Written By Silas Chamberlin

Remember that weekend last fall when you and your buddies piled into the car and made an epic journey through the Corridor, consuming large quantities of only the finest beer and artery-clogging but delicious food? Well, those days are over. The girl you met at Pittston’s Coopa Cabbana became your girlfriend, and things are getting serious. Everything about her seems perfect. She is beautiful, intelligent, funny, and a die-hard Phillies fan. But, recently, your world came crashing down. A week ago, you took her to Terpstra’s Tavern in Jim Thorpe, and, playing the role of gentleman, ordered up a pair of $2 burgers and a couple pints of Stoudt’s Scarlet Lady ESB.

Terpstra's Tavern in Jim Thorpe is home of the $2 burger.

When the drinks came, she took a defiant sip of her water and stated, “Sorry, I don’t like beer. It tastes bad, and it makes you fat.” Your heart skipped a beat, not sure which hurt more—the fact that the woman you were falling in love with hates beer or the thinly veiled reference to your beer gut. “But,” she continued, “I would really love a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon to go with this burger.” A group of guys at the bar, overhearing the conversation, laughed heartily, as you tried to repeat those fancy sounding words to the waitress. “You know,” you thought to yourself, “if I am going to make this relationship work, I need to swallow my pride (and these two pints of Stoudt’s) and cultivate an appreciation for wine.” Turning to your girlfriend, you asked, “Honey, how would you like to do a wine tour of Eastern Pennsylvania?”

The Inn at Bowman's Hill is one of Bucks County's most popular Bed & Breakfasts.

You both agree to start in Bucks County to work your way north, and, after eschewing your customary pizza-flavored Combos for Vitamin Water and rice crisps, you are ready to start your tour. You make the short drive from the Inn at Bowman’s Hill, where you spent the night, to Crossing Vineyards and Winery, located less than half a mile from the Delaware Canal in the town of Washington Crossing. The grounds of this family-owned winery are breathtaking. In addition to 15-acres of vines, there are manicured lawns, fountains, flower beds, and a 200-year old stone home. You especially get a kick out of all of the winery’s green initiatives, from solar power and composting to recycling and sustainable agricultural practices. You decide to order a bottle of their Le Nouveau, a semi-dry wine culled from the early harvest, to drink on the patio. Your girlfriend points out the tannic structure; you think it “tastes…like wine.”

One of the gardens at Crossing Vineyards.

Regretfully leaving the idyllic winery grounds, you hop on scenic Route 32, which offers great views of the Delaware River, and continue north to the canal-side town of New Hope and its eponymous New Hope Winery. The winery sells bottles of its wines here, but the grapes actually come from northwestern Pennsylvania. Buy a bottle or two of their award-winning Riesling, which benefits from the cooler, lakeside climate. Try to pick out the rose petal aroma and perhaps an apricot aftertaste. You decide to stick around to listen to the local musicians who play at the winery. You’re lucky, this week the Simon and Garfunkel Tribute Band is in town!

The New Hope Winery offers tastings of their northwestern PA wines and live music.

Before hitting your next destination, you turn west for the Peddlers’ Village in Lahaska. “Uh oh,” you’re thinking. “The only thing worse than a winery tour is a winery and shopping tour.” But three million annual visitors can’t be wrong, and, after milling around the 70 shops and 6 restaurants, you have to admit that this is a pretty neat place. You’re especially fond of the Cock n’ Bull Restaurant, which serves an unforgettable baked brie with raspberry and walnut glaze. Now if only you could get “I am a Rock” out of your head…

Lahaska's Peddler's Village offers over 70 shops and 6 restaurants.

Sticking close to the river, you head north for Sand Castle Winery. This 72-acre estate, with views of the Delaware River, has been turning out bottles of Pinot Noir, Riesling, and other favorites since the mid-1980s. Amidst the vines, you’re starting to realize that half the fun of a winery tour is walking the grounds. The estate includes a light-tan stucco building with faux battlements and parapets—hence, “sand castle”—that gives the grounds a European feel. You marvel at the structure, wondering “how much it costs to insure this place?,” as your girlfriend purchases two bottles of the Private Reserve Chablis to serve at your annual clam bake.

Rows of vines lead up to the "Sand Castle."

In your attempts to duck out of conversations with overzealous tasting room winos, you’ve been reading the promotional materials at every winery, and as a budding sommelier, you recognize that as you head further north and turn west along the Lehigh River, you are entering a new viticultural area, or wine region. You had been in the Central Delaware Valley viticultural area, which spans some 96,000 acres along the Delaware River, but, as you head west on Route 22, you enter the 1.2-million acre Lehigh Valley viticultural area. With a similar climate to the Nantes region of France, Lehigh Valley wineries specialize in Chambourcin, a wine with the peppery spiciness of Shiraz, the softness of Merlot, and the aging properties of Cabernet. Or, so they say in the brochures…

Just south of Bath, Amore Vineyards great wine, fresh produce, and flowers.

As you head west past Easton, your longing eyes peer to the left, searching in vain for a glimpse of Weyerbacher Brewing’s non-descript warehouse. “Honey, keep an eye out for Route 512,” your girlfriend says, snapping you out of your hops and barley reverie and back to the task at hand. Your next stop is Amore Vineyards and Winery, just outside the small town of Bath. During a tasting, you discover that Amore vints a Cayuga that drinks like a Riesling but with a more complex floral bouquet. You are enjoying a second glass, when your girlfriend comes back inside chatting with Gregg Amore, the owner of the winery. “Gregg offers flying instruction in a 1970s era Twin Comanche,” she says excitedly. “He has an opening in two hours.” You thoughtfully remind her that the next winery is beckoning. (Besides, you’re afraid of heights.)

Clover Hill regularly offers tours of their facilities.

She takes the bait, and you are off to the west of Allentown, where both Clover Hill and Vyncrest wineries make their homes. Clover Hill is a relatively large winery, with storefront locations throughout Eastern Pennsylvania. Try their Spiced Apple wine, with hints of cinnamon and clove. It is surprisingly refreshing, even on warm summer days, and it would make a perfect choice for the crisp autumn nights that are just around the corner. Just up the road is the smaller but no less impressive Vynecrest Vineyards. Vynecrest got its start back in the heady days of 1973, when John and Jan Landis were swept up by the homesteading movement and bought five acres of farmland. The next year they had fifty vines in the soil, and, after about 15 more years, they quite generously decided to share their wines with the rest of us. You escape the heat by ducking into Vynskeller, the winery’s weekends-only wine bar, which also serves appetizers. Today they are featuring goat cheese from Stonecroft Farm in Macungie, and you sagaciously pair it with the house white.

The tasting room at Vyncrest fills up quickly on the weekends.

Next you head north for a little valley about 20 minutes west of Jim Thorpe, where Galen Glen Vineyard has made its home since 1995. The tasting room is located on a hillside and offers panoramic views of the vine-covered glen below. Before settling down at the tasting bar, you are lucky enough to run into Harry, an imposing figure who wows you with his knowledge of wine and, perhaps more importantly, food pairings. He shares his secret recipe for Spanish clams and shrimp tapas. “Pair them with our Grüner Veltliner,” Harry whispers, as if imparting sacred knowledge, “and you’ll never think of food the same way again.” Always the planner, you buy a bottle of Stone Cellar Barrel Twenty Nine, already imagining how good this port will taste sitting around the campfire on your next fishing trip.

The wine is as good as the view at Galen Glen Winery.

Swinging east to historic Jim Thorpe across an increasingly mountainous region, you drop in for dinner at Flow, a farm-to-table restaurant operated by the Carbon County Cultural Project (CCCP). Flow is located in a restored 1850s wire works factory, which also doubles as an art gallery and studio space. The local art is alright, but you are more interested in the large opening in the floor that provides a view of a gushing stream, running directly beneath the buildings. You settle in at a table near the stream, order up some whole wheat potato gnocchi, and settle on a bottle of Rose Eye, one of three wines produced under the CCCP label. “Ahhh,” you muse, “I could get used to this wine thing.”

CCCP's Flow Restaurant is housed in a nineteenth-century wire factory.

Making your way down the hill into downtown historic Jim Thorpe, you see a sign for Big Creek Vineyard. You slow down and stare into the rearview mirror, seeking—amidst the crates of wine and luggage—room for just one last bottle. “What the hell,” you say to your girlfriend, “you have space in the front seat, right?” Big Creek’s vines are actually located in Kresgeville, just east of Beltzville State Park, but they maintain a store front in Jim Thorpe to lure people like you into buying a couple of bottles on their way through town. After conversing with the staff, you settle on two extremes: the port-like Frontenac, which you enjoyed once in its homeland of Minnesota but haven’t seen since, and the Apple Raspberry fruit wine, which should go well with that block of blue cheese in the cooler.

Big Creek Vineyards has a storefront location in Historic Jim Thorpe.

Back in the car, you consult the map. “Well, it looks like we are just about back to the place where this all started,” you remark regretfully, not wanting your wine and food fueled journey to end. “You know,” your girlfriend hesitantly responds, “Scranton is not far from here…” You searched her face, trying to figure out what she meant. It had only been six months since you last toured the Anthracite Heritage Museum, so that couldn’t be it. Like any good Phillies fan, you can’t stomach New York teams, so no Scranton/Wilkes-Barre Yankees game. The Steamtown Mall? The Houdini Museum? Sno Cove Water Park? “Hmm. I’m not really sure what you mean…,” you begin to admit but stop in mid sentence, recognition washing over you: “You want to go to Carmen’s!!??”

Carmen's is located within the recently restored Lackawanna Station.

Carmen’s Restaurant & Wine Bar, located in the grand lobby of the Radisson Lackawanna Station Hotel, is a diamond in the culinary rough of northeastern PA. Financially drained from your adventure, you settle for a bread plate with hummus and tapenade and, feeling courageous, an ahi tuna sushi pizza. With little thought, you select a 2007 Erath Pinot Noir to pair with the hummus and the sushi—a move that gets an approving nod from the impressed waiter. Sitting back in your plush seat, you admire the beaux arts structure with its vaulted, Tiffany-glass ceiling—a testament to the booster optimism of fin de siècle Scranton. This is even nicer than Weissport’s Boat Yard Bar, you think to yourself. Finishing your meal and pouring two more glasses of wine, you and your partner take to the dance floor…

The dining room at Carmen's, located in the Grand Lobby of the Lackawanna Station.

As the sun sets on another beautiful Pennsylvania day, you find yourself sitting on a bench outside the Coopa’ Cabana, the tiki bar that brought you and your girlfriend together for the first time. Attempting to impress her with your newfound appreciation for and knowledge of wine, you pull out a bottle of Bartolai’s Callabritto, made just down the river in Harding. “It is a unique dry blend, amore mio, with a sophisticated fruit taste,” you announce, in your best faux-Italian accent. She, laughs, and pulls out her own surprise—a bottle of Victory’s Yakima Twilight. “It has the tenacious grip of big, juicy hop aroma and character that slides smoothly into rich, dark malts,” she recites from the bottle. You look at her with loving eyes, as the sun dips below the horizon, “I think this is the beginning of a beautiful relationship.”

You must be 21 years old to consume alcoholic beverages.  Always drink responsibly.

Written By Silas Chamberlin

Patrick Brown’s new book Industrial Pioneers: Scranton, Pennsylvania and the Transformation of America, 1840-1902 is a much-needed study of a city that played a disproportionately formative role in nineteenth-century American industrial history. Scranton was at the center of iron rail production, anthracite coal mining, and steelmaking, and, at a time when electricity was a fantastic novelty, the pragmatic city began operating the first electric street car system in the nation. “Scranton was,” argues Brown, “the Silicon Valley of the nineteenth century (p.2).” Because Scranton was on the cutting edge of industrial innovation, it was also forced to deal with many modern problems, such as immigration, labor strife, and the myriad evils of rapid population growth. As Scranton struggled to come to terms with what it meant to be an industrial city, the nation watched and learned.  This book chronicles the many changes to Scranton’s people, industries, and landscape, providing interesting quotations and well-chosen historic photos along the way.

Patrick Brown is the author of a new industrial history of Scranton.

As an undergraduate at Georgetown University, Brown studied under Joseph McCartin, the well-known historian of the industrial democracy movement. McCartin’s influence is clear in the pages of Industrial Pioneers, the majority of which Brown wrote as a senior history thesis. In a sense, Brown frames his narrative as a declension from the independent village blacksmith and egalitarian society of the 1840s to the alienated and—despite the mixed successes of labor organizers—ethnically divided industrial workers of the late nineteenth century, who lived in a city disrupted by a transient population, capital mobility, and chaotic national markets. Within this generalized framework, however, Brown does justice to the many exceptions to the decline and presents a realistic vision of a city that has continuously “reinvented” itself. Perhaps this fair treatment of the period is why Brown was awarded Georgetown’s prestigious Morris Medal for the work.

Brown makes the interesting observation that Scranton continues to be a bellwether for the nation’s political climate—simply witness the attention focused on the city during the 2008 Presidential season. Just as Scranton was among the leaders of industrial innovation for much of the nineteenth century, it has become synonymous with deindustrialization in the late twentieth and early twenty-first centuries. Now, as Scranton struggles to reinvent itself once more, the work of Brown and other historians is more necessary than ever, so the mistakes of the past are not repeated.

I recently had the opportunity to ask Patrick Brown a few questions about his new book:

Silas Chamberlin: Is it easier or more difficult to write the history of the place where you live?

Patrick Brown: While I currently live in Mississippi, I was born in Scranton. My father’s side of the family comes from Scranton, and my roots in the city make Scranton’s rise even more interesting. Writing this book helped me to understand where I come from—I even stumbled on some family history in my research. My ancestor, John Reedy, was elected vice-president of a meeting held in 1877 to protest the conviction of the Irish Democratic Party leader, Frank Beamish (whom a political opponent labeled as, “a smaller edition of New York’s Boss Tweed”).

Silas: Does Scranton have a lot of good archival sources? If so, which sites did you visit? Did you need to go elsewhere for your material?

Patrick: I was extremely fortunate to have access to the Lackawanna Historical Society and the Albright Memorial Library in Scranton, both of which provided me with invaluable resources about the early history of the city. The Terence Powderly collection at Catholic University in Washington, D.C. also proved amazingly helpful. I benefited greatly from the fact that I conducted my research in 2009, because older histories of Scranton (Hitchcock, Throop, Logan and others) are now available for free through Google Books, and as a result are full-text searchable.

Silas: What was the most surprising thing you discovered in the course of your research?

Patrick: Before I began my research, I knew that Scranton housed many immigrant communities in the nineteenth century. I was shocked, however, by the extent to which foreign-born workers defined the city in its early years. The Hyde Park section of the city was a “mini-Wales” in which “Welsh postmen walked along Welsh-named streets to deliver letters from Wales to Welsh homes,” and ethnic tensions between Welsh, Irish, German, and British immigrants ran high. By 1854, fourteen years after the Scranton family arrived in the city and began producing iron, only 27 percent of Scranton’s residents were native-born Americans. The process of researching this book has put today’s immigration debate in perspective, and convinced me that America is a nation that constantly reinvents itself. It would be difficult for a thoughtful reader to get through “Industrial Pioneers” without constantly reflecting on the links between America’s transformation in the nineteenth century and the challenges we currently face in a rapidly-changing world.

Silas: You are now employed by Teach for America. Has a degree in history or your research on Scranton given you a unique perspective on difficult social issues or on American society in general?

Patrick: I teach 10th to 12th grade social studies at Greenville-Weston High School in the Mississippi Delta. The parallels between Scranton and the Delta are remarkable: both face the loss of manufacturing jobs and struggle to retain talented young people, and both have residents who retain an intense sense of place and care deeply about their communities. While Scranton’s industrial history shaped America in the nineteenth century, the civil rights struggles in the Delta shaped America in the twentieth century. I find that my understanding of Scranton’s complex social history has helped me begin to understand the equally complex history of the Mississippi Delta. More broadly, researching Scranton served to crystallize the basic idea that I try to communicate to my students: history tends to draw on itself, and that those who understand the past will define our world.

Silas: Finally, do you have any plans for future research?

Patrick: The history of the education system in the Mississippi Delta fascinates me, and Americans outside the Delta know very little about this part of the country. Stay tuned.

Notes:

• The quote in question 1 is from page 493 of Frederick Hitchcock’s History of Scranton and its People.
• The quote in question 3 is from page 27 of William Jones’s Wales in America: Scranton and the Welsh, 1860-1920.

Patrick Brown’s Industrial Pioneers is available for purchase from Tribute Books.

Written By Silas Chamberlin

Our “Take a Hike!” series will periodically feature a favorite day hike or bike on the D&L Trail.  The second installment is a hike on the trails within Lehigh Gap Nature Center.  The hike utilizes the D&L and Appalachian trails and the network of footpaths that link the two.  This is a difficult hike that gains elevation rapidly, as the trail ascends the side of the Kittatinny Ridge.  The effort is well worth it.  Expect to see lots of wildlife, especially a variety of birds, and spectacular views to the north.  For those of you on bikes or looking for a less daunting challenge, see the optional ride along the LNE and D&L trails.

A footpath ascends the Kittatinny Ridge.

Lehigh Gap Nature Center: D&L Trail to Appalachian Trail

Total Distance: 7 miles round trip
Rating: Difficult
Trail Surface: rolled ballast and footpath
Activities: hiking (for bikes, see optional route)
Trailhead amenities: parking; portable toilet at Nature Center
Click here to download a .pdf map of the trail section.

Park at the D&L Trailhead on Paint Mill Rd. in Slatington and travel north on D&L Trail.

Mile
0.31 – Lehigh Gap Nature Center
1.35 – left onto short “Bobolink Trail”
1.48 – take “Prairie Grass Trail” (footpath – no bikes) and begin rapid ascent
1.8 – left onto “Charcoal Trail”
2.58 – intersection with “North Trail” (blue blazes)
4.5 – left onto “Appalachian Trail” (white blazes) at second radio tower
6.4 – left onto “Woodpecker Trail”
6.6 – right onto D&L Trail at Lehigh Gap Nature Center
Continue south 0.3 mile to trailhead.

Optional (recommended for riders): At 1.48 make right onto “LNE Trail” (rail trail) and continue west.  Note that biking downhill on the Bobolink Trail may be hazardous, due to the rough surface. At 3.22, follow Pine Tree Lane for 700 feet. Make left onto Sunset Drive and then a quick right. Follow paved road for 350 feet towards river. Make a right onto the D&L Trail (rolled ballast). Continue 3.4 miles to trailhead. Round trip: 6.5 miles.

Did you take this hike? Have you been here in the past? Leave a comment and let us know about it! Send your photos to Silas@DelawareandLehigh.org.