I was born in central Pennsylvania.  When I was around 8 or 9 years old, I heard the tale of the “White Lady of Buckhorn”. The story goes something like this:

Long ago near Buckhorn, PA a couple was riding to their wedding when their carriage overturned on Buckhorn mountain on a curve known as “Devil’s Elbow”.  The bride was killed in the crash.  Occasionally, travelers on that road, mostly young bachelors, have seen  a lady dressed in white walking or wondering across the road, sometimes in an eerie fog, in search of her fiance.

That story gave me chills then and it still does.  It has fascinated me since I was a kid.  Years later, when I was in my mid twenties, I was at a local drinking establishment when a few of my close friends came in the door.  They were looking all bewildered.  I met them at the door and asked them what was up.  They told me that they had gone up to the Altoona area to visit their college when they decided to go to a bar on top of Buckhorn mountain.  They said that as they drove, a street light at the bottom of the mountain went out as they drove under it.  As they climbed further up the mountain, the radio in their car mysteriously stopped working which is a bit strange for going up a mountain.  They continued on and then it suddenly started to get foggy.  They said it was no ordinary fog, it was very thick like driving into a white wall.  They could no longer see well enough to continue.  They stopped and turned the car around and started back down the mountain.  As they descended, the radio in the car came back on at exactly the same spot that it went off.  Then, as they crossed back under the street light at the bottom of the hill, it came back on again.  The said they were a little freaked out by the strange events.  However, they REALLY got freaked out when I asked them if they ever heard of “The White Lady of Buckhorn”.  When they said no, I proceeded to tell them the story.  When I finished, they were literally white as ghosts!

For more stories like this visit:

Ghosts of Central Pennsylvania

Ghosts of Delaware County

Mid-Atlantic Ghosts

Jane Dippel of the Route 66 Association of Missouri sent along some good news about Pinga’s Mexican restaurant, formerly located in a pink stucco building just south of Rolla, Missouri. It has reopened inside Witmor Farms Restaurant in Buckhorn, and the food is just as good as before, Jane reports. I’m one of many association members who has enjoyed Pinga’s food over the years, and I’m looking forward to visiting the new location.

Time for a Winter roadtrip?  We added a link to Buckhorn Maplefest(about 90-120 minutes from Toronto, not far from Peterborough).  Thanks for the tip Tracey!

For you locals, check out the Buckhorn Saloon! They completed their renovations and the dance floor is OPEN! Check it out!

http://theinglesideindex.com/articles/2008/06/17/news/news03.txt

–Lisa

And, now let us turn our attention once again to the topic of hamburgers.

This weekend we were at our favorite diner in the area, the Putah Creek Café in Winters. It had been a while since we visited, but when we showed up it was just like walking around in old shoes – comfortable, relaxing and oh-so-welcoming. There was a grizzled old cowboy at the coffee bar enjoying a mug of suds, Davis cyclists on their way through to Berryessa, and a whole other host of after-church sinners and saints.

We took our place at a perfect booth in front of a sunny window, and I instantly decided on the Portobello mushroom burger with goat cheese and herbs. He – and you know who I mean – ordered the burger. When our orders came, he was shocked that my Portobello burger was just that. “No meat?” he inquired with the wistfulness of someone who had been betrayed by one they only thought they knew. My response: “No farm boy. No meat. Just mushroom.”

A taste test ensued. It quickly became clear that it was the farm girl – and not the farm boy – who had ordered wrong that day. Again.

By Shelly Kessen