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I now know this: It doesn't take $100 to go 100 miles east of Cincinnati along the Ohio River and back.
First of all, prices are circa 1955. Slushes at the Dairy Creme in Portsmouth come in the usual small, medium and large for 30, 55, or 80 cents. Our two large limes were under $2.
Besides that, there isn't much to do that costs money. Aside from antique stores, shopping isn't just limited — it's nonexistent. And most of the "attractions" are free. Which is unfortunate for my older sister, because I sold her on the otherwise boring-sounding trip with the promise of presents that didn't materialize.
I chose the trip more for its scenic potential anyway. I've always liked being around water, and if the Ohio River's all I've got I'll take advantage.
Not long after leaving the Interstate 275 beltway, we noticed our first attraction outside of Chilo — a tree stump carved into a cross/makeshift shelves. When we pulled over we found the roadside grave of Diana Whitney. In 1823, the 16-year-old was trampled by a wagon train traveling west. A stone placed in her memory tells her story of "humble sacrifice woven into our country's greatness." Passersby have left additional objects including the creepiest doll ever, some change, a hairbrush and a baseball.
Chilo was the first of many small communities dotting the Ohio River that offered brief variations from the beautifully monotonous green and blue views. Some towns consist of as little as a handful of houses, a church and a graveyard. As my sister remarked that it's all you need to be baptized, married and die. But each town has something about it.
For Manchester, about 75 miles down the road, it was the quaint, almost Wild West-style downtown. I could picture it dusty, lined with saloons and tied-up horses and two drunks staggering for a shoot-out. Today the street is lined with Chevy Cavaliers and stores like Wally World offering household wares.
Aberdeen's greatest attraction is the skinny two-lane bridge to, and picturesque view of, Maysville, Ky. We drove it both ways. Sadly for Aberdeen, the view is best when leaving the city.
The names are chuckle-worthy, including roads such as Fill Dirt and Lick Skillet to towns like Friendship, Utopia and Point Pleasant. There's plenty of tobacco signage, and the leafy plants are visible from the road growing between tall fields of corn.
We visited only two towns of any notable size. The first was Ripley, birthplace of Rosa Riles, a.k.a. Aunt Jemima. We stopped by the Olde Piano Factory Antique Mall and perused the goods, purchasing a stamp of an old man for a buck.
Portsmouth, the second and larger, is almost exactly 100 miles from Cincinnati. We expected it to be the pinnacle of our trip, but we were wrong. The town's history is displayed in beautifully painted panels on the inside of the floodwall separating the city from any view of the river. They cover 2,000 years of history in 2,000 feet, from the Shawnee Indians to Shawnee State University.
We stopped for lunch at the Portsmouth Brewing Co. and were greeted by an older, slightly inebriated man in a red checkered shirt. He was seated beside a table of ripe tomatoes for sale. It was my cue to order the BLT, made with the same homegrown tomatoes, and a pint of the locally brewed Red Bird Ale. Another customer remarked repeatedly as we waited by the bar to even up, "They dress a nice table."
Portsmouth boasts a historical district of antique shops, but all we could find was old junk. Without spending much time there, we hopped back on 52.
The Moyer Winery outside of Manchester is a vineyard and restaurant overlooking the Ohio River. Outside, it reminded me of a place I visited in Germany overlooking the Rhine River, but inside was pure American cheese — pink and more pink. It was empty on a Friday afternoon, and we enjoyed the view with the help of a slice of cheesecake and an oversized ice cream ball rolled in pecans and topped with caramel. As we left, we grabbed a couple bottles of their award-winning Chambourcin to take home.
As we crossed back over 275 we checked our money envelope and, though we bought everything we could think of, had plenty of cash left. We weren't completely empty-handed, because we managed together to fill three rolls of film.
