It was one of our first experiments in homeschool travel. It was our first year homeschooling our kids, and we'd bought lessons from a private school rather than try to create our own. The power plant that employs my husband was building a new unit with technology that was new to them. A company in Pittsburgh had such a unit, so the company sent personnel out to Pennsylvania to take classes and observe. My husband had already spent a week there months earlier. They didn't have the guys room together in standard rooms, but booked each man into a mini suite, with a refrigerator, microwave and sleeper sofa. When they sent him out a second time, for much longer, I thought: I'm self employed, and the kids can do their schoolwork anywhere. So, we bought plane tickets to go join Dad for the month.
My son, daughter and I flew out several days after my husband left. All I had was an address and a MapQuest set of directions to get me from the airport to my destination. We landed at about 5:00 p.m. I had neglected to take into account the fact that I was going night blind, and I'd be driving in the dark. In a rental car. On unfamiliar roads. In a snow storm. I warned my 12 year old and 8 year old - "Do not talk to me. Do not make any noise. Do not annoy each other." It speaks of either their consideration or of their terror of dying a fiery death that there wasn't a peep out of them for the entire 45 minute drive.
I don't recall much in the way of signs of civilization on the highway while driving toward the city. I did go through several unmanned toll booths, stressing out that I had run out of change by the last one. ("Which route did you take?" my husband asked. "I don't remember any toll booths." "I don't know! I just drove where the computer told me to.")
I will never forget my first look at the city. I'd been driving through dark, rural areas when I hit a tunnel. I drove along, not thinking much of it. When I came out the other side, it was the visual equivalent of being in a quiet, dark theater, then having the entire orchestra simultaneously play a crescendo. WAAAHHH! There was the skyline, bright and glittering, and very close, just across the river. It was beautiful and disorienting. I wanted to stop, look, maybe take photos, but I couldn't.
After taking my turn and eventually finding myself in a quieter area, I crawled down a snow covered road, following the instructions I had. I phoned my husband on the cell phone: "Are you in a Holiday Inn?"
"Yep."
"I'm in the parking lot."
This is what the view from our window looked like on most days:
The little red car on the right is our rental, Red.
My mother had always told me that we desert dwellers didn't really understand cold, didn't know what humidity does to the cold. I dismissed that thought. We lived less than an hour from the site of the 1960 Winter Olympics, for goodness sake. We understood cold! We laughed at wimpy California transplants who couldn't take it.
Then I experienced Pennsylvania in February.
OH. MY. We were now the wimps, running from heated buildings to the heated car as fast as we could. There was no sledding, no hiking, and very little outdoor photography. We did something we hardly ever do - took photos through windows.
We'd never experienced an ice storm, where rain falls as liquid, but freezes as soon as it touches anything solid.
We had to chip our way into our car. I'd never seen anything like it.
Mostly, we settled into a comfortable rhythm. In the morning, the kids and I headed out to explore while their dad went to work. We visited almost every museum and historic site in a 45 mile radius. Then, we'd head back to the hotel to do schoolwork in the afternoon, and maybe swim in the indoor, heated pool. When Dan came home, we'd have dinner, then settle in to watch TV or head out to shop or play indoors. On weekends, Dan joined us while we explored yet more museums and historic sites.
We're museum groupies; we were in heaven.
It was so cold that the zoo moved a large number of the animals indoors - the elephants, apes, reptiles, anything not equipped to deal with the cold. Yes, those are lions, African beasts, still outside in the snow.
We explored Fort Pitt, the aviary, the parks, and spent more time than we normally would have at the mall.
We discovered that Pennsylvanians were used to indoor recreation in the winter. In the mall there were indoor playgrounds and mini golf.
Everything looked so different than it does at home; the stone buildings older than my state, the row houses, the ice, the piles of salt spread across the road.
This isn't even a creek or waterfall, it's just an ordinary hillside along the road. That much water habitually weeping out of the ground is profoundly foreign to desert folk.
This is apparently one of the iconic shots of Pittsburgh. We saw postcards and posters taken from this same spot, only in the summertime.
We ate often at the Ponderosa Steak House. We liked the food, and it was amusing that we lived, at home, less than an hour away from the actual site of the Ponderosa Ranch, but we didn't have any of the chain restaurants named after it. Plus, they had Family Nights with free balloons and face painting.
I am not prone to homesickness, but I started being more excited than usual to see places that reminded me of home on TV. Even the California coast looked like "home," its being a familiar place (and only a few hours drive from our house.) Still, our first foray into "travel schooling" proved to be a resounding success.
We're all agreed that one day, though, we need to go back to Pittsburgh - in warmer weather.
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