Deep Freeze: Summer - Video Post

In the midst of an arctic blast, the following video is to serve as a reminder of warmer times. Check it out.

Beyond Cedar Beach Parkway

Yesterday I noticed that I have tagged Cedar Beach Parkway in 27 posts. This is understandable, given my coverage of the deconstruction and construction in the park as well as the resulting controversies that have occurred because of said constructions. Cedar Beach Parkway is not however, the park in Allentown most in danger. It is not the park that needs to be tagged 27 times.

As I have made clear here on Remember there are two particular parks in Allentown that are currently in dire environmental straits. That is not to say that there are parks here with no environmental issues, all of them have some, these two parks are in the worst shape.

The first of these parks is Trout Creek Parkway. The entire length of the park (and Trout Creek) is dominated by a nasty invasive species called Japanese Knotweed. Invasive Species are particularly harmful to local ecosystems because they flourish rapidly and as a result of their dominance, they deprive native species of vital nutrients and available habitat. In Trout Creek Parkway, on the creek banks, there is no plant species but Knotweed. Farther from the creek, another invasive species called Tree of Heaven is also widespread throughout the park.

Both of these species are fast colonizers and given that Trout Creek intersects with The Little Lehigh Creek not far from the park, these non native plants threaten to continue their spread throughout urban Allentown and eventually to points beyond. Given the ecological importance of healthy Riparian areas and the ability of Japanese Knotweed to quickly dominate such locations, the removal and eradication of the plant in Trout Creek Parkway should be a priority of the city going forward.

The DCNR classifies both Tree of Heaven and Japanese Knotweed as “serious invasive threats”.

The good news about Trout Creek Parkway is that the Parks Department and the Wildlands Conservancy are currently working out a plan to deal with the invasive plague in Trout Creek Parkway this summer. It is my hope that they secure the needed funding to tackle this intense project, because if conditions remain as they are - the entire ecosystem in Allentown is in danger.

Long ago, the second park most in danger was a naturally occurring wetland. The presence of this wetland is documented in a City Council briefing on Allentown parks from the late 1970s. The swamp was drained and the creek dammed to create a lake for Allentown residents to swim in. Years later, this lake was filled in with sand and the majority of damming structures removed as the park was renovated by the W.P.A.

Today, Jordan Park is suffering badly from the remnants of the long removed dam. The Jordan Creek is nearly rendered stagnant by a remaining concrete bridge and the creek banks themselves are, for the most part, entirely made of concrete. The Jordan Creek is seriously threatened in this area.

All these concrete structures need to be removed and a proper Riparian zone needs to be established in Jordan Park. Here too, there is good news. Plans are afoot to begin to deal with the significant problems at Jordan Park. In moving forward with development at Jordan Park, the DCNR provides a good guideline for Riparian restoration:

“ Use native plants in riparian buffers around any surface water body, including wetlands. Riparian buffers help to filter pollutants before they reach water bodies, and the vegetation discourages nuisance geese from staying in the area. Roots from riparian vegetation also prevent erosion of soils into the water body and minimize flooding events. Shade from these buffers acts as a temperature control for the water body, which enhances habitat value for aquatic organisms. The food and shelter values of these buffers also enhances habitat. In addition, by selecting the right kind of plants, the scenic views of water bodies can be enhanced.”

With plans on the horizon to save Trout Creek Parkway and begin the process to save Jordan Park, it is my hope that such environmental guidelines are in fact the guidelines used to repair these devastated areas.

Don’t forget, even at Cedar Beach Parkway, a new riparian buffer will begin growing this spring and it will begin to help the healing process that ecosystem is in desperate need of.

I’ll be watching Trout Creek and Jordan Park as the weather turns warmer. I hope that the active citizenry which led to 27 posts about Cedar Beach Parkway since last April can turn attention to these parks that are sorely lacking from it. I look forward to a healthy environmental future for these parks and it looks like that future is on the way.

To Pave or Not to Pave

Before getting into the paving discussion, I figured it would be wise to consider the current path types in some of the major parks in Allentown.

First, in Trout Creek Parkway, the pathway is entirely paved.

At The Lehigh Parkway, there is paved and famously unpaved walking trails.

In Trexler Park, the entirety of the walking path is paved and like the Parkway, once served as a through route for automobiles.

The bottom line is that the majority of existing trails in Allentown’s parks are in fact paved. Where they are not, the path is most typically defined by gravel as in Jordan Park or formerly, in Cedar Beach Parkway.

As future development of trails is considered, should this trend continue? Should we pave our park paths?

I consider this a matter of environmental protection. Given that our parks are preserved open spaces, the health of the ecosystems therein should be the primary factor given consideration when contemplating future park development. Therefore, it would seem that the decision to pave or not to pave comes down to whichever method is most environmentally sound.

So, which option is it?

The bottom line is that both paving new trails and creating new unpaved trails in natural spaces is environmentally hazardous. It is a tricky proposition. Establishing easy access to what is left of nature in an increasingly urban world is a necessity. .

Therefore, I advocate the creation of trails and paths to allow access to our wild spaces. I consider it a priority of local governments to ensure that such an access exists. That access must be environmentally sound. That access must preserve the health of the ecosystem. With that in mind, I believe that the best answer to the question raised by the title of this blog post is answered by the Pennsylvania Department of Conservation and Natural Resources.

In a publication entitled “Creating Sustainable Community Parks”, the DCNR lays out the answer to the question simply:

“ Minimize impermeable surfaces like roads, parking lots, and paved trails. Consider replacing asphalt with concrete and permeable pavement, mulch paths, gravel lots and natural vegetation. Permeable surfaces help to recharge groundwater, reduce erosion, lessen flooding events, and filter out pollutants. When impermeable surfaces must be used, arrange them in an area where they will not fragment habitat, make them as small as possible, and keep them away from water bodies.”

So, the answer is, pave sparingly. If unpaved surface paths exist they must be maintained in a fashion that will keep the ground from being compressed by increased foot travel; which will lead to similar environmental hazards as paved trails.

It is my belief that the advice of the DCNR should be followed in any new construction by our Parks Department in our open spaces. The paving around the reflecting ponds in Cedar Beach Parkway, as it currently exists, is environmentally degrading. I do not support further paving at Cedar Beach Parkway given the paths close proximity to Cedar Creek as well as its location in a floodplain.

The current project at Cedar Beach Parkway is not being created in a responsible fashion. I believe that accessibility to our parks should be increased, but not at the expense of the parks themselves. There are alternatives to black top paving and those alternatives as described above should be implemented in any further development.

By the way, as a reminder to all Remember readers and park lovers, the DCNR also maintains the necessity of Riparian Buffers near any water body. Hopefully, we will see more of those this summer. I’ll be waiting, camera in hand.

January Thaw 2: Cedar Beach Parkway (New Paving)

I realized I had jumped the gun on the January thaw when I stepped outside yesterday morning. I found myself standing in a summerlike downpour. The temperature was nearly sixty degrees. I headed down to Cedar Beach.

Heavy rains had fallen over the previous night and coupled with recent precipitation and snowmelt, Cedar Creek was flooded.



Large areas of the lowlands in Cedar Beach Parkway were underwater.

I discovered the walking path dug up. I believe it to be in the preparation stage of further black top paving.


All around the asphalt paths near the reflecting ponds was water. Large channels aside the newly paved paths were full and some were serving as run off canals towards the creek.



As the debate over the trails plan has heated up of late, one serious area of contention has been in regards to the types of trails that would be installed under this initiative. Many people, including yours truly, have stated that they would prefer to see less paved paths in future park developments.

Check back here tomorrow for a full exploration on the topic.

After leaving the mud and water of Cedar Beach, I drove to the Lehigh County Soccer Fields to catch what was left of the sunset. Here, beyond the community gardens, day was expiring.

Perhaps to find itself in Tomato Heaven:

Warm air over the winter bramble and idle cornfields felt strange, felt like a tease. I am looking forward to the life of spring.

(To Pave or Not to Pave, that is for tomorrow…)

January Thaw: Lehigh Parkway

One hundred years of climate data supports the existence of a January thaw. It usually occurs between January 20th and January 27th. Some years it comes early, some years it comes late but as sure as spring, it comes.

Within hours, under shifting winds, the frozen strength of winter falters. The hard ground turns soft, wet, eventually turns to mud. The paths at the Parkway were mud by the time I had arrived. Deep horse shoe prints, footsteps, bike treads, standing water, thaw paths.


I visited the Little Lehigh Fly Shop for the first time. Row after row, lures and lures, fishing line, fishing poles, the owner of the shop is named Rod. Rod assures: “Best trout fishing around”. I believed him.

The Little Lehigh creek gray, green, full of loosed sediment, thaw swollen, softly angered in the long hum of short rapids.


Nick took pictures with his expensive wide angled camera. He needed the light that kept escaping behind smoky cumulus clouds.

CJ walked, hooded, chilly and chillier as the sun sank into the evening. It may have been the thaw but it is still winter. CJ walked ahead, light behind him, avoiding the mud.

I wondered if I was in a thaw. So often, I find myself absorbed into my surroundings. Was I melting? Would I be able to stand the change? I looked at the reflections of cattails in the springs here in the lowlands of the Parkway.

“Everything is monochromatic.” “It’s pissing me off.” Nick squats aside the creek in bitter mumbles.

CJ disappeared onto another path. There wasn’t much light left to the day, wasn’t much time left in the thaw.

Beavers had been here.

I wonder what Rod thinks of the beavers.

I’d like to see one.

Lock Ridge Park (Part 2)

A young forest, reclaiming land once stripped bare by industry sprawls beyond the ancient furnace. The Swabia Creek, a tributary of the Little Lehigh, twists around inside the park. On this afternoon, the slower sections of the Swabia were frozen. Even in the faster runs, crystalline icebergs were present.


Abby and Eric told me that there were further structures hidden in the woods ahead.Before reaching any structures, we came across a bridge. There were stairs aside of it that led to a very small dam in the Swabia. Abby told me to be careful as I walked down the steps and eventually made my way onto the frozen water. Abby yelled at me. I knew the ice I stood on was safe, it was dammed by a log and shielded from sunlight.

I then decided to continue risking breaking the ice. I crossed the log to the other side of the creek. The water here, still frozen, was atop running water. This was not safe ice. I wanted to snap a quick picture of the underside of the bridge, so I figured a second on the ice would not compromise its structural integrity.

My weight placed down and instantly through the ice with a loud crack, my foot rested on the bottom of Swabia Creek. Abby said she told me so.


Tail between my legs, up the hill, and further down the trail, into the forest.


At various points throughout the forest, ruins were visible. A large outcropping of rock jutted out, high over the low valley the Swabia ran through.

The squish of icy water in my boot bothering me more with every step, I hurried Abby and Eric towards the last destination they wanted me to see before leaving. We made it across the snowy ground to more exposed rocks and concrete.

Sitting in my car with my wet sock and boot removed, the heater blasting on my red left toes, I thought of Lock Ridge Park and how I would write about it. More striking to me, as I sat there slowly melting, was the opportunity that Lock Ridge offers its visitors to view history. Yes, the obvious history of iron and coal but perhaps, more importantly, the new history of ecological succession.


This area has been reclaimed by nature. I know not how it appeared years ago in clouds of steam and soot. Today I see a developing ecosystem, beginning to thrive while still being affected by the long dead Iron Furnace. I will return in the warmer months to see what plants have developed, to see what this wet behind the ears ecosystem is offering.

The lasting image I take from Lock Ridge Park is the sight of red bricks, under the clear water and ice, scattered as if haphazardly thrown once their purpose had been exhausted.


Here, is where I fell through the ice:

Lock Ridge Park (Part One)

One Hundred and Forty two years ago I would have encountered a much different scene in Alburtis. I would have been witness to a scene at the height of iron manufacturing in the Lehigh Valley. I would have smelled the hot blast of the furnace forging iron and heard the whistles and brakes of the Catasaqua-Fogelsville Railroad as it stopped by Lock Ridge.

From the Delaware and Lehigh Heritage Corridor:
"Construction of the Lock Ridge Iron Furnace began in 1868 during the peak of the anthracite iron industry. Utilizing anthracite coal or coke rather than charcoal as fuel, a hot rather than cold blast to speed oxidation, and a steam engine rather than bellows to force the hot blast into the furnace, anthracite iron making flourished in the valleys of the Susquehanna, Schulkill, and Lehigh Rivers from about 1840 to 1890. Lehigh Valley was the most important center of the industry. The Lock Ridge Furnace continued to operate until after WW I, long after most other furnaces had succumbed to competition from major firms using modern equipment. The site was restored as a park and museum in the early 1970s. The furnace now consists of the furnace room, engine room and cast room of Furnace No. 7; the former weighmaster's house; the oil house; partial ruins of Furnace No. 8 and its associated buildings; the carpenter's shop; the blacksmith shop; and the piers for the trestles which received railroad cars carrying materials. The Lock Ridge complex is one of only two remaining furnaces of the many that were in operation in central and eastern Pennsylvania in 1876."

Long after the fall of anthracite, Lock Ridge is a much different place. The furnace itself was made a park in 1976 and what was left of the last anthracite using iron furnace was preserved.

This was my first visit to Lock Ridge and I had no idea what was waiting for me there. I truthfully knew nothing of the Lock Ridge Furnace or of the Iron Company. My local history knowledge mostly pertains to the city of Allentown. I was glad to be joined on my journey to two natives of the area, my friends Abby Weiner and Eric Yenser.

Abby and Eric were able to show me around and make sure I didn’t miss any of the major sights worth seeing and at Lock Ridge Park, there certainly are a lot of them.


With the silence of snow and winter, the old structures seemed ominous with their deep gray pulling the coldness of the sky into stone. Here, I stood in the ruins of the sort of business that put the Lehigh Valley on the map. Without the iron and the anthracite, the Lehigh Valley would be a much different place today.

The main structure of the Furnace has been restored as a museum. At the time of my visit, the museum was closed and I was unable to take a tour. I intend to return for one in the near future.

Near the plant, over the old Catasaqua-Fogellsville rail line,

are former schoolhouses.

In truth, even with a blanket of snow on the ground, there is something to see everywhere one looks in Lock Ridge Park. There is a large map to identify the remaining structures.

With nothing but the frigid silence I could not help but imagine the sound of steam, the sound of metal clanging against metal. I tried to hear the yells of sweaty, soot covered workers.

Beyond the Furnace, Lock Ridge Park is full of the natural world. The Swabia Creek runs through here and there are trails that head into the surrounding young forest.
Tomorrow, I will share the stories of that part of Lock Ridge Park as well as the story of my dumb ass falling through the ice into the Swabia.