9/29/09: I had an easy travel day from Buckeye Lake into Pennsylvania. I knew that I wanted to camp in a state forest. In 2005, heading home on a motorcycle trip from Toronto, I came through an area of Western Pennsylvania to the North of Pittsburgh. The forests were majestic, and I'd always wanted to return. So after reviewing the atlas, and seeing so many state parks throughout Pennsylvania, I found something off the beaten path that looked promising. I called the park and was assured there would be no problem finding a primitive site. It had been cold and wet recently. I didn't hear the ranger tell me anything about the construction taking place at the park.
There were many, many rolling hills on the winding back roads through central PA. It was truly pretty countryside. I passed a number of horse-drawn carriages piloted by the Amish farmers. When I arrived at the park in the early evening, the ranger station was closed but another ranger drove up and we chatted. I found that there would be construction in the area, but there were many sites available and some were prime sites. The ranger was interested in Ellie Mae, (my teardrop trailer), and also said he's stop by my camp to hear some bluegrass guitar picking. I wasn't sure if he played as well or not. I found the camping area and saw some construction equipment, but without any hesitation, I set up camp at a great site, close to hot showers. This would be a great few days! I took a shower, made dinner and turned in for the night.
At dawn, no, it was actually before sunrise, every conceivable piece of construction equipment erupted in a cacophony that I thought would tear the needles off the pines. The paint on the trailer may have loosened from the racket created by all the gas-powered chain saws, hydraulic jack-hammers, roaring diesel backhoes, diggers, shovels, trucks and tractors. This moment was one of those times I'd wished I'd made the trailer just a few inches taller. As I sat upright in the bunk, I crashed into the roof-beam with unusual force. Though this happened occasionally, this morning I had to check for blood.
On the bright side, it was a great night, and I'd just have to go to the ranger station and see if there were other campsites in the area. The Penn-Roosevelt S.P. was suggested and I found it fairly easily. I first tried to get out to the park on the beemer, but was rather chilled and after 5 miles of dirt road, I turned back to the ranger station for detailed directions. The best move at that time was to load up the Ellie Mae and head back out the dirt road to the park. I pulled into an empty park at a lake with great primitive tent sites. I and was cautioned by signs that this was "tent-camping only". At first, I positioned the trailer and truck and began to set up. I walked down to the pay-station and found an envelope that reminded me again that this area was for tent-camping only. Now they had my attention. Fearing removal after getting set-up, I decided to had back out to the ranger station. This was not a short haul. It was some 20 miles of dirt and paved roads through lovely forested areas, but still, and hour long drive. I was able negotiate a couple of nights with Ellie, and headed back to camp. The rangers were very accomodating and thought that I would have a minimum impact on the area being Ellie was so small. There's indeed something about a home-made teardrop trailer that just speaks, "innocent". There were many people I met on this trip that had an interest in my trailer. Most people had positive things to say, and were a bit envious. Ellie is certainly not a Prevost, but she goes places and hauls stuff the Prevost would certainly fail at.
Here's a picture of my Penn-Roosevelt campsite. (PIC)
I spent 3 nights at this site. It was some of the most memorable time of the trip.
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