This is one of several stories in the 
February 2005 issue of  folio:

In the last issue of folio, we detailed our book tour of Pennsylvania, featuring our reprint of A Complete Official Road Guide of the Lincoln Highway, Fifth Edition, 1924. This is the last and most fascinating of the five road guides published by the original Lincoln Highway Association, and we knew that the wizards of the Pennsylvania press, and the eighty-four members of the LHA in that state would be delighted to learn about the book. Some seventy news releases were sent to media across the state, and postcards listing the complete schedule were sent to all members in the Keystone State.

Sales through our appearance in Chambersburg, the halfway point, totaled about one-tenth the expenses. Did we quit? No way

People driving Route 30 from Chambersburg to Bedford will notice a gradual change in the scenery. More orchards and farmlands first, as we near the site of old Fort Loudon, followed by the beautiful passage over the Alleghenies to the west. We pulled in to the site of Fort Loudon, not really knowing what to expect. What we found was a stockade a bit larger than a typical living room, and absolutely nothing in it. There is a nearby marker, identifying the site, now marked with a replica of the stockade built by the British in 1756, as a defensive position during the French and Indian War.

Old Fort Loudon

The first hill west of Fort Loudon is Tuscarora Mountain, and US 30 does a lot of twisting as it follows the route of the old Lincoln Highway to the summit. Now we are in the basin-and-range country of western Pennsylvania, and also the six-county area of the state-funded Pennsylvania Lincoln Highway Heritage Corridor. Now we see the Lincoln marked with the familiar red, white, and blue markers used since 1914. We drove through McConnellsburg, and then up Scrub Ridge hill to the west.

We stopped at a row of red tourist cabins, "Shorty’s Place," where the tiny buildings are seen abandoned, gaping holes in their roofs. Then Ray’s Hill, where a remnant of the Forbes Road runs behind a long-abandoned stagecoach stop and tavern. We stopped there, wandered from the new highway to the old, and as we were returning to the car a battered pickup pulled over and stopped. The cheerful greeting went something like this: "What the hell do you think you’re doing here?" We responded that we were looking at the Forbes Road. "This here’s private proppity!" shouted our host. We observed that we didn’t see a "No Trespassing" sign. "It’s right thar!" he yelled, pointing to the grass. And sure enough, there was a sign, laying face down. He picked it up and shoved it upright in the dirt. We drove off. Should have asked if he wanted to buy a book, I guess.

We booked into an older motel in Bedford, the Motel Townhouse, forty bucks and not quite worth it, but it was recommended in the AAA Tour Book. We had some trouble hooking the laptop up to AOL, but the woman at the desk said we could only get the local number by dialing an 8 first.

It had been eleven years since I had been in Bedford, during the charter conference of our new Lincoln Highway Association. I remember driving along the beautiful Juniata River—still just as pretty. I do not remember seeing the Bedford Springs resort. We found it—more than a block long, several stories high, and now a total derelict. We saw the Coffee Pot, abandoned at the time but since moved across Route 30 and completely restored and open for business, thanks to Olga Herbert and her Pennsylvania Lincoln Highway Heritage Corridor staff.

The Bedford Springs Resort

Good program that night. About three dozen folks, I guess, who bought a grand total of $54 worth of books. Wow!

We thought we were doing all right, making about fourteen bucks more than our lodging costs. But then there was the matter of about fifty bucks worth of food, and when we checked out of the motel we were presented with an additional charge of $58 for long-distance telephone charges. "But we didn’t make any long-distance calls!" I whined. The manager explained that when we dial 8 first, as we had to do in accessing AOL, it is a long-distance call, even though the number called is right there in the city of Bedford.

Whatever you do, dear reader, stay the hell away from Bedford’s Motel Townhouse.

West of Bedford we passed the site of the Grandview Point Ship Hotel, which had burned in October 2001. Probably the most recognized landmark on the Lincoln Highway, the Ship Hotel was built in 1932 and became a mecca for Lincoln Highway tourists until World War 2. Now we saw a mass of blackened wreckage—a total loss for the uninsured owner.

The Ship Hotel

We headed over Bald Knob Summit and looked ahead—there is the famous "Seven Mile Stretch," a popular view for postcard collectors. We checked it out. A bit over 5.5 miles. Then we sailed through Reel’s Corners. Name sound familiar? Just a few miles southwest of here, on 9/11/01, a gang of demented religious murderers were overpowered by a courageous group of passengers on Flight 93. The plane crashed here, and all aboard died. It is believed now that it had been headed for the U.S. Capitol in Washington, D.C. Work is proceeding for a suitable permanent memorial for the heroes at the site.

We proceeded to Greensburg and to the local public library. Here we met Wib and Margie Albright, and soon John and Stephanie Harman—wonderful Lincoln Highway friends. They rounded up a good group of people—probably twenty folks—and we had a nice program. $70, by cracky.

And a real treat after the program—our friends took us to the famous Mountain View Inn in Greensburg, easily the most elegant dining experience in western Pennsylvania.

Day of rest? No way. No program, but this Sunday would be a day of fascinating tourism—off the Lincoln Highway. The Harmans drove us to Fallingwater, about fifty miles south of Greensburg, and we were able to tour the world-famous house of that name. Designed by Frank Lloyd Wright for the Kaufmann family of Pittsburgh in the 1930s, it was built over the rushing Bear Run River. It could be the most famous work of residential architecture in the world.

Fallingwater

From Falling Water we drove south on Pa. 381 to the little town of Ohiopyle and the Falls of the Youghiogheny River. And still farther south to Braddock’s Grave—burial place of the British general, wounded in a battle at the Forks, present Pittsburgh, in 1755. The retreating British carried their general here, where he died.

One does not go into western Pennsylvania with a guy like John Harman and lack for historical information. From the falls we proceeded onto the Fort Necessity National Battlefield. Harman explained that George Washington, only 22 but a colonel in the British colonial army, commanded a British force against the French. Overwhelmed by the French, he surrendered his hastily built fort on July 3, 1754. Enuf history? Nope, not yet.

The highway we were on happened to be the old National Road, and this is the most noted stretch of it in the country. It’s well marked, and we could feel the Power of Place. Actually, we could feel a lot more than that—ravenous hunger. Ahead on the right was the ancient Stone House Tavern, and long after the dinner hour they were still open.

Without a doubt, this Sunday was a wonderfully enjoyable day. Good history, good friends, good pasta.

Back to work. We powered our way through Pittsburgh, and down the right bank of the Ohio to tiny Avalon, where we had a program in the public library. And what a library! They put us in the boardroom, with lots of executive-type chairs and a huge board table. "But where will we put all the people?" we asked. No problem. Less than a dozen showed up to grace those cushy chairs. A whopping $47 from Avalon.

Last stop—Beaver, on down the river toward Ohio. There is a gorgeous linear park in Beaver, less than a block from the library, where stood a Revolutionary era fort overlooking the broad river. Lotta water down there and, looking up, lotta water up there, too. Still, maybe eighteen or twenty good people showed up, despite a horrendous thunderstorm booming away outside. One final crash of lightning and everything went dark. Including the slide projector. Well, we were within a couple of frames of being done anyway. We added the $57 from Beaver to the total take for the twelve programs: $1,011.90. Total expenses: $4,310.10.

We are now starting work on the sixth volume of our series, The Lincoln Highway: California. When that one is done, late this year or early in 2006, we will have finished the Lincoln Highway in the West, with individual books in print for Iowa, Nebraska, Wyoming, Utah, Nevada, and California. Then we return to the Mississippi River to prepare west-to-east volumes for Illinois, Indiana, Ohio, and New York-New Jersey. Did we miss Pennsylvania? Fancy that.

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