Columbus, Ohio, again

 Greetings after a long weekend to Columbus, Ohio, and back. Corridors of autumn colors all the way. The grape vineyards in Chautauqua County had gone yellow and brown.

        Usually by this time of the month, frost and winds have taken their toll, but not this year. The atmospheric phenomenon that's blessed us with this long stretch of beautiful days held steady all weekend. Except Monday after we crossed back into New York. Must have been Lake Erie generating those gloomy skies. And now, on Tuesday, it's back to sunshine.

        The X-1, with its defective shifter freshly replaced under an extended warranty at 109,000 miles and its tires newly inflated, ate up the highway without a burp, sometimes at 90 mph or better. Driving time: About 5 hours each way. Monica nixed a proposal to follow U.S. Route 62 through Amish country to Canton, Ohio, on the first part of the return trip. She just wanted to get home.

        Our only breaks, aside from a couple bathroom stops each way, were at Portage Pies in Westfield on the way out, picking up a peach and an apple -- my God, they're good! -- and for gas at a Shell station just north of Columbus on the way back.

        Gas mileage was par for expressways, about 34 mpg. Stations in Ohio flashed prices higher than Buffalo -- mostly $4.49 vs. mostly $4.29 here for regular. But the X-1 doesn't drink regular. It was $5.80 for 93 octane, 90 cents more than my pre-trip fill-up at Delta Sonic. First time a gas pump has nailed me for more than $80. 

        I always feel at home with Monica's nephew Justin and his wife Brittny. We all seem to be pretty much on the same wavelength. This was our first look at four-month-old Benjamin, who's a big smiler. His brother Henry once again was a delight. Now talking -- although only his parents can decipher what he's saying -- he's got a voracious appetite and he's a grabber. Two years old next month, he'll go after anything within reach.

        Watching Henry flashed me back to my youngest days. He was recovering from an ear infection -- I remember lots of those. And I remember what it was like wearing diapers and how much I wanted to be rid of them. I'm sure he does too. Monica, Justin and Brittny said their memories don't go that far back.

        Henry and Benjamin (Henny and Benny?) being 17 months apart, I envision them being big-time playmates as they grow up, like me and brother Tom, with our 22 months between us.

        With the kids, I expected we'd spend these days close to home in suburban New Albany and we did. We met for lunch (after Henry went to kid birthday parties in parks both days) at restaurants downtown, minutes away from their house -- the brew and sports pub Rusty Bucket once more, which is part of Brittny's family's restaurant holdings, and Hudson 29, which seems to be all booths.

        Both are in this little shopping complex in the heart of the town, off Market Street. So were the places where our takeout dinners came from -- Mellow Mushroom Pizza and Thai food from Bendi Wok N Bar.

        New Albany continues to seem like a little world of its own, like where the Jim Carrey character lives in "The Truman Show." Justin and Brittny are in a newish neighborhood of almost identical homes with brick front walkways and little mailboxes at the curb. It surrounds a two-block-square park with a playground and gazebo, where we took afternoon walks with Henry. Otherwise, we watched football -- interrupted by endless political attack ads, including that godawful one featuring gubernatorial candidate Amy Acton's pathetic mom -- and scrolled our laptops.

        This was our fourth visit to Columbus. First time in November 2021 was for Justin and Brittny's wedding, which was in Dublin, northwest of the city. Second time, May 2023, was on the way back from the Bourbon Trail in Louisville, when they lived on the edge of downtown and we stayed a night with them. Third time, en route to Chicago in August 2025, they'd moved to New Albany and had Henry. Our hotel, a Hampton, was a short hop away, on a commercial strip on nearby U.S. Route 62.

        This time Monica booked us into an upgrade from the Hampton, the Hilton Columbus at Easton, where Justin's parents, Mark and Jackie, had stayed. Still in the northeast suburbs, 20 minutes away via expressways, it's vast (345 guest rooms, 16 meeting rooms) and kind of overwhelming. Open parking space late at night was a long way from the lobby. A shortcut to our second-floor room Saturday evening took us past a large Muslim wedding reception. Sunday night there was table setup for a statewide conference of Ohio educators the next day.

        To complicate our travels to and fro, Monica's GPS  didn't clue us in about highway construction that blocked the expressway exit we needed to get there at night. It also messed us up on our way out on Monday. It automatically changed our destination from Whole Foods in the huge shopping complex next to our hotel, where we planned to stock up for the highway, to a different store in another section with a similar name. At least it was helpful on the way home. It alerted us to every upcoming police speed trap.

Cheers,

Dale