Friday, May 20, 2022

Missing Turns and Distractions

This is day two of my (with nephew Dakota) meander across the United States to Maine to see my niece wed. She picked a good spot in the world to settle and in turn gave us a reason to jog to New England from Arkansas. Check out yesterday’s post below for day one’s events.

We loaded up in Terra Haute in the morning in no particular hurry. The primary concern was to secure the dress from any gesticulations that might end in punctured water jugs or empty cans of Dr. Pepper. Having secured that and the rest of the stuff we climbed in and ambled off. I’m not sure what time it was, later than I had mapped out in my head, but probably earlier than I had expected. Maybe 8:30. We ate in the hotel lounge, had cold Dr Pepper in the cooler and a full tank of gas, so were on the interstate heading to Indy quick enough.


Dakota had a work meeting so he dialed into that and I turned the radio off and cruised around Indianapolis. I’m relatively familiar with the town and its byways after attending so many GenCons there. It’s a nice place, easy to navigate. Circling that mighty berg we lumbered north to Fort Wayne. I hadn’t looked at the map, to see which was the easiest and most direct route to Toledo. It was north and a little east, so generally going north worked for me. Dakota’s meeting lasted well over an hour so there was no asking him to double check. I missed a good opportunity to see Tom Tullis in southern Ohio as in retrospect I should have gone to Dayton and up. But no matter, one hard top is the same as another, though I really would have loved to leave a jar of pickles on Tom’s door step, ring the door bell and take off. I can see him now shaking his fist “curse you Steve Chenault”. But life is full of missed opportunities and all one can do is ramble on.

I’ve been to Fort Wayne a few times, mostly for conventions. The Alliance Open House and some other one whose name escapes me. It’s where I met Marcus King, a very good friend of mine, who is on his own journey now, across the Divide. Prayers to you my friend. You are missed.

As we drove right past the bypass, we had to turn around and swing back to get on it. Once there we settled into cruising. I knew we departed Fort Wayne for Toledo at some point but wasn’t paying much attention and kept driving. After awhile it dawned on me there were a whole host of exits that led from this bypass to Fort Wayne, a few too many, so we checked and realized we missed the Toledo turn off and were presently circling the whole city (it’s at this point that Dakota began using his phone to map us). The country is pretty enough around the little town but didn’t really warrant such a circumnavigation, so we turned back around and headed for the exit to highway 24.

It’s here that Blondie showed up. She alighted in the car with her angelic voice, giving us a nice rendition of the Tide is High. For those who don’t listen to the radio, but prefer play lists and such, it is hard to describe the excitement of hearing a song unlooked for, and often long forgotten. She had me so whipped up I had to drop down off a speed that briefly topped 3 digits.

24 put us at last on the way to Lake Erie the real objective of the day’s drive. I looked forward to this part of the drive the most as I had never been in this part of the country on anything but a train. So virgin land for my peepers.

Hats off Ohio! You have a good looking state.

We landed in the tangled outskirts of Toledo a few hours later and plotted the next leg to Cleveland. I had it in my mind that we’d drive the length of the lake before departing on other roads. Not sure why this got so lodged in my noodle plate, but there it was. Dakota, not knowing this, plotted us a course that skipped a good chunk of it and unknowingly we started on some highway or the other. He had taken over the wheel and I was looking at the map. Seeing what he had done I called a halt to the direction and redirected us up through the strangely car empty but street congested burbs of Toledo, to Highway 2, which seemed to hug the coast of the lake. Turning around, off we went.


We passed onto that small road and ambled along the coast we couldn’t see for a good short while until the road ended. Big signs saying “road closed” put a temporary halt to the drive. Undetoured in our objective we made our own detour and wandered around some small county lane until we popped back out on Hwy 2 and kept on our journey. My plan to see the lake failed utterly though, as 2 at no point rolled on the coast. But no matter, it’s a long lake.

I was hankering for some food and looked to the town of Huron for our break. About that time Kathy called and we chatted and she started looking for a place for us to eat. We were directed to the Kuncklehead Saloon. She didn’t know anything about it, but knowing I call people knuckleheads all the time, she thought I only fitting. We had to turn around as we had just passed the exit. We arrived in short order. We snapped a quick pic of the outside and went in ready to eat and relax.


But there was no food there, not at this time of day at least. It was an honest saloon with about 7 locales in there having an afternoon’s drink, and a nice lady tending bar. We joined (drinking a coke) and struck up a conversation with everyone in the bar about I have no idea what. I did however, have the presence of mind to ask for the best burger joint in town and were unanimously directed to Main Street Tavern. I say unanimously, but it was really unanimously minus one. The fellow next to me said “I don’t know! I just come to Huron to drink!” Hat’s off to purpose!

Off we went.

A few miles down the road we at last saw the sprawling Lake Erie, just briefly, beyond the yard of ond of Huron’s local inhabitants. But the burger was the target now, so lake forgotten we headed over to the Tavern. We were the only patrons there, which is often a good sign (fresh food), plopped down and ordered a cheeseburger. Well, I did, Dakota ordered some monstrous thing with condiments on it. We dug in and I must say, though no Tatum burger, it was delicious. Absolutely worth every moment.

A kindly thank you to the Knuckleheaders! Good call. Really, I should have bought them a round for their kindness. If ever I find my way back to Huron, I’ll do just that, as I’m sure they will all still be sitting there enjoying a beer.

We headed back up Main Street to have a good look at Lake Erie, as we had yet to see it clearly. We stopped at some beach there in Huron (an insanely beautiful town by the by) and took in the view. And it was breathtaking. That body of water is massive. The Lake’s color is hard to describe, not blue or green, or gray. Just Erie. It should really be its own color. Calm and placid, water as far as you can see.

Though a question for the lake shore residents. Why all the dead fish on the beach? Is this a seasonal thing? They looked just washed up on shore.

We enjoyed that for a few minutes, then left with greater purpose. We’d spent a few too many hours meandering in and around north Ohio and hadn’t quite made the distance planned. So we wandered down to Cleveland by early afternoon and made interstate 90 and headed east to Buffalo. We drove this stretch for a while, trying to make up some time, to get to a resting place in decent order as we still had 12 hours to Portland and a wedding to attend. I have many good friends in Cleveland it was a shame to miss you all!


We drove thus for a while until we hit the outskirts of Buffalo, a town I really wanted to see for some reason (still not sure why, Buffalo Bills, the movie True Romance that actually takes place in Detroit, who knows). I looked at the map, saw that we were going to drive right through it and was very pleased. Then I saw Niagra Falls and saw how close it was. Turning to Dakota I asked him if he wanted to see Niagra Falls. He was a little taken aback, but said sure. I consulted with Tim about times and direction, and decided none of that mattered and we took another side trip to the falls. If we were lucky it would only add a little less than an hour, or a little more, if not.

A couple of observations here. First, Buffalo might be the prettiest town I’ve ever seen. This on two continents. It is absolutely beautiful. I texted kat and told we are coming back soon. Second, Niagra is everything they say it is. The falls are breathtaking. We arrived as the sun was setting over the west/Canada and the view was simply amazing. The waters at the foot of the falls, froth filled by calm, the waters above with rabid white caps that even out as the slide over the edge. Clouds of mist and spray. Just beautiful. If you have the chance, give it a whirl.

We enjoyed that for a few minutes, but much like Chevy Chase at the Grand Canyon, we had a little distance to go. We hit the road again and drove till 1ish until we arrived at Utica, NY where we found a room at the Days Inn. Exhausted we collapsed.

Off to Portland now, I’ve a plane to meet and this dress to deliver that will either end me or become another footnote in reason #1997 to not trust your husband with your clothing or jewelry.

Note: I keep saying car, because I’m in my wife’s car. She didn’t want to drive back across the country in my truck. Why, I’ll never understand. I keep my water jug in the bed of the truck…. (I know you told me not to say anything Derrick, but I couldn’t resist!)

3 comments:

Sean said...

Hey, coming up to my neck of the woods!
Let me know if you need some pointers for good restaurants or places to visit.

Chris D. said...

My neck of the woods too. 30 minutes from Portland, up in Topsham.

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