Showing posts with label out of the way. Show all posts
Showing posts with label out of the way. Show all posts

Saturday, May 14, 2011

Gravity Hill in Numidia, Pennsylvania


The name of the town invokes mysticism, magic and mystery. The fact that only roughly 250 people live in this tiny village certainly doesn’t hurt the mystery. That makes the tiny town of Numidia pretty easy to miss.
There are a couple of reasons to visit this sleepy town. In fact if you’re a racing lover, this place will appeal to you even more. One of the biggest attractions Numidia is known for is its drag strip. Thousands of spectators flock every year to the Numidia Dragstrip to watch rocket fueled cars race down the ¼ mile speedway.
Yet there’s another spot in this mountain village that not many know about, but those that do get to test their own cars out on this magical spot. Instead of diving as fast as you can down a straightaway, here you do almost the exact opposite. With little help from you other than a gear shift, you can drive your car backwards up a hill, while in neutral on the rural road known as Gravity Hill. Locals have been challenging each other for years to defy gravity. Placing your car in neutral on the right spot gives the illusion that your car is rolling uphill on its own. There are numerous of these gravity hills located throughout the world. Most claim that there are magnetic pulls or supernatural powers at work. That’s why you’re able to defy gravity. The fact that this gravity hill is quite rural, yet easily found helps it to stand out above some others. It’s also mainly only known to the locals, and is not used to attract tourists, and being in a town called Numidia, well, that’s just pure magic.
Video ride on Gravity Hill

Lost Riverboat in Shartlesville, Pennsylvania

Marooned not too far from the wondrous attraction known as Roadside America lies an old riverboat looking oddly out of place. The dilapidated boat lies detached in an open field, far from the days of entertaining guests off the coast of New York and New Jersey. Originally the riverboat was built in Minnesota and was named the "Suwannee Belle." The riverboat spent slightly more then a decade elating tourists from all over the world. It was eventually decommissioned in 1991. After a failed attempt as a restaurant the "Suwannee Belle" sat in a New Jersey storage unit until 2003. At this point the riverboat was purchased and was finding a new home in rural Shartlesville, Pennsylvania. The original owner had planned to use the riverboat as a tiki bar, unfortunately his dreams never came to fruition. Since then it has sat in this remote field never fully living up to the potential it seemingly had just a few short years ago. The new owners of the nearby restaurant continue to pay homage to the lost riverboat, having named their venture the Riverboat Saloon.

Sunday, May 8, 2011

Whistler's Mother Monument

"A Mother is the holiest thing alive," Samuel Taylor Coleridge wrote. The folks of Ashland, Pennsylvania agree. They have an 8 feet tall bronze statue to prove it. During FDR's presidency, there was a movement by the government to help small towns build an identity for themselves, and Ashland wanted a part of this. In 1937 the Ashland Boys association wanted a way to honor their mothers. They'd get that help from the federal government. After planning and voting, they agreed it should be a bronze statue of James McNeil's famous 1871 painting, "Arrangement in Grey and Black: Portrait of the Painter's Mother," also known as Whistler's Mother. If you've seen the painting with the artist's mother, Anna Matilda McNeil Whistler, her blank, humorless expression doesn't exactly exuberate "mother of the year." Unfortunately for McNeil's mother she never realized how infamous she would become, she died in 1881, before her son ever became famous. I bet she never thought there would be a monument made in her likeness, either.

Needless to say I guess this was the boy's epitome of motherhood. On September 4, 1938, two local mothers- the oldest in the town at the time, 88 and 91 years old- unveiled the eight-foot statue seated on a three ton slab of granite. The monument is recognized as the only one of it's kind in the country. If you're in the mood for a salute to motherhood unlike anything else, this is the monument for you.

Those Ashland boys sure are show-offs, this pales in comparison to the card I got my mother last year. By the way the Boy's Association is still very active in Ashland and every year they host a parade that attracts thousands!
For other nearby Outta the Way spots!

Friday, May 6, 2011

Guest Blog: Ghost Hunting Theories-Abandoned and Paniced

I’d passed this two-story building a dozens of times when I was growing up. My family would pile into the station wagon and drive to the mountains of West Virginia to visit my mother’s family. It was a ritual we did several times every year. The building sat across from our motel and I would skip across the road to buy candy.

Now, however, the building has been abandoned for decades. I have come back to visit my siblings who ended up settling in the hills and the cousins and aunts and uncles and miscellaneous other distant family.

This time, however, I study the building with a frown in the setting sunlight.

Branches and limbs have grown through the concrete out front and a tree is growing inside the front window. I peer through the broken glass to study the shelving units drooping and the Coke machine that had faded in the slant of sunlight that comes through the windows nearby.

I back up and look at the painted brick walls and faded sign, vines growing up it and engulfing the side of the building as if nature is reclaiming the structure.

A car passes by slowly and someone glares at me. I’m used to that. The folks in these hills know an outsider when they see one. I slip around the building to the side, out of sight, and lean through a broken out window to inspect piles of clothing, clothing racks, chairs, a TV turned upside down. The smell is rank and stale, a mixture of mold, pine oils from a nearby tree and musty wet dust.

I cough.

Then, I look around me. I can’t help it. An abandoned building, lots of weird archaeological finds…I love places that have been left as-is and possessions left to age and weather, rot and be claimed by the earth…

I step through the window and tug my jean leg loose from the nail sticking out and stumble right into a mirror propped up against a coat rack. I slip off the slick glass and fall onto a stack of books with an “oomph!” The wind is knocked right out of me.

I laugh.

When I turn my head, I realize that the side door was wide open right beside the window, had I walked a few feet more. No need to bruise my ribs. I dust myself off and tip toe over the piles of miscellaneous items from a hair dryer to a pile of clothing and then stop short in amazement. Someone has left tea cups on saucers and a hot plate near the wall.

I look around and then inspect the rotted box of biscuits nearby and look into the dirty dry cups. Whoever was squatting there was gone for some time.

I can’t help myself; I see the open door into the hall and have to climb through the clothing rack to check it out. I stumble through and find the hall completely empty. I am rather surprised by that find.

I walk the length of it, stopping in the doorways to look into rooms that are equally crammed with random things from tables to dishes, wrappers to bottles and cans. The moldy smell makes me sneeze several times and I study the origins of dripping water. It’s coming from the second story and not a really good sign of what’s upstairs.

The stairwell at the end draws my eyes, but I’m not certain about how stable the building is. I know it’s at least 30 years old, but I’m certain it’s more likely 50. Still, I figure I can test a step or two and see what it offers.

Just as I step onto the first stair, I look over into a huge room filled with junk, but not like the other rooms. This one is lined up as if someone was trying to sort through it or make sense of it.

I’m curious by nature, I have to explore.

So, I walk into the huge warehouse-like room and study the padded ground. Small beds are lined up, made of leftover clothing and some kind of sofa cushions. There are four of them in the room, all along the walls. I squint across the darkening room to see a shape and I gasp and duck back into the hallway, peering cautiously to see if the human figure moves.

It stays much too still to be a person.

I step back into the room and walk between piles of like items; backpacks in one row, fishing poles in another. It appears to me like some kind of crazy Dr. Seuss experiment. Then, my foot falls into a crack in the floor and I yank my sneakered foot from it in pain. My eyes settle on the mannequin figure. Someone has dressed it in a bikini and drawn an exaggerated smile on its face from a tube of lipstick in its hand. I run my fingers over the lipstick. It is hardened and dried on. The broken windows nearby are covered with the vines and the light of the day is almost all gone.

If I stay any longer, I will be there in the dark without light.

When I turn to walk away, something catches my eye. There is a cooler up against the wall. I open it up, afraid of rats or bugs pouring out of it, only to find icy sludge in the bottom of it and a six-pack of beers with one beer missing. I put my hand into the freezing water and a chill runs up my spine. I see a line of melted candles atop of a loose floorboard and a pack of matches.

It’s not the cold doing it.

Someone is staying there and considers this a home of sorts. I have just encroached on what looks like four adult’s home for the night.

When I spin around to leave, the stairs call to me. I wonder what’s up there, but I also wonder why water is dripping down below from above. That could mean a hole in the ceiling, weak floors…

But, I’ve come this far and if the people aren’t back at nighttime, then they are likely at the bar across the street on the riverfront.

Knowing I won’t try it a second time, I go up the stairs cautiously. They are stable and strong. It’s a good sign. I can barely see as I turn the corner up to the second set of stairs and then I see light. Not bright light, but lingering daylight. There is a hole in the ceiling. My eyes rivet to the room and realize that someone has over the years removed walls from the upstairs. A bathtub sits on the floor in the middle of an empty space. I walk over to it and look at the hole in the ceiling at the darkening sky. It appears that rain fills up the tub.

I lean over and watch as a leaf floats across the murky water. There is a bar of soap on the rim of the tub, worn down to a thin sliver.

Someone has been using this rain tub. There are towels across the space draped over the lower half of a half torn-out wall. I wonder at the person who can live in these conditions, especially in a mountain wintertime when it comes around.

Maybe this is just the summer home?

Afraid to test the floorboards, I go back downstairs. When I hit the bottom step, I hear voices. I stop and listen, holding my breath. I can hear them walking alongside the building and their voices coming through the broken windows. The hall is dark now and I creep down to the end of it, debating whether I can go back out the way I came in, which is where the people are, or if I should try to make my getaway through the front of the shop that opens onto the riverfront street.

When I hear shuffling in the “living room,” I realize the people are home for the night and I’m in their territory. I back up into the front room of the store. Outside the moonlight is starting to glow on the rushing river across the street. I hear the sounds from the bar and cars slowing down to pull up for a Saturday night of revelry.

A car pulls into the parking lot of the empty building and the headlights move across me in the large open room. I duck behind the bar counter and my mind races.

Could it be the cops? Some people joining the others?

The space I’m hiding in doesn’t provide much get-away. If someone entered through the broken windows of the store, they would walk right past me and if they looked down—there I’d be.

I will myself to become invisible.

Then, I hear the thumping bass of a radio in the car out front. It sounds like teens laughing and talking but the car is idling, the lights making the room so bright that if I try to leave, I will definitely be seen, not to mention this is my only way out at this point unless I want to disturb the squatters.

Minutes tick by, the radio booming, the voices rising up. Someone at the end of the hall doesn’t like it. He yells loudly and I realize at any time he could hike down the hallway to the front of the store and right past me. I tuck myself in against the wall, praying that with the lack of light I will become invisible. My fingers touch the counter and I realize I can scoot it slightly, able to drag it enough to remain hidden.

The occupant rushes the hallway, screaming like a maniac in a hillbilly dialect that I am not at all acquainted with; and I have heard them all. For a delirious minute, I want to giggle at how stupid this whole idea was and how I manage to get myself into these situations and how his voice sounds like some freaky rural Scottish dialect and not English.

He pounds the frame of the broken display window at the storefront and the horn on the car sounds a bunch of times. Laughter rises up and the car pulls out of the gravel driveway and takes off, leaving me completely in the dark with this angry redneck who is also territorial.

I force my mind away from “The Hills Have Eyes” and “Wrong Turn,” but I shiver anyways. One thing I know about panic is that once you let in a forbidden thought, it becomes a focus and obsession. Now, I can’t stop thinking of whether I’m going to end up in pieces packed into the cooler with the melting ice at the end of the night.

He hasn’t left the front room and I’m trying desperately to not sneeze, not cough, not make a sound of breathing. My knees are shaking wildly because I’m down on the balls of my feet and crouched, but if I try to resettle, he will hear me in the stillness, even with the country-western music playing in the bar across the street, the room is eerily still.

He paces the room and grumbles to himself and then I hear him pick up something and throw it, crashing the last bit of glass in the window.

When he races past me to the back of the building, I wait a time. I know that if I go soon, he will rush out thinking it was the teens again. I also know that without their radio blaring, he will hear me shuffle the bar aside to get out of my crouching spot.

It’s come to my realization that if I just shove it back and run, I only have 20 feet to go before I’m outside. I doubt the hillbilly with the weird dialect is going to chase me down into the bar across the way.

My desire to flee is stronger than my commonsense and I shove at the bar only to find there is something obstructing it and I have pushed it past that obstruction, causing it to fall forward. My arms flail to grab it back, but it collapses like a mighty earthquake with a dust cloud.

Now, I’m sprinting to the windows and the tiny light I see outside the door of the bar across the way. The redneck is in the hall and pounding the walls with something metallic.

As I vault out the window and into the gravel driveway, I realize my car is down the street at the Dairy Queen where I left it when I went for my stupid walk.

Breathlessly I pump my legs, not looking back, sprinting into the street and past the taxidermy shop with the creepy stuffed bear on its porch, past the smelly bait and tackle shop and then I realize two things:

There are no streetlights or cars and there is someone in the gravel chasing me still!

I fumble through my pocket as I gasp for air and pull out my keys and rush to click them into the door lock and get inside. The rental car is unfamiliar. I laugh hysterically out of fright at my ridiculous redneck chase scene and turn on the car, flicking on the lights and seeing him about 50 feet away with the iron bar in his hand. It looks like a towel rack. He's swaying and swinging it over his head as he hollers.

I feel safe now and secure, but still I wonder if he’ll come at the car with the weapon, so I turn and go the other direction back to the hotel.

NOTE: I still go into abandoned places, but now I make sure there aren’t squatters first. I start out by making plenty of warning sounds for them to come greet me outside instead of in. I look for signs of habitation that are current. I listen carefully for anyone approaching. And, I always bring someone as a guard and lookout.

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Monday, May 2, 2011

Twin Covered Bridges


If you're looking for one of the most unique covered bridges in the world, you can find it in the county of Columbia in Pennsylvania.

The county boasts 23 covered bridges, the third most of any county in Pennsylvania, which has more than any other state. However none of the bridges are as exquisite as the East and West Paden covered bridges. These two unmatched bridges were built in 1850 by W.C. Pennington. Both of these magnificent marvels are the Burr-Arch design, a very popular design used on numerous covered bridges in Pennsylvania. The twin bridges were named for a local sawmill operator named John Paden. The two bridges cross over the Huntington creek. The smaller East Paden bridge, measures only 79 feet long, while the larger West Paden bridge measures 103 feet long. Both bridges were built for a paltry $720.00. The bridges were used for transportation purposes for a little over a century.

In 1962 the county began preservation efforts after the bridges began to weather away. By 1963, they were left open only for foot traffic.

The original bridges were restored and left intact until 45 years later when in 2006 a torrential flood washed away the original West Paden covered bridge. The county struck back as hard as the storm that washed away their history. In 2008 the West Paden bridge was finished and re-opened. Thanks to the hard work of the county these engineering marvels are still standing for all to enjoy. The twin bridges are now a part of a county park and have the distinction of being the only twin covered bridges in the United States.

The park is quite peaceful and serene, allowing you to emancipate yourself in all the surrounding beauty, both natural and man made!

Zine featuring Twin Bridges and other local Outta the Way spots.
Video of Twin Bridges

Sunday, May 1, 2011

National Sharing Month

May is National sharing Month, we here at Outta the Way are celebrating by allowing you to guest blog for us. If you have an intriguing or weird place you have visited and care to share, let us know and you may be featured as a guest blogger. If interested you may contact us by e-mail at Outtaway@hotmail.com
All who contribute will receive a free color PDF zine!

Thursday, April 28, 2011

PDF Zines

Tired of paying for shipping? Zines are now available as a printable color PDF.
Available as a single issue for $3.00, or get a subscription and have one sent to your e-mail every month.

For ordering info. click here!
B & W zines still available on Etsy!
Shop us in person at B.B. Bellezza inside Building Character.
Help to support local and indie business, and have fun going Outta the Way!

Saturday, April 23, 2011

Gravity Hill Lewisberry, Pennsylvania

In the small town of Lewisberry, Pennsylvania lies a strange road that most of the locals know about. Pleasant View road or ghost hill, as it's commonly referred to, is what is known as a gravity hill. There are lots of these hills around the world, including one in Bedford county, Pennsylvania that the county uses to attract tourists. The county of York doesn't advertise theirs, nor do they encourage the tourist traffic there.

If you never experienced a gravity road, or have never heard of one let us explain. On a gravity hill, you put your car into neutral and it rolls back UP the hill. Bottles, balls, or empty cans will appear to roll uphill. It seems impossible. It seems to break all laws of gravity. There is no real explanation for this phenomenon, other than that it is an optical illusion. Since I am not a surveyor, I'm not positive of this, but it certainly seems to be the most likely explanation.

As with most of these places there are tales of ghosts and the supernatural at work. The most often told tale associated with this mysterious spot involves the local football team. The story states that in the 1970's the local high school football team lost the brakes on their bus. The bus continued to roll through the intersection, and ran over the adjacent hill top. There were no survivors. To prevent this from happening again, the deceased football players push your car back up the hill so you don't meet the same fate as they did. It's said that if you put a a white powder or flour on the hood of your vehicle you'll see hand prints. Outta the Way has tried this and all we noticed was a mess. But until the day we can hire a surveyor, we're gonna continue to believe it's the lineman of the local football team pushing us back, push 'em back, waaayyy baaacckk!!
More local Outta the Way places

Thursday, April 21, 2011

Abandoned Route 61 in Centralia




The Route 61 highway traverses travelers approximately 81 miles north and southbound through the commonwealth of Pennsylvania. Though there's a small stretch of this road that hasn't been used for travel in over 15 years. Though it's still a hot spot... literally! In 1994 the department of transportation rerouted a mile long stretch of this road after being severely damaged by the underground mine fire in nearby Centralia.

Today the road is a popular destination for urban explorers and apparently aspiring graffiti artists,though I wouldn't call much of it art. The road has an extremely haunting appeal to it, I personally kept feeling as though someone was following behind me. Walking down this lost highway gives you a very eerie feeling, not sure if it's from the noxious fumes emanating from below the asphalt, or the buckling of the highway but I kept getting the feeling of vertigo. Seeing the man-made destruction that's taking place here is a sight to behold, both from the obscene graffiti, to the mammoth coal industry that helped to build a town and also destroy it!




Zine featuring Centralia & other nearby Outta the Way places.

Video of Route 61

Saturday, April 16, 2011

The Witches/Devils' Triangle

*WARNING* The following tale is quite graphic and may not be suitable for children!

Located near the lush greens of the Rolling Pines golf course sits a wooded area full of decay and darkness. This tiny patch of woods is thought to carry a dark, and morbid history. Commonly the area is referred to as the witches' triangle. This is due to it's association with hangings during the 19th century. Some young ladies from the area used to congregate in the woods here. The locals fearing a nationwide spread of witchcraft abducted the teenage girls. They were then hung from the same trees in which the young ladies enjoyed frolicking amongst.

Though other locals tell of a even more sinister tale. Some refer to this wooded grove as the devils' triangle. These stories stem mainly from the decrepit farmhouse and barn that still rest on this forbidden property. There's an extremely disturbing tale of a family who once resided in the home. One somber evening, in a fit of pent up rage a mad husband portrayed acts of violence amongst his family members that is truly gruesome. The stories claim the man both sexually and physically violated his unsuspecting victims before hacking their bodies into pieces. He then proceeded to sprawl their blood allover the walls of the home. The man then vanished into the darkness of the trees where he would end his own life.

There are many who doubt the validity of either of these stories, and there are just as many who claim to have felt an extremely dangerous energy emanating from this mysterious thicket. Whichever you believe these urban legends are keeping the youth of Berwick excited as they dare each other to enter this house of horrors. It's also keeping the local police department busy issuing citations for trespassing!

Sunday, April 10, 2011

Columbia County, Pennsylvania



In the 20th zine of Outta the Way we take a hike into the mountains of Columbia county, Pennsylvania. First we'll stroll back up a hill and defy the laws of gravity in a sleepy rural town with an ancient name. Next we'll pay a visit to a remote church with enough urban legends to send a tingle up your spine, and keep it in your mind forever. Then it's off to a creepy cemetery to find a set of graves hidden beneath iron cages. Lastly we take a quiet peaceful stroll along a tiny riverbed to discover an historical and architectural landmark.

So get outta the way, we're going Outta the Way!

Friday, April 8, 2011

Gravity Road: Bedford County Pennsylvania

Looking for a place to defy gravity? Located on the back roads of New Paris, Pennsylvania lies one such spot. On Gravity Hill Road you can watch balls, bottles and liquids roll uphill. If you’re brave enough, you can put your car in neutral and roll right up the hill with it.

Gravity hills are located throughout the world. They are located in Barbados, Scotland, Portugal and Korea, as well as hundreds of other locations. >Though most don’t advertise theirs as a tourist stop as much as the County of Bedford. The Visitors Bureau offers maps, t-shirts, bumper stickers and even hats advertising the location.

The apparent finding of this particular spot seems pretty likely.Shortly after World War II, the local postman put his automobile in neutral while he sorted the daily mail. What an amazing surprise he got when he then realized he rolled up the hill.

So how is all this possible? Is it a magnetic pull, an optical illusion, a lack of gravity or spirits pushing you back? We think we know the answer but suggest that you just give a visit and decide for yourself.

More on Gravity Road and other nearby Outta the Way spots

Thursday, March 24, 2011

Outta the Way! on YouTube


A little more then a year ago I was getting ready to celebrate another birthday, certainly a time not many look forward to. In my opinion it's all pretty much downhill after 21. I greatly appreciate all the wisdom I have learned from that point on, but how many people say I can't wait until I'm 40, think of how much I will have learned! But no matter what age, birthdays are always an important milestone that need to be celebrated. My girlfriend has been particularly amazing in this category, due to the fact that my birthday falls shortly after the New Year it's quite easy to forget through all the stressful festivities that precede it. She's never been one to make me feel forgotten. As the days to my birthday drew closer I still had no idea what I wanted for a present, I'm usually just as overwhelmed as everyone else is during this time. Finally after seeing numerous Flip video commercials, I jokingly, but with seriousness asked for this new gadget. I'm not the type who has to have all the new electronics as soon as they hit the market, just take a look at my VHS collection, but I felt this would be a great marketing tool for my business.

Quickly after getting the Flip camera I began to travel to places I had already visited so I could document my trips in a whole new format. I found making the videos became an integral part of our explorations, it allowed me to show my fans and followers a more fluid journey along with us. Film and cinema have always played an important role in my life, now I felt as though I was the director of my own little adventures.

In slightly over one years time I put together nearly 90 movies of our mysterious journeys. During this time I have been able to discover the marketing power of YouTube as a social network. I have found my videos get shared quite often and some have reached over a few thousand views, and have helped to contribute to more sales in my shop. Thanks to the magic of Flip video and YouTube, I have found a more exciting way to network my business, and help generate a bit more income.

Our YouTube channel


Sunday, March 13, 2011

Mister Ed's Elephant Museum




Located west of Gettysburg in the small town of Orrtanna, Pennsylvania, a unique place catches your eye. The 9 1/2 foot tall elephant along the road is a good indication you're in for a special treat. This elephant will even teach you about the area, tell a few jokes, then gets ready to go back to napping. Her name is Miss Ellie, she's operated by an electric eye and has moving eyes and ears. Her owner, Mr. Ed Gotwalt has become sort of fascinated with these docile creatures.

Ed received his first elephant in 1967 as a wedding gift. Elephants are thought to bring good luck, particularly if it's trunk is in the air. Ed started out in the peanut business - in fact he still is. Guess who ever got Ed this gift had quite a sense of humor. Ed then began collecting elephants himself, figuring it would help to promote his peanut business. Ed's collection began to grow and in 1975 his wife made him open a museum, as they were beginning to overcome their home.

Inside the museum you'll find over 6,000 elephants. Included are toys, pins, stuffed animals, and collectibles. Mister Ed's has the distinction of being one of the largest and most unique elephant collections in the world. Though on a somber summer day in 2010, some vandals found enjoyment in destroying one man's passion. Mister Ed's Elephant Museum became a target of arson. The fire destroyed nearly 1/3 of Ed's collection. Thankfully lots of community support helped to liven the spirits of Ed. More than 1,000 elephants were donated to help build the museum collection.

Having never been dissuaded helped Mister Ed to re-live his dream, a brand new elephant museum has recently opened. Complete with two new elephant sculptures created out of the salvaged pieces and remains of the former collectibles that were destroyed.

Mister Ed is even sort of a celebrity in the area as he's been featured in the offbeat comedy "Route 30", and will make a return in the upcoming sequel. After enjoying all of Mister Ed's elephants be sure to visit the candy room, one of the largest in the area specializing in candy from the 5 and dime days. And of course Ed still carries his famous roasted peanuts, what better way to celebrate a day of elephants and a man's passion than with a big bag of peanuts.

Inside look at original Mister Ed's

Return look at New Mister Ed's

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

St. Nicholas Coal Breaker

The St. Nicholas Coal Breaker, outside of Mahanoy City, is an imposing abandoned industrial mammoth to behold. One time it was the largest coal breaker in the world. Now it lies empty as if the world around it just ended. The place is still in decent shape, despite 45 years of being forgotten. Reports from those who have been on the inside say it looks as though everyone just left one day and never returned. Aside from a lot of broken windows, the place has seemed to not be succumbed with the normal graffiti that happens with places like this.

The breaker started operation in 1932 and was owned by the Reading Anthracite Company. The breaker is so large that half of the village of nearby Suffolk was relocated to make room.

A coal breaker does just what its name says: breaks coal into various sizes to be used in furnaces. During its heyday, the breaker would produce 12,500 tons of coal a day. The setup was so efficient it took only 12 minutes for the raw coal to pass through the entire production process. The breaker was in operation for 31 years before closing in 1963. The breaker consists of 3,800 tons of steel, 10,000 cubic yards of concrete, 1 ½ miles of conveyors, 20 miles of piping and 118 miles of wire and cable. Quite an impressive feat of engineering, if you ask me.

Outta the Way recommends getting a glimpse of this massive factory before it’s sure to meet its demise, the wrecking ball.

Monday, February 28, 2011

Ghost Dogs of Cornwall Funace



The Cornwall furnace in Lebanon county is one of the most storied and historic furnaces in North America. The furnace was originally established in 1742 by Peter Grubb. Peter seemed to be very successful with running the furnace. At one time Pennsylvania made a vast majority of the world's iron, Cornwall being one of it's top producers. But Peter may have had a dark side.
One of the most horrifying tales about Peter surround him and his proud hunting dogs. Mr. Grubb was an avid hunter and a dog enthusiast. He was also known to work his dogs to extreme measures, in order to be sure they were the best. One particular day Peter was bragging to his friend about his canines amazing hunting skills. However on this day the dogs wouldn't live up to Peter's expectations. According to legend, Peter's friend began to jokingly insult the exhausted pups, which began to enrage Peter. But what he proceeded to do would shock and horrify the locals. Peter gathered some of the furnace workers and had them help in exterminating the defenseless dogs. Peter rounded up the dogs and began to burn them alive in the fiery hot furnace, saving his most prized pooch for last. Peter Grubb was said to be forever haunted by the terrible deed he had done, he would often hear phantom barks and felt otherworldly eyes often watching him. Seems the dogs wanted to remain a constant reminder to Peter for the heinous acts he committed.

More on the Cornwall furnace and other nearby spots

Saturday, February 26, 2011

Roadside GIANTS- The Rootbeer Barrel


Back in 1969 while enjoying a few beers with a friend, Bill Schwarz popped off an idea that would change his life and his neighbors life for a long time. He decided to build a snack stand and sell roadside munchies near the resort town of Mt. Gretna. What set his stand apart from the others was it's odd structure. He chose to build a giant root beer barrel to set his shop up in, and of course one of their specialties was root beer right from a tap. The local landmark had become a roadside favorite for travelers along route 72.

After many years of wear and tear the barrel began to fall into disarray. Fortunately a local Eagle scout, with the assistance of Bill, were able to rebuild this roadside giant using much of the original lumber. For this Outta the Way would like to send a toast to Bill for his creative imagination, and to the local scouts for making sure a dream never dies!

Watch the barrel's return!

History & Mystery at Inn 422




Inn 422 is a Victorian style Bed and Breakfast with enough history and mysteries to fascinate even the most skeptical. The original home on the property was built by Robert and Anna Coleman. The Coleman family was one of the wealthiest and most prestigious families in the nation. The home would be for their daughter Anne Caroline, a recent law school graduate of Dickinson College. Anne would have only a short time on this world, but she definitely made her impact felt.

During her short and tumultuous life she had practiced law at what would eventually become the Lebanon Historical Society. Besides being a successful lawyer, she also caught the eye of a young man full of aspiration; a man her family didn’t approve of. Even though this young lad was a recent law graduate himself, the Coleman family felt he was only after their money. In those times most wealthy families pre-arranged marriages, so when the two became engaged, her parents became enraged. After being forced by her parents to split, Anne became quite depressed and eventually committed suicide on an overdose of Laudanum while visiting Philadelphia. Her would be suitor who was deemed not good enough for the family became heartbroken and vowed to remain a bachelor forever. He stuck with that vow until the day he died, and is forever remembered as the only bachelor President, James Buchanon. Upon President Buchanon’s death, he had all memories and photos of Anne burned and destroyed.

By the 1880’s, the former home of Anne was replaced by the current residence that now sits in its place. The home was built for the Superintendents of the Lebanon Coke and Iron Plant. Eventually the home was transformed into the Bed and Breakfast it is today. Though the home has changed, not all believe the history or the mystery is forgotten. Anne’s spirit is known to still frequent the Inn, keeping overnight visitors restless as she opens and closes windows and doors, and is particularly fond of rearranging the pillows on the bed.

More on Inn 422 and other Outta the Way spots




Thursday, February 24, 2011

Old York County Prison, Pennsylvania

Near the York Revolution baseball stadium, lies an imposing fortress of abandonment, and solitude. The original prison on this sight was built in 1853, with it's imposing castle facade, it was sure to intimidate. The trapdoor near the warden's office used for hangings didn't hurt, either.

Designed by B.F. Willis, there was originally a complex of several other buildings right next to the prison, including the York poorhouse, and a hospital, which have since made way for an elementary school.

Today the prison still stands, although the castle facade was torn down when construction was done to the prison. In 1908, during re-construction there was almost an uproar at the prison, as inmates got very anxious over a fire that had started over some faulty construction equipment. During the 1950's, the prison again received some more bad press when overcrowded prisoners were forced to stay in padded cells. There are also stories of segregation and misuse of African-American inmates during this time as well. But one of the most disturbing tales of this time tells of inmates being forced to eat road kill and venison the deputies would gather up along the roads. The prison eventually closed in 1979 when a newly expansive super-maximum facility was built in Springettsbury Township.

One of the most interesting things about this place is that it's for sale. Having been on the market since 2007, several investors have had a few great ideas, such as a nightclub, hotel, Halloween attraction, and even a restaurant. At 30,000 square feet seems like they all could work. Guess they couldn't come up with the 3.9 million asking price.

Aside from the desolateness of the place, there's still some prison flair left in the place. A few of the cells have hand carved drawings in them, including one with a portrait of Jimi Hendrix, surrounded by titles of many popular songs from eras past.

The prison is not open to the public and is posted with "no trespassing" signs. We would not recommend taking any visits to the inside without permission of the real estate company which owns the property. Several inside visitors have noticed use of the prison by homeless squatters and addicts, although for the right price it could be yours. Just let them know Outta the Way sent you, we could use the $25,000 finders fee!

Video of Old Prison
An inside look

Sunday, February 20, 2011

Pennsylvania Fossil Hunting


Most people aren't aware that 375 million years ago in Pennsylvania, there was a shallow ocean. It was located near what is now the Swatara State park. Of course over time this ocean dried up, but there are still remnants to be found. Fossil hunters from all around have come to dig through the sedimentary rocks that formed in the ocean, hoping to find a rare fossil.

The most popular and most often found fossil in Pennsylvania is Phacops Rana, which is also the state fossil. This organism was known as a tribolite, which is an extinct category of jointed-legged animals. The Phacops Rana is thought to be the very first organism known to have eyes, and they were quite large as well. They also had numerous appendages which were used for walking, swimming, and also feeding. This organism would be closely related to crabs, lobsters, and insects, and like these creatures it also had a hard exoskeleton.

This fossil is particularly common in the central Pennsylvania area, but finding a complete specimen is quite rare. If you wish to try your luck finding the state fossil or other fossils, visit the fossil pit at Swatara State Park.