Volume 4, Issue 2 (October 2010)
|I believe in the Out-of-Doors, the woods, streams and hills, the wild life that lives therein; I believe that man's care for them in a state of nature consistent with conservation is his best investment in the future." --Adirondack Mountain Club Creed (1922)|
On October 26th, at 7:00 p.m., the Environmental Focus Group will sponsor a showing of the documentary Gasland. The film depicts filmmaker Josh Fox's attempts to learn the truth about hydro-fracking. First aired on HBO, Gasland is now in theatres and has drawn international attention: in August, Fox went to Iceland to receive the Lennon-Ono Grant for Peace. The film has been described as "Part verite travelogue, part expose, part mystery, part bluegrass banjo meltdown, part showdown." A moderated discussion will follow the film. The event, which is free and open to the public, will be held in Ulmer Planetarium.
Work on this proposal began in the summer of 2008, and it has required the cooperation of a lot of people from many different disciplines. Thanks to my colleagues on the Environmental Focus Group--Md. Khalequzzaman, Lenny Long, Jeff Walsh, Danielle Tolton, John Crossen, Clayton Snyder, Sandra Barney, David White, Tom Ormond, Ralph Harnishfeger, and Barrie Overton--who worked on this proposal and to Provost Erikson for ushering it through the difficult approval process.
ARAMARK @ LHU has implemented many new environmentally conscious practices. We have converted all of our plastic plates and to-go containers in the retail food courts to a sugar-cane-based product. All plasticware (forks, knives, spoons) have been converted to a corn-based product as have the straws
We are carrying the 100% recycled content cups that are supplied by our national-brand partners. (Starbucks, Freshens, Pepsi etc.) We have added recycling bins to Bentley and are now recycling soda bottles, newspaper, office paper, cans, and cardboard. Our fryer grease is being converted into bio-diesel and our food waste that comes from the pulper is being used in compost (off campus)
We have gone to a chemical-free cleaner for all tables and chairs with the addition of our “AciveIon” cleaners www.activeion.com. This technology allows us to clean with ordinary tap water and still achieve a 98% bacteria-free surface.
We have also changed our floor cleaning procedures from the traditional mop and bucket, which used over 100 gallons of water a day, to a microfiber cleaning pad and water-conserving machines. These measures have cut back water usage to under 30 gallons a day to clean all of the floors in Bentley Hall.
In the future we are hoping to do more on campus to support our dining program such as growing our own herbs, recycling our coffee grounds to produce mushrooms, and maybe someday being able to compost on campus.
Our aspirations are high in regards to a greener dining program, and with the resources that are available to us both on the ARAMARK side and the support from the university, we can continue to thrive.
The cloudy water,
leaves a white smear,
and all I hear
as a passing stranger,
catching fragments of sentences—
“It’s trashing the streams…
Polluting the river…
Coating the seafloor.”
An early Fall is an early warning—
the next season taunting,
flaunting the destruction in its breath.
Her bitterness seems stronger,
as if she’s mad
promising a longer winter.
Shall we accept the discipline
like the once all knowing
reckless renegade adolescent,
now a maturing revolutionary—
knowing their parents were right all along?
Or shall we live as greedy kings,
preaching rules of God to the masses,
but alone in our dwellings
by means against natural doctrine—
drilling a screw into our mother’s heart?
For the better,
we can change.
But, once again
we must offer sacrifices
to portals of truth;
saving steers, lambs
heads and hearts,
and slowly witness evolution.
We must once again offer sacrifices
to an Exodus God—
to an angry God.
But there is no burning bush—
no signs set in stone.
For as we grow, ever more humane,
closer to truth,
a God, our mother
grows ever more godly—
responding ever deeper
We must adhere to this biosphere,
paint green what we’ve sooted black
and return to natural harmony.
10:08 a.m., sunshine glints off the leaves of the Pin Oak tree. Drops of dew, still clinging to webs spun nights before, rebound against the wind. Pine Creek crawls, hugging the rims of earth that border it. The “dee, dee, dee” of the chickadees dances with the cardinals' “cheer, cheer, cheer.” A chipmunk—no, a dead leaf—no, a chipmunk, caramel fur, dark chocolate stripes, scurries into my path, narrowly escaping death by tire. The crunch of the shale clinks against aluminum frame. I steer, missing dips, splits, traps intentionally set by the colluding characters, rain, wind, dirt. Nature is never more chaotic than before traffic picks up, than before footfalls silence the trail’s deafening noise. And I, as spy, attempt to blend, to meld with the nectar of the Japanese Honeysuckle, to loosen myself so that the wind can carry me to undiscovered lands, can wrap my scent around the nostrils of those on the other side of the globe, those loosening too, wishing that I may also swallow a whiff of their existence.
I pedal, not with purpose, not with destination, but with hopes of colliding with chaos foreign to my own. The hemlocks, maples, and oaks applaud my efforts as they swell into one another, intertwining, forming one hand, palm, fingers, life’s creases, clapping against the wind. I and the gusts silently communicate, my head turned up, ears open, willing the current into the hole within me. I am positioned to receive. “Where have you been?” I inquire.
Some questions receive answers even though they have not been asked.
And then my personal chaos, the one ravaging my mind, commandeers thoughts, allowing the wind’s answers to become its own.
“What faces have you caressed?”
“What arms have you wrapped yourself around?”
“What tears have you inspired as you press into pupils, into psyches that work to block you with sunshades and umbrellas.”
The absence of sensation is sometimes better than cracking oneself open, acorn on asphalt, unable to plant, a seedling that never sprouts. My chaos collides with the trail’s. Our winds dance with one another, twisting, turning, bowing, creating pink, blue, and orange hues, that slam together like the knuckles of clinched fists wrestling to hold one another.
Then, there is the music, louder than my chain squealing in agony as it is assaulted by rocks spit from rotating tires, louder than the buzz of the bee racing me to the cornfield, louder than the digital numbers ticking away on the odometer, dictating miles ridden, a reminder of the amount of road that still must be traveled
I hear Marvin’s song, not blasting through earbuds, but riffing in the wind, “Sing, little sparrow, sing,” joined by Billie’s chilling trill. Southern trees aren’t the only one’s bearing strange fruit. Some of the strangest fruits don’t even hang from trees.
Their voices crash against leaves, reverberating down branches, trunks, sap swishing inside, connecting with the earth on which I ride, sending my insides aquiver. It is only on the trail, that this quaking is tolerable.
Those who argue that nature is quiet amidst noise have not yet heard beneath their own screams for silence. It is, unapologetically, its own chaos. And so, I ride all trail, nature, having politely parted itself like the red sea, opening its mouth, promising not to swallow. It allows me to comingle with the syrupy scent of the Honeysuckle even as I ponder the growth as a climbing, strangling weed or as the fruit of earth’s labor. Even as I wonder this of myself.
Despite the answers, mine and the wind’s, I ride because to ride is to be, to move out of skin, past thriving desires and deceased ones buried far under. It is to soar, to morph into an oriole or a cardinal, beings that need the wind, but those that also know that the wind needs them. Without wings bobbing from side to side, without feathers tussled by an invisible breeze, how would we know the wind exists? Without it kissing cheeks, producing tears which have no origin, how would we know that we exist? Without the trail, without its chaos, without our own, would we continue to ride?
As you can tell from the increased truck traffic on the roads around Lock Haven, it's been a busy summer for the natural gas industry in Pennsylvania. In Clinton County there have been 23 Marcellus wells drilled thus far in 2010, compared to 12 in 2009 (LH Express, "More Marcellus" [9/16/10]).
As the number of wells being fracked has increased, the number of surface spills and other environmental incidents have multiplied. Recently, the Pennsylvania Land Trust has reported that PA natural gas drillers amassed 1614 violations between January 2008 and August 2010. They note that 1056 of these violations were classified as "most likely to harm the environment." That averages out to 80 violations/month, and 52 serious violations/month (ConserveLand.org, "Marcellus Shale Drillers" [9/1/10]). Some of the highlights from that list would include the following:
Politically, the Marcellus Shale remains at the center of debates over PA's budget. We currently remain the only major gas-producing state that does not have a severance tax on natural gas production. The July budget deal included a bipartisan agreement to enact a severance tax by October 1st. As that date approached, various groups jockeyed to determine the rate of the tax as well as how the revenue will be distributed (general fund, local governments, or environmental protection). The natural gas industry remains opposed to any tax, but they have argued that if a tax is approved, it should be coupled with "forced pooling," whereby landowners who refuse to lease their land will be forced to allow gas companies to drill under their land (Times-Tribune, " Marcellus Drillers " [6/29/10]). On September 29th, the House passed its severance tax bill, which calls for a tax of 39 cents per 1000 cubic feet of gas drilled. The bill faces an uncertain future since PA Senate Republicans object that the tax is too much (Philadelphia Inquirer, "PA House Approves" [9/30/10]).
Currently, 700,000 acres of your state forest have been leased for natural gas extraction. In May, the House passed House Bill 2235 (introduced by Rep. Greg Vitali), which imposes a 3-year moratorium on additional leasing (PennLive, "Moratorium"). The Republican-controlled Senate has not acted on the bill. Meanwhile, the PA Department of Conservation and Natural Resources (DCNR) has claimed that there are no additional lands that could be leased "without significantly altering the ecological integrity and wild character of our state forest system" (DCNR, "Impacts of Leasing" ).
Pennsylvania's next governor will owe a debt of gratitude to the gas industry. According to MarcellusMoney.org, both candidates have received substantial donations. Republican Tom Corbett has received $372,720 from the industry, more than any candidate for any PA office. But the gas drillers have hedged their bet by giving his rival, Democrat Dan Onorato $74,300. Onorato supports the severance tax, but Corbett claims that it will make PA less competitive (Morning Call, "Onorato" [9/9/10]).
Locally, the most interesting issue this summer has been the legal battle over Anadarko Petroleum's request to build a water-withdrawal plant off Route 120 in Chapman Township, at the base of Hyner View State Park. In May, after three nights of hearings, the Chapman Township Zoning Board (CTZB) rejected Andarko's request. The CTZB was influenced by testimony that the plant would injure the viewscape of Hyner View, and that the increased truck traffic would pose a safety threat. Anadarko appealed the decision, and Judge Michael Williamson decided not to recuse himself even though he has a gas lease with Chesapeake Energy (LH Express, ,"Judge Awaits" [7/21/10]). In August, Judge Williamson overturned the CTZB decision, and ordered the board to conduct a public hearing to allow the plant. An hour before the hearing, the entire board resigned in protest (LH Express, "Act of Defiance" [8/27/10]). Judge Williamson promptly ruled that Anadarko may proceed with construction of the water withdrawal plant (LH Express, "Williamson: Pump the Water" [9/01/10]).
I just finished a book that took me outdoors in another state, Mountain Passages: Natural and Cultural History of Western North Carolina and the Great Smoky Mountains, by George Ellison. The book is a collection of some of his short essays and is beautifully illustrated by Elizabeth Ellison, his wife. They are 30 year residents of that area and live in Bryson City, NC. The book has three sections; Natural History, Cherokees, and Mountaineers. It’s a great little book. Easy and delightful to read and you can pick and choose what you want to explore. A good bathroom book.
I skimmed through the first two essays then the third really caught my attention. The Lay of the Land, a fun little discussion on the nomenclature of western North Carolina mountain terrain. I often hike the woods of Central Pennsylvania and casually use expressions like creek, run, ravine, hollow (or holler), etc., and I’m never quite sure if I’m using these words “correctly”. Ellison discusses these and quite a few others I hadn’t heard before. According to Ellison a bald is a “treeless mountain top characteristic of the Smokies”. I thought of the common bald areas of the mountains in Central Pennsylvania – not the same thing. A heath bald is a “treeless tangle of rhododendron and other shrubs in the heath family”. As a fisherman I’m all too familiar with this concept, but I’ve never heard an expression for it that is repeatable in mixed company. Another one is bench. This is “a level area, sometimes cultivated, on the side of a mountain”. Never heard that one either, but I like it. It’s descriptive and makes sense.
Ellison refers to scars. This is a bare area where logs had been rolled down the hillside. I wondered if that technique had been used in Pennsylvania. I’ve heard of mule trains, light rail and splash dams being used here to get the lumber off the hills. I couldn’t see why rolling the logs, or ballhooting, wouldn’t have also been done. Clearly the logging had had an impact on the landscape and nomenclature of North Carolina. That certainly rings a bell with our area.
Another one I liked was cove. This is “a widening out of a mountain valley, or a meadow land between mountains”. We have plenty of both in PA, but I’ve never heard the term used these ways.
So many new terms. I’d be curious if anyone out there is familiar with these terms being applied to Penn’s Woods. I conclude I have much to learn and need to spend even more time in the woods.
That’s just two pages of this 160 page book. This section also has a very interesting history of the eastern bison and wild boar. Other essays discuss botany, ornithology, and some of the naturalists of the area, all put in an interesting anecdotal historical perspective.
The Cherokee section describes the habits and lifestyles of these indigenous people. Ellison often finds links between the past and present. For example when he describes how the Cherokees built rock funnels to trap fish hundreds of years ago he also tells how he met with Robert T. Bryson and Bryson recalled using some of the old Indian rock traps up until 1920. Ellison describes some Cherokee myths and folklore. He has several essays that tell of several land transactions, deceptions and disputes, battles, and forced removal of these people to reservations.
The last section is Mountaineers. He starts with an essay on jailhouses and another on boarding houses, and another on springhouses. I was especially interested, oddly enough, in springhouses as my good friend Bob Myers had recently taken me along on a hike with local artist Jeremiah Johnson to explore a springhouse on Bald Eagle Mountain used by Woolrich resident William Chatham. Ellison goes on to give good, sometimes secondhand, accounts of many interesting characters that lived deep in the woods of this area. This includes weather sharps (people who read nature to understand and predict the weather), hermits and moonshiners. Quill Rose, a Civil War veteran, was described, according to Ellison, as a “picturesque blockader”. He hid out in Texas after killing a man in what was eventually considered self-defense. He returned to North Carolina and generally avoided people and the law while making moonshine in the hills. One of my favorite quotes in Ellison’s book is attributed to Rose. Ellison writes:
Quill produced what he called tanglefoot on a large scale and got rid of the stuff fast. On being asked by a “furriner” if moonshine improved with age, Rose became incensed and emphatically denied it, citing his own research: “I kept some for a whole week one time and I could not tell that it was one bit better than when it was fresh and new.”
After finishing this little book I thought it akin, in some ways, to Jeffery Frasier’s books on Pennsylvania Folklore. If you like Frasier’s books I think you’ll like Ellison’s.
I live in Huntersville, Pennsylvania; we have two horses, two dogs and two cats. My home was built in 1867. Evergreen trees line our farmstead; and in the summer, in every direction you look, you’re assaulted by green. Green grass, leaves, poison ivy. My father’s brothers live on both sides of us, and so the six of us cousins could roam wherever we wanted. There are trails that lead to forts, trails that lead to firewood stashes, trails that lead to a beautiful meandering spring on the lower side of our property. We have paths all over our 95 acre stomping ground.
The road to my home is still dirt; the cancer of asphalt hasn’t crept into my village just yet. My driveway is stone and then grass that leads to a barn. Our modest little barn houses our animals, our hay, and a 1943 Farmhall “H” tractor that my dad still uses to plow the field behind our house.
On our 95 acres there are three different sections that my brother and cousins and I named as children. Directly behind our home is the Enchanted Forest, the name probably stemming from some random Disney movie. To the left of my house is the Indian Forest. It’s the forest that is a little less frequented. We called it the Indian Forest because the undergrowth makes little lean-tos and Tipis on the trees we could hide under. And lastly, the forest that we had to tromp through mud up to our calves and through corn fields to get to… Mom’s yell couldn’t be heard from here so we were forbidden to go there. This place we called the Mysterious Beyond, this name we blatantly stole from the movie The Land Before Time. Before we would go outside during the summer you needed to have your equipment, a pocket knife and a walkie talkie. All of the Downey houses tuned to frequency six. I’m twenty-one now and I still use the same old walkie talkies and a small pocket knife I got at Niagara Falls when I was eight. We used to trek all over, build tree houses straddling trees, the only access a rope later woven by yours truly and my little brother Ryan. We would dig holes for fun, pretending to search for buried treasure. Our dad cursed us for this after running over them with the plow and getting stuck.
In my house, there are always wild flowers, dried trophies for my mother, tiger lilies, tulips, Black - Eyed Susans and violets. I can’t forget the fruit on the farm, either. Wild strawberries grow best and sweetest out of manure, and they line my mother’s horse pasture. There is one haggard apple tree that I wouldn’t recommend eating off of and a mysterious grapevine that re-grows every summer and no one remembers every planting it. All summer no matter the occasion or the temperature, there’s a fire in our fire pit. Our dad built it out of rock after Ryan and I had set the grass on fire for the hundredth time. We sit outside playing guitar, listening to deafening music until 3 in the morning, get drunk and lie in the grass just looking at the stars. I love my home, and I love the woods around it. But all of that could go away. Like all the times we destroyed the yard with fire, you can see the devastation to the land even in just a small spot. Fire isn’t the only thing that can destroy woods.
Just down the hill, little pink flags line the road. They mark a wire that's buried more than three feet down to test the ground, to see if a gas more precious than gold is trapped beneath the earth’s crust. Three years ago, my parents signed a contract leasing the rights to our land. The company that isn’t based in Pennsylvania has the right to drill on our land for gas. The company handed my father and many of our family member’s fat checks. We were given nearly $20,000 for 15 acres of land, 15 acres to be examined and possibly tapped for gas. At the time I thought it was great. My parents were able to completely pay off our home some ten years early. But a couple more miles down the road there's an ugly silver thorn in the earth that late at night sprays fire upwards to the sky, an awful well drilled into what was once a lush strawberry farm, now a barren dead field.
When the gas company came around buying up gas rights, they sold us on the fact that we would be contributing to a "cleaner greener" United States that natural gas was less of a pollutant than coal or oil. WE WERE GOING TO BE PART OF THE SOLUTION! But then I look at the silver knife sticking permanently in the heart of the once beautiful fields. Tire tracks and construction waste litter the ground, railroad cars’ hard metal boxes, strewn across the old fields. How is destroying the fields that once yielded fruit for area businesses and homes, solving the pollution problem? In this very city Lock Haven, Pennsylvania, a well designed to pump water to drilling sites, is proposed in the middle of the beautiful hyner view. In Williamsport, a proposed 400,000 gallons per day of gas well wastewater will be dumped into the West Branch of the Susquehanna River.
But what happens if those little pink flags lead, like rotten bread crumbs, to my Enchanted forest? To my Indian forest? To my home? We might be able to shave .001 percent of air pollution, but at what cost? What cost to my beautiful forest. My forest won’t be so enchanting with a gas well sticking out of the middle of it.
Panther Run is a kick-ass hiking trail up in the Little Pine State Park area that takes you along a winding mountaintop path through awesome sections of mossy rock outcrops and it even features a nice vista. It is a three and a half mile trail that is described by the DCNR website as being "difficult", but really except for a couple parts at the start of the trail it is quite easy and you should breeze through in a couple of hours. The trail is very well worn and marked fairly well so once you are on it you should have no trouble at all in figuring out which way you need to go, and in fact there are actually several signs along the way with maps of the whole area! Don't get the wrong idea though, this trail is still quite wild and offers great opportunities to see a wide variety of fauna such as White Tail Deer, Bald Eagles, the occasional American Black Bear and every hiker's favorite, the Timber Rattlesnake.
There are a couple of ways to get to Little Pine from Lock Haven, but the easiest for the flatlanders in the audience is to hop onto 220 North and stay on this for 9 miles until you get to the PA-44 exit. From the exit, hang a left onto Route 44 and stay on it until you come to the town of Waterville (10.8 miles). After crossing the small Lt. Micheal Wolf Bridge, take a right onto Little Pine Creek Road and follow it for 4 miles until you come to the park itself. Keep driving past the dam and very soon you will see a large parking lot on your right. Park on the far left side down by the big dumpster and Eagle Watch Area sign and prepare yourself. There are two versions of this trail depending on where you start: the easy way, which is to just walk across the road from the Eagle Watch sign and head up that way that makes for a gradually sloping uphill trail, or the hard way, which as a Red Blooded American who laughs in the face of danger I am sure you are eager to take. To go this way, walk about a mile and a half down Little Pine Road and keep your eyes peeled for a big sign on the left hand side of the road. This sign shows you where you need to go and usually has some nice little folding maps that feature all of the trails in the park, so grab a couple and follow the muddy trail back to Panther Run.
The trail starts with a short but steep scramble up a hill which can be somewhat perilous to get up if it is especially muddy, and if that is indeed the case I advise ignoring the little dirt path and just going straight up using roots to haul yourself up the incline. Once you have made it up, follow the yellow blazed trail as it runs parallel to the run and enjoy the secluded little valley you are in, making sure to look for the many odd mushrooms that grow in abundance in the area. After about half a mile the trail begins to head up the mountain on the left away from the run and gets harder very quickly. This is one part of the trail that is not well marked so it can be somewhat confusing trying to tell whether you actually on the trail or not, but take your time and keep an eye out for the few blazes in the area and you should be fine. Soon enough you will find yourself standing at the bottom of an extremely steep and rocky section of the trail that will take you straight up the mountain. This part is a real bitch, but it is also the last hard part of the trail so put on your war face and make your way up. When you regain consciousness after passing out at the top, pat yourself on the back because the rest of the trail is a cakewalk compared to this.
Continue on back into the woods, making sure to forage liberally for Teaberries and Blueberries depending on the season. You will come to a fork in the road, at which point you should hang a left. From here on out the trail is very straightforward and is damn near impossible to get lost on as it follows the ridge giving you some lovely views of the forests below. There is a really nice vista not too far along the trail that has a Geocache hidden somewhere nearby, so make sure you bring something cool to put in it if you wish to hunt for it. I want to offer a word of caution considering the rocky bare area that is right below the vista, as during the warmer months it can be full of very large rattlesnakes who gather there to bask in the sun. I did not see any the last time I hiked due to the cooling weather, but my companion found a large snake skin indicating their past presence. After navigating the snake pit the rest of the trail is a very enjoyable downhill walk through interesting rock formations and mossy groves. In what seems like no time at all you will find yourself descending the final part of the path and discover that you are in fact right back at the parking area where you started. If you still feel energetic check out some of the other areas of the park, as it is quite nice. On your way out of the park make sure you stop at Happy Acres for some beer and ice cream, which is the best way to end a hiking adventure that I can think of.
Many believe that the only place to scuba dive near us is in the Caribbean, when in reality we have great dive locations locally. I would like to discuss our local dive locations.
The Susquehanna River offers a nice dive spot in Lock Haven at the Jay Street Bridge. During the summer months, Sunken Treasure Scuba Center provide an excellent underwater diving experience. There is an old boat that sits at the bottom of the river partially covered by river sediment. I have been told that this boat was used during the Last Raft trip in 1938. Old wooden beams from a barge can be found just off shore of the Dunnstown side of the river. Sea grass grows on the Lock Haven side of the river and creates a nice habitat for several species of fish. Snails have been seen in the river this past year as well as clams, rock bass, catfish, and small mouth bass.
Loyalsock Creek (just outside of Williamsport, PA) provides a great habitat for underwater creatures to live. Loyalsock Creek is made up of a river stone, large boulders and rock cliffs. In certain sections of the creek there are deep pockets (anywhere from 10-30 feet deep) that are created by the way the creek flows during floods. Most of the time you will find these deep pockets of water right after a bend in the creek.
One great place to visit on Loyalsock Creek is Slabtown Bridge on Rt. 87. The total depth is roughly 25-30 feet, and there is a cliff face from top to bottom on one side of the creek and river stone with a gradual slope to the bottom where it meets up with the cliff face. This is the most popular spot for divers, but another place that I have recently been to is Best Beach Campgrounds on Rt. 87. The LHU Scuba Club had an overnight camping/diving trip here recently, which gave many LHU students a new great experience of fresh water diving. This dive spot is 20 feet deep which is lower then normal due to the low water levels in the creek. This has become my favorite dive hole on the Loyalsock Creek. There are large boulders that create small caves for fish to live in. I have seen carp, musky, small mouth bass, rock bass, bluegill, large crawfish, hell benders (an endangered species of the salamander family that can grow up to 2-3 feet long), and even a beaver.
If you are not a diver but enjoy snorkeling, Last Chance swimming hole on Rt. 87, is only 12 feet deep and provides excellent visibility. I’ve seen four hellbenders at this location and even hellbender eggs. I have also seen the same fish that are at Best Beach Campgrounds. This spot provides nice rock face from a huge boulder on one side of the creek and river stone on the opposite. It also provides a great place to take underwater photographs, and if you go when the sun is shining through the water, it gives a great quality to the images.
Another location is on Pine Creek in Avis, and is referred to as Black Bridge. It is a little difficult to get to, but has some interesting things to see. I saw large catfish approx 3 feet in length. I have also found a wooden structure just below the train bridge that makes a great habitat for fish. I have been told that this wooden structure could possibly be part of an old trolley system that ran through that area at one time.
I hope that my experiences and suggestions help local scuba divers find new and exciting dive locations, and hope it will promote local diving near Lock Haven and Williamsport. Pennsylvania offers nice fresh-water diving experiences if you know where to look.
Environmental Focus Group
Bob Myers (Chair), Md. Khalequzzaman, Lenny Long, Jeff Walsh, Danielle Tolton, John Crossen, Clayton Snyder, Sandra Barney, David White, Tom Ormond, Ralph Harnishfeger, and Barrie Overton. The committee is charged with promoting and supporting activities, experiences, and structures that encourage students, faculty, and staff to develop a stronger sense of place for Lock Haven University and central Pennsylvania. Such a sense of place involves a stewardship of natural resources (environmentalism), meaningful outdoor experiences, and appreciation for the heritage of the region.