Playing tourist in Columbus

Thunderstorms over the OSU Airport

Through dozens of trips, my Columbus traditions became set in stone. Almost every trip includes a pie from Tommy’s Pizza. With its cracker-thin crust and the Columbus cut on the pizza, it’s hard to beat. After a day on the road, I don’t mind something low-key, drinking beers and catching up. The truck-heavy route between Nashville and Columbus wears on me now that I’ve done the drive somewhere near 50 times.

Bluebird in the prairie grasses

Some traditions change. I lost my pastry connection in Middle Tennessee – long story, not for sharing. For the first time in many years, I did not return with any delights from the Mozart’s bakery case. No matter how much I mix up the rest of the trip, I cannot skip Mozart's. I made some small talk with the owner and had a great breakfast. For every other breakfast, I made obligatory stops at Tim Horton’s.

This time, the trip played out differently. Once back from a sojourn to the Hopewell mounds in Chillicothe, a first-time side trip - I fell onto a new trajectory, bound for Columbus institution I had never visited.

While waiting to meet my old friend/SNP colleague Dennis, I puttered around the Georgesville area on the West Side, looking at odd restaurants. Even far from OSU, I ran into signs that drew immediate curiosity. At some point I must visit the Peruvian place I spotted down there. The sign was innocuous, as if it had always been there and belonged in the stretch of suburban strip mall development.

In moments, the joy of discovery renewed me. After a quick lunch, I found myself exploring the West Side. As the development waned and farmland took over, I was drawn to Battelle Big Darby Metropark. The park covers 7,000 acres and 14 miles along Big Darby and Little Darby creeks, also protected as state and national scenic rivers.

Living stream

On a sunny Friday broken by scattered showers, few people plied the trails of the metro park. Through the expansive nature center flows a living stream stocked with the same fauna that live in the Darby watershed. On cue, turtles slide off branches and rocks to hide in submerged niches. A live-stream monitors the park’s bison herd as they graze and roam.

I started on the empty trails to see if I could spot them. It didn't take long. When reached the bison herd along the split-rail fence of their paddock, the adults wallowed in an ephemeral pond deepened by the day’s rains. They confidently strode in to the water then rolled onto the banks. A one-ton creature should not move that briskly or roll with such ferocity. I hadn’t intended to watch the bison long but they sucked me in. One of the rangers told me the park hopes to add elk as another species with a former range in Central Ohio.

Red-winged blackbird posing

The birds flitting through the park prairie grasses garnered even more attention. Red-winged blackbirds, cardinals, bluebirds and other small birds of the Midwest chattered as thunder grumbled to the west.

Along West Broad, I noticed most commuters had lowered their car windows. Everyone had their A/C to reap relief from the cooler, post-storm air. In Nashville, people only drive with their windows down when they smoke.

Some old friends made plans for Japanese cuisine at Akai Hana, the consensus best Japanese restaurant in Columbus. It sits on Kenny Road in Northwest Columbus in the Kenny Shopping Centre, which hosts a group of complementary Asian and Japanese businesses including Tensuke Market, which focuses on Japanese products. It’s the kind of development that signifies a city with a world-class tilt. Name the country or ethnicity, and you can probably find the cuisine in Columbus. Along with a bowl of ramen and a tall bottle of Kirin, I must rave about the caterpillar roll, which had eel meat at its core and lots of avocado. It was glorious.

Other institutions broke up the meals. Little Village Bookstore lies on 161 between Worthington and Dublin. By late August, the bookshop will close for good after more than 60 years in business. Housed in an old church, the bookshop looks modest from the road. Inside, the shop reveals its true size with two huge floors of books. I felt somewhat shameful for only visiting the store after they decided to close. A common refrain among my friends for the weekend was “How has Bill Melville never gone to the Village Bookshelf?”

See for yourself.

I dug up some good finds in its various side-rooms, including a book of tales about my favorite state - Montana: Tall, Wide and Handsome. Tucked in the hardcover’s pages was the original sales slip from Marshall Fields in February 1949. The receipt alone ensures I will always have a fondness for the Village Bookshop.

Upon hearing that I had not been to Schmidt’s Sausage Haus, my friend Ben decided where we would have lunch. First, we had to go digging through crates of records at Used Kids Records. Used Kids has migrated off High Street to a much bigger space off Summit Street. I scavenged a handful of 45s – Stealers Wheel, Gordon Lightfoot, Ringo Starr – for $2 along with a Guided by Voices’ 2004 Austin City Limits performance, as close an approximation of their epic live shows as one can kind on LP.

Schmidt’s was packed, as one might expect on as summer weekend. Schmidt’s was an institution, occupying several buildings and an old carriage house on a weird jog in Kossuth Street that followed the path of an old creek bed. The Schmidt family still runs the restaurant and operated a meat-packing operation in German Village since the 1880s.

Schmidt's in the haze

Despite the volume of people, Schmidt’s turned over customers quickly. A fresh German-style beer from the Elevator Brewery and a sausage platter came out quickly. Hound Dog’s Pizza is an Old North Columbus tradition. Ever since it was combined with its neighboring bar, previously the Ravari Room, it stands as one of the city’s most inviting hangouts. My good friends Katy and Nick live down the street. Joining them for a nightcap seemed like the last note to hit before the road beckoned.

By Saturday afternoon, the nearness of the trip’s end leeched into my mind. It’s hard to escape, and the feeling generally won’t shake until I’m on the road and the I click away Cincinnati, Louisville and Bowling Green on the six-hour journey. This time I left early enough for a sunrise drive down Riverside Drive, when the cool morning mist still clung to the Scioto.

Somewhere near Cincinnati, I realized a pair of Schmidt’s vanilla cream puffs still sat in Ben’s fridge. Schmidt’s cream puffs became the first item on a to-do list for my next trip to Columbus – if it doesn’t get crowded out by Peruvian dinners or side trips to Yellow Springs.

A good wallow is its own reward.