Travelling with no destination...

Homage to the Olympics.

When travelling, as opposed to going on holiday, there's always a period of transition for us. It generally takes two or three weeks before we settle into the daily routine of life on the road. During that time we feel vaguely uncomfortable, never quiet sure where we'll end up for the night and never quite certain whether the day will bring pleasant or nasty surprises. All the small details of living in a travelling home have to be adapted to and some sort of routine has to be established - usually based around when the dirty water tanks have to be emptied, the propane tank filled, the laundry done as well as where the night will be spent.

How we get our kicks.

 And so it was yesterday. the plan was to set off from our rural idyll near Dayton and head for the city of Pittsburgh. We'd find somewhere to sleep near a train station, catch a train into town and spend a day in the city - as you might in the UK.
    It didn't quite work out that way. We got chatting to Tony, a guy who'd been dragged along to a wedding being held on the camp site (really) but liked the 'Brits', who always made him feel at ease for some reason. He was an interesting guy, with stories of drinking with Royal Navy sailors when he served in US submarines. He couldn't believe the Navy had a rum ration.

We thought there was only one.

So combine that with our tardy breakfast and we started off late, arriving late afternoon at a narrow entrance to a factory where we had pulled up to look at the maps. There we met a character wearing a red hat, t shirt and shorts, carrying a golf club, miles from a golf course who also let us know very quickly that he was a doctor in peridontology and not normally dressed in this eccentric way. He cheerfully told us that catching a train was not a good idea as there was only one a day and we should park up and hire a car to drive in.
    "There's a factory car park over there. John always goes away for the weekend. I know him and he won't mind. If anyone asks, just tell them that Stanley said it would be OK. They all know me. (I bet they do!) Let me show you where the units park. Over here, just don't get onto the grass because it's a bit soft. You'll be fine. Enjoy your day in Pittsburgh. Do you play golf? I could teach you how to swing if you want…" All this was said with a constant and slightly unnerving smile.
    As it was late we made our usual visit to McDonalds for a wi-fi fix and then attempted to find a spot at Bushy Run Battleground that we intended to visit the following day. We drove past a large gate firmly locked. We reluctantly made our way the five miles back to our 'recommended' trailer parking. And that was our day - apart from a lot of discussion between us as to what this trip should turn into.

We fit in with the colour scheme here.

As is the way on such journeys, a focus of interest arrived the next day. We'd enjoyed discovering the historical context of this country at Fort Robedeau -  and idly looking at the maps we discovered a veritable coal mine of historical sites to visit. (We are in PA…) All have their small part to play in the creation of America, and it's interesting to find out how the folks here regard their decisive battles with the indigenous population - as well as the British. So the agenda suddenly materialises for the next phase of our trip. (I don't know how it happens but it nearly always does.)

Bushy Run Battlefield 1763

Now, like just about everyone reading this blog, the Battle of Bushy Run meant nothing to us. Now we know that it was one of the decisive battles in the war against the Indians in 1763, and if lost the history of the USA may have taken a different course. (They could be speaking French for God's sake!)

Once the British had won the earlier war against the French (ref: Fort Roberdeau - keep up at the back.) they started to renege on a treaty they'd made with the Indians, guaranteeing them their lands were safe. No surprise there then. The unintended consequence of this was that the North American Indians combined forces for the first time ever, and attacked their common enemy. Us.

An ex cop and army guy who likes guns.

This was a battle fought when a relief supply to Fort Pitt, now Pittsbugh, was ambushed in deep, dense, dark forest. Fortunately for the men, the chap in charge wasn't English but a Swiss bloke who was extremely bright - Colonel Bouquet. His tactics of the battle are still studied by military men today and the lessons learnt used in places like Afghanistan. Some things never change…

And it wasn't hard to get him to hold the British flag!

If you're not falling asleep on your screen yet, you can find out for yourself what was so special about the encounter. Having been there, we reckon it was pretty impressive. Those guys were tough. They had to be. The 'savage' natives were generally far taller and healthier than the colonialists due to their diet, and what was wilderness to the invaders was home for the natives.

Rescued from the mud of a creek. Can you see the Indian - sorry, Native American?

The Native Rebellion ended a year later in 1764, and of course everyone knows what happened to the indigenous way of life.

More log cabins.

And so on to Annstown, and the reconstruction of a Tavern that was built there around this time. It's all very interesting and we recognised Roland's workmanship in the buildings there. But already we're beginning to hear the same stories repeated about life on the frontier.

Only a day and we're beginning to wonder how long this phase will last.