Coxton Falls

If you've ever travelled up Route 92 from Pittston to Falls, you passed right by Coxton Falls, but alas, it is on the other side of the river. To get to the falls, you need to work your way through Pittston, hang a left down through an underpass, and enter a world that is strange and beautiful. The road follows the east bank of the Susquehanna, passes directly under Campbell's Ledge, and...

...passes by this little falls. Little, that is, unless you happen to notice that it is nestled back off the road and perhaps deserves a closer look.

And yes, despite the grafitti, it is nice on this day after the rain.

Very nice indeed.

But then there is all that grafitti.

(More about that later.)

Crankopoulos shamed me into climbing up there. I had always gone the long way around, but what could I do?

"It's a class three climb," she says, as though she could do it in her sleep.

Up she went, and up I followed. It was easy, and it saves maybe ten minutes. It's now my regular route.

"Class three" indeed.

However you get there, it's quickly rewarding. That's the muddy Susquehanna in the foreground, swelled with the spring rains.

Looking upriver.

The stream that creates the falls is not all that impressive, but is quietly beautiful in its own way.

And oh, my, if you have time, do go on to the top. It's a climb, and it's "posted," but it's well worth the risk.

Here's an example of what you can do with a digital photograph and a liitle imagination. "Before" is on the left; "after," on the right.

One more time... "Before" on the left...

"After" on the right.

More of the stream, tumbling down from that lake I knew was there, but never tried to find until she dragged me up past all those "No Trespassing" signs..

One of these days, I'm going on up there and find Campbell's Ledge, posted or not.

We found the cache on the way down. I said, "Pick a nickname and sign the log book!"

"Hmmm... My rock-climbing friends call me 'Crankopoulos,' Greek for, "A pain in the neck."

"So be it."

Now back to that grafitti. The top of the falls is covered with it. We were astounded at the grafitti on that far ledge - How did they do that?

Drunk out of their minds, probably.

Normally, grafitti offends me almost as much as littering and ATVs. But there is much history here. Like cave paintings, perhaps...

Look carefully at the one on the left and you can find a dove from 1880 - a 19th century peace sign, perhaps. And Thos. E. Costello was here, and kept a perfect circle!

Billy Seaman stopped by in 1939.

And Lizzie was here, no doubt impressed by someone who imortalized her in stone.

J. Merritt's chisel worked a nice Roman typeface in 1879!

"A.J.C." was here in 1850, unless someone is pulling our leg, which I doubt. It was the earliest legible date I found. Think of it! 153 years ago!

And of course, Mike was here, in a more modern time, with less elegant tools. Not this Mike, I assure you!

The FCC was here, as was the YMCA - institutional presence.

G. A. Miller, on April 30, 1883, and someone with a seafaring connection.

Joe P., Mike and Marie, and Lee Ann.

Dave, "The Mad Hatter," another Mike (after TOM and little Tommy) and Pete, Joe and Walt stopped by in '35.

The Eastern Rail Fans organized right here on this spot on June 28, 1968, and

J.B. carved it deep in 1986.

So yes, the graffiti is unnerving, and yet fascinating.

I have been to this place a handful of times, and it is rapidly becoming one of my favorite stops. This photo-essay is a combination of three such stops, and I hope you enjoyed it. There is much more to be seen, but perhaps another time.

Continuing north along the river, one hangs a right at the little town of Ransom and meanders, like the rivier, through the incomparable scenery of the remote land behind those mountains the Valley Folk see every day.

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