Ohio & Beyond! Or, "Oh...another cannon..." June 4 - June 13, 2009 Part 1

When my brother Jeff, and his then fiancé, Laura were trying to convince us to come to Ohio for their wedding, we were told that Columbus was “the San Francisco of the Midwest.” After visiting, I can understand why San Francisco is still demanding a written apology, but this isn’t to say that Columbus and its environs don’t have their charm. In fact, of the three main “C” cities in Ohio, Columbus is the only one that is actually growing, so something must be going right. Or things are really that bad in the 'natti and "the mistake by the lake" and Columbus is only thriving by compare. Once we decided to go, we spent countless hours strategizing how to expand on our trip east – charming or not, heaven knows we weren’t going to plop down hundreds of dollars for tickets to spend a vacation only in Ohio. We decided that after the wedding we would loop north to Cedar Point Amusement Park, then east to PA, MD and VA to take in some Civil War history. And so, the trip that resulted follows thusly…

I can continue to say that Continental is a solidly good airline. A free meal is still provided (bonus points for transporting me back to fond memories of my elementary school cafeteria – BBQ turkey-product roll on the way there, gray-beef cheeseburger on the way back, with a bowl of iceberg lettuce accompanying both), and leg room can be rated as humane. Both directions took us through Houston George Bush Intercontinental (International doesn’t cut it for Texans), and save for one detail, it’s a nice facility. Said detail: Out of deference to its namesake, Pappy Bush, there is a statue we stumbled across of George HW in one of the concourses, with his tie molded to appear as if it were flapping heroically in the wind. I’m sure a statue of HW vomiting on the Japanese Prime Minister only lost the bid by a few votes.

Once in Columbus, we were partnered with our superhero sidekicks - Wolverine has nothing on Smoky and Brenda. Picture a dark gray Ford Focus speedily hugging hairpin turns in the Appalachian foothills...that's Smoky, our trusty steed whose only fault was fickle air conditioning. Brenda was a sexy-voiced GPS unit who, while pushy, got us where we needed to go without fail. Side note ... try to refrain from anthropomorphizing inanimate objects. It leads to such heartrending scenes as me telling Mike "I miss Smoky and Brenda" multiple times after coming home.

Though it was past midnight by the time we got into Lancaster (about half an hour to the southeast of Columbus), there was drunk partying afoot at the Jeff 'n' Laura house, which we decided to crash, so as to keep Mike's officer skills fresh. J'n'L keep a goodly crew of friends and meeting a small group of them while hanging out with the stars of the show was an early highlight of the trip. Oregonians - it may be hard to realize when we're already nested in this state, but that mystical allure of Oregon quality of life really does exist outside. The mere mention of the O word and, without prodding, these folks would carry on about how they wanted to go for their first time, or return if they had been there before. Maybe Governor McCall was on to something after all...

After extended hours of merriment, we finally got to our hotel around 4am. Hey, that's only 1am Pacific time! We then proceeded to get up at 8...Ohio time. But sleep is a secondary concern when there are limited vacation hours. Which is why most vacations aren't really "relaxing" per se. For that, go to a spa. For adventure, go to...Ohio!

We started with a light sampling of the Holiday Inn Express' continental breakfast. The same vendor that supplies Continental with its meat product must also supply HIE with their "bacon." There aren't enough quotation marks in the world for the """""""coffee"""""" they served (over the course of our stay, the HIE breakfast highlight was fresh fruit and their cinnamon rolls, as dutifully lauded by my Aunt Lori's husband, who is also named Jeff). We meeted and greeted with my Dad and Kathleen and headed over to my brother's house where he had perfected the maximization of services performed by a best man - his best man was cooking Monte Cristo sandwiches for brunch for nearly a dozen people.

Our intent was to tour Lancaster, an Ohio boomtown in the era of canal building, with a well-preserved historic core. Kathleen was on board as well, so the three of us tromped through downtown, visited shops and cooled down with iced coffee drinks at what is apparently the only coffee outpost in town, Four Reasons. While tasty, my mocha cup had clearly been the site of a gruesome battle between those cantankerous caffeine contenders, coffee and chocolate, with the overwhelming winner being the thick, syrupy chocolate. I managed to whisper to the long suffering coffee that it would probably have a winning case in seeking refugee status somewhere more welcoming, like Seattle or Portland. It was afraid, but I think I gave it hope.

And here are just a few pictures of lovely Lancaster, which is heavily churched:

Church!

Church!

Not a church!

Double church!!

 

Annnnnnd....

 

Our first encounter with a cannon. While at the taking of this picture it is still a novel sight, we came to discover that cannons are the pink flamingo yard decorations of the part of the country we traveled. Onward...

 

The William T. Sherman house (and another cannon!). We had planned our Civil War trip well before finding out that Lancaster was the site of Sherman’s early residence, so to learn this after the fact only made us pat ourselves on the back and think what a good job we did on our themed vacation.

We took the tour, which was conducted by a crusty old codger, balding and short, with a bumbling, gasping delivery that constantly made me wonder if I was witnessing the last tour he would ever give (and possibly not finish). When the tour wrapped up, we chatted with him and the receptionist about the fact that we were there for a wedding which was to be on the bride’s parent’s land. Codger asked where their land was. Now, the fact of the matter is, Laura’s parents live on a little lane called “Coonpath” – debate was spirited during our visit as to whether this referenced those crafty little bandit faced mammals or…that other reference. So, we told Codger, and without missing a beat he offers “Well, you know what that’s named after, don’t you?” Oh, Codger, please dispel all legend and say Meeko, that adorable little raccoon from Pocahontas…please. “It’s named that because the colored people (the what?) had to clear a path around the town early on…” The receptionist shook her head and tried to insist that it was “the animal”, but folks, that tour guide was so old he was probably there when it happened, so I’m going to have to put dollars on his version.

That night was the rehearsal dinner, and boy did we have a good gig. We got to partake in the dinner (with free beer and wine) without the requirement of having participated in the rehearsal itself. Mike and I are happy to offer this service to any wedding in need – if you have empty tables to fill, we can be there on short notice. We'll look something like the picture below, perfectly respectable. Email me.

 

The dinner was held at Shaw’s in downtown Lancaster and the choices for dinner were a pork chop or a chicken dish. Mike and I decided to each try one so as to share. The first highlight was the super-moist cinnamon/maple rolls served just before bread was rolled out. In fact, this dessert-before-dinner was so delicious that I am having trouble remembering what dessert actually was. Mike? Anyone? It doesn’t stop there, though. The main course was brought out and my pork chop was placed in front of me. Shaw's was a nice joint, so I was expecting a medallion of pork framed by a white expanse of plate, perhaps with some Jackson Pollock inspired sauce drizzled around it (Ooh, I've been watching too much Top Chef). Instead, what I had before me was a mammoth hunk of pork no less than three inches high and covering half of the plate. The only thing more impressive would have been if the pig had trotted out, introduced itself, handed me a basting brush and then flopped on my plate. But size really isn't all that matters - this smoked chop was also tender through and through.

The chicken never had a chance when put side by side with the circus show that was the pork. Pork was having none of that "the other white meat" crap, towering over the tepid, defeated looking cuts of chicken displayed on Mike's plate. It'd be like asking Jessica Simpson to sing right after Aretha Franklin finished owning the stage. Not even worth comparing.

Post dinner was another party at Jeff and Laura's house characterized by more drunken revelry and another person with Oregon lust. A bunch of Jeff's old frat(ernity) brothers had made the trip and they were partying like it was the 90s again which probably hurts a lot more now that it's almost the 2010's (oh god), but all were having a great time.

The next day was the big event. To pass the hours until the wedding, we went with family to a mini-golf course just a few blocks from our motel. It was easily one of the best mini-golf courses I've played, full of water obstacles, multi-level strategizing and then, on the 17th and 18th holes, the buuumper booooats of doooooom! Said lifeless bumper boats were next to the course - boats that have not bumpered in what could be years, given the stank water befouling the air. Side note - I try to throw people off with my slight frame, but my putting style gave it away: I'm a natural born hockey player. Apparently my club grip was more appropriate for ice sports than the green, and after some quick tips from Dad, I improved my game. Not enough to keep from tying for last.

Finally, it was time to make the trip up to (Ra)coonpath Lane via a complimentary shuttle arranged to pick guests up at the hotel. Our family caught the early shuttle not because we prize punctuality. Instead, we were told that the open bar promised for the wedding would be open before the ceremony. That's incentive! The grounds were beautiful, rolling and green and the ceremony was blissfully short, though given that readings came from such authors as Plato instead of the typical sources, a longer ceremony might have remained interesting anyway.

Let's dial up some pix, shall we?

 

The grounds

 

Pre-wedding – that’s my Aunt Lori fussing with a beverage while her husband Jeff fusses with my step-Grandma Jean’s flowers.

Jeff succeeded with the flowers, but Lori’s drink still vexes her while I pose with Grandma Jean.

My Aunt Lisa and her husband Scott – you see, Lori, they are at peace with their drinks. What is the problem?

My Aunt Lonnie and cousin Tanya

Oh look, Dad’s found the open bar. Good call.

Let’s just cut to the chase here – Jeff & Laura at the end of the ceremony. 

Awww… cut the damn cake!

But I’m getting slightly ahead of myself here. Of course I must mention the food at the wedding. My brother’s buddy owns a popular local restaurant, Billy Crickets, and they catered the event. The centerpieces were prime rib, cornish game hen, and a lamb risotto, and guests didn’t have to just choose one. Yes, in two nights I had had a pork chop the size of a frisbee, and then this upscale buffet. Somehow I returned to Portland roughly the same size as I was when I left, but certainly not for a lack of trying.

The night was wonderful, just hanging with family and listening to a very talented musician (also a friend of Jeff and Laura’s) sing and play his guitar through the evening. A little more uptempo dance music would have been fun (the dance party was definitely Lori’s wedding last year), but it was still a pleasure to listen to.

Most amazing was when the sun went down – I saw my first fireflies ever. We wandered just a little beyond the activity of the tents and the countryside was lit up with hundreds, maybe thousands of fireflies sparkling against the darkness. Mike proved himself to be the most valuable asset of the evening by catching a few fireflies to send home with Lisa and Scott for a science project one of my cousins was doing. In addition to this, he found the coffee and started serving it when the cake was served, taking coffee orders from tables of people we didn’t know at all. Granted, the wait staff on hand weren’t too fond of this, but for those of us who believe cake and coffee are never to be far apart, he is a hero. I have a feeling if my family has any other functions in the future, our invites will come addressed to “Mike and…guest”.

I’ll stop here for now to give everyone a much needed break. The operating theory here is I’ll post again with our other adventures, including exploring Columbus’ German Village, Cedar Point, and then onward to Gettysburg, Richmond and Monticello. In the meantime, leave comments if you’d like – for those who don’t have accounts with any of the services listed, choose “Name/URL” and that will allow unregistered people to leave comments. You will have to decipher one of those “captchas”, though, which I hate, but it cuts down on spam.

I’ll close with more pix!

Dad and Kathleen

The lovely bride, my new sister-in-law!

 

Scott’s face, Lisa, Laura, Jean, Jeff

Mike busy charming Lonnie and Tanya