Atlas Detoura

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.

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.