[We traveled this on Wednesday, March 12. Click on the pics to make them larger. Also, there are more pics in the photo album here.]

I get bored here in Pennsylvania. But that doesn’t mean that there’s nothing to do, right? Oh right! In PA, we’ve got a lot of history. Let’s see some.

One thing I’ve always wanted to do was take US 6 across Pennsylvania. And while there definitely isn’t time to do that all in one day, I did get a bit of it under my belt.

I was at Cherry Alley Cafe, eating my regular tofu wrap when I got pretty bored. John stopped by and we talked about Seattle and then nobody was around. So I got online and saw that Smartz was on and we decided to do a little road trip. I picked Route 6 and we headed up I-80 and then I-81 to Scranton. We grabbed 6 and headed west.

Around Scranton, there isn’t much all that interesting. Yeah, there are a few old alignments that I didn’t follow, but sort of wish I would have. See, on really famous roads like Route 66 or National Road or Lincoln Highway, many of the older, abandoned alignments that I love so much are well-researched and well-marked. Not true on Route 6. However, there ARE a lot of old alignments – I just didn’t hit any of them (well, one of them – more on that later).

I’m sort of a sucker for historical markers and scenic overlooks. Often, they’re both together! Warrior’s Path Scenic Overlook (my name) was one such place. It afforded an ok view of the Susquehanna River (having lived near it my whole life, it’s not all that impressive) and a really nifty house. Check it out.

A bit farther down the road, we passed a sign for Camptown. Camptown! You can hardly hear the word without the song “Camptown Races” running through your head. Well, at least I can’t.

De Camptown ladies sing dis song — Doo-dah! doo-dah!
De Camptown racetrack five miles long — Oh! doo-dah day!

Gwine to run all night! Gwine to run all day!
I’ll bet my money on de bob-tail nag — Somebody bet on de bay!

Now, seeming racism (Foster was anti-racist and urged his performers in black face to make the audience feel compassion for slaves) and not-quite-veganism aside, this is a fun song. Camptown Races is about a horse race from Camptown to Merryall (both in PA) – five miles. It was written by Stephen Foster who grew up in Lawrenceville, PA (now part of Pittsburgh) and lived in towanda (along what was to become Route 6) when he wrote “Camptown Races” (actually, it’s called “Gwine to Run All Night!”).

But did we stop in Camptown? Nope. Why? Well, I didn’t know about this connection until we were a few towns over.

However, along the way, I passed this funky looking rest area. After turning around, it turned out to be an old overlook. It peered over a flat valley called Azilum. Azilum was an intentional community started by French royalty booted out of France during the French Revolution. A house was even built for Marie Antoinette on the off-chance that she wouldn’t be beheaded. Oh, that didn’t work out so well for her. Azilum lasted a few years and then the residents left and founded other towns in the area.

As far as this scenic overlook went, I believe that Route 6 used to be between the road house, cabins, possible service station and the two weird little stone gazebo looking things. I could be wrong, but it’s a hunch. I didn’t get a picture of the road house, but here are the cabins and what could be an old service station…

After passing through towanda, we breezed by a tiny town called Luthurs Mills. Shortly after those several houses, there was a sign pointing to a covered bridge. We went back a winding road that looked suspiciously like an old alignment of a well-traveled route (it could have once been Route 6) and came by a very well restored covered bridge. Pennsylvania has 200 or so covered bridges that are still in commission, this was one of the best I’ve ever seen.

I pulled over to take a picture of it, snapped one and got back in the car. I said “Ok, I think we should cross it.” Smartz, suffering from a sass-attack, sarcastically spat out “Oh, I can’t wait!”

Be nice to me and my weird thing for covered bridges!

After nearly 80 miles on US Route 6, when we came upon troy, a largish town with a few funny signs.

I love signs. Signs tell quite a lot about a the folks who made the sign. Above, the folks are clearly very corny. It reminded me of a sign that Chris from the Natural Food & Garden Store in Lewisburg would put up (right now he’s got “Gravity – It’s not just a good idea… it’s the law!”) But one of my favorite signs on this trip was the small white sign posted right before crossing a bridge. It read simply: Bridge. Brilliant. Just brilliant.

And with “Bridge” we bade farewell to the Grand Army of the Republic Highway (US Route 6), turned onto PA 14, a venerable route in its own right, and wandered our way to PA 154, which winding us to Shunk, a town with a very cool name. Shunk wasn’t much of anything, but it had a charm to it. Why folks settled here, I have no idea, but it still has a working general store/post office. I love those things. I love you, Shunk!

PA 154 led us to Forksville, home of the Forksville Folk Festival and another great covered bridge. Also, another general store. Most towns in northern Pennsylvania have such things. Many have become tourist stops, but most still stock everyday use items. Sort of like a country convenience store.

From Forksville, we hopped on US 220 and then on PA 42 to Bloomsburg to drop off Smartz, just a bit before 8pm. A fun little trip of about 250 miles. Most of it, the nonInterstate bits, were relaxing. Just like the sign above the General Store in Forksville:

[Click here to see more pics!]