In-The-Middle-Of-Nowhere is actually a place

Before I left on my road trip to deep into the Pocono’s, I was joking with my neighbor (who is an avid fisherman/camper) about how my wife packed up almost for 3 weeks food for their stay in Lake Komo, PA. Because, here in the east, there should at least be a Dunkin’ Donuts or a Starbucks no more than 10 minutes driving away.

Did I prove to be the City Slicker there. Because when my car, on the way up there, was being trashed by a metal plate on the road, I ended up being stranded in this little town, which has no more than a chruch, a dairy store and a dainty old weird restaurant which server almost the best pizza I have eaten outside of Italy itself (Hurray for Villa Komo).

But, when Sunday morning came, and my car – my faithful new Licoln Town Car – refused to come with me, I was forced to understand the way of life outside the city. And I mean, really, outside the city. Technically, Lake Komo might still be considered the greater metropolitan area, but there is nothing metropolitan about it. Forests, tiny towns which are not more than a speck on the map even when you zoom in all the way with Google Earth.

It took AAA about 3 hours to deliver a tow-truck. Not because it was so busy, but simply, because there was no hurry. And my vehicle was towed away, being left in the hands of people from a township 25 minutes driving away. And this little township; Hancock, NY, makes my own hometown look like a major city. And I am living in a small village in Bucks County, PA.

And there I was left, on the banks of the lake, with a little home to stay in for the night. The owner of the garage already told me there would not be any work done until they found out what it was, and they wouldn’t find out before it was monday, somewhere after coffee time. And who knows when that would be.

The batteries of my cell phone and beloved iPad 2 where almost drained. Not that my cell-phone was of much use… on the coverage map of my beloved Verizon Wireless it showed there was reception until halfway of the lake… but not the half we were at. So there I was, cut off from society as I knew it. Forced to get by, without anything. No car, no internet, no means of communication but actually talking to people. Ewwwww.

And suddenly, life became so much more pleasant. For two years already I carry my fishing rods with me in the trunk of my car (Hurray for Lincoln, building giant car with giant trunks. If it fits a dead body, it most likely fill fit a fishing rod), and finally I could put them to use. The pink one for my daughter, and for me the manly black one. And just, well, standing there on the dock, casting a line while listening to the chirping of birds.

After that, sitting down and actually reading a book. Wow, the touch of paper can be really smooth, although my iPad does not give me paper-cuts.

And, well, just relax and do nothing but let time pass by. No sight-seeing. No ‘Have-to’s’ but ‘Have to do nothing at all’. And you know what? I loved it.

Late the next day I got a call that my car was repaired, so when we arrived at the garage and were greeted by two old men who looked coming straight out of the Dukes of Hazard, and they delivered my car again practically good as new (and paid a pretty dime for that), I was actually sad of leaving that place.

There are actually places where you can survive having almost no money at all, and maybe having a better quality of life than we City Slickers have. No rush, no senseless hurries. Not having to show off your latest gadget because no-one is impressed anyway.

Actually, my wife and daughter liked it so much, they decided to stay there for a week, and I will pick them up again in the weekend. And you know what? Can someone put again a metal plate on the PA turnpike up North?


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