This morning, our faces warmed by the promise of a perfect day, we rode east on route 6. Into Central Pennsylvania, Magic, Jules and I eased out of the Alleghenies and followed our route to the Grand Canyon.
There is one in PA also known as the Pine Creek Gorge in the Tioga State Forest, and it is quite impressive in its own right. Finding the West Rim road with scant signage, we ascended into Colton State Park. A road like we haven't seen since Colorado, treated us to a memorable ride. Breathless views down a deep ravine reminded us that beauty lives here, too.
At our picnic for the day, the sun prompted Jules to get a full body tan.
Through Wellsboro, one of many towns on this route with Victorian architecture that dominates main streets, we passed the World Famous Wellsboro Diner. So sad we weren't ready for a great piece of pie, we moved on.
Our path drew us into city life as Scranton loomed. Sucked in by poor road signs, we found ourselves looking for Dunder Mifflin and seeing the characters from "The Office" on every street corner. Finally extracting ourselves, we headed to the highway to make it home.
Yes, we are home tonight at Mink Pond, my refuge since I was three. Familiar and welcoming, we drove into its arms as dinner was being served. A night on the lake offered up a nice bass for Jules and a sense of peace and stability for me.
Tonight we sleep in beds we know and through our open window owls, bullfrogs and an occasional coyote welcome us. Tomorrow our family arrives to complete the picture.
Fragments fly through my head at random moments, shocking with weather worn switchbacks having no guardrails or soothing with gentle streams cooling my feet at a noonday picnic. Then the sunsets and sunrises bloom and the fragments form into a whole- our odyssey on which we searched for nothing, expected little and were handed the world.
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