We stayed on route 30 all day today. The early stretch was literally on the highway, and not much fun. Things settled down after about 20 miles, then a huge hill over 5 miles long. Hills here rival some of the relentless mountain regions through Colorado. The entrance to the Flight 93 National Memorial is right off route 30, and we made a planned stop. You have to wind your way through a paved road flanked by wild flowers. The monument is simple but striking. There are marble slabs stood up on end, each with a name of a passenger lost. On one slab in particular, a womans name was engraved, and next to it, very faint, it read “and unborn child”. Slabs are arranged in such a way that if you look down all of them, in the distance you see a stone, which is where the plane came to rest.
After some time at the memorial, we had a late lunch in the parking lot. A gentleman named Wayne stopped by who’d seen the van. Turns out he has a brother in the general area where we’ll be dipping our wheels in the Atlantic Ocean, so we may have a place to camp. It will end up that we don’t stay with him, but Wayne’s brother will alert the local fox news.
The last part of the ride was pleasant. Route 30 is a lane in each direction at this point. Not too challenging and some nice easy downhills to just slalom through. And for the first time during the ride, in Pennsylvania, we see bison. We rolled through Schellsburg and just east of it we were at the campground.