Manifest Destiny: America from the Bottom Up - Day 21 - Downingtown, PA to Sadsburyville, PA - Miracle at Brandywine Creek

There were light-themed dreams about hanging out with friends, some of them were you guys. We were joking and sitting on a deck overlooking some harbor in Maine on a sunny summer morning.

As usual lately, I forgot where I was when I awoke, and then saw the river running below me. I had been warm and dry all night. I'd planned to fill the Camelbak (my canteen) from the river, because I'd become thirsty - but not overly so - the night before. I'd finished off the rest of the water right after arriving at this Brandywine campsite the last afternoon.

I leisurely went through the process of packing up, and everything went smoothly. Then in tightening my bungees, I lifted up the Camelbak, to work one of the cords around its cloth handle, and it felt heavy--the bladder-part looked bigger than it should. I stopped and pressed my fingers on it... and...

...IT WAS FULL.

I cannot explain this! It was even more expanded than I had ever filled it! I nearly fell over backward with astonishment. I felt shivers all over my body. I was so surprised that (and this is the first time this has ever happened to me) my hands shook uncontrollably. I looked all around as if someone

Thinking carefully about what could have happened, I could not for the life of me figure it out. I am a rationalist. I've never seen a UFO, never talked with discarnate entities, never witnessed a ghost or a monster, never had any overtly "psychic" experiences at all.

I don't even consider this Camelbak incident to be a true "miracle." The only thing I can think is that somehow in my deep sleep I may have actually sleepwalked, climbing down the bank of the river, and filled the Camelbak. But...... I just don't think that happened. I suppose it will remain a mystery.

I cleaned up my fire area, which was just ashes and dust at this point, and brushed the leaves over it. I wished I'd had stones to make my fire pit the night before. After strapping the pack to my back, I notice a circle of stones, with seven radii - making seven pie-piece shapes - running from the edges to the center. I realized I could have use those stones. I was also surprised at the geometry of the circle. Seven is not a number used very often when people make such haphazard things. Just interesting--that's all. I was also surprised I hadn't noticed this circle the day before.

I left the place as I'd found it, but carved "IWALLK 11/11/14" into one of the small trees.

I found a Dunkin Donuts about 2 miles down the road, bought a coffee and then charged my laptop and camera. I wanted to go slower on this day. I needed to simply rest a bit longer whenever I did rest. It was a holiday after all! I was hungry, but Dunkin Donuts just doesn't give enough quantity for the price. So, I continued up Business Route 30 until I reached the Downingtown Diner...

Google Street View.

What a friendly place! And they had Wi-Fi. For the same amount I would have spent at Dunkin donuts for a breakfast sandwich, I got a whole omelet breakfast. It was good move. The overcast was thick. It was something I was starting to expect from every single day. I did not realize that as I headed toward the Midwest I would not see the sun in a blue sky for another month.

Eventually, I had to start moving again and left to continue down Business Route 30. I didn't realize I would end up walking another 15 miles this day.

My Eastern Pennsylvania goal was Lancaster. From there I planned to take a train or bus across the middle of the state to Pittsburgh in the west. That meant I had about 35 miles to go. Today's walk was memorable, but for no particular reason. I recall nearly each step of the way. The gray sky and the cold air, the worn out strips malls and the train tracks bringing commuter trains and Amtrak trains by my left side to their station in Thorndale which then raced away through the tiny town of Caln and beyond, the field stone houses (typical of this part of the state) and constant traffic... Why would it register so strongly?

There was a lot to think about--enough to get lost inside myself. Yet, paradoxically, all this thinking seemed to reinforce the images that I saw on the outside. I thought a great deal about the Spark. I knew it had been with me for a long time; all of my life. I realized now which times in the past were influenced by the spiritual entity. Now, I found its presence so obvious, so overt. I recognized again how making that will-choice way back at North Station in Boston - to walk forward into the unknown, no matter what might befall me - polished the mental glass through which the Spark could now be perceived.

The unseen companion was a completely new phenomenon. In my belief system there are beings distantly related to us whom exist in between ourselves and "the angels" (for lack of a better word). Was this companion one of these invisible relatives? He didn't seem to help with anything, nor did I get the impression he protected me in any way. I was pretty sure he was there just to provide company--hence the name, "companion." I looked for evidence that he was doing anything at all. But, possibly aside from the filling of the Camelbak on this morning (which I seriously doubted), there was no evidence. He was just there.

When I reached the edge of Coatesville I stopped in a general, bought a sandwich, and then sat on these bleachers and ate it, while the kids from Scott Middle School (in the background) did laps in the field...

   

Google Street View.

Walking through East Coatesville wasn't to bad. It looked a bit economically depressed. But, that was nothing compared to West Coatesville. The house jammed up along the sides of the street were pretty run down. There were no white people around, only black folks sitting on their porches or visiting their neighbors.

What a strange combination of apparent income levels. Some houses were very large and well-appointed, then right next to one of these were houses with no windows, or the windows were boarded up. A few junked cars were permanently parked in front of these places; some with busted out windshields, some with tires or whole wheels missing, and some with engines missing. Perhaps it was just a bad day in the neighborhood?

Many of these folks stopped what they were doing and took time out to watch the strange white guy with a backpack and army vest shuffling as quickly as he could through town. They didn't mock me or laugh, they simply stared, mouths agape.

I crossed over the West Branch Brandywine Creek and saw some of the largest building I'd yet seen on this Journey. It was the Coatesville location of the ArcelorMittal steel company. The property around these gigantic building was just like you might imagine, dirty, gray, heavily industrialized. Now, what I'd seen in the housing and the town in general began to make sense. Pennsylvania is known for its steel industry (remember Billy Joel's "Allentown"?). I was experiencing part of this in person. From the company's website...

ArcelorMittal Coatesville is a steel plate production facility located in Coatesville, Pennsylvania, approximately 40 miles west of Philadelphia. 

This strategic location in eastern Pennsylvania allows for good highway and railroad access. The plant produces steel from scrap in an electric arc furnace and is capable of producing approximately 900,000 tons of raw steel annually. The plant also operates ingot teeming facilities, a slab caster, two plate mills and heat-treating facilities. The Coatesville facility refines more than 450 different steel chemistries and, together with the Conshohocken facility, located just 33 miles away, produces some of the widest, thickest and heaviest steel plates in the industry.

[Source: Arcelor Mittal Fact Sheet pdf.]

The company has operated this facility since 1810, and now employs 770 people. As I gazed across its 958 acres, and some of its 3.5 million square feet of buildings, I presumed that nearly all of these employees lived here in town. It fascinated me that with over $60 billion in annual sales worldwide, this host town of Coatesville was in such crappy condition. I was happy to only be passing through.

It had already seemed like quite a effort to get this far from Downingtown. I had no idea that I was about to be climbing one of epic hills of this Journey. By the time the road was turning north I noticed just how much higher I was than the ground level where the creek passed through, now a half mile behind me.

Then, I began to climb. Bad memories of "The Hill," west of Scituate, Rhode Island, filled my mind after about a half mile of this. And, like on that exhausting day, this hill went on and on. It was not as steep, but its gradual incline had no level areas.

Again, I had only one Gatorade and drank it after only the first of about 10 minutes. by the time I reached the very top I was a-some parched! I was now in a suburb of West Nowhere, called Valley Township. on my left was a gas station, and then a place called, Mike's Pizza. On the right was a Burger King. I went to Mike's to buy a drink. and the owner (presumably, Mike?) was the spitting image of George W. Bush! I swear. I even mentioned it and he rolled his eyes. Apparently, I was only the millionth person to tell him that. He was a nice guy though, very hyper. I asked if they had internet and he shrugged an embarrassed "sorry."

Already, the Philadelphia/New Jersey accents were giving way to a kind of bastardized southern drawl. It was a weird combination for sure. not many folks spoke like "Frantic Francis" had, but they also weren't hillbilly-souther either. not sure I could even describe it phonetically. You had to kind-of be there to know what I mean.

I bought my drink and took a few gulps then squeezed it into the pack for later. Crossing the street, I went into Burger King for a small meal. The temperature was really cold now. For some reason the air conditioning was on in the restaurant. I mentioned this to the nice young man named Jermaine, who took my order for a hamburger and lemonade. He apologized and said the ventilation system was screwed up. In the kitchen it was a hundred degrees (and I could feel it from in front of the counter). I said I'd have to wait while he fixed the beverage machine for my drink. But then he offered to just give it to me for free. I objected, but he insisted (the patter of the nice folks I would meet in this state). When my order was ready I asked if there was an AC outlet, he and the manager, Dawnmarie pointed me toward the back corner table. I thanked them and sat there, after a brief conversation about what I was doing with all the stuff I carried.

I was the only customer there. I still have a hard time understanding how these places make money when no one comes in for hours on end. It wasn't me problem though, and I got online, working for a few hours and letting the sweat dry. During that time, Dawnmarie came over with a cup and a hot pot of coffee, asking me if I wanted some. I told her I was almost out of money. She laughed and told me it was on the house, "especially since you have to sit under the air conditioner!" which was right above me on this cold day. Later she came by with a hot chocolate!

The sun was long gone by the time I was ready to move on. A few folks had come through, eaten, and left again, by the time I was leaving. I walked up to the counter and thanked my two new friends, who posed for this shot...

Jermaine and Dawnmarie at Burger King in Valley Township, Pennsylvania.

I mentioned the hill I'd just endured to get there from the east and asked what I would face as I continued westward. Dawnmarie told me I'd be walking down a big hill - go figure! - and would end up in the valley of Sadsburyville. That sounded better. I thanked them and left heading back up Business Route 30. In no time, I was walking downhill just like Dawnmarie had predicted.

I just wanted to bed down for the night and closely examined every possible dark spot I could see for rough-camping potential. I was only about 2 miles along when I saw a thin line of trees surrounding a tiny stream between two fields.

I knew that I was entering "Pennsylvania Dutch" (also, Mennonites and Amish) country. I'd expected to see some of these folks in the next few days. The term "Dutch" does not refer to people from Holland, but to the Deutsch or German-speaking religious settlers of this area. I, being a fan of simplicity, was looking forward to interacting with these people who shunned electricity and modernism.

I snuck down into the trees and found a level place right near the stream. It was a nice sound, rippling by my. I was looking forward to climbing into the sleeping bag. Then I heard the strangest animal sound. It was a loud snort. then there was another. Shortly thereafter came a ka-clop, ka-clop, ka-clop along the road. Sure enough a small light emerged, coming down the same hill I'd just traversed. It was a small horse and buggy. It slowed as it approached my position. I hunkered down, wondering why. Then a red left turn signal came on, and the buggy crossed to head down Octorara Road. I smiled to myself. Just think of something and it occurs! I'd wanted to see this, and there is was.

As I lay staring up at the sky, a few stars began to emerge behind the thin layer of clearing clouds. Maybe I'd actually get to see some sunlight the next day. It sure had seemed like a long time...

Sadsburyville Sleeping Place.