Monday, July 25, 2016

Situation normal

Why change it to Cucumber Falls?
To get to Confluence, Pennsylvania, we had to take a left turn at Normalville, which sounds like a euphemism for some sort of shady behavior:

"What ever happened to Uncle Fred?"

"Well, you know, he's been on the run ever since he took that left turn at Normalville."

What can I say about Normalville? Not much to it except a high price for gas, although come to think of it, it wasn't any higher than the other high gas prices we'd seen since entering Pennsylvania. It was just kind of normal.

But we didn't stay in Normalville. We turned left and at Ohiopyle, and if someone can tell me why a state park in Pennsylvania is called Ohiopyle, I will have learned something today. 

Ohiopyle is not at all normal. In fact, thanks to some highly abnormal rock formations, Ohiopyle is a great place to see kayakers zip through rapids and rafts full of teens get stuck on rocks and then try to free themselves in highly comical fashion, and it's also a great place to hike through shaded groves of mountain laurel to see Cucumber Falls (formerly known as Keister Park--no fooling!) and stick your feet in the water to cool off because the temperature is abnormally hot, even for July.

And our Bed & Breakfast in Confluence is a great place to cool off after a hot afternoon of hiking in the hills. It's also a great place to play Name That Warbler, since the lampshades in our room pose a challenge. I'm not a pro at lampshade warbler identification, but I'm thinking black-throated blue and Kentucky warblers. Doesn't everyone feel compelled to identify lampshade warblers? Nothing abnormal about that.

Tomorrow we'll try to get the canoe out before the heat cranks up too high, but tonight we're looking for a totally dull and uneventful evening in Confluence. Because apparently you don't have to stay in Normalville to have a perfectly normal life.
Lampshade in our room. Totally normal. Name that warbler!

Ohiopyle falls

Cucumber Falls

Butterfly and mountain laurel



Anonymous said...

One of the few remnants of American Indian culture in the area is the name. "Ohiopyle" is derived from the Lenape phrase ahi opih…ôle which means 'it turns very white', referring to the frothy waterfalls.

Contingent Cassandra said...

Wow! If that's mountain laurel, it blooms months later in the laurel highlands than in not-so-distant coastal areas. Or maybe it's a different species, or just a weird year (it has been a weird year).

(While I don't have quite the came compulsion to identify lampshade-warblers, I do narrow in on plants)

Bev said...

Okay, so I was wrong about the mountain laurel. I am told that it's a type of rhododendron. So sue me.