Pennsylvania – Some Great Connections, Some Tough Times: August 208-30, 2009
Friday, August 28, 2009
Walking in Pennsylvania
As I left the Deer Head Inn at the Delaware Water Gap drizzly rain fell. It was about 9.30 am.
In the rain I walked out of the Delaware Water Gap, turned left on Route 611 and headed for Stroudsburg, Pennsylvania. The road cut through small cliffs of rock and water from the rain trickled and dripped off the rocks. I have a strange fascination with water...but hate getting wet in the rain. So as I walked I was happy in one way...but not so happy about getting wet.
As the damp streets of Stroudsburg appeared I came to a Pancake House. It was time for brunch. A waitress showed me to a table. She said she loved my accent, to which I said I loved hers, too. At the table next to me was a family that came from Queens [county] in New York. They asked about my walk after seeing my “Walking for Hospice” sign and were delighted to hear that I'd walked through Queens and Brooklyn.
Kindness from Yolanda, Mark, and Ron at Walgreens Drugstore
As I headed out of Stroudsburg a Walgreens appeared. I needed to have photos put on a disk to send to the National Hospice Foundation, so walked on in. The lady at the photo section was Yolanda Henderson...and she was wonderful! Once Yolanda heard about my walk she phoned up the manager Mark Thomas and executive assistant manager Ron Walton.
They put my photos on disk at no charge and took a photograph of Yolanda and me to send off to the Walgreens company magazine. They all wished me luck. On a wet and dreary day they cheered me up no end.
The plan that day was to walk to Tobyhanna. It was quite some distance and much of it up hill. With the late start and various stops I’d made I could tell that I wasn't going to make it to Tobyhanna.
Another Meaningful Chance Encounter
At a post office a couple of miles before Tannersville I sent off the photo disks to the National Hospice Foundation and chatted with the postal worker about walking through sandstorms in Iceland and a volcano in New Zealand. He had about an hour left to work, the post office was virtually empty and he enjoyed the chat.
Just after I left the post office a battered blue car pulled up in front of me on the left hand side of the road. Inside the car was a boy of about 18. He asked about the walk and I gave him the blog Web site details.
As I wrote then down I looked in the car and saw that the boy's left leg had been amputated at the knee. The boy's name was Brandon. He'd had cancer and had to have his lower left leg removed. I asked him how he was doing and he said he was doing ok. He wished me luck and shook my hand. As he shook my hand he held it with a firm grip. When he wished me luck he meant it. As he drove off, I was left to think about how chance brought me meetings with such amazing people. Was it chance or was something strange going on?
Time to Rest
Scotrun was just ahead. The rain became heavy. Ahead was a diner and a motel. It was time to stop. A night in the dry, chance to have a shower, check e-mails and begin the walk again at a diner all appealed.
It was all good. Tomorrow I would try to make up the lost ground, although I began to have doubts as to whether my three days ahead of schedule would begin to slip through my hands, like sand through an hour glass.
Sunday, August 29, 2009
Where to Sleep Tonight? No Easy Answers
I had meant to wake early, but as I lay in bed I could hear the rain falling heavily outside. I also needed rest. In the end I woke at 8 am and was all packed and ready by 9 am. A quick breakfast of bacon and scrambled eggs at the Scotrun diner and it was time to go. The rain was just drizzle, more like low cloud, but blanketed the way ahead. All things considered though, it was good. The rain meant lower temperatures and easier walking. I would just have to put up with being wet. I wore my waterproof coat, but the steady climb to Mount Pocono on Route 611 had me sweating and getting soaked from the inside as opposed to from the outside.
An Instant Connection
Not long after setting out a green car pulled up in front of me, on a side road on the right hand side of the road. A woman with red hair climbed out of the car. She had a big smile on her face.
“Hi...I'm Debbie. Tell me about your walk!”
I could sense there was an instant connection between us. I explained about the walk and Debbie told me that she had just walked from Mount Pocono to Washington, DC to raise awareness of unfair treatment to woman police officers.
Debbie's father had died recently. Hospice had helped Debbie and her father. The long walks and the desire to help hospice made us kindred spirits. Debbie said she had a friend called Paul who lived up near Tobyhanna and said he might know someone that I could stay with. I took Debbie's phone number and we agreed that I would call her at about 2 pm, by which time I should be at Tobyhanna. I shook Debbie's hand...then we decided that wasn't quite right and gave each other a hug. It was weird, but there was definitely and instant connection between the two of us.
Promise of Company and a Real Bed
In eager anticipation of staying with a real person...in a real home...and not being alone, I set off with renewed strength.
Walking without a break I passed through Swiftwater and climbed steadily up to Mount Pocono. At Mount Pocono the low cloud and drizzly rain surrounded the town in 100% humidity.
Ignoring all the places selling food and not drinking any water either I pushed on towards Tobyhanna.
I hoped that Debbie's friend would be able to meet me. If I could stay with him or someone he knew then maybe I could leave my pack with them and have an easy walk to Daleville.
A Connection to my 1988 Walk
On the outskirts of Tobyhanna, I called Debbie but got her voice mail. I left a message saying I'd phone back in 30 minutes.
I then entered a pizza place called Baby Bruno's. Inside were three people, including a woman called Melissa Curry. We chatted, and I learned that Melissa's grandmother lived in Daleville. As a child she had gone round to Nick DeSandis' house for ice cream and pie. Twenty years ago, on my previous walk across the U.S. for hospice, I had stayed at the home of Nick DeSandis. Melissa told me that Nick had died. Nick had been in his seventies 20 years, but I had hoped he would still be living in Daleville.
Voicemail Frustration
From Baby Bruno's I tried to phone Debbie once more, but again got voice mail. I must say that I hate voice mail, I'm always happier talking to someone. On Debbie's voice mail I said that I would take the back road to Gouldsboro and try to phone again.
Up around Mount Pocono the heavily wooded area was shrouded in mist and there had been lots of dead twisted black trees. At Tobyhanna there was an army base. The low cloud lifted. By the army base I found the back road to Gouldsboro. By now I was feeling tired and hoped that Debbie's friend would be able to take my pack and find me a place to stay. The back road was quiet and rolled up and down through thick woodland. I wondered if there bears in the woods. The right side of the road was fenced off and had warnings about the land being owned by the army base. Hoping I was on the right road I carried on walking until about 5.30. I made it to the edge of Gouldsboro and phoned Debbie's number.
For the third time I got voice mail.
No Offer of a Place to Stay
I needed to check on how to get to Daleville from Gouldsboro to Daleville. There were several houses amidst the trees and I was just asking a man for directions when a black car pulled up beside me.
“Hello, did you meet a woman called Debbie this morning?'” The question came from a man in the car. I said yes and started talking to the man, who turned out to be Debbie's friend Paul.
Paul offered to take me to a campsite 5 miles back down my route, but didn't know of anyone who I could stay with. For me it was a disappointment.
I thanked him for driving out to meet me, but said I'd push on to Daleville. Paul gave a donation for hospice and gave me his phone number in case I had any problems, then he drove off.
Tired and disappointed I walked through Gouldsboro and towards Route 435 North.
Yet Another Connection
The skies darkened and heavy rain began. Ahead, at the junction with the 380 Interstate and 435 was a large gas station and Burger King. I ducked inside the Burger King, just as the skies opened and heavy rain fell all around. It was great to be inside, as the forecourt of the gas station quickly became flooded with a couple of inches of rain. I ordered food.
The manager of the Burger King was a woman called Clare. She came over to talk to me about my walk. Her father had died from pancreatic cancer and had been helped by the hospice in Scranton. My mother had also died from pancreatic cancer...again there was a connection between Clare and myself.
But, Still No Place to Stay – and the Police Are Checking Me Out
The rain stopped and I made ready to leave. On the table next to me was a man who was in his seventies or eightied. I asked him for directions to Daleville. His answer wasn't quite what I expected.
“What you wanna go there for?”
I told him about the walk, but he wasn't impressed.
“There's nothing at Daleville. Where are you going to stay?”
“I'm not too sure.”
I could see that he thought I was crazy.
So, without clear directions, or knowing where I would end up, I walked on out into the dark. The edge of the road was bad: with loose bits of asphalt, pools of water and potholes. Cars and trucks rushed on by me.
When there were no cars, though, the night was peaceful. Ahead of me, pointing the way to Daleville was the constellation of the Big Dipper.
Up in the deep black sky there was Orion, but not standing like a hunter with a bow. This Orion was lying on his back, looking like a hunter who had drunk one too many ales. The thought made me smile.
On the road I passed homes scattered amongst the black woodlands. At one point I passed a “gentlemen's club” called “The Grand View.” I wondered about going in and stopping the night…but thought better of it.
By 10 pm I reached the fork in the road that marked the junction with 435 North and 307 to Scranton. A gas station and large convenience store stood at the junction. I went in and got a bottle of orange juice and a bottle of chocolate milk. I sat on a large rock beside the gas station and drank the drinks. Daleville was now only two miles away. By now, though, I was tired.
With sore feet and aching shoulders I moved off.
It was not long after that a light shone behind me and a car pulled up. The officer said,“Sir...excuse me sir. Can you stop a moment?”
I turned around to see a young police officer...maybe 18 or 20 standing in dazzling lights from his patrol car.
I quickly explained what I was doing and gave him my details and ID.
The policeman's name was Luke Olszar. I said that I was thinking of trying to put my tent up at the church at Daleville. Luke radioed his station and they said that without permission from the pastor it would be considered trespassing. I asked Luke if he had any suggestions and jokingly asked if he could arrest me for the night so I could stay in the cells. Luke suggested I find a quiet spot somewhere, where I wouldn’t bother anyone. Luke wished me luck and drove off.
Not long after I reached the junction of 502 and 435 North. To the left was a McDonalds that was closing up for the night. To the right was a large Rite Aid pharmacy. I'd found my campsite for the night.
At the back of the Rite Aid was beautiful short grass, with a row of small trees and a low brick outbuilding. Wondering if there were security cameras around the building, I skirted the trees and set up my tent in the shadow of the small brick outbuilding. By 11.30 I had cleaned my teeth and was inside the tent.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
A Tough Day
My Sleep is Interrupted by Teenage Love
At 12.15AM and a car pulled into the parking lot. I woke up and wondered whether I was going to be moved on, or whether the car meant worse trouble.
A heavy boom, boom of bass music came from the car and I heard the deep voice of a boy and the higher voice of a girl. Ahhh, two teenagers, music, in a car late at night in a secluded parking lot. For an hour or so all I heard was the boom, boom sound of music. At one point the boy asked the girl where he'd put his wallet and there were other noises that it's best not to go into. After an hour the lights of the car swung over my tent, then the car was gone. I hoped they hadn't seen the tent or registered the fact that I'd been there.
Until 4 am I dozed. The grass I was on was sloped. I found myself slipping to the edge of the tent. By 4 am I woke for the last time.
Outside I could hear what sounded like millions of small drops of water. It wasn't so much raining as oozing. As I unzipped the tent everything outside, including the tent was wet. In air that was 100 per cent humid I packed up.
Road Closed
By 4.20 am I headed down 502 West. All my water was gone and I had no food. A short while into Route 502 there were signs saying “Road Closed.” A half mile further on I came to signs saying “Danger” and “No Trespassing. “
The road was fenced off, but they hadn't blocked off a guardrail to the left. I climbed over to investigate and was potentially in danger of arrest for trespassing. Ahead of me was the bridge that should take Route 502 over the interstate below.
Unfortunately it was only half a bridge...missing the sides and with only concrete lintels placed where the road surface should be. It was tempting to walk across, but the thought of being spotted doing it was enough to put me off. Heading back down Route 502 I followed the detour signs, up 307 North, left on 690 and back to the 502.
By about 6 am the skies to the east began to brighten as the sun rose.
Really Hungry, Thirsty, and Exhausted
On 690, white mist hung over green fields. I stopped to take pictures of cows, goats and horses. Little yellow birds twittered around in some trees, and a red cardinal bird sat majestically close by. The road took me from green fields into dense woodland. All was well apart from me not having any food or water.
Route 690 ended at 502 West, about 4 miles after the bridge that was being repaired.
There was a diner and another food place...but both were closed down.
I continued walking on 502, listening to music on my portable CD player. Tall trees, lakes and blue skies made the views gorgeous.
By 1 pm, weary, foot sore and close to exhaustion I reached Moosic, on the outskirts of Scranton.
Relief!
A Subway and convenience store lay at the end of the road. A sub sandwich, two bottles of chocolate milk, a bottle of orange juice and a coffee all went down. I felt slightly sick, probably from the instant rush of sugar into my blood. I was also tired to the point of exhaustion.
The man who ran the convenience store gave me directions to Trotter's Motel. By 2 pm I was checked in. As soon as I got to the room I laid down on the bed and fell asleep. Four hours later I awoke feeling much better.
Tomorrow I will hit Route 11 South and begin journeying up the Susquehanna Valley. New York City, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania have almost gone by. After the Susquehanna , Upper New York State will begin.
