The Rivers

The Monongahela River, or the Mon as locals call it, is a pretty waterway, not real wide, not real long, just a little over a hundred miles. A short section is in West Virginia, the long segment being in Pennsylvania. The state line is somewhere between Morgantown WV and Greensboro PA. Not sure when I crossed on the first day, no welcome plaza like on the interstate.

The Mon flows north, and that causes some confusion. Paddling down the river means you are headed north, except that's up if you look on a map. So often when I told people I was going down to Pittsburgh, they would tell me that I was headed in the wrong direction. I should be going up to get to Pittsburgh. Didn't really matter much to me, I just went with the flow.

As I said, the Mon is a pretty river, nestled in a picturesque valley, it winds through some scenic towns and landscapes. But there are some problems for the recreational kayaker or canoeist . Many of the towns have absolutely no access from the river into the town. That means there are no spots to replenish supplies or get a restaurant meal. I was lucky to have contacts in several of the towns who made services available for me, but your average traveller won't get the.places to camp and catch a night's sleep.

As pretty as the river is you must remember that it is primarily a commercial waterway. There are coal barges on the river, giant vessels that you really must steer clear of. I got tooted at a couple times for getting in their way. Also along the banks on both sides for the entire length of the river's course, there are railroad tracks carrying coal up and down the valley, and highways with truck traffic. Rail traffic involves regular and very loud diesel engines, and very loud whistle blasts. Train whistles carry some nostalgia and hint of past times, but when they are only yards away and repeat every ten seconds, the good feeling vanishes.

I did though, thoroughly enjoy my trip on the Mon. Of course the hospitality of the Mon valley inhabitants was an overriding factor, But I think, even lacking that, I would have loved the journey. Cool dawns, warm balmy days, radiant sunsets - it all added up to a pleasant trip.

When I got to Pittsburgh, where the Mon ends, and the Ohio begins, I wasn't sure what to expect. I grew up in Cincinnati, and as a kid, I remember the vastness of the river, the muddy banks, the bridges, and in the spring, the floods that scared me silly. Now I'm on the river, literally. A bit different than the Ohio of my childhood.

Again, the Ohio is a commercial waterway, but there is quite a bit of recreational boating too. Marinas are abundant, boat ramps are plentiful, most small towns have some sort of river access. The Ohio has been serving river travelers for almost three hundred years, so I would imagine access to the river towns is a carryover from the past.

I much as I love the Ohio, I find upon close examination that it also has problems. There are also trains and highways along the banks, and there are huge buildings on both sides that house all sorts of machinery, the purpose for which I have no clue. Most buildings have cranes and docks at the river, coal elevators, and from them you will hear the constant banging, clanging, booming of industry.

There's more to tell, but I will reserve it for another time. For now, back to my daily log.