The keystone state

The mountains of northeastern Pennsylvania are gorgeous. I've driven through them, along route 81, in the autumn, when the fall foliage is truly awe-inspiring, with vistas that make you thank god you can see. In mid-spring the vistas are lushly green, the green-to-blue laps of hills broken up by big valleys dotted with farms and spread with cities (Scranton, Wilkes Barre), and they, the mountains, seem endless. Indeed, they are called the Endless Mountains.

And they are big. Lots of steep inclines, with lanes to the right for the laboring trucks. On my trip from Maine, I had counted myself very lucky not to have encountered any road construction at all, with concomitant delays, until shortly before Binghamton (New York, where I stayed with my friends overnight). But on the haul through the mountains, over the line in Pennsylvania, there were several such construction sites. Generally there were no real delays, at least not once I learned the importance of being in the far-left lane as we approached a threatened "split lanes." The construction mess would be in the middle, so you would either have to go up in the fast lane, the left lane, or be stuck in the truck lane, quite possibly behind a line of trucks.

I found the rock you could see as you drove along this highway that had been blasted through the mountains interesting. Very different from the gray granite that is everywhere visible in Maine and New Hampshire (the latter is called the Granite State, but both could be). In Pennsylvania I was looking at a dark, muddy brown rock that was sometimes even reddish. Looming above you, it can look very brooding. Consulting an EPA web site on the "physiography" of Pennsylvania I find that what I was probably looking at were black and red shale, predominate rocks of the state. I've sometimes said that in my next life I plan to be an archeologist (strapping and healthy enough to pursue such a rugged career). But what I might do with the other half of that other life is be a geologist, because I am fascinated by the workings of the earth, and the by-products of those workings, such as mountains. One of the most fascinating places I've ever visited in my life is the Grand Canyon, with its layers of rock millions of years old.

Another thing that interests me is how, despite all the mountains, Pennsylvania is full of farms. The web site I referred to a few Notes back (June 9), that shows the location of farms in an area, shows quite a few, even up around Scranton, famous (or infamous) for all its now-defunct coal mines. In that same Note I mentioned that Bucknell University, in the town of Lewisburg, is in the heart of farm country. The driving directions I had had me leaving major Highway 80 a bit sooner than necessary; but that meant that I took the scenic route the last 20 miles or so, driving right past all these attractive, healthy-looking farms.

But speaking of coal mines, you can actually visit one at Scranton, the Lackawanna Coal Mine Tour. If I had the opportunity to do this I probably would, simply because I rarely turn down a chance to do something I've never done before (one exception I can think of was water ski – I knew all I would do was keep falling in the water, and that didn't seem like my idea of fun), but I think such a tour would be grim. Descending into the depths of the earth is, to my mind, a grim business anyway – it's dark! all sorts of dangers lurk! (would this argue against a career as a geologist?) – but a coal mine represents one of the harshest industries in the world, that has taken such a toll on the men who have labored in it, as well as their families, as well as the earth itself. An evil necessity, not a positive good.

Now Scranton has spruced up its downtown, is home to the New York Yankees' training team, the Scranton-Wilkes Barre Yankees, and is trying to build up its tourist trade with things like coal mine tours. It's always amused me the way places endeavor to turn whatever they were known for, good or bad, into a draw for tourists. I think of Salem, Massachusetts, deciding to exploit its unsavory history as the home of the Salem witchcraft hysteria and trials. Or what about Alcatraz Prison, inviting folks in to see this place that was the scene of so much misery. Yes, well.

Someone told me Pennsylvania has the highest percentage of white supremacists of any state in the country. Could that be true? I thought it was Idaho. I've always thought of Pennsylvania, when I've thought of it at all, as a predominately working-class state -- coal miners in the mountains, steel-workers in the cities -- but I've never associated it particularly with skinheads, or farmers. What we don't know...

Pennsylvania might not be someplace where I would want to live, but it is certainly beautiful to drive through. And probably worth knowing more about.