Agriculture, Thunderstorms, Carryouts, and Power Outages

I warned you all to stand by for some agriculture.

Just east of Helena, Ohio, the clouds started gathering in the north and the west.  The wind, which had been steadily blowing at about twelve miles an hour out of the southwest veered to the north, and became noticeably cooler.

Thunderstorm Gathering to the North near Helena, OH

We still had two miles to go, and we weren't sure what kind of shelter awaited us on the other end.  What had been a leisurely saunter, turned into a bit of a quick march.

One thing I don't understand.  Dad's about two inches shorter than I am, and he doesn't have particularly long legs.  His turnover rate doesn't appear to be any faster than mine, but man, can he cover some ground when he's motivated.  I was practically jogging to keep up with his diner breakfast fueled walk.

My phone buzzed.  I checked the display. Google very helpfully notified us that the National Weather Service had issued a severe thunderstorm warning right in the middle of our path.  The quick stepping, on Dad's part, and my awkward wog, an ungainly combination of a walk and a jog, continued.

Two miles down the path, we made it to our destination without a drop hitting either of us.  Thank goodness for Rob's Carryout. It was like a convenience store, but with a bay to drive through and pick up your beef jerky, among other things.  The woman working the counter graciously allowed us to seek cover in the drive through bay, and we were finally able to make it safely and dryly to our motel room....which had no power.

Storm Related Power Outage in the Motel Room - Fremont, OH

Dad didn't miss a beat.  He removed his sweaty shirt, pulled out his headlamp and started to go at his social media accounts like some sort of seventy-eight year old millennial.  He says he's not very good at the social media stuff, but I'm not sure I believe him.

Bottom line.  We got a front row seat to the power of nature and thanks to some good fortune and helpful people were able to weather the storm with nothing more serious than a handful of laughs.

Trout Club Crashers

We’re back in farm country, and I spent most of the morning trying to figure out what I was going to photography and write about that wasn’t just a rehash of the material from the Massachusetts, New York, and Pennsylvania agricultural periods of the pilgrimage.

Train Graffiti - Sandusky, OH

We did get stopped by a train for about ten minutes, and there was some pretty cool graffiti.  Could that be the big story of the day? I was skeptical.

Unusual Stream in the Middle of Nowhere Full of Trout

Don't know what this is?  Well we didn't either, so what are a couple of hot and thirsty hikers to do? Probably not what we did....as it turns out.

First I tried the back door to the building that was overlooking this festive little brook.  It was open, so I walked in. I looked around and quickly surmised that it had every appearance of an industrial kitchen.

"It's a kitchen," I announced out the door to Dad.    The retort came back from outside the door. "Good....it's probably a good place to get water."

I glanced around again.  No one had seen me yet, but still...."I don't think so.  Let's go around front."

The gate was open, and the path led up to the second story deck overlooking this stream.  This time I made Dad go first. He opened the first door and started to walk into what looked like some sort of banquet or meeting facility.

"I don't like the looks of this.  Maybe we should try another door," I warned.

He walked out again, and we noticed there was someone behind what looked a little like a set of French doors.  Dad walked up and gave one side a mighty tug. Turns out they weren't French doors. They were sliding doors.

"I think they're sliding doors," I offered helpfully.

"I don't think so," came the reply.

"No I'm pretty sure...."

A man previously unnoticed slid the door open.

"Well, I guess they are sliding doors," Dad quipped as he stuck his head into the opening.

"Can a couple of weary hikers get some water?"

I had a bad feeling about this.  I edged around the balcony and looked down on the stream.  It was full of trout, and toward what appeared to be the actual front of the building, the little creek seemed to wind around in big loops.  The grounds were immaculately kept. The grass was mowed and the willows overhanging the stream provided shade on the water but were trimmed in a way that provided easy access to the banks. There were fifteen fishermen all decked out in their fly fishing best. Wooden hoop nets, split bamboo fly rods, wicker fish creels, and golf carts to move them along the stream.

I turned around just in time to see a young lady come out with two styrofoam cups of water.

"What is this place anyway?" I inquired.

"It's a trout club.  A MEMBERS ONLY trout club.  I brought you some waters, but I really can't let you hang out here.  I don't want to lose my job."

Now in addition to prospectors, we've been mistaken for trout club crashers, only this time, the accusation was completely in keeping with the facts.

Yet Another Red Barn and Some Crops

This little encounter saved you all from yet another picture of a red barn surrounded by fields of newly germinating crops.  It probably won't play out that way again, so stand by for some agriculture.

Pinball Wizard

What do you do when you take a day off from walking to get a little rest?  If your hotel has a game room (seriously, I didn't think game rooms existed anymore), you might drop a small fortune in quarters proving quite scientifically that you are NOT a pinball wizard.

Pinball Machine in the Hotel Game Room - Sandusky, OH

What a fun step back in time.  Non-walking days, however necessary, are a little tough on me.  I get used to the momentum of the road. They rhythmic squeak of my pack straps (and sometimes my back).  Staying put just about drives me crazy. Pinball this afternoon was just the thing for a little distraction.

We talked about visiting Cedar Point Amusement Park, paticipating in Ohio Bike Week, or going to the Comic Con that’s in town up the road.  All of these ideas were ultimately vetoed as being not restful enough.

Back to the asphalt tomorrow.

What's your favorite arcade story?

Jay's n2n observations; May 30, 2019.

We Iimited yesterday's walk (May 29)  to 8.7 miles, stopping in a Best Western Plus hotel in south east Sandusky OH.  This was the 23rd day straight we've walked, covering 357 miles during that time.  We're both tired, and wanting/needing amenities usually not available in the "mom & pop" motels still available off the interstates.  (And those m&p motels are becoming pretty infrequent). So, we diverted to a different type accommodation -- one close to a major road and offering more standard, predictable amenities and nearby services (read that "Wal Marts, major chain eating establishments, expansive grocery stores",  etc)) The Interstate system has resulted in a MAJOR IMPACT on the communities that developed around (or "guided") the US highway system. Traveling a route based on the US highways is revelatory in many, many ways. It immediately drives home the stark reality of how overwhelmingly our society/culture has an infrastructure that is dependent on high speed, long range, powered vehicle travel/transportation. (It is not "pedestrian friendly")  This dependence is a major driver in life style adjustments necessary to pursue an activity like ours, and discovering those adjustments continues to be an unfolding saga. For example, the items available to/for us on a continuing basis are what we can carry in our packs. Or can acquire in transit. Sources for which availability is frequently in question. (Google Maps is a great resource in this regard.) We each have Osprey packs rated for approximately 55-58 liters volume.  We're trying to keep the weight to approximately 25 lbs. Pretty severe limitations for a many week activity. In that regard, and for example, we are limiting ourselves to 2 sets/days of clothing (weight and volume). This is a challenge, given our penchant for personal hygiene. (The topic of this and other necessary adjustments will be amongst my infrequent blog entries -- but I don't know how much interest you readers may have in that aspect of our experiences.) Such minimizing is essential, and a major challenge.  And each minimization action has overlapping impact. Josh has been doing a very good job of describing our "adventure experiences", and his emphasis is pretty much depicting the positive aspects. But you may not pick up on what's necessary to achieve those positive experiences. This type of adventure is not for everybody -- but I strongly endorse it for those who want to do something like it. It has been (and continues to be) challenging to my mindset in many areas and ways.
    I've let this ramble on too long, and too broadly.   So, I'll truncate it here. Is this type "adventure philosophizing" of  interest to you readers ? Or should I stick to the less analytical aspect ? We're having a great, enlightening, challenging and culturally broadening adventure.   It's effecting change(s) in me. Thank all of you for providing encouragement, endorsement, advice, insights and other support in it -- in multitudes of ways, including emotional support.  And thank you for reading. . Jay

Habits and Water Features

You get to learn a lot about the habits of your hiking partner on trips like this.  

One thing I've noticed about Dad is that he cannot pass up the opportunity to study a creek, river, lake, pond, or any other sort of water feature that the road happens to cross. He has a hard time passing up an old style diner as well, but that's a story for a different day.

Snowy Egret on a Creek

He says he's looking for fish, but I strongly suspect he's just taking a little rest.  I know I welcome these stops for that very reason.

We rarely see fish, but this time we did see an egret.  We concluded that there were fish in the water since the egret just seemed to be hanging out stalking the shoreline.

Today was the twenty third day in a row of making forward progress.  We're on the southeast edge of Sandusky, OH, and we're going to take a day off tomorrow to recover a little for the next push to the border between Ohio and Indiana a few days down the path.

Hope you all had a great Hump Day!

Lighthouses, Shipwrecks, Weather, and Neighbors

Vermillion Lighthouse - Vermillion, Ohio

The lighthouses on this side of Lake Erie are not the grand structures that I'm used to seeing on the East Coast, but they, nevertheless, were quite necessary in the days before satellite aided navigation.

The Great Lakes hold an estimated six to eight thousand shipwrecks with estimated loss of life totalling about thirty thousand mariners.  

Approximately two thousand of those wrecks lie at the bottom of Lake Erie.  Of those two thousand wrecks, identified through record searches and historical reports, a little less than four hundred have been located and mapped.

The two thousand ships lost in Lake Erie represent one of the highest concentrations of shipwrecks in the world.

Though the lighthouses around Lake Erie no longer serve as the primary method to aide sailors' safe navigation, they do serve as a tangible reminder that the forces of nature are always powerful and sometimes unforgiving.

Today, the news is full of reports of the impact that powerful thunderstorms with some tornadoes in the midwest, in general, and Ohio in particular that occured recently in the region.

Thus far, the only consequence visited on the pilgrimage has been about a half hour spent in the mailbox area of a mobile home park with a handy overhang during a relatively brisk rain.  We remain vigilant, but rumors of impending disaster remain greatly exaggerated in the small and slowly moving diameter of our advance.

While we're not walking for any particular cause, the American Red Cross is an organization that is always present to offer support to people impacted by all manner of trouble.

If this walk has proven anything to me, it's that in spite of our many apparent differences, we're all in this together, for good or for ill.  Helping your neighbor, even if they live in another state, or are just passing through, is always a good thing to do.

I know we've benefited from the generosity of those helping us from the very first day that we started.

Memories, Stories, and Another Great Group of People

I trust everyone had a fine Memorial Day, and I'm grateful for the people who made the ultimate sacrifice to allow us to have a the opportunity to experience a good one ourselves.

There must be something in the water in Eastern, OH.  Trundling into Avon on a hot spring day, we were stopped at the edge of the Road by Joe and his son Tom. They brought us water, and let us try to explain the craziness that we’ve managed to get ourselves into. It was a rewarding exchange, and the water was just the right thing at just the rigth time.

Dad is a storyteller.  Get around him for just a split second, and you'll find yourself listening to some sort of story.  Some of the stories are parables meant to teach some sort of lesson, but most of them are just plain fun.

The Old Ford Tractor Across the Road - Avon, OH

A little way down the road, still in Avon, OH, I spied this tractor sitting in someone's front yard. It reminded me of a story Dad tells about the time he almost drove a late 1940's Ford Tractor through the back wall of the garage at his parent's house because he confused the foot rests for the brake pedals.  Grandpa Price hopped on the back and managed to get the machine stopped just in the nick of time. I'm sure I've heard that story tens if not hundreds of times.

Dad, reliving that fateful ride from seventy-one years ago.

Tractor Joe, the owner of the tractor saw us taking pictures and came out of his house to give us the history of his machine.  He also let Dad relive that fateful ride he’d taken seventy-one years ago. Fortunately, no barns were harmed in the process.

Joe and his son had completely restored this 1952 Ford Tractor that had been passed down from his own father.  Previously a farm, mowing, and snow plowing machine, this tractor has found continued life in tractor shows and parade appearances.  Joe drove it in the Avon, OH Memorial Day Parade at nine am today which, sadly, we missed.

Hearing the history and seeing Dad retell his own tale of fond memories of an old Ford Tractor was the highlight for both of us today.  

Dad and Tractor Joe swapping tall tales.

A little farther down the path in Amherst, OH, we were sitting on the freshly painted, but dry (we checked) bench at the Borman’s Farm Stand when Susan came out to see what were were doing.  She was a little worried that we were going to stand up with “white paint on our pants” from her fresh painting earlier in the day. Another round of storytelling commenced, and I was afforded a much needed twenty minute rest.

Dad and Susan after yet another round of tall tales.

Thanks for a great experience, Joe, Tom, Tractor Joe and Susan.  Another great set of examples where great people went out of their way to help make our pilgrimage a success.

The Jumping-Off Point

Today, we cleared the city of Cleveland to the west and ended a shortish saunter in Rocky River, OH. We also marked our twentieth straight day of slowly sauntering forward.

Bidding Cleveland Farewell

It's a bittersweet departure.  Crossing cities is always a bit of a challenge, but Cleveland treated us well.  From the food to the art to the friendships, the three day crossing proved to be an excellent opportunity for a little recovery while still making forward progress. We crossed paths with a friend and colleague who is travelling their own path, but the time our trails ran in parallel were some of the highest highlights from the last fifty-six days on the road.  We'll miss the banter, and hope we share the trail with you at a not too distant time in the future.

Dad put his skepticism aside for a couple of hours and visited the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. I’m not sure he really enjoyed it, but he reports that it triggered some moments of introspection. I’m not sure Rock & Roll Hall of Fame and introspection have ever been written in the same sentence before, but I, for one, think it’s great.

I experienced my own moment of growth when I put aside my general dislike of seafood and sampled a walleye sandwich. I don’t know what I expected, but I know I didn’t anticipate the emergence of a gustatory delight.  That sucka’ was tasty.

In many ways, leaving Cleveland feels like we've reached the real jumping-off point in our journey.  The expanse of the American West stretches before us, and the vast (relative) emptiness is quite daunting if we think too much about it. Fortunately for us, we've learned quite a few lessons along the way, and we've never been accused of being too very deep, intellectually speaking.  I'm optimistic.

Thanks to all the people who have helped us along the way. The water on the side of the road, a filling meal, a place to stay, words of encouragement, moments of laughter and camaraderie too numerous to count, sage advice on places to go and places to avoid, the offers of rides that we had to reject, and the welcoming porch that kept us dryish during a passing rainshower.  I’m sure I’ve missed many ways that the people we’ve known and the people we’ve met have enriched our travels, and I apologize for the oversights.

Know that we are grateful to you all.  We would not have gotten this far without your generous support and encouragement. Now, on to the west.