Youghiogheny River AKAs

RATE THIS POST! CLICK ON A STAR ABOVE

CAROLYN’S COMPOSITIONS

YOUGHIOGHENY RIVER AKAs

Yuck waters

Yok

 Yough

Yohogany

Yohogania

Yok-yo-gane

 Yoxhiogeni

 Yaughyaughane

Yawyawganey

Yochi Geni

Youghanne

Yuh-wiac-hanne

 Yoxhio Geni

     The common theme of the above names: the Youghiogheny River, pronounced yock-a-gay’-nee. The variety of names are AKAs for the river, gleaned from historic documents and journals, and the Internet.

     I was told that people along the river in Southwestern Pennsylvania refer to it as the Yough is because they cannot pronounce Youghiogheny. However, my granddaughter, when she was a mere eighteen months old, rolled the name off the tip of her tongue with ease.

     The Yohogany is the only river in western Maryland that doesn’t flow south into the Potomac River. Thus, its name, derived from an Algonquian word, means contrary stream.

     Captain Robert Orme, an aide to General Braddock in 1755, wrote that about crossing the Yoxhio Geni on June 30: we crossed the main body…which was about two hundred yards wide and about three feet deep….

     From the writings of Rufus Putnam, cofounder of the 1986 Ohio Company: until the 1^st February, completing some plats of the late surveys, when they left for mouth of Yoh.

     A 1751 map labeled the river Yawyawganey.

~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

     Yough and Yok rhyme with rock, descriptive of the nature of the rock-littered river. These rocks provide some of the best whitewater in the Eastern United States but inhibit the river’s commercial use, as seen in the May, 1754, George Washington writings where he wondered

An Awakening on a Beach Walk

CAROLYN’S COMPOSITIONS

AWAKENING ON A BEACH WALK

Nancy Briskay Cornell Holland

     The ocean beach scene below could be Wallis Sands Beach in New Hampshire, Lamoine Beach or Old Orchard Beach in Maine, or a Connecticut beach in near one of the communities my late mother spent her childhood.

~~~~~~~~~~~   

     Tentatively reaching out long slender fingers, the newly awakened sun dispelled the remaining wisps of fog rising out of the blue-gray water. Here and there, dotted on the surface of the ocean, reflections of the sun sparkled, winked and disappeared. Soft ripples crossed the calm surface of the water, testifying to the awakening of life below the surface. A foghorn, sounding eerie and remote and somewhat comforting, sang out like a husky tenor, throaty and sad.

     Yielding an imprint of my every step, creating a human pattern along the shore, the sand felt clean and damp under my bare feet. Caressing my skin, a soft breeze held an ever-so-slight promise of delicious warmth. The smell of the sea was in my nostrils. My lips savored the taste of salt.

     As I walked along the beach, a crab scuttled into its hole. Sandpipers, ignoring

Bear One Another’s Burdens

CAROLYN’S COMPOSITONS

BEAR ONE ANOTHER’S BURDENS

SCRIPTURE: Galatians 6:2    Bear ye one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.     

Related Scripture:  Romans 15:1

REFLECTION: It takes a village to raise a child is wisdom. Parents cannot be all-seeing, all-knowing, omnipresent.
     One Sunday morning I meandered to my window to enjoy the playing of two young boys whose voices wafted through my open window Instead I found something frightening! They were playing “chicken” with big trucks speeding down the hill in front of the church parsonage where I lived.
     It was not my business. Right? I was in no condition to do anything in my robe and curlers. Right? I had to be at church in fifteen minutes, so I didn’t have time to act. Right?

Things About Television That Irritate Me

CAROLYN’S COMPOSITIONS

TELEVISION THINGS THAT IRRITATE ME

     Television producers don’t get it. Below are several examples.

     I’m sitting working in a motel room in Black Lake, New York. My husband and I are watching a movie on television as I write this. We try to be respectful of other guests when we are traveling. When we have the television on, the volume is just loud enough for us to hear—that is, until the commercials. Then the television set can be heard above the noise of

Journaling—Try It. You Might Enjoy It.

CAROLYN’S COMPOSITIONS   

Subscribe today!

TO RECEIVE E-MAIL NOTIFICATION

OF NEW POSTS ON CAROLYN’S  COMPOSITIONS

 (to subscribe see upper right hand post on this site—

Notification will begin after you confirm your subscription

in the e-mail you will receive from wordpress.com )

JOURNALING—TRY IT. YOU MIGHT ENJOY IT.

     On August 7, the Rev. Manasseh Cutler was traveling from Ipswhich, Massachusetts, to the Muskingum River in the Northwest Territory, Ohio. His travels began on July 19.

     …we took the Glade road to the left…(from Bedford, a shire-town)…We then began to ascend the Allegheny Mountains; our ascent pretty steep; very anxious…We passed an old empty cabin, where we found fine feed in the road, clover mid-leg high, and here we baited our horses for some time. We then began to ascend the Allegheny Mountains; our ascent pretty steep; very anxious…Before we began to descend the Allegheny Mountains, we came into the wagon road, which relieved our fears. We baited our horses for a few minutes at the first house, a Dutch cabin. The descent of the Alleghany Mountains is not steep, but the road is new and bad. We went on to Black’s, in the Glades, twenty-three miles from our last stage, where we breakfasted, without eating or drinking anything bur water by the way, and arrived about sunset. A fine, cool day. From this place, the waters run west. The Allegheny Mountains is the line between the east and west waters…Friday, Aug. 8…This is a pretty good house for this country, a good plantation, and prices reasonable. Went on just after sunrise…Our next stage at Coldpenny’s tavern, about nine and a half miles…Road passable and breakfast tolerable good. A prodigious number of pack-horses at this stage.

     Went on six miles to Laurel Mountain. The ascent not steep; moderately good over the mountain to the descent, except muddy and wet; but the descent is very steep; the road tolerable after we got to the bottom. It is ten miles over this mountain. A poor French house six miles on, but nothing to be had; and at the foot west is a poor house—not much to be had. Went on three miles to Anfret’s, a Dutch house, on Chestnut Ridge, where we lodged…here we dined and supped in the same meal; a good keeping for horses and passable for ourselves. Traveled to-day twenty-eight miles. (total 571)

     Saturday, Aug. 9. Did not set out very early. Went on to Mount Pleasant township, seven miles, and breakfasted at Kneely’s tavern, a good house. From this, we proceeded to Sumrell’s Ferry, thirteen miles…Four miles short of the ferry, I stopped to see Jarvis…Jarvis was gone to Hannah’s Town…We crossed Youghiogheny River just before we came to Sumrell’s…year 1788.***

     This long introduction about Southwestern Pennsylvania was written in 1788.  I chose it because it relates a road trip over Laurel Mountain. I suspect the route Rev. Cutler traveled was today’s Route 31—thus, he didn’t pass by the Laurel Mountain foothill where I live—Route 30. If I am correct, he would have traveled quite near Chuck and Sal Martin’s home. Sal, a member of the Beanery Writers Group, writes local history.

     Rev. Cutler couldn’t suspect that 222 years after he wrote his journal a writer would be using it as

Coffee Hour at “Echoes on the Lake”

CAROLYN’S COMPOSITIONS

Subscribe today!

TO RECEIVE E-MAIL NOTIFICATION

OF NEW POSTS ON CAROLYN’S COMPOSITIONS

(to subscribe see upper right hand post on this site—

Notification will begin after you confirm your subscription

in the e-mail you will receive from wordpress.com )

COFFEE HOUR AT “ECHOES ON THE LAKE”

Scene 1: The Yearbook

Scene 2: Mr. Roach

Scene 3: Elderly Suicide

Scene 4: My last day

     While visiting Edwardsville, New York, and staying at the Sunnyside of Black Lake cottages*, I walked across the street for my morning coffee at Echoes on the Lake, a small-town Mom & Pop store. Following are scenes gleaned from my visits.

 Scene 1: The Yearbook

     Local customers, sitting around a table in a small-town corner Mom & Pop store in Edwardsville, New York, scrutinized on photos in a small book—the 1962 Erie County Technical Institute yearbook.

     Two were 1963 alumni who had met at the coffee machine two days

Nancy

previously. They never met while students at the community college in Williamsville, New York. Nancy was a resident of Morristown, New York, who studied to be a dental hygienist. Carolyn was a transient, staying in the cottages at Sunnyside of Black Lake, across the street from the store. Nancy had invited Carolyn, to join several persons—other locals—sitting at the two tables in the back of the store, conveniently located by the coffee machine and sandwich/pizza  counter. Locals wandered in and out, sharing the camaraderie which characterizes “coffee klatch” gatherings found in many corner stores where people gather for their morning coffee. Later, someone described Nancy as the

Osprey in New York’s St. Lawrence Valley

CAROLYN’S COMPOSITIONS

OSPREY IN NEW YORK’S ST. LAWRENCE VALLEY

 …Atlantic salmon are the glamorous aristocrats (of the sea, as viewed by human eyes)…From 1865 to 1910, an habitant by the name of Napoleon Comeau was employed to guard the salmon in the rather inconsequential Godbout River on the north shore of the St. Lawrence estuary…Napoleon’s task was to make sure that nobody and nothing took so much as a smolt from the waters that belonged to (his employers, a handful of Montreal businessmen and politicos who had leased exclusive salmon fishing rights on the Godbout River)…For forty-three years, he and his assistants waged war up and down the river and in the adjacent waters of the estuary against “Those base enemies of the regal salmon: white whales, porpoises, seals, bears, minks, otters, mergansers, kingfishers, ospreys, and loons.”***(bold inserted).***

~~~~~~~~~~~~

     “What’s that?” my husband Monte and I wondered as we saw what looked like a bird nest on top of an electric pole on our route between Black Lake in Edwardsville, New York, and Edwards, New York.

     When Monte spotted a second nest, I proclaimed “STOP!” I put my camera strap around my neck as he compliantly pulled over. Pointing my camera, I put my trigger finger to work, and capturing a large bird flying from its nest. Then I moved in to record the nest itself, also dangerously constructed atop an electric pole.

     We arrived at Sunnyside of Black Lake, a nine-room series rooms, attached behind a house, nicely located on the lake. We mentioned the nests to the business owners, Karl and Carolyn Geiger. He explained that what we saw were osprey nests.  

     My interest in ospreys began with a visit to Googins Island, Maine, an osprey refuge. I’d researched them on the Internet, and was preparing a post on them (to read, click on: Googins Island, Maine: An Osprey Sanctuary).

 

 

Photo by Karl Geiger

     Ospreys can be considered Eagles based on their size, and certainly have overlapping behavior and habitats with eagles, such as the Bald Eagle. Ospreys, specifically, are very well adapted for living near shore, and feeding on shallow-water fish…

eagles, hawks and falcons differentiate based on size, shape, color, and method of flight, but there are many minor differences in behavior, habitat and feeding that can help with the differentiation.*

     Ospreys are typically found in New York’s St. Lawrence Valley between April and September—they migrate to South America for the winter. They catch their primary food, fish, by plunging into the water feet first. With needle-sharp hooked

Googins Island, Maine: An Osprey Sanctuary

CAROLYN’S COMPOSITIONS

GOOGINS ISLAND, MAINE: AN OSPREY SANCTUARY

     OPREY SANCTUARY.

PLEASE KEEP OFF

Sign on Googins Island, Maine

     The sign was on tiny Googins Island just fifty feet offshore in Wolfe Neck Park, Freeport, Maine. My husband Monte and I were there for two reasons. First, I was walking all the mainland beaches between Lamoine Beach, Maine and Wallis Sands Beach, Portsmouth, New Hampshire. And second, this island was named after the Googins family, one of my ancestral branches (see THE GOOGINS GENEALOGICAL LINE section at the end of this post).

I could walk on the sand, but not on Googins Island

     At low tide, the area separating Googins Island from the mainland was almost like quicksand. Perhaps we would sink if we stepped onto it, I thought, as I stepped gingerly on rocks, avoiding the wet sand.

     I was disappointed that we couldn’t walk around this tiny island. I also wondered: What is an osprey? Why does it need “sanctuary?”

     As usual, I surfed the Internet. I discovered that one of the biggest natural attractions at Wolf Neck State Park is the osprey nest on adjacent Googin’s Island, viewable from the mainland.** Not knowing what to look for, I didn’t spot the nest.

     The osprey became rare as nesting bird, especially in the northern and eastern parts of United States where unsuccessful reproduction believed result of chemical pollution of waters and fishes on which Osprey preys.*

     It is considered a raptor—a bird of prey—and is listed in the biological order Falconiformes. It hunts for its food with its extremely sharp claws, excellent eyes, and powerful wings.

     The osprey, almost eagle size, measures

Old Testament History Progresses

CAROLYN’S COMPOSITIONS

OLD TESTAMENT HISTORY PROGRESSES

SCRIPTURE: Matthew 5:17   “Do not think that I came to destroy the Law or the Prophets. I did not come to destroy but to fulfill….”  (KJV)

REFLECTION: After a vicious thunderstorm I sat in a rocky cove at Wallis Sands Beach, New Hampshire, watching five to ten foot waves roll shoreward with undefeatable purpose, hitting the sand with resounding break patterns of power and force.

Wallis Sands Beach, N. H.

     Distant waves, calm and peaceful, rose in height, appearing as an expanding mirror. Whitecaps majestically crowned these waves with increasing frequency. Photographic water sprays occurred as waves broke over rocks impeding their progress.

     Some waves raced to catch up with others, merging in an empowering union. Others gracefully moved at their own pace, seeming content in their journey. Some faded out, absorbed by following waves. The white foam created by the waves’ final landing brought beauty, chaos, turmoil, debris, power and hope to the shore.

     As the foam spent itself the remaining water folded

Jellyfish Sting Wallis Sands Beach Visitors

CAROLYN’S COMPOSITIONS

JELLYFISH STING WALLIS SANDS BEACH VISITORS

      In July, 2010, one hundred visitors to Wallis Sands Beach, New Hampshire, were stung by a large, dead, jellyfish.

     The jellyfish, identified as a Lion’s Mane jellyfish, fell apart when State Park staff attempted to remove it from the beach. Its stingers remained active though it was dead.*

      The Lion’s Mane jellyfish, rare as far south as the New Hampshire coastline, isn’t normally seen in such shallow waters. Lifeguards spotted the creature described by the Park Manager, Ken Loughlin, as the size of a “turkey platter,” and weighing nearly fifty pounds. The state’s chief of marine fisheries, Doug Grout, said this jellyfish species jellyfish, usually found in northern New England, averages eight feet in diameter and can have tentacles up to fifty feet.

     All the action transpired in about 20 minutes, when Warburton and his colleagues administered first aid (vinegar treatment). “There wasn’t time to sit and measure this thing. We just got rid of it,” Warburton told LiveScience. “Think about a glob of Jell-O you’re trying to pick up with two hands,” he said, explaining the need for a pitchfork to pick it up.**

~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Jellyfish at Lamoine Beach, Maine

     Wallis Sands Beach was my family’s beach of choice when my sister (Nancy) Lee and I lived in Portsmouth, New Hampshire. When we children went there with our grandparents, we rode in my grandfather’s Chevy. My grandmother sat on the rocks at the end of the beach, beside the road, reading, visiting, or just relaxing. When we went with my mother, we took