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| We Got No Roots |
Our first family trip in 2018 was going to be different, somehow.
We thrive on diversity. Sort of. I mean, it wasn't going to be
drastically different. We weren't going to jet off to Europe. We
haven't won the lottery since our last post. Besides, all of our
travels seem follow a similar pattern, anyways. We plan to go
somewhere. We go somewhere. We look at some stuff. We are amazed. We
bicker. We fight. We see something that astonishes us. Inspires us.
Then, the fighting leads to screaming. And then we have epic melt downs in
front of important American landmarks. We are the Woodmans, after
all (see blog title). No matter where we are or where we go, it's
always us. So, that should be all the more reason for us to spice
things up this time around. But, how? Our answer came to us when a
well-traveled friend introduced us to the website
Atlas
Obscura. It's basically a guide to the curious
and unique places around the world. Places one normally wouldn't know
about. Off the beaten path. Quirky. Fun. Different. And with over
13,000 places listed globally, it seemed like a perfect place to start.
Just two hours down the road from St. Louis, sits Casey, Illinois, a
quintessential small town in rural middle America. Unassuming at
first glance, it appears typical, complete with a charming downtown
that hearkens of a time gone by. But there are some big differences in
Casey. And by big, I mean world record big. Eight Guinness world
records, to be accurate. Casey is the home to 8 of the world's
largest things.
Specifically, the world's largest:
- Mailbox
- Wooden Shoes
- Rocking Chair
- Wind Chime
- Pitchfork
- Knitting Needles
- Crochet Hook
- Golf Tee
In addition, they have other comically oversized items that aren’t
quite records. There they sit, near the center of town, as if a giant
came through one day and just dropped off some of his stuff. We
explored. We climbed. We gawked. We even mailed ourselves a postcard
from inside a mailbox that was bigger than our first house. A huge
start to our trip.
Our next stop through the weird and wonderful U.S. took us to
another small town. This time it was Springfield, Ohio, just west of
Columbus. Here, during the Great Depression, a man named Ben Hartman
crafted an elaborate art piece in his own backyard.
Using hundreds of
thousands of stones, he lovingly and carefully built over fifty
different structures. The end result, a unique and entertaining
garden, was a labor of love for the unemployed Hartman. Following his
death, his wife and then eventually an art preservation society, kept
this garden open to the public. Now, 80 years later, it remains a
glimpse in to one man's unique vision. The girls loved the tiny
details and variety of his pieces. Castles. Cacti. The White House.
Noah's Ark. All unique, and weird, and fun.
“I want to build one of those when we get home.” announced
Norah.
I'm totally on board with that.
Following that stop, we left the small towns behind, and headed
for a larger metropolitan area. In the heart of Columbus, Ohio sits a
super cool topiary park. Using the famous painting
'A Sunday
Afternoon on the Isle of La Grande Jatte' as inspiration, a
sculptor has shaped the topiary in this urban park to match the work
by George Seurat. Dozens of bushes, artfully shaped into people,
animals, and even boats dot the scenery here. It's a landscape of a
painting of a landscape. All accurately and meticulously fashioned.
The extra round curves of a woman. The crouching of a dog. A rowboat
crew paddling across the lake. It was playful. Fun. We immersed
ourselves into a living piece of art, did some cartwheels, sniffed some dog butts, and hit
the road.
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| Smells like Fine Art |
Following an overnight hotel stay, we got back it,
and landed in our last stop: Wheeling, West Virginia. A quaint river
town nestled in the mountains on the tip of West Virginia was the
destination for our next find. But, we were no longer content with
just viewing the unique things our country has to offer. Now, we were
looking to put some in our bellies.
The lower Ohio Valley is known for its local style
of pizza that is different than just about anywhere else. A hot
crispy and flaky crust. Baked on delicious red sauce. And then served
with mounds of cold provolone on top. That's right. Cold cheese.
Mounds of it. This style was developed at DiCarlo's Original Pizza
shortly after WWII and the locals swear by it. We were intrigued. And
by intrigued, I mean hesitant.
“What if it's gross?” the kids pleaded.
“Well, then I guess we'll all have a gross lunch”
I assured them.
We arrived right as they opened, and 15 minutes
later the place was full. Clearly the pizza is a hit. Our large pie
arrived, and we dug in. It was... amazing. Everyone concurred. One of
the best and most unique pizza experiences we've ever had. A great
final stop on our detour through the weird.
Next up, our final destination.
Washington D.C.
In addition, they have other comically oversized items that aren’t
quite records. There they sit, near the center of town, as if a giant
came through one day and just dropped off some of his stuff. We
explored. We climbed. We gawked. We even mailed ourselves a postcard
from inside a mailbox that was bigger than our first house. A huge
start to our trip.
Our next stop through the weird and wonderful U.S. took us to
another small town. This time it was Springfield, Ohio, just west of
Columbus. Here, during the Great Depression, a man named Ben Hartman
crafted an elaborate art piece in his own backyard. 
Following that stop, we left the small towns behind, and headed
for a larger metropolitan area. In the heart of Columbus, Ohio sits a
super cool topiary park. Using the famous painting 'A Sunday
Afternoon on the Isle of La Grande Jatte' as inspiration, a
sculptor has shaped the topiary in this urban park to match the work
by George Seurat. Dozens of bushes, artfully shaped into people,
animals, and even boats dot the scenery here. It's a landscape of a
painting of a landscape. All accurately and meticulously fashioned.
The extra round curves of a woman. The crouching of a dog. A rowboat
crew paddling across the lake. It was playful. Fun. We immersed
ourselves into a living piece of art, did some cartwheels, sniffed some dog butts, and hit
the road.
We arrived right as they opened, and 15 minutes
later the place was full. Clearly the pizza is a hit. Our large pie
arrived, and we dug in. It was... amazing. Everyone concurred. One of
the best and most unique pizza experiences we've ever had. A great
final stop on our detour through the weird.
We had crossed a
raging stream, and now were ready to take on something bigger. Up
next, a rafting trip down the Kenai River. With my brother-in-law
piloting the 6 person craft, we floated down the swift moving, but wide
river. We stopped along the way to fish for salmon from the
shoreline. Minutes turned to hours as the river rushed by. We fished. We sat. We had a fire. The incredibly long twilight allowed us to stay out into the
night. By the time we floated out, it was finally dark. 
We had lots of hopes of things we wanted to do while in Alaska. Swimming, outside, was nowhere on that list. Yet, somehow we managed to get that done too. While up north, on our second weekend, it reached in to the 80s. My sister said it was the warmest she had even seen it since she lived there. It was sunny and clear. We were in the right place to check out one of the 3 bazillion lakes in Alaska. And, as a bonus, it was totally warm enough for the kids to swim. So swim they did. We hiked. They swam. We soaked in the sun. They swam. It was bliss for everyone.
This
is the one that surprised us the most. Alaska is really green. Plants are abundant. Not just pine trees, either. Tons of plants. Of
all kinds. Everywhere. I suppose we are just used to mountain areas being more dry, less lush. But, Alaska is different.
We still hadn't seen the typical coastal area one thinks of, until we made it all the way down the peninsula to the town of Seward.
Following our late night floating on the Kenai River, we drove to the
sea town and spent the night in the marina, inside the
Driver's sailboat. 
