T's Travels

Ohio, part 2: On "the Road" again

We had a nice time in Cincinnati and I was sorry to leave my husband. But once I was on Interstate 70 I couldn’t wait to get to the exit outside Zanesville and head for the National Road Museum/Zane Grey Museum. I actually had to drive on Route 40, which felt right because what had originally been the National Road is now I-70 and Route 40.

I pulled into a nearly empty parking lot (it was, after all, a school day) and walked into the large building housing not only the two museums I came for but—wait! there’s more!--also the Ohio Pottery Museum. Curator Kat Miller greeted me and sold me my ticket. Kat is very passionate about the museum and was happy to show me around.

Those readers born after President Eisenhower’s interstate road system was created might not be familiar with the National Road, “America’s first federally planned and funded highway” (see Karl Raitz, ed., The National Road). The original plan was for a route from Cumberland, Maryland, through southwestern Pennsylvania, to Wheeling, West Virginia. Building the road began in 1806. By 1850 it stretched to Vandalia, Illinois, and beyond.

A centerpiece of the museum is a huge Conestoga wagon, which is what the first travelers used—Henry Ford was still 100 years in the future. When I see artifacts like the wagon, I try to imagine my 20th/21st-century self in them. No, couldn’t do it this time. No upholstery, no bathrooms along the road, and most likely plenty of potholes.

There were places to stop, though. Drovers’ stations were the 19th-century equivalent of truck stops—places for those hauling goods or livestock long distances. Once stagecoaches really started carrying people west in numbers, taverns sprung up to meet the demand for food and rest. The museum’s very impressive diorama (largest in existence when it was built) of the National Road, from its early days under construction up to the 1920s, when it became Route 40, illustrates that growth.

The National Road witnessed the evolution of travel in America. Once the railroad system developed in the mid-1800s, the National Road became more a farm-to-market highway. But by the beginning of the 20th century cars were starting to take to the road, and so the museum has a ca. 1899 steam-powered automobile (which I couldn’t picture myself in either!).

From there I moved into the Zane Grey Museum section. I had visited the Zane Grey Museum in Lackawaxen, PA, as part of my first book. Grey is considered the “Father of the Western Novel,” and the PA museum is his home on the Delaware Water Gap. I was curious to see how Ohio would add to my Zane Grey experience.

The answer is “quite well.” The Ohio museum contains artifacts donated by Grey’s widow. I saw movie posters, book illustrations, even his dentist license! This “High Priest of the Outdoors” (he had more than one title) loved deep-sea fishing so the museum has a chair and rod and reel for marlin fishing.

My favorite display was a complete replica of his study in Altadena, CA, including a lap-board desk. I love seeing writers’ work areas—I always wonder if they daydreamed, procrastinated, doodled (these days it would be playing Solitaire on the computer, not that I would know anything about that). With the aid of his editor-wife Dolly, Grey completed 120 books, so he was certainly doing something right.

The final section of this multifaceted museum is Ohio pottery. Zanesville, Weller, Rookwood, Roseville—can you say Antiques Roadshow? That was the extent of my familiarity with these names and, honestly, television does not do this pottery justice. These pieces were breathtaking in person.

When I first saw “National Road Museum/Zane Grey Museum” (and then the pottery), I wondered why they were together. But while you may not at first think these three subjects are related, they do have a common theme. A road, a writer, and works of art: all American crafted.

This museum is a great stop on a very long interstate. If you can’t make it to the museum anytime soon, you can watch this video on YouTube. I left the museum with one more stop to make . . .

To be continued . . .

Ohio, part 1: Drive, she said

In what was surely a moment of insanity, I agreed to meet my husband in Cincinnati (in fact, I suggested it!). But I had to teach on Tuesday night, he had to be in Cincy by noon on Wednesday. It would be a 466-mile trip. So he flew, I drove.

I dropped him off at the airport at 6:00 am (still dark!), filled my tank, and hit the Pennsylvania turnpike. As the sun came up in my rearview mirror I thought, “only eight hours and I’m there!”

One of the perks of driving alone is not having to coordinate rest stops or food preferences with a traveling companion. I stopped at the first rest area for breakfast. I stopped at the second rest area for more coffee without anyone saying, “We just stopped!” I wasn’t the only one, either—I was amused to see some of the people in line from the last place.

After that, it was tunnel, tunnel, road work, tunnel. I kept punching the buttons on my radio but I could feel the boredom taking over. Two hours on the road and I was already bored? I told myself it was just because I knew the turnpike so well and it would improve when I got off.

At the New Stanton exit I headed south on I-70. Maybe it was because I was driving alone, but the local place names started to strike me as funny. Hunker, Wyano, Twilight . . . I took a picture of the sign at the Lover exit and tried to come up with their town slogan, but “Lover is for Lovers” just didn’t sound like it would bring in the tourists.

Finally, I crossed into West Virginia. Yes, I sang “Almost Heaven . . . “ At Wheeling I saw a sign for the “Doc and Chickie Williams Highway, Country Music’s Royal Couple.” I wouldn’t know until I got home that Doc Williams had just passed away a few months before. He and his wife, Chickie, often performed on Jamboree USA in Wheeling and all over the country (see www.docwilliams.com for their entire story).

West Virginia passed in nearly the blink of an eye. I stopped at a Sheetz convenience store and thought, “This could be Pennsylvania except for the beer on sale.” But the beer was also Pennsylvanian--Yuengling!

And then Ohio—only four hours, I thought (not nearly as brightly as I’d embraced the idea of eight hours five hours ago). I tried to convince myself that Ohio would be interesting since it was territory I had only crossed once before, and that was in the backseat of a car squeezed between my mother-in-law and her sister as we headed for a family reunion. But I soon realized that Ohio looks a lot like Pennsylvania, except the font on the road signs is different.

And then I saw a sign. Not something supernatural, but a real sign on the side of the road. It read “Zane Grey Museum/National Road Museum.” Wow! I thought. It’s like Ohio knew I—collector of small museums—was coming. Pennsylvania has a Zane Grey Museum and of course I wanted to compare the two. And I had edited The National Road, a two-volume set on the history of what became Route 40, so of course I had to see that as well.

But I was still on my mad dash across Ohio. I had to be in Cincinnati within a few hours, so I made a note to stop on my return trip. Energized, I kept driving. It was a relief to turn south at Columbus and then finally see Cincinnati ahead. I checked into the Garfield Suites only an hour later than I had planned, which for me is pretty good.

To be continued . . .