Welcome to Raymond Sands' warehouse - the back of a 12-year-old red Dodge pick-up truck filled with what many folks would call junk. But, to Ray, everything has a purpose.

TRUCK DRIVER RAYMOND SANDS relaxes next to his "warehouse", the back of a pickup truck in Tunkhannock, PA. Sands has a use for almost everything in the truck, but he says none of it is worth much money.

"I use these ratchet straps to hold down a load on my truck," he said, pointing to a box full of thick cloth straps. "This here pole is used to hold a four-by-four in the ground - that metal box would make a nice little flower pot," he said pointing to a shiny rectangular metal bin on the passengers side of the truck.

"Here's my spare tire," he said, picking up a mechanical inflator next to the would-be flower pot. The big old milk can is for a relative who collects things like that.

I met Ray in Tuckhannock, PA - where the Endless Mountains begin. His stringy, shoulder-length gray hair and matching beard create the image of a man who knows his way around the countryside. But Ray knows a thing or two about people and cars, too.

Photographer Travis Lindhorst and I are in the fourth week of our trip across the U.S. on Route 6. I walk about 20 miles a day, staying in local hotels and inns. Travis drops me off at the start of each morning's walk and picks me up each night. We're taking the pulse of America as we travel along Route 6 from Cape Cod, MA to Long Beach, CA.

When Travis caught up with Ray and I in Tunkhannock, Ray insisted on looking under the hood of our subcompact car. He checked the oil and noticed it was nearly dry. Ray may have saved our little car and preserved our coast-to-coast journey.

"You have to check the oil every day before you start driving. And the water (antifreeze), and the breaks, and the tires," said Ray, who drove a truck for 30 years even though he has little depth perception in one eye. When it was time to renew his license, Ray passed eye tests by memorizing the eye charts and using his good eye to determine what line he'd be asked to read next.

Well, that's the way he tells the story.

Ray bought most of the goods in his truck at auctions or picked them up cheaply from individual sellers. He doesn't worry about someone walking off with his unguarded merchandise.

"There's not much there worth stealing," he said.

DEEP INTO A MINE

If you traveled deep inside the Lackawanna Coal Mine a century ago, you'd find eight-year old kids with coal-dust black faces working in the darkness.

For most of them, it was the start of a career that guaranteed backbreaking labor, low pay, debt, and if they lived long enough, black lung disease.

COAL MINER At the Coal Miner's Museum in Scranton, PA a display shows a Coal Miner's dark cramped conditions during the 1900's when working in the mines.

This little story is a homage - a thank-you note, really - to the workers who built the world we inherited. I could send the note to most any family that has its roots in the Scranton, PA area.

"My dad worked in the mines, my grandfather worked in the mines," said Lee Ruch, a mine foreman at the Lackawanna (cq) coal mine. Lee followed his elders into the mines. Now he, too, has black lung disease.

"You can't work in the mines for any length of time without getting it," said Lee, who worked the fields south of Scranton for more than two decades.

"I loved it. I loved the challenge, the danger. You're standing on a one-inch thick board, holding a drill over your head, putting holes in the coal," he said.

Today, anybody can travel deep into the Lackawanna tunnels. The mine closed in 1967, but Lackawanna County transformed it into a tourist attraction.

As you ride down the steep shaft, you'll see the entrance gradually get smaller, then disappear. At the bottom, you'll chill in the 50-degree coolness as you walk through tunnels carved out by workers decades ago.

Above, wooden beams hold the anthracite in place. Below you walk on corridors where mules once hauled car-loads of coal. Many of the mules spent their entire lives underground.

The miners' lives weren't much better. Before the unions, miners were independent contractors with no benefits and few rights. The worked alone or with a helper and were paid by amount of coal they produced. They paid for the materials they used and they paid their helpers' salary. Their salary was in company script, so they bought everything in the company store. Most of them lived in company houses.

A worker in a good section of the mine could fill several car-loads a day. Less fortunate workers would crawl uphill deep into two-or-three wide seams to scrape out small amounts of coal.

Other than the faint light from their miner's cap they worked in pitch-black darkness. If you take the tour, put your hand in front of your face when they turn the lights out. You won't see it.

The workers fed the mine's rats, because the rodents would sometimes sense a tremble before humans.

"When the miners saw a bunch of rats running, they'd run too," said Tour Guide Merlin Phillips.

Most of the miners were European immigrants and their descendants, who came to the Scranton area when coal fueled the nation's homes and industries. Eastern Pennsylvania contains three-quarters of the world's anthracite or hard coal.

"In the early 1800's this was one of the first industries in the valley, it was all the immigrants had," Phillips said.

Today, the Lackawanna mine property has been converted into McDade Park, a local recreation area, including a Mining Museum and the mine tour, which attracts about 65,000 visitors a year. It's well worth the visit. You can get more information at: www.lackawannacounty.org.

SMALL TOWNS, BIG PEOPLE

North of Scranton, Route 6 runs through small communities like Hawley and Honesdale before dipping south into Scranton then heading north and west into even smaller towns like Meshoppen and Wyalusing.

Step into some of these towns and you can feel the slower pace. People have time for each other. People greeted me as I came into their towns. They beeped as they drove by. They walked up to offer encouragement. They offered water, sport drinks and food. It was as though I was part of the family.

Shohola Falls, east of Lake Wallenpaupack, is a local hidden attraction often passed by motorists driving on Route 6.

In Honesdale, I met high school kids who volunteered their time to run an engraving and picture transfer store where the proceeds go to local charities.

"Each year, we get more and more business. It's really busy in December," said 17-year-old Scott Thebald.

In White Mills, 7-year-old Mikey Ellis greeted me with a banana and a dollar bill. His brother Rob also offered a dollar.

White Mills is not prosperous community, but they sure know how to share.

"This is the only place we found a house big enough that we could afford," said Mickey's mom, Betty. "It's small, it's quiet and I like the schools."

In summer Rob and Mikey can fish and swim in the Lackawaxen River, which runs along Route 6 from Hawley to Honesdale.

"They call the part where we swim - Bare Butt," Mikey said. Hmm. I guess you can figure out why.

In the early 1800's the Delaware and Hudson Canal ran next to the Lackawaxen. It carried barges of coal from Honesdale to the Hudson River and New York.

"It was the little sister of the Erie Canal," said Sally Toga, director of the Canal and Railroad Museum in Honesdale. Inside the museum, you'll see the Stourbridge Lion, the first locomotive used in the U.S. It's a big, black, and red beasty that was supposed to help haul coal from Carbondale over to the Moosic range to the canal in Honesdale.

Mules, and later tow ropes linked to stationary engines, hauled coal cars up the western side of the Moosics. The cars glided down, by gravity, on the eastern side to the canal.

The locomotive was supposed to make the trip more quickly, but it didn't work out, so the mine owners returned to their gravity system.

Route 6 pretty much follows the old railroad route from Honesdale to Carbondale. But today, you'll find dozens of 200-foot-high windmills churning atop the Moosics.

A stretch of 6 north of Scranton is called Big 6 Highway in honor Christy Mathewson - the Hall of Famer, who played for the New York Giants in baseball's early years. He was the Michael Jordan of his day. The Babe Ruth, before there was a Babe Ruth. He was a hitter, a fielder and a pitcher.

"He once pitched three games of the World Series - I think it was 1907 - and won all three," said Scott Jones, athletic director at Keystone College, Mathewson's alma mater.

Mathewson, who wore number 6, is still an idol at the college and in nearby Factoryville (his hometown). There's a Mathewson mural in the Village Center.

ENDLESS MOUNTAINS

As you enter Tuckhannock, there's a sign that says: "Welcome to the Endless Mountains." It's not exactly what you want to see when you're on foot. But you can't help loving the place. Walking through towns Tunkhannock and Wyalusing is like stepping back in time. If you like old wooden buildings and down-home friendliness you should stop in. Tuckhannock still has a local department store and an old-fashioned movie theater.

You wonder how long that can last. Just down the road, they recently built the state's largest warehouse. It's a half-mile long giant that attracts up to 2,000 trucks a day - and it may expand.

The Endless Mountains are low, so far, but the views are wonderful. On overcast days, the clouds cover the hilltops and seem to tumble down the hillsides, like whipped cream on a dark green sundae.

On clear days, you look over the Susquehanna River, farms and fields -- and yes, a seemingly endless series of mountains.