Since I’m here in Central PA, I wanted to do some traveling. So I am. And on thursday, Smartz and I headed to State College for Indian food. Ok, the food wasn’t so great. Onions. And dairy everywhere else. So whatever.

We scrammed from State College and headed east on PA Route 45. A couple of tunnels and a ghost town awaited us. Along the way, I caught a glimpse of the “Round Barn.” For some reason, I always miss this. Nothing is really all that special about the “Round Barn,” but that’s ok.

Smartz said that there are many round barns in this area. I asked where, since I had never seen any. She said that there is one east of Montandon on Route 45. However, I reminded her that it’s not a barn, but a school house. And it’s octagonal.

Along 45, there’s a town called Sping Mills. It’s a pretty large town, but I’ve never been to it. It’s an ok place. I wanted to check out this seemingly huge house, but it turned out to be not so big and kind of unimpressive. So I took a picture of the weird purple house. Pretty funky. A bunch of houses around this area are weirdly painted.

Of the two tunnels, we had to hit the eastern-most one first. How it’s laid out is this: a railroad line ran from Lewisburg in the east to State College in the west. Near the middle, they had to build two tunnels. One, the eastern-most one was built near Poe Paddy, a logging camp. On the western side, they built one near the town of Coburn. Between the two tunnels grew the town of Ingleby.

Getting to the Poe Paddy tunnel isn’t very easy. You have to traverse 11 or so miles of dirt road, climb up and then down a mountain. Finally, up a valley, past Poe Valley State Park (home of the Deep Low Place sign - whatever that means). And another several miles to Poe Paddy State Park, hang a left and another mile to a small, unnamed gathering of cabins. It happens a lot out in these parts.

We accidentally took a wrong a turn and ended up on the ass-end of a really bad road and had to turn around. Not a whole lot of fun, really. If I would have had pretty much any vehicle other than a Yaris, I could have done it. But no thanks! We did find our way to this really small town-like thing, near Poe Paddy.

After parking, we crossed a bridge and found the tunnel. It was pretty cool. It was the actual train bridge made into a rails-to-trails bridge. While walking into the tunnel, I turned my left ankle a bit. Yeah, the same ankle I really messed up a couple of months ago. It still hurts a bit. Was a good thing I was wearing my boots - ankle support. If I had been in regular shoes or sneakers, I’d probably be on crutches now.

It was pretty dark in the tunnel. A slight bend prevented us from seeing the other end. On the other end, however, the tunnel looked like, well, a proper train tunnel. Also, there was a great old railroad building that I fell in love with.

I’ve heard that it was possible to take the old railroad grade to Ingleby and then to Coburn. Now, originally, you could. But now, I wasn’t sure. I had heard you still could, but I had also heard that one of the bridges was out.

And we walked maybe a mile westward, towards Ingleby and Coburn. For a bit, we followed a path that was probably an old Native American path along Penns Creek. And yes, that was pretty cool too. We trip-trapped along until we came to where there used to be a bridge. Nothing. Bummer. We had to turn around and go back.

We walked back to and through the tunnel and back to the car and back on the many miles of roads. Much of the driving was on snow-covered roads. It would go from bone dry and dirt to snow in like fifty feet. Was not easy to drive, really. A lot of it was in first gear. We even slipped around a bit. Fun? Sure!

Oh, but I’m an excellent driver, so all was well.

But we made it out to Pine Creek Road, hung a right and drove to Coburn, about three miles down the road. We buzzed through the very small and funky town, took a left on tunnel Road. After about a mile, the road rounded tunnel Mountain. We passed one opening of the tunnel and went around to another small, unnamed collection of cabins and a train bridge.

We couldn’t go through the tunnel because it was way too wet in there. But we crossed the bridge and peered out eastward towards where Ingleby certainly was. We could probably get to it from here, but we’d have to walk a few miles back. No thanks today.

A couple of kids, a guy and a gal in letterman jackets were having some fun in the tunnel. Good for them, it was a beautiful day.

It must have been pretty great to be a train engineer along this route. You’ve got two tunnels, three bridges and some beautiful creek-side scenery.

We left the tunnel scene and drove through the town of Coburn. Coburn is a neat little town with some weirdly colored houses. I have always dug this town, but my God, I would never want to live here. Unless the whole town was made up of people I could actually stomach being secluded away from the world. And honestly, there are WAY too many houses for that in this small town.

But at least one was for sale, so if anyone is interested… there you go.

Ok, maybe I was a bit cranky there. But this town is really in the middle of nowhere. Yet, there are a bunch of houses here. Sure, it was a railroad town and it still has a grainery, but I’m impressed at how large the town still is.

And only one house for sale.

Upon leaving Coburn, it was a quick few miles to the three-mile road that heads back to the ghost town of Ingleby. Ingleby lies between the two tunnels. It was founded around 1880ish and was a pretty hopping logging town. You can read more about Ingleby here (and it’s pretty interesting).

Pretty much all that is left of Ingleby are a few cabins, the old railroad bed and, of course, the Weather Rock.

Like I said, there’s not a whole lot to see here. History is rich, but mostly it’s all gone. It’s still really beautiful, right up against Penns Creek.

Not having a lot to do in Ingleby, we drove back the dirt road to Route 45, took a right and eventually ended up in Lewisburg. Quite the day, huh?

Click here to see all of the pics, including a close up of the writing about the Weather Rock. Do it!

[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!]

[You can click on any picture here to make it bigger. Also, there’s a link to a photo album of 90 some pictures at the end of this post.]

I had a really fun travel day yesterday [actually, the 10th]! I was going from Wheeling, WV to central PA, the land of my forefathers.

I bade farewell to Rati and Dwija, hopped in my stupid little car and grabbed the National Road out of town. National Road is basically US Route 40 (in this area), but there are some “abandoned” sections of it that are well-marked.

Along the way, they’ve replaced the old National Road mile markers. I thought that was a pretty darn cool idea, actually. And they were pretty faithful too. Years ago, National Road had these things every mile. But entropy prevails and there aren’t many left. So redoing them was a cool idea.

Well, at least I thought it was.

I found my way to something called the “S” Bridge. It’s a really cool stone bridge, but it has an “S” curve (sort of) in it.

See? Pretty nifty.

It was also here that I found that the mile markers are a bit less than what I had hoped for…

I was bummed.

But I tramped on nonetheless.

Oh I did. I traveled National Road till Washington, PA and then grabbed the interstate to US 119 and that to US 30 - the Lincoln Highway.

One of the first things I came across on Lincoln Highway was the Flight 93 Memorial. Flight 93 was the plane that went down in PA on 9/11. All around this memorial, folks have placed hats, religious trinkets and flags. Also, there’s a lot of “we’re gonna git them!” rhetoric. Revenge for everyone!

At any rate, it wasn’t really a somber place. It was mostly angry. Kind of a shame.

And on I had to go. More Lincoln Highway for me! Lincoln Highway in western Pennsylvania has a bunch of hills. Most of them have big warning signs for trucks imploring them to not kill everybody in the world. One particular hill sparked my interest. Lookout Point - with an elevation of 2464 feet.

Check it out. Something used to be here! So I did a little research and came up with this…

Oh Some!
You can read more about it here. Neat place, eh?

Like National Road, Lincoln Highway also has abandoned sections. Down one of them is an old log church and a cemetery.

If I would have stayed on US 30 or just would have taken the interstate, I would have missed this. Actually, I would have missed pretty much everything I saw yesterday.

And speaking of getting off the interstate… how about getting off the interstate to see the interstate?

Sometime in the late 60’s, Pennsylvania by-passed about 13 miles and three tunnels of interstate. Now, if you travel down an old dirt road, you can get to most of it. Most of it is open to public use. Mostly, they’ve made it a bike trail. “Pike-to-Bike.”

I rambled around and finally came across the Sidling Hill tunnel.

I like some graffiti. Especially stencils. I found two that made me happy…

I could access the abandoned interstate in three locations. You can check out the photo album for more fun shots. Including a weird storage building that was all caved in. It housed blue metal tiles that made no sense to me at all.

After the tunnel fun, I moseyed my way to Gettysburg. A lot has changed since I was there last summer. But I bet most people wouldn’t notice.

I visited my typical haunts - Sach’s Covered Bridge and Little Round top. But I didn’t stay too long. It was getting dark and chilly.

I did manage a visit to Devil’s Den…

And the adjacent Valley of Death…

Before leaving, I drove by the new Visitor’s Center. It opens next month.

I approve. I like it quite a lot, actually.

And that was my day. I did about 350 miles. It took me nearly 12 hours, but it was pretty fun. I’m not really used to traveling alone, but I guess i better get used to it. I need to be a bit more outgoing and chatty with people. Not that I saw a lot of folks today, but still, I know that I do.

For those who will be following me on my Scoot 66 trip, this is probably how the format will be/look/etc. If you have any suggestions to make your stay more enjoyable, please let me know. Ok? Ok!

[Click here to see all of the pics I took! ]