It has been raining since the moment I woke up about 14 hours ago, and it shows no sign of letting up. In a moment of relative lightness, I have rescued my computer from the truck and I sit at a campground whose name I can’t remember. It’s been that kind of a day. Give me a moment to look it up: Round Top Campground.
I have journeyed from Port Jervis, NY (a town whose depressed community is desperate for change) to Gettysburg, PA, and a town that is clearly living in the past and thriving on it. But the journey, not the destination, is the story of this day. I decided to leave on this day to avoid the flooding that is accompanying this torrential downpour that is leaving two to four inches of rain throughout the entire east coast. In other words, I’ve been heading for the hills!
Most of the trip has been along Interstate 81, through Pennsylvania’s Appalachian Mountains. And while I encountered no flooding, at least until I settled into my campsite, the fog created by the melting mountain snow has been thick and sometimes terrifying. There were many times along the highway where I could barely see more than a car length ahead and I slowed down and put on my emergency flashers in hopes that the vehicles behind me wouldn’t crash into Vagabond2011, my small travel trailer. I was very tempted to cut short my day’s journey when I passed through the Hershey area but certainly going to the park would be a wet waste.
As I passed through Hazelton, it brought back memories from the 1960s. My friend Bill’s parents were dying and I drove him in my Ford Falcon to pick up his aunts and take them back to New Jersey to help with the family. It was the first time I had driven on an Interstate highway in the rain and I desperately coped with the never ending flow of water washing off eighteen-wheelers as well as the rain itself. The weather for both days was remarkably similar.
The experience didn’t kill me so I suppose I am stronger. At least I feel far more comfortable handling the trailer. What was supposed to be about a five hour trip was close to seven hours and I arrived at the national monument around 4 p.m., too late for the last two-hour bus tour. The rain let up for about fifteen minutes at the time of my arrival and I was able to grab a few quick photos and gather information. I was given directions to the ¼ mile walk to the site where Abraham Lincoln gave the famous Gettysburg Address. But as I started out, the downpour resumed so I headed back to my truck, getting soaked along the way.
The town itself seems to be deliberately quaint. There is a small circle in its middle and you can head in about six directions. There are no institutions like fast food joints and big box stores in this town, and the motels have a muted brick façade that fits in easily. After all, people come to Gettysburg to view history and the residents are here to find ways to part them from their money. There are many museums, art galleries, antique stores and shops such as those specializing in civil war toy soldiers and other souvenirs are interspersed with various restaurants and lodging facilities with historic names such as the Iron Horse Inn, the Dobbin House Tavern, General Pickett’s Buffet and the Battlefield Bread and Breakfast. There are several competing bus tours and you can even rent a Segway.
One of the rangers recommended the RV park I am in because she said it was the only one she knew for sure was open at this time of the year. Many do not open until April. It’s not very much to look at for the moment. It is packed with trailers without trucks, apparently permanent or winter residents. I have seen only a few people around and there is no green on the ground nor in trees as winter is still very much here. Of course the downpour adds to the gloomy atmosphere.
For some reason, the office closed early today, at noon, so my 4:30 p.m. arrival left me fending for myself. I filled out an envelope, placing $35 in cash into it. As I did so, a pizza delivery driver asked if I had change of a $50, which I didn’t since I was tying most of it up in the envelope. The place was so dreary; I was tempted to give him the change instead. But I chose to tour the place. With the weather showing no sign of easing up, I hoped to find a spot but everything was of the back-in kind. The last time I backed into an RV site, it took nearly two hours for me to figure out how to back up. I was about to leave when I realized a deserted group of sites, actually right in front of the showers, were pull through sites. I moved into one site and stopped but found I could not connect to the electric system since I was too far away from the box. Rather than back up, I went around the circle again and came within an inch the second time. I plugged in and headed for the trailer to change clothes and microwave a leftover burger for my dinner.
I took a nap and woke up to the sound of silence. Instead of the constant beating of water on my roof, there was no noise and I took advantage of the break to drop off my registration envelope and check out the bathroom and showers. It began to rain again and now the hooks on my bathroom door are drying out two changes of clothing. This time the rain included some thunder and lightning. I hoped the storm would not spawn tornados, as it had done earlier in the week in the Midwest. I’d been through a couple of tornados many years ago and the thought of being in a trailer when one hits is not at all very appealing.
Anyway, the heat is keeping me comfy and it’s time to try to sleep. If the rains have eased enough, I’ll go for a walk tomorrow and then travel on to Western Virginia where I hope to meet a friend who lives in the Shenandoah Valley, and perhaps see a sign of Spring, before moving on towards some warmer weather.
