Day 5: Mistaken Identities

 On day 5, after we arrived at the Roundbottom Campground (Robert described why we arrived so early in the day in a different post), I knew I was going to get antsy with so many hours ahead of us.  As a result, I volunteered to see if there was a grocery store or convenience store in the area (well, within 3 miles) where I could buy some water and fun junk food. The guys who were working on the campsite recommended (already described by Robert) that I bike two miles further down the path, where I could cross the river on an old railroad bridge and enter the town of Layton, PA.  In the downtown area, I was told, I would find a small grocery story.

I changed into shorts and a t-shirt, took the bags off my bike, and off I went. (Side observation: my goodness, I could just zoom without all the extra weight on the bike).

Going across the one line railroad bridge, along with cars, was a bit scarier than I would have liked, but I successfully entered the “town” of Layton to discover nothing but an auto shop, a canoe rental joint, and a bunch of dilapidated houses.  Of note, however, was a sign that read “Layton is the home of the film ‘Silence of the Lambs.’”  (Turns out that the external and internal scenes of Buffalo Bill’s house were shot there. It looked like it). 

Disappointed, I was about to turn around and drive back when a car pulled up with two guys you would describe as looking as if they lived next to Buffalo Bill. 

“Whatcha looking for?,” one guy asked, in what to me seemed a voice underlined with odd vibes.

“A grocery store or convenience story,” I responded.

“Well, Bob closed his down a few years back,” he said, and his friend nodded.

“Is there anywhere else around here?,” I tried.

“Well, maybe a mile and a half down the road,” he said.

“Nah,” his partner said, “It’s at least four.”

Back to the first guy, “Well, I live right here.  Whatta ya want? I can get it for ya.”

Nothing against friendliness but something about the guy unnerved me.  The entire encounter felt a little Deliverance (I realize how cliche this sounds).

“Nah, that’s alright,” I said. “I was just looking for chips and junk food. No need to worry about it. I’m just camping down the road.”

“Oh, I know you are,” he said, “I’ll buy some stuff and bring it to you later. Are you staying at the Big Rock?”

Finding that response even odder, I thought to myself quickly, “Hmmmm, there is no big rock where we are staying.”  So, to him, I said, “Why, yes, I’m at the Big Rock.”

“I’ll see ya later,” he said.

He and his buddy drove off, and I jumped on my bike and went back to camp.  I told Robert the story, and he seemed a little alarmed that we might actually be staying at something the locals called Big Rock.  I went over to the guys working on the camp to make sure I did the right thing.

After telling them the entire story, I ended with, “So, I’m just trying to make sure we are not staying at Big Rock.”

“I haven’t heard of Big Rock,” one guy noted.

The other guy sorta giggled: “Oh, I do.  Big Rock is a homeless camp. That guy was actually trying to help you. He thought you were homeless.”

FFS. Five days of this must really be wearing me down.