The End of Rain? (Day 5-6)

A few hours after checking into the HoJo's, the rain seemed to stop and I started to get upset that I threw in the towel so early in the day... but then the rain came down again and I rejoiced, knowing that I made a wise move.

The next day, I was back on the road by 10am, accompanied with a few short rain showers, but nothing anger-inducing. I passed through Allentown without stopping and continued north-west towards Blue Mountain (1,200 ft.). Before tackling my biggest hill yet, I stopped at a Burger King to get some quick energy food, e.g., Whopper jrs. and Cheesey Tots ... both off the "value menu." But do you know wasn't a value? ...their tap water. "I gotta charge you fifty cents for the cup" the unsympathetic, tight-shirt-wearing manager mumbled. I just shook my head and mentioned our lord's name in vein as I exited the restaurant.

Blue Mountain was tough, but not impossible. Since it was a well-maintained highway, I had a decent shoulder and the grade never got crazy-steep. I had to stop twice along the way... just to catch my breath... but I never had to walk my bike. When I reached the top, my legs were wobbily and my panting was unrelenting, so I hopped off my bike for a short break. Then, when my back was turned, a gust of wind came roaring through, and my bike tipped over and ploughed into the ground with a loud clang! I then screamed many curses, afraid that the impact damaged my rear derailleur again. My loud outburst caught the attention of Ken, the owner/operator of a small restaurant/inn on the top of the mountain. He asked me if I was OK and offered food and drink to calm my nerves. I thanked him, but declined.

I then declined the mountain into the town of Tamaqua. From there, it was in and out of these small pockets of rundown coal-mining towns, which are now nothing more than crumbling housing structures and heaping piles of garbage. By sunset, I made it to the town of Mahanoy City and spent the next hour trying to find out out how to pronouce the town name. As far as I can tell, it's pronounced mah-hah-noy, with the accent on the "ma." My friend Blakeslee found something online that indictaed that locals just say "Mah-noy"... cutting out that middle syllable... but from the ten or so folks I talked to that day, no one said it that way.



The next day it was more hills, up and down, up and down. I went through Shenandoah (which had a coal miners memorial), Ashland, Centrilia, Mt. Carmel and then into the great-sounding town name of Shamokin, PA. (Pronouced Shah-moh-kin!) This old coal-mining town used to be a bustling hotspot in the area with a population of over 47 thousand, but now only has around 20 thousand and not much in the way of an industry or even a personality. From Shamokin, I went up and around the Seven Points mountains and arrived at the town of Sunbury. Funny thing, when I walked through Sunbury back in 2001, I got many rude and obnoxious comments screamed at me from folks in passing cars, which usually sounded like "Blah-dee-arg-ha-ha-haaaa!" And this time around, even on a bike, I got 3 or 4 obnoxious outbursts from passing cars. Most were unintelligible, except for one guy who took the time to stick his head out the passenger window and shout, "Hey, nice bike... faggot." I didn't know how to respond, so I just yelled back, "I have a suspicion that your sentiment towards my bike is not entirely sincere." The guy just stared at me blankly as his partner drove him away and over the horizon.

On main street of Sunbury, I met a guy named Edward who was out walking his dogs, one of which was quite disturbed by my large pack and bike trailer and basicaly howled at me several times. A local alchy by the dollar store joined in with the howling. Edward was a muscular, big-necked, talkative fellow and -- not unlike my friend Ray in Emmaus -- it was a little difficult to extricate myself from the conversation. But he seemed like an affable enough man (despite the fact that he was a security guard at the local mall) who liked to use his dogs as a conversation-piece. He wished me well and I pedaled by the howling bum by the dollar store.

From Sunbury, I cycled another 6-7 miles to the small town of Chillisquaque where I set up my tent for the night in a patch of weeds by the river... just out of view of passing cars. Chillisquaque. Now you try and figure out how to pronouce that!