The Susquehana River

Me neither; didn't know a thing about it until about five years ago. On a trip by car to New Jersey via Rochester and Binghampton I found myself crossing numerous bridges marked "Susquehana River - East Branch" and figured that a river having so many bridges over the East Branch probably had quite a few over the West Branch, too. That is, the river, both branches, covered a fair bit of turf.

Some light-hearted research a few days later showed me that the Susquehana fed into Chesapeake Bay, which is as it turns out, the drowned river valley of the Susquehana River.

Now if you follow this idea of "drowned" a little farther you end up with a valley drowning because the sea-level rose, and just a quick view at any map of north-eastern USA shows that the Susquehana River performs an amazing feat.

It cuts across (as in "through") mountain ranges.

Here I should point out that the mountains in these parts are the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains, and as such are a mere thousand feet or so above sea level.

Still and all, most large rivers, when they come to a 1,000 foot ridge of rock, decide to flow parallel to the ridge until they come to the end of the ridge, or until a very weak spot is found.

But what about a river that punches a near-straight line at right-angles across and through 12 consecutive 1,000 foot ridges of rock?

Here's the trick: The Susquehana River flowed where it flows now BEFORE the ridges formed, that is, before the Appalachian mountains formed. The river always ran in a southerly direction. As the Appalachians formed and the foothills rose, the river serenely cut through the ridges like a band-saw. A serene band-saw.

Here is an enhanced radar image of the state of Pennsylvania. The Susquehana River is visible as it cuts straight through the foothills of the Appalachian mountains.

Some river!

We stayed the first night in Bridgeford, West Virginia. Here is a view across one of the many rolling valleys to a shopping mall on the far side.

Here is another view, zoomed, and I now realize that we can't see the shopping mall on the far side of the valley.

Hang about a minute; I'll drive over there.

The trucks appear like toys on the highway further down the slope. This is a serious valley, for all that it is just normal for these parts.

Yup! Real vehicles, here in zoom mode once more.

This is a five-foot long concrete kerbstone, the sort of thing that should be used to create central bus lanes in Toronto instead of these million-dollar exercise in politics. Just get on with it, OK?

OK. Here we are in the shopping mall on the far side of the valley, staring back at the motel, which is just not visible at the base of that hillock, centre of the image, and yes, that's the service road and highway snaking up the same hillside.

Zoomed, again.

I didn't know what to make of the locals hereabouts.

The Zellers ( or whatever chain it was) store has doors, real doors, that open outward, marked "Do not enter; exit only". Fair enough. We have those in Canada too. But what about the central doors marked "Do not enter; Not an entrance"? Why the distinction?

See what I mean?

If you sneak inside the store on the coat-tails of a local, here's what you see from the inside: "Do not enter; enter only".

Huh?

See what I mean? And these doors are automatic doors. That is, the doors are triggered manually by the footsteps of an approaching customer.

I gave in around about now and sat very still for thirty minutes or so planning my escape.

Once outside again, a quick snapshot to convince myself I wasn't dreaming, then vroom-vroom!

Here we are driving through West Virginia, Maryland and ultimately back into Pennsylvania. We had entered the sign at the left-hand side and were headed towards, I think, the world-famous "Cumberland Gap".

We decided to stop for a cuppa in Frostburg, a University town founded on great slabs of pizza.

That's the world-famous Gunter Hotel. We wandered inside for a cuppa, and left when the nice lady said she'd make a fresh urn of tea.

But not before photographing the ornate central staircase with Real Tulips.

Here's a shot of Ms B giving me advice on how to use her camera without a flash.

That's the back of a chair, not my gut.

Here's how much worse it gets with Ms B out of the picture.

And here's how good it gets with the flash, but taken at an angle. That's the central staircase accidentally framed.

The foyer. More Real Tulips.

Across the street we sat down in the diner, and got ready to enjoy our kind of music.

Except the juke boxes haven't worked for years ...

A late lunch.

And off we go again. Note the cleft in the ridge. We are about to drive through that!

Here is the sort of bus we should have zooming around small "pods" or areas in Toronto, filling up with passengers then making a beeline to the nearest subway station.

Next day we set off from Lancaster and hung a right at Harrisburg. Here's a first view of the ridges as we approach them and prepare to knife through them, heading upstream.

A view of one ridge as it slopes into the highway.

My first view (this trip) of the Susquehana cutting through the ridges between Sunbury and Harrisburg.

Driving dangerously while taking photos of the sawn-through ridges.

The river is about a mile wide near Harrisburg, I think.

Little can be seen of the river here; the concrete barriers inhibit a view.

Just wait until this truck has moved out of the way ...

World's longest tennis-court ...

... and on and on ...

... and on and on ...

We get the odd glimpse every now and then. I thought it'd be a grander view than this.

Then we cross the river and start to see silt-islands in the river. Gone are the concrete barriers.

Here's a view of the river and one of the carved foothills of the Appalachian mountains.

We found a boat ramp and parked to stretch our legs.

I stooped and took a ceremonial sip of the Susquehana River

The view sure is impressive here; and peaceful.

Here's a view back to the parking lot. That's highways 11 & 15 buzzing past us.

We witnessed a swarm of flying ants; here is one on the ribbed concrete ramp.

Here in the drizzle we are approaching the un-aptly-named Sunbury.

There's an airstrip below us!

Finally, here is how the Susquehana is made!

Search