Mother and Son Going to Buffalo, NY – Day 13

Ohio

Millies Café – “Go a quarter-mile and turn right at the caution light, go about four miles” are the instructions we use to find breakfast. Nothing on the highway identifies the place. Good thing we arrived on Wednesday, according to the waitress, as on weekends it’s standing room only. If you were to see for yourself how sparse the local population is out here, you’d understand how popular this place is to bring people in from near and far.

Ohio

Before and after breakfast, we were dealing with somewhat heavy fog, which quickly burned off into a blistering heat combined with humidity conditions, leaving us feeling like we were in a tropical fishbowl. We sweat. The air conditioner vents in the car sweat. The air is sweating. Humidity is a nemesis and absolutely alien to someone who’s been living in that good old Arizona dry heat. Moving around causes each individual pore to sweat in a kind of torture. Seconds later, every square inch of clothing is damp, but it’s so hot that our clothes are not cooled by the breeze or fans blowing air in the car. We are so hot and humid that we start creating our own personal cloud of humidity. I think we will start raining upon ourselves.

Ohio

The Ohio River Valley in July is not only a nearly unbearable land of humidity but also laden with crops this time of year. From vineyards, corn, beans, and melons to tomatoes, peppers, cucumbers, eggplant, and tobacco, we are taking inventory of a cornucopia of produce here along the river.

Ohio

Towns come and go, none really stand out. The scenery is definitely the winner here until we make Manchester, Ohio, where we stop at a small winery called Moyer on the Ohio. As they also have a cafe on the premises we use the opportunity to have lunch. Mom also picked up four bottles of Ohio wine, and we were right back on the road.

Ohio

Our waitress recommended that we cross the river into Maysville, Kentucky, about 20 minutes southwest of the winery. She emphasized that we go to Old Washington in Maysville in particular.

Ohio

I don’t believe I’ll ever be able to just drive by an abandoned gas station, as there’s something fascinating about these places. My best guess about what the attraction is would be that my imagination conjures the sights and sounds of travelers from the past who are driving somewhere new. Not going to work or school but on a migrant journey following opportunity and chasing new horizons. Without the mass media, we have today, those travelers from a previous age would be venturing into a great unknown where every corner showed them the unexpected.

Those people were fleeing their own uncertainty and inability to deal with particular situations, hoping for a new start elsewhere. When I stopped at a house in ruin, there really wasn’t anything special about the chaos of the place that appeared ransacked following its previous inhabitants abandoning it, but there was one thing that stood out. While everything appears to be turned over the potholder above the stove looks untouched. The person who put that back up on its hook after removing dinner from the oven probably never thought that they’d never use it again.

There are certainly parallels between these rural abandonments and Buffalo, which makes me wonder about what places in America are next.

Kentucky

Great recommendation from the woman at the winery to visit Old Washington. This is where Harriet Beecher Stowe found some of the inspiration to write Uncle Tom’s Cabin after watching a slave auction at the local courthouse back in 1833.

Kentucky

Quite a few old buildings from the 1700s still stand on Old Main Street; I only wish we had more time to visit. The truth is that we had enough time, but the hot weather and humidity were too oppressive for Mom’s comfort, so she waited in the car with the a/c on while I jumped out and grabbed a few photos.

Kentucky

There’s a lot of history in this small town I hope to find again someday in the future, but for now, we are leaving.

Kentucky

Back across the river in Ohio, just before Ripley, we stop to take a photo of a houseboat that is undergoing renovation. Seeing the owner, Mom now has the wherewithal to exit the car. I see how it is; if it’s something my mom wants, she’ll go the extra mile. She asks Bob, the owner of a local upholstery shop, about his labor of love. He’s been working on this aluminum 42-footer for four years now and is almost ready to start putting it back together.

Kentucky

Ripley itself is one of the towns Mom and I swear we must come back to. Sometimes, in the most unlikely of places, the most wonderful surprises await you. Today, it happened multiple times. Driving through Ripley, Mom spots an Easy Step shoe outlet and insists on visiting. Twenty minutes later, with five pairs of shoes and a new purse, she emerges to me, napping in the running car.

Kentucky

A few more miles down the road, and we’re aiming to cross the river back into Kentucky. Our $5 ferry ride has us landing in Augusta, Kentucky, our next amazing surprise location. Not far after leaving Augusta, we are on some of the twistiest roads known to mankind. A light rain starts to fall, but only for a minute before it starts to pummel the earth. Darkness descends in midday, and lightning strikes not more than 300 feet in front of us, making Mom grab my arm so quickly and tightly that I thought I’d jerk the van off the road.

Kentucky

The rain comes and goes while the road continues to twist and turn, zig and zag and we finally return to the road we were supposed to be on. The next stop was at a gas station for the facilities. I ask about a good place for home cooking and the attendant is quick to tell us of Mr. Ed’s in Verona. About 10 miles up the highway and then about 3 miles west, we will find Verona. One wrong turn, and we took the long way down a narrow road, which proved nice for photos but added a few miles to the journey. At the intersection of Mudlick and Glencoe Roads, we see that the girl meant Mr. Herb’s in Verona; there could not be another restaurant in this tiny village.

Kentucky

The food is excellent. The starter is fried green tomatoes; we agree they are the best we have ever had. I ordered the cod, for which they are locally famous, and Mom went for the catfish. For sides, Mom has more fried green tomatoes, and for me, the green beans. Both of our dishes are great, but I would have preferred the catfish. For dessert, we nearly have coronaries before reaching the front door after gobbling down a deep-fried slice of apple pie with ice cream and caramel sauce, an “oh my god!” experience. Feeling like we’re falling behind schedule, although it’s a loose one for sure, we decide on taking the dreaded freeway to shave some time off the driving requirements.

John Wise in Indiana

The idea was to beeline it to Madison, Indiana, and then take Highway 56 across the state as we continue in our effort to bypass any major cities and minimize freeway driving. Right, enough energy to go shoe shopping and eat deep-fried apple pie, but it’s too hot, and her feet hurt, so I have to get out and snap a selfie of myself. I should have worn donuts on my shoulders to get my mom to follow me around.

Indiana

Does that look like Kentucky to you? As far as I could tell, the barge was hauling coal.

Indiana

In Old Madison, we almost ruined our plans. This place must be one of a small handful of absolutely perfect places in America. I had said Harbor Springs in Michigan would be in the top three, and Monterey, California, would probably be there too; that leaves Madison to round out the list. I’ll have to give this more thought and see just what my top 10 favorite American cities would be. I suppose I would also want to include Canandaigua, New York. While I’m at it, throw in Apalachicola, Florida, so there it is a beginning to my all-time favorite cities in the United States.

Indiana

We talk of staying the night after spotting a riverside motel that, for only $59, begs us to stay. Our loved ones back home are begging us to return, so we decide it’s better to get a few more miles down the road before calling it a day.

Indiana

Only 75 more miles were driven before we were too tired to continue. We made it to Paoli, Indiana, but didn’t quite find what we were looking for in accommodations. In French Lick, we stop at the Lane Motel grabbing a nice little room for about $57.

Mother and Son Going to Buffalo, NY – Day 12

Pennsylvania

Breakfast starts the day at a little café called Skyjet located at the ‘top of the hill’ right here in Tionesta. Nice place with average food, not bad at all, just not outstanding.

Pennsylvania

Our drive is taking us through the Allegheny National Forest and mostly along the Allegheny River. The road twists and turns for quite a long time. We zig and zag, heading toward the western edge of Pennsylvania. Our goal is to stay in rural settings as much as possible as we aim to find the Ohio River somewhere out in front of us.

Pennsylvania

Countryside ruins hold intrigue as I wonder about the lives that occurred within these walls and consider the lost dreams as the former inhabitants pulled up roots and moved down the road to start over. On the other hand, urban ruins are loaded with the bad feelings of people who may have never had ambitions and were simply beaten down by the system. For me, they are two sides of tragedy but one I never want to witness firsthand as I don’t believe the latter really ever aims for a fresh start.

Pennsylvania

By the time we reach Oil City, Pennsylvania, it’s time to take a hard left to aim south. The sky is cloudy but does not appear to be threatening us with imminent rain. The humidity is almost overwhelming. Everything in the car is damp, everything we wear is damp, and sweat continuously drips, dampening our hopes of drying out. Our escape from the heat of the Arizona summer has been less than effective, futile even. The next day’s weather report tells us to expect more of the same. Caroline informs us it’s over 120 ‘real’ degrees in Phoenix, not the reported 117 degrees.

Pennsylvania

Through farms and forests, we crawl along. Finding elderflowers in Eldersville, Pennsylvania, seemed poetic. West of there, we enter West Virginia at a tiny border crossing that apparently doesn’t deserve a Welcome to West Virginia sign. Our first town is Follansbee where we stumble upon a bakery; not much left, though, we leave with a still-hot blackberry pie. Don’t think for a second we left with a slice; we left with the whole thing.

Wellsburg, West Virginia, is a well-maintained, beautiful village kept alive by the steel industry and coal-generated power. Lunch was at a small Main Street restaurant with a great homemade chicken dumpling soup. Their chicken pot pie was the daily special; I went for it while Mom had a Philly cheesesteak. Steel and coal are still alive here, and the town is better for it. Wellsburg is impeccable.

Pennsylvania

We remain on the West Virginia side of the Ohio River as we meander further south for another hour or two of curves and hills. Passing the south side of Wheeling, we cross over the river, landing in Ohio. More forests and farms dot the landscape along this side of the Ohio River.

Pennsylvania

It is a slow day of driving for us and by the time we start approaching Belpre, Ohio, we are ready for dinner. I know you must be thinking, “Jeez, these two are eating their way across America.” To an extent, that is true, but since leaving Wellsburg, hours and hours have passed.

Ohio

We see that Parkersburg, West Virginia, is bigger than Belpre and figure there are better dining options over there. So we pay the toll to cross the bridge and, at the toll booth ask an elderly guy where’s the best place to get catfish. He recommends that we go back up Route 7 over in Ohio, where we just came from, to a place called Catfish Heaven. Great, we make a U-turn that takes a mile to figure out. We pay the toll to return over the bridge and head back up Route 7.

Four or five miles, just as the guy told us. There it is, except it is called Catfish Paradise. I should note I know this is the right place because before committing to this backtracking, I stopped at a 7/11 to ask the cashier for confirmation of the location. I explained that my mom and I wanted some catfish and that the guy at the toll booth told us about Catfish Heaven; she nodded in agreement and confirmed that the place is only 4 or 5 miles north.

Ohio

We miss the turn but find a middle-of-the-road spot to make a U-turn that was probably only supposed to be used by law enforcement – hey, I’m a tourist! We see fishermen around the roadside little lake and think, wow, this must be a catch-and-eat fresh kind of place. Oh, NO, it’s not! This is not a restaurant. This is a catfish farm with no onsite cook waiting to batter our fresh catch of the day and throw some hot sauce and lemon at us.

I’m sure that this is some kind of joke played on tourists, knowing we wanted fried fish, not swimming fish. Mom is cackling like a chicken; I’m a bit annoyed at wasting the 20 minutes, seventy cents in tolls, and having to listen to Mom bust a gut for the next 10 minutes.

Ohio

Defeated we decide to skip our hunt for fish and keep on driving, certain we’ll find something soon.

Ohio

Out on the Ohio Scenic Byway just enjoying the day.

Ohio

Lucky us as one of our encounters with a local person, had recommended that we leave Highway 7 and take Route 124 instead. We are now on even more rural lands with no services, no hotels, no restaurants, and a detour. Tomato fields, bell peppers, corn, eggplants, chilies, beans, and more tomatoes dot the landscape here near the Ohio River.

The urge to nab a few of the red ripe tomatoes is almost too much to bear, but Mom shoves a heap of guilt on me that this would be stealing. It would be sampling, and there is no one roadside to sell us any. We drive on.

Ohio

With starvation setting in, we are now wishing we’d grabbed a couple of those catfish that could be turned into sushi instead of facing death. That Bocce Club pizza we bought a few days ago and sat on the backseat for a day or so would come in handy about now, and we’re both certain it would still be great. Dreams of Perry’s ice cream overwhelm us as we cruise through this food desert where the uncertainty of our next meal is torturing us.

Ohio

Beautiful river scenery and tiny villages go by until we reach Pomeroy, the largest town we have seen in hours. So large is Pomeroy that it has a McDonalds, a KFC, and a Wendy’s. It is the Wild Horse Café, though, that gets our vote for dinner.

Ohio

We are sitting riverside at sunset for dinner. Our server brings over some tortilla chips with salsa that is surprisingly really good. Waiting on our entrees we have this great view of the glowing clouds reflecting in the Ohio River. Our lodging for the evening is also in Pomeroy at the Meigs Motel. More of the Ohio River awaits us in the morning.

America – Day 5

Hopewell Culture National Historical Park in Chillicothe, Ohio

We are 2,361 miles from home, and it’s 34 degrees out this morning with ice on our windows. Our first stop is at the Hopewell Cultural Historic Park which features 23 mounds built almost 2,000 years ago right here in what would become Chillicothe, Ohio. The Hopewell people thrived in this area from about 200 BC to AD 500. In the desert, it’s a rare day that we see fog, but this morning, there’s a thin layer over the mounds and a bit more drifting over the nearby Scioto River.

Fog out over the farm near the Scioto river in Ohio

These are the kind of views we live for, well, these and a million others. We’re not far from Laurelville, where we met and talked briefly with a guy who collects hornet nests as a hobby. We’d never seen one before and found them quite interesting, but why someone would collect them, we didn’t know. He also makes apple cider, which is why stopped in the first place. Along the way, we dipped in at Hocking Hills State Park for a pit stop, unaware of what amazing spectacles were hidden in the park. Someday, we must return to Hocking Hills State Park: MUST!

Caroline Wise and John Wise at the Nelsonville Brick Plant in Nelsonville, Ohio

Caroline and I agree this is one of the worst photos we’ve ever taken of ourselves, but it’s the only one we have with the kiln while visiting the Nelsonville Brick Plant. This place was built back in 1877 and closed in 1940.

Downtown Nelsonville, Ohio

I feel like we’ve landed on the real Main Street America, seeing downtown Nelsonville.

Waterfalls on the Muskingum river in McConnelsville, Ohio

This is part of the McConnelsville, Ohio, lock and dam project on the Muskingum River. Back in another age, this place was plied by steamboats. Out on the water, away from the falls, fishermen in small boats can be seen enjoying the day, hopefully as much as we are.

Roadside somewhere in Ohio

This photo was taken somewhere along State Route 60. We are traveling roughly south-easterly toward Marietta, Ohio.

A barn with "Mail Pouch Tobacco" emblazoned on it just north of Marietta, Ohio on State Route 60

This was our first encounter with the “Mail Pouch Tobacco” brand. Turns out that this or a slight variation is emblazoned on barns throughout the area. This one was just north of Marietta, Ohio, as seen from State Route 60.

Caroline Wise in the wheelhouse of a steamboat in Marietta, Ohio

Notice the strict pose from the German after reading the sign, “DO NOT TOUCH ANY CONTROLS PLEASE.” Caroline was not going to be accused of violating international law and being a bad steward of travelers’ diplomacy by acting out of line. This was taken while we were visiting an old steamboat at the Ohio River Museum in Marietta, Ohio.

Fish in the Muskingame river in Marietta, Ohio

As an added attraction, you get to feed carp with bread next to the boat. They get downright greedy! Right after I took this photo, the fish asked, “Why you take my photo, human?”

Knowlton Covered Bridge in Monroe County, Ohio

We took quite a bit of quality time to explore this little corner where the Knowlton Covered Bridge still stands. It was built back in 1887, is 192 feet long, and is only open to pedestrians.

Welcome to West Virginia state sign over the highway

Another one of these locations where we won’t be stopping for a selfie in front of the “Welcome To Our State” signs. This sign even has its own cool bridge, so we get over the disappointment quickly as we drive under this big green arch. For the sake of knowing precisely where we are at this juncture, we crossed the bridge on State Route 2 between Dilles Bottom, Ohio, and Moundsville, West Virginia. On the radio, we are listening to some bluegrass from the Jolly Brothers.

Entering Pennsylvania

More welcoming from the front seat of our speeding car. All state borders should have a pullout for selfies. Vote for it. Welcome to Pennsylvania.

Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania at dusk

Pittsburgh at dusk as we are heading for parts north of here.

Selfie of Caroline Wise and John Wise in front of the Welcome to New York state sign

Five days to make it to New York. It must be due to my being born here that I was drawn to get here sooner rather than later.

Dunkirk, New York

Before we got our first look at Lake Erie here in Dunkirk, New York, we stopped in Ripley for dinner at the Plummer’s Tavern. We tried the lemon fish with coleslaw and would return if we were to travel up this way again.

The giant doll in front of Valvo's Candies in Silver Creek, New York

Not exactly the kind of thing you might want to see when you’ve been out on the road for the better part of 16 hours, but there she stood, “The killer doll girl from the 50s – Dolly Dimples.” Not to besmirch this almost famous roadside attraction, but it did make us ask, WTF is this? Turns out she’s connected to Valvo’s Candies in Silver Creek, New York, and yes, her name really is Dolly Dimples. The next stop is Buffalo, New York – my birthplace.