i couldn’t make it all the way to deleware water gap in one day. pulled off the highway at eleven in a small town in the center of pennsylvania. watsontown. in the muted colors of midnight, this assemblage of homes and storefronts looked quaint, a well-kempt village with rolling hills and a main street drag. it was so, so clean. unusual. i slept in the backyard of a church, one with a tall steeple. i awoke at dawn with a start, worried that the friday morning commuters might catch a glimpse of a dirty traveller. would i be seen as an invader? disturbing the cleanliness of this valley town?

i was slow to start out. i only had a couple hours to go till lou’s, but the car was groaning from the weight and cold engine, so i stopped at a twenty-four hour truck stop and talked to a diesel engine repair man to see what he thought. i probably have a thousand pounds of wieght loaded in the truck, so he seemed to think the transmission was the mouth of the groan. i agreed, and moved on to the diner to feed myself some oatmeal and a tall glass of water.