Rain, rain, go away

Rain, rain, enough! But we understand that Pennsylvania needs it as badly as New England this year. Unfortunately, Little Red is not as waterproof as a car should be. After 15 years, the door moldings leak, and I forgot that had been a problem since rain has been so rare this past summer. We can even hear the drip as water drops fall on the cooler in the back just behind my head. But George Washington had it a lot worse when it poured all during the French attack on Fort Necessity. A Kleenex box solved our problem temporarily, and the weather should clear tomorrow. In the meantime, our hikes have been cut short by downpours off and on all day. Washington, on the other hand, faced the annihilation of half of his 400 men.
The only tourists at Fort Necessity National Battlefield, we watched the 25-minute educational film, amazed at the history we had missed along the way. I never knew George Washington made such serious tactical mistakes as a 22-year old. It started the French and Indian War when he accidentally signed a water-smudged surrender that stated he had murdered a French officer.
Our second stop, Christian W. Klay Winery in Chalk Hill, Pennsylvania, offered a refuge from the 11:00 a.m. drenching and lots of quality samples for tasting.
Washington's Tavern was closed, but we dashed around the old Georgian mansion in between raindrops. Luckily, our wind breakers only absorbed some of the water.
Braddock's grave was equally as drenched, but we ran out for a quick look at the final resting place of the British general who triggered Indian hatred of the British by addressing the American Indians as savages. Washington buried him in the middle of the road he was clearing for westward travel so the Indians couldn't desecrate his body.
Friendship Hill National Historic Site, the frontier home of Albert Gallatin, secretary of the treasury for 13 years in the late 1700's and early 1800's, would fascinate kids as well as adults. With free-standing staircases of 21 steps each and four or five additions between 1728 and 1902, the house is a fascinating assemblage of unusual architecture and significant U.S. historical influences. Gallatin wanted to balance the budget and reduce the national debt. He advocated for public education and argued against slavery. We need him today! The private tour was a treat, and our guide, superb.
Arriving in Morgantown, West Virginia, Andy checked in at the hotel desk wearing his Virginia Tech tee-shirt.
"I don't think it's a good idea to wear that around here," she said.
"I guess you are right," he answered, "but this is my $85,000 shirt, so I maintain a certain level of allegiance."
Los Mariachis won out over Chick Fil A for dinner. Yum! No arguments with that choice!

Munch lunch

The Johnstown Flood National Memorial offered a lesson in history I had not remembered. The South Fork Fishing and Hiking Club, a group of wealthy tycoons, was accused of causing the flood by not up-keeping the dam that held back the lake north of Johnstown. The flood killed 2,209 people, and that was only bodies recovered. The club claimed "Act of God" and lawyers absolved the group of all responsibility. The Museum and its 25-minute film provide a moving tribute to what happens when people cut corners and ignore warnings. Unbelievable! Andy actually fed me lunch two days in a row. The deal was light breakfast and no lunch. But yesterday we each had an apple, and today we shared one breakfast granola bar and one cranberry wine cooler, compliments of Tara's refrigerator. He wasn't kidding when he said I would lose weight.

Steinbeck commented about feeling like a turtle with his shell on his back as he drove in Rocinante, his converted truck. I can relate, but Little Red is a much smaller shell. Getting up this morning, Andy looked for his big blue comb. "Did you bring my favorite comb?" he wanted to know as he tore apart the cosmetic case.

"I brought everything you left on the counter in the bathroom. It's all packed in the cosmetic case," I told him, afraid I might have neglected the comb. "But did you bring the comb? Oh, good girl. here it is."

A pleasant surprise was the evening stop at Conemaugh Gap Scenic Overlook, west of Johnstown, that commemorated people who had died fighting in U.S. wars. The simple display of flags and flowers against the spectacular treed valley offered a peaceful respite after a busy day. We met a man who stopped on his way home from work to water the marigolds. I guess there are still true patriots who go beyond the norm and value more than the dollar.

Ricketts Glen

In spite of the drought in most of the Northeast, the waterfalls of Ricketts Glen were still spectacular. The steep trail wound along two converging steams that dropped into two beautiful gorges. Hiking meant picking our way over rocks and tree roots and crossing back and forth over the streams.

Andy recommends this park to all visitors who come to this area of Pennsylvania. Don't miss it! I kept a closer eye on my feet, trying to multitask with the camera, and hoping not to slip and fall and break another wrist.

Steamtown

Andy, already in job retraining, files the mail for the railroad. He wasn't qualified enough to shovel coal or polish engines.

Setting Out to See America

Feeling a little like teenage hippies, we hit the road at 8:45 a.m., heading to Scranton, Pennsylvania, and Steamtown National Historic Site.

Overloaded already, the car offered no room for the four extra outfits I had unobtrusively stuffed into the suitcase.

"I'm not piling things so high in the back that it blocks the window," declared Andy, and we didn't.

The last steam locomotive carrying passengers in this area dated back to 1960; that seemed late for such "outdated" technology to be operating. But the historic site is now home to 28 locomotives, most very impressive in size and restoration.

On to Ricketts Glen state park and the Falls Trail for hiking, a challenging loop walk that follows two converging streams that carved a gorge with 17 waterfalls.

Advantages to travel during the week in September: 1. Other than the two overturned semis with container boxes spewed all over the highway, the traffic moved steadily. 2. In Steamtown, only a father and son joined us in the 250-seat theater to watch the story of steam locomotives in America. 3. The gorgeous weather invited outdoor activity so our hike in Ricketts Glen provided spectacular views of the falls with almost no competition from other travelers.

Preparations

Sue and Andy leave on a coast-to-coast adventure.

And so preparations began: Like replacing all four tires on Little Red, checking the vehicle and making sure the 15-year old car could handle the stress, ordering medications that couldn’t be mailed to no mailing address, setting up a web site and learning about WiFi access, packing clothes for all kinds of weather, a variety of situations, and all in ONE suitcase. "Should we get quarters for laundry?" I asked. "No, but take detergent. And dryer sheets, I guess," Andy suggested. "How do we access money?" I wanted to know. "I'll learn how to use the ATM," Andy promised. "It’s about time," said the kids. "Can I take some books to read?" I asked. "Yes," said Andy, "One or two. You need to fit in a Saturn! What don't you get about “THERE IS NO ROOM IN A SATURN?” "How about my pillow?" I wanted to know. "FORGET IT!" he insisted. That's when I figured I had better cut down on the baggage.

The best laid plans...

Rocinante died. Well, almost. “What do you mean ‘the truck won’t make it’? It drives very well,” said Andy to the garage mechanic, after a mid-summer check of his Ford Ranger. “I know it has 189,000 miles, but it handles beautifully, and you replaced the clutch nine months ago. It doesn’t burn any oil, and it gets 23 miles to the gallon on the highway.” Andy figured that his 10-year old Ranger would be ready for the junk yard after our 15,000-mile trip, but it seemed such a shame to buy a new truck with the exact same gas mileage as his trusty Ranger. Often Andy commented, “The trucks today are a disgrace. Companies have done nothing in ten years to improve performance. I’d buy a new truck in a minute if they got better mileage than what I have now.” Unfortunately, that wasn’t to be. Andy had even planned to buy a cheap box cover and sleep in the back bed if circumstances dictated. That was the master plan after a couple months of checking out new vehicles. Enlightening discoveries: new trucks are either four-cylinder or eight-cylinder and bed covers for old trucks don’t come cheap. "Fours" wouldn't even make it up the mountains, and the "eights" would bankrupt us in gas. I telephoned local junk yards and used parts dealers for Ranger tops… unsuccessfully. “All I can tell you, Mr. B,” explained the garage mechanic, “is that this truck isn’t going to make it in my opinion. The gas line looks rusty, the muffler and tail pipe clamps are falling off, and the head gasket shows major wear. The Ranger will probably last you a year around here, but I wouldn’t trust the long distances. Rangers are notorious for dying around 200,000 miles, and you are getting close.”

“Okay, so what are we going to do now?” asked Andy as he walked in the back door. “I don’t really want to buy a new truck.”

“My Saturn?” I offered, immediately regretting the suggestion.

“Sure, that would work,” he jumped at the mention. And from that point on, Little Red was our vehicle of choice, and the decree of one suitcase per person became the law of travel preparation.