Day 2.

Day two. We end up crossing the Ohio river into Kentucky. It would be nice if every state border could be divided by something so finite and visual as a river. A concrete division, muddy, deep, and moving quickly from someplace way up north, probably LakeErie, and ending up someplace way down south, most likely the Gulf Of Mexico. But until it finally pours out into the salt water it keeps the citizens of Ohio and Pennsylvania, Ohio and West Virginia, Ohio and Kentucky, Kentucky and Indiana and almost certainly several others, safely separated and in their place. It just makes things neater.

It is almost amazing the difference crossing a bridge will make. Southern Ohio, is still Ohio, certainly, the landscape is different, and the architecture is more restrained, but you drive through little towns almost constantly. Highway 52 is dotted with small towns, Highway 125 is so littered with small towns you might assume it was the suburbs on medium, unseen urban area. 

Not so in Kentucky, drive down Highway 23 and there are houses everywhere. Some ancient, abandoned, decaying and giving off a serious creepy tone that you can feel driving past. Others new, with shiny exteriors, swimming pools fed by long, winding slides. Some trailer houses, parked on a flat spot on the side of the hill, surrounded by cars, pickups and all terrain vehicles. Most of them are a long way from the nearest town. A trip to the grocery store is a serious undertaking.

When they get to the store, (at least the one we found) it is small, really inexpensive and filled with food that has lasted beyond it’s expiration date. It is an ingenious idea, they probably get this stuff for very little, sell it for slightly more, and people were hauling it out of there by the armload. There were hundreds of things that were just beyond the date, it might have been a month or two, that were ridiculously cheap. All of it was stuff that was so processed it should probably have a half life, stuff people eat all the time. We bought enough to fill a large box, and it was less than fifteen dollars. Of course, my wife said those stores were plentiful and she saw several in Ohio, too. And she does have an eye for those things.

And the people in the store all had the most charming accent. It always seemed to me that people in Kentucky drove too fast, too aggressively, but they talk so peacefully, so placid. Lilting through the “You alls,” and the “Pardons” and every word that came out their mouths. It was enough to make me want to start a conversation. “Let me buy you a cup of coffee. And we’ll talk.” I am a sucker for accents. On one side of the river they talk like me, on the other side, I suppose, they think I have an accent. It is difficult to believe an imaginary line, represented by a dashed line on a map, and dreamed up by surveyors hundreds of years ago would have the same effect as the mighty Ohio River cutting the states apart, dividing peoples whose differences are so noticeable, but maybe I am just a romantic.

Of course, it would be an easy matter for people from South Shore, or South Portsmouth to drive across the river and go to Walmart (though I probably would not cross the street to go to Walmart), or Kroger and do their shopping. They will be paying Ohio sales tax which seems a little treasonous to me. But, maybe I am just a just a little bitter about Governor Kasich’s tax plan. 

And the Kroger in Portsmouth was insanely busy. The parking lot was packed, filled with cars, circling, sharks, or carrion birds, looking for a feast, or the closest parking spot. Mad Max goes grocery shopping with cell phone plastered to the side of his face. Ever vigilant, never slowing, just moving, wary, or unaware in some cases, it was almost surreal. Walmart might have been the better choice, it might have been worse, if that was possible.

Day One

We found our way down Highway 23, through Circleville, past Chilicothe and Piketon and through Waverly. In Waverly I mistakenly assumed we were in Portsmouth. And said “hey, there’s Kroger,” so we stopped. while we were looking around I checked to see how far we were from Shawnee State Park and found out we were still forty minutes from Portsmouth. Then came the painful admission. We weren’t lost, but we we weren’t where I thought we were, either. Which is not the same thing as being lost, in case you were wondering.

I have a lot of experience getting lost, so I know from whence I speak. This was just wishful thinking, one step and another and then another and we should be there, by my calculations. A bridge too far, you know. After all those miles, all those trucks laboring along the winding hilly road, all of the farm houses, built right by the side of the highway keeping an eye on the passing tourists, commuters, long distance truck drivers making their way from somewhere to someplace along a road that carries a lot more traffic than I would have believed.

“So you can forgive my overzealous estimate of miles traveled.”  I told my wife, between the refrigerated dairy section and the canned vegetables. 

“Sure,” She said, “do you want some green beans?” 

“Look, it was a simple mistake, I saw a small city, with a Kroger on the left hand side of Highway 23. It was an honest mistake. It could have happened to anybody.” I said, passing by the pet food aisle. A shopping cart caught my eye, it was parked right in the center so nobody could get past. Standing by the side of the roadblock cart was older woman, grey hair, big, round plastic glasses on sparkly chain wearing an oversized white sweatshirt that said “Dog Grandma” in big, blue letters splayed over the top of a picture of a golden Labrador. She was buying cat food, and I worried about what happened when she got home.. Maybe she just got a good deal on the shirt. 

“Nothing to worry about, we don’t have anything perishable, we are still heading in the right direction, it isn’t a problem. Maybe we should get an onion for the hamburgers.” She said, wheeling the cart past a display filled with wine that had been bottled locally. You can’t really go anywhere anymore without running into a local winery. They are everywhere. Interstate 80 across Iowa, winery row, take Interstate 71 to Louisville, winery, winery, winery, bourbon distillery. It is Kentucky after all, if it isn’t from Kentucky it’s just whiskey, you know. 

“Look, I don’t know what your problem is. We are still going in the right direction, you should just grow up.” I said, defensively, “Hey, do you want to get some spicy queso chips?”  walking past a shelf filled with spicy queso chips. It was a thing of beauty, silver wire railing, jutting neatly into the wide aisle, just past the aisle with sugar, flour, cake and cookie mixes. Stacked hig, and square, bristling with bags of spicy queso chips. A tear ran down my cheek, spicy, queso, and chips in one bag, standing sentinel to the entrance to the possibly the perfect food.

So ends our first day. And the spicy queso chips were not very good, and had to be replaced by Hanover’s Barbecue Chips, which are always wonderful.

Next Weekend, All Planned Out.

“Kindled by the dying embers 

Of another working day,

Go upstairs take off your makeup,

Fold your clothes neatly away, 

Me, I’ll set and write this lovesong 

As I all too seldom do,

Build a little fire at midnight

It’s good to be back home with you.” *

Goal, Relaxation

One week from today, actually one week from last Thursday, we will be at Shawnee State Park in southern Ohio. It might be a little premature for a kayaking trip but we can always light a fire, open a bottle of wine and relax. Sometimes it is good to just stop and take a breath. Life can seem like the episode of Star Trek with the tribbles, everything piles up too quickly, and you are buried under small, insignificant tasks. Life can be strange sometimes.

It is a small cabin, which, from the pictures on Instagram and Trip Advisor, is almost exactly like the cabins at Lake Hope. Small, comfortable, and wonderfully adequate for a couple of days of leisure. Ohio Department of Natural Resources really did a great job with these small treasures scattered around the state. When you look at the world from those windows you see the world, our country in a whole new way. The sense of isolation is palpable, just the two of us, in the wealth and glory of Nature’s splendor, and there is less than 100 feet to the next cabin.

Preparation

To make sure we have all the information we need I put the Shawnee State Park in Entune on our Tacoma. I installed Portsmouth, the nearest real town, on the weather app on my phone, and check it often. Thursday is predicted to be 58 with a chance of rain, Friday cloudy and 53, Saturday sunny and 49 and Sunday cloudy and 60 degrees. It has changed several times in the last week. But, any of those days might work for a quick paddle around either lake. Or, they might stay in the back of the truck. We will be prepared though. 

Plus, I know exactly where the Kroger is in Portsmouth. My wife loves Kroger. She says they have the best deals and the most polite employees. She is a coupon clipping machine, and shops the sales with a keen eye for detail. I always check for a Kroger, anywhere we go. If the pictures are any indication the Portsmouth Kroger is much nicer than either the Athens or Nelsonville Kroger. It might even be as nice as the Kroger Marketplace in Gahanna, but I am not holding my breath. 

We will do some hiking, too, on the trails running through the ancient forests, with all of their secrets, and smells, sounds and natural mystery. But we will also walk along the river front and hike through downtown Portsmouth. Every town and city we have walked through had a story to tell, and it was always a good story. A tale of survival, struggling through difficult times, enjoying the wealth and warmth of economic growth. America lives and breathes on those streets, America will walk with you as you walk down those streets.  History at a relaxed stroll.

One of our favorite ways to find out about a place is to try appetizers at small local restaurants, local delicacies, born from legend or need, growing with the times, evolving from simple origins. You are what you eat, and you are definitely what you serve to people who happen in and ask what is good.

Taking a Detour

On the way home we are going to swing by Cincinnati and stop in at Jungle Jim’s (also installed on the navigation app in the pickup). It is a place we have to stop by whenever we can. It can be crowded, the help can be a little testy at times, but the place is spectacular. If it is food, and it isn’t at Jungle Jim’s it probably isn’t really food. They have miles of rows of shelves. We find things we can’t find anywhere else. Plus, it is just fun, wandering the aisles, looking at the selection, and thinking this is a crazy grocery store. It is a destination, we can kill several hours just looking, and we always find something we want.

Sometimes, I think we spend too much time walking through grocery stores. Maybe it is our way of reaching into our long lost past, hunter gatherers, making our way through life, harvesting our food, preparing to meet the challenges of the tumultuous week ahead. Work, alarms clocks, traffic jams, lunch in the break room, coffee in a mug you found in the the cupboard, it might be anybodies, the tension of the potential, “Hey, that is my coffee cup,” ringing through the building, everybody looking. So much tension, so much stress. Preparing for the awful requires dedication and calm. Zen and the art of grocery store browsing. I’m a subscriber.

* Fire at Midnight by Jethro Tull.

Married Life, and Other War Stories #FixThePlus

Anybody who knows me will tell you I love to go grocery shopping. It is a thrill, aisle after aisle of tasty treats. Food from one end to the other, with beer, and wine, and in some stores, bourbon. When you shuffle off this mortal coil and join the choir invisible you may actually get a job working at Kroger (our favorite grocery store). Of course, all of the customers will have a tab that never needs paid so they just stop by and grab what they need, thank you profusely, and go home. While you get to stock the snack crackers right next to the canned, spray cheese, and realize that there is a heaven.

Anybody who knows my wife can tell you she does not like to take me shopping with her. She is a shopping machine, a super human calculator. Constantly adjusting her savings strategy based on availability. Scanning coupons, and combining mentally the "8 for 8" sale, of the "Buy 10 save 10" values. While performing some complicated mental mathematics involving the various discounts from combining several specials, and coupons she doesn't want to stop and talk about how delicious a root beer float might be after dinner, "oh by the way, what do you want for dinner? Chili dogs would be good."

All of this means I don't get to go very often. But, sometimes I weasel my way into her good graces, and she takes me. On those rare occasions I have to make sure things go according to plan. When she stops to choose the combinations of soups I drop a pack of boxed cupcakes in the cart. It has to be smooth, so she doesn't notice the movement. It has to be concealed, maybe behind the cauliflower, and broccoli. Here is today's shopping tip, don't hide them under the cases of bottled water, they become very difficult to eat.

It is a good idea to have a few handy phrases loaded up and ready to use. I like "Yes, I was kind of surprised when you grabbed the shopping cart with all of the candy bars stacked on your purse and the diet cola, and the fresh fruit like that." Another old favorite, "Those cookies must have fallen in during that earth tremor while we were in 'aisle 6, cookies, crackers, potato chips and assorted breakfast pastries.' What an aisle that is, huh? We should go through there one more time." It is important to say this casually, don't let your voice tremble. You have to be cool, or she will see right through you, this is just a little trip down memory lane.

That is enough for today, tune in tomorrow, to find out how to negotiate an action movie on Netflix, you don't want to miss that.