The same day - again and again?

We've set out on these travels with no planning. So there's no route, no timetable and no destination. Where we travel each day is usually down to whim or serendipity. We read or hear of something interesting, and we head for it. Sometimes we never arrive, because we don't fancy the road, or even the idea of the destination anymore.

It sounds a recipe for disaster, after all In England you can drive for 40 minutes and be somewhere else. Here you find yourself in much the same place. But we've tried it before and it works out surprisingly well. The secret is to be completely flexible, go where a whim leads and make the most of chance encounters. We're more interested in conversations with folk we meet on the way rather than the grand tourist hot spots - though I'm sure we'll see a few of those as well.  Consequently we find ourselves in small townships in out-of-the-way places, eating in small diners while we wait for our laundry to finish, hearing the small town gossip.

A garden shed.

"People round here don't think it's right and proper that I run this native indian gift shop - not in a Christian township like this. My neighbour hasn't talked to me for three years…"

As we looked at the map figuring out where to go next, we noticed a place about 40 miles away called Punxutawney which for some reason sounded familiar. Groundhog Day of course. Well we had to go, and our route for the day was decided.

Now Punxutawney is a small town of only about 6000 souls, but every year in the depths of freezing winter (and the snow can get pretty deep around here) it's population goes up by 500%. That's right, over 30,000 people turn up to see the ceremony of Groundhog Day. Really! The fact is even stranger than the fiction of the film. Apparently the keepers of the legend of Puxutawney Phil call themselves the "Inner Circle of the Punxutawney Groundhog Club."

This whole weather forecasting affair was started in the 19th century. A resourceful newspaper editor called Clymer Freas linked the annual groundhog hunting day with the European Candlemas celebration on February 2nd. (Apparently a similar event was held in Germany, where they used a hedgehog.)

If the creature comes out of its burrow and sees a shadow it will be frightened and run back underground. If there is no shadow it's time to stay above ground for spring is just around the corner. So every February 2nd since the first official meeting in 1887, there is a trek up to Gobblers Knob - at 3am! -  to greet Punxsutawney Phil as the groundhog is known, followed by great rejoicing feasting and fireworks in the town.

And we thought they just made it up for the film, which is shown every year at the festival.

You have to admire the showmanship of Clymer Freas, turning a complete non-event into an annual bash that brings folks from all over. It's a Godsend for the small community though where the average wage is under £25,000.

And yes, I'm afraid we did buy the T shirt.

This is Phil.

The last two days we've been holed up in the mountains with no cellphone or internet access. Two books read in two days - wonderful!