Trip Peek #22
Trip #86
Ohio NR Bus Tour

FOLK movie premierThis picture is from my 2010 Ohio NR Bus Tour day trip along the western half of Ohio’s portion of the National Road. Doug Smith, coauthor of A Traveler’s Guide to the Historic National Road in Ohio, acted as guide and provided much information when we stopped at several landmarks and as we rolled by others. The pictured stop is along the Ohio River to get a look at the 1849 Wheeling Suspension Bridge.


Trip Pic 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 trip journal it is from.

Old, Strong, and Fast

fpotp01Although I saw no single piece of equipment that possessed all three attributes, over the last couple of days I saw a lot of old stuff, strong stuff and fast stuff. The old stuff was primarily at the Greenville Farm Power of the Past 15th Annual Reunion with the strong stuff showing off at the day ending truck and tractor pull. That was Friday. The fast stuff blew by on Saturday at the East Coast Timing Association‘s event in Wilmington, Ohio.

A recent post told of my meeting up with an old friend after two score and seven years. That friend, Terry Wolfe, collects and restores Wheel Horse tractors and had several on display at the Greenville event. Despite my good intentions, I never did get a proper photo of the display. The shot at the top of the article, taken while the two of us, along with Terry’s brother Joe, sat and talked, is the best I can do.

fpotp02fpotp03fpotp04I had timed my arrival to take in a scheduled threshing demonstration. This is not something I haven’t seen before but it had been quite awhile and I generally enjoy seeing older equipment of any kind being used as intended. Before combined harvesters became common, wagon loads of freshly mowed grain stalks would be brought to a stationary thresher where the actual grain would be separated from the straw. As we walked toward the demonstration, Terry told me that this was where the term “straw boss” came from. The primary boss concerned himself with the machine and the grain while an assistant would head up a crew to deal with the accumulating straw. Terry also told me of the tradition of the straw boss tossing his (usually straw) hat into the thresher at the end of a job. Sometimes that hat made it through more or less intact. Sometimes not. The tradition is upheld here. There is no need for an actual “boss of the straw” during the demonstrations but the term is used, a bit incorrectly but quite respectfully, to refer to the fellow who would be the “big boss” in the field. Come Sunday, when the last demo of the year is over, a hat (Lester’s, I think) will go into the big machine.

fpotp07fpotp06fpotp05There is no shortage of big equipment on the Darke County Fairgrounds but Terry and I sort of concentrated on the smaller stuff during our walkabout. I’ve always been intrigued by “hit-and-miss” gasoline engines and the variety of mechanisms creative minds applied to to control their speed. A local connection is worth some extra points so I naturally liked the nicely restored Greenville built 1906 Wogaman in the first picture. Terry, who is under that red hat in the second picture, has exhibited here for several years but this year the Vintage Garden Tractor Club of America is holding their Ohio regional show in conjunction with Greenville Farm Power of the Past and there are even more of the smaller tractors than usual. Maybe the item in the last picture doesn’t quite fit the normal definition of “power” but I had never seen anything like it and just had to include it. A sign identified it as a MantaMower and a web search turned up the information that it was patented in 1923 and manufactured (in Grand Rapids, MI) until about 1962. There is no question of its being light and safe and I don’t doubt it was rather effective as long as you didn’t let the grass grow just a tad too tall.

fpotp08fpotp09fpotp10Here we have the strong stuff. The Darke County Tractor Pullers Association is a pretty big organization and this was one of their events. I don’t know enough about it to describe things much beyond saying there were some really big tractors dragging a bunch of weight for a pretty good distance.

fpotp12fpotp11The previously pictured tractors were clearly not stock but I do believe they were powered by engines that began their life in a tractor. These are from a class powered by transplanted and modified V8s. The announcer referred to them as “hot rods” although I have no idea whether that’s an official designation or not.

fpotp13fpotp14Trucks followed the tractors with more classes as well as more total entries. I think we made it to the beginning of the final class but left well ahead of the final pull. If you don’t count the clutches that were sacrificed getting off the line, there was very little equipment damage. Only one tractor had needed a tow and the dragging drive-shaft on the blue Ford was the only failure we witnessed among the trucks. Opportunities remained, however.

ecta_om01Calling it the “Ohio Mile”, the East Coast Timing Association holds several events each year on the former DHL facility now known as Wilmington Air Park. Speed runs take place on the runway in the background while the foreground pavement is the return lane as well as being used by spectators and other traffic.

ecta_om02ecta_om03ecta_om04We parked then walked to the starting line where a wild variety of vehicles, in no particular order, awaited their turn. It took us awhile to figure it out but we eventually realized that entrants were not timed through the mile but were clocked at its end. There is no need for jackrabbit starts or even super quick acceleration.

ecta_om07ecta_om06ecta_om05After watching a few fairly unexciting starts, we set out for the other end of the track. On the way, we paused at one of the field’s more unusual vehicles. It’s a 1951 Crosley Super Sport whose owner believes will go 110 MPH. Whether it did that today is unknown. In fact, I didn’t realize we had seen the car on course until I was home and looked at my pictures. I’ll update this when results of this meet are posted but, for now, the only performance information I have is the 56.9548 MPH it turned in during the May meet. The website promoted on the car contains little information about the car but does include a video that, along with a certain amount of “Jesus is my mechanic” flavoring, has some pictures of the car being built.

ADDENDUM 27-Aug-2014: The Run Log posted by the ECTA shows that the Crosley managed a run of 97.6987 MPH. Not quite the targeted 110 but getting closer.

ecta_om08ecta_om09ecta_om10One reason that we don’t know how the Crosley did today is that there is nothing like a scoreboard or other visual indication of speeds or anything else. Nor is there any PA in the normal sense. There is a low powered FM radio broadcast which, had we brought a pocket radio or chose to sit in the car, would have kept us informed. As it was, we picked up the occasional scrap of information only when we passed an appropriately tuned radio.

ecta_om12ecta_om11This is pure conjecture but my guess is that about one-third of ECTA  members would like more spectators to help with expenses and another third want more spectators to add some legitimacy and prestige to what they are doing. To the remaining third, spectators are probably a real aggravation. When we did hear the announcer, it was interesting and definitely added to the enjoyment. A signboard flashing a car’s speed might help but I think a few radios hanging on poles would help more and probably cost less.

Trip Peek #20
Trip #53
Byway to Dublin

Plain City Clock TowerThis picture is from the my 2007 Byway to Dublin road trip. The purpose of the trip was to attend the big Celtic Festival in Dublin, Ohio, and I spiced the drive up just a little by using two of Ohio’s Scenic Byways to get there. The first was the state’s shortest designated byway, the ten mile Olentangy Heritage Corridor Byway, then the slightly longer twenty-seven mile Big Darby Plains Scenic Byway. I found some rather interesting sights beside both byways and the roads in between then had a great time at the festival on the second day of the trip.


Trip Pic 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 trip journal it is from.

Trip Peek #19
Trip #12
Jaggin’ to Georgetown

Ohio Valley Antique Machinery ShowThis picture is from the my 2003 Jaggin’ to Georgetown day trip. At the time I had a GPS unit that could tell me how far away something was and in what direction but did no routing. I frequently used it to get somewhere by turning in the general direction of my destination whenever a turn was required. I called this “jagging”. While this might produce a nice stair step path on roads laid out like a checkerboard, this was seldom the case in the real world and some interesting things might pop up. On this occasion, I “jagged” my way to an antique farm machinery show in Georgetown. Ohio, where I also visited Ulysses Grant’s boyhood home and school.


Trip Pic 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 trip journal it is from.

Celebrating the Connection

mcohc01Celebrating two weeks in a row. I’m in either a rut or a groove. Last week’s post was on my visit to the “Diana: A Celebration” exhibit in Cincinnati. This one is on my visit to a “Member Celebration” in Columbus on Saturday, May 24. This is the third such event for the organization though for the first two the celebrants were members of the Ohio Historical Society and they are now members of the Ohio History Connection. The first public use of the new name was part of the celebration.

mcohc02mcohc03mcohc04The “Member Celebration” was at the Ohio History Center and coincided with the season opening of the adjacent Ohio Village which, in turn, coincided with the opening of a two day Civil War era Soldiers’ Aid Fair.

mcohc07mcohc06mcohc05This display of rare and exotic items may not have been the biggest or most highly promoted aspect of the fair but it was my favorite.

mcohc08mcohc09mcohc10Like many events at Ohio Village, a parade preceded an official opening proclamation. Weary and even wounded soldiers, presumably home on leave, joined in and helped elevate both patriotism and sympathy.

mcohc12mcohc11The celebration included a members only lunch but this is no small club. The picture shows part of the line, which I eventually joined, for the second seating. The closest things got to formal was a brief speech by Executive Director Bert Logan. There were thanks, of course, and something of an explanation for the name change. Although he didn’t use these exact words, the impression l have is that “Ohio Historical Society” often conjured up images of little old ladies and dusty old men sitting in dim parlors talking about old stuff. In surveys, “Ohio History Connection” created an image of something much more active and accessible. He pointed out that we not only need to preserve things for future generations but make those things available and interesting and understandable for future generations. Judging from the number of youngish folks both attending and participating, it seems Ohio’s history outfit is doing a pretty good job whatever the name.

Don’t Worry Be Hoppy — or Gene or Roy or…

hcf01I don’t know where Hopalong Cassidy was born. I don’t even know if his creator, Clarence E. Mulford, ever gave Hoppy a past that included parents. But I do know that William Boyd, who portrayed the fictional cowboy in movies and on both TV and radio, was born in Hendrysburg, Ohio, and that once a year, the folks in nearby Cambridge, hold a festival bearing his name. This year, I was paying more attention than usual and managed to attend the festival for the first time.

hcf02hcf03hcf04One of the festival’s big attractions is the collectors exhibit. Virtually everything displayed is for sale but, as is typical, there is a lot more looking than buying. Movie posters, games and other toys, and just about everything else ever associated with the cowboy heroes of the middle third of the last century is in there somewhere.

hcf06hcf05Cowboy and girl look-alikes are another major attraction. They spent a good deal of time behind tables signing photographs but they could also be seen just walking around the festival. It was easy to imagine a rancher’s wife turning to her husband and asking “Who were those masked men?”

hcf07hcf08I was there on Saturday which was contest day. First up was the Little Buckaroo Contest. All four participants managed to win a trophy but most of the crowd would have probably been happy if every prize in the place had been awarded to the shy fellow in the second picture.

hcf09hcf10hcf11The look-alike contest was a little more serious but not much. When I saw the phrase “look alikes” on the festival schedule, I envisioned a town full of Hopalong Cassidys. That wasn’t the case at all and I believe that the only real duplication was two Lash Larues. This is a well organized and coordinated activity. There were two John Waynes but one was the eye-patch wearing Rooster Cogburn and the other represented Wayne from an earlier era. Two Lone Rangers marked a changing of the guard. The “blue” Ranger is retiring this year and was introducing the “red” Ranger who, in the future, will be the lone Lone Ranger. In my opinion, anyone who cannot identify the three hombres in the pictures had best stay away from festivals of this sort.

hcf12hcf13Getting all the contestants in a single picture wasn’t easy. That is an impressive line-up for sure. A panel of judges selected Lash Larue, Tonto, and the Lone Ranger as finalists then audience applause was used to select the winner. Maybe. All three rounds of applause sounded about the same to me and it’s just possible that first place was awarded to the Ranger partly for sentimental reasons. As I mentioned earlier, this is his last appearance and, although he promised he would be back at the festival next year, he will conceal his identity by not wearing a mask.

hcf16hcf15hcf14A third festival draw is this bevy of stars. That’s John Provost of Lassie, Roberta Shore and Don Quine of The Virginian, and Don Collier of High Chaparral in the group picture. Edd Byrnes of 77 Sunset Strip arrived shortly after the picture was taken. That’s John and Edd in the individual shots. Edd’s scheduled appearance got the most discussion when the festival came up a week or so ago. Friends wondered if the former Kookie still owned or needed a comb. I just take the pictures and leave it to others to decide if that hair is eighty years old and/or its natural color.


dfringeI don’t recall ever seeing a Hopalong Cassidy moving picture show in the theater but I was a big fan of the TV show. I remember having a Hopalong cap pistol and holster but my prized possession was a belt. It just now occurred to me that the belt and holster may have originally been a set but my memories are far too dim to say. The belt was black with a script “Hopalong Cassidy” and men on horses in white. I suspect that part of my belt focused favoritism was due to my being able to wear it full time whereas there were Mom defined limits on where I could tote a gun. The name and figures were merely printed on the black leather and were eventually rubbed away so the only a few flecks, none of which resembled a letter or a horse or much of anything else, were left. It was impossible to tell by looking that I accessorized my garb to honor Hoppy but I knew.

The belt’s buckle was stamped out of thin metal to imitate perfectly (I was certain) solid silver. It was always on my left side. Dad worked in a factory and wore his belt buckle on the side to keep it away from his work. I did the same for years and can’t remember when I stopped. I do remember one unintended result. On a visit to the big city (Greenville, Ohio, 2012 population 13,105), probably while Mom tended to my younger sister, I checked the light, looked both ways, and darted into the path of a turning car. It was moving slowly and stopped immediately but I was knocked to the ground. Mom, the driver, and everyone else in the area quickly clustered around me. A thorough examination revealed that my only “injury” was a red and slightly sore impression of the belt buckle on my side. Hopalong Cassidy saved my life.

My search for a picture with the belt came up empty so the best I can do is the shot of me with some sort of cowboy scene on my jacket. I’m not sure Hoppy would approve of the gaudy fringe but I know he would have liked the color.

Book Review
The House on Hathaway Road
The Henkalines

The House on Hathaway Road coverNot only did I graduate from high school smack dab in in the middle of the ’60s, it was smack dab in the middle of the Henkalines, too. There were four of them; a girl and three boys. The girl was a few years older than the boys. The oldest boy graduated a year before me and the next a year after. Though I was most familiar with the two boys closest to me in age, I knew them all. It was a small school in a small town in rural Ohio. Everybody knew everybody.

All four siblings contributed to the book. Jack, the guy just a year behind me, got things started in the 1990s by recording remembered stories on his laptop during idle time on business trips. The idea was to provide some personal history to his own children. This was a low priority and sometimes forgotten task until the death of a friend gave Jack a nudge. The friend had long maintained a journal and his widow told Jack how much that helped her and the children deal with the loss. It prompted Jack to return to his recording. In time, the brothers and sister became involved in filling in some blanks and recording their own stories and ultimately producing The House on Hathaway Road.

After introducing their parents and the house they grew up in, each of the four “kids” provides a chapter. Chapters on the final days of the parents and on the next generation follow. A member of that next generation died in an automobile accident in 2007 and there is a chapter dedicated to her. A Henkaline family tree concludes the book.

Jack’s original goal, to pass on some history to the next generation, is clearly accomplished and then some. There are certainly items in the book that will be of little interest for non-Henkalines but there are many more that provide glimpses of the 1950s and ’60s that almost anyone can enjoy. There are some truly universal memories like 24 cent gas and gathering in front of the TV to watch whatever Dad wanted to watch. The Henkalines even include a chapter titled “Nostalgia” with pictures of things that most people of a certain age will remember. Things like skate keys, TV test patterns, and Burma Shave signs. Other memories might not be exactly universal unless you lived in “the country” in the Midwest. In that case, things like chicks in the mail, laundry day with a wringer washer and “on line” drying, party line telephones, and all-purpose aprons might sound familiar.

One of the stories that Jerry (the guy a year ahead of me) tells might be simply entertaining to most readers but for anyone attending Ansonia High School in 1963 it’s a major highlight on the memory reel. Jerry was a starting tackle on the team that broke a 38 game losing streak. I recall a story that newscasters Huntley and Brinkley, who ended most programs with something lighthearted, used our first victory since 1958 as that night’s closer. I’ve never found any documentation for that but Jerry’s reporting of an uncle in Oregon who first heard the news on radio indicates there was some national coverage and that the Huntley-Brinkley story could possibly be true. I’ve always considered my time at AHS to have been excellent preparation for being a Bengals’ fan.

The book’s dust cover speculates that readers might find themselves saying, “That story reminds me of what happened to me growing up.” That’s likely true of almost any member of my generation regardless of where that growing up occurred and absolutely true for those of us who grew up within a few miles of Hathaway Road. Those in other generations will still enjoy the book but they might get jealous.

The House on Hathaway Road: Where Memories Began, The Henkalines, Aventine Press, February 18, 2013, hardcover, 9 x 6 inches, 286 pages, ISBN 978-1593308124
Available through Amazon.

Trip Peek #14
Trip #31
OH Lincoln

April snow in OhioThis picture is from the my 2005 OH Lincoln road trip. The trip was centered around my first ever Ohio Lincoln Highway League annual meeting and marked the first time I drove Ohio’s part of the Lincoln Highway from end to end. Starting, on April 22, in East Liverpool, I spent three days getting to, and a little beyond, the Indiana border. The first day was gray, the second wet, and the third white. Clouds and rain are pretty common for late April but snow is definitely not. Day two actually started with very light and very brief flurries then day three began with snow on the ground. Intermittent flurries continued throughout the day and provided the scene captured in the photo.

Trip Pic Peek #13 — Trip #56 — Indy Sixty-Two


Trip Pic 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 trip journal it is from.

My Wheels — Chapter 8
1957 Austin Healey

Austin-Healey 100-6Why in the world would a couple of newly weds buy a ten year old British sports car in the middle of winter? I am, at present, as baffled as anyone though I apparently once knew the answer to that question. A month or so after our 1966 Boxing Day wedding, my bride and I purchased a 1957 Austin-Healey 100-6. The one pictured is a 1958 model but looks pretty much like our ’57. This was not a play car to park next to a dependable sedan. This was our only car.

The Renault‘s reliability had steadily decreased until I sold it to a friend who either rebuilt or replaced the engine and drove it for quite awhile. I almost bought a 1959 Plymouth an aunt had recently replaced and actually “test drove” the car for a few weeks before acquiring the Healey. Buying the Plymouth would have been the sensible thing to do. But we were 18 and 19, I was a full time student, she was just out of high school, and we had just gotten married. Why spoil it by doing something sensible?

The Healey lasted more than a year. It was a great summer car and an OK winter car. Climbing snow covered Cincinnati hills was not its strong suit but it got around as good as many other cars of the day and it was reasonably warm in slowish city driving. Things were a little different on the open road. It helped that it had a removable hard top. It was fiberglass and not heavily insulated but was infinitely better than the cloth top. But it was a true roadster with sliding Plexiglas side curtains rather than roll up windows. At highway speed on a cold day, the heater stayed on full blast trying to keep up with the air escaping through the side curtains.

That soft top I mentioned was on the car once while I owned it. Attaching it had much more in common with raising a tent than with raising a convertible top. The hard top came off in the spring and went on in the fall. In between, with the one exception to prove that erecting the canvas top was possible, we made do with a tonneau cover and, yes, we did get wet now and then.

It was called a 2+2 with a pair of padded depressions in a shelf behind the seats. I actually remember carrying someone in those “seats” for a short distance but the shelf was much better at holding a couple bags of groceries than a couple derrieres.

The 100-6 was produced for three years. In 1956 it replaced the four-cylinder 100 which immediately became known as the 100-4. The 100-6 had a 2.6 liter six-cylinder engine and a four-speed transmission with overdrive. In 1959, it was replaced with the 2.9 liter Austin-Healey 3000 which had a rather long run through 1967.

Cars are often remembered for the misadventures they were part of and here is a story that helps me remember the Healey. For reasons not quite remembered, there was no license bracket on the front for awhile. It had been damaged somehow and repairing it had slipped entirely off my schedule. We were driving home after a visit to my parents. On state route 49, near the town of Arcanum, we passed a state trooper headed the other direction. He turned around, turned on his lights, and pulled us over. There was no “serious” issue, like speeding, but there was no front license. After checking a few things, he gave me a written warning and went on his way.

A couple of weeks later, I was back in Darke County. The low slung Healey had suffered a few scrapes and bumps on its crankcase and had developed a minor leak. I arranged to meet a high school buddy who had a welder so we — actually he — could fix the leak. The repair was accomplished and I headed home. At just about the same spot as before, that same state trooper passed the Healey with the same license plate not there. When I saw his brake lights come on, I immediately turned off on a side road and, with a few quick turns on the narrow roads, made my getaway. Satisfied that my evasive maneuvers had worked, I was starting to slow when I saw it. The road ahead was unpaved. It had not been graded for awhile. A fairly tall gravel ridge stood in its center. Before I could stop, I was plowing that gravel. Then I was oiling it.

The gravel had ripped off the recently applied weld and the crankcase was leaking much worse than it ever had before. I lost a lot of oil by the time I made it back to the main road. At a little gas station and grocery store, I bought a five gallon can of used oil. I believe farmers sometimes used used oil in slow reving equipment so it was often available for sale. The leak was not quite as bad as I feared but I still lost close to another gallon getting back to the friend’s house. He had just been visiting from college and was already gone when I got there. His dad let me use the welder and I managed to plug the leak with one of the ugliest welding jobs ever. This was the first and last time anyone ever left me alone with a welder. Then I drove home and fixed the license bracket the very next day.

Although our car must have looked just like the one in the picture when new, when we had it the paint had lost its shine and there was rust. Not major visible rust but hidden and interior rust in floor pans and such. The car was never garaged while we had it and I suspect that was true of much of its life. The rust and mechanical malaise led to the Austin-Healey being replaced before the next summer rolled around.

Previous Wheels: Chapter 7 — 1961 Renault 4CV
Next Wheels: Chapter 9 — Honda 65


Although this post is semi-random (I picked it from two possibilities) it appears during Cincinnati’s first snow event of the year (which is kinda why I picked it) and gives me an excuse to tell a semi-related story.

1959 Plymouth FuryThe 1959 Plymouth Fury at left is a dead ringer for the one I passed up to get the Austin-Healey. A rather spiffy ride, don’t you think? On one snowy night, my new wife and I were out with a friend in my borrowed car. The snow was not deep but the big Plymouth was not doing well on the slick streets. At one point, as we attempted to climb a slight incline, the friend and I got out to push while my wife took over driving. It did not take much to get the car moving but stopping to let us back in would have left the car stuck once again. Instead, my friend and I each grabbed a fin and “skied” alongside the Plymouth to the top of the hill.