Showing posts with label Cincinnati. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cincinnati. Show all posts

Sunday, June 19, 2011

Not getting murdered in Mansfield

After a great time in Cleveland Saturday night, it was not easy to leave. The traffic was fine, the road signs were reasonably marked. But we were having a lot of fun. Being with some good, old friends who I hadn't seen in years — and knew their way around the city (except where to get a beer before the game).

But we had a schedule to keep. We planned this trip out months ago. And part of the plan was to drive a little more than an hour southeast from Cleveland — a little more than halfway to Columbus — after the game. This would leave us within three hours of Cincinnati for the 1:10 start to today's game against the Blue Jays. So on we went along Interstate 71.

When we told the Ohio Nicks at the game that we're staying in the Econo Lodge in Mansfield that night, one of them asked if we like bedbugs. The other one said, "They're from New York. They're probably used to bedbugs."

We made the Econo Lodge reservation over a month ago because it was cheap. We planned, like we did before getting to Scranton, to scan the Internet for some last-minute deals. This led us to that lovely Best Western (Plus!). Well the Econo Lodge is on to this game. We didn't read the fine print. Those crafty titans of mediocrity said we had to cancel our reservation by two days ago. Every other hotel we booked allowed same-day cancellations.

I must say we were pleasantly surprised — surprised at how it took three men to drive over 600 miles from New York City to be scared for their lives.

The following review posted by Staysurgar of Long Beach, Calif., on TripAdvisor.com, which we found on our way down I-71, was the most accurate of them all:

I hardly know where to start complaining about the hotel. I have been using Expedia often for years and never expected to book a hotel like that Econo Lodge. It had none, none I repeat, of the amenities listed, not even a clock.

We can confirm this. There was no clock in our room either, Staysugar. There was, however, a rather round stain that appeared to capable of becoming a sun dial. Of course we arrived at about 1 a.m.

It was filthy, and as a woman traveling alone I really feared for my safety there.

As three men traveling together, we too feared for our safety. As we drove under the highway overpass and through some tall grass along a gravel road and a couple boarded up buildings, Brian said: "This could be the place where we all get murdered."


I ... was so furious about getting stuck there I called Choice Hotels at 8 pm soon after I arrived to tell them the place is shockingly bad. The restaurant is boarded up, dilapidated, the pool is filled with concrete with weeds growing out of it.

We inspected the pool (That's the daylight picture above) — or "wildflower garden" — which was across the side parking lot from our room. It seemed like an odd place to store a snowplow (it's the brown thing on the other side of the "garden"). So I guess the truck drives across the "garden" to attach it. Or is left over from the nearby, boarded up "spa's" yard sale?

No other businesses in sight of the desolate hotel - except for the boarded up, bright green Rainbo Spa next door and the Gentlemen's Club half a mile away! 
This was unbelievable.

Staysugar might be slightly relieved to hear there is now a fireworks store. It's across the desolate field from the gentleman's club. There was only one car in the club's parking lot. The neon sign was flashing "Open." We wondered if that car belonged to the dancer inside or some really disappointed customer.

If I hadn't driven a UHAUL by myself for 350 miles that day I would have kept going. 


After reading your review, Staysugar, and several other similar posts we started calling hotels from Mansfield Columbus to see if we could find something else worth it. It's amazing what these hotels wanted to charge us for finding a place to sleep for seven hours. We decided our lives weren't worth another $110 for a room at the Holiday Inn Express closer to Columbus.

The shower curtain was ripped, as were the lamp shades. The carpet in the hall was filthy and frayed, the room's 2 chairs had huge, disgusting stains on them.. 
I even took pictures - my favorite is of the back of the door of my 2nd room where the room rates/safety info should be - there was only a black sticker with a skull and crossbones on it. Yikes - beware is right! 


Our room was not as bad as this. But the skull-and-crossbones was assumed.

• • •

We survived the night. No one seems to be itching. And we stopped at a Bob Evans just outside Columbus. Nick and Brian tried one of my dad's favorite culinary creations: Bob Evans' sausage gravy. I love most things that Bob Evans cooks. I would be willing to attempt to live off their biscuits. But the sausage gravy is something I've never wanted to try. Nick said: "I couldn't go to a Bob Evans and not try the sausage gravy." I said: "I've been going to Bob Evans since I was a kid and have never tried the sausage gravy."

But my dad would be proud – of them. And it is Father's Day.

But the Big Breakfast was everything I remember. At the game last night, an Ohio Nick reminded me of one late night that turned into morning at Ohio University, a group of us tricked a kid with a car into thinking he had to drive someone to the hospital at 6 a.m. so we could go to Bob Evans. The walk back to the dorms was well worth it.

We're less than 60 miles outside Cincinnati. First time back since 2002. It's raining.

Saturday, June 18, 2011

Oh hi oh

32 MILES FROM OHIO BORDER, Pa. — Next time you're in DuBois, Pa., check out Julio's Tavern on S. Jared St. They offer both Mr. Pibb on fountain and Labatt Blue on tap. Plus the food was good, inexpensive and inexpensive. They were setting up for a backyard barbecue later this afternoon. But by the time they are cooking, we'll be in the Cleveland suburbs.

We're meeting up with a friend of mine from my Ohio University day. Picking him up at his house and then heading to downtown Cleveland. I haven't been to Cleveland since around 1983. I was 5. I came home to Cincinnati with a new Atari. The bar is set high, Cleveland.

Here's the patriotic, nondescript building across from Julio's in DuBois.

The Reds just sent me an email thanking me for buying tickets to tomorrow's game against the Blue Jays. It included directions to the game, info about Great American Ball Park and pitching match-ups. Bronson Arroyo is pitching for the Reds. The last three times I've seen the Reds play — at Shea Stadium, Wrigley Field and Citi Field — I've seen Bronson pitch. Hoping for Goodroyo. He can be fun to watch. How could you not like seeing those flowing blonde locks and leg kick? I wonder if his mother was a Rockette.

Hello, former home state.

Friday, June 17, 2011

Who scheduled this trip?

We should have left days ago. I know this now. And we are still waiting on Nick. (Are you reading this or are you finishing your work?)

We'll be in Cincinnati on Sunday morning. I haven't been there since 2002 — the last year the Reds played in Riverfront. I can't wait to finally check out Great American Ball Park, which I have only seen on the TV and the Internet. My youngest brother, Dylan, and I had a great time when we made the trip out there to say good-bye to that grand stadium of symmetry that I spent so many wonderful, muggy days and nights at during the 1980s.

Dylan was born in Cincinnati but we moved to Connecticut when he was 3. I really wanted him to see a game in that glorious, albeit ugly, stadium that used to be home to Rose, Perez, Bench, Davis, Larkin, Rijo, Browning and Schottzie, former owner Marge Schott's Saint Bernard. The Astro-turf was gone but the smell was the same. The Reds lost both games to the Astros that August. But Dylan came home a winner. When he arrived he declined to have a Skyline coney. Instead, he got a coney — hold the Cincinnati chili. All that is is a hot dog, cheese and bun. For a native of Cincy to decline a coney is just weird. Of course the out-of-towners tend to think Cincinnati chili is weird: You either put chili and cheese on a hotdog or chili and cheese on spaghetti. But, unless you are the Mets TV play-by-play man Gary Cohn, you will find it to be one of the most miraculous culinary creations in America.

Well, I know Dylan has regretted that decision ever since the next day when I took him to our family's former Skyline haunt in Montgomery. After he had his first real coney, we ate Skyline for every meal but one breakfast at Perkins the rest of the weekend.

I now have what must be a similar feeling to what Dylan felt after he realized what he turned down our first night back in town nearly 10 years ago: We missed the coney eating contest in Fountain Square.

We'll have to make up for that, Nick.

Setting sail for Scranton, Cleveland, Cincinnati, Pittsburgh...

It started a few years ago when, on a Friday night whim. Three of us decided to go check out Citizens Bank Park in Philadelphia. The Phillies were hosting the Reds that weekend. I have been a Reds fan since Eric Davis was in their farm system. But have lived on the East Coast — with many Yankee-fan friends — since the winter before Lou Piniella, Jose Rijo, Barry Larkin, Billy Hatcher and the Nasty Boys brought the World Series trophy back to the Queen City.

We left southwestern Connecticut early that summer Saturday morning, calling hotels on the way, until we found a good deal in downtown Philadelphia. We bought tickets off scalpers. Decent seats in the upper deck between home plate and third base. I found another former Cincinnatian in the stands. After pointing out my Reds hat to me, I was expecting a stereotypical Philly statement from him. Instead he told me of living in Cincinnati during the days of the Big Red Machine. He was wearing a Phillies hat. He said: "I'm cheering for the Phillies today but rooting for Reds."

Now, more than a few years later, Brian, Nick and myself are finally following through on our much talked-about baseball road trip. It is Friday, June 17, a little after noon as I write this in Brian's apartment in the Riverdale neighborhood of the Bronx, N.Y. Brian and I are awaiting Nick's arrival via Metro-North Railroad, before we head for the Tapanzee Bridge and Scranton/Wilkes-Barre, where we kick off the four-city, six-game tour with some AAA ball. The SWB Yankees are hosting the Indian's AAA squad, the Columbus Clippers, tonight.

On Saturday, we'll be heading to Cleveland for the Indians-Pirates game. Sunday we head to my former hometown, Cincinnati, where the Blue Jays will be (and I have not been since the last season the Reds played in Riverfront Stadium. We stay in Cincinnati for the Yankees' arrival on Monday — the game we planned this trip around. On Tuesday, we'll be headed to Pittsburgh for a couple games between the Pirates and Orioles.

Tickets are in hand, hotels are booked, maps are Google'd. Reservations for the Montgomery Inn Boathouse in Cincinnati are made. We just need Nick. I hope he's finishing his office work and not reading this.

I hope to keep this blog going through the trip to share the experiences and keep the memories.