Saturday, September 21, 2013

ISO More Americana





Sept. 1
We left the Dutch in the morning, pausing for a moment to get a shot of the horses in the field down the road and the stone house behind them. I didn’t get any of it very well. This is here just for the record:

The house doesn't really lean like that. I was balancing the camera on the frame of the car window. It must not have been level.
We went to Harrisburg and picked up U.S. 322 West, which took us to Clearfield.
First stop on the way was a little town, a few blocks wide and maybe a mile long, called Dauphin, like the bad guy in Henry VI, Part I. Only Shakespeare spelled it “Dolphin.” The reason to leave the highway there is that the Susquehanna broadens into a shallow lake full of little islands, some of them just stones above the current.
I think all the miniatures yesterday at Roadside America infected my brain. I took one look at the rocks in the river and all I could see was a reproduction in miniature of the St. Laurence at the Thousand Islands.
But this one had something different. In the middle is a fairly prominent rock some feet above the water with a replica of the Statue of Liberty on it. Nobody’s gonna stop for that, right?
We tried to jockey our way up a hill to get an overview, but that failed when the road ended.
We drove around the little town and almost got back onto the highway. But we turned back and worked our way down to a small public space by the water. It may be an access for fisherman. But down a steep and narrow trail we found a rock to stand on.
I shot some video, which I hope will turn out all right. Today’s photo, though, is Joanna at the Thousand Islands of Pennsylvania.


We saw a large black butterfly, waved to some kayakers, watched a train across the river.
Next stop was Little Buffalo State Park. We climbed steps to the top of an earth dam. Not as many steps as climbing to see the Big Buddha on Lantau Island, but enough. A group went up a few minutes before we did, and they carried a bicycle. I was appropriately humbled.
On top there is a gravel road that goes around the reservoir, and there were some other bikes up there, but most of them probably came up the gentle rise from the parking lot by the boat slip.
Anyhow, it wasn’t too bad, so we climbed a few more stairs to a trail that followed the hillside. These steps, a plaque told us, were built in the 1990s as an Eagle Scout project by Troop 92. Scouts built some steps outside the Crockett Tavern Museum in Morristown, Tenn., if I remember right.
There may be more steps built by Scouts. I will try to note any steps that I see in the future that were built by Scouts — Boy, Cub, Girl, U.S. Cavalry, Talent, or any other kinds.
On the road above the reservoir we came to a dead tree with the bark peeled off the trunk from the root to about 5 or 6 feet above the ground. It was clawed off, not peeled or carved with a tool. I immediately thought of a black bear. Maybe it was a lion. Could be just some kid with hellacious fingernails, but I doubt it.

The park contains a covered bridge that used to span the Little Buffalo Creek not far away. The original was moved to the site and at some time a few years ago collapsed under a load of ice and snow. It appears that the remade bridge is not a replica, but uses many of the original materials.
As usual, there were numerous mud wasps’ nests in the rafters.
A short walk from the bridge is Shoaff’s Mill. It is powered by an overshot water wheel and was commercially active until the 1940s. The family sold the mill to the state, but still lives in the old house across the road.
Joanna has developed a taste for waffles made at roadside establishments — the Waffle House, the Columbus Diner, and JP’s Pancake House. 

We got off the exit for the Pancake House and didn’t know which way to go, so we guessed wrong, but what was OK. 

We wound up on a road with a sign warning about buggy traffic. OK, pancakes can wait.
We wandered around some back roads but the only buggy we saw was parked in a yard near a pickup truck. Not very traditional. We were looking for houses that weren’t connected to the electricity lines. After a few turns, we came to the end of Trower Road and agreed that it was time to backtrack.
We started back and then took another detour to see the Mennonite Church. This brought us past the intersection with Trower Road, where we turned around before.
We found the church, but everybody had left by this time — maybe a little after one. So we went past that and down a narrow road between cornfields. We have all read Stephen King’s “Children of the Corn,” so you know I was on the lookout for kids in black.
Two buggies passed us going the opposite way. It seemed to be one family, Mom and Pop with two daughters in the covered buggy, and the adolescent son by himself in the buggy with the top down. Wow, this is what we were looking for, to get stuck doing 10 miles an hour behind a couple of horses.
I turned around at the next intersection and without pushing hard caught up to the buggies in a little while. It was interesting to follow them. When horses trot  about 15 mph or so, I’d guess they place their feet in a line, so the hoofs are clopping in and out. They may do that all the time, but I have never seen it from this perspective before. It’s very interesting to watch.
The wheels looked like they were wobbling on the carriages, but that may have been normal tolerance for parts made by hand.
We followed them home, as it turns out. They pulled into the driveway of the house on the corner of Trower Road.
We found JP’s by passing under U.S. 322. It was about 3 in the afternoon and time for some lunch.
Once we got to Clearfield, around 5, I missed the sign for the turn and we wound up about 6 miles out of town. We caught Pa. 879, the Clearfield-Shawville Highway, on the way back. Of course, I took it in the wrong direction and had to make a U-turn at the top of the mountain.
I also took a wrong turns a couple of times earlier in the day coming out of Little Buffalo State Park. But we did get to see a great Civil War memorial in New Bloomfield. I knew it was the wrong direction because this was the first Union soldier on an obelisk that I had seen all day.
These wrong turns were all very reassuring. After all, if you don’t get lost, you’re not traveling hard enough.
Denny’s Beer Barrel Pub has a sign outside that welcomes bikers but permits “absolutely no M.C. inside.” Could it be that the Pagans and Hells Angels had a row there at one time?
Some people wearing Harley shirts came in while we were there. A few bikes were parked outside when we arrived. Most of the bikers I’ve seen out here this weekend are gray. I take this as an indicator of excellent road safety.
Food safety is another matter. You have to order 72 hours in advance, but you can buy a 16-pound hamburger at Denny’s.
They have a series of challenges. They sell a 2-pound burger, and if you can eat it in an hour, along with all the go-withs, you get a T-shirt, a certificate, half price off, and your name on the wall. A guy named Regec finished one in 19 minutes. I wonder if he claws trees, or maybe wrestles bears (or lions) for exercise.
Anyhow, as I was saying, this violates the first rule of food safety, which is don’t eat anything bigger than your head.
There are larger challenges. A couple of the challenges require two people to polish off some astonishing quantity of ground beef in two or three hours.
With the really big ones, 50 and 96 ounces, the establishment doesn’t accept challenges at all. It’s probably too dangerous. They’re for parties.
I was thinking about it: 50 pounds of beef split among two dozen people leaves two pounds each. I couldn’t eat that much anything in a single sitting.
I had a 1/3 pound elk burger and that with the fries was all I could handle.
I had Otto’s red ale, of course. It is made in State College, Pa. We saw a sign for the brewery and pub when we passed through town earlier in the day.
It was the first red ale that I ever tasted. It still holds up, but green Flash Brewing Co.’s Hop Head Red IPA is probably better.
Elk Creek IPA, made in Milheim, Pa., seemed appropriate with an elk burger. It was OK. On reflection, I think my taste buds were off because everything, even the burger, seemed weaker than I expected.
Much of the food at Denny’s is fried. We ordered a side of green vegetables, but the closest we could get was deep-fried green beans. Joanna said they reminded her of hush puppies.
I had remarked to Joanna on Saturday that Haag’s Hotel in Shartlesville reminded me in some ways of the Three Bear Inn in Marathon, N.Y. It had a small barroom full of locals, and there was a similar shape and appearance to the town. It was in an old building by the highway and across the side street we could see the old outbuildings. A couple of them were garages that clearly used to be carriage houses. 
Denny’s, too, has something in common with Marathon and the Three Bear Inn. They have a bench carved with their own three black bears. On the wall behind it is part of the Honor Roll listing people who have finished oversize hamburgers in a specified time.

I tried to retrace my route from Denny’s to the hotel, and so got onto the Clearfield-Shawville Highway in the wrong direction again. So I did another possibly felonious U-turn and got us back to the Comfort Inn.
So far, so good. Can’t ask for better than that, right? 


Sept. 3
Hi!
Are you still on the road, or back at work?

Last e-mail dated Sept. 1.

Hope all is OK.

P.S  Is Joanna wearing your hat again, or did you get her one?
Larry

Sept. 4
I'm at the office now.

Joanna has a white straw hat, but the one in the photo is mine.

Sept. 2
Labor Day and cloudy. The trek was abbreviated today when we got chased out of bear country by approaching thunder.
The way back from Clearfield is practically a bee line. It’s about two-thirds of the way across Pennsylvania on I-80 from Clearfield to the Delaware Water Gap. Then about 60 more miles gets us to the neighborhood of home.
One of the things I had promised Joanna was a serving of some of the best chicken pot pie I have ever tasted. You can get it at the Village Farmer and Bakery on Broad Street in Delaware Water Gap, Pa.
The place has a concrete floor and a few tables in one corner, and a larger picnic area outside. The rest of the place is filled with long tables covered with pies—fruit pies, custard pies, pudding pies. The savory meat pies are refrigerated. They probably sell other stuff inside, but I didn’t notice.

They were selling hot dogs and farm produce outside on Labor Day.
So after we had chicken pot pie, we crossed the river through the Water Gap itself and parked near the trout stream by the trail. Very picturesque, of course, a falling stream, fallen trees, here and there some kids romping in the water. We climb up the hillside probably less than a quarter of a mile when the first peal comes rolling. Damn, it’s close and it sounds big, so we head back downhill.
The rain hit us a few times on the way back. Nothing too heavy, but enough that I was glad that I wasn’t standing in it.
We made it back home around five. Another great trip.

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