Blakeslee, Bloomburg, R.B. Wynter State Park

campground fairly early. Actually, we probably would have left an hour earlier, but I couldn't find my bicycle odometer. I've been riding with one for almost two years now, and every night, I take it off my bike. I've never lost it. But that morning, I couldn't find it. I was really bummed. I made us all wait while I searched the campground and even opened up the tent, after Eric and I had rolled it up. It was gone.

That morning, we were on great back roads near Freeland when we started noticing a lot of cyclists. First four, then five, then a whole parade. None of them carried much luggage -- maybe a handlebar bag.

Then, just after we crossed a river that I forget the name of, we ran into two cyclists, who apparently were bringing up the rear of a 191-cyclist parade across the state of Pennsylvania. They were riding from Erie, way in the northwest part of the state, to Philadelphia. They were each paying $600. That sounded steep to me, but it included sag wagon services, lodging in schools and churches, and four meals a day for 11 days. So maybe it's not such a bad deal.

They were dog tired, and we needed a rest ourselves, so we stopped and talked to them on the side of the road for about 30 minutes. The woman was a real estate agent from near Pittsburgh. After two years of traveling, Eric and I didn't have a dime in our pockets, but I wanted to know if there are still fire stations for sale in Pittsburgh. She said there were. In fact, she knew of one near Pittsburgh that was going for $58,000. I thought that didn't sound bad. Eric interrupted my reverie. "That's $59,000 more than we have," he said. Party pooper.

They let us know we were in for a big hill. And it's true, we were. But we made it, and stopped for lunch in a town called Coyningham. There were lots of great looking restaurants but they were all closed until dinner. So we went with a low-key looking Italian style cafeteria. They had great food. Katy got a large pile of rigatoni. There was so much that she carried the leftovers around for the rest of the day, and we all had a second snack at dinner time.

The Italian place said it had hosted a 10 a.m. meal for the 191 cyclists. Actually, the cyclists were supposed to arrive at 10:30 a.m., but they started rolling in early. When we arrived, no one else was there. They must have been really tired.

[ERIC: After Coyningham, we were rewarded with one of the prettiest rides in Pennsylvania. Dad sent us the PA Gazateer, a large atlas of PA with all the backroads and some topographical information. A couple days earlier I had spotted this valley on the map as an interesting place to ride and I was right. We rode through in the evening when the sun was low and the sky very deep blue. The tree covered ridges on either side of the road glowed in the sunlight. Most intriguing about the valley was that at the end, it follows a creek that cuts right through the enormous ridge that had been on our right, saving us a big hill.]

Just when we thought we had out foxed the hills, we got to a fork in the road. I can't remember whose brilliant decision it was. Probably mine. Instead of following a river right into our destination, a campground just south of Bloomsburg, we decided to take a shorter route. Whenever you leave the river to take a shortcut, you end up going over a mountain. I learned this the hard way in northern Czech. But apparently I didn't really learn it.

As we started climbing, just three miles from Bloomsburg, I joked that we had to climb another 500 feet that day. I didn't think we really would. We really did. We were all in severe pain. Katy did not look happy. We crested the hill just before dark, rode down to the impressive Susquehanna River, and then had to ride past Bloomsburg and continue several miles south. We entered the campground via an old covered bridge that is closed to car traffic.

As I was checking into the campground, the lady at the cash register asked where we were riding from. I told her that Eric and I had been riding for two years, and that the three of us had been riding together for a few days, from New York City. The lady was totally impressed. She said she was giving us a discount. So she charged us $16.25 for a campground for three. It was really nice of her, but I had to wonder how expensive the place could be without the discount.

When I told Katy, she said that just comfirmed her theory that Eric's and my bike ride is a million-dollar story. A lot of people who hear about it want to take us home, buy us beers and give us discounts. It's a sweet way to live. I wonder how long we can milk it for.

That night I got a sweet surprise. When we set up our tents, I unrolled our Thermarests and found ... my altimeter.

[ERIC: Before breakfast the next day we rode a flat and wonderful 10 miles or so along the Susquehanna (though we rarely saw the river through the trees). We counted lawn balls and trampolines in the yards. The trampolines we were way ahead. In Danville we encountered Iron Heritage days. The main street was closed to traffic and booths were being set up all over the place but things weren't quite in full swing just yet. We asked for a good greasy spoon for breakfast and made one of the great diner finds of the whole trip. We got our five breakfast specials (two breakfasts each for me and Eric, just one for Katy). The waitress was really friendly and interested in our adventures. Unfortunately I don't remember the name of the place. I'm sorry we left before the Iron Heritage party (our waitress thought this a weird name for the town bash and so do I) because I liked Danville.]

Next was Lewisburg. I had to write and email a column, so I was hoping that we could find a hotel there. I was hoping it would look like a nice place to stay for a few days. It did. Lewisburg is a great town. It has a nice bar and a bunch of yuppie shops. It also has hotels, but they're more like B&B's. It's basically a resort town for the Poconos.

The place was just a little too expensive for us, so after lingering in the bar and then and Ice Cream store, we decided to ride just a short way up a huge mountain, and camp near the top, at R.B. Wynter State Park.

It was a massive climb. So were all our days in Pennsylvania. But it turns out, nothing was as hard as what we had already done--crossing New Jersey into eastern Pennsylvania. We just took our time on our way to RB Wynter. At the top, we were so exhausted we collapsed right near the park's greeting sign, and only stirred to snack on peanut M&Ms.

From there, we were a little confused. We rode forward, by a gorgeous lake, and found a park office. But it was closed for the day. So we looked at a map posted at the office, and doubled back to the campground. We rode in on a narrow gravel road, and stopped to talk to the campground hosts. The man worked at a bakery, and I think the woman was a school bus driver.

The hosts told us that we were supposed to register first. Seeing we were on bikes, they told us to just go ahead and set up, and when we were done, they'd give us a ride to the office.

So while Eric and I set up, Katy rode her bike back down to the campground host site. They drove her in their truck to the office. They knew no one would be there, but they figured we could pick up a self-pay envelope. The office was out of envelopes. So the hosts drove Katy back to the camp. In fact, they drove her and her bike right up to our tent site, and gave us a loaf of bread (they run a bakery as well as being campground hosts), because they were impressed with how far we had all ridden. Katy said that was more proof that we had a million dollar story. We needed that white bread.

That was the first night we arrived at camp with plenty of daylight left. [ERIC: previously we had done a remarkable job of always arriving at dusk.] So after we set up our tent, we took a walk down to the lake. The campsite didn't have any showers, but the host said we could swim in the lake. Gamely, Katy and Eric waded in. Usually I'm not chicken in these situations, but somehow, even a day's worth of sweat and bike grease didn't encourage me to go all the way in the water. I think I got my ankles wet. Katy and Eric just went into their waists.

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