More Than We Hoped For--TRIP 3

"That girl's all by herself from South Dakota," said Andy, as we climbed the hill back to Little Red.
"With her dog?" I asked, catching up to him at the car.
"Yup," he answered. "Travels with Charley!"
 We had just walked two trails in the early morning, and the sun disappeared intermittently as clouds billowed in.
The first trail at Great Falls led along the deep gorge to an invisible ravine tucked beneath us. "You can't see Great Falls from this side," determined Andy. We could hear the water dropping though, and a train whistled below us as it followed the river.

Not much water feeds Bridal Veil Falls
as it tumbles among oak leaves.

Bridal Veil Falls trickled down among the fall leaves. The path in was a thick carpet of brown oak leaves, and the banks of the stream were buried in a brown blanket.
By the time we got to Tinkers Creek, the western storm moved in, and billowing grey clouds told of rain and snow on the way. That road, as well as many others, were closed to through traffic. "They must have had a lot of flooding earlier last spring," said Andy. Forecasters promised a 30-degree drop today, and when this front hits Hurricane Sandy coming in from the East Coast, the collision could produce a foot of snow. Not just yet. Not here. We continued along the Parkway, hoping to make the most of our last few rain-free hours.
The stern end of a canal boat is on exhibit at the old Boston Store Visitor Center. The restored 1836 building on the Ohio and Erie Canal Towpath at Boston Mills Road in the old town of Boston shows visitors how canal boats were constructed. Three main types were built here: passenger and freight to transport people and goods and stateroom to entertain rich tourists. The Boston Store sold every sort of goods to supply the needs of those who lived and worked on or near the Canal.
Built in 1836, the store was called the Boston Land and Manufacturing Company store. The unusual trapezoidal shape of the building results from the north and east walls paralleling the town's important transportation routes--Boston Mills Road and the Ohio and Erie Canal.  From 1836 to 1904, the building was a store and post office, specializing in Clothing, Flour and Feed, according to a business directory of 1881-1882.  In 1905, it became a private residence until it was purchased by the National Park Service in 1980.

Lock #29 still shows carving marks of identification on
some of the stone blocks. 

At Lock #29 by the old mill we could feel the temperature drop.  Here in Peninsula Depot, now a welcome center for the park, the Cuyahoga Valley Scenic Railroad crossed the Ohio and Erie Canalway. It must have been a busy intersection in its day. Today it was quiet.
Lock #29, one of the best preserved locks of the entire canal system, was dry, but the skillfully and carefully cut and fitted sandstone blocks have stayed in place for nearly a century. The lock is part of an aqueduct system that carried canal boats over the Cuyahoga River. Foundation blocks still bear the Roman numerals of different crews that competed to cut and shape the stones from the quarry.
At the bend in the river early residents built a grist mill in 1832, that used water power to grind wheat into flour. The Canal offered easy and efficient transport of flour to market. The mill had two owners before Charles Thomas and Chandler Moody bought it in 1885, and replaced, enlarged and renamed it in 1902. On December 26, 1931, the Moody and Thomas Milling Company burned to the ground.
Nearby at Deep Lock Quarry, original site of the sandstone mining operation to build the locks, was a 1.2-mile trail from the parking area. Here crews cut, shaped and marked the huge sandstone blocks that formed the Canal and locks. We passed Lock #28 as we climbed the marked trail. "It's amazing they did that with horse-drawn wagons," said Andy.

A sandstone marker
identifies the trail to
the Lock quarry.

I read that crews marked blocks with Roman numerals here to identify their work. One large block with a triangle circumscribing a T for trail had been positioned near the entrance to the quarry.
"It's going to rain before 4:00 p.m.," said Andy, as we hiked back out.
A train whizzed by pulling passenger cars. It certainly wasn't a slow-moving "scenic railroad." Two blasts of the whistle and about 15 cars raced past the crossing.  We decided later that maybe it actually was the scenic train trip advertised around town.
At Szalay's Farm people shopped for pumpkins, gourds, corn stalks and Halloween decorations. "He could be even more expensive than Didier Farms," said Andy, fingering a giant pumpkin marked $20.00. We looked at the fruit spread, the maple syrup and the fresh apples. It's such a shame we didn't really need any.

No one except the hardy visit Everett Covered Bridge on a
day when misty rain threatened and the wind picked up.
 

Everett Covered Bridge parking lot was empty except for two horse trailers. With loud shouts at the balking animals, a man and woman loaded horses. We walked to the bridge; they were gone when we returned. But by then a very slight mist filled the air.
Exact time of construction of this bridge is unknown, but it was patterned after the 1869 Smith Truss design, and bridges like it were common in 19th century Ohio. In fact, Ohio led the nation with more than 2000 covered bridges in the 1800's, with the first one built in 1809.  Today, Everett Bridge is the only remaining covered bridge in Summit County. Besides the aesthetic value, the roof and sides protected the hard-to-replace wood bridge floor. Few were constructed after the 1880's when popularity faded with the production of more durable iron.
An exhibit by the covered bridge summarized the history of the development of the park system in the Ohio and Erie Canal land between Cleveland and Akron. It had been saved due to the initial conservation efforts of John F. Seiberling, grandson of the founder of Goodyear Tire and Rubber Company, who helped establish the Akron Metropolitan Park District.
Seiberling wrote, "We will never see the land as our ancestors did. But we can understand what made it beautiful and why they lived and died to preserve it. And in preserving it for future generations, we will preserve something of ourselves... There is no more worthwhile cause."
He believed that people who live in an urban environment need open space to maintain their relationship with the earth.

Ledge Trail circles the uplifted sandstone ledges for more
than two miles in Cuyahoga Valley National Park.

Born in 1918, Seiberling grew up on the edge of the Cuyahoga Valley at Stan Hywet Hall with father and grandfather as role models. The post World War II suburban growth concerned him, especially in the early 1960's when it threatened the pastoral character of the region. The Valley needed a champion, and Seiberling took up the cause with individual projects as a citizen dedicated to community and then as a member of a regional planning commission. Seeking an alternative to prevent development forever, he began to advocate a bigger plan--the creation of Cuyahoga Valley Park. He mustered support at all levels from citizenry to government and encouraged park studies. Elected to U.S. Congress in 1970, he introduced legislation to create a national park. But Congress ignored the first bill, claiming there was not enough community interest.  The defeat only energized Seiberling to organize more vocal support. In 1974, Congress easily passed his new bill. President Gerald Ford signed it into law after Seiberling mobilized Ohio political leaders, especially Congressman Ralph Regula, to convince him of the park idea's popularity. Today it extends over many miles with many different Cuyahoga Valley sites.

Nooks and crannies
abound in the sandstone
fracture zones.

"The Ledges Trail is supposed to be the nicest area in the park," said Andy.

Every turn brings
different views
of the sandstone ledges.

Although the barn looks deserted,
the Botzum house evidently had
tenants and an adjoining barn
housed party facilities.

Uplifted sandstone ridges form a scenic, ragged mountain a mile long. Surrounded by oak and beech forest, the uplift offers scenic hiking at every turn and bend. On a nice day, it must be a gorgeous hike in the woods. Instead, we took it at near jog pace.  We followed Ledges Trail for two miles in and around Overlook. Ice Box Cave, closed to protect the bat population from white nose syndrome, hid thousands of nooks and sandstone crannies that could have been fun to explore. No time for us, but we were lucky. We finished the trail before the rain set in.

As we round the bend just
before the rain sets in Little Red waits for us.

Across the towpath and the railroad tracks was the Conrad Botzum Homestead. We poked around the old barn. It looked like someone lived in the house, so we left well enough alone. Grey settled in. By 3:15 p.m. we were pushing our luck with the rain... NO RAIN YET!"I think that's about it for today," said Andy, but we had seen way more than he actually anticipated, and we hadn't gotten wet either.