Day 70: Ashtabula Superfund Site, White Turkey, Coraline

Day 70: Thursday August 14, 2014.
Geneva On The Lake, OH to Erie, PA.  65.3 miles.

I fell asleep last night to the sound of distant waves on Lake Erie crashing on the shore.  The frequency is much more consistent, at regular intervals, a noticeable contrast to the waves of the Pacific Ocean along the coast of California that commonly arrive in sets.  As I awoke this morning, the same soothing sounds pinned me down to the floor of my tent, making it difficult to get up.

Once on the move, I made my way back to "the strip" in search of breakfast.  The town was quiet this morning, with only a few people milling about, and most of the restaurants closed.

The Sunrise Cafe was my destination.  Their menu includes a note of warning that all breakfast plates are served with a hearty helping of attitude.

While taking a front-row seat at the bar to take in the action of the small kitchen, one of the chefs walked over to the window and proceeded to yell at one of the customers seated outside, "If you want more coffee, get up and get it yourself you lazy bum!"  He then said to me softly, "It's important to remind people once in a while that they are alive."

I was served a nice breakfast of eggs, potatoes, sausage, and toast.  The chef/owner chatted with me about my trip.  He asked me, "What's one thing you learned?"  I thought about it for a minute, not having been asked such a thing before.  "One thing I have observed over and over across the U.S. is that the middle-class, and small town America, are really struggling.", I told him.  But, despite those struggles, "The American spirit of friendliness and generosity are still alive."

Hearing what I had to say, he told me about the next town I would be riding through today - Ashtabula, OH.  It was a town that once had lots of manufacturing jobs, but so many of the companies have moved out of the area that a significant portion of the town is shuttered up, and the jobs are few and far between for those living there.

Much of Geneva-On-The-Lake has survived by way of tourism.  Many of the waterfront properties consist of cottage rentals with easy access to the beach.

Parks along the lake were common, and offered a peaceful oasis to relax and take in the beauty of the expansive views.

Riding through Ashtabula, I stopped along the River with the same name to take in a little history.  The harbor here became a direct route to ship iron ore to the booming steel mills in Youngstown and Pittsburgh once the railroad connecting these three towns was completed in 1873.  It continued to be a commercial and shipping hub from the late 19th through mid 20th centuries.

During the height of the industry in the late 1950's, up to 19 industrial facilities operated along the river and it's tributary, producing metal products and chemicals.  A lack of any environmental regulation at the time led to discharges of toxins into the river by these industries, including Polychlorinated Biphenyls (PCBs).

Serious contamination of the Ashtabula river, mainly concentrated in the sediments along the river bed, and extending out into the harbor, resulted in a Federal Superfund cleanup effort.  But, the contaminated sediments still remain a challenge, and cleanup still continues.  Most of those compaines are gone, either by way of closing their doors, or moving their operations overseas to countries where environmental regulations don't exist or rival that of the 1950's.  But taxpayers continue to fund clean up their mess here in Ashtabula, where the river was named one of the 43 most contaminated areas of concern in the Great Lakes Region.

The heavy environmental toll with industrialization isn't just a thing of the past.  A bit further, I passed yet another coal-fired power plant with dual smoke stacks.  Massive piles of coal lined the shore nearby.

On several occasions along my trip, I have tried to dodge or hold my breath while passing by the clouds of pesticide/herbicide/fungicide being blown onto fields.  Talking to one orchard farmer, I learned that once the trees begin to blossom, applications are applied as frequently as every 7 days.

The depressing situation in Ashtabula had me working up an appetite.  Just a few miles from the Pennsylvania border, I found just the distraction I needed - the "White Turkey Drive-In" featuring RICHardson Root Beer, in Conneaut, OH.

The outside counter wrapped around the action of this family-owned diner running since 1952.

Operating a turkey farm, the original owners, Eddie and Marge Tuttle, wanted to create a menu item that would showcase their delicious farm-raised White Holland breed of turkey.  They invented a deliciously seasoned, and incredible juicy, shredded turkey sandwich, comparable to a juicy pulled-pork.

And, they brought in the famous Richardson's root beer.  Poured out of an oak barrel, on a busy day it's not uncommon that the employees have to change out the barrel once every 45 minutes.

When I sat down, a young girl greeted me with a smile and placed a card in front of me that read, "Molly is your server today."  In a few minutes, they brought out their signature turkey sandwich.  The bun was lightly toasted, with a bit of butter and salt crusted on the top.  Had I known it was going to be so good, I would have ordered 2 sandwiches and skipped the fries.

A family sat down along the bar, the father next to me.  He commented that the last time he was here, he was 15 years old.  He saw my bike and we chatted for a while.  A bicyclist himself, he was so excited to learn about my adventure, and insisted on buying my lunch.

I had been recently reminded to keep an eye on my sugar-fat consumption while on this trip.  Sitting in front of the root beer barrel, watching one root beer float after another being created, there was no way I was going to pass this up.  But, they had a "kiddie" size, slightly larger than a shot glass.  It was the perfect compromise, and the presentation was the grand finale to my experience at this place built upon the committment to offer quality and fun at an affordable price.

A few miles further, I crossed the state line into Pennsylvania.

Old farm houses, barns, and silos were common.  I found a silo alongside the road made out of red brick, the first I had seen made this way.

Down the road, I came to a plaque marking the old state line.  Prior to the purchase of the Erie "Triangle" in 1792, Pennsylvania's border didn't connect with Lake Erie, putting PA at a huge disadvantage relative to it's neighbors, OH and NY, with regards to transportation and trade via Lake Erie.  The purchase of the small section of land to include shoreline cost $151,640.25.

In Pennsylvania, while an occasional corn or soybean field could be found, grape vines also began to appear on the landscape here and there.

And, as I rode into the town of Perry, big plant nurseries covered most of the non-residential land.  In the distance along the shore of Erie, double smoke stacks sat ominously, steam rising out from one of them.  These weren't the tall, skinny stacks common to coal-fired power plants that are common to Erie's shore.  These were cyllindrical, short, and fat.  They were components of the Perry Nuclear Power Plant, commissioned in 1987 after a construction cost of $6 billion.  In between towns, and where agriculture was absent, forests of mature hardwoods were plentiful.

Home to Penn State University in the town of State College, even folks in this far-removed corner of the state are proud football fans.

I arrived at Erie, PA, my destination for the day, to stay with Kristen Bessetti and her fiance Kris Nielsen.  Kristen is the daughter of one of the hardest-working TA's in the Earth Science Department at Grossmont College, Pattie Bessetti.  They have been following my adventure, and were excited to host me in Erie.  

The natural harbor, created by the peninsula known as Presque Isle has made Erie a natural choice for settlement and industry for a long time, with history of the bay's use to include ships harboring during the War of 1812.  Arriving in town, I caught a glimpse of the  bay with Presque Isle visible in the distance.

Erie has been struggling economically with the decline of industry in the U.S.  One of the big employers in the city, General Electric, has been intermittently laying off workers for some time here.  The GE plant in town manufactures train locomotives and associated parts.  Consequently, some locals in reference to Erie will say, "At least it's not Detriot."  The town also has a reputation for the ill-effects of industry on the environment.  In an article in USA today, an Erie school in close proximity to a smokestack ranked in the 5th percentile as the worst exposure in the nation to cancer-causing toxins.

Riding into town around dinner time, I met up with Kris and Kristen at Pufferbelly's, a restaurant housed in a historic firehouse, complete with old fire station equipment and tools inside.

The food and company was outstanding.  After dinner, I rode out to their house.  Along the way, I had to stop to take in the sunset occuring over this industrial city, the illuminated sky being poked by three smokestacks, remnants of an old paper mill. 

With the sun mostly set, I struggled to see house numbers as I rode down the street looking for the address of the house I was staying at.  It suddenly became obvious that I was at the right place.  Out front, a sign at the end of the driveway welcomed me!

I had a great time hanging out with Kris and Kristen.  They are two special people who were incredibly generous and welcoming, and I felt fortunate to meet them.

And, while she wouldn't admit it publicly, Coraline, their dog, started to warm up to me once she was given a few treats (carrots) and I played fetch with her.