Knoebels, More Stuff

Continuing...
One thing that has me inordinately mad about Knoebels is that they started to build what seems like the potential for the most awesome wooden rollercoaster ever... and then they stopped. It was called The Flying Turns, and it's a coaster without a track. Instead the car will go through a sled like series of bends and luges making the ride slightly different with the weight displacement and OH MY GOD HOW AWESOME DOES THAT SOUND. It was set to open this year, and instead sits a half finished hulk.

There's a lot of explanations on their website about how they didn't anticipate the difficulties of designing a ride like this and.... whatever. I will personally kidnap a hoard of physicists and steal a few copies of CAD for them to figure this one out. No excuses, dammit, this must be completed and I must ride with the 20 fattest men I can find to get the full gravity effect.

Alright... Calming down. On the brighter side, they have a ridiculous number of hurdy gurdys and carusol music makers around the park. You know, the ones which play Sousa marches with the figurines in front. Sadly, the makers were never allowed to see a woman before carving one, so they substituted the face of their uncle Ned.

Also, they hadn't seen one unclothed, so they just winged that one.


And, in the one last awesome thing category, see if you can remember this water fountain:
There were literally dozens of these around when I was a kid in the eighties. I remember zebras, tigers, bears and Mr. Lion here. It makes me so happy to see he's still around. Not that I'd stick my head in there to drink if I was paid, that's just nasty and some kid probably slobbered all over the faucet, but still, it's good it exists.

Glen Onoko

Beautiful destination and tourist trap shouldn't go hand in hand, but sometimes that's how it goes. As a fan of hiking and nature, you take what you can get.

Glen Onoko is the name of a series of hiking trails located at the Lehigh River Gap, in a state park. All the way up at the top of the mountain, there's a freezing cold natural spring which feeds a river which spills over full waterfalls, tumbling little gushes and huge wide wading areas. Climbing the mountain, each section of the river is more gorgeous than the last, and the top falls are a full 75 feet high. Through the summer, the area puts up a great show of flowers and foliage, and the river at the bottom is full of people swimming, kayaking and white water rafting. Along the way up, you'll come to a lot of areas where people wade, picnic and take breaks. There's also some notable rock formations, like Pulpit Rock, which is a huge standing stone split in two down the middle. Over the years, it's become a popular place for people to leave their name behind, and buried among the garish, recent graffiti, you can find small chilseled areas with dates back to the turn of the century, along with faux "Indian" carvings.

Of course, the fact that there's an astounding natural phenomena hiding in the hills wasn't enough for some people, so in the early twentieth century a railroad tourist promoter dreamed up an "ancient Indian legend" to apply to the place. Love stricken Indian princess, Indian Brave thrown off a cliff, and the weeping girl turned into a waterfall, yaddah yaddah. It's been so locally repeated that it exists in some history books and has sort of been grandfathered in as a pseudofact.

What is true is that there used to be a fantastic, secluded palace of a hotel at the base of the mountain (think The Shining), named Hotel Wahnetah, which opened in 1886. It was once the vacation resort of the rich and elite looking to escape the city. It featured 56 rooms, tennis courts, manicured stone lined mountain paths, and a dance pavillion. Essentially, you could relax in regal style, but claim you were "roughing it". Back then, the trail was a much easier climb--it was maintained with bridges spanning the water, making it the climb of the elite. The hotel burned to the ground in 1911, and the tourist industry has only recently started to recover.

What is also true is that the area is positively deadly. The trails sometimes snake upwards at a vicious angle, and a lot of the danger comes from climbers ahead of you who dislodge rocks that come plummeting down the hill picking up deadly speed. Through some areas, you can even find yourself climbing more with your hands and knees through the eroded trail, overused trail. Depending on your path, you walk up narrow areas with sheer drops to one side, and sometimes slick rocks. Invariably, you'll see some poor person who was expecting a civilized walking trail completely unprepared for the hike. I've personally sat at the bottom of the hill and watched people coming in on buses with brand new work out gear on (complete with tiny little leg weights), or alternatively wearing shorts and flip flops. Suffice it to say, they usually give up halfway up the mountain.

Before I seem flippant, let me point out that I was actually up the mountain with a hiking companion who fell off a cliff and had to be carried down the hill by a medical team and evacuated by helicopter. (Yes, I took a picture) I also personally know the families of several people who have lost their lives hiking around there. A misstep is easy to make even for good hikers and can have life long ramifications. Still, I stood with the EMTs as they told stories of unprepared hikers and their grievous injuries even as people walked around us completely unprepared for the hike. I sort of blame the tourist promoters.

All color photos taken by my sister, the Little Photographer who Could.

NAH NAH nah nah na na nah nah naah---

Every now and again I worry about my decision to try to do a daily blog featuring Pennsylvania oddities. Can I keep up with this for any period of time? I think.

And then the heavens open, the gods smile and I drive past Batman Road.

Here it is in Google Maps, in case you don't believe me. The best part is, Batman Road become Batman Drive further down.

This was literally the only sign for this street along the length--otherwise its unmarked because the signs were a high risk for theft. Definitely a sign I can see hanging over some college frat boys bed.

Sadly, Batman Road is mostly occupied by ranch houses, empty fields that have seen better days and citizens who don't appreciate 'why so serious' jokes. You know someone along there is so touchy about it they try to mispronounce the name when they give out their address. "Oh no, it's Batmin"

I recently found out about the existence of this archival picture, and I'm now obsessed with it. See if you can blame me:
That would be Superman, one of the REAL Supermans (Reeves of the George variety) serving what appears to be a huge portion of mashed potatoes to excited, hairbowed lunch ladies with paper collars. Yeah. Look at his expression, he's so congenial, isn't he? So not seeming like the kind of guy who would kill himself. And I love the hand reaching in from the front from an off-camera woman who apparently doesn't care so much about being starstuck as getting her lunch in a side dish already, dammit.

The women are obviously workers at Hess's, which was an old Grand Dame department store which existed until 1994. My memories of it are from its last days, but pretty much anyone from the Allentown area will instantly recognize the logo on those scalloped collars instantly.

From what I can tell, George Reeves made two appearances at Hess's, once in March of 1955 and once in August of 1956. This would have probably been the flagship store in Allentown, as it was the only location at the time. He was on a publicity spree at the height of the show's popularity. Whoever planned his outings relied heavily on the shopping locations, but it was one of his sprees at Hess's that ended with him posing for pictures for a promotional article which appeared in People Today.
I'm not sure if the mashed potato picture is from this same visit, but it has its own fabulous pictures, and a delightfully fifties style write-up to go with. Apparently, in addition to selling shoes, they made him heft around piles of empty boxes in a show of faux strength, and push racks of clothing really fast. He's described as wearing "super clothes" and his appearance is said to have "enchanted mothers and moppets alike". Cue your favorite episode of Mad Men to see the type who came up with that line read.

Then, to really mess with the minds of the public, they had him do the deliveries for the day, fulfilling both the necessities of degrading publicity work and cheap manual labor for a while.
The day apparently ended suddenly when "Supe" (yes, they actually call him Supe) trips over a tricycle and skins his knee. If you know Allentown I'm not surprised its Superman was brought down by mere children's toys..

A fabulous picture link can be found off of the blog of Studio Ruthe, (whose website is fabulously named "fat old artist") It's a collection of some of the more fantastic towers to be found around Pittsburgh. The mirrored PPG Building pictures are awesome, as are her "cloud factories", but I have to say that this one is my favorite:Anyway, be sure to check it out.