The Morgantowner: Clarion County, Pennsylvania

I was sick last week. Feeling strong, I overdid the gym Friday last week (June 8), then rode my bike Saturday in too-warm weather for two hours, instead of my usual hour and twenty minutes. That afternoon, Joe and I went to a picnic sponsored by Mountaineers For Progress at White Park in Morgantown. I talked to a lot of people and ate all kinds of food. I was speaking with someone when I started to feel dizzy. We sat down as the conversation ended, then suddenly I was so dizzy I didn't think I could stand, and I thought I would wet and dump in my pants and throw up all at once. I made it to the nearby restroom, didn't throw up, and started to feel better. I missed having my picture taken with the group.

I stayed home Sunday and rested up, but planned to leave on this trip to Clarion County, about a hundred miles northeast of Pittsburgh, by Wednesday. At the gym Monday, I told my trainer what had happened, and I mentioned that I don't take my every-other-day diuretic when traveling, because it's hard to find a place to pee on short notice. She said " Oh, that might not be a good idea."

Wednesday was a water pill day, so I took one in the morning and hoped for the best, driving up back roads to Clarion. Fifteen minutes out, I was desperate and stopped in the little grocery store in Point Marion, the first town in Pennsylvania north of us on US 119. A nice young man, tall and heavy set working there led me to the employees restroom. I was grateful, and bought a Cliff's Bar and a pack of gum. I noticed the kid was wearing a t-shirt that said "Calabasas, CA 91302." I asked if he had been there, and he said "No, but Kanye West lives there." So this was about fandom from a dorky teen, probably about the music and not the politics. We talked a bit about California, his dreams of living in a big house in a wealthy Los Angeles suburb, and our mutual history of living in Florida. You never know.

It was about 135 miles from our house in Morgantown to the motel just south of Clarion. It took about four and a half hours, stopping a total of six times to pee. Remind me not to do that again. I was still feeling weak, but I was still wearing a recommended sunscreen to keep my basal cell skin cancer from recurring.

I thought I would try the food court in Clarion Mall before checking in to the motel, but there was no food court, only a "steakhouse" restaurant. Most of the storefronts in the mall were empty; there is a J.C. Penney store and a discount clothing store, which I checked out. I was immediately greeted by a worker there, who helped me find a lightweight jacket like the one I looked for last month in Chesterfield. We found one, an unknown brand, made in China, and a little heavier than I would have wanted. It was $19.99, and there is no tax on clothes in Pennsylvania, so took it. The stock guy said "It looks like you all day." It was after two and I hadn't eaten much, so I headed to the fast food place in the parking lot, got a grilled chicken sandwich and an iced tea, unsweet, to tide me over.

There are only five places on the National Register in Clarion County, and no synagogue. The historic courthouse is in the center of town, facing a park with monuments to the soldiers in the American Wars since the Civil War, with a historic house, open for tours, across the park. It was refreshing to see a monument to Union soldiers. I visited for only a few minutes before realizing I was exhausted and had to pee. I was also feeling a little unsteady. I checked into the motel and slept for an hour, catching up on my online presence for a bit, including e-mails and phone calls about the Haymaker Forest, a plot of land City Council might buy, and the most controversial thing we've done in our year in office. I didn't answer anyone.

Across from the mall and just south of the motel I saw "Sakura Buffet" and as is my custom, I tried it out for dinner. This was better than most of the Asian buffets I've visited, and since my weight has been down (not more than five pounds from my peak) I tried to take it easy. I still had a plateful of desserts, though, including two small scoops of ice cream. I'm not a saint. It was pouring down rain when I left the buffet, and there was a 7:30 showing of "Solo" at the mall across the way for $4.95. With digital projection, there are no more bad movie theaters. Still, there was nearly two hours until sunset, and the sky didn't look especially dark. I decided to check out the town, thinking the weather might clear up.

The rain did clear up and I saw a rainbow over Main St. I stopped at Clarion University, a few blocks east of the courthouse, and toured the campus. In town, I found an early twentieth century public library, a bookstore (closed) with lots of lefty posters and stickers in the window. This in a county that voted 72% for Trump. The Chamber of Commerce is located in an old mansion. It was 8:30 before I got back to the room. I watched some of MSNBC, but was bored, so I re-updated my online presence and went to bed.

I had three more places on the National Register to find Wednesday before heading back to Morgantown. A small county less than two hundred miles away only gets an overnight. Two of the places were at the far western end of the county: Buchanan Furnace, an early iron furnace, supposedly built by James Buchanan before he became President, and Foxburg Golf Course, the oldest golf course in continuous use in the United States, since 1887.

I headed out after a motel breakfast, minus the sunscreen, which has an odor to it, and, as it occurred to me during the night, might be making me ill. The "Country Roads" in Pennsylvania seem to be in better shape than those in West Virginia, and I found a historic marker for the Buchanan Furnace, but not the place itself. After the rain, it was cool, sunny and pretty out. I found the golf course, and met the manager, a guy in his sixties in a polo shirt and shorts, who told me the story of his life. They have a golf museum in the house you will see in the pictures, but the Professional Association won't recognize it. Despite the beautiful weather, I didn't see many people out. The manager said people come from Clarion, and also from Butler County, just north of Pittsburgh.

My next stop was Cook Forest State Park, at the opposite end of Clarion County, about twenty miles away. The forest was proposed as a park in 1910, but enabling legislation wasn't passed until 1927. The white pine and hemlock forest, considered the finest in the East is called "The Cathedral" and there are trails all through it. It is a National Natural Landmark and, according to National Geographic, one of America's top 50 state parks. The Indian Cabins, built by the Civilian Conservation Corps in the 1930s, is listed as a historic,. I missed getting a pic. I spoke to a young woman at the visitor's center, and we decided I could do a short walk on one of the less-difficult trails. Lots of people were out hiking in the forest, the more out of shape on the flattest trail by a stream and other people climbing the hills. I did some of each. It was cool and breezy, with white spores of pollen, blowing like snow through the air. I said a prayer of gratitude for the steroid medications I have for my nose and mouth that prevent sneezing and wheezing, and allow me to enjoy nature. I couldn't help thinking about Haymaker Forest, on the south end of Morgantown, not as dramatic as Cook, but still a wondrously beautiful place. Our Council would be loved forever if it could be developed with hiking trails for the public.

I got back into town just after noon. I went back to the bookstore, now open. In the entrance was a record player spinning a Lou Reed album. I felt "at home." The store sells used books, new and old comics and some records. I spoke with the owner J.V. Miller, a transplant from Binghamton, New York. His wife teaches writing at Clarion, and he has a book of short stories, which I bought, along with a new DC Comic, "Man of Steel #1" some kind of Superman remake. Miller says there is a lefty element in Clarion, and a rabbi out in the country who writes poetry. Who knew?

I said goodbye and went for lunch at "Michelle's Place," a little restaurant with soup and wrap specials. I only had a bagel (not a real bagel) with cream cheese and an unsweet peach ginger iced tea, the daily special. The place is cozy, with tables and chairs and sofas; a good spot to hang out.

I drove home after 1:20, the quickest way, thirty miles longer, and taking an hour less time. Without the pill, I didn't need to stop so much, although I may have a tire problem (or perhaps just a tire gauge problem). I stopped twice to check the air pressure in the tires. I was home in time for Joe and I to attend a potluck and meeting of Mountaineers for Progress. Joe had cooked macaroni and cheese with broccoli from a Weight Watchers recipe. Everyone asked if I was okay, and I was able to say honestly "I feel fine, thanks."