My mom, Rita, turned 60 last year, and my sister, Nicoletta, and I wanted to take her on a special birthday trip to commemorate this milestone in her life! We offered her anywhere (literally in the world to pick from), but she wanted to go to a place she hasn’t been in close to 30 years...Bedford, Pennsylvania! It is a place that was always special to her heart growing up as a child. Her father, John (my grandfather), was from a little town in Bedford County, called Riddlesburg. Her birthday was at the end of April, but we decided to wait until the end of August (over Labor Day weekend, in fact) to take advantage of the extra day off and make a long weekend out of it. 

This trip meant so much to my mom–but also to me. We had never taken a “girls only” trip before, and in my opinion, it was long overdue. My sister, Nikkie, and I are only 15 months apart, and together we have an insanely comical sense of humor. One thing I remember from the trip was how much we laughed until our faces hurt. It was a great feeling. We live in a suburb of Pittsburgh, and Bedford is roughly a little over three hours away, an easy day-trip for anyone, and very drivable. We actually rented a vehicle for the trip, because we knew were going to be doing a lot of driving! We purposely drove on back roads, specifically US Route 30 or the historic Lincoln Highway, one of the earliest transcontinental highway routes for automobiles in the United States.

My mom wanted to first visit the Flight 93 Memorial in Shanksville, since it was on the way; it is a place she felt drawn to visit ever since the devastating attacks of the four commercial flights on September 11, 2001, but this particular flight felt eerily close to our home in Pennsylvania and it, like the rest of the nation, shook us to our core. As we drove through what is now known as the National Park that is Flight 93, there were various points. There’s a visitor’s center, and a Tower of Voices that features a 93 ft. monument with forty windchimes that represent the forty passengers and crew from Flight 93. 

The wall of names from Flight 93 Memorial

We parked our vehicle and walked along a path that took us to the Wall of Names, a long white wall that follows the flight path of Flight 93. It was very emotional–it even felt like the wind stood still there. The wall had flowers lined upon it, probably from both family, friends, and visitors who came to the wall to visit and pay their respects. There’s also a marked off section, but still in plain sight: a giant boulder that marks where the plane hit the ground. 

The boulder where Flight 93 crashed

There were also pictures and details of both individual passengers, as well as details about that particular day and Flight 93. The one passenger that I learned about that bothered me the most was one of a pregnant woman. I think being a mom of a young child made me feel particularly emotional about her and her unborn baby’s tragic deaths. There was another that showed the names of a married couple. I wondered why my mom was so drawn to this particular place. My parents regularly visit relatives at the cemetery to pray, take walks, and plant flowers. My mom read every detail of everything the park offered that day. She soaked it up like a sponge. All three of us were very moved by the Flight 93 Memorial. We hoped the family of those that were lost felt some sort of comfort knowing that every day–and forevermore–their memory will be acknowledged and never forgotten.  

We were talking to one of the Park Rangers who recommended a great spot for lunch, the Lincoln Cafe, a family-owned and operated diner-type eatery. It’s a quaint place to enjoy a bite to eat not far at all from The Flight 93 Memorial, and it’s located on the Lincoln Highway, too. Homemade soups, salads, huge burgers, grilled sandwiches, and desserts will easily satisfy even the pickiest eater. All three of us enjoyed sandwiches for lunch; shortly thereafter, we were on our way again, on our way to Bedford. 

The Lincoln Cafe, where we had lunch after visiting the Flight 93 Memorial

The whole drive there, my mom told us story after story about traveling “Back the Mountains,” as she affectionately would call it as a child. Many Thanksgivings and Easter memories were made here, and she rattled off details as they came swimming back to her brain after not being back for so many years. My grandfather loved coming back home to Bedford. He moved to Pittsburgh to find better work, but once he was married and had a family of his own, he yearned to be back home, like so many of us would want, especially over the holidays. This trip made my mom light up with happiness and emotion, and I saw it many times over that weekend. It was exactly what I was hoping for, for her. She was just so happy to be going home.
 
I researched online to see unique places to stay, and came across the Jean Bonnet Tavern. The tavern dates back to 1762, but no date is known for when it was built; it was however, intended as a safe haven for early settlers traveling out to the western territories. Earlier than that, it served as a French fort and trading post. George Washington and his troops were also tended to here during the Whiskey Rebellion! The building is filled with history–and no surprise, apparent hauntings, too. The entire history of the Jean Bonnet Tavern can be found on their website. 

Jean Bonnet Tavern

Log cabin on the property

The Jean Bonnet offers four rooms/suites options. We stayed in room number 4, a two-room suite with a Queen bed and two twin trundle beds. The room had a private bath and shower, and featured a spacious upper balcony porch. 

We stayed in room number four at the Jean Bonnet

The view from our room at the Jean Bonnet

The queen bed in the room

This bed turns into a twin trundle bed

A hearty breakfast was served to us each morning in the tavern and restaurant area, which was delicious! We even dined one evening on steak dinners (my mom’s favorite for her birthday) and desserts–it was an incredible meal with exceptional service. There was something about the Colonial decor that immediately made me think of a trip we’d taken a few years back to Colonial Williamsburg. The light fixtures in the room looked like burning candles; the tavern had lanterns on every table, a decorated oversized fireplace, and dark wood. 

The long porch off of the Jean Bonnet

Right next door to the lodging and dining was a wooden Cabin Shoppe filled with displays of colonial and antique items plus pewter mugs, jewelry, homemade soaps and pillows, and many other things. 

The log cabin gift shop on the Jean Bonnet property

We stayed two nights and it was definitely an affordable option–and you get a lot for your money (in my opinion!). Our room was on one end of the building, which made for a beautiful sunrise and/or sunset. The mountains offered a silhouetted backdrop, and each morning began with rising clouds and fog that only a mountain-view could bring. It was nothing short of lovely. 

Porch off of our room at the Jean Bonnet

Our first night there, we went to visit my mom’s cousin Janice and her husband Bob. Their young granddaughter, Maggie Mae, was also at their home and even went out to dinner with us. After visiting for a little while at their lovely home, we went to a local restaurant called Happy Hollow. My mom enjoyed reminiscing with her cousins, and we took a picture too, of their sweet reunion (such a special treat of the trip). My mom’s cousins were able to reconnect over that weekend, and it meant so much to my mother and seeing them again made her birthday trip even more special than it already was; it was fun to see my mom talking excitedly about things from her past with her cousins, and it warmed my heart to see her so happy. On our way back to the bed & breakfast, my mom kept saying how she couldn’t believe she was actually back to Bedford and how much this trip meant to her. 

My mom in the striped shirt with her cousin Janice, her husband Bob, and granddaughter, Maggie Mae

The following day was filled with a packed agenda. The first thing my mom wanted to do was visit the town where her grandparents were from, Riddlesburg. One thing we noticed was driving from one town to the other was not an easy feat. Every town seemed so far away from the next one. Our GPS and Waze App weren’t working perfectly, so we resorted to old-fashioned maps on paper. It was nice to be disconnected, actually; I believe it added value to the trip itself. 

We saw we had to travel on Rt. 26. We managed to get on Route 26 South, thinking this was the right way. My sister fell asleep in the back of the car, and I thoughtfully listened to my mom excitedly talk about all the Thanksgivings and Easters and other memories spent in this beautiful place! The roads were windy and curvy; we came across flat fields with cows, and drove up and down mountains where I regularly had to manually pop my nose because of the pressure. 

Cows on the side of the country roads we travelled on

We got to the top of this one particular mountain and just stopped the car. It looked like we made it to the very top of this giant mountain and the views were spectacular! At one point, my mom said to me that she thought we were on the wrong road because it usually didn’t take this long to get to her grandmother’s house. We turned the car around and noticed a sign that made us bust out laughing, “Welcome back to Pennsylvania.” We both laughed because we drove so much that we didn’t realize we drove out of the state (if only for a little bit!). After taking a look at the map, we noticed we drove to Maryland. We all took it well and laughed it off. It felt good to just be carefree and drive and just simply enjoy the views and not worry about making on-time somewhere. We had all the time in the world! 

On the top of the mountain on South US 26

Luckily, we got on Route 26 North easily, and made it to my mom’s grandmother’s house. She recognized the neighborhood, and if the person who bought her grandmother’s house was there, we were going to knock on the door. We drove on the tiny road very slowly. In any other neighborhood, this would’ve been at least borderline creepy–but not here. The neighbors knew we weren’t from there, and one of the men came out to see if we needed help. My mom explained how we drove from my Pittsburgh and this house used to be her grandparents’ house. The young man was very nice and said that the man who bought the house wasn’t home. I encouraged my mom that we should come back another time, but she felt satisfied just to see that house one more time. Many upgrades were made to the house; no outhouse but now actual plumbing! The neighbor’s house on the corner was also her aunt Darlene’s house from years ago, and she told us stories about how she would make a turkey for Thanksgiving or about Easter egg hunts in the yard. There was an alleyway not far and she recognized it instantly and excitedly told us how she used to walk that alley with her cousins. This place–my mom’s old stomping grounds as a child–so many of her happy childhood memories were spent inside this house. We must’ve circled the block a few times. 

The house of my mother's grandmother

After not much left to do, we kept on driving. This time, my mom wanted to see the place where her great grandmother’s house was in Colemont. Although the house wouldn’t have been there anymore (due to a flood that washed it away), she recognized the yard instantly and told us how she had the neatest things in her yard, such as an old well. When my sister, Nicoletta was born, my mom brought her here for a five-generation picture that even made the local newspapers. We passed through the town so fast that if you blinked, you missed it! It was Labor Day weekend, too, so parades were happening all over the place. We saw hordes of motorcyclists, and people excitedly waiting for the parade to start. We weren’t going to watch the parade, so we asked my mom what she wanted to see or do next, and she told us she wanted to visit The Coffee Pot. She said that her grandfather would tell her that wherever they were going was just “down the road a piece.” My mom smiled and giggled, and said that meant, it’ll take us awhile to get there. 

My mom with the coffee pot

That was pretty much everywhere we drove in that area. By the time we made it to the Coffee Pot, it was closed but it was a photogenic souvenir. Being avid coffee drinkers, we couldn’t resist but wished it was a real working coffee shop; unfortunately, it doesn’t function that way. The Coffee Pot stands 18 ft. tall and was built in 1927; it used to be a great spot to have lunch with an adjoining gas station, and has been changed over a few times since then. With it being right along the US30 “Lincoln Highway,” it made it an enjoyable spot to visit and we felt that it was a must on our trip there. 

My mom, sister, and I at the Coffee Pot

Immediately leaving The Coffee Pot, our trio decided to visit the one place that has been called a (super) natural phenomenon, Gravity Hill! Cars roll uphill, water flows the wrong way, and gravity is defied by all. It’s also not in a place that a person would expect, either. With a small strip of road, we saw markers that said “start.” We stopped the car and then put it in neutral. With videos playing on our phones to capture the moment of movement, we were shocked the car went up to 15 mph all by itself. When we got out of the car, I can say that I felt a natural pull of pressure that I cannot explain. I couldn’t help but think that my husband, Fernando, would’ve absolutely loved this place, being a person who enjoys stuff like this. We brought from the car, too, empty cans of pop, water, and little balls. To our surprise, everything defied gravity. I have always felt sensitive to my surroundings, and this place felt odd, to me. We had fun watching the pop cans and balls roll in the opposite direction; just feeling a sensation of pressure, sort of like a resistance in the air, was really fascinating. I think we left there feeling quite mesmerized by the whole experience, and I saw why people were drawn to it. 

We stopped to get gas and snacks, and my mom wanted to visit the graves of her grandparents. It was easy to find their graves, and she even found another family member’s grave and the baby she lost. My mom put pretty flowers on the grave, and talked to her grandparents as if they were still living. My mom told us that her grandmother always told her that she wanted this particular burial spot so she could always see her family coming home (imagine a stretch of highway outlined with enormous mountains in the backdrop). The views were just awesome. There’s a picture that I took that doesn’t do the real thing justice; it has the mountains silhouetted in the back, with a blue sky with a winding road of highway, barn silos, and hills that made me think of the Sound of Music. 

The view from my great grandmother's grave

It was the most beautiful, enchanting place, and I saw easily why my mom loved it here so much. Bedford did something to me, and I felt myself say that I couldn’t wait to visit again. Maybe when you have roots somewhere, you’re tied to a place, even if you didn’t expect it to feel that way. I thought about my grandpa a lot. I wondered what he used to do back here growing up. My mom would tell us stories of how he used to take them on drives in the car. He seemed to know the roads without looking at a map, and followed the different color belts to find different things. Getting lost wasn’t a worry–it was part of the fun. I think I inherited that adventure side of my grandpa. I don’t mind getting in the car and seeing where we end up. I felt connected to him in so many ways, and my curiosity kept me asking more questions–and the stories kept coming. I absolutely savored it. 

After all the driving, we decided to venture a little further to Creekside Resort and Ranch for some horseback riding. 

Creekside resort, where we went horseback riding

Pretty sunset views at Creekside Ranch

The stables at Creekside Ranch

We had a private evening one-hour trail ride through the woods and fields of the property. My mom has always loved riding horses. She talked about how her cousins had horses, and how they used to ride them bareback. I had a few family members own horses over the years. I always felt fond of them, as well, and riding them was never something I took for granted. The power these beautiful animals have, even while trotting or full blown running, is majestic (and can be a little scary, if a person isn’t used to it). 

Horses in the fields

My mom petting a horse on the farm

We rode across a creek that was lined with private chalets where people can rent them on the property. I imagined at night that the evening sky would be chock-full of stars–and what a sight that would be. Riding past the cornfields, we discovered some open terrain. My mom wanted to run her horse. We came around a bend and started climbing up a heavily wooded mountain area. We had two guides that were sweethearts, who had grown up around horses their whole lives. The one guide told us how he was dragged by a horse once after being knocked out as a child, and woke up next to it, pretty badly hurt. He said it took a few years to regain confidence to go near them again. Both guides were natural riders. Nikkie stayed behind, as she didn’t want to ride, but my mom and I enjoyed the horses so much. When we got back, it was sad to part with them. 

The day was long, filled with so much driving, but we laughed until our sides hurt many times, and after the horses and minimal snacks for lunch, we were hungry. I made reservations at the Jean Bonnet Tavern for dinner to celebrate my mom’s birthday. All three of us had steak dinners and cheesecake desserts, and all enjoyed it so much. The evening ambience of the tavern was simply beautiful, with glowing lights along the fireplace–and the food was incredible. It was the perfect ending to such an amazing day. Our bellies were full and our eyelids grew heavy; luckily, the driving was over and we headed upstairs to our room where we tossed in for the night. 

On the last day, we were sad to pack up our things, and after breakfast, we loaded up the car. My mom wanted to visit her grandparents’ graves one more time. We soaked in that gorgeous mountain view and savored it, as we said our goodbyes to our loved ones. My mom asked if we could visit at least one of the many covered bridges that Bedford had–and sure enough, right by the cemetery was one that we drove across. 

The view from my great grandmother's grave, where she told the family that she chose this view to see her family coming home

The covered bridge that we visited on the last day

It was lightly raining, but we managed to take a picture of it. We were glad to have seen everything with beautiful weather, so when we were driving home in the rain, we didn’t feel like we were missing out on anything. We stopped by the historic Dean’s Diner in Blairsville to enjoy a late lunch before driving the rest of the way back home. This old-fashioned 1950s-style diner on US 22 is a place many travelers have enjoyed a meal. This entire trip was just incredible. Everything we did was enjoyable. 

Delicious lunch at Dean's Diner on US 22

My mom said that this was the most memorable birthday of her life–and even I can now understand the magic hold that Bedford has over my mom...because now I have it, too. I can’t wait to go back again! 

The beautiful mountains in Bedford

Fast forward nearly a year later…we still talk about that extraordinary trip, and I had a canvassed photo blown up so my mom could hang it in her home to view and remind her of the pure nostalgia that came from that trip, but also many other trips she made in her young life. During this weird quarantine time due to COVID-19, I’m even more grateful that we were able to enjoy such a journey together last year. It makes traveling something we shouldn’t take for granted—enjoying new experiences with the people we care about. I’m even more excited to get out and travel more, and make new memories as soon as we are able to safely, but for now, writing this article has warmed my heart. I had a chance to go down my own memory lane to remember a beautiful and memorable “girls trip” to celebrate my mom’s 60th birthday in Bedford. I will forever cherish this trip, and keep it and all the memories made within it close to my heart. Traveling with my mom and sister was such a special time. I sincerely can’t wait to make more memories–and our reunion after COVID-19 will be that much more special. 

Stasia Lopez is the Global Education Editor for Wandering Educators and is also a Director of Career Services at the Community College of Allegheny County. She graduated with her Master's degree in Educational Leadership in Higher Education and Student Affairs from Western Michigan University in 2013, and earned her Bachelor of Science in Business Administration degree in Hospitality and Tourism Management from Robert Morris University. Stasia is passionate about international education, travel, college to career topics, and loves working on a college campus. She's lived in four different U.S. states (Florida, Michigan, South Carolina, and Pennsylvania) and also studied and lived abroad in Rome, Italy. Stasia lives in the Pittsburgh area with her husband, Fernando, precious daughter, Maya, and playful kitty-cat, Zorro.

All photos courtesy and copyright Stasia Lopez