I know I promised a lot of pictures....

from my trip down to Pennsylvania, but it rained and it rained and it rained and it rained. At one point it rained for 18 straight hours.

The two pictures here show quite a contrast between the afternoon I arrived in the Pine Creek Valley and the rest of my time there. The sunny picture depicts the Hotel Manor, which turned out to be a life-saver. Let me explain.

There is a general store in the "village" of Slate run. Village means, a store, which is also a fly shop and a gas station, the Hotel, and a few houses. That's it. As usual, I had carefully planned my camp cooking, meaning I packed a jar of peanut butter and a can of stew. My plan was to load up on supplies at the store. I had been there a few years ago and I recalled it being well stocked. This time, I couldn't find the bread. I asked, where's the bread? It seems the economy isn't doing so well down there. The local bread supplier cut 80-some points of delivery, and you can't buy bread in little places like this in the Allegheny's. However, the good folks at the store are resourceful. They bring in frozen sandwich buns, heat them up daily in a bread oven, and make excellent and generous deli sandwiches. Lunch shopping taken care of.

The weather report called for rain rain rain, and I know from experience just how much fun camp cooking can really be in the rain. In the past there were very few alternatives. There was a place called the Hotel Manor, not the place in the picture, but another place on the same spot, which finally burned down. This place served food as I recall, but it was grim. East Texas Red and I were down in that area a few years ago and we went for a drive looking for a pub. We actually found a place somewhere or other up in the mountains, and went in. There were rattlesnakes stuffed and hanging on plaques on the walls. As I recall, everyone in the bar stopped talking when we walked in, or so it seemed.

Today, the Hotel Manor has been rebuilt, and it caters to fly fishermen. They have a full menu, and the food is pretty good. There is a bar, with trout flies displaced under a plexi surface. There are bamboo rods on the walls. Supper in the rain was now taken care of.

One night, we came out of the Hotel Manor after a late dinner at about 9:30. A fellow in the parking lot said, "Hey buddy, you might want to see this". The road rises above the back of the parking lot, and beyond that there were two big trees and a house. "See there, between the trees...look closely, see...." It was a big sow bear with three cubs, who had been making regular appearances in the area. A couple people climbed up to the road, level with the bear to take photos, even though it was a dark and, yes, rainy night. I thought it was really best to leave mother and cubs alone.

We saw just one deer this trip. This area of Pennsylvania has a lot of deer, and seeing just one is actually unusual. There are copperheads, or timber rattlesnakes through this area as well, but I have never seen one. The folks in the flyshop portion of the general store have a nice photo of one blown up behind the counter. Often I see wild turkeys when I visit these mountains. This time out, I found a turkey primary wing feather on Slate Run but didn't see the birds. I did see a vulture land not far from me on Pine Creek to eat some dead thing. We often see these birds circling in the air but rarely see them land.

So I bought a sandwich and a few supplies a the store, and knowing the state rule, I asked for a camping permit. When in this area, we camp at a very primitive little camping area (no washroom, no anything except a few roughed out campsites and a few picnic tables) seven miles up Slate Run. "I'm sorry, we're not allowed to issue them here anymore". "Where can I get them?" "It's an hour's drive away and they're only
open until 4:00". "But nobody ever checks. Maybe I can just camp without a permit" "If they check and you don't have one, you could be fined". The folks in the store were actually very helpful. They faxed a camping permit application to whoever was allowed to issue them, then they called and asked them to fax back the permit right away, which they did. Armed with my official Pennsylvania camping permit, I sallied forth, up Slate Run road and set up camp. Naturally, no self-respecting camping permit checking officer would be out in the rain making sure nobody was illegally camped in a barely used campground that isn't even on the local maps.

The next morning, after a few hours chasing trout on Slate Run, I drove to the general store to get a sandwich and a bottle of iced tea and some ice and a few trout flies. When I emerged from the store, I saw the familiar Subaru I had been waiting for. Idaho Ken had rolled into town. Ken is a writer, editor and fly fisherman from Idaho Falls. East Texas Red and I have known and fly fished with him for years. It is rare that Idaho Ken makes an appearance in the east, but he was "back home" on family business and decided to check out some trout streams while in the state. I had been looking forward to seeing him, and East Texas Red as well. I used to work with East Texas Red, but now he lives near Ottawa and we don't see one another so often these days.

Then the rain started. Did I mention the rain?.....