsylvania Turnpike.

Oddly enough, the Abandoned Pennsylvania Turnpike has fewer potholes than most active roads in the state.

As the name suggests, the Abandoned Pennsylvania Turnpike is a 13-mile section of the original highway in south-central Pa. that was bypassed in 1968, according to the FHA. This portion of road -- east of Breezewood in Bedford County and west of Hustontown in Fulton County -- consists of three tunnels and a former travel plaza, the latter which has been reduced to an empty parking lot. Enough of the historic highway still exists that visitors can walk, run or bike it at their own risk.

"At your own risk" meaning you don't mind trekking into the depths of Hell.

 So why did the state decide to ditch 13 miles of one of its most-used highways? It's because it became too crowded.

The original four-lane, 160-mile-long Pennsylvania Turnpike opened in autumn 1940. It wasn't long before people took notice of how convenient the highway was. The Pennsylvania Turnpike Commission released a report showing that more than 2 million vehicles used the highway just one year after its debut, according to the FHA.

Over the next two decades, it seemed as though the Pennsylvania Turnpike only grew in popularity. By 1960, traffic became such an issue that vehicles were backed up as long as 5 miles from the tunnel entrances, according to the FHA. The issue was that the Turnpike reduced to one lane in each direction in the tunnels, causing the backups. You can tell from my previous photo -- inside the Sideling Tunnel -- just how narrow the tunnels were.

The Turnpike Commission conducted a study to find a way to circumvent the congestion. The recommendation was that the Turnpike expand the Blue, Kittatinny, Tuscarora, and Allegheny Mountain tunnels with new parallel tunnels, according to the FHA. The study also suggested bypassing the Sideling Hill, Rays Hill and Laurel Hill tunnels. The Turnpike Commission went forward with the plan, and with it the now-abandoned portion of the highway came to be.

Nearly five decades of negligence has taken its toll on the Abandoned Pa. Turnpike. Tall weeds and cracked asphalt are a common sight at the former roadway. When you walk through the tunnels, you will find pieces of concrete lying on the ground because the ceilings have begun to fall apart.

Spray-paint "artists" have also used the tunnels' walls as canvases for their work. Some of the paintings are elaborate, but about 75 percent of them are swear words, racial slurs and an uncountable amount of spray-paint genitalia.

Water seeps through openings in the tunnels, making them damp even during the driest of summer days. The rooms where tunnel workers once worked are now windowless and filled with dust and rust. Other than natural lighting at both ends, the tunnels have no working electricity, so anyone traveling through them needs a flashlight or headlamp to prevent falling into a pit.

Make sure to bring water-proof shoes or a kayak if you go through the tunnels.

Just because the old roadway is falling apart doesn't mean it's not usable. Because there has been no traffic on it for almost 50 years, the Abandoned Pennsylvania Turnpike is still in decent condition. Parts of it have chipped away, but for the most part, people can walk and run on it with ease. Bicyclists can ride on the highway, provided they have lighting to see their way through the tunnels. Even when I visited the Abandoned Pennsylvania Turnpike last summer on a 90-degree summer day, there were still people riding the old road.

Nothing says an enjoyable bike ride quite like a scorching-hot, cracked roadway with no shade.

The visitor traffic has attracted enough interest that some folks have started an effort to revitalize the Abandoned Pennsylvania Turnpike for a new purpose.

The "Pike 2 Bike" project is an initiative to turn the former highway into a revitalized public trail. The Pennsylvania Turnpike Commission helped start the effort by selling the Abandoned Pennsylvania Turnpike to the Southern Alleghenies Conservancy for $1 in 2001, according to the Pike 2 Bike project official website. That's not a bad deal considering a bottle of water from a vending machine can cost nearly three times that amount.

(On a side note, you're going to notice that the Pike 2 Bike website says the Turnpike is about 130 years old despite the fact I said it opened in 1940. That's because construction of the "Pennsylvania Turnpike" began back in the 1880s as a railway route, according to the FHA website. The work wasn't completed, even though 4.5 miles of tunnel were dug through seven mountains, according to the website. The "actual" Turnpike we know and love [or hate] today opened in 1940. Anyway, just covering myself here. Now back to your regular programming.)

Since about 2003, the "Friends of the Pike 2 Bike" committee has controlled the effort to convert the Abandoned Pennsylvania Turnpike into a trail, according to its website. About 14 years later, however, the old roadway remains about the same. The main issue seems to be funding. A study showed that the project would cost about $3.5 million, according to the Pike 2 Bike website.

Some of the anticipated repairs for the trail would include stabilizing the tunnels, adding lighting and solving drainage issues. There are other proposed amenities like trail heads, toilets, signage and parking lots, according to the website. The committee is also considering paving one side of the Abandoned Pennsylvania Turnpike and keeping the other side untouched for historical value, according to the website. I'm left to ponder how the committee will handle the abundant graffiti in the tunnels -- whether some of it will be preserved or if it will be eliminated as a whole.

The price tag for the Pike 2 Bike project is a bit high, but I think it is a worthwhile endeavor. As it is, the Abandoned Pennsylvania Turnpike can be dangerous in some areas, especially the tunnels where there is little lighting and plenty of places to trip or even fall. During my trip last summer, my friends and I noticed several narrow, but deep, pits along the walls in the Sideling Tunnel. They're large enough that an unknowing passerby can fall 7 or 8 feet down and suffer serious injury. Falling concrete and potholes also present liabilities. Repairs are going to be necessary to ensure no one leaves the proposed trail in an ambulance.

A revitalized trail could help stimulate local economies, as well. Pennsylvania municipalities such as Pittsburgh and Jim Thorpe have reaped the benefits of being bike friendly. Pittsburgh serves as the western start of the Great Allegheny Passage, a nearly 150-mile rail-trail that starts in the "Iron City" and ends in Cumberland, Maryland.

Point State Park in Pittsburgh serves as the western start to the Great Allegheny Passage.

The GAP is one of the most publicized bike trails in the country, and because of this notoriety, more people are riding it and visiting the towns along its route. Businesses such as hotels, shops and restaurants can only benefit from tired and hungry bike riders looking for a place to rest for a bit.

Jim Thorpe also experiences a similar economic boon because of its proximity to the D&L Trail, which extends from the edge of town to White Haven and now Mountain Top because of a recent trail expansion.

Jim Thorpe has a bike rental shop not far from the D&L Trail. Behind the store is the Molly Maguires Pub & Steakhouse, which I have eaten at several times while riding my bike on the D&L Trail.

 Bicyclists tend to be tourists, as well, so any town near a rail-trail can cash in on an opportunity such as the Abandoned Pennsylvania Turnpike. Breezewood already accommodates motorists on the active Pennsylvania Turnpike with numerous hotels and eateries, so having the abandoned portion of the highway can only mean more tourism money coming in.

One of the last reasons Pike 2 Bike can be beneficial is because it could help preserve a significant part of Pennsylvania's history. If it continues to receive little maintenance, the Abandoned Pennsylvania Turnpike could deteriorate to the extent where it is unusable to bicyclists and walkers/runners. The former highway is a significant part of the state's history. It is a remnant of one of Pa.'s most ambitious transportation projects. The current Turnpike has been altered several times over the years, and the Abandoned Pennsylvania Turnpike is a physical reminder of how the highway has needed to change over the years to meet transportation demands.

The Abandoned Pennsylvania Turnpike might just be an old road, but the novelty of its existence attracts people from across the state and the country. People are fascinated by abandoned locations such as Centralia (the mostly deserted Pennsylvania town with an active mine fire below it). These places create a feeling of uneasiness, but also a sense of curiosity and adventure, too. This atmosphere of wonder has attracted people to the Abandoned Pennsylvania Turnpike for decades now, and it likely will for years to come.

If you're interested in seeing the Abandoned Pennsylvania Turnpike, you can visit the Pike 2 Bike website here to get the most accurate directions. Make sure you have flashlight and possibly a jacket if you go through the tunnels since they are dark, damp and cold, regardless the time of year. Don't forget to bring your sense of wonder, too.

Bird watching

I've come to enjoy living in a town like Hollidaysburg where I'm within walking distance of stores, restaurants and grocery markets. There are times, though, that I miss living at my parents' house in the country, where nature was always at their back door. They've had deer, groundhogs, rabbits, squirrels, turkeys and even bears visit them over the years.

One way to bring more animals to your doorstep is by feeding them, especially in the winter when food is scarce. My parents decided to put a bird feeder on their back porch a few months ago, and since then the house has transformed into a miniature aviary. Some types of birds stopping by include chickadees, titmice, blue jays, cardinals, doves and woodpeckers.

I visited my parents this weekend and noticed all the birds darting back and forth from the trees to the feeder and decided to set up my camera nearby. The birds were skeptical of the camera at first, but once they realized it posed no threat, they went back to eating. Some of the birds I caught on video included chickadees, titmice and an enthusiastic blue jay at the end.

I've loved birds ever since my parents got a cockatiel as a pet. Since then, I'm always keeping my eyes toward the sky to see what birds I can identify. Enjoy the video, and consider buying your own feeder if you want some cheap entertainment.

Going with the flow: Kayaking becoming premier paddlesport for water enthusiasts in central Pa., US

The view from my kayak while I paddled down a canal in Avon, Outer Banks, North Carolina.

*Note: This story first appeared in an earlier edition of the Altoona Mirror's "Blair Living" magazine.

By Brian Yermal Jr.

For Blair Living

During the opening weekend of trout season in central Pennsylvania in mid-April, anglers converged on nearly every accessible part of shoreline surrounding Canoe Lake in Canoe Creek State Park to the point where latecomers had little chance of finding an open spot.

Some fishers, however, used kayaks to escape the crowds and to access more open areas of water.

Some anglers escaped the crowds on the first day of trout last season by fishing from kayaks on Canoe Lake in Canoe Creek State Park. Other fishers stood shoulder-to-shoulder along the shoreline.

Meanwhile, on a Saturday in early May, a group gathered to remove litter from a portion of the Little Juniata River. A few of the volunteers brought kayaks to reach some of the river’s islands that housed trash dumped by people upstream.

Volunteers helped the Little Juniata River Association clean the river by using kayaks and canoes to access islands in the middle of the water. Paddlers cleared the islands of debris, including tires and propane tanks.

Whether they’re fishing, cleaning trash or just floating, more people are picking up paddles and embracing kayaking in central Pennsylvania, according to local experts involved with water sports, tourism and environmental conservation.

Becoming mainstream

Kayaking has floated to the surface as the most popular paddlesport in the United States. In 2014, about 13 million Americans said they participated in kayaking, according to a study from The Outdoor Foundation, a nonprofit group that focuses on outdoor recreation. Kayaking surpassed canoeing, rafting and stand-up paddling in participation numbers in 2011 and has remained on top since 2014, according to the study. Data for 2015 was unavailable.

Kayaking continues to grow as the top paddlesport in the country. You can find kayakers just about anywhere that features water, including cities like Pittsburgh.

Kayaking’s growth as a paddlesport comes down to a few different factors.

One reason is its affordability.

“Kayaks have become pretty inexpensive, and more and more people are using them,” said Bill Anderson, president of the Little Juniata River Association.

Higher-scale kayaks can cost several hundred dollars or more, but basic, single-seat models are available with price tags as low as $200. Likewise, paddles range in cost from as low as $50 to a few hundred dollars.

Basic, single-person kayaks sell for as low as $200 (or lower if there are sales). Tandem kayaks, which have two seats, tend to cost more at about $500 or higher.

Another reason more people are leaning toward kayaks is because they’re easier to transport since they weigh less than some other watercraft, said Tim Yeager, assistant park manager of Prince Gallitzin State Park and interim park manager at Canoe Creek State Park. While people can use a trailer to haul a kayak, they also have the option of placing it in the tailgate of a truck, Yeager said. Many paddlers use roof racks to mount kayaks on top of their vehicles, as well.

Kayaks come in different lengths, but many are short enough that they can be transported on a car's roof or the tailbed of a truck.

Kayaks are rising in popularity among different groups of hobbyists.

At Canoe Creek and Prince Gallitzin state parks, people use the watercraft to observe wildlife, especially birds, Yeager said. Photographers also paddle around in kayaks to take pictures in areas not accessible by land, he said.

More fisherman are choosing kayaks for lake fishing, Yeager said. Anglers are taking advantage of using kayaks for fishing in the Little Juniata River, too, Anderson said.

Fishing while kayaking has also gone up in waterways in Huntingdon County, including Raystown Lake and the Juniata River, said Evan Gross, “energies coordinator” at Rothrock Outfitters.

“We’re certainly seeing an uptick in the fishing market as we do have a lot of places that are great for fishing,” Gross said.

Kayaks can be useful for photography, bird watching and fishing. They also come in handy when you get into a fight with your parents.

Kayaks can be used for less-conventional purposes, as well.

Volunteers for the Little Juniata River Association boarded kayaks, canoes and boats to access islands between the towns of Spruce Creek and Barree during a trash cleanup in May. The group collected more than 15 bags of litter and larger objects including tires and a propane tank.

The ‘rail-trails’ of kayaking

Central Pennsylvania is home to several lakes and rivers – all of which are suitable for kayaking, local experts said.

Many of the lakes are situated in state parks, including Canoe Lake in Blair County, Glendale Lake in Cambria County and Shawnee Lake in Bedford County. These state parks offer kayak rentals for single-person and two-person kayaks, Yeager said.

Kayaking at a lake suits many people because the water lacks a current, Yeager said.

“You’re in a lake, so the water, other than wave action, isn’t moving,” he said.

Paddlers can also engage in several activities in the same day at a state park, including kayaking on the lake, hiking a trail on shore and having a picnic, he said.

Cassidy and I rented kayaks at Shawnee State Park in Bedford County this summer. I've also used rental kayaks at Canoe Creek State Park. Rental prices can vary at each park.

Kayakers looking to paddle in a larger body of water might consider Raystown Lake in Huntingdon County, which is the largest lake located entirely in Pennsylvania with about 8,300 surface acres of water, according to the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers. In comparison to Raystown Lake, Canoe Lake is 155 acres, according to the Department of Conservation and Natural Resources.

Like the lakes at the state parks, Raystown tends to be calm, Gross said.

“The lake is really tempting just because it is relatively flat water,” he said, but Gross warned that kayakers must be cautious of strong wakes produced by motorboats and quick changes in weather.

Beginning kayakers should seek out calm waters like a lake or a slow-moving river. The Allegheny River in Pittsburgh suited Cassidy and I well.

Rothrock Outfitters offers kayak rentals to customers at its two locations – one in Huntingdon Borough and another at Seven Points Marina on Raystown Lake.

Kayakers have options other than lakes for paddling in central Pennsylvania – the most significant one likely being the Juniata River Water Trail.

At 126 miles long, the Juniata River Water Trail includes the Little Juniata River starting in Tyrone, the Frankstown Branch of the Juniata River starting near Canoe Creek State Park, and the main section of the Juniata River, according to the Pennsylvania Fish & Boat Commission. The trail cuts through five counties – Blair, Huntingdon, Mifflin, Juniata and Perry – and empties into the Susquehanna River at Duncannon.

Local kayakers recognize the Juniata River as an optimal waterway for paddling because its flow is calm in most sections.

“For the most part, it’s a pretty simple trip for beginning paddlers,” said Matt Price, executive director of the Huntingdon County Visitors Bureau.
 

The Frankstown Branch of the Juniata River runs along the Lower Trail, which is a popular rail-trail that starts near Canoe Creek State Park in Blair County and ends by Alexandria in Huntingdon County.

Price is also an avid kayaker who is part of a group known as the Juniata River Paddlers. Started in September 2015, the organization hosts river paddles on various sections of the Juniata River on Mondays during Daylight Savings Time. The paddles start at 5 p.m. and typically go about two hours, spanning a distance of about 4 to 4.5 miles, Price said. The group posts the launch site of each week’s paddle on its Facebook page and the website Event Smart.

Price helped start the organization because of his passion for kayaking and nature.

“Part of the reason I started organizing these is because I wanted to get out every week,” he said.

The number of people who attend the kayaking trips varies, Price said. Once in a while, he ends up paddling solo, but on other trips, about 10 or more people might tag along. If the group on a specific paddle consists of more than seven kayakers, it requires each person to pitch in $5 to rent a shuttle to bring them back upriver, Price said. After some trips, the group holds a social hour at a restaurant, bar or ice cream parlor, he said.

Price and the group prefer the Juniata River because it offers variety in scenery and is an easy paddle for kayakers of any level, he said. The river contains certain obstacles such as rapids, aqueducts and dams, but Fish & Boat Commission maps label possible hazards, so kayakers have fair warning.

A portion of the Juniata River Water Trail consists of the Little Juniata River from Tyrone to the confluence of the two rivers. More kayakers are taking interest in the Little Juniata River because, like its larger neighbor, its waters are calm.

“It’s a really tame float,” Anderson of the Little Juniata River Association said. “I would call it an easy river to kayak,” he added.

Volunteers with the Little Juniata River Association prepare to float a boat filled with trash to the other side of the river during a cleanup in May.

The Little Juniata River does pose some complications, however. The river only has a few decent access points for paddlers to launch their kayaks, Anderson said. During the LJRA cleanup, the volunteers launched their watercraft from the parking lot of a local church.

The Little Juniata River’s popularity as a fly fishing and trout destination also creates some friction. Anglers and kayakers sometimes lack proper communication when they’re near one another, which results in paddlers scaring away fish or getting their watercraft caught on fishing lines, Anderson said. The best way to avoid problems is for kayakers to pass behind the fisherman so they do not interfere with the fishing line, he said.

Anderson isn’t discouraging paddlers from kayaking on the Little Juniata, but he said both kayakers and the fishermen have to share the water.

“There needs to be some communication between the boater and the wading fishermen,” Anderson said.

The Juniata River is also part of another water trail.

The Raystown Branch Juniata River Water Trail extends 60 miles from Saxton near Warriors Path State Park to Bedford Borough, according to the Fish & Boat Commission. While maps show that most portions of the Raystown Branch Juniata River Water Trail are relatively calm, there are portions where rapids and fast currents occur, so kayakers are advised to be careful.

Local kayaking experts suggest watching water levels throughout the year before going out to paddle. They recommend going in springtime or fall, when frequent rain and cooler weather allow the water level to stay higher.

Parts of the Raystown Branch of the Juniata River flow faster and have rapids, but other portions -- such as this section that wraps around Warriors Path State Park near Saxton -- move so slow that the reflection of the land around it is almost perfect.

Regardless of where people choose to go kayaking, they have many options available that suit paddlers of any experience level, Gross said. Most of the rivers and lakes tend to be calm, he said, adding that they’re similar to bike trails in the area.

“I think the paddling around here can be very much assimilate to rail-trails for biking,” Gross said.

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/