Volume 4, Issue 4 (February 2011)
In This Issue...
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"Fossil Fuel Production & Environmental
Degradation " by Robert G. Zakula
"The 2010 Recreation & Parks Leadership
Summit" by Lenny Long
"Through Clear Windows" by Reginald
Pinckney
"Water-Quality Monitoring" by Md.
Khalequzzaman and John Way
"City Winter" by Zach Fishel
"The Plug-in Electric Hybrid" by Loretta
Dickson and Joseph Hoy
"Plain Old Use" by Mark Smith
"Thou Wanderer" by Adam Russo
"Hike of the Month" by Bob Myers

"UNLESS someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing
is going to get better. It's not." --Dr. Seuss, The Lorax

Another New Year
Welcome back! Thanks to our outstanding team of contributors, we have another eclectic mix of articles for
your reading pleasure. We'd like to invite you to become part of that team--we're always looking for
contributions on any topic related to the environment, outdoor recreation, or Pennsylvania culture. If you're
interested, contact Bob Myers.

Complacency and Civil Concern: Fossil Fuel Production and Environmental Degradation in Appalachia
and the Mid-Atlantic
--Robert G. Zakula, (LHUP Sec. Ed. Social Studies Alumni)
According to a new article by the Sierra Club, the United States
consumes 19.64 million barrels of oil a day. This consumption
is more than four times as the BP oil spill on a daily basis. As
well, over half of the consumed oil is imported, costing the
economy $180 billion a year. Lawmakers and citizens alike are
worried about foreign dependency and the rising cost of
oil. Dependence on oil has also been problematic for U.S.
foreign relations with the Middle East, a volatile region. Some
view alternative and sustainable energy projects as an
expensive fix and an additional burden on the record national
debt. To this extent, people in Appalachia and the MidAtlantic have been led to believe that the bridge to the future lies in domestic coal and natural gas
production. Yet, there are organizations and activists who oppose the production of these types of energy
sources and have witnessed the environmental destruction and ecological imbalance that has resulted thus
far.
Many Americans today see coal as the main domestic energy source, and the U.S. has plenty of it. Coal is no
doubt a major pollutant when burned, but there are also huge environmental consequences due to extreme
mining methods. Much coal is found in the Appalachian Mountains, and mining companies have been
practicing mountaintop removal, or surface mining, to search for the resource. Primarily located in West
Virginia, Virginia, Tennessee, and Kentucky, this process is done by placing dynamite around designated
mountains, blasting away the tops, and surfacing the terrain to expose coal seams. After mining operations
end, the excess waste from the mountain is then dumped into surrounding valleys. Valley-filling buries
valuable streams and wipes out wildlife, creating further environmental degradation. The cost to ecology
and human health, as well, is exorbitant in terms of air pollutants and contaminated drinking water.
Mountaintop removal mining is not only an efficient means to extract coal, it is also profitable for
companies. The process employs fewer miners than other methods, saving coal businesses money. The
mining companies sell the extracted coal to power plants across the country, a guaranteed market due to
demand and energy consumption. Many of the power plants that purchase mountaintop coal are located in
the Mid-Atlantic. According to the grassroots organization iLoveMountains, dozens of Pennsylvania power

plants are connected through direct or indirect purchase of coal. Some plants are even owned by companies
or subsidiaries that practice mountaintop removal mining.
Though mountaintop removal mining in the Appalachians has been around for thirty years or so, the process
has only garnered major national attention within the last decade. The Bush administration’s controversial
legacy on the environment has contributed to this, but so has the work of journalists and environmentalists
determined to stop one of the most destructive practices in the U.S. This exposure has confirmed the
ruination of Appalachia. In 2006, National Geographic described mountaintop removal as “strip mining on
steroids” and reported that over 400,000 acres of land and more than 1,200 miles of waterways had been
destroyed in Central Appalachia, with West Virginia being affected the most. Last year, the Natural
Resources Defense Council reported that 1.2 million acres of terrain in Central Appalachia had been leveled
over time because of mountaintop removal. Only 10% of all affected land has been reclaimed for economic
activity. Within many areas of Appalachia, the mining companies destroyed the mountains and simply left
the land untenured. Mining activities therefore created a scarred, barren land that had little chance for regrowth or development.
Many people in the Appalachian Mountains have protested mountaintop removal for a long time. An
Appalachian Voices spokesperson stated, “The fact that coal companies can blast away the tops of 500 of the
oldest and most biodiverse mountains on the continent shows an utter disrespect for the communities that
have to live with the destruction of their land, air, and water.” Statements like this are at the core of
Something’s Rising: Appalachians Fighting Mountaintop Removal (U. Press of Kentucky, 2011), which provides
compelling first-hand accounts of mountaintop removal mining. Authors Silas House and Jason Howard,
concerned about the crisis in Central Appalachia, examine the peoples’ struggle against coal companies that
practice mountaintop removal. Numerous communities in coal country are starting to realize the long-lasting
impact of this mining method on their region and lifestyle, and people are speaking out. House and
Howard’s research demonstrates concern for detail and provides a strong argument against mountaintop
removal. The authors acquired oral histories from union leaders, former coal miners, activists, and college
students, adding much-needed voices from below for the book’s purpose. Many of those interviewed
suggested more sensible, alternative mining practices or sustainable, green energy. House and Howard
successfully provide a subaltern perspective of the people who have experienced mountaintop removal
mining in their backyard. Something’s Rising is accessible and provides an engaging, informative, and heartwrenching story of an entire region affected by one of the most destructive human activities. In addition to
the aforementioned Appalachian Voices and iLoveMountains, other grassroots movements, such as Mountain
Justice, Earth Justice, and United Mountain Defense, have grown in protest against mountaintop removal to
save the environment and their livelihood.

Most recently, in an unprecedented move, the
Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) overturned a
permit for West Virginia’s Spruce No. 1 Mine in Logan
County. Originally endorsed during the Bush
Administration by the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers in
2007, this decision marks the first time in the agency’s
history it has stopped a project that had been previously
approved. The EPA used its authority under the Clean
Water Act to halt operations, citing the utmost concern for
water quality, wildlife, and Appalachian communities. The
Spruce No. 1 Mine, operated by Mingo-Logan, a subsidiary
of Arch Coal, would have been the largest mountaintop
removal operation in West Virginia. Much like other mountaintop removal operations in Appalachia, this
operation would have had devastating effects on the region, polluting the surrounding mountains and
waterways due to valley-filling. If Mingo-Logan were to practice mining in this area, it would have blasted
off and surfaced more than 2,300 acres of mountains and forests, dumped millions of tons of mining waste,
buried miles of clean streams, killed all wildlife in the area, and polluted and increased toxic levels in waters
downstream. The EPA’s decision on the Spruce No. 1 Mine was perhaps the most newsworthy due to the
large amount of environmental degradation. However, over the past two years, the EPA has significantly
increased its enforcement, denying 91 surface mining permits while approving only 16.
Environmentalists immediately praised the EPA’s ruling. The Sierra Club stated, “In sharp contrast to the
previous administration’s policies on mountaintop removal coal mining, [the] EPA is showing a strong
commitment to the law, the science and the principles of environmental justice. [The EPA] deserves enormous
credit for changing policies to protect Appalachia’s health, land, and water.” Consequently, there was
instantaneous backlash from the mining industry. The National Mining Association (NMA) and mining
companies have appealed the ruling. Claiming support for miners and their jobs, Senator Jay Rockefeller (DW.Va.) vowed to fight, as well. According to the pro-mining camp, the EPA failed to follow procedural rules
in denying the mining permit. Accordingly, a U.S. District Court Judge allowed lawsuits against the decision
to proceed. An overturn of the EPA’s ruling could have a major impact on the Obama administration’s
effectiveness to halt future mining projects that violate the Clean Water Act.
Pennsylvania’s mountains have been spared from the atrocities of mountaintop removal mining, however,
the natural environment and human health is threatened through other means. Though a limited number of
oil wells are still in production, there is a new-found search for energy sources in the Keystone State. The
Marcellus Shale drilling project, which seeks natural gas, has set up industry in many small towns, rural

areas, and natural habitat around the state. Despite public protest under Governor Rendell and at the
inauguration of Governor Corbett, corporations and private landowners are cooperating towards
Pennsylvania’s potential new natural gas boom.
Due to the lack of enforcement by the state, many communities are subject to the demands of companies
seeking to drill. Dozens of municipalities, most recently Murrysville and Benton, have held town hall
meetings to debate drilling limits in an attempt to persuade the outcome. Still, citizens have limited say on
how to enforce drilling codes. The Oil and Gas Act, which supposedly empowers people to regulate energy
law in their town, was written nearly thirty years ago. A Murrysville committee administrator stated, “[That
Act] came about when the Marcellus Shale was not yet in play…It put a set of handcuffs on us on what we
can enforce.” Similar concerns echoed in Benton, where township residents questioned a drilling company
interested in setting up an exploratory well. One resident declared, “It’s hard to know what’s true. It feels
like we don’t have any rights.” Another Benton resident said, “If something goes wrong, where do we turn?”
Any miscalculation or lack of oversight during natural gas drilling could have damaging consequences for
the environment and ecology. To reach natural gas deposits, the hydraulic fracturing process uses a
significant amount of surface water. There has also been concern, as well as lawsuits, over chemicals and
natural gas leaking into water sources. In some cases, this has resulted in contaminated water tables. Much
of the Marcellus Shale is underneath the Chesapeake Bay Watershed, which is perhaps the most
environmentally sensitive area in the Mid-Atlantic, and the Delaware River Basin. A recent report by the
EPA shows that natural gas drilling still releases high amounts of greenhouse gases, most importantly
methane. This is in contrast to industry claims that natural gas is a significantly cleaner fossil fuel than coal.
Using mountaintop removal coal mining as an example, natural gas drilling seems to have a similar capacity
to cause serious ecological problems. The direct link between the two situations is the contamination of
waterways and water tables in the Appalachians and Mid-Atlantic. Like mountaintop removal mining, the
Marcellus Shale drilling project also has the potential to become trans-state and affect a larger regional
populous. The shale formations underlie the Eastern seaboard, and natural gas deposits have been
discovered outside of Pennsylvania borders. Just as mountaintop removal mining takes place in four Central
Appalachian states, Marcellus Shale natural gas drilling could stretch through New York, Pennsylvania,
Delaware, Maryland, Virginia, and West Virginia.
Major cities have sought to limit the effects of drilling on its populations and surrounding environments. So
far, New York City and Pittsburgh have banned natural gas drilling within city limits. Other major
metropolitan areas banning drilling depends on a number of factors, such as resident and lawmaker
opposition to company demands and the production results of the current wells. Some citizens have

organized grassroots movements against the Marcellus
Shale drilling project, such as the Marcellus Shale Protest
and Catskills Mountainkeeper. Still, the search for natural
gas remains primarily in Pennsylvania. Rural residents
have noticed that Marcellus Shale stations have been built
in their communities. Many of them have seen the gas
flares at night—perhaps the orange flame is a constant
reminder of the energy crisis.
Many regional citizens have made an earnest effort
expressing concerns, protesting energy companies and
government, and refusing the environmental destruction
caused by fossil fuel production practices. As well, federal organizations like the EPA have recently pursued
more strict enforcement of environmental protection laws. But the final decisions about energy production
and consumption often come down to the state and federal legislatures and the corporations which hold the
purse strings. Instead of funding large-scale alternative and sustainable energy projects, which are slated as
costly and having limited short-term returns, many politicians and corporatists seek more domestic
production of non-renewable resources. Those in power who support domestic production seek to make a
political and financial profit at the expense of the environment. Mountaintop removal has already left a
disastrous ecological legacy; natural gas drilling has the same potential. Accordingly, both mountaintop
removal mining for coal in Appalachia and drilling for natural gas in the Mid-Atlantic will continue and
exponentially grow with the lack of regulation. That is, unless citizens realize they have a say in determining
the outcome and demand in numbers to reverse or limit such production. Or, a state or federal organization
steps in and does its job, just as the EPA had done in West Virginia. Notwithstanding this ruling over a
catastrophic environmental injustice, to some Americans, fossil fuels are unfortunately a complacent solution
to the energy crisis until another one comes—when these resources eventually run out.

The 2010 Recreation and Parks Leadership Summit
--Lenny Long (LHU Recreation Management Professor)
This past fall, I was invited to join a select group of Commonwealth of Pennsylvania parks and recreation
professionals (100 in number) at a two-day Leadership Summit at Temple University in Philadelphia. The
summit was co-sponsored by the Department of Conservation and Natural Resources (DCNR) and the

Pennsylvania Recreation and Parks Society (PRPS), and its goal was to challenge this cross-sectional
representation of parks and recreation professionals to collectively assess and project what the next 10-15
years might necessitate in regards to the best practices for the citizens of Pennsylvania. Prior to the summit, a
17-question survey was sent to approximately 800 participants. The results from that survey allowed DCNR
and PRPS to narrow the focus of the Summit discussion to five critical challenges that currently face parks
and recreation providers. The five topics were: Green and Playful Community Parks: Reconnecting with
Nature and the Outdoors, Urban Park Trends, Developing Political Support for Recreation and Parks, Making
the Health and Recreation Connection, and Funding for Community Parks and Recreation.
Beyond the two full days of small group brainstorming and idea collaboration, we were fortunate to hear
from four highly respected leaders in the field. Both the current DCNR Director, John Quigley and the former
Director, Mike DiBerandinis, provided insight as to the state of the Commonwealth and the various
challenges we are facing as we move into the next decade. John Crompton (Professor, Texas A & M), shared
his research with Summit participants on the notion of “positioning” and how we must all continue to lobby
to elected officials and the general constituency that we represent in public parks and recreation. Finally,
Mickey Ferns, Associate Director of the National Park Service (pictured above), provided a very inspiring,
highly motivational presentation. The purpose of these various speakers was to stimulate this cross-section of
recreation leaders to apply their best thinking to the development of an action plan to help DCNR and PRPS
optimize the return on the investment of their resources. A select group of writers representing an
Allentown-based consulting firm spent the 2 days observing and interviewing summit attendees in an effort
to prepare a written report that will act as a platform for the proposed action plan.
In addition to the benefit of shared dialogue with this cross-section of professionals, the networking that
occurred was invaluable! I was able to exchange ideas about curriculum, internships, and all the additional
challenges we face in higher education with 5 colleagues from the other universities in the state that have a
Parks and Recreation program of study. Based on my quick interpretation of those conversations, it appears
that we are doing things very well here at LHU and our program is thriving in regards to numbers of majors,
job placement, and our continuing accreditation and affiliation with the National Recreation and Parks
Association.
A testament to our Recreation Management program at LHU was the fact that there were eight LHU
graduates invited to the Summit; a powerful affirmation that we are producing leaders in the field of Parks
and Recreation. The final report and ensuing action plan should be completed by spring 2011 and I would be
happy to share this final document with anyone.
Through Clear Windows

-- Reginald Pinckney (LHU English Major)
Roaring engines,
incessant purrs of
busy traffic,
anger-possessed people
screaming out windows
stained with damp soot
and smoke
till sun sets to dusk.
Power plants
on every corner
and bustling city people
enveloped by crimpled paper,
the emerald bill,
who see beauty
so high above all
that they are lost
in wet, muggy darkness,
the clear glass
now a mirror,
a reflected
shadowed
past.
But in Pennsylvania,
along the central plains
near Danville and Lock Haven,
where fields of corn stretch further
than waves of cerulean,
where rivers extend further
than clouds of black,
like great Susquehanna,
beyond distant memories

of broken screens
leaky roofs
filthy dishes
and soiled glass,
where rain flows
like a constant downpour of change
onto those grimy windows
washing away scum
to reveal the great expanses
of autumn trees
and painted leaves
that extend beyond city limits,
where books lie open
with time to spare
reading each one,
and Texas Restaurants sit
with open country doors,
and inside
happy faced people,
who never stare
with blinking eyes
of judgment,
see you
through clear
stainless
glass.
Water-Quality Monitoring Races Natural-Gas Development
--Dr. Md. Khalequzzaman (LHU Geology Professor) and Dr. John H. Way (LHU Emeritus Geology
Professor)
Colder temperatures have not chilled the pace of development in the Marcellus Shale “play.” The industry is
operating in full winter mode in Pennsylvania and neighboring states. And, as hunters and winter enthusiasts

will attest, the same can be said for operations here in Clinton County.
Over the last five years, the Department of Environmental Protection (DEP) has issued a total of 5,685 permits
for Marcellus Shale well drilling in the commonwealth. In Clinton County 45 wells have already been drilled
in 2009 and 2010. Although in the eyes of many extraction of these natural gas resources promises to rekindle
economic opportunity and prosperity, others express grave concerns for human health and the natural
environment.
Obviously, the issues surrounding all aspects of Marcellus natural gas production are complex. This region
has experienced a long history of environmental degradation and cultural disruption related to resource
exploitation. Millions of dollars and countless hours have been devoted to righting the wrongs of the past.
Today, at the beginning of this new period of fossil fuel extraction, citizens are asking questions and
expecting accurate information and focused, objective analyses.
As the natural gas industry increases its activities in Pennsylvania, there is considerable public debate over
the impact these efforts will have on the environment. The focus of much of the concern centers on water use;
the composition and management of the fracing, flowback, and production fluids; and the potential
impairment of natural and ground water systems.
Unconventional fossil-fuel sources, specifically tight, gas-rich shale units such as the Marcellus Formation,
require special drilling, stimulation, and production techniques. In natural-gas resource extraction, large
volumes of fluids are involved in both the initial drilling phases and the hydraulic fracturing (fracing)
operations. For a period of about 30 days following fracing, flowback fluids comprise varying percentages of
a menu of spent fracing chemicals and brines. The brines, rich in bromine, calcium, chlorine, sodium,
strontium, and magnesium, occur naturally at depth and are produced in virtually every gas well in the
commonwealth. Once the well transitions into the production phase, chemically active fluids continue to be
generated throughout the life of the well.
Accidents or the mismanagement of any fluids involved in these operations have the potential to threaten
surface and ground-water quality throughout the river and stream basins impacted by natural-gas
production. After-the-fact remediation or cleanup following a spill will require considerable resources. And,
the long-term impact could be extensive and long-lasting.

Recognizing that governmental agencies charged with
environmental oversight have limited resources, individuals and
watchdog groups are stepping forward to take action. Not only
do these additional eyes and ears on the ground provide
important field surveillance assistance, but individuals trained to
use basic monitoring equipment can generate valuable
preliminary water-quality data. Establishing these benchmark
data document the status of water quality prior to drilling. Any
subsequent changes in the test parameters raise red flags and
signal the need for immediate, more intensive data collection and
analyses.
Early in 2010, representatives from Lock Haven University’s Geology program, the Centre County Chapter of
Pennsylvania Senior Environmental Corps, the Centre County Conservation District, and the Beech Creek
Watershed Association forged a partnership to establish a baseline water-quality-monitoring program in the
Beech Creek watershed in Centre and Clinton counties. This program’s goals are twofold: (1) to identify
streams where Marcellus Shale gas wells are located and find sampling sites upstream and downstream of
those deep wells; and (2) collect monthly field data and water samples for laboratory analyses from each of
these sites in order to generate water-quality baseline data for each of these streams.
A total of 12 sites meeting these criteria were selected. Recognizing that this watershed is heavily impacted by
abandoned mine drainage (AMD), chemical parameters were selected that would indicate any impact to the
water quality by fracing or flowback fluids from Marcellus Shale gas production. Along with assessing visual
conditions of the streams and their watersheds, field data included: temperature, pH, total dissolved solids
(TDS), conductance, oxidation-reduction potential (ORP), dissolved oxygen (DO), and flow rate. Laboratory
testing yielded total suspended solids (TSS), barium, total iron, manganese, aluminum, calcium, magnesium,
copper, arsenic, chloride, and sulfate data. This study was conducted from May 2010 to November 2010.
Preliminary results indicate no apparent adverse impact on water quality in streams sampled during this
study. Clearly, this was a modest attempt to assess water quality throughout this basin. However, the
prospects for additional funding to continue and expand this monitoring project appear bright. Currently,
planning is underway to increase the number of sample sites, add parameters to the list, and solicit and train
more volunteers. We encourage interested individuals, groups, and organizations to contact us for further
information about this program. If you're interested in serving as a volunteer monitor and collaborator,
contact Dr. Khalequzzaman for more information.

City Winter
--Zach Fishel (LHU English Alum)
She treads lightly on the cracked sidewalk,
like she has been a dancer her whole life.
I lumber along,
an old country mountain bear in the midst
of urbanized disco balls and advertisements with more
motion that any of the corn fields at home.
I choke on the air,
motor exhaust mingles with the snowflakes that cling
to my mustache,
I sigh relief.
I still feel it.
The life that comes in a flurry,
the bitterness of real cold winds and mountain pines
as they whisper the promises of
enough wood to make it to the spring.
I can roll that scent in my mind
and begin the rolling tongues of sharing barleywine with my friends.
The cars suddenly become
snowmobiles
and skiers racing through the cross-country backwoods.
I miss my home,
where the elevation creates minor booms and squalls,
like horns when someone is cutting into the wrong
lane.
The concrete is never going to feel the same as
walking a frozen pond to ice fish,
or skate.
Instead I get to see the Creche,
with a bamboo border and wise men of every color.
The white baby Jesus with the melancholic
forte that can only be hymnal caroling.
The red and green streetlights are in the spirit to be jolly though.

The Plug-in Electric Hybrid – Pay Now or Pay at the Pump
--Loretta D. Dickson (LHU Geology Professor) and Joseph K. Hoy (LHU Geology Major)
Many factors influence a consumer’s decision to purchase an
automobile. One consumer may focus on style and class, and another
may think only about cost and safety, but with better understanding
of the human impact on the environment, many consumers look for
fuel efficiency as a way of reducing one’s carbon
footprint. Fluctuating gasoline prices and the negative environmental
impact of CO2 emissions from burning fossil fuels make many drivers
long for an electric car. Just imagine plugging your car into the wall of
your garage, or thumbing your nose as you drive past a gas
station. The electric-powered automobile promises to be the blissful future of personal transportation.
The 2010 North American International Auto Show in Detroit introduced several partial- to zero-emission
automobiles to consumers. General Motors (GM) unveiled the much-anticipated Chevrolet Volt, a plug-in
hybrid that operates in an electric-only mode for about 40 miles before the gasoline-powered motor kicks
in. With the battery depleted, one tank of gasoline will take you an additional 300 miles, making the Volt one
of the most contemporary fuel-efficient cars on the market today. Investing in a new plug-in hybrid or allelectric automobile when oil prices are predicted to rise makes sense, but will it save you money? A survey of
the Manufacturer’s Suggested Retail Price (MSRP) of several new models indicates that you may be paying
more to “go green.”
Calculations performed by Lock Haven University students in their Geology of Energy and Mineral
Resources class show the savings from purchasing a traditional gasoline-powered automobile rather than the
new plug-in electric hybrid. After selecting two highly-ranked cars from U.S.News Best Cars, the students
calculated the cost to own and operate two automobiles from the upscale midsize car division. The 2011
Chevrolet Volt (ranked 3rd) with its 74 miles per gallon equivalent has a MSRP of $40,280, and qualifies for
the $7,500 federal tax credit. The 2011 Buick Regal (ranked 2nd) with an estimated 23 miles per gallon in
combined driving has a MSRP of $26,245.
The students assumed a 40-mile round-trip commute for a 260-day business year. The Volt is driven in
electric-only mode for the duration of the commute, and then its16-kilowatt-hour (KWH) lithium-ion battery

pack is recharged every night using a standard 120-volt outlet. Electricity is assumed to cost $0.144 per KWH,
and one gallon of gasoline will cost $3.19. The results show that after one year, the Volt driver would have
spent $5,512 more than the Regal driver. Even after five years, the Regal driver has still saved $1,419, but
these savings are due entirely to the high retail price of the Volt.
The above calculations are based on the unrealistic assumption that fuel prices will remain in the $3 range. A
January issue of Newsweek states that gasoline prices are up 76% since 2008 and are predicted by former Shell
Oil president John Hofmeister to reach $5 per gallon by 2012. Accounting for rising gasoline prices still does
not offset the high price of the Volt. Even if you assume paying $3 per gallon to fuel the Buick Regal in the
first year, $4 per gallon in the next year, $5 in the third year, and even $6 in the fourth year, calculations to
own and operate each car result in a disappointing wash.
Savings to the Earth’s atmosphere are an entirely different matter. CO2 emissions from simply driving the
Chevrolet Volt in electric-only mode are nil, however, the burning of coal, oil, or natural gas to generate the
electricity needed to recharge the Volt’s battery pack still delivers a fair amount. According to the Energy
Information Administration (EIA), every KWH of electricity generated in the U.S. results in approximately
1.35 pounds of CO2 released to the atmosphere. Generating enough electricity to power the Volt’s battery,
using the above commuting scenario, results in the release of about 2 tons of CO2 per year. The Buick Regal
emits 2.2 times more CO2 than the Volt.
Cutting the CO2 emissions in half, the convenience of simply “plugging in,” and the overall fuel efficiency of
the Chevrolet Volt may be worth the extra money in the long run to many drivers, especially if they plan to
drive the Volt for more than 5 years. GM chief executive officer Dan Akerson plans to boost sales of the
Chevrolet Volt by doubling production. The higher output is anticipated to lower the cost of the automobile
in future years. Lock Haven University students say they would like to have the new plug-in hybrid, but
they will most likely have to wait until the retail price is greatly reduced. Those consumers who don’t mind
paying more now, rather than paying at the pump later, will be leading the way toward a greener world by
investing in this new technology.

Plain Old Use
--Mark A. Smith (LHU English Professor)

This week I had to mend my winter gloves again. A seam along one of the
fingers split open, revealing the knit-wool lining within. As I sewed it back up I
tried to remember just how old the gloves were and what their origin was. A gift
perhaps, but I no longer remember the details. I know this, however: I have
evidently repaired these gloves thirteen times now. They have acquired a long
history of use and I think they truly fit me now, and in more ways than one.
My all-time favorite winter coat is a heavy, bombproof thing made of pebblegrained black leather that is now so worn out I generally use it only for winter
chores and shoveling snow. It comes by its “distressed” look naturally, through
plain old use. Its curious history began in New York City, the property of a man
I never knew who divorced his wife. When the couple separated he left the coat
behind and the ex-wife asked my sister if my brother-in-law could use it. He
tried it and didn’t care for it I guess, so he offered to my dad. My dad, who is not really a black-leatherwearing kind of guy, finally offered it to me. At the time I was a grad-student and couldn’t afford to be picky
so I wore it all winter, every winter for a few years until the zipper finally gave out. Then I sewed a new one
in, 23” in length. I remember the length of the zipper because I remember the length of time—hours in fact—
that it took to sew it in by hand. Since then the coat’s been good for another decade or so, although as I said I
don’t wear it much in public anymore. It would probably draw some puzzled stares, maybe some looks of
pity.
I have always enjoyed the fact that time and memories become entwined with the objects we return to and
value. Just this morning I was out shoveling another two inch “nuisance snow,” as the TV forecasters have
begun calling it, and my mind wandered back to various times and places where I wore the coat and gloves. I
remembered ice skating on a winter pond and stopping to peer through the ice at a hibernating snapping
turtle. Its stony stare was utterly primordial. And I remembered walking up Bald Eagle Mountain in the
midst of near-blizzard conditions just to see what nature can dish out under such circumstances. The snow
was deep and drifting. The wind was brutally cold, just roaring up the mountainside, but this heavy leather
coat is utterly impervious to wind and just shrugged it off. As I neared the summit a ruffed grouse shot out of
the snow at my feet and I marveled at the fortitude of the bird, the fact that it chose just about the worst, most

windswept spot on the mountain to dig in and slumber. On another winter day, this one crisp, cloudless, and
sunny, I walked up there and just sat on a rock on the leeward side of the crest, out of the wind. The black
leather soaked up the rays until I was positively toasty, cozy, inside. I gazed across the folds of Bald Eagle
Mountain, enjoying the bright spark and clarity of winter, musing about who knows what.
My thrift, my desire to repair and make do, began years ago when I was a poor student (I remember, long ago
as a penniless undergrad, throwing my coat and bunches of clothes on the bed to serve as blankets every
night). My thrift continues now, however, because it’s better for the planet—less wear and tear, less carbon,
less waste for the landfill. And an even deeper motive is at work: I truly enjoy making do—reducing, reusing,
recycling, and repairing. It has become a kind of lifestyle for me and something of a game, as if I am, at least
in simple ways, outwitting capitalism and the forces of growth everywhere. When I make do I feel
independent, self-reliant, in control. I have, in fact, been accused of being smug about it. But thrift is also a
satisfying and creative exercise of the imagination. In her excellent book, Waste and Want: A Social History of
Trash, historian Susan Strasser notes that “mending and restoring objects often requires even more creativity
than original production.” I enjoy improvising with the materials on hand, making old things serve in new
contexts, what the anthropologist Claude Lévi-Strauss described as engaging “in a sort of dialogue with the
toolbox and the junk box.” Over the years I have made furniture and birdfeeders from salvaged lumber. I
once made a bicycle repair stand out of a cast-iron telescope mount. This morning I fixed my wife’s umbrella
with a paper clip.
Close to half of my wardrobe comes from thrift stores (where else can you find a classic three-button
sportcoat made from the old, inimitable Harris tweed? I mean the old kind, before the weavers
“lightweighted” it for today’s overheated interiors). The black rotary phone in my study dates to 1958 and
works just fine. I found it maybe twenty-five years ago while walking to work down an alley in Columbus,
Ohio—put out for the trash. I recently replaced a thirty-one year old kitchen radio (the AM band gave out
years ago) with an audiophile-quality receiver that I found at a thrift store. A huge improvement in sound
and all for twenty bucks. The old radio now sits on the workbench in the garage awaiting a warm-weather
project.
As these examples suggest I am in fact an intensely materialistic person and deeply attached to my
possessions. I value them, take care of them, repair them when I can. I value that fifty-three year old phone
for its heft, its obvious quality, and its longevity, compared to which the average cell phone strikes me as a
short-lived piece of junk. Strasser writes of “the stewardship of objects” that prevailed before the rise of the
modern consumer society. Material objects were cared for because they were costly, and a pattern of use,
reuse, repair and recycling emerged that was so efficient—right down to rags and bones—that, as Strasser
notes, “most Americans produced little trash before the twentieth century.” Viewed this way, the issue of

thrift takes on a moral urgency that in my opinion simply overwhelms the opposing requirements of
corporate capitalism with its “grow or die” assumptions. In a sense we owe it to ourselves, our society, our
planet and posterity, to learn how to make do with less. So I’m an ardent materialist but perhaps not a dutiful
consumer. I value things for their simplicity, their reliability, their repairability, their freedom from batteries
and microchips.
Does all this add up to—how should I put it?—a somewhat motley appearance in my daily life? Yes, in some
respects at least. In her book, The Overspent American: Why We Want What We Don’t Need, Juliet Schor
describes what consumer researchers call the “Diderot effect,” after the French philosopher Denis Diderot. It
seems Diderot received a sumptuous scarlet dressing gown as a gift, and quickly discarded his old one. But
while sitting in his study, he became acutely aware of the contrast between the new robe and the general
shabbiness of the threadbare tapestries and old furnishings surrounding him. And so, item by item, he
upgraded his furnishings to match the gown. But Diderot grew increasingly dissatisfied with the tyranny of
these luxurious upgrades, and eventually missed his former “harmonious indigence.” In his essay, “Regrets
on Parting with My Old Dressing Gown,” Diderot laments the “imperious scarlet robe [that] forced
everything else to conform with its own elegant tone.”
That’s the way it is with me these days. I’m leery of all upgrades that might spark the Diderot effect. I’ll stick
with the old, the tried and true, the durable, the richly patinated. The definition of “patina” includes this: “an
appearance or aura that is derived from association, habit, or established character.” Who wouldn’t prefer to
be surrounded by objects with luminous auras and deep associations rather than a sterile, ahistorical
newness? For me it is often the case that the newer an object is, the less real it seems to me, the less value I can
place on it. So I’ll get these old gloves through another winter. I’ll stick with the worn leather coat. They are,
after all the years, an integral part of my winter life and carry associations and auras enough to charm even
the drudgery of shoveling snow.
Thou Wanderer Thro' the Woods, How Often Has My Spirit Turned to Thee!
--Adam Russo (LHU English Major)
Whether a man nearly twenty two years of age is forced to ponder these questions, or whether the time of
year forces one underneath the subtle tones of a desk lamp for too long, I am not sure. I suppose it could also
be both, because the more and more I think about why my mind is racing at a million miles per hour, the
more and more I understand that I am at a huge transition in my life—a transition where I must make
decisions, live inside those decisions, and let that path take me wherever it wants to.

The questions are, in the simplest definition, a matter of faith. Is it normal for a man my age to believe,
essentially, that what makes us up is purely coincidental? Or should I hold on tight to something deep inside
me that screams for meaning within this world, universe, or eleventh dimension? And I don’t mention the
eleventh dimension for needed humor in a discussion like this; the concept is to blame for what has been
scrambling my thoughts for the last couple of days.
Ever hear of M-theory? If not, it’s worth sitting down, downing a glass of wine, and preparing yourself for
some scientific philosophy, for M-theory, if mutually accepted in the physics community (and it’s getting
closer and closer), holds the power to create a paradigm shift not seen since Copernicus proved the sun was
the center of our Solar System. And yes, the theory leaves even less room for the humanist.
I came across the theory while researching for a science-seminar class, and though I’m naturally inclined to
place my head in the clouds from time to time, the topic has saturated my thoughts with the daunting task of
trying to find meaning with the realm of eternity. Relativity and quantum mechanics have long presented
problems with each other—the popular analogy describes two hands, two completely different sides of the
brain, working independently. But the study of subatomic particles and the universe as a whole may have
finally come to a bridge. A cold, dark, secluded bridge. As the first string theories longed to conjoin the two
spectrums of physics, the early considerations failed when too many mathematical errors, mainly centered on
the very beginnings of the big bang, created gaps in the theory. What came next was M-theory, which was
proposed in the mid-1990s when scientists started finding dualities between a total of five string theories. But
brace yourself; this is where the confusing parts start.
The original string theory argued that a total of ten dimensions existed within our known universe, most of
which lie in a subatomic level. When the fundamental particles, quarks being just some of the total, were
broken down, the only material that accounted for everything we know of were, in fact, strings (or little loops
of energy). Thus, as these strings of energy oscillate, they swing in ten different dimensions (picture holding
a string and swinging it front and back and side to side—you’ve made the third dimension). But again, the
theory broke down while going back to the singularity, the very beginning of our universe. The theories
started to completely collapse, that is, until the singularity was simply removed. Therefore, an eleventh
dimension was created.
According to the M-theory (Membrane theory), an eleventh dimension exists outside of our known universe,
and what makes up the dimension is a sort of membrane. Yes, as always, anomalies pop up within the theory
as a whole, but as more and more contemporary physicists jump at the idea, there is no reason to doubt the
existence of an infinite amount of universes, where a simple ripple in the membrane can spontaneously create
a new universe. Creations, not creation, in the midst of chaos.

I know, to the skeptic this all seems like a bunch of science-fiction hogwash. But what happens to the skeptic
when math proves there is something outside of the singularity, something chaotic, like bubbles rolling
through an infinite ocean? Well, undoubtedly, there is a paradigm shift, or in other words, the personal god
is statistically shot out the window.
At this point, you may wonder if this topic has anything to do with environmentalism and the central
Pennsylvania woods. In a world where logic and science increasingly devalue human significance, I am in
constant search of something that gives me the ability to feel harmony, if not the slightest sense of
importance. I’ve found this “oneness” in but one place (that is, apart from my family and significant other
whom treasure my existence), and that place is the woods surrounding our university. When I hear the
crunch of leaves and snow beneath my boots, or when I stand upon some of the oldest mountains in the
world, and breathe in the crisp air of late January, something inside of me buzzes to the eternal melody of
nature. These woods give life. These woods show us God, or what lies outside of our conceivable eleventh
dimension, our sciences, and our mathematics. Who knows, maybe God still holds us in his hands.
[The above image is a painting by Farid de La Ossa Arrieta from the website
http://dlibrary.acu.edu.au/research/theology/ejournal/aejt_4/farid.htm].

Hike of the Month: The Mid-State Trail from Woolrich to Big Springs Road
--Bob Myers (LHU English Professor)

On a snowy Saturday in late January, with the temperature hovering in
the twenties, Elizabeth, our two friends, my dog Max, and I set out from
the Woolrich Outlet on a winter backpacking trip ( to get to the outlet,
take 220 north to the McElhattan exit and then follow the signs) . We
followed the orange blazes of the Mid-State Trail (MST) across Park
Avenue to Elementary Lane, which ends in a parking lot of a retirement
home. The MST then climbs through a short stretch of woods to Main
Street/Dutch Hollow Road. Almost immediately, the trail turns left and
crosses a private yard (you can ignore the "No Trespassing" sign, but
give the mowed yard to the right a wide berth). The trail finally leaves

civilization at a power line cut on the other side of the field.

This begins a long two-mile climb. With the snow, it took us about an hour to reach the top of the
plateau. Along the way, we passed through a relatively young beech forest, where Max kicked up a flock of
five grouse. Shortly after reaching to top, the trail drops into the ravine of a small unnamed tributary of
Chatham Run. We made our camp under the hemlocks and were soon warmed by a big fire.
The next morning, after a night in the teens, we followed the blazes a short distance up the stream to where
the MST crosses Big Spring Road. A sign indicated that we had hiked 6 km (3.72 miles) from
Woolrich. Turning right on the road, we left the MST, and followed Big Spring Road to Dutch Hollow
Road. Turning right on that road quickly brought us back to Woolrich, for a total of 7.8 miles. This trip
certainly could be done as a day hike, but with the snow, we felt pretty good about doing it as a overnighter. For maps of this hike, either pick up the MST Guide, or use the Tiadaghton State Forest map.
Environmental Focus Group
Bob Myers (Chair), Md. Khalequzzaman, Lenny Long, Jeff Walsh, Danielle Tolton, John Crossen, Clayton
Snyder, David White, Tom Ormond, Ralph Harnishfeger, Barrie Overton , Melinda Hodge, Melissa Becker,
Brad Daly, Kathy McQuaid, Janet Irons, Steve Guthrie, Sharon Stringer, Todd Nesbitt, Doug Wion, and Josh
Drouin. The committee is charged with promoting and supporting activities, experiences, and structures that
encourage students, faculty, and staff to develop a stronger sense of place for Lock Haven University and
central Pennsylvania. Such a sense of place involves a stewardship of natural resources (environmentalism),
meaningful outdoor experiences, and appreciation for the heritage of the region.