If “moist” or similarly wet words serve as triggers for you, it may be wise to jump ahead a couple of paragraphs.  For over 9,000 years, the land that now makes up Wood County was moisture-laden to say the least.  After the glaciers of the last Ice Age receded, the lowlands of northwest Ohio filled up with swamp forests, prairies, and marshes.  The base layer of black gunk and muck proved to be such a transportation obstacle for early Europeans that they dubbed the area the Great Black Swamp.  Not until after an effort in the 1860s to dig large, deep ditches was the land able to be drained and fully settled.  Wood County alone gouged out 140 channels totaling 495 miles.

We were reminded of this history as we entered the county through the village of Bloomdale, along Ohio Route 18.  It was raining, as it had been for much of the previous two weeks, and the soggy countryside couldn’t absorb any more water.  Pools of standing water were abundant throughout the fields.  

To follow the state route, we turned west onto Mulberry Street and drove past sodden tillage to the village of Bairdstown.  The combined populations of the neighboring B-burghs top out at about 800.  They were both stops on the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad when tracks for that line were laid through the county in 1874.  It seemed fitting, then, that after turning north onto Bairdstown Road, we had to wait on a train as it rumbled through town.

A deep ditch paralleled the road as we followed a dogleg route to Cygnet Road and into the community of the same name.  Cygnet is representative of another important period in Wood County history.  The first giant oil and gas deposit discovered in North America was the Lima-Indiana Field.  Its most productive portions in Ohio occurred in Wood and (neighboring) Hancock Counties.  From 1895 to 1903, Ohio was the leading oil producer in the United States.  Boomtowns shot up as oil derricks filled the landscape like some sort of mutant metal mastodons.  Cygnet was one of those towns.  At its peak, it was home to around 3,000 people.  By the turn of the century, though, the fields were becoming depleted. When vast oil reserves were discovered in Texas in 1901, the wildcats headed south.  Cygnet’s population today is about 550.

We passed through the quiet little town and then over the busy I-75 freeway before turning north onto Ohio Route 25, also known as the Dixie Highway.  Inspired by the Lincoln Highway, which ran east and west across the United States, the Dixie Highway was a network of specifically “automobile” routes, constructed and expanded from 1915 to 1929, that connected the Midwest with the South.  For our purposes, it connected us with breakfast. 

Located squarely in the center of Wood County, Bowling Green is the seat of government.  South of its center sits Kermit’s Family Restaurant, a small diner that’s easy to miss, as we discovered, due to a tree limb blocking its sign, but a quick trip around the block remedied the situation.  It’s a pretty unassuming site from the outside, but across its threshold, one finds a clean and compact eatery with cheerful staff and delicious food.

Other restaurants had long operated out of the building before Jim and Barbara Maas took possession in 1987 and renamed it for a Maas family grandfather.  After 37 years, ownership transferred to Katie Ladd, a long-time employee and daughter of Jim’s cousin.

Only about half the dozen or so tables were occupied when we slid into a vacant booth, but the others were soon filled as late breakfast turned to early lunch.  Michele ordered a traditional eggs-bacon-potatoes-toast breakfast while I was intrigued by the specialty Tandoori Breakfast Sandwich.  My option included the standard two eggs, cheese, sautéed green pepper, onion, and choice of meat (bacon!), but also topped with “Kermit’s zesty sauce” and served on a folded piece of naan.  It was just different enough to make it notable.  We so enjoyed our food and dining experience that Michele commended Kermit’s with the praise, “We would eat here all the time if we lived here!”

Thus gastronomically fortified, we began our BG sightseeing a few blocks away at the Wood County Courthouse.  Designed by Columbus architects Yost & Packard in the Richardsonian Romanesque style and constructed in the waning years of the 19th century, Wood County’s contribution to courthouse architecture was a grand statement.  It didn’t hurt that they had all that sweet, sweet oil money rolling in.  The 185-foot clock tower grabs your attention first, but decorative arches and detailed stonework provide additional wow-factors.  There be dragons, faces, and other fanciful adornments sprinkled about the façade.

The interior wonderments include beautifully polished marble stairways, a second floor carved fountain in the manner of Louis XIV, stained-glass ceiling panels in the atrium, and detailed bronze doorknobs.  There are also two large murals representing important aspects of the county’s history: Fort Meigs and oil wells.

To gain access to the interior, we had to pass through a couple levels of security.  We both made it through the metal detector without a problem, but then the deputy sheriff stopped Michele to tell her she’d have to zip up her jacket in order to cover her shirt.  It took me a moment to realize she had committed the unpardonable sin of wearing her University of Toledo T-shirt into the home county of Mid-American Conference rival Bowling Green State University.  That bordered on criminal in the eyes of local law enforcement. 

Fortunately, the deputy quickly traded hats from fashion police to tourist guide.  He proudly pointed out the building’s highlights and gave us a takeaway brochure regarding its history.  I viewed his friendly gesture as an important first step toward BG-UT détente.

It was still spitting down rain when we emerged from the courthouse, so our itinerary was funneled toward other indoor venues.  We drove southeast to the Wood County Museum, located just outside the city limits on County Home Road.  Local history museums can be a crapshoot.  Sometimes they’re nothing more than a collection of rusty farm implements and unidentified photographs that have been transferred from the attics and barns of elderly residents.  The Wood County Museum is NOT of this ilk.

It’s located in the former Wood County Infirmary, also known as the County Home, and in earlier times, as the Poor House.  The main building was constructed in 1868 and served as an early social services safety net.  Each of Ohio’s counties established one to aid the “worthy poor,” those who, through misfortune or mismanagement, couldn’t care for themselves.  This usually consisted of the elderly and sick.  The Home closed in 1971 as more modern forms of social services took over.  Four years later, the Wood County Museum opened in its place.  Its main exhibit, which stretches through multiple rooms, tells the history of this manner of public charity.

Another exhibit on display during our visit was “Allure & Illusion: A Rose Colored Romance.”  In conjunction with Bowling Green State University Browne Popular Culture Library, it featured a collection of wedding dresses worn by local community members throughout the past century, as well as cover art from Harlequin Romance novels.

Another permanent exhibit, and perhaps the most popular, is “The Mary and Carl Bach Story.”  In 1881, an abusive local farmer used a homemade knife to murder his wife in a horrific event that involved the severing of three of her fingers.  Carl was convicted for his crime and hanged on the courthouse steps on the final day of the Wood County Fair in 1883.  A collection of artifacts from the case including the knife, the noose used in the hanging, and Mary’s severed fingers preserved in a jar of whiskey, was kept in the sheriff’s office for many years before going on display at the county courthouse.  It had been a popular, yet disturbingly grotesque public attraction for over a century, even before being transferred to the Wood County Museum in the 1980s.

As a card-carrying member of the Sourtoe Cocktail Club (see https://dawsoncity.ca/sourtoe-cocktail-club/), I have my own relationship with severed human body parts, but not all separated digits are created equal.  When body parts are removed as a result of a hideous murder, their subsequent public display can be problematic.  Or should be.  When a sideshow oddity comes at the expense of a real person, especially a victim of domestic abuse, then perhaps we need to take a moment to reevaluate our sense of decency.

That’s what the Wood County Museum did after it removed the exhibit in 2014.  Up until that point, the collection of offbeat items was seen as a sensationalistic spectacle.  When it returned to public display in 2020, it was accompanied by a more complete story of Mary, who was a sister and mother as well as an abused wife and victim of gruesome violence.  The museum partnered with The Cocoon, the county’s comprehensive support agency and advocate for victims and survivors of domestic and sexual abuse, to make visitors aware of available resources.  I thought the museum did an excellent job of using a spectacle as an important opportunity for education and advocacy.

Just a half mile away, around a bend in County Home Road, sits another museum: Snook’s Dream Cars.  Opened in 2002 by father and son, Bill and Jeff Snook, it contains Bill’s extensive collection of classic automobiles and memorabilia. Bill passed away in 2013, but Jeff carries on the cause.  I’m not a car guy and neither Michele nor I were expecting much from this local attraction, but we both came away pleasantly surprised at how much we enjoyed it.  

The entrance to the building is a recreated 1940s era Texaco gas station complete with tall, narrow antique pumps.  Inside, the mementos room is filled with all manner of car collectibles from stick shift knobs and toys to advertising signs and oil cans.  Old Ohio license plates dating back to 1910 ring the walls like crown molding.  There are also collections of antique slot machines and bicycles thrown in for variety.

The large showroom, though, is the heart of the museum.  About twenty cars from the 1930s to the 1970s are on display in all their shiny glory.  I found myself marveling at each one for its aesthetics.  Automobile architecture is an art form all its own.  From the big round headlamps and shield-like grill of a 1933 Ford V8 coupe to the sleek lines of a 1963 two-door convertible Jaguar, each was a beauty to behold.  

As the afternoon waned, we were in need of refreshments, so we returned to the mix of shops and eateries on Main Street in downtown Bowling Green.  Our first stop was Grounds For Thought, a combination coffee shop and bookstore.  With over 250,000 used books, free wifi, and delicious baked goods and drinks, this has been a popular BG hangout since it opened in 1989.  We enjoyed coffees and a cookie while browsing the stacks.

We did some shopping at nearby stores.  In Coyote Beads and Jewelry, we purchased some incense, and at the giftshop, For Keeps, Michele shopped for cards while I amused myself over the quips printed on novelty napkins and coasters.  (Ex. “Auto correct has become my worst enema,” and “Potatoes make French fries, chips, and vodka.  It’s like the other vegetables aren’t even trying.”)

After we finished dropping some more coins into the local economy, we returned to the car and drove north out of town on Ohio Route 25.  The rain had stopped, but the wind had picked up.  We could feel our car buffeted as we passed through wide-open sections of the road.  There were a couple of derelict barns with missing planks and roof sections and I wondered if the damage came from previous gusts.

Eight miles later, we crossed into the corporation limits of Perrysburg, the county’s second biggest city. It’s also home to the Mallard Palace B&B, our lodging for the weekend.  I’d love to recommend all visitors to northwest Ohio stay at the Mallard Palace, but it’s only available to a very exclusive clientele.  Proprietors Kim & Jamie limit their guests to family and friends and since Michele has known them since high school and college, we made the cut.

Not only did our guesthouse earn a four-out-of-four-star rating, but Kim & Jamie welcomed us in the full spirit of a county trip by presenting us with a swag bag of goods produced by Wood County businesses.  We were given a jar of Stadium Salsa from Bowling Green; a pound of Ethiopia West Arsi coffee beans roasted at Actual Coffee and a can of Dei Fratelli pizza sauce, both from Northwood; and a box of Marsha’s Homemade Buckeyes, a bottle of Garlic Expressions vinaigrette, and a bottle of Six Fifths Distillery caramel-flavored vodka, all from Perrysburg.  Upon reevaluation, the Mallard Palace should be awarded FIVE-out-of-four stars!

After a bit of chatting and catching up, the four of us loaded into our car and I drove us southwest out of Perrysburg along Ohio Route 65, also known as West River Road.  After about seven miles of following the contours of the Maumee River, we turned south onto Tontogany Road, a narrow, winding route that leads to the village of the same name.  Here’s where it helps to have locals with you.  I would have pronounced the town as if it were named for the Lone Ranger’s sidekick, but I learned from our friends that the accent is actually on the second syllable as in tahn-TAWG-ah-nee.

The other three in the car had to humor me as I detoured to Centennial Park on the north edge of town to stop at a historical marker that commemorated the homestead of Emanuel and Maria Custer.  The couple lived in the area for about nine years.  While their most famous child George was never a resident there – he lived with his sister in Monroe, Michigan, in order to attend school -- another son, Tom, lived there for two years.  Tom was a two-time recipient of the Medal of Honor for bravery during the American Civil War, and was killed along with his brother at the Battle of the Little Big Horn (also known as the Battle of the Greasy Grass).

Tontogany is a pretty little village of only a few hundred residents.  From the park, we drove down Crawford Street, as narrow as most alleys, to reach Main Street and Doc’s Rib Cage.  With its stone veneer and block glass windows, you might think it was just a small-town bar.  While it is that, Doc’s is ALSO a prime BBQ restaurant.  It was doing a lively Friday night business when we arrived and we felt lucky to nab a table for four.  Our waitress was being run ragged by a large party in a neighboring room, but she kept her cool and her sense of humor which earned our patience.

The food was worth the wait.  We all ordered ribs which were served with a tasty sweet house BBQ sauce.  The meat was so tender, it slid off the bone.  Michele & I also shared delicious side dishes of baked beans, waffle fries, broccoli, and a white cheddar mac & cheese.  A pint of Cool Fool, an American IPA from Juniper Brewing Co. in Bowling Green, provided a pleasant hoppiness to the meal.

The sun had set by the time we emerged from Doc’s, but the evening wasn’t over.  We drove west on Kellogg Road for about five and a half miles leading us back to River Road and then into Grand Rapids.  Tucked up inside the northwest corner of the county, the village is home to Wild Side Brewing, a nano brewery founded in 2017 with a focus on barrel aged beer.  The four of us plopped down at a table and broke out a deck of cards.  Guitarist and singer Shane Piasecki provided live entertainment as we whiled away some time over games of euchre.   Michele had a glass of their Sangria while I tried the Micro Aggression, a 7% hazy IPA which I found to my liking.  If I had one complaint though, it was the size of the pour.  The beer came in a cute stemless wine glass that probably held about 10 oz., but still cost the usual pint-size price.  Not cool, man.  Otherwise, we enjoyed Wild Side and stayed till closing at 10 pm.

The sidewalks get rolled up early in Grand Rapids.  When we returned to our car, the main business strip of Front Street was deserted.  Our drive back to Perrysburg was along a very dark River Road.  We rarely passed another car.

After a blissful sleep at the Mallard Palace and a late wake-up call, we emerged into a much drier and sunnier day.  We hosted our hosts for breakfast at the Lamplight Café & Bakery, a downtown Perrysburg restaurant that’s been feeding morning people for over thirty years.  I opted for one of its signature entrees, the Lamplighter Special.  It came with scrambled eggs, potato balls (Oh, those poor castrated spuds…), toast, and pulled bacon.  I’d not ever had that last-named item, but knew I couldn’t go wrong with anything with “bacon” in its name.  It turned out to be a slightly chewier version of its normal strip form, long-brined and slow-braised to melt most of the fat, making it leaner…and quite tasty!

Less than a mile from the restaurant, on Sandusky Street, sits the triangular-shaped Milestone Park.  This postage stamp-size green space is home to a limestone marker placed there in 1842 when the passing road was known as the Maumee and Western Reserve Turnpike.  It was one of the first roads constructed through the Great Black Swamp, first with logs in 1827, and then with gravel in 1838.  The marker informed travelers how many miles they had left to get to “P” for Perrysburg or “L.S.” for Lower Sandusky, the former name of Fremont, about 30 miles away.  (By the way, fun fact: The former Maumee and Western Reserve Turnpike is now a section of today’s U.S. Route 20, the longest road in the country running 3,365 miles between Boston, Massachusetts, and Newport, Oregon.)

On the west side of Perrysburg, our history lesson continued at the Fort Meigs Historic Site.  At that location in 1813, a large United States fort was constructed under the command of General William Henry Harrison.  It played an important role in the War of 1812 (1812-1815), and at the time, was the largest wooden walled fortification in North America.  It was twice besieged by the British Army -- supported by a confederacy of Native Americans -- but never fell.

After the war, the fort was abandoned, but subsequent owners preserved the land until selling it to the state in 1907.  The following year, a granite obelisk over 80 feet tall was erected as a memorial.  In the 1960s, the Ohio Historical Society constructed a full-size 10-acre replica of the 1813 fort.  The wooden palisades were replaced between 2000 and 2003 in a $6.2 million renovation project that included a new Museum and Education Center.

We began our visit with a swing through the museum, which I felt did an excellent job of putting the War of 1812 in context from the perspectives of the various combatants.  A seemingly bored docent dressed in period military costume was almost begging for someone to ask him a question, but the exhibits were informative enough.

We then headed outdoors to the fort.  There were artillery batteries and ramparts to investigate. The ground was still soggy in spots and we had to detour around some standing water, but I found it difficult to complain after reading what life was like for the original soldiers stationed at the fort.  Interpretive exhibits inside the blockhouses detailed their daily routine which looked to be mind-numbingly boring: wake, drill, eat, work, drill, eat, then work, drill, eat, drill, bed.  Ack!  And perish the thought one should get sick.  If you come down with dysentery today, you’re given antibiotics and an increase in fluids.  An early 19th century sufferer of “flux,” as dysentery was then called, would be bled by cutting a vein, then given a mercury-based laxative!  No, thanks!

This was my second time visiting Fort Meigs and I still found it very interesting.  The War of 1812 isn’t as well known as the Civil War or the World Wars, but with much of it having been fought in and around Ohio, it should be more familiar to Buckeyes.  The Ohio History Connection is doing its part by maintaining Fort Meigs.  Reenvisioning history takes a certain amount of imagination, but it can be just a bit easier when standing behind an antique cannon on a bluff overlooking the Maumee River.

We drove back through Perrysburg to Woodlands Park, one of the city’s largest public green spaces, and traded history for art.  Along with the offerings of an all-inclusive playground, an 18-hole disc golf course, a shelter house, and more, the park was also hosting a temporary 14-piece Outdoor Sculpture Exhibit thanks to Main ART-ery, an arts and entertainment coordination business.

To get to the sculptures, we walked past a group of black-clad martial arts enthusiasts practicing moves on each other.  Most of the artworks were made of steel or aluminum and varied in themes from abstract geometric shapes and a large human-size Pi symbol to a bronze of Mahatma Gandhi and a whimsical representation of blue dogs.  Whether I get the artist’s intention or not is usually beside the point.  I simply enjoy giving my mind a twist every so often by pondering another person’s form of artistic expression.

After leaving the park, we drove southeast on Fremont Pike through the jungle of chain and big box stores and past the city’s boundary to where farmland once again prevailed.  We turned north onto Lime City Road which led us to the Sawyer Quarry Nature Preserve.  As the name implies, the grounds were once worked as a limestone quarry before being abandoned for that purpose in 1932.  The Sawyer family, owners of the property since 1883, donated the 61-acre refuge in 2014 for the purpose of preserving it as a park.  

Three loop trails are available for hiking, but we concentrated on the preserve’s portion that once served as the quarry.  We followed steps leading down into the lower level and wandered around.  It offered a delightful park setting different from the usual woodsy trails.  A couple of cliffs are available for rappelling, but we limited our activity to exploring the various geological formations.  Not all were natural.  A close examination uncovered perfectly formed circular holes that were probably drilled for dynamite placement.  Today, they’ve become homes to small plants.

We left Sawyer Quarry and proceeded south on Lime City Road for about 4 ½ miles before it came to an end at Dowling Road.  That connected us to Ohio Route 199 where we continued south.  After another five miles, where 199 intersects Ohio Route 105, we passed through the unincorporated community of Scotch Ridge. The North Branch of the Portage River normally flows placidly through this area, but thanks to the recent excessive rains, the river had jumped its banks producing a series of ponds where grassy yards once stood.

We continued south, past U.S. Route 6, before turning east onto Holcomb Road.  A half-mile later, agricultural fields gave way to a small woodlot that bounded the pavement on both sides.  The trees form a canopy over the road, but only for a quarter of a mile before the trees give way to more farmland.  That was enough, though. to create “The Legend of Holcomb Road.”  Somewhere in the mists of time, a ghost story emerged in these here parts. As the story goes, a driver with a bus full of children lost control on this road and drove straight into the woods hitting many trees along the way before one final collision.  The driver died instantly, but the children had to wait until the bus burst into flames before they all died fiery deaths.  The story goes that the driver’s face can be seen on the tree into which he crashed, and that at night, headlights appear coming toward you, but disappear once you come upon the tree.  There are also reports of scrambled radio signals and lost cellular service.

I suppose I shouldn’t ruin a good urban legend by pointing out that no news story or hard evidence has ever been produced backing up this story.  There was a documented suicide on this road by a Bowling Green student in 1975, but that unfortunate incident doesn’t seem to play any part in the legend.  There IS a locally produced 2018 movie called “The Legend of Holcomb Road,” so that must mean something, right?!  We didn’t notice any eerie apparitions or hauntings as we drove back and forth on this stretch of road, but then again, we visited during the day and in the spring when the foliage is at its sparsest.  Everyone knows ghosts only come out at night!

After our faux paranormal investigation, we returned to Bowling Green, about 10 miles away, to get our hands around something truthful and real: beer!  We found Arlyn’s Good Beer on Hankey Avenue, just a few residential blocks west of Main Street.  The brewpub is one of BG’s prime third places.  After picking up flights of beer in the taproom, the four of us stationed ourselves at an outdoor picnic table.  I was happy with all four of my flight selections, from the smooth Blonde Ale and malty Helles Bock to the dark Black Lager and subtle Oatmeal Stout.  The afternoon was firing on all cylinders thanks to warm weather, good company, and fine beer.

We stayed at Arlyn’s until it was time to return to Main Street to make our 6:30 p.m. dinner reservation at SamB’s.  The restaurant dates to 1972 when it began as a sub shop.  It has since morphed into a fine-dining eatery.  We were seated at a table next to the front window.  I started with a cup of lobster bisque before moving on to a salmon ravioli entrée.  The latter consisted of a nice-size piece of salmon on top of ravioli stuffed with butternut squash and bathed in a maple bourbon cream sauce.  My food was good.  Not great, but good.  I can’t say my taste buds were wowed, but they weren’t disappointed either.  My meal could be evaluated like that of most mid-level managers: meets expectations.

Returning to Perrysburg, we made a stop for dessert on West South Boundary Street at Mr. Freeze, whose sign proclaims, “Home of our famous Turtle Sundae.”  To say Mr. Freeze is a popular ice cream shop is an extreme understatement.  Sure, it was a summer-like evening, but it was still mid-April and yet the line of people waiting for something cold and sweet to eat zig-zagged at least a half-dozen times in front.  There were four service point windows, so the line moved relatively quickly, but we still had a half-hour wait.  There’s a very wide variety of selections, but I figured I’d go with what they’re known for, so I got a Turtle Sundae, which was soft serve ice cream with pecans.  I ordered the “junior” size which was the smallest, but was given enough ice cream to qualify for a medium order anywhere else.  It was good, but I must say, I couldn’t taste any turtle.

Back at the Mallard Palace, Jamie got a blaze going in their backyard fire pit.  It was a clear and pleasant night.  I enjoyed my ice cream while staring down into the flames.  Michele and Jamie were looking up into the sky where Michele identified the Orion constellation and its bright red star, Betelgeuse, while Jamie pointed out the Big Dipper.

Jamie’s talents range from fireside to stove top.  The following morning, he prepared omelets and Bloody Marys for his guests’ breakfast.  That stepped up the Mallard Palace B&B rating to SIX-out-of-four stars!  (I hope others in the hospitality industry are taking notes!)  After another couple of hours hanging out with our friends/hosts, we finally said our goodbyes and checked out,  however our county trippin’ was not over.

We drove northeast from Perrysburg along East River Road to the neighboring city of Rossford.  Our destination was the local public library.  Now, I’m a huge fan of books and the buildings that house them, but the reason for this particular visit was to see a shoe.  It’s not any ordinary footwear though, it’s a size 37AA that was once worn by Robert Wadlow, the world’s tallest man.  

Wadlow lived from 1918 to 1940 and grew to a height of 8 feet, 11.1 inches.  There have been other claimants to the “world’s tallest man” mantle, but Guiness World Records says Wadlow is the one for whom there is irrefutable evidence.  His size was due to hyperplasia of his pituitary gland, which results in an abnormally high level of human growth hormone.  He may forever hold the record since there is now a surgical procedure that can halt the production of the growth hormone.

In 1938, Wadlow was hired by the International Shoe Company to make a promotional tour of shoe stores.  The company provided him with his own shoes free of charge.  One of his shoes ended up on display in a Rossford department store.  When the store closed, the shoe was given to a former employee whose family eventually passed it along to the library.

We reversed our route and returned to Perrysburg for one last swing through its downtown.  At the marble statue of Commodore Perry, we turned left and followed Ohio Route 199 out of the city limits.   A right turn on Roachton Road and another right on Scheider Road took us to the Islamic Center of Greater Toledo.  We’re used to seeing this large mosque and its two minarets every time we drive by on I-75, but it was nice for once to stop and see it up close.  When it opened in 1983, The New York Times called it the largest traditional style Mosque in North America (although the Islamic Center of America in Dearborn, Michigan usurped that title when it opened in 2005).  Its gold-plated dome, 65 feet in diameter and 30 feet high, is certainly an eye-catcher.  The building is also noted for its stained glass.

The sun was shining, but the wind had once again picked up as we returned to the county seat south along Ohio Route 25.  We turned east onto Poe Road, past the Wood County Regional Airport, and then south onto Mercer Road and onto the campus of Bowling Green State University.  We found the Stroh Center, a multi-purpose arena where the school’s basketball and volleyball games are played.  In front of its entrance is the world’s largest bronze falcon.  The two-ton statue sports a 24-foot-wide wingspan and appears in a downward flight as though it were preparing to pick up a lunch of rodent or small child.

The BGSU mascot hasn’t always been the falcon; only since 1927.  The school opened in 1914 as the Bowling Green State Normal School.  A normal school was an institution where teachers were trained.  Early school nicknames included the “BG Normals” and the “Teachers.”  It’s too bad they changed mascots.  I’m picturing a huge, menacing statue of a Creative Writing professor, her open academic robe flowing behind her, descending on the Stroh Center parking lot with a dripping red pen clutched in each of her talons.  I don’t care what the sport might be, if I saw a team of those opposing me on a field of contest, I’d just forfeit the match.

Oh yeah, and instead of the cutesy alliterative mascot names of Freddie and Frieda Falcon, the school’s sports teams would be represented by “Abby Normal.”

A few blocks from the Stroh Center, on Clough Street, sits one of Bowling Green’s landmark buildings: the Windmill House.  The 45-foot, cobblestone and red-shingled structure, was constructed in 1939 as a Dutch windmill to hide a steam-generated power plant within.  It was later renovated into an apartment.  Unfortunately, the blades were taken down a few years ago, probably for safety reasons and NOT by drunken college students after a big football victory, but if you’d like to start your own urban myth, feel free to spread that story.

We made a quick stop back at the courthouse to take some exterior photographs before returning to South Main Street.  We poked our heads in at Ben’s, a craft store owned and operated by the Craft family since 1976.  It offers a variety of art, party, and office supplies as well as toys, candy, and framing services.  I felt as though I’d stepped back into a variety store from 40 or 50 years ago, and I mean that in a flattering way.

We next entered Novel Blends, an independent bookstore and coffee shop.  We purchased a cappuccino and white mocha latte from the friendly barista and settled into a couple of comfortable chairs with our drinks and a peanut butter bar to snack on.  The place was absolutely empty, which didn’t seem to make any sense after witnessing the popularity of nearby Grounds For Thought just a couple days before.  We then discovered we’d arrived about a half hour after the shop’s posted closing time, yet the barista was kind enough to serve us and allow us to stay while she cleaned up.  What hospitality!  

Feeling sufficiently caffeinated, we left Bowling Green for the final time and drove south on the Dixie Highway to Cygnet Road before continuing south on Rudolph Road into the village of North Baltimore.  It’s another of Wood County’s southern towns that were platted to be stops on the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad, so it seemed apropos that we should be stopped by another train.  We watched as the country’s economy rolled by at 40-50 miles per hour.  Quite a few of the shipping containers were emblazoned with the Amazon Prime logo.

When the last of them finally passed and the crossing arms went up, we trundled over the tracks and drove the remaining half-mile out of town.  Turning south onto North Baltimore Road, which runs through the 18-hole course of the Birch Run Golf Club, we exited the county.

Time spent in the county: 53 hours, 45 minutes

Miles driven in the county: 191