The Catskill Chronicle

Liz and the fishing family in Bristol, PA.

Story and photos by Leni Santoro

All along the 330-mile stretch from Philadelphia, PA to Hancock, NY we stopped at various points, some planned and some spur of the moment. Each of the stops seemed somehow pre-destined in that, even when we were lost or simply searching for food or gas, we would find people to talk to who said they would take the message further or a message, sometimes in the form of a sign on the side of the road, which indicated to us we had taken the right turn.

Our experience in Philadelphia had been a positive one. We had been able to make contact with an environmental activist (Mark Barbash) and had taken the message of the river party to folks at the Fairmont Waterworks visitor’s center whose work there is to inform people about the Fairmont Waterworks and also the importance of clean water. Our stop at the EPA office was not as successful (see Day One – Philadelphia for more details), but we did make it to Constitution Hall to take a photo and re-charge our energies and our determination to invite everyone to “take back their resources,” as Liz puts it.

After Philadelphia we headed north along the Delaware to Bristol, PA.

First settled as Buckingham in 1681, the borough of Bristol is about a 15 to 30 minute ride north from Philadelphia. William Penn founded the Pennsylvania Colony on March 4, 1681. From 1681 until 1725 Bristol served as the capitol of the colony. Many historic and restored houses line the streets of Radcliffe and Mill. It is a city steeped in history and imbued with a love of the Delaware River that flows beside it.

In our determination to get as close to the river as possible we found ourselves at a riverside park in Bristol. I say “found ourselves",” because, though we had the best of intentions to follow a planned route, we oftentimes just lucked-into where we ended up and that’s where we would stop. And while Bristol was in our plans, we didn’t know they had a park alongside the river until we got there.

I think when I started out on this adventure it was my intention to act as a friend, travel companion and documentarian. But, from the moment we hit Bristol I felt the need to join in handing out party invitations and talking with folks about gas drilling and hydro-fracking. So many people we met had not even heard that big national and multi-national corporations such as Chesapeake, Hess and others were signing leases with landowners that would allow them to drill, using a hydro-fracturing process, into the Marcellus Shale, much less that there were examples of environmental problems associated with this process that were documented from Wyoming to Pennsylvania.

I would listen as Liz described the process, what it might mean to the river basin and to the communities both large and small if things did not go right. As we left the car I grabbed my camera and my tape player, but I also grabbed business cards and flyers. I got involved.

We went in opposite directions. I met a man sitting with a camera who was taking photos of the Delaware. I talked to him, he seemed anxious about my approach at first, then seemed to relax when I explained that really all we wanted was for people to have a good time on the Labor Day weekend, but to include the river in their thoughts and then at 7 p.m. take a single cup of water, pour it into the Delaware in remembrance and in celebration of a natural resource that belongs to the people, not the corporations. To take back their natural resource. Then at 7:30 p.m. to light a candle to show vigilance in protection, celebration of and reverence for that resource.

We were asking too, that people photograph themselves, wherever possible, and then send the photos to us so that we could plot them on a map and create a poster, or something of the sort, including all the photos, that we could use to show those in charge of making decisions about the gas drilling and fracking process just how many people cared about the river and had made a commitment to ensure its water’s purity and its communities way of life.

We met young people in the park, older folks, business people and grandparents. While I was talking to the photographer and others, Liz was talking to a woman whose child was playing in the shade and a family who were fishing at the river’s edge. Some of these people took the flyer-invitation and said a quick thanks; others engaged in long conversations. As for us, we added parks to our list of places that we should stop along the way. We also added laundromats, and later on delis and barber shops to the list.

Many people thanked us for letting them know what was going on for so many had never heard of gas fracking, much less that there might be cause for concern.

After leaving Bristol, PA we continued north along the Delaware, here and there, taking a wrong turn that led to some other place and time, but nonetheless proved to be just where we were supposed to end up.

Such was the case with Lambertville, NJ.

When you are traveling all day long and your usual habit is to have a cup of coffee like some people reach for a drink of water when you find a place with some of the best coffee on earth, and it just happens to be a town that includes some of the most incredible architecture and a river walk, lost or not one tends to thank their lucky stars. I know I did.

We got to Lambertville late in the day. We stopped in at the coffee shop, left some cards, grabbed some coffee and headed out of town; on the wrong road. That’s when we saw a sign put up by www.watershed.org that spoke of a Butterfly Festival the next day. We turned around and got back on the right road, determined to come back in the morning in order to invite folks at the Butterfly Festival to the Light Up the Delaware River Party. Meanwhile, though, it was time to find a motel and get some rest.

To view photos or to purchase prints from Two Grannies River Trip Diary visit the Chronicle at Zenfolio.