Hike #1221; Bethlehem and Hellertown
5/11/19 Bethlehem and Hellertown with Tea Biscuit (Scott Helbing), Amanda Lance, Justin Gurbisz, James Quinn, Mike Piersa, Jennifer Tull, Carolyn Gockel Gordon, Mr. Buckett (Jim Mathews), Don Mayberry, Buddy V Mayberry, Ellie Zabeth, John DiFiore, Galya, and Jeremy N.
This next hike was a point to point I put together specifically because of the sad demise of the Martin Tower, scheduled to be demolished on May 19th 2019 at 7 am.
Martin Tower from my 2012 hike on South Mountain
I had never really looked at the Martin Tower in Bethlehem as anything all that special, because I had for one never really considered it’s significance.
Martin Tower
Probably more significant, I’d never expected that the tower would ever be gone.
Since it’s completion in 1972, it has dominated the skyline of the Lehigh Valley.
Construction began on Martin Tower in 1968, and ever since it has been the tallest building in the Lehigh Valley at 21 stories, 331 feet.
Named for a former Bethlehem Steel Superintendent, was a symbol of the corporation’s success at the time of it’s completion.
The tower is eight feet higher than the valley’s next tallest building, a power company building in Allentown.
It’s not only the tallest in the Lehigh Valley; apart from those in Philadelphia and Pittsburg, it is the tallest building in Pennsylvania.
In the year following the tower’s completion, Bethlehem Steel had it’s greatest year financially, with highest exports recorded.
Martin Tower
The tower was set up not as a normal standing, box type of skyscraper. It was set up as a sort of cross, or like a plus sign from above. Aside from being architecturally stronger and more interesting, it meant that they had double the amount of corner offices. A different department was housed on each floor.
The inside was no cost spared; it was adorned with wooden paneling and doors they say, personalized with the Bethlehem Steel logo. The woven carpets were treated in the same personalized fashion. I only wish I’d had the chance to see some of this.
This video featuring the inside of Martin Tower and the view from the top was presented by Chris Eline and brought to my attention.
The above video was taken by Chris Eline and sent to me via Metrotrails.
Martin Tower under construction circa 1970
The economic success of Bethlehem Steel didn’t last, and pretty much the entire white collar aspect of it was downsized when the tower was still pretty new.
The tower was intended to be “Martin Towers”; the annex building that seemed out of place off of the bottom of it was constructed to be the connection to a second twin tower for which ground was never broken.
The corporation was slowly failing and downsizing, and other organizations used the tower until it was eventually abandoned in 2006.
Justin finds Jesus
Martin tower has been on the national register of historic places since 2010. As usual, people seem to be dumbfounded by the fact that they can take it down. The fact is, just because a building is on the national register does not protect it. We cannot highlight enough the importance of Grassroots efforts to save our historic structures. We must also elect officials who are not so easily wooed by the promise of investment and ratables from Big Developers. We are seeing it everywhere. Further north, there’s a historic tavern ready to get torn down for highway widening.
Bethlehem Memorial Park
That building, the Cherryville Tavern, had already had a study done that showed that the highway was to be widened on the other side. How something like this happens, I have no clue, but that building is one of the oldest in the county.
Similarly, the historic Newburg Inn, which used to be my favorite restaurant, has closed and is being talked about for demolition.
Around 2013, when everyone learned that the site would be redeveloped in some way, it was thought that Martin Tower would be reused as the epicenter... Restaurant space on top, recreational, residential, retail... and in March we were blindsided with the announcement that it was coming down.
Stone work along the Monocacy
It was agreed upon on Municipal level that the developer would reserve the right to do this should they decide to.
Other articles talk of asbestos remediation, but this has to be done regardless of whether it came down or not. This was presented almost as an excuse.
Another excuse is that they needed to have upgraded sprinkler systems, and that in order to install it would cost more than the cost of demolition. I find it hard to swallow that running pipes through a building should be more costly than taking it down entirely.
Mirror shot
The greenest building is the one that exists. And now we will be taking a structure made of high-grade Bethlehem Steel, set up in a cross Style which makes it that much stronger, filling landfill space with concrete and glass, to be replaced with something that will undeniably be structurally inferior.
It's likely too late for Martin Tower... A building that came the year of the greatest prosperity of Bethlehem Steel, representative of the Pinnacle of the company's achievement.
Illick's Mill
Media let us to believe this structure was safe. Meanwhile, people where surreptitiously dealing, only to make the big announcement when it's too late.
Illick's Mill Park
Imagine as you watch it fall, how nice it would have been to have a meal from a corner window, of which there are 8 on every floor, with an unparalleled view of the Lehigh Valley.
Epic fail.
When our relatives or loved ones are on their death beds, we go to visit them one last time. As if to say goodbye. I do the same for historic and iconic buildings.
The difference with buildings though, is the disease that is claiming them is man.
I talked to my friend Mike Piersa about doing a historic dissertation on some of the stuff in the area, and he was signed up to do the hike, but he got stuck with a building raising he’d been preparing for the past couple of years, so he would have to meet late.
Illick's Mill Park
I’d have to give the dissertation on the Martin Tower as best I could until Mike could meet up.
We met at the end point, the Giant Supermarket on the south side of Hellertown. We would shuttle from there north to our start point, near the Bethlehem Memorial Park cemetery just a bit east of the Monocacy Creek.
I wanted to use a place we wouldn’t have a problem parking after dark, and so I found apartments, cemeteries, and pocket parks that would get there on a reasonably pretty route.
Illick's Mill Park
We parked on Linden Street north of Bethlehem near the Carver House condos. From there, we just walked around a few of the condos, through the grass, and then out the sidewalk from the west end of it to Madison Avenue, where we could just cross and get into the cemetery.
The first part of it must have been military or something, because the tomb stones were all flush with the ground.
We skirted the south side of it, parallel with Heimple Park and Atwood Avenue. Carolyn met up late and parked ahead on Center Street.
Illick's Mill Park
Carolyn headed over to us, and we turned north through the open green lands beyond the cemetery, parallel with Center Street, then out to the same when we got closer to the traffic light at Dewberry Ave. We continued north slightly from there, and then made a left turn down hill on Illick’s Mill Road toward the Monocacy Creek.
There were lovely, tall stone walls along the right side, and a large mansion house above that was still occupied.
When we reached the creek crossing, the beautiful Illick’s Mill was right across from us on the west side.
Illick's Mill Park
The historic four story vernacular grist mill was constructed in 1856. This creek had been a popular place for settlement dating back prior to the American Revolution, and I felt that this historic structure was the perfect place to start a hike focusing on the industrial history of the Bethlehem area.
I’d hiked this area many times before, and gone by the mill many times, but didn’t really feel much for it until we did the hike to Riverfusion in May of 2009.
For that hike, I’d re-done the lower Lehigh Canal section from Phillipsburg/Easton to Bethlehem, with the idea of it ending at a show by State Radio that was to benefit the mill’s restoration, at Jillane’s request.
With Chad Stokes after the State Radio show at Illick's Mill, 2009
I’d only heard State Radio from Jillane playing it, and I thought the songs were pretty good. I didn’t realize that the front man was Chad Stokes from Dispatch, whom I’d first heard in art class in high school. I don’t think I’d even realized it the first time I saw State Radio.
Illick's Mill Park
I thought the show was amazing. The band blew me away, and I became a much bigger fan from then. My old buddy Kyle Zalinsky called out to front man Chad Stokes after the show, and we were able to meet and get a picture with him. When I told him we’d hiked seventeen miles to get there he said “You gotta be fucking kidding me....”.
The last time I talked to him in Woodstock two years ago I showed him the picture, and he laughed and told me it looked like it was taken in the eighties. It was a great meeting, and Illick’s Mill was saved.
Illick's Mill Park
Not only is the mill in great shape today, it is now host to different events and local meeting spot for the Lehigh Valley sub chapter of the Appalachian Mountain Club’s Delaware Valley group, which used to meet at the Friends Meeting House on 512 to the east.
Crossing the Monocacy
We turned to the right into the park, and and followed the Monocacy Creek up stream for a bit on very nice walkways, and past a pavilion where there were people picnicking.
Carolyn made a comment about eating their food if they left, which was something we did not knowing it was not discarded at a similar Saucon Park picnic we’d visited on a Musikfest hike a while back.
There was a beautiful old bridge with stone pillars holding the suspension cables just before we got to a pretty dam over the creek.
Illicks Mill Park
The stone work, walkways, and bridges of Illick’s Mill Park were a WPA project in the 1930s.
WPA, or Works Progress Administration, I explained to everyone, was set up by Roosevelt in 1935, in the worst year of the Great Depression, mostly to put unskilled men to work on bridge, road, park, and many other projects throughout the country.
It’s a very different kind of industrial history than that of the Illick’s Mill more than three quarters of a century later. Rather than the mill, which was work to produce product that was needed, the WPA was creating product to produce work.
Illick's Mill Park
We paused on the bridge for a bit of history, and continued to the other side. We then turned to the left to follow the creek down stream.
WPA bench project base
I enjoyed some wine, for which I brought my wine glass, and we passed by a bench with the “WPA” letters made into the edge of it’s base.
The park followed a wider flood plain on the west side, and we soon passed by the old Illick’s Mill again.
The trail continues on the other side of Illick’s Mill Road into Monocacy Nature Center, a nice little park with various trails.
It was a really muddy time to be on these. There was no avoiding any of it. We followed one out to the edge of the creek, just to see it, and backtracked to the main route.
Illick's Mill Park
The trail continued on through nice woods for a while, and got super muddy. Tea Biscuit and Don went up to follow the parallel former Bethlehem Branch of the Lehigh and New England Railroad, still active in this area, rather than deal with the mud.
Soon, the trail crossed the tracks anyway and continued on their west side, somewhat closely parallel.
To the right of us, there were soon high old quarry walls through the trees. This entire area was quarried to a great extent.
Illick's Mill
I wonder if any of the quarrying had anything to do with the WPA projects, or if they were mostly earlier. There was also a concrete ruin along the edge ahead to the right.
Illick's Mill Park
The trail continued on with some wetlands separating us from the tracks for a bit to the right.
There was a park area to the right of us with mowed pathways, which I had never used on a hike before, but Tea Biscuit knew it. He pointed out to Amanda that this was someplace they had taken their dogs before.
We eturned to the edge of the tracks and emerged on Schoenersville Road. Here, we took the side trip to head over to the Martin Tower. The viewing area I had in mind for it was a route we had followed to get to Monocacy Creek from many past Musikfest hikes.
Monocacy Way
We turned right on the right, crossed, and followed a slope next to a chained in power thingy. Then, as we reached a slope that used to be mowed in years past, we climbed up on a deer trail to the former parking lot of the Martin Tower.
We moved on closer where we could see twisted pieces of red steel laying strewn around the parking area.
I think a lot of this was probably what was left of the former annex building. We had a very good, clear view of the tower.
Ruins on Monocacy Way
When everyone got together, I started going over it’s history. I was a bit wary of it, especially with newcomers, because a lot of people feel strongly against the removal of the tower, but other people, including many friends, are celebrating it.
The way I see it, it’s a symbol of the past, not a blemish on our record. It’s where we were. It’s not even a scar that tells a story, but a piece of what’s left of a story. It’s more tangible, a reclaimed version of it that’s healed over.
Many feel that it was a symbol of greed and crooked corporate business, while others feel it was a good business for the city, giving money for roads, hospitals, and the like.
Martin Tower
I speak to many of the former employees regularly; one guy walks his dog in the park where I work almost daily, and they speak of their former employers quite lovingly.
Giving historic dissertation; photo by John DiFiore
I suppose an engineer might have a greater love for the place than someone in the trenches working with molten steel, but regardless of any of that, it was part of our history.
Furthermore, the building is still standing and the marketability of the structure is just out of this world.
I’ve had no interest in watching the building fall to the ground on live TV, internet, or in person. I’ll see it. It will be inevitable not to. It will show up on news feeds everywhere. To me though, it’s a sad thing. It’s a failure. It’s land that will be reclaimed by garbage lacking in character or value. Chains that I can visit anywhere. Annoying apartment residents who complain about the rain and look out their windows to see generic shrubs, ADA accessible sidewalks and non noxious plantings.
This demolition to me is murder of the thrill to be alive by experiencing that which is different. Celebrate it’s fall all you want, but by doing so you celebrate the rise of Generica.
Martin Tower and it's entrails
We made our way back down hill from here, the same way we had come in, and reached the entrance to the Burnside Plantation. A dirt driveway leads back to the historic site.
Johnson Barn at Burnside Plantation
The Burnside Plantation was a five hundred acre tract of land deeded to James Burnside of Georgia who settled in this area in 1747.
The original homestead building was constructed in 1748, and expanded upon greatly in 1818. The farm retains much of the ambiance of the early 1800s. The Johnson Barn is also prominent on the site, as well as several out buildings.
As with many early settlers, there was a lot of issue with churches, and defecting from churches, changes of denominations and such, and so there was some of that here as well.
Johnston Barn with Martin Tower looming behind
Still, upon the death of Burnside’s wife, she donated it to the Moravian Church. It was then run as a Moravian church plantation for many years.
When the area was getting heavily developed, the last remaining acreage of the plantation was preserved by the city as a historical site.
The trail turns away form the main road through the plantation and passes beneath a line of Weeping Willows that hang so low that they caress your hair as you walk beneath. We then came to a good outlook of the farmstead.
Burnside Plantation with Martin Tower in view
I pointed out where on the side of the homestead you could still see the original shape of the frame, and where it was expanded upon. Behind the house and barn, the Martin Tower loomed over in stark contrast with the antiquated structures of the plantation.
Lehigh and New England branch toward Allentown
The development calls for all sorts of retail and apartments filling out more of the land than what the Martin Tower currently takes up. I can only imagine what atrocity will further mess up the ambiance of the Burnside Plantation for one, and the amount of impervious surface that will worsen the already bad flooding conditions along the Monocacy Creek.
We continued on the trail, Monocacy Way, which follows the creek to the south. It wasn’t too long before we crossed the abandoned branch of the Lehigh and New England Railroad that connected out to Allentown.
Monocacy wetlands
The tracks are still in along this route, but can get pretty tough to follow. I’ve done it a couple of times, and not a bit of it is easy.
We continued to the south a bit more, and came to a small tributary that flows into the Monocacy Creek. The trail crosses a former rail bridge site, which was a wye off of the Lehigh and New England here.
The bridge that carries the trail was redecked some time around 2008, and the one that was next to it always used to be just steel girders.
Old rail bridge site
The girders of the old bridge have since been removed, and only abutments remain.
Monocacy Way
The water below the foot bridge section looked deeper and clearer than I’d remembered it. Tea Biscuit suggested that I could jump into it, and I considered it for a moment. I probably will do it some time in the future, but not this time.
I had gotten some Tomasello wine and he’d gotten two bottles of Nineteen Crimes, including the bourbon barrel aged one, which was great. So we were feeling pretty good.
We continued along the trail to the south, weaving along the Monocacy Creek until it started to make it’s way up onto a good, long boardwalk section that heads up to it’s end on Union Boulevard.
Monocacy Way
To continue along the Monocacy Creek, we had to go left on Union Blvd, and then cross the creek on the road, then turn right along the creek parallel with a parking area.
Love
We followed along the edge of the creek heading downstream through the town area. There were lots of parking areas and people wandering around.
Monocacy Creek, Bethlehem
We continued beneath the behemoth concrete Broad Street Bridge, which spans the entire valley over the Monocacy Creek. The closed spandrel arch structure was completed in 1909, and replaced the earlier deck girder span at the same site.
The edges of the creek were lined with nice little stone walls, and old spots intended to be to access the creek. It was all old Olmstead Bros style landscape architecture.
We soon got to the Broad Street Bridge, a closed-spandrel arch completed in 1909.
Pre 1909 Broad Street Bridge
The 1909 structure replaced an earlier high bridge of deck girder construction.
Broad Street Bridge shortly after it's completion
We continued under the bridge to the historic mill areas where some of the largest crowds are found during Musikfest every August.
Broad Street Bridge
The road gave way to pedestrian paths through the historic district along the Monocacy Creek dominated by the old Luchenbach Flour Mills. One building partially stands in ruins in front of a larger structure. Several old stone mill buildings add to the ambiance of the area.
We continued on beneath part of the Hill to Hill Bridge, which has an odd design that splits in two on the north side, to the old Bethlehem Water works, where the first drinking water supply was pumped up from the Monocacy Creek to serve the town starting in about 1762.
Access along the Monocacy
The water works is said to be the first public water works in America.
The entire city is quite historic, dating back to 1741 when David Nitschmann and Count Nicolaus von Zinzindorf found the Moravian missionary community among the native Americans and unchurched German Christians of the area. The town was of course named after Bethlehem of Judea, and it continued to thrive with it’s industrialization. The water powered grist and saw mills of old gave way to the large scale mills, culminating with Bethlehem Steel opening in 1857.
Luchenbach's Flour Mill ruins
The site actually didn’t start out as “Bethlehem Steel”.
The site was first known as Bethlehem Iron Company, and Saucona Iron Company.
There was an overlap of two years where the Bethlehem Iron Company leased land to Bethlehem Steel Company around 1899 till 1901, and the Bethlehem Steel Corporation came into existence in 1904.
Heading toward the waterworks
The site was in continuous operation, but basically was associated with and reorganized under different names and companies.
We continued along past the old water works building and checked out the historic interpretive signs, then started heading up the steps on the other side of the Hill to Hill Bridge when I realized we should stay low.
Instead, we used a rather new pedestrian bridge to span to Monocacy Creek, and walked a little further to the west to climb the stairs to the bridge, which we usually do during Musikfest.
Luchenbach's Mills
The Hill to Hill Bridge has always been probably my favorite of the Bethlehem bridges. I like the Minsi Trail bridge because of the view of Bethlehem Steel, and the Fahy Bridge for it’s interesting design and views, but it was the completion of the Hill to Hill Bridge in 1924 that symbolized the merging of the independent municipalities, Bethlehem and South Bethlehem, into one city.
The Hill to Hill Bridge is named for it’s connections between Fountain Hill and Seminary Hill. When completed, it had a whopping nine approaches, where now it arguably only has four.
Historic waterworks
It was significantly altered as traffic changed with automobiles around the 1940s.
Prior to this bridge, there was a covered bridge just below that spanned the Central Railroad of New Jersey and crossed the Lehigh Canal on the north side, and crossed both Lehigh Valley Railroad and Reading Railroad on the south side. There was a hotel at the south side as well.
The bridge was prone to flooding and damage, and a new bridge was needed long before construction began in 1921.
Hill to Hill Bridge
We got to the top of the stairs, whre we had a pretty good view down to the former Central Railroad of New Jersey railroad station, now a very nice bar and restaurant.
South side with the hotel, Lehigh Valley Railroad, and Reading Railroad
We then crossed the Lehigh Canal, and continued across the Lehigh. The banner sign with the temperature and time was still there, same as when I first walked over it.
CNJ Station
Once on the other side of the bridge, we turned to the left and traced a little bit of what used to be the Bethlehem Branch of the Reading Railroad, also known as the North Penn Branch.
The first time I walked this bit, there were still rails on it. It’s pretty weird to see it today like it is.
I went down to where I knew I’d stood on a hike around 2007, looking down the abandoned tracks, and tried to get a comparison then and now photo. The tracks through most of South Bethlehem on the Reading have been gone for some time, but that bit used to remain.
At the time, the rest of it was just grass, and the rails were still visible in the roads. Now, most of that is gone, and when the greenway ends, it’s just a load of weeds.
Historic image of the old covered bridge
We headed down the street a little bit where I planned for our dinner stop to be at Lehigh Pizza, an establishment I’ve always loved because they have more Jersey like pizza.
Lehigh Canal view
If that were not enough, they also carry beer. In the past, I was able to get a Four Loco there, but I have been usually steering clear of that stuff unless there’s nothing else and I happen to want something strong.
Much to my surprise, they now carried all sorts of really good craft beers.
They had some great looking taco pizza out, so I absolutely had to try some of that, and when I looked at the beers they had to offer, they had a very interesting looking one by Southern Tier called Black Water Thick Mint Imperial Stout. It sounded too good not to try.
Fahy Bridge and the Lehigh
Of course, it was absolutely excellent.
We had a nice long break and enjoyed ourselves, and Mike Piersa gave me a call when we were in the area. He was going to meet us up on the elevated walkway along the tracks of the small rail lines on the coke furnaces.
We finished up our food and started heading out in that direction.
We turned to the left after the pizza place, and then headed down the street toward the Sands Casino area in what used to be more of Bethlehem Steel.
We passed by the Museum of Industrial History to the right, which occupies one of the old buildings, and continued through an area that has the feel of a fortress.
This was the Iron Foundry of South Bethlehem, more of Bethlehem Steel.
Previously, it was the Bessemer Steel Mill. It contained the Bessemer Converters that converted iron to steel. Built 1868-1873. First steel made was in 1873.
John Fritz was in charge of construction, which took a long time because he wanted it tohave the look of an industrial cathedral.
Yums
The building originally extended an unprecedented 931 feet long.
We walked along a lot of this, and then reached the stairs up to the walkway along the steel stacks.
This is known as the Hoover Mason Trestle. It was used as a narrow gauge railway below the steel stacks to deliver limestone, coke, and iron to the facility.
At the top, the narrow gauge rails are still visible. At times, the walkway is above the rails making them invisible, but it moves from side to side so that the original infrastructure can still be seen and interpreted. The site is intended to be part museum, part recreation, part regional attraction.
The walkway is 46 feet off the ground, and follows 2000 feet of the former industrial railway along the stacks and industrial site.
The Bessemer Steel Mill
Mike was waiting for us when we arrived at the place to give us historic dissertations on the site. Don and Tea Biscuit missed the first part because they were walking their dogs below.
Bessemer Steel
We looked across and could see buildings all around, and Mike went into detail about everything we were looking at.
Across from us was the Central Tool building with a road to the right, and to the right of that, theCentral Tool Annex.
Many of these buildings still remain vacant on the site.
Just above us, the steel stacks towered above. To the naked eye, and to most looking at them, they all seem to be identical stacks, just abandoned there and subject to rust, but when Mike started explaining the differences and the years they were built, we could see the differences.
Central Tool and Central Tool Annex
Bethlehem Steel stacks, at the downcomer and dust collector for A furnace and the stoves for B furnace. B furnace dated to 1954, and dominated view with their three cylinder shapes.
Arches
I feel that one of the most significant points, before going on too far with this, is that the longevity of the “museum” pieces we were seeing is not guaranteed.
Steel Stacks
First, the steel stacks themselves are to a great degree thinner metal, and very subject to rust. I wonder how long they can last without being sand blasted and fully restored. It’s only a matter of time before they are weakened enough that, knowing government, they will have to close them off.
Maybe that’s the plan, by giving the public a taste of them, they’ll latch onto it and vote to allocate whatever funds necessary to save them for their recreational benefit.
Hoover Mason Trestle
The next point is that the Sands Casino is not going to be around that much longer. I found it shocking, but apparently the Wind Creek company will be taking over some of the site to the east.
While I’m not a fan of gambling in the least bit, and it’s strange to see Sands just leaving when it’s not all that old at all, it looks like we might see another historic remnant re-purposed...to an indoor water park! Story here:
Downcomer for furnace A, stoves for furnace B
I would love to see more of the original infrastructure preserved, and rumor has it the new owners are more into historic preservation than the Sands, but time will tell.
The oldest furnace
It will be interesting to see all of the changes coming to the south side when the takeover happens.
Mike went on with history, and pointed out the oldest of the furnaces on the site.
This was A furnace. It was put into operation in 1915 on the site of the old #2 furnace. The original furnaces from the site occupied the same locations roughly, and most of the current stack infrastructure is post-1900.
Mike explained that this one went out of operation a bit earlier on, but that despite the want, they could not demolish this one because it would mess up the structural integrity of the adjacent furnaces.
Don and Tea Biscuit returned to us in this area and joined for the rest of the steel tour.
We walked along the top, and Mike told us exactly what the components were we were looking at at each of the furnaces. There were ladders up everything.
Sparklers!
I would love to climb up some of that stuff to have a look around. I’d walked around the bases of these structures with Skyler Jermyn around 2005 when there was no public access. We dressed up on matching jump suits and carried clip boards just to go and have a look at the place.
Apparently at some point, someone did climb up the stacks after crossing the fence and had to be taken down from there.
It would be hard to get away with it I’d think now, because the entire length of the trestle has cameras in place. Lights are also installed on the old overheads, which is neat.
A rave going on across from Hoover Mason Trestle
Music was thumping away loudly from the building across from us. We could see right inside the windows, and it was apparently a night club. There were people dancing around like crazy inside. The prospect of going over there and hanging out was brought up, but we shot that down in favor of continuing to walk.
Justin did manage to light up a sparkler while we were up there.
We moved along, and the walkway shifted from one side to the other, revealing more of the old railway beneath.
Hoover Mason Trestle
Ahead, there were some old cars still sitting on some of these rails to the right.
Side dump transfer car
This is a "Side Dump Transfer Car." Located on the old elevated railway that served Bethlehem Steel. It is 7'10 1/2 inch gauge.
Unless looking at it closely, it appeared to just be a stationary type of thing.
To the right, there was a long building just full of fly wheels, which looked amazing. There is, as I understand, no effort currently to save it. I would love to see them do something to work around those amazing pieces. There’s nowhere else anyone can walk around such things.
Hoover Mason Trestle
We were treated ahead with a view of Blast Furnace E. The surviving iteration was built in 1959. It was the last of the new furnaces to be built on site.
Hoover Mason Trestle
I previously had no idea that any new industrial infrastructure was developed that late in the live of Bethlehem Steel.
Along the walkway and old rail line that served the Bethlehem Steel stacks, we saw the air intake stack for the blowing engines. The air that came through this stack eventually got blown into the blast furnaces. This was just above the building full of the old fly wheels.
We moved along and passed another of the old dump cars, and then reached the stairs that headed down from the trestle.
We continued from that way toward the Sands Casino area, but I didn’t know the route we should take to continue on.
My original plan was not to continue much through Sands, but rather to climb to the cemetery to the south side of town and see the Martin Tower from afar. Unfortunately, it was getting far too dark, and we wouldn’t be able to see anything of the unlit tower there.
Intake stack
I decided at about that point that we would instead follow the old Reading Railroad’s Bethlehem Branch for some of the time, and deviate from it enough to get over to the site of the old Saucon Iron Works, later Thomas Ironworks, to keep with the industrial history of the area. Heading over the South Mountain could prove treacherous if done in the dark, because it’s all mountain biking trails that just go all over the place and are far too confusing.
I knew where we’d get on the Bethlehem Branch, but I turned it over to Mike to decide which route we would take passing through the Sands Casino area first, and I’m quite glad we did.
There are a lot of places out there with historic significance that really no one has a clue about, and some of them I’ve driven by personally several times without ever even considering it.
Historic press
Mike led us to this giant light blue or grey thing with a sign reading “Safety Involves Teamwork”, which looks like it was just something of a sign erected by the casino. There was no historic marker, no nothing around it.
However, this was a 7,000 ton bending press. Built by Whitworth in England in the late 1880s, it now serves as a sign for motorists to the casino. It could bend armor plate, cold, 18 inches thick.
I was blown away that there was not a signle sign on this thing to tell anyone of it’s significance, but still appreciative of the fact that it was there and not scrapped like what happens at so many other places.
We next headed toward the Minsi Trail Bridge, and headed over along a building where we saw an enormous old cannon simply sitting on the ground, again with no historic marker.
Historic press
This gun was created at Bethlehem Steel in 1919 for the USS Mississippi. It served the US Navy during the Battle of Leyte Gulf in World War II.
Unlike other historic structures affiliated with Bethlehem Steel, this gun is safe, because it is still property of the US Navy. The National Canal Museum of Easton serves as trustee for the gun.
It doesn’t look like the gun is going anywhere, because it had to be moved to where it sits today by rail, and there doesn’t appear to be any way of doing that now. The Canal Museum doesn’t have space for it, nor is it appropriate there.
Big cannon
In this area, we could also see the historic #3 High House. It is also called #3 Treatment. The towering structure is right next to the Minsi Trail Bridge.
I really feel like this building defines a lot of the industrial look of Bethlehem Steel, but the casino I understand is under no obligation to keep it or any of the other historic structures at the site.
I would love to petition the state to try to preserve some of it, but I found out the hearing for it is in Harrisburg, and it’s not exactly easy for me to be able to head out for something like that.
Still, I’d like to possibly say something about it, through whatever media makes most sense.
Tea Biscuit and Amanda had to cut out at this point, and so Don and Buddy went with them.
#iSpyVic
We decided to walk through the parking garage at the Sands and get weird looks from people coming out to make our way to the former Reading Railroad.
The history tour didn’t end just then; Mike noticed a pipe coupling above us, and made us away of a hash tag they use when one of their couplings is seen somewhere:
#iSpyVic
The Victaulic Couplings company is local to Bethlehem, where we saw these, has two foundries in the Lehigh Valley, employs unionized Steelworkers, and is celebrating their 100th anniversary this year, 2019.
With the big cannon
It's nice to know some of this historic employers are still going strong. The Lehigh Valley has a rich steel history.
We made our way up hill and across Rt 512 to reach the former Reading Railroad branch, next to the skate park.
Much of the greenway has been completed through this area, where in the past it was a bit tougher to get through.
We turned left on it, and although it had light posts, it was pretty dark. Mike was planning on turning back at some point, but we convinced him to stay on. We had enough water to share with him.
History up on the walkway
We followed the railroad bed past the big washout at the end of the active railroad yard. There are still cars parked on that section, but now it’s all fenced off. When I started hiking this, there were no fences there, and we used to go and climb all over the old railroad cars.
After crossing Saucon Creek, we saw that they had finally put a fence around the base of the big tower that sits in the right of way ahead to keep people from climbing it. Justin and Lerch went to the top of it a couple of years ago on a Musikfest hike.
When we got to where the trail ended, there was a connection out to the right. There is an industrial site built on the right of way ahead. It used to be really easy to continue through, but now it’s gotten much more difficult, especially in the dark. I was already planning on this, and so we walked down into the lovely Saucon Park to the right, and headed to the area with the pavilions.
Historic image at the opening of Saucon Park
Saucon Park opened July 4, 1919, with a speech by Mayor Archibald Johnston. The park is 90 acres following the Saucon Creek. Within the first year, over 10,000 people visited the park!
Hoover Mason Trestle
It was a very pleasant walk through the park, along the waterway lined with stones beyond a little foot bridge.
We walked around the ball field area and were soon out to Route 78 underpass. At that point, the road curves away, and we had to make our way along the Saucon Creek south, which can get a little tricky.
It’s a lot easier to follow this from the other direction, because the trail peters out at the north end, but I knew I could find it regardless.
Hoover Mason Trestle and dump cars
Everyone followed me into the woods sort of blindly when I knew where we needed to go, but even I made a slightly wrong turn. There is a field that separates the river and the road, and trenches of water in between that we would not want to cross. First, I accidentally got on the path on the west side of the field rather than the east, so even though I led everyone correctly into open woods to where we got on a trail, we went the wrong direction. Fortunately, we just turned the opposite way and were soon on our way. We got back along the Saucon Creek and started going south.
Hoover Mason Trestle scene
The path led us along clearly, but somewhat slippery, until we came out to Seidersville Road, which is abandoned at the point of the old truss bridge over the Saucon Creek.
With the cannon
On the west side, where we emerged, there is an old large size spring house we usually go in, but this time it was blocked off by fencing, another new development I did not expect to see.
We continued across the old road bridge, and on the other side immediately turned to the right on another foot path following the Saucon Creek down stream.
This path deviates into a few different ones, and we followed the most prominent one into the wide open moonscape full of slag and refuse, the former site of the Saucon Ironworks, and later the Thomas Ironworks.
Saucon Ironworks
I pointed out the oddness of some of the rocks, and then we moved on along the widest path.
Saucon Ironworks
The route from here was a wider gravel road, which emerged again along the old Reading Railroad branch, a trail again at this point. We simply turned right to continue.
Early 1900s view of men working the Saucon site
We were now in Hellertown, and parallel with a wider park area. We continued along on the trail, crossed grade crossings, and just had a pleasant walk back toward the end.
The sign likely to soon change...
We crossed over the Saucon Creek on a girder bridge just barely to the south of town and continued into the darkness on the Saucon Rail Trail.
Martin Tower
We just had a bit further from here to go before turning off to the Giant Supermarket by way of Meadows Road, the very next crossing.
I was glad to have seen so much history on this one and learned so much from Mike’s talk, but kind of sad that I didn’t get to see more of the Martin Tower.
There was still, to me, a little more hope that the thing might be left up. I really had no interest in watching it’s destruction live. It felt wrong. It felt like an execution.
Part of me wondered if it would even fall when they set off the charges; after all, it was built with high grade steel.
There was so much that could have been done with this structure. It just eats me up.
I left for backpacking vacation with Jillane the following Friday, and on Sunday morning I received a video from Justin of the tower’s implosion, and could only shake my head and wonder who could possibly benefit from such blatant destruction of useful infrastructure.
Bethlehem has lost a hub of potential with the loss of the Martin Tower. I wonder how long it will be before people realize what an epic failure this was. I don’t think long.
HAM
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