Pennsylvanian: Into the valleys

Is Pennsylvania the most misunderstood state in America? Texas, ever with spurs on its boots and a chip on its shoulder, likes to claim to be misunderstood; but given that it has produced the warlike presidents Johnson (Vietnam) and Bush (Iraq), it may actually be understood all too well. In New York State, meanwhile, legions of upstaters continually rail at being associated with a teeming, chaotic New York City; their claims of being misunderstood have a touch of irony, given that they involve the home of Woody Allen.

And then there's Pennsylvania. The 33rd largest of the 50 states is misunderstood because for most, there's little to understand. Its national profile is low – except when one of its sports teams does well, someone flaps their trap (a now-former senator made gay-bashing part of his re-election campaign) or something goes amiss (such as Three Mile Island, the nuclear plant that had the good timing to almost melt down at the same time The China Syndrome was hitting the cinemas). The "armpit of America", as Time described north-east Pennsylvania, is even the setting for the US version of The Office.

Despite this, Pennsylvania has a rich history. It's proud of its slogan, "the Keystone State", which adorns everything from road signs to fast-food marquees. Thomas Jefferson coined the term in 1802 when he called the state "the keystone in the federal union", a description both figuratively true in terms of the young nation and literally true on a map, the smaller colonial states arching away from the keystone north and south.

Locals have clung to the motto, as nothing better has come along since. And in many ways that's the story of Pennsylvania. Its first city, Philadelphia, was the centre of the American universe in the 18th century; the nation's first bank, stock exchange and hospital were all here; the Declaration of Independence was proclaimed in Philadelphia.

Today's celebration of St David's Day is also relevant: this is the territory where thousands of Welsh miners settled in the 19th century. Like the Valleys of South Wales, it is reinventing itself. The "armpit" has become a New York City "exurb", with McMansion-owners commuting up to three hours one-way.

The reality is that Pennsylvania is much more rural and backwater than you'd think from the Big Smoke in the east. Its shoebox shape has terrain that's not unlike a carelessly thrown blanket, with ripples and wrinkles running its length. These relentless mountains and valleys have been both curse and promise to the state.

The curse involves transport. Early settlers would battle their way over one ridge only to be rewarded with yet more ridges stretching to the horizon. However, these same settlers also found fortune (or at least a living) inside these hills and along the narrow valleys below. Each ripple in the fabric of the state masked a seam of coal, while the valleys were cleaved by rivers that offered a myriad of uses to industry. Pennsylvania pioneered coal-mining and steel-making in the US after the technology – as well as the railroads to serve it – were brought from the UK in the middle of the 19th century.

More importantly, thousands upon thousands of immigrants came not only from Wales, but also England, Scotland, Ireland and various central European countries. Between 1830 and 1870, the state's population almost tripled, to four million. Leaving behind their battered lands, these new arrivals must have truly thought, "How green is my valley?" – at least until they started digging it up.

Today, most of the industry is gone. Trains zip across the state, laden with cheap Chinese DVD players and endless loads of high-carbon coal.

It's what remains that holds promise for travellers. Away from the east, those endless hills still act as a barrier, and within the many green valleys are small towns as charming as any of their more storied New England counterparts – but lacking hire-car traffic, twee B&Bs and hordes of leaf-peepers. And the regions that the state's own tourism board describes as "The Wilds" and "The Alleghenies and Her Valleys" have an authenticity lacking in Pennsylvania's more renowned tourist destinations in the east: the hopelessly fudge-shop-packed Amish country and the schlock nightmare of Gettysburg.

The way to appreciate Pennsylvania is to head west on one of the big Interstate highways: I-80 in the north, I-76 in the south. At about the time you'd pass a line running north-south through Harrisburg (not worth a stop), plunge into the fabric of the state. Drive with the sun on any little two-laner with 22 in its number (although just plain Highway 6 in the far north is a winner as well). Look for little towns that speckle the mountains like coal dust on fresh snow, interspersed with interesting regional towns such as Altoona or Johnstown. Follow the roads as they dip and twist through the green hills and valleys. Watch for deer, which have staged a real comeback, defying the best efforts of trigger-happy hunters in the territory where The Deer Hunter was set.

Altoona, deep in the Allegheny Mountains, made its name tackling the curse of transportation. It was home to the mythic Pennsylvania Railroad, which called itself the "standard railroad of the world". Now merged out of existence, the sheer brawn that the PRR brought to tackling the mountains is on display at the Railroaders Memorial Museum downtown. Nearby B&Bs combine workaday functionality with views of the still-busy tracks. For better views of the trains (spotters take note) and of the verdant, sinuous Alleghenies, visit nearby Horseshoe Curve. The busiest line between Chicago and New York almost curves back upon itself in a setting that is now a National Monument; the museum runs a delightful viewing centre.

From here, head south-west, first on Highway 22 and then on State Road 271 to Johnstown. Noted for its deadly floods, the city was an early steel-making centre by virtue of its steep and beautiful valley, which funnelled the river waters that powered industry – and washed away the population.

Today, a small car carrier, the 'Inclined Plane', still creaks up the side of a hill from the compact downtown. Go to the top, where you can see the beautiful houses where the mill managers lived while their workers drowned below, and enjoy the views from a cute little café.

An excellent museum downtown commemorates the 1889 flood, which killed over 2,200 people; a short, lovely drive takes you to the site of the dam that caused it. A posh resort for summering swells, the dam held back a stocked lake, where steel magnates fished and pooh-poohed the warnings that the dam was dodgy. An excellent museum run by the National Park Service contrasts the lives of the people above and below the dam. Trails lead through the now serene woods to the site of the dam failure.

Like the rest of this region, Johnstown and Cambria County are isolated from 21st-century development. Prowl the rural roads and you'll pass mountain lakes, road houses serving up hearty, non-franchised fare (largely combinations of beef, potatoes and cheese) and natural springs disgorging pure, sweet water – look for locals lugging containers. A profusion of tiny towns are caught in time warps dating back to 1758, when a British general, John Forbes, fought to rid the region of a nascent French presence in the form of trappers and fort-builders.

Forbes and company built their own fort in Ligonier, a delightful place in the Laurel Highlands south-west of Johnstown on a superb stretch of historic Highway 30. The town still has an actual centre (as opposed to a hole caused by a suburban Wal-Mart) and the tree-flanked square is lined with shops and cafés. The fort is being restored and is part of a state park. For something more modern, head south a bit to Mill Run, where Frank Lloyd Wright's Fallingwater seems to grow organically out of the hillside above a waterfall. This 1935 masterpiece is a pilgrimage spot for architects and those with a design fetish.

At the west end of the state, the towns of Erie and Pittsburgh will muddle your understanding of Pennsylvania again – they have much in common with the troubled east. So keep a clarity of vision and stick to the middle of the Keystone State, where enlightenment is always just around the bend.

Traveller's guide

GETTING THERE

Philadelphia is served by BA (0844 493 0787; www.ba.com) from Heathrow and US Airways (0845 600 3300; www.usairways.com) from Gatwick and Manchester, and from 30 March from Heathrow.

To reduce the impact on the environment, you can buy an "offset" through Abta's Reduce My Footprint initiative (020-7637 2444; www.reducemyfootprint.travel).

STAYING THERE

Campbell House, 305 E Main St, Ligonier (001 724 238 9812; www.soupkid.com). Double rooms from $97 (£51), including breakfast.

VISITING THERE

Fort Ligonier, Ligonier (001 724 238 9701; www.fortligonier.org). Open May-Oct, Mon-Sat 10.30am-4.30pm, Sun from noon; $8 (£4.20).

Fallingwater, State Rd 381, Mill Run (001 724 329 8501; www.fallingwater.org). Open Mar-Nov, Tues-Sun 10am-4pm; tours $16 (£8.40).

Railroaders Memorial Museum, 1300 9th Ave, Altoona (001 814 946 0834; www.railroadcity.com). Open Apr-Dec, Mon-Sat 10am-5pm, from 11am Sun; $8 (£4.20).

Johnstown Flood Museum, 304 Washington St, Johnstown (001 814 539 1889; www.jaha.org). Open daily 10am-5pm; $6 (£3.20).

Johnstown Flood National Memorial, 733 Lake Road, South Fork (001 814 495 4643; www.nps.gov/jofl). Open daily 9am-5pm.

MORE INFORMATION

Pennsylvania Tourism: 001 800 847 4872; www.visitpa.com

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