Letter #1
Postmarked 31 Aug 2009 PM
Harrisburg, PA Howdy J and S – Well, here we sit on a mountain top just outside York, PA. Surely we should be farther along by now, but where’s the rush? Getting to Columbus in time to see Trout Fishing in America would be rather cool, but cest la vie. It’s the beginning of day three and we told you all that you probably wouldn’t see a letter yet because there wouldn’t be much to write about. Oh how very wrong we were! (Oh, and we started way late. Around 3pm) Dave’s derailleur malfunctioned at around mile 6 such that it caused us to need a bicycle shop immediately. We rode another very slow four miles until we found a bike line, and the tech woefully informed us that he needed to get a whole new wheel because the slipped chain had ruined too many spokes. Sigh. We had a lovely granola bar and juice break at the European market next door before we were off again. Because the timing worked out so well, Nathen’s mom met us along the way at a Dunkin Donuts in West Chester, where we hung out in the parking lot and played with the two kittens that she just so happened to have with her, as she was transporting them to a new home. Eventually, we said goodbye and carried on. We didn’t ride for very long this time because the road we were riding on was way, way too unsafe, even for us idiots. No lights, no shoulder, very windy with cars using their high-beams. We had no choice but to find somewhere to camp. We pulled over at the next giant field and went to the house attached to ask permission to camp. An elderly man answered the door and seemed skeptical, but agreed to let us as long as we stayed in the field. Well, he apparently had some fear to give into and called the police. Three cop cars pulled up and shined their lights on us. We froze, tent half-assembled, and handed over our ID’s when the biggest cop asked. Turns out they were pretty friendly guys and seemed genuinely interested in our trip. Apparently, they just wanted to make sure that we’re not axe murderers. We woke up the next morning and got a nice 9am start. Dave tends to be a bit faster than Nathen and usually rides about 200 feet ahead, which, early that day turned into a much bigger distance when Nathen had to stop and repack his gear. Some signs ahead warned us of a bridge out ahead and pointer us to a detour. Dave went all the way to the bridge to find a different detour while Nathen took the first posted one, assuming Dave had done the same. Dave’s detour seemed shorter, as he waited for Nathen at their next turn for quite some time. A friendly man with a street map and a zebra-striped pickup truck flagged Nathen down and asked if he needed help. They looked at the map and determined that they were still about five miles from Dave, and the friendly man gave Nathen a ride. We said our thanks, took a quick break, and off we were again. Somewhere between here and lunch, we found an extremely affectionate (and noisy) siamese cat who tried very hard to adopt us, but we told him that we just had to go, and he somberly accepted. We stopped for lunch at a lovely Amish restaurant that gave us free cantaloupe (woohoo!). We laughed when we walked in, saw about three tables full, and the waitress told us that it had just gotten “wicked busy.” Ah, country folk. The cashier at a sporting goods store that Nathen went to before we left told us that PA Route 30 would circumnavigate the mountains, and that we should stay on it until Pittsburgh when we hit it. However, he neglected to mention that it eventually turns into a freeway, on which we rode for about five miles before a rousing chorus of “FUCK! THIS!” and exiting to find another route. We have maps, of course, but the hotel we parked in front of graciously allowed us to use their internet. With that and the help of the friendly bell-hop, Paul, we were on a backroads route in no time. We truly did not wish to be caught in the dark again, so we pulled over at one of those oh-so-charming roadside motels, but the office was closed. Dave found a camping spot across the street, but no one answered the door on the seemingly-attached house. We spotted a sign for a state park and rode/walked a MOUNTAINOUS [ed: I believe that this needs to be in 20 point bold italics] three miles out of our way, only to find that the park didn’t allow camping. Nathen spotted a house across the road whose theoretical owner was mowing the lawn. We asked again if we could camp on his land, and he, being much friendlier than the first guy, even let us fill our water and swim in his pool. We didn’t take him up on that, however. After 91 miles, we were too beat to swim. We talked to the man and his adorable little dachshund, Buddy, for a little while before settling up our tent amongst his apple trees. …and that’s where we are now, waiting out a heavy rainstorm and seeing little reason to leave the tent just yet. We’re still not in any hurry =) [ed: actually a horizontal smile] Love, Dave & Nathen
[ed: spelling errors and transcription errors (if any) brought to you by Microsoft Word and yr. hmbl. obdnt.]
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