Didn’t make miles, but did make a friend.

(Left off in the hotel in Brookville) I tried to sleep in but knew I had miles to cover.  I am anxious to get out of Pennsylvania, for the simple fact that I’ll feel like I’m making progress if I enter a new state.  I barefooted it over to the lobby and picked up a few of the “Continental Breakfast” items, took them back to my room, and ate while I watched my favorite documentary which just happened to come on. (Black Blizzard)

Right beside the motel was a laundromat, so, even though it was late morning, I stopped to wash a load of clothes and dry my damp-from-condensation sleeping bag. I finally hit the road at one o’clock.

The 322, which I was still following, is very hilly. Even so, and even with my late start, I managed 20 miles. I arrived in Brookville and stopped at a little bar called simply The Tavern.  Grilled cheese for $1.75: can’t beat that. I asked a couple that sat near me about places to camp, rooms to rent, whatever.  They gave me the names of a few places, but they were out of my price range. Before they left, the barkeep told me they’d paid for my dinner and Heinekens.. It keeps happening. Some men came in all wearing powder blue t-shirts; they’d been playing softball I presume.  One man    struck up conversation with me, and told me he had several places for rent.  One across the street was empty; he told me to wait there, he was going to get the keys and let me stay in it.  Great, I didn’t have to camp, I’d have a shower.

So I had another beer, waited, talked to some other locals, and waited some more. Pretty soon it was apparent this man wasn’t returning; the place closed at midnight and that hour was rapidly approaching.  One couple had offered me a place but I held out hope “Smitty” would return.  The barkeep called him but got no answer.  Another couple told me they’d drive me to a good place to camp along the Clarion River.  We loaded Panda up, but not until I left a nice drawing of a jackass for Smitty at the bar.

They drove me to a place where boats were docked and people launched canoes and such.  I threw down my picnic blanket and mattress and George, and went right to sleep.  Some cars drove in and out early in the morning, and when it was all clear, I walked around and checked out my surroundings.  I was camped right by a wide, quiet river. A few boats were docked off a variety of somewhat dilapidated docks. I looked for the dock or pier that was easiest to access and lowest to the water’s surface.  I slipped my bathing suit on, got a towel, bandana, and biodegradable soap, and made my way down a steep, rusty staircase to a slanted, weathered dock.  I dunked my bandana into the cool water and took a sponge bath… and as I got wetter and wetter I decided to just go ahead and jump in.  Mistake.  My body locked up and I lost my breath for a second, it was colder than I thought.  The air temperature was in the 40’s somewhere, I could see my breath. My swim in the Clarion River didn’t last long!

I dried off, dressed, packed up and headed west on the 322.  The little town I came to didn’t have a restaurant, so I got a premade sandwich, a couple Red Bulls and gatorades, and walked a bit further.   The highways split, I sat and examined a map and decided to take the 208.

Shortly after getting on the new road, I came to a tavern.  I was in a lazy mood, and wanted to stop and study the map and make sure my chosen route connected to the road I wanted to take into Ohio.

I talked to the very pretty bartender a bit, and to some of the local men sitting around having lunch and or a beer. I had a beer or two, then ordered lunch, and got talking to a man named Casey who’d seen me walking earlier. Somehow we got on the topic of my artwork, and he told me he had a cabin a few miles from there, that he’d built, and he’d love to have a drawing of it.

The bartender didn’t charge me for my sandwich or beers.

So, after I ate, we loaded Panda into his Cherokee and drove to his cabin, which was secluded on about 60 acres of woods. He drove grass trails to it, The Amish neighbors raise deer for game; and the small herd of whitetails panicked as we paralleled their fence. At the cabin he showed me how it was built, high up on a huge flat boulder, and we spread out my picnic blanket and sat in the sun and talked a while, drinking a PBR.

After about an hour, we drove to get his son, and since it was late afternoon, and my day, as far as mileage went, was pretty well shot, he invited me to stay over. We stopped to pick up a pizza, which I insisted on paying for, and went to his place. After we ate, I worked on this blog, and he and his son Sidney played board games, video games, wrestled, etc. I had a nice comfortable couch to sleep on, and after Sidney went to bed upstairs, Casey and I talked a while, before I got too sleepy and fell asleep.

In the morning I enjoyed a nice hot shower and loaded Panda back up into his Jeep, and Casey drove me to this truck stop in Emlenton, a few miles west of Knox, where we were. We came here because there’s a restaurant, and he said I’d pretty much be out of the hills.

According to Google maps, I’m 44 miles from Sharon, which is very close to the Ohio border. I am anxious to get out of Pennsylvania, and anxious to get out of the hills. I have two drawings now, one of the owner of Over the Mountain, and now the cabin for Casey. I told him I couldn’t promise when, but that I would get it done and mailed to him at some point. Although I didn’t make many miles yesterday, I had a really nice time with Casey and his son, and like to think I made a friend. As soon as I am done with breakfast, I’ll be heading west on the 208. I hope to make Ohio by Sunday night or Monday morning.