Southern Penn: Tribulations and Tributes

Leaving Gettysburg, we headed to Southern Pennsylvania, where we considered the trials and tribulations of others, and endured tribulations of our own with the passing of our littlest traveling companion, Sprinkles.

Lancaster

Lancaster is the poster child for Amish country, and we envisioned country dirt lanes, smiling bonnetted-and-straw-hatted families, covered bridges, and thick slabs of fresh-churned butter on everything. Turns out that might be obtainable in other locations in Lancaster County, but Lancaster the city is like any other big city: crowds, traffic, and a Hardee’s on every corner. Even our campground name was misleading; the “Old Mill Stream Campground” was on the grounds of an amusement park (though, to be fair, it did have a stream).

The Amish in this area trace their heritage back to Dutch immigrants that came over the in the 1720s. There are actually more than 25 different types of Amish, including the Mennonites, Old Order Amish, and the Brethren, and they still live and work much as their forefathers did. They are a Christian faith, but emphasize separation from popular culture, simplicity, and community. They don’t have to like modern-day life, but I guess they do have to live in it.

As anyone who has watched the reality show Breaking Amish knows, being Amish in 2024 is not easy, shunning modern conveniences and technology, and suffering isolation and intense social pressure within their community. Here in Lancaster, there are entire tours organized around the Amish, but our sights were set solely on the Lancaster Central Market, the oldest farmers market in the U.S., with a strong Amish presence.

In operation since the 1730s, and having been granted permanent status by King George II in 1742, the market today is set in a beautiful downtown red brick building that is 125 years old.

Looking up, the beautiful wooden beams are a reminder of architecture of the past. For more than 300 years, products of all origins have been purchased here, not only Amish but also Pennyslvania Dutch, German, Greek, Middle Eastern and more.

Open only on Tues, Fri and Sat, there was a wide variety of local produce, fresh flowers, lots of baked goods, ready-to-eat meals, and so much more. A lot of the goods were extremely unusual — strawberry rose petal sausage, anyone?

Though not strictly Amish, the Lancaster Public Market did have a fair contingent of Amish sellers — lovely people, all of them — friendly and polite. And the produce was as fresh as it comes, picked that morning (or so they said, anyway) from their local farms.

A local youth music-education program put on a mini-concert, adding to the festive air on this fine weekend day.

Turns out we didn’t have to go to the market for fresh goodies. The Amish version of DoorDash rolled right through our campground later that day.

We filled our fridge from the Lancaster Central Market, but the absolute best farmers market remains the Saturday market in Madison, Wisconsin, an enormous shindig stretching over four sides of the Capitol square. For farmers market fans, both of these are “don’t miss” destinations!

We couldn’t help but reflect how challenging it must be to remain true to long-standing Amish principles in today’s modern world, just one of the many tribulations their youth must certainly face.

Flight 93 National Memorial

When you hear “9/11” you usually think of New York City, but Pennsylvania shares the horrific honor, here in a lonely farm field. The Al Qaeda terrorist attack on the U.S. including a commercial airliner hijacking in an intended attack on the U.S. Capitol. Because of the heroic actions of the 40 passengers and crew aboard Flight 93, this attempt was thwarted, though all on board lost their lives. The Flight 93 Memorial honors their sacrifices during the ongoing tribulations of a troubled world.

A uniquely styled memorial, everything here was constructed with meaning and intention. For example, the walkway to a viewing platform has cutouts indicating the path of the plane as it was coming down. It is at the end of this route that the plane crashed, upside-down, at 563 miles per hour into the Somerset County field beyond, with no survivors. It was only 18 minutes flying time before they would have reached the Capitol.

The actual crash site is marked with a big boulder. This event is perhaps most remembered for 13 of the passengers’ 37 heartfelt calls to loved ones as they realized their fate; the visitors center has recordings of these calls that I couldn’t bring myself to listen to. The rallying cry of “Let’s Roll!” is also associated with this flight, as a group of men made the awful decision to storm the cockpit, knowing it would be the last thing they ever did.

A series of dog-friendly hiking paths take you to the debris field and associated memorials; you can also drive to the Memorial Plaza from the Visitor Center. Also here, the Tower of Voices is an enormous memorial windchime. 93 feet tall and 15 feet in diameter, the tower has 40 chimes to represent the voices of the 40 passengers and crew who jointly made the decision to come together and fight terrorism on this flight.

The chimes are activated solely by the wind, though you can hear the sounds online if you visit on a still day. Click here for 30 seconds of beautiful music! Each of the chimes is 8″ in diameter, and the notes played span two entire octaves.

Even the surrounding trees are meaningfully arranged in concentric rings, representing sound waves emanating from the tower — the final calls or messages from those on the flight, out into the airwaves on their way to loved ones who would never see them again.

There are no other chime structures like this anywhere in the world. The Tower of Voices provides a living memorial in sound to remember the forty through their ongoing voices. It was incredibly moving and a wonderful tribute to the sudden tribulations of everyday people, who didn’t know that day would be their last.

R.I.P. Sprinkles

This tribute post would not be complete without remembering our best travel buddy, Sprinkles. (Incorrectly but humorously known to many as: Spreckles, Sparkles, Stinkles.)

Our tribulations began before we left home months ago, as her health had not been the best, but it was on this trip that she completely stopped eating and gave all the classic signs that she was done. Her last major activity had been a month or so earlier, hiking Shenandoah National Park, before she started shutting down.

She would end her life just as she lived most of her life, on the road. And so, two days before her 13th birthday, she went to the Great Campground in the Sky.

Despite getting her as a scrawny $100 rescue mutt and promptly having to spend $9,500 on two knee surgeries, she remains one of our all-time best investments. She did it all, from hiking way up to a remote tea house in the Canadian Rockies, to kayaking the Colorado River to Emerald Cove, and 43 National Parks.

A true adventurer until the end, she waited to go until she had visited all 48 lower states in the U.S. and 4 Canadian provinces. We will miss our rascally little buddy so much!

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Speaking of tribulations, here’s something you don’t want to see in your travels when driving your rolling house down the road. The NON-construction roads are bad enough! “Only 318 miles of potholes, road cuts, heavy equipment, concrete barriers and narrow lanes left to go, honey!!!”

We left Pennsylvania, heading westward for the 4th of July and to visit the Palace of Gold, a Hare Krishna temple set in the middle of nowheresville, West Virginia!