Editor’s note: Port Clinton-based photographer and writer James Proffitt traveled hundreds of miles between countless railroad crossings on Ohio’s highways and back ro
To be certain, spray-painting railcars is illegal and dangerous. Most graffiti is born near rail yards in larger cities, like the Queensgate yard in Cincinnati, where the cars are plentiful and often don’t move for long periods of time.
Marblehead resident Cathy Bertovich has been driving Ohio roads for more than 50 years, so when she talks about new roundabouts recently constructed in Ottawa County, hers is certainly a voice of experience.
Bertovich notes that the approaches to the new Ottawa County roundabouts — at an exit ramp from Ohio Route 2/53 and an adjacent one at the intersection of Route 53 and East State Road — are posted 15 mph, but some drivers speed through, which throws off the rhythm for incoming traffic. “And then sometimes people come to a complete stop when someone’s coming around or even when there’s no traffic coming,” she says. “I’ve seen four or five cars backed up coming off Route 2 where people have stopped at the roundabout when they didn’t need to.”
The colors of the hull can vary — white, yellow, blue, turquoise — but just about anyone on Lake Erie knows the classic Lyman lines: a deep bow with lapstrake wood, a certain wave-busting flare, the captain’s easygoing air of pride.
Perhaps the fiercest is Tom Korokney, a.k.a. “Doc Lyman.” He purchased the tooling, jigs, fixtures, and archived records from then-defunct Lyman during bankruptcy and moved it all to Lexington in Richland County.
“I’ve used the tooling to duplicate parts through the years,” he says. “And the documentation — I’ve got all the original hull records.” Those records, Korokney says, are sought after by folks who desire historical papers, including certificates of authenticity, for their boats.
Taxi cabs, like dense traffic, honking horns, and skyscrapers, usually are synonymous with big-city life. But the taxi business is different for Bobby and Natasha Skeans, members of Hancock-Wood Electric Cooperative.
While the Skeanses live in a home tucked away down a gravel lane in a quiet, peaceful, wooded area of the island, other spots on Kelleys — especially on those busy weekends — have an altogether different vibe, and the island’s roads can feature some chaotic twists and turns.
“[Riders] can be very happy and like to sing songs,” Natasha says. “One time I had a football team. They were like 55 years old, and they decided to share all the songs they used to sing back in the day.”
Greg Miller’s father, Jay, planted his first bunch of trees on 100 acres in Carroll County back in the middle of the last century.
At one point, Miller says, a local coal company took note of all those nuts and briefly entered the chestnut game as a side-gig. It soon went bankrupt, however; the folks who bought up the land were looking for deer hunting sites rather than an agricultural specialty crop.
In February 2022, a crash on Ohio 19 in Ottawa County took the life of Shannon Roberts’ 17-year-old son, Richie, and his friend, who was driving. “He was a great kid and didn’t deserve what happened,” she says. “It was a complete accident and nobody’s to blame.”
Drivers in Ohio pass them by, often without a second thought — a small cross or a bouquet of flowers, a candle or a stuffed animal, any of a number of seemingly insignificant trinkets. But to the folks who have erected these roadside memorials, they mean the world.
No one could have known when Brad Ryan’s parents divorced years ago that it would result in a long, record-breaking, heartwarming journey.
Joy lives in Duncan Falls, a sleepy town nestled against the rolling hills along the Muskingum River southeast of Zanesville, where she’s a longtime member of New Concord-based Guernsey-Muskingum Electric Cooperative. When they finally reconnected, Brad noticed she was suffering some health issues, and clearly needed a change.
Nearly a million people visit the tiny cluster of islands at the western end of Lake Erie each year, and most of them arrive by boat — specifically, on one of three ferry services that tote folks across the water from Port Clinton, Catawba, Sandusky, and Marblehead.
Ehrbar is one of a half-dozen full-time Kelleys captains, who, along with nine part-timers, keep the service’s five boats running from Marblehead to Kelleys Island nearly year-round. “In season, we’re running a boat every 30 minutes — we just raise the ramp and go,” Ehrbar says. “But in the off-season, we’ll give a couple minutes leeway here or there.”
Kendra Wecker, chief of the Ohio Department of Natural Resources’ wildlife division, swears she’s not trying to put any food trucks out of business.
The kitchen and its chefs cook and serve up free food created with wild-harvested Ohio game, including fish, fowl, and other critters. And Ken Fry, ODNR outdoor skills specialist, says it all began when he was cooking up such treats from the bed of a pickup truck with a pop-up tent at a Jefferson County farmers market a while back.
“It was so well-received that I presented the trailer idea to my supervisor and he liked it and said, ‘Let’s go with it,’” Fry says.
