I have decided to complete a "Grand Tour" of all the cities and villages in Ohio that are named after European cities. It may take me a year or so to complete, but it will be a project to keep me interested. Yesterday I decided to visit Marseilles, Ohio.
Marseilles, France is the second-largest city in France, and its largest port city. It is on the Mediterranean coast. It has been documented as far back as 600 B.C., so has a rich history and culture. Visitors can expect to tour museums and basilicas, dine in sidewalk cafes, visit an outdoor market, visit the fishing village that inspired Cezanne, go to the beach, take a walk in a park, and eat wonderful seafood. For more information see any number of tourist guides, I have included one here from The Crazy Tourist.
In contrast, Marseilles, Ohio, is a small village of just over 100 people as of the 2010 census. It was founded in the mid-1840's, with the population declining throughout the twentieth century. Google Maps shows just two business, a U-haul place and the "Angle Back Just One More" restaurant/tavern, one fire department, and one Presbyterian church. A tributary of Tymochtee creek runs through the town, which eventually runs to the Sandusky River.
I studied the Trail Link and Google maps and found that the Marion Tallgrass Trail ends just south of Marseilles, so I mapped out a route starting at the trailhead in Marion, biking the length of the trail, heading north on the country roads, riding through town, then heading back south to the bike trail on different township roads.
As I drove to Marion, I exulted in the beautiful colors of the foliage on this October day. The red and sugar maples are brilliant scarlet, the more russet tones of the poison ivy and Virginia creeper trailing up the yellow-leafed black walnut, hickory, and chestnut trees to accent them. The oaks that have started coloring are also a deeper maroon, while some are still a deep green.
Marion's downtown seems fairly prosperous, buildings were new and very clean. I remembered going to visit an older second-cousin who was an eye doctor in Marion 50 or 60 years ago. He had an office on the second floor of a downtown business. The interior decor of the office was Victorian. He was much older, I remember his accent and his white hair, as well as the gas fireplace. I have no idea now which building that was.
Marion's courthouse is a historical building, built in 1884-1886. Ten portholes are decorated with sandstone heads of various figures. Four of them are meant to depict various races—a white woman, an African man, an Asian man, and an American Indian man. Other heads include two settler girls and a settler woman, plus a head similar to depictions of William Shakespeare.
Three giant windmills marked the approach to the Marion Tallgrass Trail trailhead. The trailhead was easy to find and offered generous parking spaces. Of course the building was closed due to COVID-19, but the county parks department had provided a portable toilet. There is a playground with insect-themed equipment.
For example, there is a concrete telephone booth that was historically used by railroad workers to phone the station. I would not have realized this was a phone booth without the explanation. I wonder what kids who have grown up with mobile phones would think of it! First you would have to explain the concept of land-based phone lines, and then railroads and railroad workers.
The trail itself was very clean except for the scattering of fallen leaves and the occasional black walnuts in their husks fallen from a trailside tree. I had to be careful to avoid these. I just read of a cyclist in the Giro de Italia race who ran over a fallen water bottle and crashed, breaking his pelvis. I noticed the boot scrapers that were placed along the trail at the parking areas and also at many of the trailside benches. This puzzled me. Why would people who are walking on the trail need to scrape their boots? Unless it is assumed that they go off-trail and wander through the mud? The trail rules signage indicated that the first rule was to keep the trail clean.
One of the parking areas had a picnic shelter that overlooked this backyard. The range of greens in the trees was very peaceful and provided some relief from the reds and orange tones along the trail. I noticed several gardens along the trail that were quite neat and tidy.
The trail itself was uncrowded. I passed perhaps 10 other single riders and a couple of family groups.
I noticed the bright berries on this shrub on hundreds of places along the trail. I turned the photo in to a Plant Identification group (People helping People) on Facebook to make sure it was honeysuckle, because the leaves are somewhat different than the honeysuckle I am familiar with on our farm in Michigan. It was identified as Lonicera maackii, Amur honeysuckle. The person commented that it is one of the worst invasive plants in glaciated Ohio. The side of the trail is evidence of that!
I noticed that many of the soybean fields along the trail seemed ready to harvest. The pods seemed so dry they were about to shatter. Evidently this farmer agreed with me as he raised a cloud of dust with his massive combine. The purple asters contrast with the muted goldenrod which is past its prime for use in dyeing.
The trail passes under the road at Riley Road. The bridge nicely frames the trail. Getting close to the end!
And I have arrived at the end of the Marion Tallgrass Trail. There is a path to the left down a sharp slope to Hardin-Marion road. I love the way that roads in this area are named for their endpoints, or for towns along their routes. The sign recommends walking your bike down. I took the advice and then headed right, to the north. I heard voices very clearly from the farm a quarter of a mile away, as if they were standing close to me. Must have something to do with the flatness of the land and the hill.
In contrast to the flat trail, the road sloped up quite a bit, but it was easily accomplished by shifting down to a lower gear. There were a few very small hills which meant some coasting, a relief from pedaling all the time. There was not much traffic on this road. Three semi-trucks rolled by me from the north, and one from behind. All slowed down as they went by. One pickup truck, and that was it. The soybean fields on either side were beautiful. There was almost a lavender haze of ripe beans overlaying the beige leaves and stalks. The trees are just beginning to turn color here.
I passed two poultry farms and a couple of swine farms on this road. The odor was not terrible, but it was noticeable, the swine farms more so than the poultry facility. There were signs identifying the poultry barns as a pullet farm, belonging to the "Trillium" company.
I saw a couple of huge tractors harvesting corn, with semi-trucks parked in the field to carry off the harvest. Mostly the corn I noticed was too green for harvest yet, but not these fields. A similar tractor nearby was ready to disk the stubble into the ground.
I passed the Terry Hill roadside cemetery with what appeared to be very old stones. Several had the name "Terry" with dates ranging from the 1800's to the early 1900's. I had time to notice this because I was walking up a hill. It was the only hill on the whole route that I had to dismount. I later learned that Jerry Terry was the first teacher in Marseilles Township, in 1823.
I turned right when I reached Kenton-Marseilles Road. This road was a little wider and a little busier, but traffic was still relatively light, and drivers were courteous. A few miles later and I reached State Highway 67 merging onto the township road. It was not busy at all, and there was a paved shoulder of at least 18 inches all the way into downtown Marseilles. I wanted a photo to prove that I had arrived, but the "corporation limit" sign for Marseilles was perched on the guardrail for a bridge over the creek, and didn't make it easy to take a photo. When I got into Marseilles, I passed by the only business I noticed, other than a U-haul place, which was signed "the Sportsman's Grill". I was looking for a sign that said "Marseilles". I saw a park off to the right on East street and turned down it for a photo opp. It turned out to be a school field.
Checking the map, I realized that I could follow the road that ran beside the park to go south back to the bike trail. From the map, it appeared that I would be travelling alongside a reservoir, on County Road 77, but the road was below the level of the water and all I saw was a gravel drive with a sign saying "keep out". So I kept going. County Road 77 turned east, and I travelled another mile or so to turn right on County Road 103. By this time I was kind of regretting having decided to make such a long trip (35 miles) after having not ridden for so many days. My hands were going numb from vibration on the tar and chip roads and my rear end was also slightly uncomfortable. But I kept going. I really had no other alternative! I came to another Trillium poultry facility, this one for eggs. I stopped to take a picture.
The road got narrower as I travelled south, until it was not much wider than the bike trail. When I reached the point where CR 103 changed to CR 28, Dry Lane Road, the surface was still tar and chip, but it had been resurfaced more recently, so it was a little rougher and also a little narrower. Very light traffic on this road. One car slowed as it came up behind me and I had to wave him around. I was glad when I arrived at Wildcat Pike Intersection, because I knew the bike trail was not too much farther along. Sure enough, I got back to the trail after DeCliff-Big Island Road and turned left. The trail surface was much smoother than the road I had just left. I shifted into a higher gear after an older man passed me, but I did not catch up with him. My average speed is still around 9.5 mph.
Someone had thoughtfully left these trail markers telling me to "Keep Going" alongside the trail. Maybe a Scout?
So keep going I did. I passed the spot where the trumpeter swans could be seen in the Marion Foundation Lake. There is an observation deck, but I could see the three windmills at a distance, meaning I was close to the trailhead. So I kept going.
Very interesting Brenda. Good job.
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