My little feet did some traveling this month and these dogs are tired.
The first “Ramblin” of note was a shuffle around the relatively new trail on the north side of the Grand River at Varooman Rd with my occasional walking bud, Alex. As we strolled along the floodplain, I am afraid I dominated the conversation extolling the values of a properly built trail and sharing my concerns with the ever-expanding presence of non native plants. However, we also managed to discuss the recent email I received inviting both of us to share our perspectives on the folk music explosion that occurred in the 1960s and 70s.
It seems that the good folks planning the Lake Erie Folk Festival think that Mr. Bevan and I might have a thought or two to share. Of course, Alex has had some very real experiences from this time, especially from NE Ohio, and I might have had an observation or two from SW Ohio. My own life experiences were enhanced by growing up with two older brothers who were both heavily involved with the music of the early 60s and 70’s. If this does happen in 2026, I am sure we will have a good time and might even offer a few salient points for consideration.
While we didn’t solve any world problems, we did have a good hike.
The next week found me making my way to Marietta for a performance as First Settlement House Concerts, so-called as this was the location of the first town in Ohio. My host happens to live right across the street from Mound Cemetery. Yep, a Native American burial mound that enterprising pioneers must have decided that the previous culture had chosen a good place to bury people, and continued the practice.
The morning after my show, I got up and walked around the cemetery and the neighborhood. The tranquillity of my walk was accentuated by a cacophony of music coming from the dozens of bird species making their way to their nesting areas. I mean, after all, this was in the middle of what is known as the “Biggest Week In American Birding”. While I don’t propose to be an expert birder, I could certainly attest that there were a variety of birds singing at the top of their little bird lungs.
After a lovely breakfast, I was in the truck and traveling along the Ohio River en route to the SERFA music conference in Owensboro, Kentucky. Showing my geographical nativity, I thought that this would be a three or four-hour trip. I didn’t realize that the bluegrass state stretched that far to the west! All said and done, this turned out to be well over a 6-hour poke but it was mostly along sections of the Ohio River that I have never traveled, so I really didn’t mind the drive.
The river has its own vibe with little bits of history mixed with the development associated with any waterway big enough to fuel commerce, and the Ohio is big at the beginning and gets bigger as she flows toward the Mississippi.
When I got to Owensboro I enjoyed several strolls along the river and watched tug after tug pulling or pushing barges on the river. I also enjoyed the Bluegrass Hall of Fame which was next to my hotel and was the host site for several components of the conference. As a matter of fact, I happened to get selected to perform on the main stage in the hall on the opening night of the conference!
And yes for those curious minds, I can attest that the migrating birds seemed to enjoy the street trees in Owensboro as much as in Marietta! Over the course of the conference there were several occasions when walking back from late night showcases, a companion would comment on the birds singing in the illuminated parking lots. The all night illumination seems to confuse the birds, and they think it's dawn. The poor little guys were singing all night long.
For some reason, I thought it might be a good idea to split a show with my buddy Mike Ward from Detroit while he was in Ohio. So after the conference, we stopped in Dayton for a house concert of sorts, at the Vagabond Gallery on Sunday afternoon. It was a sparse crowd which was OK. You might imagine that after four late nights of listening and making music in Kentucky, we were running on fumes. Low key was all good.
I made it home just fine and in a few days was once again off and running. I rented a little camper trailer and headed to Lake Hope State park with my grandson and son-in-law for our spring camping trip. The last time I was in Lake Hope was in the early 1980s so I was looking forward to this return.
The Division of Ohio state parks was actually created in 1949, but at that time there were already a number of state owned lands that we considered parks. The oldest being Buckeye Lake, which was actually created in 1826. Many of these older parks have amenities that were constructed by the Civilian Conservation Corps, as part of the great WPA era. Both Lake Hope and Hocking Hills have projects that were initially created at this time
Today Ohio has something like 76 state parks, and I have been to a number of them but I had never made it to Hocking Hills and Old Man’s Cave, and this proved to be an exceptional day trip for us. The scenery was incredible. The trail was challenging and might not be suitable for folks with a fear of heights! Famous for its large overhanging sandstone cliffs and spectacular waterfalls, Old Man’s Cave proved to be an exhilarating experience and one I can highly recommend.
After taking in Old Man’s Cave, we had the time to make it to another state park. I had never heard of Rock House and this park proved to be a great surprise! Rock House was equally as dramatic as Old Man’s Cave with incredible views and remarkable sandstone formations, and the trails were even more challenging.
This day trip, mixed in with a little fishing, a daily campfire, a few tunes, and eating entirely too much food put Memorial Day weekend 2025 solidly in “W”.
And now it’s time to buckle down and get back to the grind!
Oh yeah… insider tip:
Shorty’s Diner maybe be hosting a brunch at Driftwood Point on Fathers’ Day.