Trip Peek #118
Trip #151
Only Rock and Roll

This picture is from my 2018 Only Rock and Roll trip. The picture is from part two of the three-part outing. It started with a day at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland, OH, continued with a Tubes concert in Akron, OH, and concluded with a Little Steven concert in Wabash, IN. I had been to the Hall of Fame a couple of times, had seen the Tubes once, and had seen Little Steven Van Zandt several times. In the past, he had been backing Bruce Springsteen as a member of the E Street Band. This time he was fronting his own fifteen-piece Disciples of Soul and it was glorious.


Trip Peeks are short articles published when my world is too busy or too boring for a current events piece to be completed in time for the Sunday posting. In addition to a photo thumbnail from a completed road trip, each Peek includes a brief description of that photo plus links to the full-sized photo and the associated trip journal.

Fallingwater and…

After checking out Frank Lloyd Wright designed buildings in 2018 and 2019, I planned to keep the string going with a visit to Fallingwater in 2020. It didn’t happen, of course. Tours were shut down for COVID-19 in March of that year and did not return until March of this year. So a trip once planned for April is taking place in August (Hey, they both start with ‘A’!) two years later. Some Lincoln Highway and National Road mileage is included along with some historic lodging.

This entry is to let blog-only subscribers know about the trip and to provide a place for comments. The journal is here.

Twelfth Night in the Park

The Cincinnati Shakespeare Company has presented Shakespeare in the Park every summer since 2007. Benefiting from the relative safety of the open air, that even includes the pandemic-filled summers of 2020 and 2021. Despite considering it several times, I’d never attended a performance until last Friday. That’s when the combination of a convenient location, a clear schedule, and excellent weather came together to get me to a presentation of Twelfth Night in nearby Summit Park.

Summit Park occupies what was once the Blue Ash Airport. One of its most notable features is a 153-foot observation tower. An observation tower seems like something that might be leftover from the airport but this one is not. It was constructed in 2017 as part of the conversion to a park. The tower is temporarily closed for “enhancements and improvements” so I still have not done any observing from it.

The sad truth is that I have only been to the park once before. That was to try one of the restaurants there (Brown Dog) during Burger Week in 2020. I seriously considered returning but in the end decided to try one of the newer eateries. Although not all locations of Chick ‘n Cone do, the one in Summit Park air-fries its chicken. The name comes from the chain featuring chicken served in a cone for “Handheld Chicken & Waffles”. After dinner, I headed next door to Higher Gravity for a Scottish Ale (Sixth Sense Brewing) dessert.

The performance takes place in a covered area between a couple of the original restaurants. There is some permanent seating but most attendees brought their own lawn chairs. The play began with the cast members introducing themselves.

All the actors wore microphones and speakers at the corners of the stage made every line clear within the covered area and beyond.

I’d brought no chair and I tend to prefer roaming to sitting at outdoor events in any case. In this particular case, the area available for roaming included that beyond the play’s backstage. Of course, patrons of the restaurants and people going to and from other sections of the park were roaming in this area too.

I’m guilty of leaving before the play was over. That had nothing to do with the performance but was 100% my fault. I could blame it on the heat of the sun and the distractions of the park but it was my own roaming that made them a factor. The actors were well practiced and enthusiastic and the whole production was top-notch. If anything, I believe the performance might have been better than I expected. Maybe I’ve attended Theater in the Ground at the Renaissance Festival too many times. This was absolutely nothing like that at all. Now that I realize the quality of these outdoor CSC productions, I’ve a feeling I will be more enthused about going the second time than I was the first.  

A Pair of Zippers

I don’t know that I’ve ever heard anyone else call those who travel on ziplines zippers but it seems reasonable to me. Of course, John and I weren’t all that concerned about what we should call ourselves while we were flying through the air with the greatest of ease. That last phrase comes from an 1867 song titled That Daring Young Man on the Flying Trapeze. Yeah, we weren’t on a trapeze and neither were we all that daring or the least bit young. Plus, to be honest, our flying was not actually done with the greatest of ease — or grace. But it was fun.

The two of us have talked about trying a zipline for a few years. For the last couple of years, our excuse has been COVID-19 shutdowns. I don’t remember what our excuses were before that. When Ozone Zipline Adventures reopened earlier this summer, our last excuse was gone. Last week we picked a date based partially on a ten-day weather forecast.  When we headed to the site on Friday morning, it was quite apparent that the forecast had been right for at least one day out of the ten. It was perfect.

Ozone is operated by Camp Kern YMCA near Fort Ancient Earthworks & Nature Preserve. Multiple ziplines in the trees provide what is known as a canopy tour. A restored 1806 stone house that once operated as Cross Keys Tavern serves as the meeting place for zipline patrons. We were a few minutes early but a note on the front door assured us that we were at the right place and guides and other zippers began arriving in short order. A small bus carried us up the hill where we were helped into sturdy harnesses and supplied with hardhats. We took a picture because we could.

The group paused for some instruction at the base of the first tower. Two guides accompany each group. KJ, on the left, would be our “receiving guide”. He crossed each line first and unhooked subsequent crossers as they arrived. Jesse was our “sending guide”. She connected participants to each line and signaled when it was time to go. She and KJ coordinated crossings by radio. As part of their presentation, one of them mentioned that, if you were nervous, it was best to go early to avoid watching everyone else. When it came time to climb the stairs, no one moved and it eventually became apparent that all the others were waiting for John and me. We were clearly the senior members of the group but we were also the only zipline rookies. We had been silently elected “Most Likely to Be Nervous”.

So John headed up the stairs and I followed. At the top, KJ pointed out a few things as he was hooking up then zipped off into the trees. Then it was John and then me. Only when I was about to step off of the wooden platform did I realize that the vote at the bottom of the tower had been pretty accurate. Until that point, I had been thinking of this as something very similar to going down the big slide on the school playground. I realized how different it was as I looked out at all those trees and not much else. Maybe I had been nervous before but didn’t know it. Now I knew I was nervous but didn’t have time for it. I also didn’t have much time for pictures. I had my little Panasonic with me but it was usually tucked deep in a pocket and did not get used a lot. The picture at left is of a member of our group crossing after I did. I’m not even sure if it is the first or second line.

The third line is the longest of the tour and one of two that cross over the Little Miami River. Because of its length, zipping to the end is not automatic. At its beginning, KJ gave us some pointers on increasing our likelihood of making it and some instructions on what to do if we didn’t. The advice was essentially to do more of what we had been practicing on the first two lines which was to keep your legs tucked in (called “cannonballing”) and your body in line with the cable. If forward travel ended short of the platform, you were to grip the cable (Ahead of the trolley!) to keep from traveling backward and KJ would come out and tow you in. The second picture is KJ heading over the river to be both “receiver” and “retriever”. No one rolled back to the middle of the river but more than half of our group did require a short tow. This was accomplished by KJ hanging almost upside down in his harness and sort of “walking” with his feet on the bottom side of the cable. Pretty impressive.

The line back across the river is a little shorter. Once there, this swinging bridge leads to the last two ziplines of the tour. We had crossed two similar bridges earlier in the day.

The canopy tour really was fun and truly scenic when I could pull my eyes away from what was directly in front of me. My “nervousness” certainly diminished and would no doubt disappear completely after a few more trips but I’m not sure there will be more. With the possible exception of climbing that first tower, there was nothing really strenuous but neither is it the carefree floating I’ve seen in some photos. There’s a reason that retired folk comprised only 20% of our group and I’m sure that was higher than average.

Trains, Blues, and Automobiles

This was an incredibly busy weekend in southwest Ohio. A list limited to things I was personally interested in includes the Lebanon Blues Festival, New Richmond’s Cardboard Boat Regatta, and Paddlefest on Cincinnati’s riverfront. Of these three, the only one I had never attended was Paddlefest so that’s where I thought I’d spend my Saturday morning. By the time the day arrived, steam engine excursions on the Lebanon Mason Monroe Railroad had been added to the list of things of interest to me, and predictions of rain threatened all four (and actually did in Paddlefest).

Plans to head to the river turned into plans to stay home but I kept an eye on the weather. When it looked like there might be a dry window in the afternoon, I booked a seat on the LM&M. I figured that, even if it rained, sitting inside a railroad car wouldn’t be too bad.

I looked over the engine and grabbed photos of the station and the car I’d been assigned. Then it was time to board.

I snapped a picture of the other side of the station as we pulled out. The station is beautifully landscaped by the local garden club. It does not play an active role in passenger handling, however; a ticket counter and gift shop are in a building across the street.

The route isn’t particularly scenic. A green wall of foliage is often quite close although sometimes farm fields open things up a bit. There are even a few art displays that seem to be for the benefit of train passengers.

There are three passenger cars on the train. The one I was in has cloth-covered seats; the other two have vinyl. They were built in 1929 but the conductor wasn’t sure when “my” car was built. She said she had heard dates from 1926 through the ’30s. I walked through all three cars to get a look down the tracks.

Just before the train reached the station, I could see that Broadway was blocked off for a car show associated with the blues festival. After exiting the train, I walked the one block up the hill to see classic cars parked in front of the historic Golden Lamb and on both sides of the street for a couple of blocks.

Then I turned off Broadway to stroll past the many vendors to the music stage. A last-minute cancelation had resulted in The Bluebirds, a familiar and favorite band, being on that stage.

During their set, I got shots of Marcos (and his guitar), Bam, Mike, and Pete.

I took off after that and stopped to grab a picture of the train on its last run of the day. There are few things that are as obvious polluters as a coal-fired locomotive and I’m glad that there aren’t all that many running anymore. But I’m sure glad that there are a few.