You come out of the Wissahickon suddenly, and the energy changes. Doesn’t matter if you are on foot, bike, or car. Hurry. Choose. Horns are honking. Is it Manayunk or Center City? Kelly Drive or City Line Avenue?
This is not a place for the indecisive. It is where old paths end and new one’s must be chosen. Bus passengers are disgorged on one side of Ridge Avenue and must scurry dangerously through traffic to the other side to pick up the next connection.
Exposed. Raw. Bright. The volume is suddenly turned to eleven. The monstrous rush of water over the dam contends with the equally monstrous rush of traffic and the stink of diesel.
A hundred yard from here, quietly and unnoticed, the Wissahickon dissolves itself into the Schuylkill.