I captured these images back in 2006 at Lake Tahoe. Two friends and I ventured west to slide our shred-sticks down mountains. Twas my first time past doing so. This past week I scanned the negatives from that trip, converting them to digital files.
Many great photos exist amongst those digital negatives. Here are a few which could not wait to be published online.
Enjoy, until the shred returns.
I moved away from the mountains. For concrete. What, the fuck, Adam?
These thought crosses my mind on occasion. LIke the time I saw a dude crap his pants on the sidewalk. My bike tire was flat, forcing me to push the bike the four miles home. Along the way, I pass this dude laying on the concrete covered in his own shit. That never happened in Vermont.
After 2.5 months in the concrete jungle I had to escape or I’d freak. So I did. I managed to squeeze in a few pictures between 14.5 hours of driving, about 12 hours of sleeping, a few beers, 2 hours of hiking, great burritos with even better friends. All of whom, I may add have moved out of Stowe to the cities: Boston, Burlington, New York and ‘illadelphia. We converged on Taylor to forget the concrete and sit among the trees.
The Taylor Lodge sits along the Nebraska Notch, perched above beaver damns and the Nebraska Valley. This lodge has some history, burning down 3 times over the past 4 or 5 decades. I have an odd connection with this particular lodge. Frank Cain stayed here in 1963. I know because his name Frank Cain etched his name into the wall in 1963(see below). I lived in Frank Cain’s house this past winter. Frank Cain presided over Burlington, VT’s urban renewal projects from 1965-1971. He and I have slept in two of the same places: the Taylor Lodge and 1600 Weeks Hill Rd in Stowe, VT 05672. Enough about Frank Cain, here are the shots.
After 15 minutes of searching Google for this road’s history, I came up short. This only adds to the allure of Old Hanover Road and it’s attractive set of curves. One would imagine, in the not to distance past, this road was simply referred to has Hanover Road. Connecting the bustling snack-fed metropolis of Hanover with York County’s major city-center, York, PA. With PA 116’s construction, Old Hanover Road has slowly faded from Hanoverian’s minds.
However, a privleged few are rediscovering Old Hanover Road. Not simply for its more scenic route, or its avoidance of PA 116’s traffic but for the set of curves you see above. A driving enthusiasts dream: slight pitch into a double-S curve that exits into a wide up hill curve on both sides. Handled properly, these curves can be taken at 60mph+ speeds. Highly visible, drivers may let loose early without fear of oncoming traffic.
View Old Hanover Road curves in a larger map
If you dig speed and curves, I suggest you give Old Hanover Road a chance on your next trip from York to Hanover or from Hanover to York.
Scene kids be warned:
two miles from the curves, a vicious rail road crossing awaits to bite off your oil pans.
This gallery contains 20 photos.
I have to admit this posts title may be slightly misleading: there was not as much beer as you would think. On second thought, there was probably more beer than beautiful ladies. I just sound cooler if I say I … Continue reading
I have spoken to the collective qualities of music often. However, music’s power in uniting others still astounds me. I’ve attend concerts and music festivals in the past. I’ve enjoyed music for a long time. Music is a part of my life. All these came together last weekend at the Philadelphia Folk Fest. Never before had I witnessed such a gathering. The Philadelphia Folk Fest has been held on the same farm for the past 49 years. This festival is one of the longest running today, talk about dedication.
Talk about entering a different world. Immersed in that festival culture is like taking a step outside of reality, immersed in something wholly unique and independent unto itself. Granted I was there to publish pictures online to the outside world. Walking the grounds and speaking with the people there; we were all one in the same. Although this picture is one of my favorites I captured during the overall fest, there are many, many more stories that took place and evolved away from the stage. The hammocks in the grove, bathing in the river, the mini concerts throughout the campgrounds: these all are minor parts in a two-day festival that felt as if it lasted a week. I have experienced culture shock before but never such in a local and short-term setting.
I am still processing and sorting out what I experienced. But one thing is certain I will continue enjoying the music.
I hope you do the same.
I think Pennsylvanians lose sight of the beauty that our state offers. Take a look at a map sometime. Those large swathes of dark green formed by massive, massive glaciers a long time ago. Geologically, some pretty amazing shit happened to the soil under our feet. This leads me to thoughts of the Appalachian Mountain range in its younger days. Back when it was the largest on the planet. Appalachia is the antique mountain range. An indicator of the cycle of life. Mountains rise and mountains fall. These thoughts bolster my deep admiration for Pennsylvania. Along with things like the Susquehanna, Philadelphia, Pittsburgh, Lancaster, and of course Hanover. Not to mention the uncharted (for me) territory North of South Central PA. I guess what im trying to explain is why I feel the need to go out and walk the woods. Last weekend, Daniel and I did just that. Rushing to beat the darkness, we set up camp and awoke to walk the Appalachian Trail. Only covering 10 miles, an extreme hike it was not but that just leaves more for the future.
Enjoy the walk.