Rides We Like: The Accidental School House Discovery
(2016) I’d love to say accidental, but when a schoolhouse is plopped at the end of a road called Yost School Road, I should question my common sense when saying I was surprised. Naturally I implore you to give me audience as to my shock. Take for example another local road, Center School Road. It took several trips down it before I realized the old schoolhouse had been converted to nearly unrecognizable stature. Sometimes even, the school was torn down, a victim of time or progress, and the only remaining memory is the road name.
It was a lucky find. For some reason there is a sector of roads ten miles from here that have not seen the tread of my tires. I found myself asking why that was so as I explored the area. I was treated to a couple sightings of animals even. One turkey crossed the road after I saw a chipmunk. Chipmunks are normally seen in the rockier areas of Ringing Rocks Park, but I was happy to see the little critter running to safety in the bushes. The final animal was the all too often deer. He saw me ride by, his rack a remarkable size already.
I also thought saw lush farm fields, benefiting from the recent heavy rains. The humidity is perfect for corn, which reflected in its height. Knee high by July they say, but now it’s full-grown before the first day of August. Along with corn fields there were signs of the County’s age. Leaning barns, forgotten corn cribs in the woods, or even a water pump used as a beetle bait holder all point to neglected time.
Strangely I came out to an intersection I recognized. I further realized I had made a note to explore the road I was currently on at a later date. It’s funny how things work like that sometimes.
The one structure I thought of over and over was the Yost School House. It was such a peaceful building in a peaceful field. After doing some research, not much information came forward about the school. Though the name Michael Jost constantly popped up. He seems to have come to Bucks County in the 1740s, following the migration of German immigrants from Philadelphia, through neighboring Montgomery County, and finally into Bucks County.
A local farmer by the name of Henry Keller (a nearby road is called Kellers Church Road) sold 150 acres to Michael Jost, which he worked until his death. It’s quite remarkable to read names of the past and connect them with names of the present. Interestingly enough, Michael Jost, who pledged allegiance to King George on his way over to the colonies, pledged allegiance against him when the Revolution broke out. How quickly things changed.
Strangely the roads seemed as peaceful today as I imagined they could have been 250 years ago. The humid weather kept the motorcycles from revving it up along nearby Lake Nockamixon. The major artery of 611 was just far enough to not be heard. And these roads, barely a car’s width wide, saw zero traffic except for the animals I told you about. A schoolhouse, quiet new roads, and squeezing in a couple more miles before the weekend wraps up is not a bad way to spend a Sunday evening.