Mom's The Word.

When I left for the open road back in January, a good friend of mine, Margot, told me that her Mom would love to host me; whenever that may be. Little did I know, it would take me nine months to get to Columbus, Ohio, but I finally stayed with Amy. From a farmer's market in Worthington to driving through the Frank Lloyd Wright-esque homes in one of the many suburbs, we did everything Columbus had to offer. We packed so much into one day that by the time five o'clock rolled around we were ready to sit on the couch with a glass of wine for the evening and chit chat about our mutual connection.

A very livable city is how Columbus has been described to me and after visiting, it makes sense. There's no one particular place that stands out from the rest as the "go to." There are a few must see places but nothing terribly touristy. The local approach to any city is always the way to go so when Margot eagerly sent us a list full of places on the "Margot Tour," I was excited. The list wasn't too long, complete with her high school, the house she grew up in, and Skyline Chili. Most of the stops on the list were food local to Columbus that I couldn't leave without trying, Skyline Chili being one of them. It's a chain restaurant but also a specific kind of chili not just sold at that restaurant and unique to Ohio. It took me a while to wrap my head around that for some reason. I love chili, my step dad makes a mean chili but this was definitely different. Amy had prepped me, telling me either I was going to love it or hate it and that most people aren't somewhere in the middle. The not so secret ingredient of cinnamon gives this winter classic a bit of a kick at the end and I think I may be one of those few people that landed in the middle of love and hate. I'm jumping ahead though, that was dinner. We started with a lunch treat that would become a trend for Amy and I, enjoying some Graeter's Ice Cream at the farmer's market around noon. Not too shabby; nice job, Margs. Continuing the tour, we headed to Short North, an area for the life of me I could not remember the name of and resorted to calling it "The Big Short" instead. Loaded with boutiques, bars, and just about every other person displaying their Ohio State University pride, this neighborhood is bursting at the seams with activity. The overly intimidating campus takes over the majority of Columbus so it makes sense that the coolest part of town is decked out in college students. Fun fact, every game day the fight song interrupts your regularly scheduled top 40 hits over the local radio stations at kickoff. I'm not kidding, there's more college pride in Columbus than anywhere else I've been. We walked the main road and perused little shops before stumbling across an old VW Van completely covered in small toys. It was probably associated with the toy store it was parked in front of, but it wasn't until after I was done taking inventory of every toy on the van that I even noticed. Covered in army men, dinosaurs, scrabble tiles, and color coordinated, the decoration was a well thought out work of art. I wonder how fast you can drive that thing before the little army men have to deploy their parachutes and save themselves in true Toy Story fashion.

I loved hanging out with Amy and having someone to explore with. I usually either make friends while wandering or join a couch surfer for a local tour. This is all well and good, but I particularly enjoyed the company of a familiar face. I've come to realize how that little detail can make all the difference, particularly when you've been traveling as long as I have. Columbus is another one of those cities without much of a downtown to center around other than tall buildings and offices. It's more of a small neighborhood type of place since that's where all the action happens. I compare most cities to Philly, I can't help it, and Philly has an amazing downtown full with so much energy and things to do. The idea of having an area like this that is not populated is weirdly one of the bigger culture shocks thus far. At least, this was the impression I got from Amy up until the truth came out. Apparently downtown is not quite as deserted as I thought but, as Amy will tell you, there's no shopping. When there's no shopping downtown, it doesn't count. Sound logic, I think.

One of my favorite things about Margot is how funny she makes you feel. You could make a joke that blows over everyones head and is barely funny and Margot would die of laughter. It's contagious, too. She always has a smile on her face and it's easy to see where she got that from since Amy is the exact same way. We laughed more than I have in a while and could barely control ourselves when we explored German Village and met the residents. This small section of Columbus was my favorite by far. It should be renamed Brick City because that's exactly what it is. Beautiful brick homes covered in vines, perfectly manicured topiaries out front, Halloween decorations neatly arranged, and the cherry on top; a witch's finger carefully placed in a flower box that I almost missed. It's clear appearance here is important and it made me wonder what the people who lived in the neighborhood were like. I got out of the car, admiring the small side streets and beautiful front doors, a small obsession of mine, and started to take a few photos. I was just about done when I stumbled upon a skeleton hanging from someone's front porch with a sign that said Beck Street Ossuary. I practically jumped with excitement, motioned for Amy to join me, and we followed the skulls leading us into someone's yard completely unannounced. Friendly and inviting, the owners were relaxing in the driveway surrounded by everything Halloween and told us about the event that evening. The Monster Bash was an adult party hop for the neighborhood anyone could attend and since it was early afternoon we were getting a free tour. A $65 ticket would get you access into ten different garages or open houses around the small neighborhood set up in some Halloween fashion, a spiked drink at each, and a dance party after. It was sold out but damn, if that didn't sound like fun. We toured the garage of skull chandeliers and a skeleton wielding a sword on zombie horseback before they urged us to check out the garage across the street. An older couple had made their garage into what looked like a museum of politics. The giant Trump cut out in the corner of the garage made me turn back to Amy on our way up and remark "that Trump better be sarcastic." Beakers of fake blood, thick spider webs, and information sheets with photos decorated the black tables like an overly prepared science student on fair day. Starting a speech that at first was hard to tell whether or not was serious, the older woman told us how the Trump administration had hired them to learn more about their lineage and when they didn't like the results, they defunded them, hence they are in the garage. I giggled, seemingly still a little confused, and took a closer look at the homemade newspaper. The Mindless Gazette had a headline that read "Trumpian Warthog Discovery." I chuckled again and looked at Amy right before we both bursted with laughter. This was my breath of fresh air in Ohio. She took us through her facts of actual warthog traits with a few spins thrown in and if I could have voted for her garage to win, I would have. Bold move, I like it.

Sunday came and went with a gorgeous hike in Hocking Hills State Park, one of Ohio's must see outdoor locations with multicolored rock formations that highlight greens and oranges, even a touch of blue if you look close enough. Tall thinly leaved trees surrounded us as we followed the trail past Cedar Falls, the main attraction, and farther into the park. A stream ran alongside us and multiple times I found myself intrigued by pockets of sun shining through what looked like offshoots of the trail on the opposite bank. Curiosity would win over and Amy waited for me while I climbed whatever I could to get to the other side, one finger on my nose for balance. A group of women walking by started to cheer me on as I waded on a slippery and not so steady log towards the sound of a small waterfall and I focused harder willing myself not to fall. Tucked between the smooth, curved formations was a small waterfall trickling through them and into a pool too far down to see. I took a ton of photos, eager to show Amy what she had missed. All throughout the hike we'd find tall canyon walls peaking through the foliage, their big curves accentuated in the light, resembling pillows stacked one on top of another. Water poured off of tall cliffs above us hitting a central spot on the canyon floor, enough for us to walk around and practically stand under in amazement. If the leaves growing on the boulders didn't already have us looking up, this certainly did the trick. It was honestly one the more unique smaller parks I have been to and I'm so happy I got to share it with Amy and not just in photos.

Having missed West Virginia and not knowing what to do with that, Amy offered to give me a hand in planning. A day detour took me past Cincinnati and the well designed waterfront, baseball stadium, old blue bridge to Kentucky, and onward to Maker's Mark Distillery. Mostly I did this for Nick Daller. He's one of my favorite people with a heart of gold, a Ron Swanson chuckle, and a love for Maker's. I dipped my own bottle, enjoyed the sweet smell of wheat and the brewing bourbon and took a tour of the beautiful grounds. No detail was missed, from the black buildings to the shudders with the bottle cut out and painted red, situated along the rolling green hills of Kentucky. An added bonus were the Chihuly glass sculptures in the courtyards and cellars. The last room, dimly lit, covered in barrels, had a ceiling completely full with hand blown pieces of glass and was my favorite part of that tour.

I made it to West Virginia and it was a brief but rewarding visit and honestly, if I don't tell you about it now I don't know if I ever will. Since it fits in with the Halloween theme it seems like as good a time as any. I stopped in Kenova for about an hour and here's why. For the past twenty years at the same house along the Ohio River where he and his wife live, Rick has been decorating his house with 3,000 pumpkins. It's such a spectacle that the town finally wised up and created an autumn fest to go along with his Halloween celebration. I was about a week too early to help carve or see the pumpkins on display but being the kind and generous person that he is, Rick happily gave me a tour of his Halloween spooktacular. We stepped through the gate to the backyard and boom, pumpkins. More pumpkins than I've ever seen in one place. They all had images drawn on them and ready to carve. This year the theme is music and trombones, trumpets, violins, are just a few on the list of instruments. He has about one thousand volunteers help him carve for one week prior to the unveiling the Saturday before Halloween and I wondered if that would be enough. Easier jack-o-lanterns for the kids are in one section, harder presidential faces ready to be carved by adults are over in the garage. I found the liberty bell pumpkin while he described to me the town history and how Kenova is actually a name made up of Kentucky, Ohio, and Virginia. If only I had been there ten days later, I thought. Rick gave me a few postcards of the house at night lit up by those 3,000 pumpkins without even knowing I collect them and suddenly an idea hit me. I addressed the postcard to myself and slapped a stamp on it and gave it back to him. "What do you want me to write?" he asked, "just tell me how it went," I responded excitedly. I can't wait to see what he says and how the pumpkins turned out. I love the idea of sending myself a postcard, I'm surprised I haven't thought of it sooner. Before I left, Rick gave me some pointers on which way to go to head back up to Cleveland and what to see. He was the first person I can remember on this trip that gave me directions away from a highway. I'm not sure how he knew that was preferred but I'm guessing it was because of his love for tiny towns like me. I smiled and noted the subtly of what he did and appreciated that he didn't assume I would want the fastest route, just the prettiest.

Ahh, the little things.

- G.

The Photo:
Looking up.
Hocking Hills State Park.
Logan, Ohio.
10/15/17.