HMS Beangle

Set your brain in reverse for a moment, back to early May…

You can imagine our raised eyebrows when we saw sign after sign for The Grand Canyon of Pennsylvania. Oh, sweetie. After a very good breakfast at the only and somewhat dubious-looking restaurant in Tioga, Pennsylvania, we drove over to see this natural phenomenon. Yes, it’s good sized and yes, it is a very nice canyon, especially when it’s freshly leafed out in the spring. But Grand? Well, Very Nice Canyon of Pennsylvania doesn’t have quite the same ring, does it?

I like that the PA Department of Conservation and Natural Resources doesn’t play around about dogs going off leash near the ledge. Their viewing sign’s final parting shot hopefully gets people’s attention. It did mine, and we don’t even have pets.

We have moved up into lots of Beech trees territory. There was a marked increase of them in Pennsylvania, New York, and here too in New Hampshire. I enjoy their serrated edges. As for Birch trees along river edges, I’m quite fond of their devil-may-care approach to bark retention. Maybe they’ll keep it, maybe they won’t. The beavers seem quite fond of them either way.

Similar to the fall color show that we experienced heading south, we followed the annual spring wildflower blooms on our northerly route. It’s lovely to see whites, pinks, yellows, and purples breaking through the brown and weathered grays of the forest floor in April. The vibrant orange of the mushrooms above was an exciting find, too.

Ives Run, an Army Corps of Engineers boat launch, day park, and campground along the banks of a double reservoir in north-central Pennsylvania, has an extensive trail system right at the edge of the campground. The views from above are said to be spectacular. We wouldn’t know.

We got about a mile into a 5 mile hike and turned around. Our boots were leaking and the trail was deteriorating with every turn. We’ll have to take their word for it.

Now take the above photo and turn it into an entire campground. That is what our six days at Meadow-Vale in central New York state felt like. Potholes to lose an axel in. Muck in, on, and around the trailer. Moss on top of moss. Rotting leaves on top of rotting leaves. I was very glad the truck has four-wheel drive and the trailer’s suspension is lifted. Oh how we wished we had chosen to drive straight into New Hampshire.

We filled one of our days by driving up to Fort Stanwix National Monument in Rome, NY. For three weeks, the troops in Fort Stanwix held off a British siege, and kept a vital river portage route in American hands. There is a very comprehensive visitor’s center that does an admirable job of showing the varied experiences and opinions of four people involved in the region’s conflicts. A young German-American woman describes a family riven by the conflict. A Scottish loyalist, driven off his farm after siding with the King, takes up arms to punish the upstart rebels. A Native American leader does her best to keep the people of the Six Nations from being pulled into the White people’s war. A Dutch immigrant fighting for the American side describes his vision of liberty and the anticipated spoils of war. Videos throughout the exhibit portray the same four people reacting to events.

Sentry boxes kept the men dry and a bit warmer during their watch shifts. They are not, as I assumed, just very strangely placed latrines.

Rome, NY has an old lock still in place on the Black River canal, a once vital connecting point along the Erie Canal. I’m not sure if the lock is still operational.

Now you might wonder why I picked what is possibly the least desirable campground in central New York State. The simple answer is that it was open for the days we wanted. Oh, if only we’d known. Gilbert Lake State Park, just two miles away, opened only two days later, and it’s lovely. Just. Lovely.

Live and learn.

The wildest part is that for days we’d been asking the owner and all the seasonal folks we talked to (most had parked their RVs there for over ten years) about the state park. Where was the entrance? What kind of hiking, fishing, or activities did it offer? Every single person said they didn’t know anything about it and had never been there. Not even once. Never set foot in the state park that’s a five minute drive away. Now I have to believe that this whole line is a load of crap. Once the park opened for the season, we could SEE some of the trailers at the state park’s campground from the road leading to The Bog.

So I have to ask, What’s the point? Seriously, what is the point? If they all want to camp at The Bog every summer, more power to them. I don’t get it, but I don’t get sour cream and cheddar flavored potato chips either. I like ham and pineapple on my pizza. Almost no one gets that. You do you. But why act like you don’t even know about the state park’s existence to an out-of-state visitor? That’s a weird sense of loyalty, in my book.

Because the Cooperstown Little League World Series facilities are located there, drawing visitors from all over the nation and the world, the small town of Oneota is a food restricted diner’s paradise. Almost every restaurant is accommodations aware and ready to help you have a safe meal. I could have cried when I was offered not only gluten-free toast, but a dairy-free and soy-free butter option. It’s the little things.