We left Buffalo, New York, early this morning with half a cold Bocce Club pizza wrapped in foil and ready for breakfast. As typical of our travels, we meandered through the countryside, bypassing the speedier highway for more relaxed rural sightseeing. This photo was taken near Wales Center, just southeast of Buffalo; we are on the US-20A.
We have over 300 miles to cover today as we position ourselves closer to Baltimore, Maryland, from where we’ll fly home.
Along the way, we spotted a camel – what in the world is a camel doing living on a farm in New York?
Maybe it’s feasting on the beautiful flowers?
The sheep seemed right at home, though.
So, after Jamestown, Colonial Williamsburg, Mount Vernon, D.C., New York City, and Waterloo, New York, where Memorial Day began, we’ve now been to Mt. Morris, home of Francis Bellamy, who wrote the Pledge of Allegiance. At this time, we are traveling on NY-36 and avoiding the toll roads.
I’ve probably said it a hundred times before, but you don’t get to stop to admire brooks, sheep, camels, or flowers from the freeways or thru-ways as they are known in New York.
Obviously not seen from a main highway.
Ice Cream Island in Dansville, New York, with John and Jutta, though I spy a cone in my left hand for Caroline. I know it’s hers because I’m the vanilla man while she’s the “Anything-but-vanilla woman.”
The more we see of New York away from its big cities, the more it feels like New York State is one of the most beautiful in America. While every state we visit has some inherent natural beauty, and it would be near impossible to briefly quantify here in this short paragraph what those distinguishing characteristics are that have me feeling that New York stands out; it just seems to be that way.
It wasn’t long before we arrived at the Pennsylvania state border and stopped at a visitors center with one of the best views of any state visitors center we have seen so far.
Perched high above a river valley, on this clear day, you could see far and wide; only a panorama would have done the sight justice. A super-friendly employee at this roadside information treasure trove directed us to some beautifully scenic small roads to take on our way to the Lancaster, Pennsylvania, area.
As we approached this famous Amish region, the forested roads gave way to idyllic pastoral farms. Hmmm, is this some kind of foreshadowing?
Jutta had to have this photo of her pointing to Mausdale because her daughter Stephanie might get a laugh about seeing this. You see, Stephanie’s nickname is Maus, which in English is mouse, so you could read this as Mouseville.
The Amish are near.
I could have tried to get a better shot of Mill Creek Dam, but this is what I got. When you live in a desert, things like flowing water hold magical appeal.
The wheels made of wood and steel belts combined with the clopping sound of the horseshoes can seem loud, and then there are the horse farts along with the poo that falls out right before your face, but still, this form of transportation seems like a lot of fun if you don’t have a hundred miles to cover. It’s too bad there are no parallel roads, so the Amish don’t have to share roads with cars. Regarding the comment about loudness, I’ve never seen an Amish buggy feature a booming sound system that rattles nearby buggies.
This is the Mascot Roller Mills & Ressler Family Home, built back in 1737 in Ronks, Pennsylvania.
We are in the heart of Lancaster County, where the presence of the Amish is felt everywhere.
If there’s daylight, there’s time for work.
If it looks quiet out there, it’s because there are no machines, no electricity, no TV, no video games, not even the internet.
By now, we have passed a number of black horse-drawn buggies moving members of the Amish community down the same roads shared by those of us in our speeding cars.
After our guilty stops to gawk at these folks living their lives in a fishbowl, we head over to one of the many Amish-style restaurants out this way to stuff ourselves with all-you-can-eat family-style dinner and then check in to our motel.
Just as the sun is setting over Bird-in-Hand, Pennsylvania, the sun is about to set on our two-week vacation here in the North Atlantic states. Tonight, we get in early to start rearranging our bags for tomorrow’s flight back to Arizona. Two dozen books, a dozen refrigerator magnets, yarn, thimbles, and various other souvenirs will be packed up and ready to go. No lamenting the end of this trip, though, as it has been nothing less than perfect. Plus, we still have two more things to do from our itinerary tomorrow.