HIGHLAND COUNTY
“Roadside Digressions”
22-23 July 2022
A biplane crop duster is not a common sight anymore, so we took it as a good omen when we spotted one just before entering the county along US Route 62. It was the first of a handful of quirky and eccentric sites we encountered over the next couple of days.
Just two miles inside the county, we entered Leesburg, a village laid out in 1802 and named for Leesburg, Virginia. Many early settlers to the county hailed from Old Dominion and brought with them their place names as well as their families.
We pulled into a parking space in front of one of the old store fronts in the center of town. The building had recently been renovated into a friendly eatery named Café 28, so recently that owner Lauren Arnold had just cut the grand opening ribbon two months previously. The casual décor of exposed brick walls and high black rafters made us feel comfortable from the moment we stepped inside. We ordered from the three chalkboard menus hanging behind the counter. Michele selected a Breakfast Sandwich of sausage on an English muffin, while I went with a sausage and ham Egg Frittata. Our dishes were as satisfying as our strong cups of coffee. The restaurant appeared to have quickly filled a niche. As we ate our meals, four young Amish women enjoyed morning drinks and conversation at a nearby table while two young men with sleeve tattoos stopped in to pick up to-go orders of caffeinated beverages.
With our first meal taken care of, we departed Leesburg westbound on State Route 28, passing through the neighboring town of Highland, then turning south on North Careytown Road. All around, the terrain appeared to be flat farm land, but when it comes to Ohio topography, you can never be sure what changes may lurk just past the nearest tree line. Our visit to the Fallsville State Wildlife Area would soon prove that point.
Queen Anne’s lace, clover, and thistle adorned both sides of the gravel lane that led us back to a small parking lot. On foot, we followed a dirt path into a patch of woodland. The trail was mostly level for awhile before dropping steeply down the side of a gorge to Clear Creek. The reward was a picturesque fifteen-foot waterfall that cascaded over multiple shelves of rock. A couple of young mothers with their children were there already, frolicking in the water. On our climb back out of the ravine, we passed a guy heading down with his dog.
Back in the car, we continued south on Careytown Road, passing fields of corn and shorn wheat before the horizon appeared to drop out revealing a beautiful valley vista below. The remarkable view offered strong support for the county’s name, which describes the high lands between the Scioto and Little Miami Rivers. Highland is one of the few Ohio counties named for a geographical feature rather than for Native Americans or dead white guys.
We progressed down into the county seat of Hillsboro, home to about 6,500 residents. In the center of town, we parked in front of the county courthouse which holds the distinction of being Ohio’s oldest continuously used courthouse. It was constructed during the years 1832-1835 using a basic Federal design, as exemplified by the symmetrical windows and octagonal belfry. The Ionic columns facing the front add elements of Greek Revival.
On our way into the courthouse, we passed the Highland County Bicentennial Bell, which was cast on Independence Day, 2002, and is displayed just outside the front entrance. I was looking for an updated Highland County Map and, after an inquiry at the county offices inside, was directed to the much newer Administrative Building located behind the courthouse. There, at the Highland County Map Department, I was given one gratis.
We perused some of the downtown shops where we purchased a few sweet treats at the Sugar Shack candy store and assorted sundries at the gift shop, From Me To You. Before returning to the car, we tossed a couple of coins into the courthouse fountain while making wishes. The fountain was a recent addition to the grounds after the family of Bob and Anne Bagshaw donated it in 2020.
We were back on US Route 62 as we drove out of Hillsboro. Highland County is home to a thriving Amish community and as we approached the crossroads of New Market, we had to be careful passing a horse and buggy. Three miles further on, we pulled off the road in hopes of seeing Highland County’s Bicentennial Barn. It’s been nearly 20 years since a designated barn in each of the state’s counties was painted with the logo commemorating Ohio’s 200th birthday. Unfortunately, the intervening years have seen many of the barns destroyed or the logos painted over. I was hopeful for the Highland County barn as the red, white, and blue design still showed in a November 2018 Google Street View, but alas, we were a day late and a logo short. I peered around at the south-facing side of the “former” Bicentennial barn and was met by a solid wall of maroon. The barn had been re-sided sometime in the last four years.
Disappointed, but not dismayed, we forged ahead with our county itinerary. Turning west onto Sorg Road, we followed a series of county roads through White Oak and Clay Townships. It was apparent that edible goods weren’t the only things being produced by farms in the area as we passed acres and acres of solar panels generating a bumper crop of renewable energy.
We found our way to Certier Road and proceeded north to the Fort Salem earthwork (named for Salem Township where it’s located, but also known as Workman Works in honor of an early landowner.). The well-maintained property consists of a circular earthen enclosure measuring about 450 feet in diameter and surrounding a conjoined mound. It’s believed to belong to the Hopewell Culture, dating to between 50 BC and AD 500. The earthwork has never been excavated. It was purchased in 2005 by The Archeological Conservancy, a national nonprofit group dedicated to preserving significant archaeological sites in the United States, and has been described as one of the best-preserved earthworks remaining in private ownership in the country.
Across the road from the earthwork is a beautifully restored 2-story brick house with extensive grounds. The home was built between 1869-1884 and capped with a widow’s walk. As I got out of the car to investigate the mound, I glanced over at the pond next to the house in time to see a large white egret come flying in for a landing. It was then polite enough to pose long enough for me to snap a picture using my telephoto lens.
We continued driving north, working our way up to US Route 50. Just west of Dodsonville, we turned in at a Marathon gas station that doubles as Terry’s Grocery and Pizza, family owned and operated since 1978. We ordered chicken fingers and an Italian hoagie and ate them at an indoor picnic table. The food sated our hunger, but that was about all.
We then walked outside and around to the back of the building to Terry’s Ice Cream Dairy Bar, home of the “Crazy Shake.” That was where the action was. For adults who have given up on competing for a “Parent-Of-The-Year” award, it’s a great place to bring the kids to fill up on outrageous, over-the-top desserts. Each shake comes with a dollop of ice cream that is augmented by shameless edible adornments. For example, my Orange Cream shake was spiked with two candied orange wedges, a large piece of orange licorice, a fresh orange slice, and an actual full-size creamcicle. From what I could see of other offerings, mine might have been somewhat restrained.
A sign near the window, where orders go in and monster dairy treats come out, suggested that shakes be held with two hands. I would recommend four. Considering that most of the indulgent delights were being handed off to toddlers and young children whose manual dexterity hadn’t fully matured, it should come as no surprise that the patio was littered with all manner of Crazy Shake droppings. It looked as though a clown had exploded. As soon as I was served my shake, we quickly removed ourselves from the minor madding crowd.
As we drove north on State Route 134, I was surprised our car wasn’t riding low from all the calories I’d just consumed. Three miles away in the village of Lynchburg (again, named for a place in Virginia), we sought out the Lynchburg Covered Bridge. It spans the East Fork of the Little Miami River which serves as the county line at that point, making it the only covered bridge in Ohio that connects two counties, Highland and Clinton. Unfortunately, for us, a restoration project had begun in January and the bridge’s current state showed only bare stud framing surrounded by wooden scaffolding. It was slightly embarrassing, as though I’d just caught it coming out of the shower.
Retreating back south on Route 134, we got caught behind a large, slow-moving field sprayer. The distance between the wheels on this piece of farm machinery was so wide, and the cab raised so high, that a trailing vehicle would be forgiven for considering momentarily if it could pass by right below. (Should I?! Shouldn’t I?! Should I?! Shouldn’t I?!) At US Route 50, it turned east, in the same direction we were heading. Oh well. Until it turned off a mile later, we were able to take in the countryside in a less hurried manner than the 55 mph speed limit would have dictated.
Just east of the unincorporated community of Allensburg, we turned in at Rick’s Body Shop. The house next door to Rick’s features a miniature Statue of Liberty in its front yard and I wanted to have my picture taken next to it. I stepped into the auto repair shop hoping to get permission to park in its lot during the photo shoot. I met the man himself, Rick, who not only owns the business, but also the neighboring property containing Lady Liberty. He couldn’t have been nicer.
I explained to him how I first learned of the statue, having read about it in Randy McNutt’s 1996 book (revised 2008), Ghosts: Ohio’s Haunted Landscapes, Lost Arts, and Forgotten Places. McNutt wrote of how Ora Wilkin, the home’s previous owner (and Rick’s father), had traded for the statue in a car lot in Middletown, Ohio, sometime around 1968. He installed it on a platform in his yard. Up until his death in 1998, he took great pleasure at the joy it brought to passersby. I got the feeling that Rick was carrying on that family tradition of enjoyment. He explained to me that the statue has been featured on Fox News and has been written up in Cincinnati newspapers as well as the national publication, Grit (familiar to anyone who collected comics from the ‘60s and ‘70s, where the weekly newspaper was heavily advertised). It’s also a popular landmark for motorcycle tours.
I asked Rick if it would be okay to park in his lot. He told me just to drive up the lane to his house so I wouldn’t have as far to walk. Like I said, he couldn’t have been nicer.
My intention was to recreate the iconic picture taken by Bob Gruen in 1974 of John Lennon in front of the real Statue of Liberty. As Gruen explained:
John Lennon
“The US government, under the direction of President Richard Nixon, perceived John Lennon as a political threat because he was talking of peace in a time of war. They moved to have him deported from the country. I personally felt that was wrong and seeing the Statue of Liberty as a symbol of welcome to the United States, I felt that if we took a picture of John Lennon at the Statue of Liberty it would help dramatize his case for staying in the country. I suggested to John that we take a picture in front of the Statue and I was thrilled when he agreed.”
I can’t claim any kind of personal persecution from the government (It’s not like I’m a female of childbearing age!), but when can flashing a peace sign in front of a welcoming symbol of freedom and liberty be a bad thing?
We continued east along US Route 50 into and out of Hillsboro. A few miles southeast of the county seat, and east of State Route 124, is Rocky Fork Lake and the State Park that surrounds it and bears its name. The 2,080-acre lake was created in the early 1950s after the Ohio Division of Conservation constructed a dam on the Rocky Fork. The park is popular among boaters, water skiers, picnickers, and those who enjoy hooking a fish or three.
We drove half the length of the lake on North Shore Road to the Bait & Tackle shop for Bayview Campgrounds. That’s where we checked in and picked up the key to our cabin located just across the road. Known as “The Angler,” our abode’s decor was what you might expect. A living room rug had woven into it images of fish, worms, and a tackle box. The shower curtain pictured trout as well as woodsy targets of deer and bear. The cabin was comfortable, clean and, with a potential occupancy of eight, quite roomy. We took a load off and spent the rest of the afternoon angling for a little rest and relaxation.
For dinner, we drove back to Hillsboro to the Alley Neighborhood Grille located in the Hillsboro Professional Plaza on North High Street. It’s easy to find. Just turn when you see a full-size seaplane mounted on a pole in the corner of a front yard. I’m not sure why the owner of the house at 1010 North High Street decided to have the aircraft installed; it may be a heck of a conversation piece, but it’s no Statue of Liberty.
Our evening meal more than made up for the lackluster food of our roadside repast earlier in the day. The menu at the Alley Neighborhood Grille consists of your basic American fare with burgers and such, but it’s done well and the environment is casual and inviting. Michele enjoyed a delicious mushroom burger while I opted for a satisfying Buffalo chicken salad. A couple pints of Rhinegeist Truth helped wash it all down. Then it was back to our cabin for the remainder of the evening.
This is not John Lennon.
Our initial plans for the following day were to include a late morning check-out, a leisurely breakfast, and then some afternoon hiking, but a check of the weather altered all that. An updated forecast called for a high chance of severe thunderstorms in the early afternoon, so we called an audible and were on our way by about 9:30 am.
We drove east on North Shore Road to the end of the lake and then south on State Route 753. Just shy of the county line, we turned right onto State Route 41 and then, a half-mile later, another right onto Fort Hill Road. That led us to Fort Hill Earthworks and Nature Preserve. It is officially an Ohio History Connection site, but it’s administered by the Arc of Appalachia, an organization dedicated to preserving wild lands in Ohio.
Fort Hill consists of a stone- and earthen-walled hilltop enclosure 1.5 miles in circumference. It was constructed about 2,000 years ago by the Native Americans of the Hopewell Culture. Despite its name, the structure is believed to have been built for ceremonial purposes rather than for any kind of defensive military use.
There are various trails to choose from in the preserve, but we opted for the 2.2-mile Fort Hill Loop so we could get close to the enclosure. The trail leaves the parking lot and soon begins a steady ascent, which shouldn’t come as a surprise for any route with “hill” in its name. We were still looking up at the hilltop as the path eventually leveled off. It circumnavigated about three quarters of the enclosure before ascending again, bringing us level with Fort Hill’s “walls.” At this point, we got a much better feel and understanding for the embankments and ditches that make up the enclosure.
As the trail began its descent, we were distracted by yellow flowers along the way. We later identified a couple -- we think! -- as the Pale Touch-me-not and the Woodland Sunflower. We also spotted a penis fungi known as a Stinkhorn. Once you see the shape, it will come as no surprise that its Latin name is phallus impudicus, meaning, “shamelessly phallic.”
Octagonal Learnin’
We returned to State Route 41 and traveled south for four miles to the village of Sinking Spring. Set back from Main Street, along Grand Street, sits the town’s key attraction, the Octagonal Schoolhouse, so named for its shape and its original purpose. The red brick building was constructed in 1831 to serve as the township’s first school. It helped educate the community’s youth for 13 years until a larger school was built. Since then, it has continued to serve Brush Creek Township as a headquarters for the home guards during the Civil War, a meeting space for township trustees and civic groups, and a polling location.
We backtracked up the eastern edge of the county on State Route 41, and then headed northwest on State Route 753 and east on US Route 50 to turn south on Barrett Mill Road. Just past a half circle bend in the road, we pulled into a small paved lot, big enough for only three parked cars -- with two cars already there. This was the trailhead for the Miller Nature Sanctuary State Nature Preserve, part of the larger 3,000-acre Highlands Nature Preserve cared for by the Arc of Appalachia.
Miller Arch
There’s another parking area about a half mile inside the preserve, but a metal gate blocked any further advancement in a vehicle, so we had to hoof it. There are three trails in the preserve and we started with the half-mile Arch Trail Loop. It features some interesting rock formations including the Miller Natural Bridge and a slump rock arch. The former is 46 feet long, four-to-six feet thick, and ten feet wide, making it a “moderately large” natural bridge for Ohio. The latter is a faux arch formed from two larger rocks toppling against each other.
We continued our hiking on the Falls Trail Loop, a moderate one-mile trail that features a small waterfall along the Rocky Fork, and the impressive Miller Arch, a five-foot tall, nine-and-a-half-foot wide natural stone arch. Eugene and Henrietta Miller, previous owners who deeded the property to the state, referred to it as Picnic Arch for an often-enjoyed activity.
As we progressed along the second half of the loop, we noticed a marked change in the weather. The sky had quickly changed from overcast to DARK! The wind began gusting through the trees and the temperature dropped about 15 degrees. If there was any doubt whether or not the predicted thunderstorm was approaching, rolls of thunder emphasized the point. We quickened our pace. I wasn’t at all confident we wouldn’t arrive at the car completely sopping wet, but the climatological gods were smiling upon us that day.
We were back within the safety of our automobile and retreating up Barrett Mill Road by the time the skies opened up and deluged us with torrents of water. Back on US Route 50, the rain was coming down so forcefully that we couldn’t see out the windshield even with the wipers working at double speed. It was the kind of obstructed visibility that makes one mistake a large black cow in a field for a big black bear. (We doubled back for another look. Nope. It was just a very wet bovine.) For safety’s sake, we finally pulled off the road and waited out the storm.
About 15 minutes later, we had resumed our drive, but US Route 50 was blocked somewhere between our position and Hillsboro, so we had to drop back down to North Shore Road and take the scenic route back to the county seat. By the time we reached High Street, the rain had stopped and the sun was shining once again.
A block south of the courthouse, we stepped into The Daily Grind, a combination bakery and café opened by Saundra Burns in October 2019. Our hiking had worked up a healthy appetite. We both ordered white mocha coffees, and I got a BLT while Michele selected a French Melt made with ham, swiss, caramelized onion, fresh greens, and béchamel sauce. Her choice turned out to taste just as good as it sounded.
Before leaving Hillsboro for the final time, we had one more site to see and it was a doozy: The World’s Largest Horseshoe Crab! It’s only a mile from the center of town, on State Route 124 (aka Main Street), but, unfortunately, while we were dining at The Daily Grind, a car had flipped over on Main Street, stopping traffic going both ways. Cars were backed up for blocks. Fortunately, we were able to use our county map to navigate around the accident.
First, some facts regarding this monstrous arthropod. It’s not alive and never has been. It’s made of foam and fiberglass. Every reference I found for it gives a slightly different dimension, but an article in Cincinnati Magazine says it measures about 67.5 feet long, 33 feet wide, and 10.5 feet high. If you’re on good terms with it, you can call it Crabbie.
Despite horseshoe crabs being common around coastal waters, Crabbie has done a fair amount of traveling overland since it was built in the mid-1990s. It is said that the original owner was a biotechnology research center in Baltimore, Maryland. When that enterprise went bankrupt, Crabbie was sold to the Answers in Genesis Creation Museum located in Kentucky, proved to be too big for the facility, so in turn was sold to the Freedom Worship Baptist Church in Blanchester, Ohio.
According to a story on www.roadsideamerica.com, Jim Rankin, pastor of the creationist church, believed the horseshoe crab was evidence for the fallacy of evolution. "The fossils found of the horseshoe crab are the same as they appear in the waters today," he said. "The crab never evolved, so the creation account must be true!" The same story also quotes Laurie Risch, executive director of the Behringer-Crawford Museum, who points out, "Trilobites are the ancestor to the horseshoe crab.”
Freedom Worship Baptist Church doesn’t sound like the place for me, but I might have stopped by in August 2008 to witness evangelist Gene Sullivan (Evel Knievel’s former bodyguard!) ride his motorcycle over Crabbie as part of his “Jump for Jesus” ministry. The jump culminated in Sullivan smashing through a burning “Gates of Hell.” That sounds so cool!
Crabbie was on the move again in 2015 when the church sold it to Ben Sexton, who moved it to its current home in Hillsboro. (He has since sold it to his brother, Jim.) It resides in a well-kept green space off Main Street, but beware, there’s barely room to pull off a car and park. I walked a revolution around the giant horseshoe crab and marveled at the ingenuity it took to create it. It’s hollow inside and roomy enough for a picnic table and ample seating. A nearby sign claims it has been “rated top 5” among roadside attractions. It also claims, “As seen in blockbuster movie, ‘Twilight: Eclipse.’”
Had you talked to me the day before, I would have confidently stated that I would reach my final day on Earth having never watched a Twilight movie. Unfortunately, I couldn’t let this declaration pass without some fact-checking, so against my better judgment, I later got a dvd copy of the movie from the library and watched it. Well, let me tell you, that’s two hours and four minutes of my life I’ll never get back again. (I realize I’m not the target demographic for this franchise – which is who, teenage vampires who will watch anything? – but sweet Crabbie on a crutch, that movie is awful!)
I happily could have written off my time watching “Twilight: Eclipse” as research drudgery if only I’d found the scene in question, but nowhere in that movie does Crabbie appear. I later found an online reference stating “a picture” of Crabbie appears on a piece of clothing that makes up a T-Shirt quilt given to Bella by her mother, but even when I watched that scene in slo-mo, I couldn’t make out an image of a horseshoe crab. I put the dvd back in its case feeling I’d been fooled. Hoodwinked, even. I would go so far as to say I’d been bamboozled.
I’ve obviously digressed WAY too much regarding Crabbie. Suffice it to say, I would recommend to anyone that they visit The World’s Largest Horseshoe Crab. I would NOT recommend watching “Twilight: Eclipse.”
Needing to return to High Street, we found another little used route to maneuver our way again past the accident. From the center of town, we drove north through the city before turning onto State Route 138. While passing through portions of Liberty, Paint, and Madison Townships, we played, “Spot the Amish house.” These are usually recognizable by being large and white, simple in design, and minus shutters on the windows. A horse & buggy in the driveway tends to be a giveaway, too.
We finally arrived in Greenfield, a village of just over 4,000 residents tucked into the northeast corner of the county. On Jefferson Street, the main thoroughfare through town, we found Scotty’s 22 Brew, a new microbrewery just opened this year by Scott Benner. We appeared to be the first customers of the day. Upon our request, he drew a pint of his Jig & Reel Irish Stout for myself and the Rucker’s Irish Red for Michele. We wiped off the Adirondack chairs on the front patio that were still wet from the recent storm and settled in for some day drinking and people-watching.
Village banners hanging from light poles urged visitors to “Discover the Charm” of Greenfield. As we sipped and relaxed and observed, I could feel the charm seep in.
After reaching the bottom of our glasses, we found Ohio Route 753 on the north side of town and followed it for the final mile out of the county.
Time spent in the county: 29 hours, 37 minutes
Miles driven in the county: 163