With Harold-the-RV finally out of the hospital, we were back in business. But where to next?

As long as we full-time RV, the standing plan each year is to go home for Thanksgiving and Christmas. But being early September, we still had time to play with. Visiting friends in Michigan was one idea. Another was a return trip to Tennessee to explore more of this popular state — we barely clipped its SE corner in the spring when we visited Chattanooga. So many possibilities. What should we do?

In the end, it was a phone call from Sacramento that made our decision for us.

Our daughter and son-in-law, Kate and Caleb (and grandsons Henry/Ollie, too) are in the middle of raising funds to become full-time missionaries with Send International, a gospel oriented ministry based in Europe. In their case, they are heading to Madrid. The exact timing for their move to Spain is uncertain. Regardless, Lois and I have been ready and willing to be there for Kate and Caleb during their final preparations, in particular helping them labor through the process of selling their house and moving into a temporary apartment. So as we waited in Connecticut for Harold-the-RV’s repairs, the anticipated call for help came. Just like that, it was time to criss-cross the country and return to Sacramento. With that decision made, we left Connecticut.

“Westward Ho!”

Driving Through the Poconos

There are (obviously) many ways to get from New England to California. The path we chose was a diagonal route through Pennsylvania and West Virginia, eventually connecting us to I-40 in Tennessee, one of the main arteries to the West Coast.

And so we began.

Leaving Connecticut, we cut across Upstate New York and wound our way along the Delaware river and the edge of Pennsylvania’s Poconos mountains. Even though there was no time in our schedule to explore this beautiful area, it was nonetheless a very scenic drive. Interestingly, more than once we had the opportunity to cross a rural bridge and lay claim to an unvisited state, New Jersey on the other side of the Delaware River. Generally speaking, Lois and I don’t feel compelled to punch the “visited all 50 states” ticket, so we kept to the Pennsylvania side of the river, spending the night in Stroudsburg, PA.

Pennsylvania Dutch Country, Part 2

Lucky for us, we were able to spend a few more days in the Amish Country near Lancaster, PA — our second visit this year.. I’ll spare you the details, but needless to say, we were wowed once again by its scenic beauty. With fall quickly approaching, leaves were turning colors, adding to the natural glory of this very peaceful corner of Pennsylvania.

Click Images to Enlarge

The Pennsylvania Appalachians

From Lancaster (just west of Philadelphia), we traversed the width of Pennsylvania to a small town east of Pittsburgh. Little did we know our journey would take us across the breadth of the Appalachians.

As in other parts of the Appalachians, this mountain range is made up of repeating north-south ridges sandwiched between valleys on either side. In Virginia they call it the Blue Ridge mountains,. And in Tennessee, some of the highest Appalachian ridges make up the Great Smoky Mountains. For this reason, regardless of where you cross this mountain range, the experience is much the same. East-west highways take you up and over dozens of ridges, dumping you again and again into a valley just the other side.

In the case of Pennsylvania, this up-down cycle goes on for a couple of hundred miles. Maybe to breakup the challenge, or perhaps just for fun, every so often the state sneaks in a tunnel connecting one valley to the next. These mountain short-cuts were always a welcome relief for Harold-the-RV and Irving-the-Car, our hefty 8 ton motorhome/car combo. 😮‍💨

As we neared our RV Park in Champion, PA, we were surprised, yet happy, to discover hundreds of American flags on display. Eventually, we put it all together as we began noticing signs for the nearby 9-11 “Flight 93” crash site. This US Park Service National Memorial preserves the hallowed grounds where 40 passengers and crew sacrificed their lives to stop a likely attack on the U.S. Capitol.

So just like that, we made plans to visit the memorial. But the best was yet to come. It wasn’t until the next morning that it finally dawned on us that our spontaneous trip to the memorial just so happened to fall on September 11th, the 24th anniversary of Flight 93’s fateful crash. What a privilege it was to join hundreds of others to recount the horrors 0f 9-11 and celebrate the brave men and women who gave their lives for others.

West Virginia and the New River Gorge

Next stop… Fayetteville, WV, home of the famed New River Gorge Bridge and its surrounding National Park preserve. This bridge is:

A single span structure underpinned by a 1700 foot arch
85 stories above the New River
Two narrow-ish lanes each direction

Hmm… What could possibly go wrong?

As it turns out, Lois and I had most of that day to ponder this question. For more than 3 hours we wound up and down the scenic West Virginia Appalachians. It was only when we were a few miles from that night’s RV Park that we finally approached the New River Gorge. To our surprise, the bridge sneaks up on you. Strange but true, only a couple of hundred yards from the gorge we still couldn’t see it!

Then suddenly, in a blink of an eye, the dense forest and ever present hills vanished. Just like that, Lois and I were crossing a narrow 4 lane bridge, bombing down the highway at 65 MPH with the river nearly 900 feet below. Palms sweating and trying not to look left or right at the nothingness, I was overwhelmed by a rush of anxiety. It sparked at the tip of my noggin, then flowed through my stomach and the nether regions below.

Wow! It’s a good thing I didn’t pass out, else I might have launched ourselves over the edge, hurtling us like a gigantic meteor towards the rocks below. During our final moments, I can imagine Lois and I crying out in song to God

“Swing low, sweet chariot,
coming for to carry me home!” 🎵

But in our case, there would be no “Chariot of Fire” to spare us that day… more like “Great Balls of Fire” 🎵 instead.