Erie to Eaton and Interesting Introduction to Indiana
After blogging and emailing, I left Huron at about 11 am Tuesday. It was my intent to take the main highway to Port Clinton and immediately head south to Fostoria. But it was a stunning blue day –- perfectly clear deep blue sky, and matching blue water when you could glimpse Lake Erie. And the road sign said “Great Lake Circle Tour.” So I had to follow it into Sandusky. I missed a turn and was channeled onto the causeway to Cedar Point (a big theme park), but was rewarded by being in the midst of the blue water of a finger of the bay and by seeing tiny goslings -- little puff balls -- clumsily but oh-so-cutely waddling behind their Canadian goose parents in the grass strip by the road.
Back across the causeway, through historic downtown Sandusky, across the bay bridge, and then it was time to head south. But the sign pointed to the Marblehead lighthouse, and the AAA book had noted it was one of the oldest lighthouses in continuous operation on the Great Lakes (built in 1821), and the water was so blue. So I had to drive out to the tip of Marblehead peninsula to see the lighthouse. When I got there and saw the picnic tables scattered on a the lawn, right next to the blue, blue lake, I had to drive back into the little town of Marblehead to get a sandwich to go, and then eat it, with the help of a couple blackbirds, at one of the picnic tables. I took a picture of the lighthouse (which includes construction equipment because they are doing rehab work) and then headed south to Fostoria. On the way, I saw a number people standing waist-deep in the Sandusky River, fishing. Then in Bettsville I saw a line of soda vending machines on the sidewalk. I pulled over to get a diet coke and discovered the first vending machine in the line dispensed live bait!
I had checked on switchboard.com for potential relatives in Fostoria, and found a few with my maternal grandfather’s name, but none with my maternal grandmother’s maiden name. In historic downtown Fostoria, I went to the Glass Heritage Gallery, a long narrow space lined with cases beautifully filled with examples of various lines of glass from the companies that produced glass in Fostoria. I learned that the period of glassmaking in Fostoria had been brief –- the Fostoria Glass Company was there only from 1887 to 1891 –- one company hung on to the early 20’s. Turns out abundant natural gas had been found at Fostoria –- so abundant that the town gave it away to lure the glass manufacturers there. But the gas then ran out, and the factories moved to sites with more reliable energy in West Virginia and Pennsylvania. A cautionary tale. Let me use this as an opportunity to make you aware that the US, which accounts for 25% of the world’s natural gas consumption, has only 4% of the world’s known natural gas supply. The US chemical industry, which had always been a net exporter of product, in 2002 became a net importer. In large part this is due to the dramatic surge in the price of natural gas –- a major feedstock for the chemical industry. Natural gas has been heavily promoted because it burns cleaner than coal, but we cannot continue to expand natural gas use without importing it.
A woman at the Glass Heritage Gallery told me a woman at the card shop across the street was married to someone with my grandfather’s name. I went over there and she called her mother-in-law, who is into genealogy. Turns out we were not from the same line, but it was a pleasant conversation. No one I spoke to knew anyone with my grandmother’s maiden name. I thought about looking for the cemetery, but decided just to move on. However, my route took me right past the cemetery, so I went in and drove around slowly, reading the tombstone names. I’d all but given up when I saw a gravestone with my grandfather’s last name. Then, just a few yards away, I found a series of gravestones than included by grandmother’s parents. So I wasn’t remembering wrong – they had lived there, but apparently any and all progeny keeping the name have moved elsewhere. Though I’d never met them, I found something concretely satisfying about being at the gravesite of my great grandparents.
From there I went west on 613, past fields with cornstalk stubble, or green hay, or freshly plowed dirt. There were many red barns, most dilapidated, many overgrown with vines. Numerous blackbirds played that weird game of chicken that is popular on rural roads everywhere –- they fly across the road right in front of the car, appearing suicidal, but always pulling clear at the last second. The fields were relatively small, so that there were always lush walls of trees in the near distance.
At 127 I turned south. 127 runs north-south near the western edge of Ohio. It was not Anywhere, USA. No car dealerships. Hardly any franchise fast food. Not a Starbucks anywhere in sight. No bars on the cell phone. Soon after entering Darke County, there was a memorial at the side of the road to Annie Oakley. She had been born there and lived in a cabin on the site of the memorial. At the time, it was all virgin forest, and Annie shot and trapped wildlife to pay the debt on the property. This is how she acquired the remarkable marksmanship that made her the darling of Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show. A little beyond was a sign pointing to her gravesite, which I passed up.
There was still daylight, but I was getting driving-stupid and pulled into the Econolodge that appeared right after crossing I-70 and was the first motel I’d seen in miles and miles. A pork chop dinner at the TA, sitting between the truckers, and bed.
Wednesday broke still sunny and warmer. It was just a couple miles to Eaton. Shortly after passing through it, the topography became hilly. The road was lined with lots of trees white with some kind of blossom (not fruit trees –- something more the size of an oak or elm) [have learned they were black locust]. There were segments of road lined with a beautiful purple wildflower. After driving through the Hueston Woods State Park, I came to Oxford, where my mother’s cousin had lived as an adult. We had visited when I was little –- the only thing I remember is swimming in the city pool. This shows I had no taste at the time, because it is a very attractive little college town. Miami University was founded there in 1809. It is a beautiful campus, with stately red brick buildings surrounded by grass and trees. The main street is lined with historic buildings that are now the kind of shops and restaurants you find in college towns and, yes, a Starbucks.
The next leg was northwest to Connersville, Indiana, the town where my cousins were in high school. From there I went south along the Whitewater River, with a detour to visit the Mary Gray Bird Sanctuary. I decided to turn left instead of right at Route 52 to check out the Whitewater Canal State Memorial. I was expecting a modest building or concrete monolith or such, but discovered the delightful historic town of Metamora. The state has restored 14 miles of the canal, and it made a serene ribbon of water through the middle of Metamora. The Department of Natural Resources provides rides along the canal in the Ben Franklin III –- a replica of a canal freighter, pulled by draft horses. The town consists of many historic houses, all now shops with crafts and tourist food, but each with a plaque discussing its original use (confectionery, print shop, Masonic lodge, etc.) The weather was lullingly soft –- clear, sunny, warm but not hot, and I lingered quite a while, feeding the ducks, eating ice cream, looking into some shops. In contrast to the Ohio & Erie Canal, which pulled Ohio from near-bankruptcy to great prosperity, the Whitewater Canal was a financial disaster for Indiana. There are some political and economic lessons in the contrast, no doubt.
180 degree turn and west to Columbus. Passed many fields that were a blanket of yellow flowers. Columbus is home to a number of public buildings designed by foremost architects of the 20th century, but two story-scale versus the skyscrapers they’ve done elsewhere. (I read that architects would turn down commissions in places like Los Angeles to instead do a project for little Columbus, IN.) From http://www.answers.com/topic/columbus-indiana:
"Columbus is a city known for its architecture. J. Irwin Miller, owner of the Cummins Engine Company, a local concern manufacturing diesel engines, instituted a program in which Cummins would pay the architects' fee on any building if the client selected a firm from a list they compiled. The plan was initiated with public schools. It was so successful that Miller went on to defray the design costs of fire stations, public housing and other community structures. Columbus has come to have an unusual number of notable public buildings and sculpture, designed by such individuals as Eero Saarinen, I.M. Pei, Robert Venturi, Cesdar Pelli, Richard Meier and others. Six of its buildings, built between 1942 and 1965, are National Historic Landmarks, and 60 other buildings sustain the Bartholomew County capital seat's reputation as a showcase of modern architecture."
You can see some pictures of the architecture at: http://www.architecture.uwaterloo.ca/faculty_projects/terri/gallery.html (scroll down to Indiana).
Finally, on to Bloomington, home of Indiana U. The road was very curvy and hilly through the Hoosier National Forest, the speed limit often only 45 mph. I drove a little around the impressive limestone campus and lively downtown, then went a little nuts finding Motel Row, and finally checked into a cheap motel to watch TV and write this entry. While at dinner, thick black clouds moved in with that eerie cast that threatens tornadoes. Sure enough, the TV showed a Thunderstorm Watch, and the 11 pm news announced there had been tornadoes to the southwest. I went to sleep to thunder, lightening, and rain.
But now this morning is bright and sunny, and it looks like I am finally going to experience summer temperatures. Need to plot the next leg of the journey –- straight south to Louisville, or diagonally to St. Louis? Are there any other Louie's to consider? In any event, while I’ve been having a lot of fun on the back roads and discovering places like Metamora, it’s time to lay down some miles to reach NM by Sunday.
Back across the causeway, through historic downtown Sandusky, across the bay bridge, and then it was time to head south. But the sign pointed to the Marblehead lighthouse, and the AAA book had noted it was one of the oldest lighthouses in continuous operation on the Great Lakes (built in 1821), and the water was so blue. So I had to drive out to the tip of Marblehead peninsula to see the lighthouse. When I got there and saw the picnic tables scattered on a the lawn, right next to the blue, blue lake, I had to drive back into the little town of Marblehead to get a sandwich to go, and then eat it, with the help of a couple blackbirds, at one of the picnic tables. I took a picture of the lighthouse (which includes construction equipment because they are doing rehab work) and then headed south to Fostoria. On the way, I saw a number people standing waist-deep in the Sandusky River, fishing. Then in Bettsville I saw a line of soda vending machines on the sidewalk. I pulled over to get a diet coke and discovered the first vending machine in the line dispensed live bait!
I had checked on switchboard.com for potential relatives in Fostoria, and found a few with my maternal grandfather’s name, but none with my maternal grandmother’s maiden name. In historic downtown Fostoria, I went to the Glass Heritage Gallery, a long narrow space lined with cases beautifully filled with examples of various lines of glass from the companies that produced glass in Fostoria. I learned that the period of glassmaking in Fostoria had been brief –- the Fostoria Glass Company was there only from 1887 to 1891 –- one company hung on to the early 20’s. Turns out abundant natural gas had been found at Fostoria –- so abundant that the town gave it away to lure the glass manufacturers there. But the gas then ran out, and the factories moved to sites with more reliable energy in West Virginia and Pennsylvania. A cautionary tale. Let me use this as an opportunity to make you aware that the US, which accounts for 25% of the world’s natural gas consumption, has only 4% of the world’s known natural gas supply. The US chemical industry, which had always been a net exporter of product, in 2002 became a net importer. In large part this is due to the dramatic surge in the price of natural gas –- a major feedstock for the chemical industry. Natural gas has been heavily promoted because it burns cleaner than coal, but we cannot continue to expand natural gas use without importing it.
A woman at the Glass Heritage Gallery told me a woman at the card shop across the street was married to someone with my grandfather’s name. I went over there and she called her mother-in-law, who is into genealogy. Turns out we were not from the same line, but it was a pleasant conversation. No one I spoke to knew anyone with my grandmother’s maiden name. I thought about looking for the cemetery, but decided just to move on. However, my route took me right past the cemetery, so I went in and drove around slowly, reading the tombstone names. I’d all but given up when I saw a gravestone with my grandfather’s last name. Then, just a few yards away, I found a series of gravestones than included by grandmother’s parents. So I wasn’t remembering wrong – they had lived there, but apparently any and all progeny keeping the name have moved elsewhere. Though I’d never met them, I found something concretely satisfying about being at the gravesite of my great grandparents.
From there I went west on 613, past fields with cornstalk stubble, or green hay, or freshly plowed dirt. There were many red barns, most dilapidated, many overgrown with vines. Numerous blackbirds played that weird game of chicken that is popular on rural roads everywhere –- they fly across the road right in front of the car, appearing suicidal, but always pulling clear at the last second. The fields were relatively small, so that there were always lush walls of trees in the near distance.
At 127 I turned south. 127 runs north-south near the western edge of Ohio. It was not Anywhere, USA. No car dealerships. Hardly any franchise fast food. Not a Starbucks anywhere in sight. No bars on the cell phone. Soon after entering Darke County, there was a memorial at the side of the road to Annie Oakley. She had been born there and lived in a cabin on the site of the memorial. At the time, it was all virgin forest, and Annie shot and trapped wildlife to pay the debt on the property. This is how she acquired the remarkable marksmanship that made her the darling of Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show. A little beyond was a sign pointing to her gravesite, which I passed up.
There was still daylight, but I was getting driving-stupid and pulled into the Econolodge that appeared right after crossing I-70 and was the first motel I’d seen in miles and miles. A pork chop dinner at the TA, sitting between the truckers, and bed.
Wednesday broke still sunny and warmer. It was just a couple miles to Eaton. Shortly after passing through it, the topography became hilly. The road was lined with lots of trees white with some kind of blossom (not fruit trees –- something more the size of an oak or elm) [have learned they were black locust]. There were segments of road lined with a beautiful purple wildflower. After driving through the Hueston Woods State Park, I came to Oxford, where my mother’s cousin had lived as an adult. We had visited when I was little –- the only thing I remember is swimming in the city pool. This shows I had no taste at the time, because it is a very attractive little college town. Miami University was founded there in 1809. It is a beautiful campus, with stately red brick buildings surrounded by grass and trees. The main street is lined with historic buildings that are now the kind of shops and restaurants you find in college towns and, yes, a Starbucks.
The next leg was northwest to Connersville, Indiana, the town where my cousins were in high school. From there I went south along the Whitewater River, with a detour to visit the Mary Gray Bird Sanctuary. I decided to turn left instead of right at Route 52 to check out the Whitewater Canal State Memorial. I was expecting a modest building or concrete monolith or such, but discovered the delightful historic town of Metamora. The state has restored 14 miles of the canal, and it made a serene ribbon of water through the middle of Metamora. The Department of Natural Resources provides rides along the canal in the Ben Franklin III –- a replica of a canal freighter, pulled by draft horses. The town consists of many historic houses, all now shops with crafts and tourist food, but each with a plaque discussing its original use (confectionery, print shop, Masonic lodge, etc.) The weather was lullingly soft –- clear, sunny, warm but not hot, and I lingered quite a while, feeding the ducks, eating ice cream, looking into some shops. In contrast to the Ohio & Erie Canal, which pulled Ohio from near-bankruptcy to great prosperity, the Whitewater Canal was a financial disaster for Indiana. There are some political and economic lessons in the contrast, no doubt.
180 degree turn and west to Columbus. Passed many fields that were a blanket of yellow flowers. Columbus is home to a number of public buildings designed by foremost architects of the 20th century, but two story-scale versus the skyscrapers they’ve done elsewhere. (I read that architects would turn down commissions in places like Los Angeles to instead do a project for little Columbus, IN.) From http://www.answers.com/topic/columbus-indiana:
"Columbus is a city known for its architecture. J. Irwin Miller, owner of the Cummins Engine Company, a local concern manufacturing diesel engines, instituted a program in which Cummins would pay the architects' fee on any building if the client selected a firm from a list they compiled. The plan was initiated with public schools. It was so successful that Miller went on to defray the design costs of fire stations, public housing and other community structures. Columbus has come to have an unusual number of notable public buildings and sculpture, designed by such individuals as Eero Saarinen, I.M. Pei, Robert Venturi, Cesdar Pelli, Richard Meier and others. Six of its buildings, built between 1942 and 1965, are National Historic Landmarks, and 60 other buildings sustain the Bartholomew County capital seat's reputation as a showcase of modern architecture."
You can see some pictures of the architecture at: http://www.architecture.uwaterloo.ca/faculty_projects/terri/gallery.html (scroll down to Indiana).
Finally, on to Bloomington, home of Indiana U. The road was very curvy and hilly through the Hoosier National Forest, the speed limit often only 45 mph. I drove a little around the impressive limestone campus and lively downtown, then went a little nuts finding Motel Row, and finally checked into a cheap motel to watch TV and write this entry. While at dinner, thick black clouds moved in with that eerie cast that threatens tornadoes. Sure enough, the TV showed a Thunderstorm Watch, and the 11 pm news announced there had been tornadoes to the southwest. I went to sleep to thunder, lightening, and rain.
But now this morning is bright and sunny, and it looks like I am finally going to experience summer temperatures. Need to plot the next leg of the journey –- straight south to Louisville, or diagonally to St. Louis? Are there any other Louie's to consider? In any event, while I’ve been having a lot of fun on the back roads and discovering places like Metamora, it’s time to lay down some miles to reach NM by Sunday.
posted by Annventurer | 5:59 AM
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