There and Back Again – A Man’s Adventure in Ohio

The winds howled all around me, my shirt collar whipped at my neck and the map I had drawn based on information I gathered from the locals of western Pennsylvania was ripped from my hands. This was it. The culmination of my whole life of studying and exploring the known world. I had just entered Ohio.

The Buckeye State is divided into distinct regions, each more danger-filled and treacherous than the last. Though all the natives seem to worship the same pantheon, they are divided along the lines of two chief deities. One is a war god in the form of a tiger worshipped mainly in the north, and the other appears to be a canonized warrior-saint by the name of Paul Brown who had at some point led warriors from the south against this tiger-god and it’s followers. Via the Glaciated Allegheny Plateau region in the North East, I came across a small village of Brown-worshipping natives that were incapable of speaking common English. Their customs were bizarre and alien. Too gruesome to put to page and still be publish on the clear-web. Their weapons astounded me, the men carried trident-like spears with them. Perhaps these were the descendants of the Atlanteans? Though apprehensive of me at first, the locals quickly accepted me and I was treated to great hospitality. The villagers bestowed on me gifts from their culture: Food, in the form of a brownish-red slop filled with ground beef atop noodles; and dress: A hat emblazoned with a sigil representing a tractor.

Despite the kindness of the villagers, I continued southwest on my journey. It was hard by foot, and the plains stretched on for miles. I managed to kill and eat a small four-legged animal and forage some plants to eat. Oddly, when I came to a settlement, a native child screamed when it saw my quarry draped over my shoulder, but when offered a piece of its flesh the child seemed even more upset. I quickly moved on from there, as the adults gave me strange looks as well, and I would have been loathe to be made to hurt them if I was forced into a self defense situation.

I eventually came across a field of stone sculptures of massive ears of corn standing straight up in the till plains of the central lowlands. The hair on my neck stood on end. I had trained many years to ensure the hair on my arms and legs would not, so I don’t show weakness when threatened. The advantages of having heightened sensitivity are still useful, so the back of my neck I retain it there where it is unseen by those in front of me. My blood pressure increased slightly. This place had a powerful, but silent, energy. I can only assume this to be some form of shrine to lesser fertility gods worshipped by the savages inhabiting these lands. I left an offering of a portion of my venison jerky, and said a prayer. Something had helped me get this far, it was only fair I thanked it.

I resolved to continue further, but I sought refuge from a coming storm in a hamlet that was not far from the plain of false corn. The natives here did not seem to have as strong distinctions between chieftain gods as those in the North or South, while some were tiger-cultists and others revered Brown, others worshipped a personification of a prickly plant similar to a chestnut; and they all lived in relative peace. These savages seemed more Dionysian than the others, chiefly active at night, and quite gregarious. Frenzies of alcohol, orgies, and various hedonic activities preoccupied them; though during the day they were restful so as to recover. While a joyous and vibrant culture, when the storms died down I left them behind. I needed to see the rest of this incredible land.

I don’t remember much of the rest of my journey. The months of wandering, the mud, the blood, the sweat. It all blended together. All I knew at that time was an inexpressible urge. A clawing feeling beneath my very skin. I needed to escape. I needed to leave Ohio. Though as a man of exploration, a modern Livingstone, I had wanted to explore this land to its fullest: The dread inside me turned me to an animal in the presence of the southernmost regions of the state. I had to get out of there. I had nightmares, in those nightmares I was encased in those stones in the pseudo-corn-field, unable to even breathe. Eternity passed. I finally found myself on my knees, naked, freezing, in a parking lot outside of a gas station off the interstate in West Virginia. Somehow, my psyche had been entered into a self-defense fugue state, and during that my unconscious mind had managed to lead me to safety.

My journey through Ohio was unlike any adventure I have ever had, and it taught me a great many things. Chief among them: STAY FAR AWAY FROM CINCINNATI.