Covered In Culm
Posted: Monday March 28, 2022
On satellite view the abundant anthracite strip-mines of Northeastern Pennsylvania appear like a giant scar across the Earth. The major cities significant of the Northern, Middle, and Southern coalfields are easy to spot, however an elaborate network of long abandoned underground mine workings remain below the surface, invisible to the eye. From Carbondale to Pottsville and everything in-between, cities and towns are literally built upon hollow ground. I've ventured into some of these forsaken chasms and man-made tunnels, but I've since come to the conclusion that a coal mine is no place for life of any kind. The black underground abyss significant of abandoned coal workings exist as a fascinating death trap to roam. Down below the Earth's surface, the air is toxic and the water orange, the stench of sulfur often permeates the nose, rising up through fissures in the ground which appear to extend infinitely into the core of the Earth.
While the environment down below is captivating and awe-inspiring, death is always lurking, manifesting itself in invisible ways. A sudden change of air can lead to an unfortunate death by suffocation. Or perhaps a wooden gangway gives-way, as I plummet into the darkness, seconds later engulfed by a splash of water as I crash into a flooded mine pit below, now subject to a life of treading water until I decide it's time to give up and die. Underground I find myself consumed by such anxious thoughts, it becomes difficult to enjoy the adventure. Yet the allure of the underground all too often grips my sense of curiosity and warps my rationality and better judgement, as I find myself yet again slipping beneath a rock and into a rabbit hole, perhaps never to emerge again.
Fortunately for my longevity, in recent years I've found myself becoming more fascinated with the surface again. Coal Country is an absolute wasteland of industrial relics. I consider myself lucky to have been able to explore the last of the two big coal breakers, yet there is still so much more to be discovered. While it's true many of the industrial giants have been toppled, numerous mechanical monsters still lurk rusting away in the barren coal fields. While searching for such elusive industrial behemoths I often find myself driving through small villages and towns outside of the staple coal belt cities. I began to notice many of these small towns were always quite literally covered in coal dust; I'd park my car to wander around the woods looking for an old steam shovel only to return hours after to find my vehicle covered with a dusting of this grey sooty material. It was as if a volcano had erupted nearby scattering a smattering of fine grime.
This would happen time and time again whenever I ventured out into the barrows of Coal Country, leaving me a bit perplexed until one day I realized the issue was piled sky high, directly in front of me. Coal Country is covered in culm! Literal mountains of coal waste discarded from past mining operations. This powdery coal refuse byproduct is largely worthless and as a result has been dumped into massive piles often times rising a couple hundred feeling into the sky and spanning numerous acres. The loose silty material is easily carried by the wind and is not very productive for vegetative growth, leaving the piles to exists as barren wind eroded coal mounds. Once I noticed these culm piles, I began to realize that they're nearly everywhere in Coal Country. Many of these coal dumps are so massive, they create an overlook over the town.
Naturally, I found myself exploring and photographing these artificial mountains. It seems their primary use these days are as a hangout for dirt bike riders and ATVs. Summiting a load of culm is similar to climbing a mountain of sand; for each step forward, you slide about ten feet back down the slope. However, upon reading the top of these mountains, one truly enters into different world. It feels like you are on the moon, surrounded by a completely dead, alien landscape, a lifeless black and white world where the occasional empty cardboard case from a 30-pack of Coors Light is the only remnant of human detritus. When the wind gusts across the treeless culm mounds, one can literally watch as the loose sooty aggregate is picked up by the breeze and deposited across the town below. An environmental absurdity and perhaps emergency, as I can't imagine its healthy to regularly swallow culm. There has to be hundreds of these culm mountains scattered all across Coal Country, it's as if they're a natural part of the landscape, no one who lives here bats and eye.
Descending these unnatural mountains is a bit more fun, for you just slide down and let gravity do the rest. Unfortunately, you'll often wind up with a bit of culm in your pants and shoes, but its no big deal. Just be sure to cover your mouth and close your eyes, for a mouth full of culm is not a pleasant surprise. Worst case scenario, you faceplate and find yourself with a face covered in culm, which can easily be wiped away with a rag or tissue. It becomes a bit more problematic when the culm gets in your hair for you really need to shower to truly wash it all away. Yet out in coal country this is just a part of normal life it seems. Everyone eats and breathes culm whether they realize it or not. People are covered in culm and so are their kids, their pets, their cars. They track culm into their houses and bring culm to work, I suspect some may even have culm in their beds, yet so long as no one complains the culm remains.
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