Now that I'm recovering from my latest insane work project that devoured my life for three weeks straight (but before I have to travel to DC for work next week), we decided to crawl out from our winter cave hibernation and try another exploration trip. So this morning we packed the boys into the Jeep, headed south, and found something fun for everyone.

From Natasha's list, the first stop was Amish country; not the famous one in Lancaster County, PA, but to a smaller community near Spartansburg, PA. It's actually an interesting mix of Amish and 'Gentiles' living together all mish-mashed. It seems like the Amish out there are a little less strict than their Lancaster counterparts - we found one family still using a horse and buggy, but using a huge propane tank to keep them warm. We also found a nice little Dutch restaurant where they served watered-down versions of Amish food and where Matt found his favorite part of the trip - a nice place mat to destroy.

The next stop was the area around Titusville, PA, where in the late 1850s, some lucky dude started drilling oil, giving birth to the modern American oil industry which now happens to rule the world with iron fist. Funny what great and terrible things come from such humble beginnings (enjoy that shot please, I nearly sprained my ankle taking it). When we visited the site where this guy built his first drilling operation, Jon fulfilled one of his great life dreams - to stand on railroad tracks and visit a real live active railway station.

Ever since I was a little kid, one of my life dream has been to see a ghost town. When my family would make annual (sometimes bi-annual) trips to southern California, we would drive by a big sign luring people out to the 'ghost town' of Calico, CA. I never got the guts up to ask to go, but the idea of dead towns has fascinated me even into adulthood.

So today I forced my poor family to come to visit the former location of Pithole, PA. Now Pithole is cool because not only does it have a name that belongs in an Indiana Jones film, but it was the largest oil boomtown in the United States. The town went from non-existent, to having over 15,000 people, then back to being non-existent all within two years (1865-1867). Now sure it's not much to look at now - all that's left are some cellars, roads, oil equipment, and the little shack in the back of the picture where the town center used to be. But I think it's amazing to see an empty field where a town that looked like this used to be. I mean there used to be a stinking saloon out there - how cool is that?