Across the valley and up the west ridge from the Yellow Springs village ruins there's this oddity. Before seeing it, I thought it was simply a stone tower standing in the woods. Simple enough?  Odd but simple. It's way more then that.

GPS Coordinates: N40 28.490 W76 40.500  

Here you can see a wall or foundation of sorts next to it. Coming out of the wall in various places and from behind the tower were old metal pipes of all sizes. Directly across from the tower (behind me in this photo) was a large sinkhole with another stone wall (collapsing) on the far end. All around us were sinkholes of various sizes, piles of coal and obvious signs of excavation.

From the link on the first page (scroll down to the Yellow Springs section) this operation is described as an Inclined Mine setup. The sinkhole was the opening to a nearly vertical mine shaft. To get the coal and toxic gasses out, they used a steam engine (a large one) mounted and maintained on this rock foundation. The steam engine used cables to pull carts out of the mine. A large cast iron pipe ran from the base of the chimney down into the mine (I have a picture of that too). As the steam engine ran and sent its exhaust gases up the tower (chimney), it created a draft on the pipe and drew the toxic fumes out of the mine.

It's really quite a puzzle. After so many years of decay only a few pieces are left. It won't be long and the tower will collapse too. 

I gave up around 7pm and went to bed.

Around 8pm the storm hit. Lightening, thunder and rain all at once. I had already started the night badly with chills (literally wearing everything I had wrapped tight in my mummy bag and shivering). The storm could only make it worse. I realized everything I was wearing was dry and clean except for my t-shirt. It was the one I had been wearing all day, but I had another one in my pack outside the tent. I jumped out and grabbed it before the rain got too heavy. With the clean dry t-shirt on, I slowly warmed up. Now there were other issues.

I would drift off to sleep for twenty minutes or so, then wake up freaking out. The lightening and thunder was nuts. The lightening was bright enough to light up everything. I could see the tent poles and tree limbs above me through the fabric. With every flash, I counted to see how close it was getting. Every time I expected the thunder to immediately follow and I be dead from a strike. Luckily it never got closer then a count to three, but I was awake for every flash to count. Between the ridges and through the valleys the thunder would rumble and echo for minutes on end. Before the first one would stop, another flash would hit and whole other series of rumbling echoes would ensue.

At home CJ doesn't like thunderstorms much. He runs and hides or sits at your feet and pants. I kept expecting him to freak out being so close to the action. When he got anxious, I expected Gretchen to do the same. This was only her second night in a tent. What would she do with everybody getting anxious? Neither of them did much of anything. They mostly laid there at opposite ends of the tent with there heads up waiting for it to pass.

Then it happened. Drip. Huh? Drip. Drip. The conversation about the durability of my twelve year old tent earlier that day came back to me. Drip Drip Drip. I turned on my light to see water was seeping through the tarp at the pole right over my head. The water would collect on the pole, then drip through the screen in the door onto my head. Great. Like I didn't have enough to worry about. I slid over a bit so it wasn't hitting me directly in the head. If it was leaking in one spot, how long would it take for another spot or more to start leaking? How long would it take for the dogs and me to get wet? How long would it take before I got cold again. All of this went on for about three hours. From 8 till 11 the lightening and thunder roared outside while the anxiety was roaring inside. Finally around 11 when the thunder quit, so did I. I drifted off to sleep and didn't wake much till 6am.

I remember waking up once. I stretched out and set my feet down on the floor of the tent (my sleeping pad is only 3/4 length). Immediately my heel felt wet. Half asleep I pulled my feet toward me, reached down into my sleeping bag and confirmed my heel was soaking wet. I put my feet back down, but not nearly as far and went back to sleep. In the morning I expected puddles throughout the tent, the dogs soaked, me soaked and all of us miserable. When I looked down toward the bottom of the tent where I soaked my foot and saw CJ sleeping contently, I realized all was fine (8 hours too late!). Apparently dogs make great sponges. We got up and had breakfast. Oddly enough Gretchen sat while she ate.   

If you look past Chris in the picture, you'll see what appears to be a more formal trail . 

That formal trail was an "Inclined Plane" that lead from the railroad bed up to at least the village area. An inclined plane is a fancy term for a path or road I guess. Basically it's a smoothed/constructed path/road they used to lower carts full of coal down to the railroad. Steam engines located at the top (with cables) or livestock were used to bring the carts and equipment back up.