Pennsylvania

    A large rambling wooden unpainted structure, not a house, at Lycoming. Past Lycoming, 220 becomes a winding road with gentle ups and downs, more hills, wooded, mostly green, some muted dark yellows, large fields of dry corn on both sides of road, the Muncy Creek at Shrewsbury. [The protagonist of my novel Son, My Son lives in Shrewbury . . . Vermont.] The village of Tivoli--a simple Methodist Church with a small steeple. Picture Rocks, Pa. Regular houses, a purplish blue one, one dark green, a brick house, a house with a kind of tower on its front. US 220 merges with I-86 at 12:46, the temp 63, the sun out, cloudy to the north, plenty of clouds and plenty of blue. I get all twisted around, lost, frustrated, and irritated in Williamsport and decide to hell with it and start out 15S, planning to stop somewhere between Williamsport and Harrisburg. Over the Susquehanna into South Williamsport, fate strikes. I stop at a AAA on 15S for a Pennsylvania Tour Guide, where the woman suggested I check out their Pennsylvania flyers. One was for Elk County. Even though it was to the northwest and I was heading south, I was intrigued by it. So, after picking up a TripleBerry Julius at a nearby Dairy Queen, I turned around and headed back to 220N.
    220 was flat, in a valley with impressive rolling tall hills to the south, more behind them. Not technically an interstate, it was divided with 2 lanes in each direction and a median, but there were businesses and houses alongside and crossing roads instead of exits. The sky has cleared up quite a bit with a lot of fluffy cumulus, more blue than cloud. Past Jersey Shore, not a sign of a beach of ocean anywhere. To my left (south), a long ridge dropped off into a valley then a valley, up, back down to another valley another ridge.
    At 2:35 I left 220 for 120 W, through the center of Lock Haven, towers with rounded domes, a clock in one of them, the brick Congregational church with double spires, a levee off to right. At first it's a good road, 2 lanes each way, curving and rising and falling gently but soon becomes a somewhat scary road, one lane each way with rock cliffs to my left, a droopy to the West Branch of the Susquehanna River to my right with more mountains on the other side. It's really fine country, mountains and trees and a river, very very fine. The biggest problem is that I want to go slow and enjoy it but people come up behind me, no place to pass, and I have to speed up, not able to look around, until I can find a place to pull over. There are some vines with leaves that have turned red climbing trees and telephone poles. Up stream, there's mountain after mountain after mountain.

    The sky almost completely clear with some clouds, the sun shining brightly. The railroad now on the other side of dthe river. Entering Elk State Forest ("Be Careful With Fire") at 11:07. A railroad bridge puts the railroad back on our side of the river.
Picture before Driftwood.

    At 11:25, I leave Route 120 for Route 555 at the burrough of Driftwood. I have to wait for the train to go through the crossing. It goes north, I go west. Goodbye train. 555 is a 2-lane country road in good repair, between mountains, one of them pretty damn high. It ain't bad, friends, it ain't bad. The river or its tributary is to my left, a high wooded mountain to my left, mixed colors, haze in the high valleys, rocky cliffs ahead. 2 high mountain ranges, river between them.

    In a bit of a valley, the hills pull away a bit, the river still to the left, a wide plain to the right. I stop at Hicks Run. There are no elk (they usually only conme out at dusk and dawn) but there's an old cemetery, including the gravestone of a 2-year-old who died in 1888, someone else who died in 190- (the last numeral worn away). This is incredible country. If a picture is worth a thousand words, a thousand pictures couldn't capture the grandeur and beauty of this area. This is why I came here. Grants Pass. A valley between 2 high mountains, hazy mountains behind it in the pass, the river down below me. Oh, my.

    Trout Run. The Mountain Top Distillery. Medix Run. A long flat hill and more hills, over and over again. How can I possibly describe this? There are no words. At Wapiti Woods there are large cabins, holding 2, 4, 6 or more. I fantasize coming back in a couple of years with Burrie, Conga Bob, Bill McNally, others, and staying here a week or so, playing music alongside the river.
    At 12:43, I get on Route 255 at Weedvilles. This country is just too beautiful to leave so I head north, taking 948. There is more rust red in the trees, once completely rounded tree (an oak?) almost complety rust red. Still a lot of green though. Red Hill Summit of the Allegheny Mountainsm 2305 feet. Kersey--Guardian Angels Hall, Jehovah's Witnesses, Eagles Club. I seem to have left the interesting country behind me. There are so many different shades of red--a very dark almost brown red, the regular dark red, carmine or cherise, bright red very rare, the normal not that bright red, rust red, orange. 948 takes me to 219, which I take north to 949 but can't find it so I turn south, saying farewell to this beautiful country. I leave 219 for 28 just before the town of Conway and the Ensign Connie Esposito Bridge. Quite a stretch of oranges and reds, all the trees ablaze, across from a cemetery, the Take a Break Restaurant, where no one was taking a break. To 322 at 2:10 into one of those Pennsylvania hillside towns with millhouses going downhill to the center of town, two- and three-story brick buildings, thin windows with rounded tops like those in Dansville, a steeple with a clock. A Presbyterian church of large rectangular shaped stone, then back uphill.
    At 2:47, 70 degrees, I check into the Super 8 in Clarion with 5937 on the odometer. This is not your usual multi-level chain motel but a string of connected cabins, mine second from the end. No fridge or microwave, the phone and tv on a low bench with 2 drawers, a table with 2 chairs, a queen bed flanked by 2 small tables with an alarm at queen bed, an overhead light, 3 lamps, a small bathroom with an alcove outside it with a sink and a small flat area, hangers and a shelf.
    The phone didn't work. The manager couldn't find any other phones that worked. The wifi was extremely slow and unresponsive, which the manager blamed on 6 rooms full of kids ("Xboxers").
    So I drove down to Michele's Cafe. No open mike. Back to the motel. Went to Eat'n'Park--wedding soup and mulled cider for $7.34. Both pretty good. Bed at 11:00.