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| Big. |
We spent the night in the car park of Ye old Dog House in Allenville. A local chap had gained permission for us from the owner - people here are generally extremely helpful. The road through Big Valley was pretty quiet for most of the night, but then around five in the morning the thundering lorries started rocking our bus. People start their days pretty early in the US.
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| Sweeping the drive at 6:00am |
We set off to the end of route 355, (or as the satnav says: "rout 355") and stopped at a dairy to purchase some goats cheese and milk. The couple inside were wearing the traditional dress, which meant the fellow had an incongruous white hairnet over his bushy beard. They were fascinated by our English money - fancy having different colours and sizes for different notes! A few yards away two girls were setting up the family stall selling their farm produce. We chatted as we bought some vegetables, and were surprised to learn their older sister had dreams of going to Britain. Why this was they couldn't say, just that she was fascinated by our country. Their horse was in an especially built barn nearby to keep it out of the sun, their beautifully polished trap parked next to it.
We've heard that the Amish aren't too keen on being photographed, so hence no pictures.
The cliffhanger of the lost credit card was just an artificial attempt to introduce some "jeopardy" which wasn't really present - a common technique in film making that rarely has the desired effect in that medium either. A short drive back to the garage and we found a relieved lady cashier who recognised us immediately - the card had been declined three times - and handed it back. I think I'd forgotten it because we'd just filled up with fuel, and I was in a state of shock…
We were next headed for Altoona, for no other reason than it was to the west. On the way we noticed a 'more interesting' side road off the main highway, so we took a left. Coincidentally there was an historic signpost for Fort Roberdeau, so as we weaved our bus around the tight country corners we kept our eyes open. On a long straight stretch of road we completely missed the sign, and confused eight patiently following car drivers as we attempted to turn around.
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| Fort Roberdeau |
Fort Roberdeau was built to defend the early American pioneers from the British, whom we were told by the otherwise excellent guide were 'terrorists', raiding farms and homesteads with the help of the Iroquois Indians.
The site of the fort was discovered in the 1970s, although nothing remained except the underground powder store. So, using prints from etchings of the time it was reconstructed for the US bi-centennial in 1976. The guide was very proud that such an underdeveloped country had managed to defeat the British - the most powerful nation in the world at the time. History has a habit of repeating itself, but I refrained from mentioning Vietnam.
After our tour we wandered round to a log cabin in the nearby woods that we'd been told was being built in the traditional way. There we met Roland. He'd sawn and hewn every log by hand, dressed every stone, and hauled everything into place without using any modern tools.
He was an entertaining chap and chatted for the best part of an hour. We learnt how to dress stone, the joints that were used on these cabins - and why, how food was difficult to find in Wales (he'd visited his ancestral roots), the relative value of crafted horn work, why the ovens were usually outside the cabins (too hot in summer), how the English used power tools and not traditional methods to repair ancient buildings, how the architectural details of this cabin showed the status of the owners (the number of windows), and so on.
We were enthralled, and he offered to meet up with us later for a meal. We were delighted to risk information overload, but unfortunately we couldn't get through to him on our mobile, so it never happened.
That evening, after our usual McDonalds internet fix, we went to a ball game. It was the Altoona Curves v. Baysox - a minor league game that even on a Tuesday evening still attracted a decent crowd. Then we discovered it was a two for one offer on the tickets - and the popcorn. Bonus!
The crowd was a varied lot, ranging from about seven to eighty seven, men and women in almost equal number. It was a real family night out - and with decent seats at around nine dollars an affordable one too. We found our seats and then spent the next three hours or so trying to figure out the rules.
It was entertaining stuff - not a second was left unfilled. As the teams changed around or a new batter arrived, short sponsored one minute games were organised with children from the crowd. Bean bags were thrown through the mouths of cutout cartoon characters, costumes were donned mid race, inflatable rings shed as the children weaved round poles. Throughout all this there were short video clips shown on the gigantic screen behind the pitcher, or musical stings played. The most popular event of all was when free tee shirts were blasted into the crowd from a gas gun operated by an indefinable green thing with a bucket for a head.
Hmm.
It was all fascinating stuff, and we headed off to our bed at the back of the car park clutching our free popcorn - wondering if we'd already been dreaming…
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