Ohio Travels

On Monday, August 4th, 2013, HD and I crossed into Ohio on hwy 24, the beloved hwy that took us through Indiana with such delight. The goal for the day was Independence Dam State Park, just east of Defiance, Ohio. The highway traffic was picking up and the road was not as nice as in Indiana. Sorry, Ohio. But, I understood: the further east we traveled, the heavier the traffic was bound to become. So, I got off the highway and traveled next to the river on county road 424, which became Baltimore Rd as it approached Defiance. The southwest end of Defiance was “old industrial”, giving the impression that the town would be rather unattractive. But, lo, and behold, as you get into the city itself, you see old brick homes, parks, joggers, people walking their dogs and a quaint downtown area. I continued east until I reached the newer shopping and restaurant district, with all the names you know: Walmart, Walgreens, CVS, McDonalds, Wendys, etc. We had left the old midwestern feel and now we could be in any city in the USA. I stopped at a McDonalds for a drink and to make phone calls. Good thing. The campground had closed and there wasn’t anywhere to camp in 20 miles. So, I settled for a Super 8, which meant I had to backtrack through town and cross the junction of hwys 24 and 15. It was an uneventful night, but I had my Subway salad, so I was a happy camper. Well, I guess I wasn’t camping. But that’s just mincing words.

As I traveled through Ohio, I regularly sent iPhone photos of the sky to my daughter Heather. We had lived here when the kids were little and the sky was usually colored white to a very pale blue. Deep blue skies in Ohio were reserved for the 2 weeks of Indian summer in late September. When we lived in the Columbus area, I found myself waiting for those 2 weeks every year. I thought, “Hey, this is CRAZY!! I’m waiting all year just to have 2 weeks of weather I actually LIKE!”  This said from a southern California girl. 

That is one of many reasons we moved to New Mexico when I graduated from OSU: for the deep blue skies. Heather said she didn’t know what I meant when I had described  “deep blue skies”, until we moved to New Mexico. Now, she and her husband and daughter live in Rio Rancho, in central New Mexico. This area is at a higher elevation, with clear seasons, including plenty of snow in the winter. But the skies, oh, the skies. The clouds roll in, shedding rain or snow, and then they blow away, exposing those sapphire skies once again. So, while in Ohio, Heather and I shared sky photos. I sent her Ohio photos and she sent me New Mexico pics. I must admit, it made me homesick for New Mexico. And for Heather.

On Tuesday, August 6th, HD and I pointed ourselves toward the KOA near Genoa. It was a bit out of the way, taking me farther north than I intended, and there were no stores nearby. But, we made it and I needed to skip a big meal anyway!

On Wednesday, August 7th, I was sent on detours due to road construction and eventually made it to Elmore. From there, I cycled the North Coast Inland Trail to Fremont.  While on that trail, the skies opened and lightning and thunder accompanied the deluge of rain. I was thoroughly soaked but hid under trees as best I could until at least the lightning stopped. I donned my Frogtog jacket but my cycling skorts were so doggone wet I just couldn’t stand the idea of putting on the rain pants on top of them!  When I cycled into Fremont, the rain was dissipating and I went into a McDonalds to get a coffee to warm up. Everyone was staring and I must’ve been a sight, leaving a puddle wherever I stood. LOL!

So, I grabbed the coffee, went into the bathroom and into a stall and removed panties and skorts, wringing them out and then putting them back on. Then, I went to the rather weak hand driers and partially dried my skorts, while wearing them, for about 3 minutes, rotating, lifting skirt to get the bottoms, etc. If anyone had walked in, they probably would have been embarassed. Or I guess that would have been me.  At least I wasn’t dripping anymore and no one stared, much, when I went back into the restaurant to drink my coffee!

Then, it was on to Sandusky via county roads. HD and I rolled into Jean Nyman’s neighborhood about 6:15 pm. She was outside, camera in hand, with her bichon frise dog Lacey leaping at her feet. Jean took welcome photos of HD and I coming down her street and onto her driveway. This gracious, generous woman rolled out the red carpet. She put a welcome basket of goodies on the guest room bed in a big bowl: green grapes, dark red cherries (my favorite!!), granola bars, an apple, and a container of oatmeal. Jean has followed this blog from the beginning and has sent encouraging words on a regular basis. People like Jean are one in a million.

We talked for awhile and then she took me on a driving trip around Sandusky, including to the Erie shore, and then treated me to dinner. This was an interesting day, full of surprises along the way.

I spent the next day in Sandusky, writing in the afternoon in a nearby Starbucks. Jean picked me up in the late afternoon and we went to her son and daughter-in-law’s home in the early evening for a vegan dinner. There I met Timothy, her son, and Josiah, her grandson. Annessia had to work that night, but Josiah showed me photos of his gorgeous mother. The next best thing to meeting her.

Jean’ story. You know, you can’t do justice to someone’s life in a few paragraphs. By necessity, you leave out many little stories and vignette’s that are precious and memorable. But, each of these blogs is already like a small book. I ask forgiveness and tolerance from those of whom I write. 

So, Jean was married once, for about 8 years. It was a rocky marriage and she never wanted to repeat it. The marriage thing. Well, almost never. She was engaged briefly until she “regained her senses” and changed her mind. It has to be the right one, you know. Not just marriage for marriage’s sake. 

Jean has had her share of traumas and tragedies. I guess we all have. She gave her first daughter up for adoption. Her daughter is now grown and looked up her biological mother, Jean, and now they are great friends. Happy ending there. In fact, her daughter is true sister to Jean’s other 2 children--Michelle and Timothy. Triple happy ending. 

A few years ago, Jean’s father passed away. Her mother had died some time before then. Her dad had worked for the railroad all his life, so Jean grew up near trains. She travels by train to Minnesota to see her daughter Michelle every Christmas. In fact, for almost all of her long distance traveling, she goes by train. 

She told a story about one of her Christmas trips on the train. She was walking through the “Observation” car, where you can sit and hang out and watch the world go by. She saw a young man playing the guitar with a lady friend singing some folk songs. She asked if he could play some Christmas carols. He agreed and pretty soon, the car filled with people who wanted to join in singing beloved Christmas favorites. There were some fellow Amish train customers who passed out hymnal sheets of old gospel favorites and soon everyone switched gears and sang gospel tunes. Jean laughs when telling the story as the guitarrist didn’t know all of the tunes but tried to follow the singing crowd as best he could. When he couldn’t follow, the group just sang acapella. It was a good time.

Jean says her passion is helping others. When her died died, she inherited a good sum of money. She bought her home in Sandusky, moving from New Mexico, so she could be near her grandson Josiah. Jean helped her children with their bills with most of the rest of the money and lost the remainder when the market crashed and her investments went under. She has some physical ailments, making work a bit difficult, but she is considering getting some part time work to help ends meet. 

Jean loves to connect with people and make friends. She gets on Facebook a lot and keeps track of her circle of friends. She is a friendly neighbor and said it took a few years to get to know the people on her block. She had a pickup truck and offered it to all the neighbors should they need to use it for hauling, etc. They were very surprised by the offer. Jean said that the locals go out in the summer but in the winter months, no one is seen outside in their neighborhoods---they go into hiding, snow or no snow. This was a change for Jean, who loves to talk to people and make friends. It took 6 months of steady patience to develop a friendship with her neighbor, Kathy, who is now her best friend in Sandusky. But Jean wouldn’t give up. She offers herself and her resources to friend and stranger alike. 

I can attest to that. I “met” Jean through this cycling trip as she is a friend of a former patient who lives in Carlsbad. Jean heard about me and starting following my blog and then sending me some emails. What a precious person. 

Jean misses New Mexico, especially Ruidoso. Her “bestest friend” in the world lives there---Michelle(?). When Jean lived in Ruidoso, she worked 3 jobs. She says she speaks up if she sees unfairness in the work place and this has cost her a few jobs. I guess you could say she is a whistleblower of sorts.

I slept for about 9 hours that first night at Jean’s house, as I had been feeling a bit “off” for a few days. It was a healing rest and I awakened refreshed---good enough to do my regular exercises. In the early afternoon, Jean dropped me off at Starbucks to drink coffee, write, and take care of “stuff”. That night, we went to her son Timothy’s house for a home cooked vegan meal. It was so doggone good, I ate two servings of taco salad and then could barely move. 

Timothy and his wife Annessia teach ballroom dance at The Black Tie Dance Studio. After dinner, Timothy showed us photos and a few dance videos of competition dances with students. So fascinating. He moves with the grace of a cat---light on his feet and with such agility! Tim’s passion is dance.  He did not take lessons as a child but came to this profession as an adult. He was trying to figure out what to do with his life when someone invited him to a dance class. After that first class, he was hooked. He said he did nothing but dance for 5 weeks straight and became a certified instructor! I didn’t think it was possible to accomplish something like that so fast, but he was passionate about it. And still is. Jean used to dance several times a week, so perhaps dancing is in the blood. Timothy has been teaching for several years and he and his students have won several competition awards. He met his lovely wife on the dance floor. And they are still dancing, years later. 

And Josiah! Their son. What a handsome boy. At 13, he has delicate features and big hazel eyes. He is friendly, articulate, enthusiastic, and well-adjusted. He loves to dance (go figure!), and I was treated to a video of one of his first dances at about age 4. Josiah loves dance, art, swimming, and his dad’s cooking. Like most kids his age, he also likes movies and video games. 

Josiah is the apple of Jean’s eye.  He has his own room at her house and Jean says that she usually has the joy of his company every other weekend. They watch movies and play games and laugh together. 

On Friday, August 8th, HD and I bade Jean a fond farewell and we headed toward Cleveland. At Huron, I was able to reconnect with the Adventure Cycling Northern Tier maps. The majority of the day’s ride was on hwy 6 along the Ohio Coastal Route, next to Lake Erie. Private homes occupy most of the shoreline, but occasional parks as well as breaks between the houses provided glimpses of this great lake. It is so cool to see any of the Great Lakes and see no shoreline on the opposite side---it feels like you are standing at the seaside, with only ripple waves at the shore. I kept wanting to see dolphins and whales, but no go. Fresh water lakes. Astounding size.

At a park in Avon Lake, I met 4 lady cyclists, all about my age or a few years younger. They cycle regularly together and have done a few “century rides” together. A century ride is an organized 100 mile ride. It is often for a fundraiser and gives passionate riders a safe and fun venue to push themselves for a long, serious ride, usually done in one day.  Some of these ladies were inspired to perhaps do some longer distance rides over several days and they talked about cycling around the entire lake next year. This is close to 600 miles! Wahooo! 

The passions of these accomplished, bright ladies?

1. Travel and teaching. This little blonde woman used to take folks on European trips. The economy and the internet cut into that business. Now she teaches. She loves both directions---teaching others and traveling. Nice when you can combine them.
2.   Writing. One talented woman has written several published essays that she wrote about the journey she took with her adopted daughter to meet her birth mother. She is now working on a blog which is really another series of essays chronicling her life and thoughts. This is her passion.
3. Sara: Cycling, travel, and being a lawyer. This tiny woman was a little dynamo and a force to be reckoned with! 

           (Sorry, Dad, about the preposition rule. It just sounds better!)

1. Life and everything about it. Cycling. Adventure. This effervescent petite woman was credited with being the heart of the group. When things are tough, she finds the good things. If it’s raining and the road is hard, she says, “Wow! Look at the beautiful red barn! Isn’t that something?”

After sharing high 5’s for ladies on bikes, we parted. They took off at a great speed while I mosied out of the parking lot, adjusting my packs as they occasionally shift just enough to rub a back tire.

As I approached Cleveland, I saw no nearby campground offerings so looked up nearby motels on the ole iPhone and found a Super 8. So, here I write.

____________________________________________________

Well, I left the Super 8 this morning at 9:15, a later start than I had planned. I didn’t get through Cleveland til about 1 pm. But what a city. Cleveland was extablished in 1796---that’s pretty old, for US city standards! The roads I followed, via the Adventure Cycling maps, meandered through old sections of town with those gorgeous ornate brick buildings, which are now in the historic district. I think that they might be quite reasonably priced, as the area around looked in need of some funding. There is a bikeway skirting the lake for several miles, although the roads, including the bikeway, definitely need repair. The parks at the lake in Cleveland were phenomenal---museums, art, music, the whole shebang. The people were friendly---waving, making fun comments, and wishing me well. 

I stopped at a small farmers’ market near a quaint, old section of town and met Victoria Carter. This vibrant woman practically scooped me up in a big hug. She was selling fair trade items from all over the world and I purchased a small woven scarf which was similar to a doo-rag but used elastic under the hair, like a headband. Victoria is disabled but she does own a bike that she tries to use from time to time. She invites cyclists to her own home for a meal and a bed, and she offered that to me as well. She has been to several countries and speaks English, Spanish, and Dutch. The farmers’ market was held in the Presbyterian Church parking lot---services are in Spanish.  Victoria’s passions are God first, then people. She adores traveling, singing, meeting people, and helping others. She gave me a tiny “worry doll”, but I told her it will be my “gratitude doll” and I named it Victoria. Whenever I see my little Victoria doll, I will be grateful for all the blessings in my life and I will think of her. 

The cycling has now become quite urban and I only made about 40-45 miles today through stop and go traffic, potholed roads, and frequent map checks. I cycled next to Lake Erie but there are homes all along the lake, so you only get glimpses of the lake from time to time. I did not make it as far as Geneva, where the campground was located, but checked into a Studio 6 in Mentor, Ohio. I had so hoped to be camping tonight! I thought it was a Motel 6 offshoot because the “6” is the same shape and design as for the Motel “6”. The first room I was given was devoid of sheets, pillows, and linen of any kind. While I stood in the room, a flea jumped on my arm. I decided to sit on the floor to see if there might be a bug problem---it smelled like the floor had just been shampooed and I had my suspicions as to why it not only smelled like shampoo covering smells of other sorts but also why there were absolutely no linen anywhere. Within a few minutes, I had another jumpy visitor on my leg, so I called the front desk and I got a different room. I think this one is ok. 

I think it must be terribly hard to run a motel or a restaurant. You can make more money with a motel I bet, but each room offers its own disaster potential. And making money in a restaurant would be very hard, unless it is cheap “fast food”. 

What a night. I also deleted iCloud from my iPhone and with it went my contacts! Yikes! The iCloud had been using up all my storage so I had spent the last several days deleting text messages and iPhone apps. Tonight I said to myself, “This is ridiculous!” So, I deleted the iCloud so I could have some of my apps back and so the phone camera would work again. (Yes, I moved photos to my computer). Now, it feels like I have an empty phone. 

But it is all ok! I have friends and family whom I love and adore. I meet the most wonderful people on the road and I ride along the road with some of the silliest grins on my face as I look in awe at some of the crazy beautiful things out there. What’s a few fleas and the mechanics of adding phone numbers and addresses back to my electronics? And wet clothes from rainshowers? It is nothing but a speck. Tinier than a speck. Humans get aggravated too easily. Imagine being a dog and having a hundred little fleas running through your fur. Getting itchy yet? Hahaha!

On Sunday, August 11th, I headed out from Studio 6, on highway 20. It was no longer a big, country highway, but more like a city road with stop lights, traffic, etc. I was definitely moving east into a more populated part of the country. Still, the road between actual towns was front street to home after home. Along the highway, the homes are sprawling and the yards are much larger than in town. The lure of the stores in the towns called to me and I stopped and picked up groceries and another tank top in the Painesville, Ohio Target.

Stopping at a McDonalds along the way to Conneaut, I met Jay, a retired gent who was filled with questions about HD. He loves to travel and read and spends a good amount of time doing just that. 

That day, I also met a lady at a CVS in Mentor. She was a very thin woman with big eyes and a welcoming smile. She showed me how to use the CVS card for savings and deals, going out of her way to take me to an electronic machine to pull out coupons by scanning my card. I wish I knew this woman’s name. She had a cancerous tumor in her vocal chords one year ago. It was surgically removed, successfully. But the surgeon did not think she would be able to speak with enough volume to really be understood. This is a shame, because this lady’s passion is singing and she is a member in a folk country band. 

Not only did she determine to speak again, but also to sing. She is an active part of the band again. 

During the time of her recovery from surgery, she took care of her mother, who died later of cancer.  She used to work in a medical facility in management but had to quit to take care of her mother as well as recover from her own surgery. Now, after only 6 months at CVS, she is a supervisor. She is indomitable. And an inspiration.

When I get tired on the road and my legs are aching and I get shooting pain in my kneecaps and I am uncertain of where I will spend the night, I start to feel a bit “whiney”. Then, I remember the people whom I have met: their stories of courage and hope and how they have overcome some of the most difficult obstacles and even tragedies. It reminds me to be grateful and that my little complaints are nothing. It is so much more glorious to even be alive. 

I had a wonderful moment on hwy 20 not far from Ashtabula, Ohio. I was singing along with my iPod, passing homes with lovely manicured lawns, when I saw a man kneeling on the ground, hovering over something near his front door. What is that? I wondered. I slowed down and I saw that he was kneeling over a person, who was lying on the ground. I yelled to him, “Are you ok? Do you need help?”  He looked up and worriedly answered, “She fell down!”

So HD did a quick turn and I leapt off the cycle and ran up to them. His wife (?) was lying face-up on the ground, quite alert and awake. She and her husband had been moving a piece of furniture out of the house and she tripped down the step and went sailing, landing on her right side and hurting the shoulder. I told her I was a physical therapist and asked if she minded if I took a look. I checked out the shoulder---no open wounds or open fracture. Active movement was sharply painful but the shoulder was intact in the socket and she did not have pain with tapping the humeral head. She refused to call an ambulance, stating she just wanted to get up and go in their car. Steady, strong heart rate and her temperature normal to the touch. I asked the man to bring me a towel and I fashioned a sling while we tied it tight over the shoulder with a ribbon. I helped her to stand with the assistance of a kitchen chair. She was smiling, though quite sore from the fall, and agreed to go to the hospital for x-rays. That made me a happy camper. 

You never know what surprises lie around the next corner.

HD and I pulled in to the Evergreen Lake Park Campground and RV sales in the evening. I camped in my tent in the primitive tent area, which is a huge grassy aread surrounded on 3 sides by trees. I showered with warm water, partially charged the phone, did my exercises, and ate some of the groceries I had picked up at the Target store. 

This was my last night in Ohio. The next morning, I cycled back into Conneaut and stopped at the McDonalds for coffee, checked the maps, and headed out of town and out of Ohio.

Something I think is funny about Americans. We try to make everything “our own”. This includes land, resources, and language. I guess that is no different than any other people in any other country. Ohioans have a very interesting way to make language their own. They do this by giving names of towns their very own pronunciation. This tends to be by shortening the word and putting the emphasis on the first syllable. 

In Texas, they talk slower and draw out the words, making a one syllable word into two. Like "back" becomes "Bay-ack". Or get lazy and take 3 words to make one. "Jeet?" means "Did you eat?" That's an old redneck joke popularized by comedians like Jeff Foxworthy. 

So, in Ohio:

“Lancaster” is pronounced “Lankster”.  

“Newark” is pronounced “Nerk”. In fact, when I lived near Newark, Ohio, I met a young man wearing a t-shirt poking fun at this very fact--the t-shirt was emblazoned with, “Hi! I’m from Nerk, Ahia”.   Now, if you say the long “i” in “Hi” and “I” as a melding of the long “i” sound with the short “a” sound (remember phonics?), then you will say it like an Ohioan.

“Conneaut” should be pronounced “Kono” but, in Ohio, it is pronounced “Connie-ott”. That one kills me! LOL!

“Huron” is “Hyearn” when said fast--one syllable. It is “Hurine” when pronounced slower, like “Urine” with an h in front. 

And if you live in Ohio, you really live in “Ahia”.

Just so you know. 

Everywhere I went, I asked people how to pronounce the name of their their town, if it was not Cleveland or Sandusky, that is. 

But, it is a beautiful green state with Lake Erie as a border. It has the rich heritage of Cleveland, Cedar Point Amusement Park, woods, hills, agriculture, and a rich heritage. Hey, I went to college in Columbus! I was even highly employable after that! You gotta love it! And Indian Summer really is spectacular.