US Flight 93 Memorial and Centralia PA

With several days of 2014 vacation that must be used before the end of April, I knew I needed to "do something" with the time rather than just sit around the house - even though I almost always find things to do and there are several things that need to be done.

On my Google Keep list of places I'd like to see was Centralia, Pennsylvania.  I don't remember where I heard about it originally, but Centralia is an almost-ghost town.  In 1962, the town dump was burned (environmental challenges were treated differently then), which likely ignited a coal vein that burned underground.  The coal continued to burn, causing issues like super-heated gasoline in an underground tank, buckling of roads, and sink-holes - one of which almost swallowed and burned a child.
In the 1980's, the town was abandoned and the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania now owns the town, even though there are still a handful of residents.
Wikipedia has a pretty good synopsis of the events.  There is an excellent documentary which gives much more information as well as putting a human face on the town.

While planning the trip, I noticed my planned route would put me through Shanksville, Pennsylvania where US Flight 93 was crashed on September 11, 2001 and the Flight 93 National Memorial now is.

I left dark and early on Sunday morning, hoping to miss most of the work-day traffic.  Traffic was indeed light, but it felt cold.  It was in the lower 40s, which is usually fairly easy to be reasonably comfortable, but for whatever reason, I was absolutely frigid.  There was a fairly stunning sunrise, which was also short lived, as I got into the Columbus, OH area.  The cloud line continued to stay just out of reach, preventing a significant warm-up.  Luckily, the Triumph Trophy has heated grips as it made all the difference.

Finally, somewhere in Eastern Ohio, the sun came out and things started to warm up much more.  I spent most of the morning on the interstate, but got off for a short time which was much more pleasant and allowed me to get a real Whoopie Pie at a gas stop.
Near the panhandle of West Virginia, I got back on the interstate and stayed on it until the Pennsylvania Turnpike.  It may be different now, but I vividly remember taking the turnpike when I had an internship in New Jersey in college, and I recall it was very expensive and painful with slow construction.

I got to the US Flight 93 National Memorial around noon.  The road there was pretty, even if the trees are still stark without leaves.  The Memorial is still under construction and on this April day, there were not many people there.

The Memorial is well done, if incomplete.  I'm curious what it will look like when it is done and may have to return one day.  There is a massive visiting center which is just walls, the beginnings of a group of planted trees and a wetlands area with a bridge.
It is possible to get quite close to the actual impact spot, which is marked with a boulder and small flags.

There is a wall with passenger names on it, although the many sections without names makes it look like it isn't finished.  There are nooks in the wall bordering the walkway where tributes can be left.
Overall, I found the Memorial quite sobering.  It brought back memories of that September day, with everyone at work staring at TV screens, hearing some information that turned out not to be true and other information we hoped wasn't true.

Back on the road, I stayed on 2-lane roads through most of Pennsylvania.  This area has some absolutely fantastic motorcycle roads.  However, many of them are marked at a ridiculously slow speed for trucks.  I didn't get behind any slow vehicles, and I absolutely would not want to either...

I made good time and got to Frackville in the late afternoon.  I didn't feel like sitting around the hotel room all evening, so I thought I'd head to Centralia and then go back on Monday morning - Monday morning being the plan to see what the almost-ghost town had to offer.
Frackville to Centralia takes about 10 minutes.  I had read that some people have had a hard time while looking around, but I'm not sure I believe it.  There were many cars parked all over, especially at the main interest points.  There were also people running all over in ATVs and off-road vehicles.  I talked with several people in the area, all of whom said that any smoke is rare and short-lived now.  There is a slight sulfur smell of burning coal, but it is almost in the background.
The most notable feature of Centralia is the graffiti highway.

Yep, that is a lot of vulgar graffiti.  The buckled highway looks pretty bad, but the ground is ambient temperature.  No more heat or smoke, at least not on this day.

Overall, my Centralia visit felt a bit voyeuristic and anticlimactic.  It felt voyeuristic since there are still a handful of people who live there.  I tried to be sensitive to the fact that people's homes were still there and felt bad that some treat it like it was a zoo.
It was a bit anticlimactic since there was no real evidence of the fire burning.  It was a bit like when I was in Wyoming after a forest fire had been in the area, except forest fires often initiate life and regrowth.  A dead town seems just like a dead town.  It reminded me of the suburban community that a family member moved into before the developer lost all his money.  In both situations, streets sit eerily empty.  Individual housing lots could still be made out.  There were still telephone poles and walkways, just no houses and no people.  I didn't even see much in the way of squirrels or the like running around.

I actually found the town more compelling than the graffiti highway or the vent tubes near the cemetery.  What was really sad was all the trash all over.  This isn't unique to Centralia, just more pronounced.  Trash all over really isn't unique to this part of Pennsylvania or Pennsylvania in genral; people are pigs.
Saint Ignatius looks down on the remnants of Centralia and the remaining denizens.  The view of the town and the area looks like it could have come right out of the movie The Deer Hunter.

Most coal that is mined is still used for electrical generation.  The irony of a town destroyed by coal, that now lies in the shadow of windmills should be noted.

After seeing Centralia, I decided there was no reason to go back in the morning.  I do believe that the experience would have been much different first thing on a Monday morning as I doubt there would be many other people there.  As expected, it really isn't a tourist destination, but I wouldn't want to go there on a busy June weekend.

Back at the hotel I had a great meal at the Dutch Kitchen before finishing the day with ice cream.

While resting at night, I couldn't help but wonder where Frackville got its name?  Fracking is a relatively recent phenomenon, but the town was founded in the 1860s.  I was also struck at how busy Frackville and nearby Ashville were.  Both of these towns are a picture of what Centralia might have become had Federal Government bureaucracy and Local Government ineptitude not been so prevalent in 1962.
Belated Edit:  According to Wikipedia and other sources, Frackville is named after Daniel Frack, an early setller.  Now that is quite a coincidence.  

2015 Hog Hunt day 6 and 7 (Drive Day)

The last day or hunting started with work to do.  Rob, Cody and I went with Rick to pick up some bagged corn that Rick got a deal on (nearly half price).  Joe went shooting with Rick's neighbor Chad and then left.  The forecast was for rain, potentially heavy and Joe was not interested in sitting out during inclimate weather.

After getting the corn, we went back to the lodge for the rest of the morning and afternoon.  It started to rain in the very early afternoon so we just hung out in the lodge.

Later in the afternoon Rick dropped us all off for our last afternoon of hunting.  Jessie was dropped off at "the swamp" which gave her the best chance of seeing hogs.  I was on NG's farm in a ground blind.  Thankfully it was a box blind with a roof.  Rob and Cody were on Will's farm in another box blind.
As far as ground blinds go, I really like the box blinds since I think the give the best protection from the wind and scent moving.  The darkness also allows for a little more movement possible, although this shouldn't be seen as a substitute for sitting still.  In this case, protection from the weather, even if limited is nice.

Rain during the afternoon was a mist to a moderate rain at times.  It wouldn't have been too bad, but since hog movement was somewhat down this year the protection form rain was nice.
The box blind had a very comfortable chair in it, but it still took some time to get situated to sit still.
At one point at around 4:00 I was rearranging things in my hunting bag when I looked up and caught sight of something running across the corn pile.  I'm not 100% sure what it was, but I think it was a really big coyote.  Supporting this, later that evening I heard coyotes very near the stand.  Part of me is afraid to believe I may have missed a chance at a big hog.

Not much else moved until just before dark when several deer came out.  I watched the deer for a while, but it got darker much earlier with the rain and clouds coupled with the heavy pine trees.  After dark, I quietly made my way back to the clearing to get picked up.  Standing in the mist waiting for Rick, a few coyotes howled in the distance.  This was followed very quickly by lots of howling and yipping very near by.  It sounded like the close coyotes were very close to the blind.  That howling sound of a pack of coyotes is both eerie and magical.

Nobody else had seen any hogs which means Jessie's 11 year run of getting at least one hog is broken.  She wasn't happy and neither was Rick; I felt bad for Jessie (but I've been there).

Back at the lodge, we quartered up my boar and put it on ice in my cooler for the trip home.
We ate food that was left over from the week.  I packed up most of my stuff to be able to leave quickly and quietly in the morning.  We all booked for the same time next year.  Without the plantation, this year was tougher than most, but hopefully things will get worked out in a positive direction before 2016.
Everyone turned in early since everyone was going home the next day.

I woke up a few minutes before my phone alarm went off Saturday morning.  A quick shower, my last few things packed up and I was on the road by about 4:00AM - a little paranoid that I forgot something (as always).
Rain in the morning was very heavy at times but let up through the day.  The mountains near the Tennessee/North Carolina border were somewhat snowy with more snow on the ground through Tennessee and most of Kentucky.
I listened tot he book Skyjack, The Hunt for D.B. Cooper by Geoffrey Gray.  I've always had an interest in the Dan Cooper hijacking case.  The book morphed form an interesting investigation of the November, 1971 events into his interactions with increasingly bizarre and conspiracy-oriented people.  It was hard to tell from the book if his interactions with the crazies were somewhat tongue in cheek, especially since the book was read by the author.  The conspiracy theories got pretty outlandish; the biggest problem with conspiracy theories is they kind of have to be all right or all wrong, there isn't much room for partial truth.

Back at home I unpacked before resting for the evening.  I was able to weigh my recovered bullet form the hog at 113 grains, meaning almost 70% weight retention after an aggressive path through the animal.  Fairly impressive!
A good part of Sunday was spent processing my hog into loins, steaks and burgers, ending this year's wild boar hunt.

2015 Hog Hunt Day 5

Morning came with work to do.  Rob, Joe and I skinned and finished cleaning the two hogs from the previous evening.  We put them in Rob's cooler which was alternately being turned on and off to keep things cool without freezing.
While cleaning the hogs, we were able to recover bullets from each animal.  This is the second time I've been able to recover bullets from a hog, the first being a .380 - which is more understandable (and quite a story).
Joe's recovered bullet was just the jacket.  Likely the lead core had shattered while passing through the spine.
My recovered bullet told the tale of the bullet path.  The handloaded Ballistic Tip had entered the hogs head near the "cheek" and passed through the skull.  It exited behind the skull and reentered the far leg, lodging in the off side of the leg right under the skin.  I've heard of early designs of Nosler Ballistic Tips being "too fragile" for large animals but in this case the bullet stayed together very well.

After cleaning the hogs, we fed stands with Rick and then lounged around the lodge for a while, and was able to take a longer afternoon walk to scare the neighbors more.

After Rick picked up Will from school, we headed out.  Joe was playing junior guide and dropped me off on the same land as Joe was on the previous evening, but we were both on the stands that were farther back.

I was on a small ladder stand for the evening.  The evening started slow with very little seen, but hearing turkey's roost up ahead.  Three deer came out a little after 5:00 which at least gave me something to watch.  At one point they took off running and I was hopeful the porkers were on their way in, but it was just another deer.
Several more deer came out and were in front of me until after dark when I slipped out to meet Joe back at the fork in the road.  Nobody else saw any hogs - Jessie has yet to see one after an 11 year run of getting at least one hog every year.

The next day's weather forecast was deteriorating with rain, and potentially lots of it.

2015 Hog Hunt Day 4

The day started as the previous two.  Early up.  Short walk.  BSing in the lodge.
Rob skinned his hogs and got them in his cooler.

Rob, Joe and I went with Rick to feed up stands.  Johnsonville had been hit pretty good overnight so there wasn't too much worry about my spooking the hogs while walking out the evening previous.  Chalk one up for walking quietly without a flashlight.

We went back to the lodge and got ready to head out.  Joe was headed to the same stand where I shot my very large hog a few years back.  But, instead of using the ladder stand, his plan was to hang back and use his bench rest rifle.  Joe and Cody were in a stand nearby.
Rick took Jessie to Will's farm and I went back to Johnsonville.  Rick told me that since the hogs were not patterning at the various corn piles at all, it was time to make some action.  I was to sit on the stand on the road and if nothing showed up before dark to make my way over to the other stand I was on the night previous to see if they were there.  The exception to the rule of:  Don't get out of the stand!

The evening passed slowly.  The ground blind was fairly uncomfortable with my legs tucked up in an awkward position.  The spot was also at quite an angle to the left and back.  Thankfully, my sciatica was cooperating on this trip.
Near dark I dark after not seeing anything, I releveled my shooting sticks, took one last peak in through the scope and headed very quietly to the other stand.  I'll admit that as I was getting up I thought that moving and trying to sneak up on mythical hogs was probably pretty dumb.  I hugged the right hand side of the road and peered around the last bush to see a whole mess of hogs milling around the corn pile.  But, it was dark, almost dark, dark.  I crawled on my hands and knees with my rifle and shooting sticks and set up.  I wasn't happy with the level of light.  Five minutes earlier would have made all the difference.
I could still see the crosshairs, but with so many hogs, I didn't want to have a pass-through wound or even worse a bad shot and wound.  I picked out a lighter colored hog near front that didn't have much else around it.  It definitely wasn't the biggest one, but the black hogs were too hard to see to risk shooting.  The lighter one was quartering toward me, nearly facing me.
At the shot, the hogs scattered, but not in a panic mode.  For the second time in recent hunts the muzzle blast of my gun temporarily blinded me in the dim light.  Through the scope I could see my hog flopping.  The lack of noise told me it was hit good and in a few seconds it stopped flopping.  There was still a bit of worry since it wasn't easy to see after the shot and the hog was covered in mud after the shot.

I quietly made my way back to my first stand.  I had a text from Rick saying he was at the clear cut.  I responded that I was pretty sure I had a hog down and to come get me.  He drove up a few minutes later and after driving to the other stand we easily found my boar on the left hand side behind the big mud wallow.  It wasn't the biggest hog I've ever taken, but given the circumstances and the fact that this one was taken in stealth mode, I was happy.  It was also probably one of the first hogs taken on this farm in quite some time.

We loaded up my hog and went back to meet the others.  Joe had shot a hog with his wildcat 7mm Norma Magnum bench rifle at a confirmed 498 yards.  Impressive!  The others in the group hadn't seen anything.

We cleaned the hogs and left them to hang overnight.

2015 Hog Hunt Day 3

The day started as the previous day with me getting up early.  I again took a walk down to the river and back.  Later in the evening Rick showed me a picture that a neighbor sent asking if the dude walking down the road was "one of his guys".  This just helps prove what I say about walking and why I need to have dogs:  An ugly old man walking alone down a rural road is a vagrant.  An ugly old man walking down the road with a dog is quaint.

We hung out at the lodge for a while while Rick and Joe went to the taxidermist and start to feed stands.  Early in the afternoon I left with Rick to finish feeding stands and pick Will up at school.  Then they dropped me off in the rough for the evening.  I was hunting the same property as the previous night, but a different stand.  We met the Forester of the property as we were driving in and he commented on how something needs to be done about the hogs before the clear-cut patch was replanted, "or there is just no point."
The stand I was on was the same stand as Rob, Cody and Will were on the previous evening.  They had heard hogs, seen a bobcat and the pile had been hit hard the night before.
The night was warmer than Monday, but also much noisier.  There was more wind, the peepers were deafening and there were numerous other tree frogs, dogs etc. all making noise.  I thought I heard a hog squeal at one point, but it was hard to tell for sure.
The evening progressed slowly.  As it got dark, a pretty amazing sunset could be seen through the pines.  The sun shone up on the staccato clouds, making a very pretty red to orange scene.

After dark I packed up my stuff and headed out to meet Rick back at the clear cut.  I packed and walked out without the flashlight.  As I neared the corn pile on the road about 100 yards from where I was sitting, I thought I saw a hog standing in the road next to a water hole.  I was walking very quietly so stopped and looked; I thought I saw a couple more hogs behind the first.  I thought for a second about what I should do when one of the hogs squealed.  The larger hog nearest me ran straight toward me, close enough I could have kicked it before doing a 180 and hightailing it to the left.  The other hogs followed.  I probably startled the hogs being able to walk up with 10-15 yards of them.  I know they scared me for an instant.  It was both interesting and frustrating to know that there were hogs within about 100 yards from where I was sitting.

After getting to the truck and relaying the brief excitement to Rick, we headed out to the property where Joe, Jess, Rob and Cody were.  Both Rob and Cody had shot very respectable boar hogs weighing in near 175 and 200 pounds respectively.  Nicely, neither hog smelled bad and so both should be good eating.

It was good that someone in the group got hogs on the ground, let alone two really decent ones.  Now for the rest of us.

2015 Hog Hunt Day 2

I was up before everyone else and poked around online until other life started stirring.
The day started cold, but warmed quickly with a nearly cloudless sky.  After morning coffee, I took a quick walk down to the river.  I don't have dogs to walk here, but at least I can stay somewhat active.

After lollygagging around for a while, Rick, Joe and I went out to feed stands.  Many of the stands looked good.  It will be interesting to see how the hunting goes without hunting at the plantation this year.
After feeding stands, we went back to the lodge to get ready for the afternoon.  I was hunting at a new farm near Johnsonville, with Rob hunting nearby on the same property with Cody and Will.
I was sitting in a ground blind about 50 yards from the corn pile.  There was quite a swamp right to my right through the thick brush.  The ground blind was better than some I've sat in as it was tucked in tight to the brush with a nice window to shoot through.
The evening progressed slowly without seeing anything.  It started out warm, but as the sun sunk it got colder quickly with very little humidity in the air.  It was odd to get updates from home by email as I was in the blind.  I felt a little guilty for being down here.

I unloaded the gun at dark and met back at the rendevous point.  Rob, Cody and Will had seen a bobcat.  Jessie had seen deer, and Joe hadn't seen anything.

We had dinner back at the lodge before turning in after the first night of the 2015 hunt.

2015 Hog Hunt Day 1 (Drive Day)

Morning came early as I got up at my usual time for work.  I got ready quickly and was out the door by a little after 4:00.  Weather was relatively warm for the time of year, with a light rain falling.  The rain persisted, very lightly for the first half of the trip.  Mostly this was just seen by wet roads.

Quite a bit is going on right now.  So much, that I wasn't sure I was actually going to be able to make my annual trip to South Carolina to hunt wild boar.  There were several heavy things on my mind as I headed south; deep in thought, I blew through a stop sign very near home.  This is through an intersection I drive through relatively often so it was a wake-up call.  The rural area I live in is devoid of activity at 4:00, but it was a message to pay attention with a long drive ahead.

As could be predicted, traffic was non-existent on an early Sunday morning.  Once on the interstate, I listened to the book How Starbucks Saved My Life by Michael Gates Gill.  It was a book about a man who grew up in a privileged environment, had a high level advertising job and family, then lost it all.  He ended up working at Starbucks and loving it.  For whatever reason, I found parallels to some of the stuff going on.  Not that these parallels really existed, it was just my frame of mind.

As with previous trips, I saw the sunrise near the Kentucky/Tennessee border.  With the clouds breaking it was very pretty.  As the sun rose, sun blindness was actually a problem which is a good problem to have compared to years where bad weather chased me south.

I made it to the lodge in about 11 hours, so good time was made.  No one was there so I hung out and almost fell asleep until Rick came back.  He was with another hunter who had just gotten to camp named Joe.  We talked a bit until Jessie and Robert arrived with their son Cody.

We ate dinner at the lodge followed by generally BSing and getting to know each other.  I was having a hard time staying awake, and so turned in for the night relatively early.