Pittsburgh: Impressions*

*There will be quite a few Pittsburgh posts in the next few days, and about more specific events. Like the so awesome swing dance. And the amazing random Mexican food restaurant we found and the great company that we went there with. And the joy of having good friends. 

The absolute first thing I noticed about Pittsburgh was its bridges. How could one not? Downtown Pittsburgh takes up a hilly wedge of earth bounded on the north by the Alleghany River and on the south by the Monongahela River. They meet at a point to become the Ohio River and that's where Pittsburgh started, so of course there are dozens of bridges. As a desert kid, even though I grew up on a river, I've never associated bridges with water. Mostly just with dirt. So imagine my delight, as Sara drove us through a hillside tunnel into the city, when the sparkling lights of dozens of bridges appeared, reflecting in a golden shimmer on all that water.

The second thing I noticed was not the cold weather or the bluff hills, but the runners. Let me preface this by saying that during my stay, Pittsburgh was enjoying a spat of warm (ish) weather. The highs were in the 50s, still pretty damn cold to my thin Tucson blood, but apparently, a welcome respite from the below-freezing temperatures the Yinzers had been experiencing. Our first morning, I bundled up in my fleece, my (borrowed) down parka, and topped the whole thing off with a rain shell to keep out the wind. It became clear after only a few moments that I was monumentally overdressed. Not for myself. I was toasty and warm in my layers, but not too warm, as the breeze was brisk enough to keep my cheeks cool. Perfect. But apparently not to the acclimatized runners of the 'Spurgh. The first couple of runners seemed underdressed to me, but not to a wholly unreasonable degree. Running tights, hats, big fluffy socks. And, you know, they were running after all. But after I saw not one, but quite a few of them jogging nonchalantly down the icy streets in shorts and t-shirts, with nary a thought to the cold wind smacking at my ears, well, I felt like a stranger in a strange land. Cold is weird. So are people who run in it. 

My other impressions of Pittsburgh were fleeting, but I loved all the brick buildings and the (neo?) gothic Presbyterian churches everywhere. The roads were winding and there were little shops everywhere, mostly because I don't think there was room for the sprawling shopping centers I'm more familiar with out west. We traipsed around Lawrenceville, The Strip, Shadyside, the Southside, Oakland, and just sort of soaked in the city. Saturday, my last full day in town, we saw all of it laid out in front of us from Mt. Washington. When walking wasn't really an option (seriously, the wind was killer), we'd hop on the bus and watch the city go by, alongside the regular (non-tourist) folks.

Those folks were all friendly and welcoming and seemed genuinely interested in starting a conversation. Mostly they talked about Pittsburgh and with so much enthusiasm that you couldn't help but feel that way too.  I never really felt like a tourist, except for my insistence on wearing my puffy parky everywhere. And that was really cool. Well done, Pittsburgh, well done.