Article 4 - Travel in Local Spaces, “LOOKING FOR SUSQUEHANNA” June 2006 edition of First Church of The Streets

Driving around the state of New York can be fun, but sometimes a change of scenery is needed. In other words, a trip to a different state. Sometimes a nice drive outside the region is enough to dip a toe into the realization that the world is wider than the parameters of the state border.

With that in mind, my husband and I planned a trip out of state. Originally our path was going to make a loop through the states of Vermont and Massachusetts. But by the time the day for the trip came, it was raining pretty hard in both states, which called for a change in plans. Needless to say, I was glad that we didn't have reservations to some resort only to get rained out. With nothing reserved, we could just change a plan, always a great thing to do when plans are fairly local and nothing is set as scheduled.

So instead, we headed south towards Pennsylvania. Initially, the goal was to follow the flow of the Susquehanna River from Binghamton in New York State. As we headed out, it seemed like the heat billowed up from the earth and surrounded us, one of those quick-heating days where the early summer rises from the earth and eclipses everything. I was glad I was a passenger. I spent the time melting like chocolate in the sun, letting the heat zap me and give me the comfortable numb of summertime. The haze made everything seem like it was sleeping with me, a contented illusion of comfort.

We took the highways to reach Pennsylvania just to get a head start, getting off at the first exit in the state. Immediately, we got stuck in a maze of road work, the stench of blacktop in our nostrils belying the background scenery of pine trees. There were a couple of small businesses in the area that looked like they were hurting because of this, and I didn't envy them much. From what I could see, Pennsylvania didn't seem to require license plates in the front of cars, which coming from another state, seemed disorientating. I also knew I crossed the state border just by the signs that loudly advertised fireworks for sale, a commodity that was illegal in New York. Unlike the mom-and-pop establishments stuck in the work zone, I doubted that these places would hurt for business, especially with the upcoming Fourth of July season.

Following the river, we passed through industrial towns that seemed at once tired and worn and quaint and old-fashioned. The downtown areas had the cheery hope of village diners, but the factories and mills had the look of a neglected child. After the river coursed its way through civilization, it paralleled a road that headed up a mountain. The river descended in our view as we ascended on that road. It reached to meet us as we dipped down into a valley, making us get lost on back roads in small towns that were unfamiliar to us. A couple of times we met the river directly at accesses. But soon the river got away from us, and we were just getting more and more lost ten miles or so away from our home state. As soon as we found PA 92, a state road that headed north, we abandoned the search for the river and took the lifesaver. A little adventure was fine, but we had enough of our fill for this hot day.

PA 92 took us through a happily wooded section northward until it hit the state border, which at that point the road changed its name to NY 79. The division occurred between two rural properties. I thought of the novelty of having a next door neighbor being in another state and following a different set of rules. Like, he could buy fireworks legally, but you couldn't.

Not too long after that, we reached a county park that surrounded Hawkins Pond. The area was as asleep as the rest of the heated landscape. No one was there to partake in a summer picnic, so the scenery was taking its own siesta. There were trails surrounded by tunnels of trees that led to the pond below. However, the trails were drenched in mud and not very walkable, unless you were craving a lot of daring. Which at this moment of the hot day, we weren't. So the only view we got of the pond was from afar.

The Susquehanna River begins in Otsego Lake, located in Cooperstown, New York. It goes south through Binghamton, through the states of Pennsylvania and Maryland, where it dumps into the Chesapeake Bay. Obviously to follow the river the whole way would have been more than a quick morning outing. It would have taken us further east into the state before going west again, all the way moving inexorably south until it reached its final destination. We obviously were not going this far, however, and the heat brought us back home, leading our search away from the wilds of the river and turning our search into a journey for an ice cream cone on a hot day. But the river continued its journey without us. It could wait for the next time we searched for its end, because it really didn't care if we joined up with it or not. It had its own destination, moving slowly south, carrying its current with it, regardless of what rode on its crest.