Hi, Rich!

This morning, after searching for a PennDOT GPS survey station nearby, we went to collect the First Finder’s prize. We enjoyed walking part of the old Moosic Lake Road, and we found the treasure without any trouble. Be assured it’s greatly appreciated, but we hope you know we were only kidding about there being no “beer money” in the cache!

We’ve decided, as we did with your last tree cache, to return the prize to the “Rocks From Afar” cache the next time we visit it. Hopefully this will provide an incentive for someone else to attempt the challenge! If no one succeeds in finding it within a predetermined time period we will, as before, go back to claim the prize for ourselves.

Thanks for adding an extra little adventure to our weekend!

Zhanna and ~Rich in NEPA~

… We’ll leave this prize for the next finder … but there will be a time limit!

In which the mooses become acquainted with the majestic and comical saguaro, hike an easy trail to centuries-old Hohokam petroglyphs, and have a close call with their first thunderstorm in the desert while near the abandoned Gould Mine.

Today was probably the closest we’ve had to a “day of rest” on our entire trip. We began the day a little later than usual (but probably still earlier than most vacationers would), crossing the highway again for breakfast at the spot recommended by the hotel clerk — Country Folks at the Quality Inn. After filling up on a blueberry-topped Belgian waffle (mine, of course) and a bacon and egg burrito (for Rich, of course), we began our exploration of Saguaro National Park.

The visitor center is large and modern and well-stocked with books, maps and other goodies. We spent well over an hour among the shelves of printed material, eventually deciding on a few maps and pamphlets to add to our collection. The Gingerbread Javelinas also caught my eye! A filmed slideshow in a darkened theater room off to the side interested us, too. Through the words of the narrator, an O’odham native, we learned that the saguaros are the lifeblood of the O’odham people, and indeed are thought to represent our relatives who have passed before us, and who also came from, and returned to, the ground. Indeed, we are not the only ones who think the saguaros uncannily resemble humans!

We began with a slow, easy trip along the Bajada Loop Drive. There were opportunities to stop and wander among the saguaros, and I found them to be even more beautiful up close.

Exposed to the searing sun, we hiked the Signal Hill Trail (just a short walk of a few hundred yards, really, if that) and then climbed, winding around the hill, to view the Hohokam petroglyphs carved into the rocks on top. We narrowly avoided a horde of little bastards in some way connected with a school field trip, and we spent a quiet half-hour here photographing the carvings and the scenery beyond. Though the hill is low, it offers views in every direction of dense saguaro stands, as well as vistas toward Apache Peak and the Tucson Mountains.

Sufficiently warmed up, I was ready to begin the real hike! We took the King Canyon trail (or some combination of it and nearby trails, having somehow missed the correct trailhead coming off the parking lot). Another slightly uphill hike, this one took us to the Mamagah Picnic Area, where we rested in the shade of a small wooden picnic pavilion and snacked on cheese and peanut butter crackers, and a sadly melted Payday bar, and at least two quarts of Gatorade. To our distinct surprise, thunder began to rumble and roll in the sky and for the first time all week, thick clouds dulled the aqua blue sky above the Tucson Mountains to the east. Rich pointed them out, astonished, wondering if it really were possible that we were about to experience a rare Spring thunderstorm in the desert. All the times he’s been here, in distinctly wetter months, he has never even come close to experiencing a drop of rain. The sheets of rain that soon dropped from the clouds, still far in the distance, assured us we were to experience something special. “Ooh,” Rich pined, “It would be so awesome to see a flash flood down in the wash!”

Feeling only half-beat and confident we would miss the brunt of the storm (but wanting to stay high above the wash, still hoping for a chance of a flash flood), we were determined to see the Gould Mine. It had been one of my main goals since I spotted it on the map. I was aware that there’s no way to go inside, but I was fascinated by the thought of seeing a western copper mine, obviously very different from what we have in the East. The mine is just a short walk on a clear trail to the north, and though the opening is covered and fenced off, it’s still neat to imagine the activity that took place here just a few decades ago. As we were imagining, though, and playfully taking photos of the “Open Shaft” signs, I began to feel a breeze, and in it, flecks of wetness that dotted my arms and camera body. They evaporated as soon as they touched, and never grew heavier though the wind continued, but we were still thrilled that we’d come so close to an out-of-season storm such as this. The clouds stayed tucked behind the mountains, and as we circled down below the mine’s tailing pile the slight breeze was the only remnant of the storm. The flash flood never came, and back in the hot sun again we continued the loop back to the car.

Today’s wildlife totals were somewhat impressive, considering that all desert wildlife is still a novelty to me: we saw many doves, Gila woodpeckers, and a pair of roadrunners, and one cactus wren. A jackrabbit crossed our path just as we were approaching the parking area, at the end of our hike.

In spite of our sweatiness (which, to be fair, is much less permeating and enduring than in the sickeningly humid East), we drove directly to the famed El Charro, another of Rich’s “must eats.” The hour was early, probably before 5:00pm, but the scene was already festive and the place was drawing a crowd. While we waited to gain the attention of the preoccupied hostess, we had no choice but to overhear (because they were so loud) the conversation of some women also waiting for a table. Apparently the storm had caused a severe flash flood; but it had run east down the mountains, away from us. Streets were closed — a road we’d traveled that morning to get to the park, in fact. So close!

The delicious food and beer helped erase our disappointment, however, within minutes. We chose to sit outside in the courtyard, surrounded by color, lights, leaves. We began by sharing a chile verde quesadilla, which was fresh and tender and very cheesy. For an entree I had a combination plate: one each of a carne seca taco and a cheese enchilada, with the typical accompaniments, and Rich ordered the famous carne seca platter. Everything was delicious, everything went fabulously with beer, of course. We ate our dessert flan to the hilarious strains of familiar ABBA tunes sung in Spanish. This whole day was made just for us!

… Trying hard not to slide down into the tunnel(l)! This is the long-sought portal to the Eddy Tunnel. We don’t know why they chose to spell tunnel with two "L"s, but I find it charming.

… Rich takes his turn posing on the slippery slope.

On an unrelated note, we finished off the day’s adventures by riding back to Rich’s place for some well-deserved birthday hotdogs, snacks and dessert before work!

… We couldn’t miss this very obvious bat gate.

… Looking down into the darkness of the Rock Slope mine tunnel, near the site of the old Underwood Colliery. Someone has removed one of the beams on the gate, allowing acccess.

We hurried toward it, excited by the find but soon realizing that the portal to the Eddy Tunnel most likely was not anywhere nearby. The Rock Slope (1915) portal, mostly buried in fill, was adjacent to the gated mine shaft opening, but no other portal was anywhere to be found. We reflected that this wasn’t even a particularly logical place for another opening, especially of the type we expected the Eddy Tunnel to be. These were still exciting finds, and though we dared not venture inside today for a peek at all the artifacts within, we were certainly intrigued and may return once we procure the proper equipment and gain some training.

… Enough of the portal has been uncovered to be able to positively identify this tunnel.

… Some concrete remains from the old Underwood Colliery.

… A leftover foundation from the colliery operation.

On our way back to the highway, Rich had me pull off Marshwood Road just west of the highway ramp. He wanted to investigate a shed he’d noticed set back in the woods. The shed itself wasn’t very interesting—though all things become more interesting the more you know about them, so I will keep searching for information about it. Beyond the shed, though, we spotted several dark areas in the ledge and went to investigate. We’d found a series of mine openings! Three can be entered, two very easily. At the third mine, a wooden pillar still props up the opening.

… Ignoring her injured ankle, Zhanna hops around near one of the mine openings off Marshwood Road.

Our coal mining history is common knowledge—but many of us are under the impression that the since the mines were abandoned years ago, they also ceased to exist or at least to be accessible. Living “up da Valley” for the past two years and hiking these mountains with Rich started to change my mind. The signs were all around! The miners are still with us. And the Underground Miners have shown that with a little time and trouble, lots of preparation and a dash of fearlessness, we can still enter the mines and listen to their stories.

Coal mines are fascinating, but what’s more intriguing than a tunnel you knew nothing about, that travels for at least several miles beneath the city and emerges at two distant but familiar points? Through the Underground Miners’ site, I learned of the Pennsylvania (also called Underwood) Tunnel and just had to find the entrance for myself.

I knew we were looking for a gated concrete portal along the east bank of the Lackawanna, somewhere between Olyphant and Scranton. That’s quite a stretch, and I needed to find some information to narrow down the possibilities. Google brought me to the LRCA site, which for years has proved a treasure trove of local history “nuggets”, site access hints, and interesting avenues for further exploration. Buried in Appendix C of the River Conservation Plan I found this simple statement:

A noteworthy feature on the east bank below the intersection of Boulevard Avenue and Olyphant Avenue, is the portal entry of the Underwood Tunnel, constructed by the Pennsylvania Coal Company in 1909. This three-mile long rock tunnel runs on a east-northeast alignment to Dunmore, near the I-81/PA Rte. 347 interchange, where it turns to the northeast, terminating in the Underwood Colliery workings in Throop. This tunnel was built to drain the mines along its route.

and Bingo, we have our portal and we’re on our way. Our suspicions were confirmed that night by a local contact whose hint was “it’s between the recycling center and Green Ridge Pizza.”

Now, how to access it?

After our successful scouting of the “Bridge to …?” Rich and I continued southwest along Main Ave. through Dickson City to Parker Street, where we turned and went over the bridge, merging onto Boulevard Avenue. No luck here, as the bank is horribly steep and the avenue is lined with houses built very close together. We decided to detour through Green Ridge and into the Plot, and pop out on the west bank of the river. A look across from the right spot, and we should easily see the portal.

Our first stop, at the southwest end of Shawnee Avenue, yielded nothing but frozen faces and asses and plenty of mud and goose shit (I guess we should’ve just stayed in the car). A drive to the northeast end of Shawnee, however, and then a hop-skip-jump through the mud to the riverbank brought us face to face (well, with a river between) with the sought-after portal. Yipeee! A five-second celebration was enough in that kind of wind, and we headed right back to the car. By this time it was 3:00pm on a Friday, and all the crazies were out. We scouted a few more very minor sites by car, and then headed back to Rich’s to trade sauce and, well, so that I could track mud across his floor (sorry about that, but at least I paid the maid!).

The story shall continue when we find the other entrances, and if/when we enter the tunnel itself. For now, I’m satisfied to know another of NEPA’s intriguing little secrets.

We then followed the trail east to the top of the hill, where it dead-ends. After a short bushwhack southeast, we were back on the powerline and heading back toward Jessup.

Thanks, Rich, for the photos, and the stories of how these roads and trails were all connected in the past! I wish I could’ve seen and explored this area back then.

… View of the opening as we approached from the trail.

… A closer view. Flagging tape and the number 26 are visible.

… Some icy water drains from around the opening.

… A little birdhouse along the trail. I think Martha Stewart has been decorating here!

… I’d guess that we walked into someone’s party spot. It’s tidier than most I’ve seen.

…

Zhanna peeks into one of the two deep shafts of the Winston Mine complex.

… Rich carefully approaches the same mine shaft.

… Zhanna hangs on tight above the second deep shaft of the Winston Mine. This one was filled with water.

… The remains of the old steam-powered sawmill was just one of the interesting archaeological "discoveries" we made while hiking along the Sterling Ridge trail toward the furnaces at Long Pond Ironworks.

… New Jersey Division of Parks & Forestry survey disk. See my complete log for this survey mark …

… With Rich’s encouragement ("OK … into the cart you go!!!"), Zhanna breaks the rules and plays around in this cart.

… Not far from the "orc heart," Rich finds a glob of poured iron.

Old Iron Furnaces Terracache by turtle3863 (you must be logged into the Terracaching site to view)

Long Pond Ironworks dates back to 1766, when German ironmaster Peter Hasenclever acquired the land around Long Pond and several large nearby tracts, and forged ahead with big plans to create furnaces, forges, roads, dams, and a village for his workers. A furnace was built and put into operation, but investors soon dropped their backing, judging Hasenclever’s plans to be far too expensive and risky. The ironworks changed hands several times over the decades.

By the mid-1800s, industrialists Peter Cooper and Abram S. Hewitt had shown an interest, and they purchased the operation in 1853. They built two new, large furnaces and erected two 25-foot overshot waterwheels and supporting waterworks to operate them. Among its other strengths, iron from Long Pond was of a quality suitable to be used for gun barrels for the Union Army. Unfortunately, the demise of the ironworks was swift as it became apparent how much cheaper it was to forge iron in regions to the west, where Pennsylvania’s coal and the Great Lakes’ iron ore could more efficiently fuel and feed the furnaces. Long Pond’s furnaces were last lit in early 1882. Currently the site is in poor shape, but the Friends of Long Pond Ironworks are working toward restoration.

Rich and I visited the Ironworks as part of our day-long explorations of some of Northern New Jersey’s iron mining areas. We began by seeking out the exploratory pits and shafts associated with the Winston Mine on Monks Mountain, then headed to the Ironworks. After wandering among the ruins to get a sense of the scale and an appreciation for the masterful work of its builders, we took a long slow walk along some of the adjacent trails. Our final stop was the remains of the Patterson Mine, north and then east along an old carriage road from the Ironworks, and atop a wooded hill.

… These furnaces at Long Pond Ironworks were constructed in the mid-1800s. They were used to produce iron for the Union Army’s gun barrels during the Civil War.

… Zhanna finds a comfy seat on a chunk of iron ore.

Long Pond Ironworks by Briansnat

Hi Brian!

I received the book “Iron Mine Trails” as a holiday gift from Rich, and for a few weeks I could barely wait for a day we both had off together (hoping that it would be a warm, dry day as well). This Friday was such a day, just perfect to begin our explorations of Northern New Jersey’s iron mines. We began by hiking Monks Mountain and exploring the remains of the Winston Mine complex. After a leisurely morning spent poking around the old pits and tailings and peering into the deeper shafts, we headed back to the car and changed into shorts for the second half of our adventure.

As recommended, we parked just off Route 511 in Hewitt and headed in on the blue-blazed trail toward the ironworks. We passed the remains of the sawmill, the long house (where we also spotted two survey markers), the old store and post office and the ice house before reaching the iron furnaces themselves. I love finding manmade structures in the woods and then trying to discover their original purpose, and as we later discovered, the Friends of Long Pond Ironworks website is a valuable resource. This was a fascinating area and I could have spent hours here exploring the ruins. The furnaces are in fair shape and seem to be undergoing some reconstruction. The waterwheels and, especially, the trough north of the furnaces built in 1873 for a much larger waterwheel (which was never constructed) were awesome. The care and intricate work put into these massive structures is quite a testament to the spirit and skills of our ancestors, and it’s quite a shame that they not only fell into ruin, but that their ruin was hastened by vandals with no regard for the importance this area once held for our area and our country.

Our main goal for the day was simply to enjoy the ability to hike in Winter without being bundled up (can’t beat a 60° day in January!) and slowly explore the wonders of this new area, making the most of a short Winter day. Consequently any nearby geocaches or benchmarks were simply not a priority. But on our way back to the ironworks from the Patterson Mine, in cooling temperatures and fading daylight, I noticed that we were just a few hundred feet from your cache. We needed a rest/snack break anyway, so we decided to take a quick look. Coordinates were just fine and though I was momentarily fooled by another very likely hiding spot, we soon found the correct spot and pulled out the cache. Everything was in fine condition. I traded nothing and left a short note in the tiny logbook. The cache is in a lovely spot that will be just perfect for a lazy, relaxing picnic in a few months. Thanks so much for giving us yet another little adventure to add to the story of our day!

For more information on the history of Long Pond and iron mines and furnaces in this region, I highly recommend James M. Ransom’s book “Vanishing Ironworks of the Ramapos: the Story of the Forges, Furnaces, and Mines of the New Jersey-New York Border Area.” It is held by a number of local libraries.

Zhanna

… Signing the logbook, looking harried at the end of a busy but fabulous day!

… Rich presents his buttons and the cache container!