Exploring Pennsylvania

I'm going to jump right in. I anticipate covering the highlight of 2014 will require many, many words.

This past Friday night started with happy hour at Twisted Vines. Life doesn't get much better than a five dollar glass of decent wine. From there, we headed to P. Brennan's Irish Pub for a bite to eat.  Because if there is one thing a five dollar wine does its encourage you to have an extra glass. Next on the agenda was seeing a comedy show at the Arlington Drafthouse. Suffice it to say, laughter fails to disappoint. Though I was happy to see the time was past midnight at the show's end because I was all kinds of exhausted. I think it's a testament to the challenge the real world has been for me these past couple of weeks. I was not alone--next on the gang's agenda was to make our respective ways home.

On Saturday Boyfriend and I woke early, walked over to Dunkin Donuts for some coffee and munchkins, and hit the road--heading north to Pennslyvania. Our first stop was the Middle Creek Wildlife Management Area in Stevens, PA. We hiked along to the melodies of song birds and had quite a few woodpecker spottings. And at one point, there were more geese than my eyes could handle; I nearly mistook them for rocks. The only photographable wildlife, however, was a sad, injured raccoon.

After getting our nature fix, we proceeded to Lititz, PA, about fifteen minutes down the road. If you like the idea of a town filled with a chocolate aroma, Lititz is your place. It wasn't so much the chocolate that sold me--though I did stop into Wilbur Chocolate Co. for some dark chocolate covered espresso beans, it was the quaint town, filled with quaint-town tourists. A real slice of heaven here in the ol' US of A. After strolling the streets, we opted for diner at The Tomato Pie. I have no idea what tomato pie is, even after consuming a hearty slice, but I do know I would order and enjoy it again and again... tomato pie being an exceptionally good choice on a night where temperatures lingered around well below the freezing point. And since this was classified as a vacation, we splurged the $1.50 for a raspberry tart bar that I will never forget.

I failed to mention the Julius Sturgis Pretzel Bakery. Love. 

Our day was not over. The reason for our being in Lititz was to visit the Wolf Sanctuary of PA, something I dreamed of doing since the moment I found out it existed, weeks prior to our visit. The stars aligned--a full moon, meaning the monthly full moon tours fell on this three day weekend--and my heart filled with gusto. Of course, my love for wolves dates back prior to my May 2008 trip to Yellowstone National Park. Most of my "researching" has focused on reintroduction of wolves since then. The sanctuary--opposite in nature--left me conflicted going in. After my visit, I'm slightly convinced this is a better alternative for wolves whose life began domestically. For these wolves would stand no chance if "reintroduced" into the wild. Life most certainly seems a more preferred option to death. The real selling point for me was the staff. These people are dedicated to these wolves; they work at the sanctuary on a volunteer basis. In addition to all the hours served, they devote one weekend night a month to stand outside in the cold, cold (or hot, hot) dealing with people like me badgering them with questions about research, reintroduction, sustainability, etc.

To be fair, the majority of the crowd--and there was a crowd--was interested in knowing who the alpha wolf of each pack. The deep stuff. I couldn't help myself; I arrived with a notepad lineup of questions. Enduring the cold (and being prepared) paid off, I eventually had my moment--D, my favorite guide, to myself. Isn't it so that I would find myself bonding with a 60-year old man over wolves? His wife and him fell in love seven years ago, have relocated--now living 25 miles South of the wolves, and spend their retirement caring for wolves and helping out at the sanctuary as much as time will allow. As I mentioned to D, I would do the same tomorrow if Yellowstone NP had interest in 26-year old females with zero experience when hiring Park Rangers.

The night was so perfect. Such a special, special outing. If only every encounter--human, wolf, or town--could be so exhilarating.

From the sanctuary, suffering from a severe case of frostbite, Boyfriend and I made our way to the Alden House, our bed and breakfast for the night. The next morning certainly came sooner than I would have liked, breakfast was served promptly at 8:00 am. There were perks: The meal was delicious; someone else cooked; and another someone else did the dishes. We showered and made our way west of Gettyburg to Michaux State Forest for another serene, snowy hike (without the birds, this time). As a result of icy, snowy roads driving through the park was a bit slower than anticipated. And because of this, we stopped to notice and take in more than I would normally allow. When we cross the reservoir, we stopped, noticing it was entirely iced over--quite a bit different than our visit there in early July. To the horror of my mom--Boyfriend and I walked all over the reservoir observing the ice fishing holes.

(The ice was real thick, Mom. Promise. I only wished I had ice skates.)

And no! The weekend did not end here. Though our trip ended late Sunday night. We had all day Monday to live before the daily grind called us back to work. And it was on this Monday, I decided our lives needed cinnamon rolls. So I basically slaved away in the kitchen being schooled in Cinnamon Rolls 101 by The Pioneer Woman. And when I ended up with four large pans of cinnamon rolls, I decided the lives of our friends needed the freshly baked goodness too. I made some popcorn, a real compliment to the cinnamon rolls, and our friends worked their way(s) over for a viewing of The Way Way Back, a coming of age film released in early 2013. The movie was perfect for what we were looking for on the afternoon in anticipation the end of a Washington, D.C. snow drought on Tuesday (i.e., no work). The cinnamon rolls, I might add, were perfect. How could they not be? Anything with a quart of whole milk, two cups of butter, and three cups of sugar ought not taste bad.

Away went fat and happy friends, to prepare themselves for Tuesday and all its glory.