Hike #1342; Pittsburgh to Connellsville

Hike #1342; Pittsburgh-Connellsville

7/22-7/26/20 Pittsburgh to Connellsville with Justin Gurbisz, Brittany Audrey, Joel Castus, Professor John DiFiore, and Jennifer Bee

This would be a big trip for me. One that I’d been wanting to do for a very long time.
Note that the photos were too difficult to post because of length here, but they are posted on the Metrotrails page under Great Allegheny Passage and Allegheny County albums.
The Great Allegheny Passage is a huge trail, which connects Cumberland Maryland with Pittsburgh PA. It has become a major part of the 911 National Memorial Trail south of Garrett, so it also fits into that series I’ve been working on.
I didn’t want to do only the sections that were part of the other trail. I wanted to do the entire thing.
Jillane and I had just completed the Trans-Allegheny trek from Williamsburg PA to Pittsburgh in two trips (Williamsburg to Saltsburg, and Saltsburg to Pittsburgh) earlier in the year.
The Great Allegheny Passage follows various routes, mostly being the Western Maryland Railroad and the Pittsburgh and Lake Erie Railroad. It follows various other things along the way where those rail beds were not possible.
When Jillane and I last went out, we stayed at the Indigo Hotel, which occupies some of the site of the former Eliza Furnace. That would be jump off point for this trip.
The hotel was really cool, and had a sort of metal fabrication theme to it, with pieces of old furnace infrastructure integrated into its newer construction.
Jillane said she didn’t want to do the Allegheny Passage with me a while back, and to plan it with my friends.
I had a trip all planned out, which I could sort of inject to anywhere on a calendar based on the time I had available. We could go between Pittsburgh and Connelsville easily because a passenger trail, the Capital Express, connected the two.
I decided to just drive out to Pittsburgh because it was easy enough to park there the way I had before. We could then hike on out to Connelsville and get back easily.
It was short notice to be planning such a big hike, but I was able to rope Justin, Brittany, and Joel into doing it from the start.

DAY 1

We all drove out together the long trip to the Eliza hotel and started getting stuff together that night.
Before going to sleep, we headed to a rooftop lounge that had views out over the Monongahela River and toward the Eliza Furnace Hot Metal Bridge.
The bridge is called such because liquid hot metal was taken on rail cars across to be processed on the other side. The bridge would have been sheathed in metal to keep it from catching ablaze. There are actually two bridges side by side, one that carries the road, and one that carries the Great Allegheny Passage Trail. The larger road bridge was built in 1887 for standard locomotives, and the trail one in 1900. The smaller trail one was part of the Monongahela Connecting Railroad, or the “Mon Con” that served these industries including the slag company subsidiary directly across.
We looked to the east a bit and saw there was a parking garage. We decided to wander on over and see if we could get on top for better views.
We exited the front of the hotel, and then walked the street to the north. The first parking garage was a short distance away, and easy to get in and walk up the steps. From the top, there were some views all around, but we couldn’t see that far down to the east toward the Birmingham Bridge, the first of several bowstring arch bridges throughout the Pittsburgh area.
We headed back down, and Justin climbed around along the edge of the building by a sort of elevator.
We headed out to the next building, and the doors were locked going in to the stairs. We decided to continue on, and then just walked through the vehicle entrance. We were then able to walk to the stairwell and elevators to get to the top of the garage.
I could see the Birmingham Bridge pretty well from up there.
We headed back down and out the door we could not initially get in, and a security guard came out of the building from across the street. He asked us what we were doing. I said “photographing the scenery”. He responded that it was private property. I told him we were (obviously) leaving and he walked away.
We headed directly back to the hotel and pretty much just went to sleep.

DAY 2

We woke up and started getting our stuff ready for the first full day. I had planned an eight or so mile loop that would take us just up the Three Rivers Heritage Trail, which is coaligned with the Great Allegheny Passage on the north side of the Monongahela River. We’d head out on the south side, then return on the north side from the actual start of the Allegheny Passage.
This would be a loop and we’d just finish back at the hotel in the same place. Because of that, we didn’t have to carry more than a day pack for this first day.
We walked out of the hotel and then across the parking lot to the east side of it. This took us over to the entrance to the Hot Metal Bridge and the Great Allegheny Passage. We headed up and across the through truss structure which afforded us good views downstream to the Birmingham Bridge, which opened in 1976.
Once on the other side of the bridge, we left the GAP Trail, and turned right on Three Rivers Heritage Trail, which to a degree follows the old Mon Con Railroad bed to the west.
The Jones and Laughlin company were the owners of the steel mills on the north side, and on the south side was a subsidiary called the Duquesne Slag Products Company. A little bit down the trail, we came across a giant slag pot on the left. Of course, everyone had to climb it. The slag pot here was recovered during redevelopment of the property in 1982 or so.
We continued along the trail, which breaks into two just ahead, with one of them directly on the Mon River, and the other on the old Mon Con Railroad right of way. We kept with the upper trail this time. I had already done this bit with Jillane the last time we were out there.
We eventually reached a former rail yard type area with a giant tower in it, just before passing beneath the Birmingham Bridge. This was the point I’d turned around with Jillane, so everything from this point on would be the furthest contiguous west I had ever hiked.

The trail passed through a surprisingly secluded section in some trees, and I noted what looked to be Giant Hogweed, a terrible invasive capable of burning the skin, on the left side. I believe the city had sprayed it, because it was mostly dead.
After Birmingham Bridge, there was a dark park and a giant metal sculpture of two men with sort of shovels, and another one of the giant old slag pots. Of course, this was another climbing opportunity.
Justin and Joel each climbed up to the tops of the heads of each of them, and it looked like an adult version of the old game “Rockem Sockem Robots”.

The piece of art was known as “The Workers” from an industrial arts co op in 2012.

We continued from this point on the trail to the west, which went into a surprisingly wooded area. There was an old guy sitting down at a wider spot along the way, and just past him I noticed some old metal cat walks going out onto the Monongahela River. We went back a bit to check them out. Justin and Brittany got out on them first. I followed, and the old man sitting near the approach said “We used to go out and drink on those”, motioning to the catwalks. I laughed, held up my bottle of Dragon’s Milk I purchased especially for this trip, and said “I’m drinking right now!”. The man smiled and held up his grocery bag to reveal he too was drinking from it. We laughed and I continued out onto the catwalk.
There was a pretty good view out there. Joel followed me on out, and checked out some of the ruins along the river. This had something to do with the coal barges I’m pretty sure. The entire Monongahela River in this area is canalized with dams and locks. The first one, the original Lock #1, was just a little upstream from this point, completed in 1841 by the Monongahela Navigation Company. Prior to that, sand bars, islands, and rapids kept the river from being navigated. By 1904, there were fifteen locks on the Monongahela River that allowed for boats to go far upstream. It was sometimes known as the “Little Giant”.
The Army Corps of Engineers took over the locks near the turn of the century, and the construction of a larger dam further downstream eliminated the need for Lock 1, because it was so much deeper.

In 1817, the Pennsylvania legislature authorized the Monongahela Navigation Company to build 16 dams with bypass locks to create a river transportation system between Pittsburgh and the area that would later become West Virginia. Originally planned to run as far south as the Cheat River, the system was extended to Fairmont, and bituminous coal from West Virginia was the chief product transported downstream. After a canal tunnel through Grant's Hill in Pittsburgh was completed in 1832, boats could travel between the Monongahela River and the Western Division Canal of Pennsylvania's principal east-west canal and railroad system, the Main Line of Public Works. In 1897, the federal government took possession of the Monongahela Navigation through condemnation proceedings. Later, the dam-lock combinations were increased in size and reduced in number. In 2006, the navigation system, operated by the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, had nine dam-locks along 128.7 miles (207.1 km) of waterway. The locks overcame a change in elevation of about 147 feet (44.8 m).
Briefly linked to the Monongahela Navigation was the Youghiogheny Navigation, a slack water system of 18.5 miles (29.8 km) between McKeesport and West Newton. It had two dam-locks overcoming a change in elevation of about 27 feet (8.2 m). Opening in 1850, but it was destroyed by a flood in 1865

It amazes me that the Mon River, the Allegheny River, and the Ohio River are still navigable by large ships coming all the way up from the Gulf of Mexico. It really makes the rivers overall unhealthy, but from an industrial standpoint, navigation this far into the heard of the country is absolutely amazing.

We headed back out to the trail, and a train went by on the parallel tracks, which I think used to be the Pennsylvania Railroad. Both it and the Pittsburgh and Lake Erie Railroad ran side by side through much of this area.

We soon passed beneath the South 10th Street Bridge, built in 1932. This one is the only cable suspension bridge of the three rivers in Pittsburgh, and is the longest one over the Monongahela. It was officially renamed the Philip Murray Bridge after the first President of the United Steelworkers of America, though most people don’t really refer to it as that.

We continued walking and the trail emerged from the paved pathway to an abandoned concrete road section. It then turned off to the right from this shortly after, and onto an area that was full of graffiti and lined with some old barricades. There was one of those stations for repairing bicycles, but every tool on the ends of the wires had been removed and stolen.
Soon, we came to an area full of crazy pastel colors. There were a couple of old rolling mills in the distance, all bright pastel colors, and lots of barricades along the trail, each painted different colors. The paved path was spray painted everywhere, as were just about every flat surface around. Mostly, it was all uplifting stuff such as “reject racism”, and “Love your enemies like yourself”. This area is known as The Color Park.
We had a view ahead of the Liberty Bridge, and beyond it a railroad bridge known as the Panhandle Bridge.

The Liberty Bridge is a cantilever bridge that was completed to connect to the Liberty Tunnel on the south side in 1928. The Panhandle Bridge was built by the Panhandle Railroad, which started out in the 1863. The current Panhandle Bridge is the third one to use the location, completed in 1903 for the Pittsburgh, Cincinnati, Chicogo, and St. Louis Railroad, known as the Panhandle Line because it goes across the West Virginia Panhandle. It was a subsidiary of the Pennsylvania Railroad.
When the bridge was no longer needed by the railroad or its successors, it became part of the Pittsburgh Port Authority, and the repurposed it as a light rail route when they were eliminated on street trolleys.

The Panhandle Route is much a trail to the west of there, and it’s what I have eyed for Jillane and I to finish our hike across Pennsylvania into the Panhandle. We have only 44 more miles to complete the entire length of Pennsylvania.

We continued walking to where there was a sort of portage spot or something. There were hand rails made of twisted rebar which looked really cool. The steps down to the Mon River were overgrown slightly, in two levels, but took us right down to the edge.
It was insanely hot out, but the water actually looked surprisingly clear. I was quite taken by it. We had watched it earlier, and it was loaded with enormous catfish, so it can’t be entirely unhealthy. I decided I was going to jump in.
I was able to stand well on the rocky bottom. I was thinking it would be a disgusting mud pit, but it really wasn’t. There was a sunken barge hoist or something just off the shore, and so I decided to swim out to it. A cylindrical piece of metal was next to it, which I grabbed for and cut my finger on its intense sharpness, but I was okay.
I couldn’t believe no one else wanted to get in. I was looking at these enormous bridges and an old crane, and who ever says they swim in the Mon River in the middle of Pittsburgh. It felt great.

I got out and we continued on the trail, which had an interruption here I think by 4th Street. Signs directed us onto the street and to the south a bit, and we crossed the active double tracks of what I believe was the Pittsburgh and Lake Erie Railroad. There was an old passenger car on display just to the left of the tracks here.
4th Street was quite nice, still made of paver surfacing. We followed this out to Cabot Way and turned right under the Liberty Bridge.
We continued from there under the Panhandle Bridge, and could see how some sections of it had been replaced. The original railroad would have had more stone piers, but the new light rail turns onto newer concrete ones off to the side. We made our way across a parking lot, having somehow turned off of the trail slightly. We could see the pavement striped for the trail, but it was interrupted quite a lot, so it must have since been rerouted and we missed a piece.
There was a huge building ahead with Pittsburgh and Lake Erie Railroad written on it.

The Pittsburgh and Lake Erie opened its main section in 1879 from Pittsburgh to Youngstown Ohio. Its headquarters must have been the building we were seeing. It was sometimes referred to as the “Little Giant” because it didn’t really have as much mileage as other big railroads, but it carried a great deal of tonnage. This is because of its connections between Pittsburgh and coal resources. It carried coal coke, iron ore, and other industrially needed items that made the line a lucrative business until long after other lines ceased to exist. It amazingly remained an independent railroad line until 1992.

The majority of what we would be hiking would be the Pittsburgh and Lake Erie. The Youghiogheny Branch was opened in 1882 to Connelsville which was its eastern terminus, and was 58 miles long, but we wouldn’t get on that until the next day.

We turned to the right and headed out toward the Monongahela River once more. As we approached, there was an enormous wheel, which I think had something to do with the pumping of water into the steel mills. I’m not sure though. It was along the Three Rivers Heritage Trail, which we could have gotten on a little earlier than this point, but I didn’t realize it.
We reached the edge, and then turned to the left on the Three Rivers Heritage Trail again. It was at this point we passed beneath the Smithfield Street Bridge, one of the most unique bridges in Pittsburgh.

The bridge was first opened in 1883. It is the second oldest steel bridge in America.
The bridge was widened in 1889 and again in 1911. It was repainted with its original colors used in 1915.
The bridge is the fourth to span the Monongahela at this point. The first was a wooden covered structure erected in 1818. That bridge washed out in a flood in 1832 and was replaced by a second covered structure, which destroyed by the Great Pittsburgh Fire of 1845. The third bridge was the second of John Roebling's wire suspension bridges, which lasted until the current structure was built.
During construction, traffic remained open, because the new bridge was built directly over top of the original one, but at a slightly higher level. That way, there was no interruption of service across the river.

We continued along the trail, which soon followed a former rail station platform complete with a cover. A stone building to the left I think was probably the station. This would have been the old Pittsburgh and Lake Erie platform. An old caboose was parked to the right as we walked by it.
Beyond here, the trail continued under the cover of the old station platform, and then the Hard Rock Café was out to the left beyond a fountain. We walked over closer to check it out. There was a large machine there on display that is supposedly a Bessemer Converter, as well as a 1941 Boyd Model “X” Toggle Press Refractory Brick Press.
It was also in about this location that the Clinton Furnace operated from 1859 until 1927 using Connelsville Coke as fuel. This was supposedly the first furnace of the more modern type, and the one that put Pittsburgh on the map for the iron industry.
We continued along the trail heading to the west a bit, and there was an underpass below the active railroad tracks to a boat area. We walked down and checked out the large murals on the walls. They told the entire history of Pittsburgh in art and text, starting with the native Americans, then their involvement in the French and Indian War. It moved on in more photos to discuss George Washington’s involvement in the area, the location of Fort Duquesne and how strategic it was at the confluence, the start of Meriwether Lewis and William Clark’s expedition west, and then further into industrialization from glass making, iron and steel, coal shipments, World War II shop building, and more.

We didn’t go under the tracks, but rather went back up to the trail heading west from here.
There was soon a pier for a previous bridge to our right. The bridge used to line up with the Wabash Tunnel on the south side, which now has a sharp curve before roads go into it. This was originally built as an ill-fated rail project by George J. Gould which was never successful. The Wabash Bridge, as it was called was plagued with problems (including Smallpox) from the start. It was completed in 1904, but mostly out of commission by the 1930s. It was abandoned for freight service in 1946, and then demolished in 1948.
The tracks were to our right, former PLE line, and soon the Fort Pitt Bridge appeared ahead.
This one was another bowstring arch span, but this one was the first one in history ever to be designed using computer, way back in 1959. Additionally, it was the first double decker bowstring arch. The bridge replaced the earlier Point Bridge.
Today, it carries Interstate 376, US Route 22, US Route 30, and US truck route 19. The Point Bridge remained in place until I believe about 1970 when it was demolished after sitting unused for years.

We continued ahead, and the trail turned left to cross Station Square Drive. We then paralleled that road heading west a bit more. There were what appeared to be old ferry pieces lying about along the left side of the trail.

We passed some more bridge abutments on the left, and the base of a pier to the right. That was the location of the original Point Bridge. That bridge and one over the Allegheny River closer to the end of “The Point” were taken down around the same time.

We had a great view out to The Point, now Point State Park, also known as the Golden Triangle. There was a large fountain out in the middle of the point, which is the beginning of the Great Allegheny Passage.
A train passed by on the former PLE line, and it tooted its horn at us as we walked by.

My original plan was to head across the Fort Pitt Bridge and head to the start of the passage for a shorter loop the first day, but we decided to take it a little further.
There are two of the funicular inclines still in service in Pittsburgh, the Monongahela Incline and the Duquesne Incline. The Duquesne would have the better view, but required going a little farther. We opted to do that, and we could then cross a bridge out over the Ohio River rather than over Monongahela. I’d been wanting to ride one of the planes for some time anyway.

We headed along a walkway toward it, and really saved because we would have had to pay for parking below if we’d driven to this point. It was only $2.50 per person to ride the incline, but they must make a bank on parking.
We headed up steps and then across a pedestrian bridge over the former Pennsylvania Railroad tracks. Beyond, there was an office where a lady was taking admission to get in. Brittany covered everybody here.

We had to wear stupid masks to get on the plane car, which was apparently an original one, well restored, with some tin roof and such in it.

The funicular incline was built in 1877 to carry freight and later passengers to the top of Mount Washington. It was originally steam-powered, 800 ft long and 400 ft high, with 30 degree angle.
The popularity of the incline grew through the course of the 19th century, and soon inclines were built up and down the slope.
By the middle of the 20th century, all but two of the inclines has closed, mostly due to new roads and automobiles. It closed in 1962 in need of repairs, but a nonprofit organization took it over and reopened it just a year later.
Today, only the Duquesne Incline and the Monongahela Incline remain in operation and are immensely popular among tourists and residents.

The inclined plane started moving up, and soon we were treated to some fantastic views of the three rivers. Up the plane, I was surprised to see how many weeds were growing out onto the track bed. Some of the stuff was rotted, but not in terrible shape.

Another car was coming down as we went up on the other track, with a sign reading “stop covid19” on it. It seems like there is nowhere we can go to get away from this fear mongering.
We exited at the top. We were lucky not to have to deal with anyone else but our own group riding it with us. We checked out the museum at the top, which had lots of great photos showing the incline many years ago, and lots of pictures of past floods and such.
We considered stopping for lunch at the top, but all of the places we were told were quite expensive, and I guess none of us were that hungry yet. We pushed along to the west a bit, and there was a great observation platform where I was able to set up several then and now compilations. There were more bridges in view from this place than I’d ever seen in any single place in my life, including New York City.

There were no less than 18 bridges all within view just at the top of the Duquesne Incline.

We enjoyed the view from the top for a bit, then started walking to the west on Grandview Ave.

There was a beer distributor on the left side of the road, and I figured I’d have a look inside to see if there was anything particularly good. I still had some Dragon’s Milk with me, but not much. The place had literally nothing good at all. It was all Bud or Coors light pretty much. We continued across the street from here to an overlook known as “Point of View”, where there was a statue of General George Washington and Seneca leader Guyasuta. Washington had met Guyasuta in 1753 when he guided him up the Allegheny River to a French fortification known as LaBoeuf to try to get them to leave the area. The talks failed and the French and Indian War ensued. Seventeen years later, in October of 1770, Washington and Guyasuta met again to discuss the future of the valuable area, and departed on friendly terms.
At this point, with a really nice view, the Duquesne Heights Greenway headed down a slope and into the woods below. It followed along a bit of a shelf, some of which might have been a staircase section many years ago called the Indian Steps. Apparently sections of this remain, but are in bad shape now.

The trail did a couple of switchbacks down the hill, first left, then right, then back to the left again. We maintained about the same elevation give or take, and there were at times very steep cliffs below us. We remained on good footpath for a while, and eventually came out to an open area with a power line crossing that afforded us some views to the West End Bridge, which would be the one we’d cross over the Ohio River.

The trail joined someone’s secondary driveway, and passed below a house before reaching Greenleaf Street.
The trail continued across the street and further on, but this was our turn. We turned right and headed downhill toward the West End Bridge, another bowstring arch structure, completed in 1932.
We crossed beneath a highway and then dashed through some traffic to get to the walkway over the bridge. We were afforded some great views here of the Ohio River to the fork with the Allegheny and Monongahela.
We walked across the bridge along the east facing side.
This point would be the farthest contiguous west I have ever hiked. By that, I mean I have walked a line from where I grew up all the way to this point on the bridge.
Once on the other side, we descended to a platform where it was possible to walk underneath and then ascend to the walkway on the west facing side. We didn’t do that this time, and instead headed downhill to the street level. From there, we headed toward a casino.
The casino was open, but there was no way of going around from the back. We were going to head directly to the Three Rivers Heritage Trail, which was along the river at this point, but we opted instead to try to go to the front of the casino and go in for food.
When we got around the building to the front door, the would not allow us past because we were wearing backpacks. Although it was just mostly day packs, they still wouldn’t let us. With that, we didn’t want to give them our money anyway.
We took the first path we came across to get back over to the Three Rivers Heritage Trail along the Ohio River.
A short distance along, through the trees, we could see a submarine. This was an odd thing to see. A submarine this far up the Ohio River, although the whole thing is navigable from the Gulf of Mexico.
The sub was called the USS Requin (SS-481), a Tench-class submarine that served the US Navy from 1944 until 1971. It served in several different capacities from war time to training throughout its military career before being decommissioned. Requin, named for the French word for shark, served as a museum piece in Florida for a time, but was transferred to the Carnegie Science Center in Pittsburgh Pa in 1990. It remains a memorial and museum today.
We headed on along the trail to the east, and reached a spot where there were steps down to the river. There weren’t a lot of people around, and I was burning up, so I decided to take another opportunity to go for a dip.
I’d never heard of anyone swimming in the Ohio River either, so I figured I’d better take this opportunity too. The water was again pretty surprisingly clear, so it was great for me. No one else wanted to really go in.

Once I got out, we continued on a brief footpath up and then back to the hard surface trail route. Soon, we headed to the left and made our way up to one of the main streets in search of food and drink.

We settled on a placed called Burgatory. We didn’t know it at the time, but it was a chain. I must say though, this place was excellent. Everyone had burgers, and they were all delicious. Even Justin raved about his bean burger he got, and he rarely orders anything at any restaurant. I got some sort of deluxe thing or something that was absolutely great, and some kind of IPA they had. It was the first time, as a group, we had sat down to eat a meal indoors since early March.
From here, we walked just up the street a bit, and Southern Tier Brewery was right there. The place was about to open, and I wanted to try to get something to go. I waited a few minutes out front for that, and then was able to get a pack of one of the IPAs, which was pretty good. Wouldn’t have been the first choice, but I liked it.

From here, we went back down to the waterfront and the heritage trail, and started to follow it to the confluence. We had good views across of the Duquesne Incline, the Fort Pitt Bridge out on the Mon River, and we were right next to the Fort Duquesne Bridge on the Allegheny.
The previous bridges over the rivers at this point were the Point Bridge over the Mon River and the Manchester Bridge over the Allegheny. They crossed near the end of “The Point” or “Golden Triangle” as it’s called.
Fort Duquesne bridge in Pittsburgh PA, is a bowstring Arch Bridge completed between 1958 and 1963, except for the connection on the east side. The bridge remained closed to traffic until 1969 when the on-ramps were completed. For years, it was known as the bridge to nowhere because it just stopped at the end with no connection.

We headed along the trail up the Allegheny River. My original plan to turn back earlier was shot by this point. Justin suggested that we walk across as many of the bridges as possible, and everyone was all for it, so off we went.
The next bridges were really something interesting. They are three nearly identical fixed suspension spans referred to as the Three Sisters, one right after the other. They were the first self-anchored I bar suspension style bridges.

When built, they were the 6th, 7th, and 9th Street Bridges. The first of the three is the Roberto Clemente Bridge, named for a Pittsburgh Pirates player. The second is the Andy Warhol Bridge, named for the famous hippie artist who grew up close to the bridge. The final is the Rachel Carson Bridge, famous naturalist and author, who also has a serious long distance trail nearby named for her.
“The Three Sisters” were opened up around the same time. Roberto Clemente in 1928, and the other two in 1926.
The Roberto Clemente Bridge site was home to other bridges previously. This is the fourth bridge to cross the Allegheny River at this site. The first was a Burr Arch truss Covered Bridge built in 1819. It was replaced in 1859 by John Roebling's third and final Pittsburgh suspension bridge. That bridge was demolished in 1892, and the third 6th Street Bridge was a camel back truss installed that same year.
Andy Warhol Bridge was the third to occupy that site. The original bridge on this site was built in the early 1800s and demolished in 1884. The second bridge opened in 1887.
The Rachel Carson Bridge was closed for repairs when we got there, but the other two were open. We walked under all three of them and continued a bit further, because we wanted to have a better look at the Fort Hunter Railroad Bridge.
The railroad bridge is incredibly interesting itself, because it’s a rare example of a double decker rail bridge.

Completed in 1904 by the American Bridge Company, the 985 foot, five span steel truss bridge over the Allegheny River was built for the Pittsburgh, Fort Wayne, and Chicago Railway to replace the original 1868 bridge.
The bridge is an uncommon example of a double decker rail span, with 2 tracks each. The lower levels carried freight to connections in town until the 1980s, but is now abandoned, while the upper level still carries both Norfolk Southern and Amtrack.

We approached the bottom of it, and then headed up toward the west abutment. There was a set of steps going up, much covered over, but we were able to get up them to the bed of the lower level track.
There was a homeless person with their tent on the lower track, next to a chain link fence where the bridge deck starts. There were no railroad ties on it, but it would probably be pretty easy to cross here. Just very much in the open.
We all pretty much wanted to cross this bridge, and figured we could get away with it.
We headed to the south side of the bridge from the rail deck, and then climbed up to the right a bit, but that led us to the edge of the highway. This was a major highway, but we were able to walk beneath the bridge on top of some concrete barricades.
Once we got to where a vertical concrete wall ended and there was a steep slope, we bushwhacked up through some poison ivy and such to get to the active track level.
It was pretty well exposed, but the approach to the bridge was obvious and it looked easy. There was a grated walkway along it, and we were able to go out and walk onto the deck next to one of the sets of active rails. If we ran into any trouble, we could get off to the side. I got a few shots of the abandoned lower deck as we walked.
As we approached the east side, there were cameras on the bridge. Justin and I just put on our masks and figured that would take care of it.
We continued on the tracks, and there was a fence below us to the right between us and a parking garage. There was a guy, maybe a guard or something, who went into a door and disappeared from inside the garage. At this time, we bushwhacked down the slope and then followed the fence along the garage to the east. When the fence ended, we were able to hop down a level into the lower portion of the parking garage. No one else came out, and we were able to go out of the garage and through their chain link fence to get out to Fort Duquesne Blvd.
We turned to the right back under the Fort Hunter Rail Bridge, and then turned to the left onto the Three Rivers Heritage Trail on the other side, and followed it along the Allegheny River to the south again.
We continued by the Rachel Carson Bridge, and then reached the Andy Warhol Bridge. We climbed up and crossed back over the Allegheny River on it, with some good views of the other bridges.
Once on the other side, we walked one block inland a bit, then cut through Allegheny Landing, which is like an art part. There was a disconnected fountain and then a large triple archway with art in the walkways and walls. We passed through this and then another short bit to the south to the Roberto Clemente Bridge, where we climbed up to cross back over the Allegheny River again.
This bridge had its walkway fences covered in lots of locks. I’m not sure why, but it was there.
Somewhere in the vicinity I think of the Rachel Carson Bridge was one of the western terminus points of the Pennsylvania Canal. There was a basin somewhere up in the area of the street we were following, and an end down near where we were walking I think in the area of Heinz Field. A spur branch crossed over the Allegheny River via an aqueduct and then continued through town, then through a tunnel to the Mon River for navigation connection.
We continued from here along the Three Rivers Heritage route toward The Point, now Point State Park. The edges of the walls were covered in a large Black Lives Matter mural and then a painting of George Floyd. After that, several other black Americans, one a woman I had seen in some recent news that had been a victim of some injustice. Each of the pillars had one of their faces painted on it.
After this, we soon reached the end of the open part of the state park. There was a pretty girl riding a skate board down steps, and a hipster photographer taking photos of her. We walked by, and I was taking pictures of the river. Just after we passed, the girl took a spill and her skateboard went flying off into the Allegheny River. The river is super deep here, so the skateboard was pretty much gone. Fortunately she didn’t have a complete breakdown.
We headed from here out further to the point, and there was a park police officer sitting and watching everyone in his patrol car. It was really hot out there at this point. At the end of the point there is a giant fountain, which I wanted to just get in. I watched the officicer drive around in his car, and when he got out of sight, I jumped into the fountain for a dip. I then got out, and it was starting to rain, so that covered my wetness, and he didn’t see me in there.
With the strength of the rail growing, he decided to leave, and Justin and Brittany took cover under one of the buildings further inland. As soon as the officer was gone, I hopped back in, and went up to the upper level of the fountain.
There was a really nice moment there, where I was swimming around, as was one other white guy, and then a large group of black kids. We were all just carrying on and having a good time, and it felt really good to see the white and black guys ask each other’s names, exchange which parts of town they were from, fist bump and jump off the middle of the fountain together, all within a stone’s throw of all the BLM and injustice art.
The downpour was pretty cool, and when it started to let up a bit, Joel and I headed around the end of the point. Justin and Brittany were off somewhere that we could not see them.
This was the very beginning of the Great Allegheny Passage, at the end of The Point.
We walked further on down, toward the Fort Pitt Bridge, and the park police officer was parked at a building to the left. Also to the left is an outline of the site of Fort Duquesne. This is where the French established the fort in 1753, and was later taken over by the English. Bricks now line where the fortification was, as well as its replacement Fort Pitt.
It was also in this area that the expedition of Meriwether Lewis and William Clark started in 1803. Commissioned by President Thomas Jefferson, the due and cohorts ushered in western expansion with travel down the Ohio River.
It was just amazing to me, to be in an area of such great history.
Justin and Brittany soon caught up with us, and we all moved on down the trail to the east.
We passed beneath Fort Pitt Bridge, which has tons of on ramps all coming together interestingly, and then we headed directly under Rt 376. The trail goes beneath the road or right next to it for a long while.
Around this time, it worked out perfectly that we got caught in a torrential downpour. We had a good long while of walking directly beneath the highway and didn’t have to get rained on. When the trail turned to the right and got closer to the edge of the Mon River, we just stayed put and were fine.
We soon passed by an abandoned bridge pier. This was the other pier of the Wabash Bridge we saw earlier, torn down in 1948.
A lot of what we were walking through this section was originally the route of the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad. Much of the north shore of the Mon River was that, and abandoned in the 1980s. For a time, it was the PA Railroad (for Port Authority), but that didn’t do well, partially due to foolish decisions.

Here is a video from the end of the operations on that line:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pUfEXTkkV8A&feature=youtu.be&fbclid=IwAR31Awvw6ZfWMVvUeZgNT2EPGaSGnTOSQkA0Gi5GNTW2uoPyknc04g2EvlY

We soon approached the north side of the Smithfield Street Bridge. The trail came very close to the pedestrian access to it, so we took the opportunity to walk over it. We would still remain on the north side on the Allegheny Passage, but just wanted to have a good look at the beautiful bridge.
After having a look around, we moved on by ramps and such under another section of Rt 376 for a bit. We then got away from it and there was a sort of star in a cul de sac on the trail near Grant Street. I’m told this is where the Baltmore and Ohio used to have one of their rail stations. The trail followed much more closely the railroad bed beyond this point.
A little ahead, we went back under a highway on ramp for a time, and passed near the court house. At about this location was the former Pennsylvania Canal, which had four locks to lower boats down to the level of the Mon River. Just a bit to the north of here was the canal tunnel, one of the oldest in America built about 1832, but now covered over.
The rest of the route was pretty straightforward on the paved former railroad bed. We passed beneath another 376 on ramp, and moved on to the east. We did pass one spot where there was a way down to a now abandoned pedestrian underpass of both the railroad and the highway to our left. Justin, Brittany, and I all went down it, and then Joel passed us above while we were down there after falling a bit behind.
Things went by pretty quickly from there, and we remained on the trail to the Bates Street underpass. We headed down a dirt path here, and then directly across to the Hotel Indigo to finish off our day.
We relaxed for a bit at the hotel, and John joined us there that night. We hunt out for a bit at the deck sitting area where there are good views out to the Mon River and around the town, which was nice.

I was pretty well knocked out, and I fell asleep probably before anyone else when we got to the room. Someone ended up waking me up by waving an open box of pizza in front of my face, which I barely remember. Apparently, I woke up to that, ate a bunch of pizza, and immediately passed out again.

DAY 3

I typically wake up before anyone else, but I don’t know that I was first one up this time. Joel went downstairs and spent some time cleaning out my van to help out.
I eventually got up, and went down to use the computer for a bit.
When everyone was ready to go, I made a big mess of organizing my bag, making sure I had what I needed, and loading up. The thing weighed at least forty pounds at the start, but once I had it on my back, it wasn’t so bad.
We all headed out across Second Avenue, and then climbed up to the trail where we had descended from the night before. We then followed the former Baltimore and Ohio grade to the pedestrian bridge back over Second Ave toward the Hot Metal Bridge. A trail continues on the B&O grade to the east, but the Allegheny Passage crosses.
John headed out from us to the east. He was going to get on his bike and join us that way, following a sort of parallel and crisscrossing route.
It was bright, sunny, and hot already. We scurried over the bridge, turned left across Hot Metal Street, and onto the trail heading to the west. There was a giant metal sculpture there that represented the steel making process. The paved trail I think probably follows more of the Mon Con Railway, or another industrial railroad route.
We paused in the shade to shift our stuff around a bit and I pulled out a beer to drink.
While I was drinking it, a Pittsburgh cop went by. I thought for sure that he saw it, and he went by us again after a little bit. The trail was pretty close to Water Street in this section, so we were quite visible.
I shoved my beer into my belt under my shirt and moved on ahead, and pulled it back out when everyone the cars were gone.
As we moved on further ahead, there was another one parked just ahead as we were walking east. Just as I was getting in sight of him, I turned around again and put my beer back in my belt, then waited for the others to catch up with me. Another cop car went by me also heading east, and the two pulled up side by side.
At this spot, there were two old metal piers on cylinders out into the Mon River, which we walked out to check out. The cops looked at us cautiously, and as we walked back from the piers, I gave a friendly wave. One of them drove off first, and then the second one after.
Water Street paralleled us for a bit, followed by some apartments, but we were soon in the woods. Active railroad tracks were directly to the right, I think formerly the Pittsburgh and Lake Erie, and beyond that former Pennsylvania Railroad tracks a bit uphill.
There were still quite a few people on the trail going by on bikes, but not nearly as many as further back. There was also a lot more shade, which was wonderful.
Off to the right of the trail, the former Pennsylvania Railroad had a large concrete bridge, the Becks Run Viaduct opened in 1924 to replace an earlier one. There was also a coal mine uphill somewhere right in there, and a tipple for loading.
Several historic markers were affixed to the chain link fence to the right of the trail, and paths would go down to the Mon River to the left. I followed a couple of them, and they took me to an area of concrete ruins with large metal hoist things, apparently for work with coal barges. There was a nice rope swing at the one of them, but I didn’t use it at this point.

At this point, we were well out of Pittsburgh, and we entered Baldwin Borough. There were now usually fancy stone markers standing up that gave the trail mileages. In some cases, the posts were made of white plastic or carsonite, but for the most part they were all really pretty serious stone. It must have cost a fortune to have numbers engraved on so many stones.
We continued ahead, and soon came out to a pretty wide open area where the trail skirted the edge of a tall wall. Tracks were still to the right, and went by a large scrap yard. We crossed over an access road and under the Glenwood Bridge after a couple of turns. This is a cantilever bridge over the Mon River opened in 1966. The trail then started to parallel Sandcastle Drive closely. A little bit beyond that, we passed beneath a long railroad bridge over the Mon River and many roads. This was built in 1915, a Pratt through truss. We were close to the Sandcastle Water Park, which would be tempting to go on into, but we had a long way to go and that would take another entire day.
The trail switched from the south to north side of the road, and then we reached the Costco Store. This seemed to be a good spot for a lunch stop, and I told everyone what good cheap food they usually have prepared in these places.
We all went in, and I displayed my Costco Card. It had expired, but no one needed to know that. Brittany wanted to get something, but the card was expired and they asked if I wanted to pay the sixty bucks to renew. I declined, but we were still able to get the food there anyway. I got a slice of pizza and an enormous hot dog. Both were absolutely delicious. I think I also got ice cream.
We went out and sat on the lawn under a tree, with perfect timing because John caught up with us there. I gave him my card so he could go into the store and get something from the cheap food as well.
John wanted to hit the entire Allegheny Passage, so he was on his way to Pittsburgh, and he’d catch up with us again a bit later. I recommended that he head to the point, but return on the south side of the Mon River, similarly to what we had done hiking it, and that’s what he did.
Just ahead, we could see the twelve smoke stacks of the former Homestead Steel Works, which was first built in 1881 by Andrew Carnegie. It was once the largest steel works on the Mon River. It was also the site of one of the largest worker strikes in US history, the Homestead Strike of 1892.
The plant was sold to US Steel in the early 1900s, and did very well for many years, but it closed in 1986. Most of the site was demolished, and turned into The Waterfront retail area, as well as the Sandcastle Waterpark. The twelve stacks and several other things were left in place.
The trail followed the roads, and turned left on West Waterfront Drive. Soon, we came across an extant Gantry Crane, which hung out over the Mon River, between hotels. Justin saw a way to get on it, and so we all decided to take our chances and climb up the thing.
This ended up being amazing. There were several stories of ladders and such to reach the catwalk on the upper level, which we took out to over the Mon River. Gantry cranes, or overhead cranes, are designed to pick up the heaviest loads in the world.
We climbed back down and continued on the trail to the east, which went around buildings and then closer to the shore of the Mon River.
At this point, the trail follows the right of way of the Union Railroad, which served the mills and such. We passed beneath the Homestead Grays Bridge, and there were some ruins of platforms, probably something to do with loading, along the edge.
The slope in this area was kept pretty clean, and there were burros kept by a local group to keep the hillside clear of weeds. That was pretty cool to see.
The sun got to be really hot and there wasn’t much shade, so we ended up walking closer to the apartment buildings that were on our right for some of this stretch.
Soon, another rail bridge came into view. This was known as the Pinkerton’s Landing Bridge, which opened in 1883, a combination of Parker truss and deck girder. Just below the bridge, the Homestead Labyrinth was a little peaceful spot. The bridge was part of the Pittsburgh and Lake Erie Railroad I believe.
The trail emerged next to the old Pump House #1, which pumped pressurized water into the steel mills. This area had a few structures that were associated with the mills still standing, and we could see the stacks of the Carrie Furnace just ahead. A train went over the PLE bridge while we were there.

Carrie Furnace operated from 1884 to 1982. Today, only furnaces 6 & 7 remain. They operated from 1907 until 1978. The site is designated National Historic Landmark, and part of it is planned for economic Redevelopment.

We turned to the right, and the trail followed along Waterfront Drive again for a time. We passed a couple of abandoned buildings, and there were old tracks going across the road in the next section. Soon, the trail turned off to the left, still paved. So far, only a short bit of it on the old Union Railroad section was unpaved.
After walking just a little bit, I missed the turn, but Justin spotted a hole in the fence that led onto the Carrie Furnace Hot Metal Bridge, built in 1900 to bring the molten metal over the Mon River. The bridge was armored in steel reinforcement through its entire length, so if there were any spills, it wouldn’t catch the bridge ablaze. The entire thing was sort of armored in such a way that I’ve never seen a bridge before. It also made it extremely easy to walk over.
The bridge was double tracked, and only the west side was kept with rail on it. The east side had no ties or rails at all. I still went out onto it, but it’s not anything you’d want to fall off of. There was a wooden walkway on the east side, but it’s also nothing that I would trust.
We went down a ladder to the left that led us onto one of the piers. We had a good view of the Carrie Furnace, as well as down the Mon River. Justin saw that there was a pipe going up the side of the truss, so he climbed to the very top of the bridge.
There was lots of graffiti, and one said “I will be entertained…”, and another said “The only paradise you will find is the one that you create”. This rung out strong to me.
Brittany and I walked across the bridge while Justin went over the top. Joel was behind us a bit at this point, and was starting to hurt pretty bad. He ended up going by us on the trail, we caught up with him in a little bit.
We followed the trail beneath the Rankin Bridge, parallel with the active railroad yard. Rankin was built in 1951. A little beyond that, the trail went up and over a footbridge to the south side of the tracks.
We had a good view over to Braddock PA and the

Braddock Pa was the largest producer of railroad rails at one point. The US Steel facility was in view from the bridge. I had walked by it with Jillane in May on the other side.
The plant, known as the Edgar Thomson Works, was established by Andrew Carnegie in 1873 on Braddocks Field, the site of the Battle of Monongahela during the French and Indian War where British General Edward Braddock was mortally wounded.
The Edgar Thomson works survived the collapse of the steel industry in the 1980s, and still has two blast furnaces in operation. About 900 are employed here, some third generation steel workers.
Because there are newer and more efficient steel making processes overseas, the American way of doing it is quite antiquated and is almost treated like a special craft. It’s surprising that this one plant is still running the way it has.

We continued across and then to the left into better shade. One of the first things I noticed here was a large plant that I am almost certain is Giant Hogweed, one of the most dangerous poison plants we have. I saw some of what I thought was it in Pittsburgh, but I wasn’t sure. It was dead because someone had sprayed it with roundup or something. At this point, I was pretty sure.
In this stretch, John caught back up with us having done his entire loop around Pittsburgh.
The trail in this section was sort of like a railroad bed, but it might not have been. It was not totally flat, and might have been a road or something that was above the tracks. We often had some nice views toward the Mon River, the rail yard below, and the Edgar Thomson Works. At one point, we went by one of the rollercoasters at Kennywood Park. A little beyond there, there was another good overlook and a water station where we stopped to refill. The water was a courtesy provided by the Kennywood Park. This was just the first of many great conveniences along this trail. It’s really set up well not only for cyclists but backpackers too.
Below us in this area was the Braddock Lock and dam.
This is not the original dam on the site. The Army Corps of Engineers built the dam in pieces off site, and brought it in. There are now nine dams on the Mon River for navigation into West Virginia, but I think there use to be ten counting the one in Pittsburgh.
We continued along the trail along the slope, and eventually descended a bit to the level of the lower railroad yard. There was an abutment where a bridge apparently used to go over from our right. We only followed the yard for a bit, then ascended to another pedestrian bridge over the track yard to the north side.
We passed through an industrialized area that was very hot and open, then crossed over Grant Street. Somewhere in this area, we found a shady spot beneath one of the sparse trees and sat down for a bit. A cyclist came flying down the ramp behind us at excessive speed screaming at us to “GET OFF THE TRAIL”, as if he couldn’t just go a little to the left. It’s not like anyone else was going by us. As he went by, Justin yelled at the guy to fuck off. For that matter, a fifteen mile per hour speed limit is imposed on the Great Allegheny Passage, and he was clearly over that. Still, this was literally the only case of someone being an asshole on this trail. Everyone else was really overall nice, and many stopped their bikes to ask us how far we were going. Just a very nice community all around.
We continued on the trail and passed beneath South Linden Street, then under the McKeesport-Duquesne Bridge, which opened in 1928, but we went through a concrete tunnel of sorts. The industrial area we were in was the town of Duquesne, and McKeesport was up next. Amazingly, McKeesport is among the roughest, highest crime rate towns in Pennsylvania.
We moved a little bit ahead, and we were obviously back on another railroad bed. We then approached a very nice bridge over the Mon River built in 1890. This was the McKeesport Connecting Railroad Bridge, commonly known as the Riverton Bridge, which connected the US Steel Duquesne Works and Dorothy Furnace with McKeesport and the National Tube Works. The mills were razed in the 1980s after closing, and the rail bridge remained unused until it became part of the Allegheny Passage in 2007.
We enjoyed the view here, but it was too hot to hang out for too long. We hurried across the bridge, then went down the ramp on the other side. The trail left that rail grade and followed the riverside. Just at the bottom, a little path to the right led down to the Mon River and some interesting ruins with walkways out along the river edge, as well as some great views of the Riverton Bridge.
We hung out and enjoyed this spot for a while, and watched and waited for Joel to make his way across the bridge. He was pretty far behind, but eventually we saw him coming across and waved.
He caught up with us there and the ruins, and then we moved on along the trail. Just ahead, there was an awesome railroad roundhouse still intact to our left. We wanted to go in, but there didn’t look to be a way, and it was also getting pretty late.
The trail followed along a rail bed for a bit, but also weaved around and then out to Locust Street. John was nearby looking for us, and I got a hold of him. I told him Joel was not doing too well, and that he could really use a ride. Fortunately, John was able to save the day. We left him there on Locust for a bit, and Justin, Brittany, and I headed along the trail route beside the active tracks and beside the National Tube Company Building built in 1906.
The Allegheny Passage is supposed to go through without this street walk I understand, and the McKees Point Trail went to the right, to the confluence of the Allegheny and Youghiogheny Rivers, but right now the trail doesn’t go through. We didn’t go for the side trip, and instead headed to the left on the Great Allegheny Passage, which begins to follow the Youghiogheny upstream from here.
There was another sign for a connecting route to the Montour Trail. This is another long distance mostly rail trail along the west side of the Pittsburgh metropolitan area. One of these days I want to get to that too.
There were boats everywhere in a marina here. There was a large road bridge and a large railroad bridge that spanned the mouth of the Youghiogheny, and the river was like a big part.
We followed the trail along the pleasant river route, which still had slack water from the Mon River. Someone was calling out numbers on the far side of the river, and many people were seated around in the middle of a Bingo game. Brittany shouted out “BINGO!” across the river, and we heard a chorus of laughter follow.
The trail ended on its off road route at I think it was 12th Street. John and Joel showed up in John’s car, and he asked if we’d like him to take our packs to the lot in Boston, where we would be ending for the night. We were all happy to have free backs for a bit, so we passed off our packs to him and continued on.
We walked a couple of blocks of streets, and many of the houses looked bombed out. Some were totally abandoned, and some were just steps that went up to where houses used to stand.
The trail started back up again at 13th Street for a bit, and we turned to the right on the 13th Street Bridge across the Youghiogheny. Another trail route goes along the other side of the Youghiogheny and comes back to the main one in Boston PA.
On the other side, the trail turned off and followed River Road Road for a bit, but the dedicated path soon ended and we were just on the road for a bit. We were right beside the active railroad tracks, and a train passed while we were there. Those active tracks eventually turned and crossed the Youghiogheny. The trail turned to the right where River Ridge Road turns right, and becomes abandoned. The trail then followed what I guess was an abandoned road into the woods parallel with the Youghiogheny.
We went up and down slightly, and descended after a bit. We had seen from above an old rail yard of sorts, but then we descended to the level of the railroad. The tracks were in at this point as well. This was the Pittsburgh and Lake Erie tracks, which continued all the way to Connelsville. We would pretty much be following this rail bed for the entire remainder of our trip.
The tracks didn’t continue for very long. They stopped after joining the trail after a couple hundred feet. We would often see old mile markers along this route, and they were mostly all nicely repainted white with a P&LE on them.
This was a pretty nice stretch in better shade. We passed an area of side trails known as Dead Man’s Hollow, which apparently has ruins in it, but we didn’t have that much time to go exploring it. We wanted to get done for the day.
I was never 100% sure how far we would go on each day, but my hope was to be able to do about twenty miles. The town of Versailles and the town of Boston are across the Youghiogheny from one another, and it was one of the only places around where there would be anywhere to stay overnight. There was one outfitter right by the trail that had rooms available for trail users. We also passed a trail hostel in McKeesport, but it looked like it had been damaged and wasn’t open. The other place was the Yough Shore Inn, also shown in some areas as the Yough River Manor.
Everyone was looking forward to a shower, but Brittany was reading reviews that looked less than flattering. I didn’t worry about it though. I find that the places that are more eccentric appeal more to me, and this one was something like that for sure. I called the owner, who said we could stay, and if they had no rooms, we could camp. She already had a huge group of cyclists staying the night there, so that was what we had to do.
When we reached the parking area in Boston, we found John and Joel, and there was what might have been an old station building, as well as a box car from the PLE on display.
When we got to the bridge that went over the Yough River into Versailles, we turned right and headed up Boston Hollow Road to the place.
This place, like a Bed and Breakfast, was basically this lady, Lyn’s house. She told us it was once a retirement home, but that it was converted to a sort of bed and breakfast.
She welcomed us all in, and was very friendly. We met the cyclist group who were hanging out on the deck. We were told we could set up tents by the creek in the yard, or we could just stay on the deck if we wished too, but after the others were done out there.
Lyn had parrots and other birds all over the house, which was quite interesting. Several of them talked. One of them, a large white one, had a sort of Mohawk that came out when approached, and we had it saying “happy bird” over and over again. It danced back and forth, climbed around, paced in circles, and repeated things. Any of us that put our hand out, the bird would climb on. It really loved attention. Justin and I both got bit by the bird. It was pretty crazy.
Lyn took Justin, Brittany, and I up to a place up the road to get food. I got myself a hot dog and a pulled pork sandwich, and an extra one for Joel to bring back. It was quite excellent. A great stop.
We then hung out in the living room and talked to Lyn about everything from the state of the world right now to the history of the area. She really seemed to like having us there because, Justin and I especially were very much into the history. Lyn had worked at the steel mill in Homestead as well, before they tore it down, and she said something about having had family that worked at the Edgar Thomson Works. She said after the mills closed, the crime rate went up, and that McKeesport is now all drugs, and that’s what happened.
She really liked Justin because he looked similar to her grandson, who, like Justin, is also a photographer and a climber.
We chatted for quite a long while, until one of the cyclist people came out and asked us to quiet down. We weren’t by any means being loud, they just could hear too much.
Apparently Brittany talked to them, and they were on bikes, and were covering only fifteen miles per day. We were walking, and doing twenty miles per day!

DAY 4

It got cool enough during the night that sleeping was pleasant, but never warm enough that I could even get into my sleeping bag. I just slept on top of it. When the sun rose up over the creek, the warmth hit me so bad that I couldn’t bear to lay still. I had to get up and get back in the river immediately. It was really just too hot to move.
We all started packing our stuff up, and Brittany was too tired to get up and go with us. Joel was going to have John pick him up, and the two of them would go earlier, and Brittany was saying she was going to go with them.
We packed our things and headed back uphill to the main picnic grounds, refilled our water, and were soon on our way.
It was already hot again at the start, but at least we had some shade.
We soon passed by an area known as Port Royal on the rail bed, where there was a marker for the Port Royal #2 Mine Disaster of 1901 (there is another Port Royal in Juniata Valley we hiked through previously).
The stone epitaph there told the story of damp gas that exploded and entombed five miners. A rescue was attempted, which led to another explosion and the deaths of more. At least twenty men died during this mine disaster.
There were damp rocks and pretty moss trickling with water along the cliffs to the right of us. We walked beneath the Interstate 70 bridge ahead, and noticed it had a walkway beneath it. Justin and I of course wanted to go up under it, but we had a long way to go on our final day.
We had considered camping at a KOA site a little to the north and west of Connelsville, but at that point we were so close to the town, it really didn’t make any sense to stay any extra. I left it that we could make our decision partway through the day and just get done early, or we could camp and have a short day the next day.
It didn’t take too long to decided that we would just keep going on.
Brittany decided she did want to do at least some of the next day, and so she got a ride ahead of us.
We next reached the community of Smithton, mostly along the east side of the river at this point. I didn’t need anything, but Jen did, so Justin and I walked ahead a bit and hung out under the Rt 981 bridge over the river, and I took a dip. Jen walked across and found a general store, then came back and met us there.
The stone mile markers continued the entire way, and we watched them drop slowly. 109, 108, 107.
We soon entered an area that used to be more coal mines, and then an old mining community named Van Meter. There used to be a rail yard here, and we could see in the parallel back yards to our left, as well as a bridge over a stream to the right, that this used to be a substantial rail yard. The yards had some remnants of ties in them, and the bridge had structures for at least two more tracks parallel with the one the trail uses.
As we continued to the south, we saw a house to the right that revealed upon further inspection that it was the former Van Meter railroad station.
THEN NOW
The station was in great shape, but not well recognizable because of an addition on the side facing the rail bed, it wasn’t immediately obvious.
We didn’t realize it at the time, but the station is now a bed and breakfast, as well as a little store and farm stand. In fact, several little businesses either sell drinks or ice cream in addition to whatever else along the way. We were liking the idea of ice cream, and so we stopped.
We were invited to stay under the pavilion there and sit at the bench. The owner sold us some ice cream that we quite enjoyed, and I questioned her about the station.
She had named her place the South Yard Depot Bed and Breakfast, because she had been told that this was called the South Yard, of the area railroad yards. It was actually known as either the Van Meter Station or Jacob’s Creek I think.
We ended up having a longer than expected conversation about the state of the world. Several bike riders came by and purchased ice cream while we chatted about politics and health of the world.
The most interesting part of the conversation was that insurance money apparently doesn’t go through “during pandemic”, and that insurance life policies don’t pay out during those times. It was something that I’d never considered, however I had just heard from a few different people that they were waiting for life insurance money that hadn’t come in. If there was some kind of conspiracy, the life insurance thing would definitely be one of the items that would affect everyone worldwide.
We had a very nice time sitting and talking. Before we got up and moved on, I thought to myself how great this was. Even though we were powering through long distance days, and there was surely a lot more we’d have liked to take the time to see, we did take the time here and there to really experience the places and engage with the people. It’s one of the things that made it really special.
Just to the south of Van Meter, after a crossing, was the former site of the Darr Mine. This was apparently one of the largest mine disasters in American history. A whopping 239 miners died after an explosion in 1907, and it prompted the banning of the open flame lamp in coal mines.
We continued along the trail to the south, and soon a huge railroad bridge overhead came into view. This was known as the Banning Bridge, a rare example of a K-Truss frame, one of two on the Wheeling and Lake Erie Railway. It used to be a major connection between the Western Maryland Railroad and Pittsburgh, but now only sees light coal carrying traffic. Usually, such bridges are not seen outside of the Great Plains states. It was built relatively late, in 1930 as part of Jay Gould’s plan for a transcontinental railroad, which fell through. It’s really an impressively huge bridge.
We headed just a little ahead, and there were all of a sudden some major concrete ruins to the left.
This was a major coal processing plant of the Pittsburgh Coal Company at the Banning #1 Mine. Works began here in the 1800s, but became more important after the aforementioned mine disaster in 1907, when the Darr Mine was closed, but access was opened from Banning #1 and Banning #3.
The mine was very productive and employed up to five hundred men after the expansion. It remained in service until 1956.
We entered the concrete building, which still had a roof on it. It still had a roof over it, and was a very long corridor full of very interesting graffiti. We walked to the end, then to the left and around the outside of large cylindrical structures. There were a group of kids hanging out on top of it, and we just kind of went by them saying hello. I had my big pack on going through it, so it made getting through some of the spots a little tougher than it would have been. We went up and down a large set of steps, and into a partially collapsed room. This really was an interesting facility.
We headed out through some weeds, and then moved on along the trail beneath the Banning Bridge.
We pushed ahead a bit more, and took a break at a good spot with a path down to the river. The spot had a pretty great view of the Banning Bridge looking back. It was really great to be able to cool off at just about any time along the way. The Great Allegheny Passage is really the perfect route for a Summer trip.
We continued south and reached the site of the Banning #2 coal mine. There were ruins to the right, and a sign that said “ruins closed”. They apparently do tours at some times.
Just beyond this point was a house turned business in one of the old brick mining buildings. It also sold drinks and ice cream, if we’d needed it.
We headed downstream further yet along the rail bed, and soon reached the open area in the settlement of Whitsett.
This was an early integrated community of Eastern European and Southern African Americans who all worked in the coal mines from when they were set up with community homes, between 1900 and 1920. It was cool to see such a place was rather free of racial strife early on. Today, the descendants of these people apparently maintain their portion of the trail.
As we walked into the community, a man working in his yard to the right of the trail asked us if we needed any water. Everyone through the entire area was overall so friendly, it was great.
We were good, as we were reaching a pavilion where we could refill just a head. We paused for a break there and got some water from a spout and had a little break.
We continued to the south and east beyond town, and got back into a little more shade again. We were near but not in the town of Perryopolis, and eventually came to the Layton Bridge.
The bridge was pretty interesting. We knew it was old right away, and the underside looked like crap. Brittany was waiting for us under the bridge when we got there.
The members beneath were rusted in some cases completely through. It couldn’t be climbed on because you’d impale your hands. Some sections of it were rusted to the point they were completely gone.
It was amazing this bridge was still standing. It was very interesting in that the deck was in the middle of the truss structure, rather than above or below.
I found out while reading into it later, that this was originally a railroad bridge.
The Washington Run Railroad started work on the bridge in 1893, and it opened in 1899. The last train crossed the bridge in 1931. We didn’t walk up to the top, although we should have. The railroad, and now road, went through a railroad tunnel immediately after the bridge, right above us. Apparently the bridge was used in the movie “Silence of the Lambs”.
We continued south from here, and Brittany decided she didn’t want to continue on after all, because we had decided we were going to go to Connellsville. She was going to try to get an Uber.
We headed south and stopped at a spot where there used to be a suspension bridge over the river. A small road paralleled the rail bed for a bit, and led to what appeared to be a few abandoned buildings on the right. The river to our left was now filled with much larger boulders. The gorge the river ran through was deeper than before.
Soon, after some bends, we came to the Round Bottom camping area at Slush Run. We decided to take a break here and go for a dip in the river.
The campsite was amazing. There were tons of shelters that could accommodate quite a few people. Unlike the Cedar Creek one, this one was far from anywhere you could get a car to, so there was hardly anyone around.
We followed a path from the nice shelters down to the riverside where there was a great swim spot.
There was this guy we kept seeing for a while passing on a bike, literally wearing nothing but a loin cloth, and he was hanging out down there too. We pretended like we didn’t see him and just had a nice swim. There were tons of people going downstream in rafts. A couple of fat fucks were hollering like crazy at one another like they were ready to have an aneurism. Most people just enjoyed the river, but this one guy was just beyond angry and disturbed. It was actually quite comical.
Right around this time, we passed the 100 mile mark of the trail. We were all in double digits from here out. We crossed Virgin Run, which spilled off into the Youghiogheny at a pretty spot, and watched an old mining road or something parallel us on the slope for a while.
It was a long stretch until we reached the towns of Dickerson Run and Liberty, where another bridge crossed over the Yough River. Jen was having trouble with her foot, and so she had to call it quits there. She would try to get an Uber to the end at this point.
From there on out, it was just Justin and I to the end. We kind of joked that we’d killed everyone else.
The town of Liberty was a tiny one. On the north side of the Yough River was Dawson, and this little settlement of Liberty was right by the river.
A few people were hanging around, and a guy on a quad asked if I’d ever been down to the river there, to tell him if he could get his machine down there. I didn’t know, and after a while he passed by us riding it on the trail.
We passed beneath Rt 819, and continued through woods, and I spotted a sign that said “coke ovens”. I went up a path from here, and sure enough found an impressive triangle topped coke oven.
As it turns out, these were some of the oldest of what became known as the Connelsville Coke Ovens. There were once 35,000 of these beehive ovens in operation, which made the Connelsville region the largest producer of coke in the world. The porous coke was made by heating coal in these enclosed furnaces and then hauling it by train to Pittsburgh area for the steel making process.
These old ovens lined the trail for miles, and I kept seeing more of them.
The next settlement we came to was Adelaide. I remembered the name only because Chadwick Stokes of Distpatch wrote a great song by that name. We passed the Uniontown KOA campground on the left, and commented that it was a good thing we didn’t stop to stay there. It was really not that much farther to Connelsville, so it would be easy enough to get to the end.
Adelaide was founded in 1888 by Henry Clay Frick, who named the settlement after his wife. It was once among the most productive of the coke making settlements.
The left edge of the rail bed along the campground was lined with a low fence made of old railroad ties.
We walked through the rest of the settlement, past some old whistle markers, and I tried to get on the grass because my feet were starting to feel really raw. The crushed stone is good for cycling, but it just eats away at the bottoms of my feet. It’s not a really great walking surface through these wider sections closer to towns. I prefer it when it gets narrower and more natural surface.
A little beyond Adelaide, there is a place across the river known as Broad Ford, where there is an abandoned distillery. I’d love to go see it, but we just wouldn’t have the time.
Justin must have been hurting. He’s usually all up for going to all of the little side trips, but he didn’t go to the bridge sites or any of the coke ovens. I took a side trail to where a swinging bridge used to cross the Yough River, and he didn’t go with me there either. It still had some of the wire components all in place.
As we got closer to Connelsville, there was another abandoned rail bridge over the Youghiogheny to the left. I approached it, and was shocked to see that the thing had been partially redecked.
I walked out onto it, and there were good views of the river. The decking stopped around the end of the through truss section of the bridge, and the rest was just ties. I could still cross the rest, and there were guys fishing from some of the piers. Two ladies that had been walking toward me on the trail also turned onto the bridge, and wanted to know where I was coming from and how far I was going. They seemed really interested in the trip. They also told me the decking of this bridge had literally just started that previous week. If we had been there a bit earlier, it still would have been just all ties.
I turned back and then continued on the rail bed toward Connelsville. Justin had gotten just out of sight, but I started to catch up.
A lot more people were using this stretch of the trail, of course because it was getting closer to town.
It wasn’t all that much longer and we approached the opening to Connelsville.
In the distance, the Chestnut Ridge, the westernmost of the main Allegheny ridges, came into view. All of what we had traveled through was less high elevation. This is the section known as the Laurel Highlands.
Beyond here, the Great Allegheny Passage passes through even deeper gorges and probably even more amazing scenery. I almost didn’t want to head back home yet, knowing how amazing it must be just a little further away, as the river turns from calm to more rapids and rocks.
A caboose sat along the trail here, which apparently turns away from the railroad bed as it heads through town. There were several overnight shelters right there, in town of all places, for those going longer distances on the trail. I was rather impressed to see this. Brittany was waiting at one of them when we arrived.
I drove Jen’s car back to get her, as she was not able to get an Uber, and we headed back to town where we stayed at the Comfort Inn literally right on the trail route.
I was really very tired, so it was good to be finished in a lot of ways, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about completing the remaining ninety miles of the Great Allegheny Passage to Cumberland. And then the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal beyond to Washington DC. These are pretty much top of my list for trails I want to finish right now.
It's such a long drive back from places like this, but at this point I’m getting closer all the time. I’d have to do probably two backpacking trips of substantial distance before I’d consider doing the remainder as day hikes, but they’re at least doable from there, and can be loops using the canal and Western Maryland Railroad bed.
Hopefully I’ll be able to get to it soon.