If the morning of day two seemed leisurely, than the rest of the day should be seen as jam packed. I waved goodbye to the warm, welcoming hills of northern Kentucky and grudgingly greeted Ohio.
I'll come right out and say it: Ohio is my least favorite state in the United States. But on that note, I don't think it's a terribly dangerous statement to make. The meme of an astronaut holding his helmet and trudging down a lonely country lane comes to mind. It goes something like: "9 of 10 NASA astronauts are from Ohio, meaning they'd rather leave earth than live in Ohio." And I can't help agreeing with it.
In summer 2015, I was pulled over while driving through Ohio. I'd gotten so angry at being held in endless groups of traffic that would drift from 65 to 70 to 75 back down to 60 again that I'd resorted to sustained honking and some close passes. The officer was nice and let me go with a warning, but Ohio remained a sour state to pass through.
Cincinnati was the first major city I encountered, and probably the most interesting to see in Ohio. Its position and history made it a mecca for historic churches, factories, and houses. Past Cincy, there was little more of interest in Ohio. Luckily, the construction that led to my frustrating traffic scenarios in 2015 had finally wrapped up, and I avoided an Ohio Pull-Over this time.
Crossing into Michigan gave me the same feeling of accomplishment it had that past summer. Mostly the "Wow, this is so far away for my 14 year old car to be from home." But also because I really didn't expect to like Michigan as much as I do.
The people here are extremely friendly, and have a hard-won spirit that is admirable no matter where you're coming from. When I was in Detroit last year, I saw a magnificent city that had fallen on hard times, but I got the feeling that its base was still there, plugging away at making their city an incredible power once again.
An afternoon stop was in order. I wanted to get lunch and poke around the small lakeside town of Monroe, which is only about 10 miles from Michigan's southern border with Ohio. Monroe has a surprisingly long and interesting history for a town of only 20,000 people. The French landed in the area as early as 1679 and found it an extremely effective area for growing grapes. Thus, many buildings and markers in town still bear "Raison" in their names.
After the Revolutionary War, the portion of land that is present-day Monroe was given to Canadian Francis Navarre for use as a European settlement. The area was loosely populated throughout the 19th century, seeing a bloody massacre during the War of 1812. Thanks to its proximity to Detroit, Monroe was officially settled as a town by migrants from New England shortly after the war.
I left Monroe with the Canadian border in my sights. By about 3:30, I crossed the Ambassador bridge, which would take me across the Detroit River to Windsor, Ontario.
My crossing went smoothly, and I was immediately hit by Vegas Strip-like border town fodder. The signs were in km/h, and I was lucky enough to have the accompanying readout on my speedometer. Along the strip, there was every single American fast food restaurant you could think of, one sign stacked on top of the other. You'd think it was our only export unless you knew of the Chrysler plant located a few blocks north. Soon the Windsor strip gave way to a pristinely manicured four lane interstate.
100 km/h. This was the speed limit, and I'd learn to get used to it, since it was the highest I ever saw during my time in Canada. For quick reference, that's 62mph, which is not fast; not at all. I decided to stick to 70mph, which was nearly 20km/h over--which I was warned multiple times by blue and yellow signs would earn me "demerit points," whatever those were.
The drive from Windsor to Toronto, where I'd be stopping for the night, was 230 miles. By the time I hit the first wave of truly biblical Toronto traffic, it was already dark. The sheer amount of cars on the road was stunning, even by my Atlanta traffic standards. The highway around Toronto followed a familiar design to those of you familiar with some bigger city systems in the United States. One group of lanes is split and contains groups of exits, while the adjacent lane is divided from it, allowing traffic to flow more freely for those not getting off at local exits. Regardless, I sat in stop and go for about half an hour before I reached my penultimate exit.
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| An update on the fall colors--getting there, but still with a ways to go. |
After getting off the interstate, I immediately began to pick up on what makes Toronto such an amazing city: its neighborhoods. Driving through Toronto, and up to my destination near the University of Toronto and Chinatown, put me in mind of Brooklyn, with its diverse but distinct boroughs teeming with life. By the time I reached my hostel, I'd decided that Toronto was just a slightly more orderly New York City, a point that's been made by many voices larger than mine many times before.
My choice for the night was Planet Traveler, a multi-story hostel that charges a very reasonable $20 a night for a bunk bed in an eight-person dorm. On the tour, I was quickly shown the centerpiece and selling-point of this place: a rooftop deck that overlooked the downtown skyline. I settled in at the barbeque that was taking place that night, snapped a few pictures, and solidified my game plan for the next day's exploring.
Click here to go to Day Three, a tour of Toronto.
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