10 Diners, 16 Pies, 24 Historical Markers

Travels with my brother along PA Route 6 looking for pies.

Part 1
Whose Bright Idea Was This??

My brother Joe is unable to sit still for very long. Having just returned from a three week ramble through western Ireland, he now wanted to drive along Pennsylvania Route 6 in search of pies. It’s been on his mind since 1989 when he read an article in The New Yorker by a writer who traveled the route eating pies and exploring their place in America. Route 6, known as the Grand Highway of the Republic, is the country’s longest continuous highway. Often it cuts through rural and small towns, starting in Provincetown, Massachusetts, and ending in Bishop, California. It’s a route Joe always wanted to explore and the prospect of pie made it even more enticing.

I found the article for him in the March 27th issue, entitled “The Great American Pie Expedition” by Sue Hubbell. Hubbell, as was true throughout her writing life, is a fine companion, threading her article with wit, an infectious love for characters, and, for this article, pie. She chronicled the months she spent on the road with her dog, Tazzie, a German shepherd mix of patient and pleasant demeanor, as the two drove from Maine to Kentucky. Her article generously included recipes for two crusts and four different pies. Of all the miles she traveled, only a few were on Pennsylvania Route 6. She stopped once at an old hotel in Mansfield where she tasted a slice of chocolate meringue pie.

It was made of bittersweet chocolate so rich that the memory of Droste chocolate apples came to me. The meringue was as brown as a toasted marshmellow and so flat and neat that it must have been spread by a knife.—Sue Hubbell, “The Great American Pie Expedition,” The New Yorker, March 27, 1989.

Joe didn’t take to heart that the only thing he got right about Hubbell’s journey was her search for pie. Perhaps, on his own, he could find more pies on Route 6. He asked if I wanted to come along and I saw no reason not to. Route 6 cuts across the northern region of the state for 403 miles. Joe mapped out a section that would start in Scranton and end just over the state line in Port Jervis. That would cover 272 of the 403 miles.

Joe is more of a planner than his sister Sue and I and, soon after agreeing to go, he sent me a Google Doc with an agenda for two and a half days. He calculated each day’s mileage, then added some cushion for side trips. The itinerary included diners, old cafes and hotels, and maybe farm stands—places that offered the prospect of regional specialities, baked in-house or locally sourced pies. A few days later he announced he had found 19 possible stops. If we stuck to his schedule, we’d hit 11 diners on the first day, which worked out to two diners and pie every two hours. We’d mop up the last 8 the next day.

I forgot to mention that we also intended to stop at every historical marker and perhaps a few old graveyard along the way. Our dad had instilled in us the importance, even necessity, of pulling over to the side of the road, getting out, reading the sign, and learning about something or someone that would expand our understanding of America.

OH LOOK! A SIGN! PULL OVER!! (My husband’s and sons’ imitation of how I sound when they are driving with me.)

Early last Saturday, Joe picked me up in Scranton and off we set on our journey down Route 6 for our Great American Pie Mandering.

Coming soon!

Part 2: The intrepid travelers sally forth with empty stomachs, mighty hope, and a bag full of indigestion remedies.