#gravel trails in ohio

[ellies-cycling-notes]

Day 20: Ann Arbor to Grand Ledge

Distance Covered: 86.22 miles

Total Time (including rests): 8:20 (7:57am-4:17pm)

Time spent riding: 7:12

Average Speed: 12.0 mph

Apples Eaten: 3 (honeycrisp - 7/10, fuji - 7.5/10, fuji - 6/10)

Today's post is probably gonna be on the shorter side, as I don't have much time to write.

Ride was a slow one, but still nice. I traveled on a mix of roads and bike trails. Most of the ride was on paved side roads, but parts were on bike trails, both paved and unpaved. I also spent a bit of time on gravel roads, which wasn't that pleasant, but it wasn't as bad as some of the gravel paths on previous days.

The ride was hilly-er than the several days spent riding through Ohio, but not by much. What was really annoying was not the hills, but rather the headwind. I had a heavy North wind, and about 1/2 of this ride was me heading north, and I always slowed to a crawl when I had to go north for a long period of time. Luckily, some amount of that northward-bound riding was on bike trails, and so the speed loss was made up for by a better road.

I stopped 3 times, twice along bike trails, and once by a cemetery, for snack/lunch breaks. The stops were mostly evenly spaced, and were part of the reason I considered today a "slow ride". The last bit of the ride biking through Lansing and Grand Ledge was the best of the ride not on trails, and I wish all road riding could be like that.

The only truly notable thing that happened during the ride was at the very beginning: while on the Border-to-Border trail heading out of Ann Arbor, I had to stop at a stop sign to let a person carrying a rowing scull to pass me, carrying their boat out to a dock just in the other side of the trail.

Pavement Notes

I did a whole terminological deep dive into roads at the beginning of this trip. Now, I'd like to return to that topic (sort of), by talking about pavement of roads. When in a car, there's only a few different types of pavement you tend to notice. However, on a bike, you're much more sensitive to the road beneath you, so you notice more types of pavement.

First of all, there are the unpaved roads:

Packed dirt - fine to ride on, as long as it's not muddy. Be careful for potholes and divots in the road.

Light gravel - the nicest unpaved roads, this is a packed earth road with a light layer of gravel above it. The gravel doesn't interfere with the riding, and so the feeling is nice.

Medium gravel - like above, but gravel may be larger or more plentiful in parts. Not too bad if you're only on it for a short while, but you have to be paying constant attention ahead of you, and it can get uncomfortable at times, so better in small doses.

Rocky gravel - bad, terrible, don't really even want to talk about it. On these roads, you usually have to bike extremely carefully, and sometimes it feels like it would be better to stop your bike and walk.

I also have some different types of paved roads which I was going to write about, but I'm getting rather tired, and don't really have the mental capacity to describe them well. I might write about them another day, or I might just forget about it.

Math Notes

Rather than Design Notes today, I have a theoretical/simulation math problem I've been thinking about.

When I map out my route, it gives a certain mileage. However, that mileage is only correct if you make perfect turns and stay on the center of every road. That got me thinking, how much can you increase the distance you bike on a route of a certain length, given that you are constantly following the route given to you. This turns into an equation dependent on the minimum and maximum speed of your bike, how fast and to what degree it can turn, and most importantly, how wide the road is. This is because the way to maximize distance is to weave back and forth on the road, while still biking forwards. That's as far as I really thought about it, but I just wanted to get my thoughts out.

That's it for today. I'm not camping today, as I'm staying with family, and tomorrow I'll be heading out to Kalamazoo. Only 3 days of riding left!

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[turbobuckeye]

Memorial trail ride for our beloved AMMO member, Nicole Rice. Saturday, March 4. AMMO meeting at 10am at the Love's truck stop for a driver's meeting. Leaving at 10:15am.⁣⁣ ⁣⁣ For those who don't have an off-road vehicle but would like to participate, don't feel left out. There's plenty of us with extra seats if you'd like to join us.⁣⁣ Bring GMRS radios if you have one!!! Pack snacks and drinks for you and your passengers. ⁣ Meet-up: 10:00am⁣⁣⁣⁣ Love's Travel Stop - gas station⁣⁣ 25727 Durac St, Circleville, OH 43113⁣⁣ ⁣⁣ Rollout: 10:15am⁣⁣⁣⁣ We will be cruising down 23 to Scioto Trail State Park. It will be mostly gravel/blacktop. So all 4x4's welcome. We will travel back to Circleville to eat afterwards. ammocarclub.com #Ohio #ammocarclub @byersauto @hinderercdjr #HEMI @stellantisna @automedicssouth @hotshotssecret @pantherlights @toxsickcreations #OH @thetintlabusa @bpreciseautodetailing #dodgegarage @jaxwaxcolumbus @jaxwaxcarcareproducts @chrysler @ramtrucks @dodgeofficial @jeep @officialmopar @michaels_auto_and_performance @marktoeniskoetter #soundinvestment #Mopar #OhioMopar #OhioMopars #trailrun #offroad #RiceMemorial #family #4x4 (at Circleville, Ohio) https://www.instagram.com/p/CpQG0VQuBDp/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[ledenews]

Andrew Hollis: Always Wheelin’ Around His Favorite New Town

Andrew Hollis has ideas. Good ideas. Sure, some are impossible, “pie-in-the-sky” ideas, but they’re all “man-wouldn’t-that-be-cool” ideas. Hollis often offers these social media suggestions that deserve attention, too, because this local business owner – he purchased Wheelcraft in Elm Grove back in 2021 after working there for six years – is a native of Clairton, Pa., so his brainstorms come from a fresh, “outsider’s” perspective that once was unwelcomed in Wheeling and considered as unreliable nonsense. “We’re from here so WE know BEST.” … “You’re a transplant … what do you know?” … “You can always go back to where you came from …” Thank goodness such a moronic mindset has dissipated, and local folks now look forward to hearing creative concepts that have worked well in similarly sized towns across America. Like a skate park, bike trails, a dog park, and a splash pad, and who knows what come might next or from where the idea originated? Thanks to his social media sharing, we know Hollis is hoping for proper bike lanes in the Friendly City, more preservation before demolition, continued growth in the local bicycle community, and a renewed city-and-citizen partnership that’s every-day focus is to maintain what we have and add what we don’t. Too pie in the sky? That’s what some thought a little more than 20 years ago about Heritage Port, too. Hollis and Casey Milliken work together at Wheelcraft and, on occasion, they get to participate in biking events in the valley region. How old were you when the training wheels came off your first bike? I learned to ride without training wheels around the age of 4 or 5. My parents lived on staff at a Christian missionary school in Concord, NH at the time. After a few failed attempts in the grass, I got the hang of riding on two wheels on the gravel driveway behind the building. I was so excited at the time and remember my dad saying, “Just keep pumping the pedals.” As far as re-painting bike lanes in East Wheeling to connect the trail to Heritage Port, where and how do you recommend the City properly mark the paths? So, Wheeling previously DID have bike lanes through East Wheeling, but they had fallen into disrepair and were never repainted when 16th and 17th Street were paved in 2021. At the minimum, I would like to see the old route re-established with green paint added and intersection crossings. I would also like to see the use of flexposts on 16th and 17th Street if they decide to use those streets as bike lanes. The route I would like to personally see is: Westbound: 17th / Jacob / 14th Eastbound: Nailers Way / 16th / Jacob / 17th Andrew and his wife, Susan, take advantage of local parks, trails, and other activities during their free time. Why has the e-bike become very popular in the valley over the past couple of years? E-bikes have seen quite a boom in the past few years, and it’s nearly to the point where it’s a 50/50 chance someone is on an ebike when you see someone riding a bike. In the Ohio Valley, many of the people you see riding a bike are simply using them for transportation and a way to run errands. They also have been popular with the aging population as a less strenuous and more fun way to get exercise. What is your favorite route to travel for a bike ride around Wheeling? So, I tend to ride the local city streets more than most cycling enthusiasts. I live in Woodsdale, (so) most of my rides tend to be a variant of a downtown loop, and tend to be under 20 miles. An example ride would be: Washington Avenue to the bike trail; through Tunnel Green to Market Street; across the Suspension Bridge; then a loop around Wheeling Island and across the Fort Henry Bridge sidewalk; At this point, I would have 2 options: 1) Out to 48th Street and back home, or; 2) Up Chapline Street and back home via National Road. Of course, Hollis is hoping to help grow the biking community in the Wheeling area, and he also hopes local governments will work to make the region more bike-friendly. What are the best and worst parts of doing business in the City of Wheeling? The best part has to be all the local support we get. People love to support local businesses in Wheeling and keep money in the local economy. Also, I feel like there are growth opportunities for businesses locally. The worst part would just be an overall lack of population in the area to support more niche businesses. Read the full article

[ultraheydudemestuff]

Cascade Falls Park

12795 Girdled Rd.

Painesville, OH 44077

Cascade Falls Park in Lake County, Ohio, is a relatively new park. The park features a 0.5-mile one-way gravel trail to a scenic overlook offering views of beautiful 60-foot-tall Cascade Falls. The half mile trail to the overlook is on the steep side with a few rest benches along the way. The falls with their 60 foot drop, are fed by East Creek which flows westward through this property before emptying into Big Creek. For your safety, please remain on designated trail and overlook deck.

    The parking lot is located on the north side of Girdled Road across the street from Girdled Road Reservation’s north entrance. When exiting the park, vehicles may only make a right hand turn to head west on Girdled Road.  Waterfalls are created over long periods of time and require soft rock (i.e. shale), hard rock (i.e. siltstone) and flowing water. There are many different types of waterfalls, depending mostly on a region’s geology. Most common types of waterfalls in Lake Metroparks include plunge, cascade, punchbowl, and block. Cascade Falls is a great example of a plunge type waterfall.

[whitepolaris]

Terrifying Travels

Some of the weirdest hauntings occur during the most commonplace of activities-traveling from point A to point B. We do that every day, whether we’re on a road, a bridge, in a train or bus. We’re always traveling, and rarely thinking about it. Until our ordinary, boring little trip takes a strange-sometimes very strange-twist. 

The stories in this chapter all have that strange twist. And if you’re not chilled to the bone, you’ll still probably want to buckle your seat belt. 

Our haunted places from the railroad tracks running alongside an old Vermont cotton mill to a San Francisco street visited by the specter of a disappeared debutante. In Indiana, Louisiana, and Ohio, bridges have been the scene of some frightful-and in some cases, tragic-events. Byways in North Dakota and Wisconsin have their own embodiments of the ghostly bridge who wanders about in her wedding dress, while soldiers in Civil War garb pop up in Kentucky. 

In Missouri, the gravel trail called Zombie Road has inspired tales of so many spirits it seems they’ve gathered for some sort of otherworldly convention. Then there’s the Bermuda Triangle of the U.S. highway system: the so-called Dead Zone, a fabled stretch of Interstate 4 outside of Daytona, Florida, that you may want to assiduously avoid. 

Ready to hit the road?

[dalehague]

Spring Draba. A tiny mustard, found growing on a gravel trail today, March 16, 2023 near Roseville Ohio. These are perhaps 1/2 inch tall, very small

[rainandandy]

Chemtrails (Yelena Belova x reader)

Summary: You and Yelena are finally free from the mind control of being a black widow. How does everything fare out as you both return to Ohio to start a new life?

Pairings: Yelena Belova x reader, Natasha Romanoff x Steve Rogers (Kinda platonic, kinda not), Alexei Shoskatoff x Melina Vostokova

Word Count: 1,862

Translations: Malishka (Baby), Krasotka (Beautiful),  Liybimaya (My Love)

Masterlist

There were some people who had the idea that being on the run meant being scared, lonely, always on edge. Perhaps that is how it should have felt. You just felt like you were free. Free from being used in any way. They treated you as if you were just another pawn on the chessboard as if you were just another number to them. It is a piece that no one will remember.

Yelena too. The two of you had freed yourselves and the others from the harsh crutches of being a black widow. A killer and a trained spy in all the fields that a spy could be. Sly, sneaky, conniving, and murderous. There had never been a time when you had any control over your actions. Never being able to be yourself. Living life on the edge, skirting all over the world in a number of days. Killing people without a second thought, because you weren't able to control your mind. You weren't in control.

Until Yelena came along. Till she abolished the control over your mind and cut the tracker from your leg. Till she held you while your body wracked with sobs of finally being free.

She stayed with you, helped you recover physically and mentally. Patching up wounds with medical bits she found in gas stations. Driving stolen cars and motorbikes through the darkness of the night. A new city each day, hiding in rundown motels on the side of highways. Each one of them smelling worse than the previous one.

In the aftermath of Dreykov's death, you would keep your eyes on the news to make sure the black widows left over weren't doing any harm. Once you both reached Ohio, where she planned to meet up with her family and establish a base to free the black widows, you both could be free. Over the long nights of traveling and the days of laying low, you went from strangers to lovers very quickly.

You weren't sure when it happened, but she fell first. A glance at you that was once cold has become a loving gaze. As she learned what food you liked, she would be sure to bring it back from her grocery store runs. It was something you didn't notice at first. She changed her attitude towards you suddenly and when her touches on your wounds became lighter and she began to tell you more about her life, you too began to fall. You discovered why she was aiming for Ohio in the first place. In other words, she did not want to be what she was made to be. Both of your skills would only earn you dirty money, and she desperately just wanted to settle down. You did not talk about children between the two of you, but you frequently talked about a dog shelter.

As soon as you reached a small suburban home on the outskirts of Ohio, you and your partner quickly went into undercover mode. Posing as a newlywed couple, with her sister who is a part-time science teacher and her parents who are coming to welcome the new family. In the morning it appeared like bliss to the neighbors, but really it was at night when the family seemed to sit around and play Monopoly that they planned their roles for recovering the last of the black widows. The rest of the widows who had been freed would come over under the guise of being friends, but Yelena and you would give them money and new identification provided by Mason, so they could start their new lives. The widows wanted their chance to live a normal life, just as you and Yelena did. Many of those who rely on doing what they know only too well, choose to work with Melina in St Petersburg.

In less than a year, everyone was free. With the last of the widows freed, Dreykov's remnants were abolished. You and Yelena were finally free. As soon as the word was given you and Yelena marched straight down to the shelter where she picked a gorgeous American akita and Yelena straight away called her Fanny. When Natasha heard the name, she rolled her eyes and asked, "Really Yelena? I hate that name. You know how much I hate it. In response, Yelena hit back with an infamous "HA!"" and Fanny had now become a part of your dysfunctional family. Alexei and Melina flew in and out every few months, checking up on both of you or on some wild mission to find Captain America. It was much to Alexei’s surprise the day Natasha brought Steve Rogers home, posing as her husband.

“Papa, you remember Steve. My adoring husband" Each word spit back as fast as possible while making sure Alexei didn't start a mini war among them right under their noses. Natasha was extremely coy at first and you didn't know whether there was anything more than just friendship between them.

During their time at the Ohio house, Yelena and Natasha would relax in the small pool that is located out the back. Their tanned skin became more obvious as they raced in laps of the pool against one another under the scorching summer sun. The whole family had a good laugh when Steve wore swim trunks with the American flag on them and then had another fit when Alexei wore ones with the Russian flag on them. “I feel like all my dreams have come true” Yelena said hazily as she kissed your hand on the lawn chairs.

“What dream is that Krasotka?” you asked, smiling as you didn’t fully take in her deep words. “I have my family back” you felt the strings of your heart being pulled at the softness of the girl's words.

She pulled on your hand and led you to join her on the lawn chair, sitting in her lap. As she wrapped her arms around your waist, you looked up into the clear blue sky to see a distant plane leave a long white trail in the clear blue sky. “What are the white lines made of?" It was a question you asked aloud. "Maybe the government is slowly poisoning us with Dreykov's toxic chemicals," she said in a funny way, but you knew it was on everyone's mind. What if he wasn't really dead after all. What if the dream turned into a nightmare and you were no longer yourself. Your panic caused your breath to quicken its pace, and you touched the beautiful gemstones you wore around your neck. Some eastern culture your therapist had thrust onto you, rubbing some amethyst and turquoise would help ease the pain of the memories. In a manner of speaking, it did work, as it eased the nightmares little by little. There were times when holding those tiny stones felt like clutching a lifeline. You desperately try to hold onto this reality with Yelena as long as possible. The blissfulness of it all. Yelena became restless after losing the constant sense of action that had been part of her life. The excitement of going to the farmers market only lasted for a limited amount of time. It was one of those days when the rumble of an engine and the smell of gas broke your concentration from doing laundry, and you were met by a gorgeous vintage red Chevy pulling into the driveway. The look on Yelena's face was incomprehensible, which made you hard to believe that she had just went out and bought such an immaculate, expensive-looking vehicle. The car was a convertible and fanny sat in the back, her tongue hanging out, panting in the golden sun, as she sat there. "We are supposed to keep things on the low down" you whispered to your 'fake' wife, scolding her.

It's time to enjoy yourself, Malishka!"

You knew it was worth it when the rouge on her lips matched the color of the cherry red car. When she opened the passenger side door, she motioned for you to get into the car.

"No no, I think it's time for me to take this baby for a spin". You pushed her across the white leather as you got into the driver's seat and sat in it. There was a soft white leather under your grip on the wheel. "Don't you like it, sweetheart?" Yelena smirked at you as you adjusted the mirror while Yelena was chatting. Upon turning the key, the engine roared to life. "Shhh sweetheart, you'll pay for this later" and you took off racing down the avenues of white picket fences, passing children playing in the front gardens.

Families who seemed perfect on the outside but you knew that each one had their problems. As you reached well over the speed limit, with your hair blowing wildly behind you, you felt as if you were at liberty. It was impossible for those families to stop you from doing what you did. You could not be stopped by Dreykov. At that moment, all you wanted was to keep speeding along the winding roads while Yelena put her hands up, grasping at the invisible air. She was your sweet love. Your happiness. She made the freedom worth it. The winding roads soon gave way to a small clearing where you were able to park your car on the side of the road. The engine died slowly, and her smile was beaming back at you, pure happiness oozing from both of you. Fanny jumped out of the car, her paw pads crushing the gravel under her feet as she jumped. She trotted around sniffing at the new surroundings. In the company of Yelena, you made your way to a small bench that overlooked a valley. The sun was looking low and heavy as it was making its way towards the horizon for yet another day. The silence was relaxing, settling over you as you stared out at the sky. Yelena spoke openly from the heart or perhaps her soul when she said, "I am not religious, but if there is a god out there somewhere, I hope he lets it stay like this forever.". The truth is, she was never one to think of such things in this way, especially in regards to god, religion or even something as grave as losing what you had. "It's not going to happen. We have made it. Nothing could break us apart, Liybimaya”

I know, I know, I feel silly thinking about it when this perfect paradise is all around us; but I cannot help it.

"There is nothing wrong with contemplating God…. or our paradise…. If you have second thoughts-”

“No. God no.” She took a deep breath and replied, “That's not what I'm saying. I am terrified that I will wake up back in the red room. That all of this was just a dream"

You scooted over to her side of the bench and cradled her against you and said, "I'm real, baby.". The sun set, leaving you and your partner in the darkness, the streetlight flickering behind you. It is time for us to go home"

[electronicgrowth]

Can’t Get Enough Part 5

Billie has lost her virginity! Where is this relationship headed? 

This has just been chilling in drafts... I forgot I was a person there for a moment. I apologize.

Summary: The two most stubborn people in Knockemstiff, Ohio have eyes for only each other. Lee Bodecker is determined to become the town’s next sheriff. He knows that image is everything. Billie Dechswaan doesn’t care about her image at all. All she wants is to leave Knockemstiff and never come back. But Lee has other plans for her. Both are far too stubborn to give up their own plans. What happens when they can’t get enough of each other?

Word Count: 2.3k

After losing her virginity, Billie can’t get enough of Lee. When he’s inside her, she promises him all the things he wants. But they fight about her wanting leave. She’s still adamant about moving away, despite her attack. Lee tries desperately to reason with her. But she won’t hear it. Lee feels his time running out as the days in June and July come and go. He makes the decision for them one day. He pokes holes in every single condom. He feels slightly guilty, but Bille needs to realizes how much she needs him. 

All the arguing comes to a head one night in mid-August. Billie snuck out like she did most nights and met up with Lee. She quickly slide into the car and kissed him. It was a Wednesday night and they hadn’t seen each other since the church service on Sunday. Billie had spent most of the time between services chatting with Lee, instead of helping to serve luncheon, and this behavior was not missed by the church ladies. 

Rumors were flying. Everyone was wondering when Lee would finally make Billie his wife. Many were saying that it was bound to happen before the next election. She’d be sherif’s wife by Christmas, the gossip said. Edna, the police station secretary made the mistake of asking Lee and relaying all the gossip. It got him thinking. He was going to broach the idea with Billie. He had to. He already had a ring anyway. 

Before Lee could even start the car and drive away. Billie was kissing his neck. 

“Did you miss me, baby?” He teased. Pulling her closer to him. 

“I always miss you,” she scoffed, straddling his hips. 

“I missed you too,” he murmured against her lips. She ran her tongue against his. 

“You know,” he began, pulling back from the kiss, “You don’t have to miss me.” 

“What do you mean?” Billie giggled, staring at him, “I always miss you when you’re not around.” 

“I mean, you could miss me less,” Lee said. Billie’s smile dropped a bit. 

“What are talking about, honey?” She asked. 

“If we live together, we would see each other everyday. Wake up together, go to bed together,” he hummed, kissing her neck between each phrase. 

“Lee,” she scolded, pulling away from him. 

“Come on baby,” he huffed, “Be mine. Be mine forever. And don’t give me that whole song and dance about leaving. You want to be with me and I want to be with you. I could give you everything. Just let me.” 

“We’ve talked about this, I want to be independent for a while,” Billie grumbled. 

“Billie, come on. We’ve been together practically everyday for months. Why do you have to independent? You want to get married and have kids right?” He asked. 

“Of course, I do. But—“

“No. No buts. If you’re planning to have kids, you won’t be working that long anyway. So, pick the right man to have kids with. Pick me, baby,” Lee implored. Billie stared at him and slipped off his lap. 

“I was up front with you Lee. I told you I was going to leave and go to college. You knew that going in. I should go,” she whispered. Climbing out of the car. Lee ground his teeth before he got out of the car. 

“Billie,” he yelled, “get back here.” He stalked after her angrily. 

“Lee,” she sighed, turning to face him, “I can’t do this tonight. I can’t have this argument again.”

He gripped the tops of her arms, “What is it? Why won’t you marry me? Is there something I’m not doing? Are you embarrassed of me?”

“What?” She spat, “Of course not. You’re everything I want—“

“Then what is it? I love you, dammit,” he shouted. 

“Look, let’s just take a pause. We can talk tomorrow. We’re both upset,” she placated. 

“Fine,” he huffed, stalking back to his car and driving off before Billie had even reached the woods. Wheels spitting gravel, engine revving loudly as he drove away. Billie felt empty. What had she done? 

The next day the county fair started. It was the event of the summer. Everyone was there. And Billie was avoiding Lee after their fight the day before. But he spots her. She evades him all night. He finally corners her outside one of the livestock barns. 

“What is with you? You said we’d talk today and you’re fucking ignoring me,” He spat, shoving her against the barn and caging her in. Billie refuses to meet his gaze. Tears quickly well up and spill down her cheeks. 

“Baby,” he hums gently, “What’s wrong.” His hands move up to cup her face and his thumbs wipe the tears away. 

“Not here,” she shakes her head, “Let’s go for a drive.” 

“Alright,” Lee murmured. They walk silently to the cruiser and Lee drove a couple of miles down the road before he pulls off onto a side road. It’s not really a road, more like a trail in the woods that farmers use in the spring and summer as a short cut. 

Billie has tears running down her face. 

“Talk to me,” he begged. 

“I’m late,” she sobbed. It took Lee a few moments to catch on.

“Your period?”

“Yeah, I’m three weeks late. I thought it was just stress or something,” she cried, her voice breaking. 

“It’s okay. It’s okay,” he soothed, “I’ll take care of ya.” Lee’s heart is beating out of his chest with excitement, but he schools his features and voice to one of concern and anxiousness in order not to tip Billie off. 

“What are we gonna do?” She’s fully panicked now. Lee can hear that she’s nearly hyperventilating. 

“Shh, baby. You need to breathe, okay?” He said as he grabbed her face and forced her to look at him. She nodded slowly, breathing in and out steadily before Lee spoke again. 

“We have to tell your parents,” he began. Billie’s eyes grew comically large, she started to protest but Lee cut her off. 

“We’ll tell your parents. We’ll get married and no one will be the wiser. It’s okay,” he soothed, “I’ll be with you when you tell your parents. I promise I’ll take care of you.” His eyes shone with sincerity. 

“What… what if I’m not ready?” 

“You are. You’re perfect. Gonna take such good care of me and our baby,” Lee hummed as he kissed her. 

“Lee,” she protested. 

“Come on, sugar. You’ll be my good little housewife. I can’t wait to see you get round with my baby. You’re gonna look so sexy,” Lee groaned, he kissed from her lips to her neck as he spoke, “You’re all mine.” 

“Did you— did you plan this?” Billie asked, shoving him away. Lee narrowed his eyes at her. 

“It doesn’t matter how it happened. What’s done is done and you need me Billie,” he growled. Billie opened her mouth but no words came out. She was stunned. She shook her head back and forth, as she searched for the words. 

“You’re a bastard, Lee.” His jaw clicked from side to side when she said that. Without saying anything he started the car and drove. Billie didn’t question him on where they’re going. She knew she was in deep shit. It’s only when she sees the farmhouse come into view that she starts to panic. 

“No.”

“We’re telling your parents tonight.” 

“Lee, please don’t do this,” she begged. But he didn’t listen. 

“I wanted to be nice. I wanted to wait until after we got married. But you. You just couldn’t accept the nice future I had planned out for ya. So, if you want me to be the bastard, I will be. I’ll get you pregnant. Make you marry me.” He cut the engine and walked up to the house. Billie trudged behind him, she had no other choice. 

Lee knocked at the before Billie even reached him. Joy answered. 

“Deputy Bodecker,” she smiled, “To what do we owe the pleasure?” 

“Billie and I have something to tell you,” he said happily. What a master of disguise he was. He made Billie believe, really believe that he loved her and cared for her. But he showed his true colors the second she stopped listening to him. And now he’s wooing her mother. Making her believe he’s a nice, stand-up guy. Joy’s smile faltered when she realized the Billie was with Lee, but she let them both in all the same. Lee marched to the living room as if he owned the place. 

“John,” Joy called, “Lee and Billie want to talk to us.” John huffed, but turned the tv off. He gestured for Lee to sit. 

“Clara, why don’t you go upstairs,” Joy suggested. Clara was the only one of the children home. All the others were still at the fair. She nodded and walked away. Joy sat down, but Billie didn’t. 

“Honey,” Lee chuckled, “Come sit down.” She slowly went and sat by Lee. He was quick to wrap an arm around her. 

“She’s nervous,” he said, smile glued to his handsome face. 

“What’s going on?” John growled at Lee. 

“Billie is pregnant,” Lee responded. Joy gasped. John looked like a deer caught in headlights. Billie started crying again, and leaned forward to hide her face in her hands. Lee patted her back. 

“But, I don’t want ya’ll to worry,” Lee continued, “I’ll do right by her. I care for your daughter very much. We’re going to get married.” 

John harrumphed, “You can take her down to the courthouse tomorrow for all I care. I thought you knew better than to open your legs, girl. I know you’re mama taught you better than that.” 

“John,” Joy attempted to placate, “Let’s not be unkind. Lee is going to make this right.” 

“I don’t care if he can make it right. Your daughter is out there acting like a whore,” John roared standing up from his armchair. He crossed the room and slapped Billie across the face. 

“You have one week to get her out of my house,” John said to Lee, who looked up John and scowled. Billie couldn’t take one more minute, she jumped up and ran upstairs just as Sylvia walked through the door. If Sylvia was one thing, it was perceptive. She took one look at her father and Lee and chased after her sister. 

“Now get out of my house, Bodecker,” Lee narrowed his eyes, but obliged. He would make John pay for hitting Billie. 

Sylvia found Billie crying in a little ball on the floor. 

“What happened?” She asked her sister. 

“Lee g-got me pregnant and n-now I have to get married and I’m going to be stuck here in this stupid town forever,” Billie sobbed. 

“Shit,” Sylvia sighed. Clara crawled off of her bed to join her sisters on the floor, she squeezed Billie’s hand. She wasn’t one for talking, she wasn’t good at it. 

“I thought he loved me. But he manipulated me. I think he did it on purpose,” Billie choked through tears. 

Sylvia stood up and started pacing. 

“How much money you got?” She asked. 

“About $250,” Billie answered. 

“I got about $50 left over from babysitting. And I want you to take that,” Sylvia ordered. 

“I can’t take your money, Sylvie.” 

“Yes you can. Take it. Run away. Start over.” 

“I—I—I h—have t-t-ten dollars for you, Billie,” Clara spoke. 

“Take our money and go,” Sylvia said, “Consider it a thank you for all the years you took care of us.” 

“Are you sure?” Billie looked between her two sisters. Both nodded. 

“You have to go tonight. Go to the bus station and get out now,” Sylvia started to scheme. The girls helped Billie pack two bags that night. They rounded up and pooled their money. And at eleven that night, Billie snuck out and walked the three miles to the bus station. She waited until five in the morning and bought the first bus out to Cincinnati. But she didn’t stop there. From there she took another bus to New York. She figured she could disappear into the crowd there. She could say that her husband died and that she had no family left. She could get a job waitressing. Or maybe she could train as a secretary. It didn’t matter because she felt free. 

After two weeks in the city, she wrote her family and Lee a letter. She claimed that she wasn’t pregnant. That the stress from telling them and leaving town caused her to miscarry. She said that she couldn’t face any of them now. But that it didn’t diminish her love. She refused to come home. Billie did not include a return of address. She secretly sent Sylvia another letter at her boyfriends house. It included her phone number. Sylvia would call her once a month from a payphone and then from the phone at the local grocery store she worked at. The girls stayed in touch that way. Sylvia secretly relayed the information to Clara and when Joy got suspicious, to her too. 

Lee was distraught. He’d lost the love of his life and his baby in a matter of moments. He shouldn’t have made her tell her parents like that. But he couldn’t focus on it too long, because he was soon elected sheriff. He was married to the job. Then he started getting into business with the wrong people. Those terrible men he worked with gave him an idea. An awful idea. He wanted revenge against John and he would get it. 

@greeneyedblondie44

@bxnnywriting

[rimouskis]

HAPPY END OF SUMMER OF SID (WEEK 1)!

I had a rather good start to @summerofsid , if I say so myself. Let's get into it:

RUNNING

I've started running again! I was a consistent runner when the pandemic hit, clocking around 12 mi/week in February (at a gym) and training for my first 10k before the lockdowns started happening. My journey as a runner is recent (I only started running in 2019) so it was discouraging to watch my ability falter and eventually fail when I stopped going for weekly runs.

Well, it's summer again, and the pandemic is winding down, so outdoor runs are back on the menu!

I ran 3 times this week, all guided and from a SUPER BEGINNER standpoint using an app called Get Running, recommended by @idontlikeem. It's similar to C25K, which I used last time I started running, but I enjoy that Get Running lacks bells and whistles; it just is what it is, which is nice.

I'm a slow runner, but I also wasn't even fast at my ~peak performance~. I am very short and have short legs, haha. But I'm not running for speed! I'm running because I can 😌

Here are some sights from my runs:

I kicked off my first run of 2021 by heading downtown and running along the three rivers heritage trail, which is where I did basically ALL my training for my very first 5k eons ago.

I finished this week's this week's training by running on my favorite biking trail, since I knew I wasn't going to be able to bike today. I love running on gravel, and the foliage was nice, even if the cow and bog smells were... kind of strong.

and, finally, I MET A FRIEND AND BOY..... 🐸

BIKING

No biking this week :( Sadly, today or tomorrow would've been the day to do it, and today I ran and tomorrow it's slated to rain. That's alright, though! My goal (to bike to Ohio before the summer is over) doesn't have a quickly-approaching deadline and cross-training by running can only help... right?

NUTRITION

Overall I ate decently this week! I went to Emporio for dinner a few nights back and MAN their veggie "meat"balls are DENSE and delicious. Also +1 for their crack sauce. Good stuff. I ate too much pre-made food this week, though, and would like to Spend More Time Cooking this upcoming week, ideally.

I've also started using nuun, a hydration supplement (also recommended by @idontlikeem, you're the best Lis) since I was feeling like garbagé after my runs and biking sessions. I THINK it's helping, but time will tell. I got the lemon lime and the strawberry lemonade flavors—they aren't as sweet as I expected, and I think I prefer the lemon/lime!

[citrinekay]

i'd kill for bill holding holden, whether it's while they're at home or out on a case. maybe it's the first time holden is so overwhelmed that he actually asks for bill's reassurance?

hurt/comfort my absolute jam ✌😭 For some reason when I started thinking about this prompt, the song summer girl by Haim came to mind. Obviously, it’s female gendered so it doesn’t 100% fit, but I like this verse especially:

Peer around the corner at you / From over my shoulder, I need you

I need you to understand / These are the earthquake drills that we ran

Under the freeway overpasses / The tears behind your dark sunglasses

The fears inside your heart as deep as gashes / Walk beside me, not behind me

Feel my unconditional love

Thanks for the prompt 💕 here you go: 

The hum of tires over endless asphalt drones into the stifled silence. Not even the radio is playing. Outside the window, miles of idyllic, verdant farmland melds into Amish country, dappling the sunlit countryside with simple, two-story houses, silos, and never ending fence lines. Bill might have appreciated the long, afternoon drive except that they’re trekking back over the county line to the local precinct in Millersburg, Ohio where the case originated. The killer had struck just beyond the jurisdictional line, creating a disorganized mess of too many detectives, police chiefs, sheriffs, and mayors fighting over the particulars of the boy’s body found in the river. 

Bill casts a surreptitious glance across the car at Holden who has been utterly silent since they left the crime scene. The hostile nature of the police on the scene - frustrated with the FBI suddenly traipsing into their jurisdiction - had triggered some kind of mental lapse, at least that’s the way Bill is profiling his partner. Sometimes he gets overwhelmed. 

He’d called the dead boy “Lubie” when the victim’s name was Larry. Lubie, as in Lubie Geter, as in Atlanta, as in a case that’s been closed for well over six months. Clearly, the rigors of their time in Georgia have not vacated his mind. 

The detective on the scene barked that the kid’s name was Larry, and asked if they even knew what they were doing on the scene, if they had showed up at the right place. Holden pulled himself together long enough to get through the details of the scene, but had walked away abruptly the moment they had what they needed. Twenty minutes into their trip back to the precinct in Millersburg, he still hasn’t said a word. 

You just got overwhelmed. This whole case has been nothing but mass confusion. Bill weighs the reassurance in his mind, but decides it sounds far too condescending. 

Fuck that guy. He’s a prick. Too aggressive. 

Do you want to talk about what just happened? Prying. 

Bill reaches into his pocket, and extracts a cigarette. He rolls down the window while he smokes. As the scent of nicotine fills the air, Holden shifts against his seat, drawing in a shuddering breath. He leans forward, bracing his elbows against his knees and clasping his hands over his face. 

“Are you okay?” Bill asks, the question leaping from his chest without forethought. 

Holden breathes heavily, his fingers curling anxiously through his hair. He shakes his head, but the only response is a wheezing sound that verges on panic. 

“Holden?” 

Holden’s head pops up, and his face is drained of color and misty with perspiration. 

“Pull over.” He rasps. “Right now.”

Bill puts on the breaks, bringing them to a quick halt just underneath an overpass. Holden rips off his seatbelt, and stumbles out of the car. Bill watches him stagger into the gravel just beyond the shoulder of the road, and lean over to grasp his knees. 

Muttering a curse, Bill climbs out of the car, and circles the hood to approach him. A summer breeze sifts across the long shadow of the underpass, cooling the anxious sweat beginning to gather under Bill’s collar. Holden’s panicked breathing is drowned out by the roar of the cars driving by overhead, but the shudder of his hand is obvious as he reaches into his pocket for the prescription bottle. 

Bill glances away, squinting at the distant shimmer of a mirage floating above the asphalt several yards in the distance. Until now, he’d thought the best strategy was to let Holden deal with the panic attacks in private dignity. He’s never actually witnessed one, let alone seen Holden desperately chew down the pills like he is right now, as if they’re his last lifeline, as if he’ll suffocate without them. At this moment, he’s beginning to wonder if he had been right, or if he’d simply been shielding himself from taking on that burden alongside his own. 

Bill leans against the side of the car while Holden paces back and forth in the gravel, his eyes shut as his breathing steadies. He focuses on his shoes while he smokes the last of his cigarette. After ten minutes, he clears his throat. 

“You good?” 

Holden’s pacing comes to a halt. He opens his eyes to meet Bill’s gaze, and they’re sharpened blue from the sting of tears, matching the indifferent, cloudless skies above. He swallows hard, the corners of his eyes glistening. 

Bill pushes away from the car, and shuffles closer. 

“You heard what I said.” Holden whispers. 

“Yeah. It was a mistake, a slip of the tongue.” Bill says, angling for a reassuring tone of voice. 

“That guy looked at me like I was an idiot.”

“That guy was a prick. He was just pissed the FBI was barging into his crime scene.”

Holden shakes his head, his brow creasing with a frown. “Yeah, and I’m representing the FBI. I can’t even get the victim’s name right. I mean …”

He trails off, his chin dropping towards his chest. He draws in a deep breath, an attempt to shove down the tremor of fragile emotion, but when he exhales, a soft whimper slips free. 

Bill stands perfectly still as Holden begins to crumble. He’s not sure what to do, or say. Nothing he could say right now could convince Holden that what happened is nothing to worry about and that he should just forget about it. It is something to worry about because Holden is still hung up on a case that ended months ago. 

Finally, he puts a hand on Holden’s elbow, convinced that if he doesn’t offer some kind of support, Holden is simply going to drop to the ground. 

Holden presses a hand over his eyes, masking the tears squeezing free against his eyelashes. 

“It’s okay.” Bill says, shifting closer. “I know this case feels like a mess right now, but we’ll get it sorted.” 

Holden sniffles, the sudden torrent of emotion unquelled by Bill’s assurances. 

“Holden.” He says, giving Holden’s elbow a squeeze. “Hear me?” 

Holden leans in slowly, almost as if he’s falling into Bill. Instinctively, Bill catches him with an arm around his waist, but Holden’s feet are steady beneath him; in fact, he steps purposefully closer, tucking himself against Bill’s chest. Tilting his head down, he buries his face in the front of Bill’s jacket where the layers of fabric muffle his sniveling. 

Too shocked to react in any other way, Bill wraps his arms tighter around Holden’s shivering shoulders. 

“Sometimes …” Holden’s voice wobbles hoarsely from this throat. He sucks in a hitched breath and tries again, “Sometimes, I feel like I’m losing my mind.” 

Bill slides a hand up to cradle Holden’s nape, suddenly desperate to ease his fears. He clutches Holden’s cheek to his chest, and lowers his mouth closer to Holden’s ear. 

“You’re not.” He says, “Trust me, you’re not. You’re just tired and stressed. This case is stretching us both way too thin.”

Holden sniffs. His fingers clutch tighter around Bill’s jacket, keeping his body pressed tightly to Bill’s. 

“Tell me again.” He whispers, his voice nearly drowned out by the rush of cars on the overpass above. “Th-that it’s going to be okay.”

Closing his eyes, Bill rubs Holden’s back to reinforce the thought. 

“It’s going to be okay.” He says. 

They stand still for a long moment with Holden wrapped up in Bill’s arms, clinging on as if for his life. The wind around them smells like summer while the sun begins to sink towards the horizon. A few cars fly past them on the interstate, but Bill can hardly bring himself to care that the random drivers might see two men embracing on the side of the road. 

Out here, there’s nothing for miles except for farms and a few scattered signs on the side of the road proclaiming: HELL IS REAL. It sure is. Bill thinks. He’s seen it, and so has Holden. They’ve been there together, but Bill refuses to leave Holden behind in the fire. He’d been wrong to be so cold and unaffectionate when Holden was looking for someone to simply tell him the world won’t stop turning because of one case, or in this moment, one slip of the tongue. 

After several minutes, Holden extracts himself from Bill’s arms. He wipes his face with his sleeve. 

“Sorry about that.”

“Don’t apologize.” Bill says, “I should have told you awhile ago, but I’m not just your partner. You can talk to me.”

Holden nods, a faint smile tugging at his mouth. “Thanks, Bill.”

“Come on, let’s get back.” 

They climb back into their abandoned car, and Bill pulls back onto the road. Holden turns on the radio, and rolls down the window to allow in the fresh breeze. There’s no one else for miles, and the sunset seems to last forever, it’s pink and purple hues swallowing up the lonely overpass and the last of Holden’s tears.

[ellies-cycling-notes]

Day 18: Van Buren State Park to Ann Arbor

Distance Covered: ~88 miles

Total Time (including rests): ~8:11 (7:44am-3:55pm)

Time spent riding: ~7:31 (Approx. 40 minutes of rest)

Average Speed: 11.7 mph

Apples Eaten: 2 (fuji - 5.5/10, fuji - 6/10)

First of all, you might notice that I did not give exact values for today's ride. This is because my phone had a malfunction on the ride, and I had to disable the app I use to record my ride, and as such, I don't have complete accuracy in what I did. The approximations given above are estimated from Google Maps, as well as personal guesses about start/end times + break lengths. I rounded down, assuming that I took shorter breaks, and the entire ride took longer.

With that out of the way, today's ride was another pretty bland one. Similar to how yesterday's ride was a straight shot West, today's was a straight shot North to Ann Arbor. It was slightly more interesting than yesterday's ride, though, due to a few unusual parts of the ride. Almost all the ride was on state/side roads again, but there was a 15 mile or so stretch on bike trails, which was rather nice. In addition, the worst part of the ride was a side road which was a rocky gravel path I had to ride on for about 5 miles. I probably could've found a way to go around it, but as I was in rural Ohio at the time, it probably would've meant having to bike off to the side 1 or 2 miles to find a better road, so I just went through with it. I was worried about getting another flat, but my worries were for naught. This makes it so that I have now gone the entire set of rides from Pittsburgh to Ann Arbor (the Ohio rides as I'll probably call them) without getting a single flat. Here's to hoping the pattern continues! (Knock on wood)

I went through quite a few road work zones on today's ride, but the cars around me were usually polite, so it wasn't too bad. The most fun one was when I was able to ignore a 2-mile detour, because I could just take the pedestrian pathway over some train tracks that was still available.

Weather was also pretty nice today. When I woke up and got started on my ride, it was in the low 50s, and even as the ride went on, the heat never really got to be too much. I did end up drinking more water than I expected, but yet again I was saved by the new small water bottle I've been carrying in my handlebar bag.

On the topic of my handlebar bag, I think I might be carrying too much in it. It uses velcro straps to stay on the front of my bike, but some of the velcro keeps slipping, and I'll sometimes have to take a stop for 30 seconds or so just to readjust it. It's never enough to be a huge problem, but it is something I always have to be aware of.

Design Notes

Going straight into design notes today, I have just one topic on hand. It might be a long one, or it might be short, in which case I'll probably have more to say about it later.

Overpowered (OP) Items

To start of, let's define what I'm referring to by "OP Items." These do not actually have to be items in games, but rather can be any game object which can belong/be assigned to a player (whether that be skills, abilities, items, or something else). With that, I have three categories of OP items in mind. Before describing them, I'll note that these three categories have a lot of overlap between them, especially categories 2 and 3:

Items that are just really strong. These are items that tend to break the balance of a game in favor of one player, or in favor of THE players in the case of a cooperative game. An example of this would be any high-level D&D equipment when given at too low a level. I will be not really discussing this type of OP item specifically much in today's notes.

Items that warp the rules. These are items that introduce new rules or reject existing ones, changing the way the game is played. They are often just situationally powerful, or give small increments of power over time. They may need you to be more strategic than those of category 1. Some examples of this include the "Fleet Logistics" and "Lightwave Deflector" Technologies in Twilight Imperium, which both allow you to take actions otherwise impossible, or the "Dead Branch" relic in Slay the Spire, which warps which cards are beneficial for you to play/have in your deck.

Build-around Items. These are items that are powerful, but only in situations were conditions are properly met. They require players to think deeply about how to maximize their potential, or they end up being rather weak. A lot of Magic: the Gathering combo/synergy cards fall into this categories, as do certain D&D spells.

Why am I suddenly discussing OP Items? I think it's partially due to my thoughts from the last couple of days, but I'm not sure exactly what lead to this train of thought. It may have been the games I've been thinking about, it may have been what I've been reading, I really don't know.

I wanted to give my design thoughts on OP Items. I tend to greatly enjoy them in games I play, especially those of category 2 & 3, as they provide great moments in gameplay when you first get them, or when you figure out the right way to use them. When they appear or are first used, it usually marks an important turning point in the game.

With that being said, I have a much harder time designing with OP Items. One of my first games, Atropos, which I designed with my brother and a friend, was focused around "Treasures," which were mostly OP items. But since then, I haven't designed many games, if any, that have OP items in the same sort of way.

I think it largely boils down to being a result of my approach to design of game mechanics, which I like to call "Spreadsheet Design." When designing, I try to organize and classify things using spreadsheets, quantifying attributes, and balancing things out as I work. OP items are harder to quantify, especially those of category 2 & 3, because how strong they are can ebb and flow. Depending on the game, you might have an upper and lower limit of what you want such items to be able to do, requiring even more restrictions that increase the tightly-wound-ness of the game.

In a competitive game, you have make sure that one player does not just win the game because they received/have a certain OP item. With that, one of the most dangerous types of OP items are those that spiral into more OP items as the game progresses. There's also the case of OP items which either are stronger the longer you have them, or have a set strength. For example, an item that gives +1 to all your attack rolls is much stronger and gets much more use if received earlier in the game, while an item that gives a one-time-use +20 to an attack roll is good any point in the game, but may not end up having the same strength if received early in the game, because you probably don't want to waste it then. This is why build-around OP items are often some of the best in a competitive game, because that means it's up to the players' strategies to determine whether an OP item actually breaks the game in their favor. At the same time, this could backfire, because if a player is going for a certain strategy, and they just happen to receive an OP item that slots into that strategy, they may run away with the game.

OP items may be easier to manager in Cooperative or solitaire games, but those still have the issue of possibly breaking the game tension that exists between the players and the game. Even those types of games are typically less fun if they become way too easy, to the point of not really needing to strategize.

In my games, I tend to not include OP items, because I'm not very adept at managing the flow of a game correctly, and adding OP items would just throw an additional wrench in that flow. And then, by the time I think I have the flow figured out, the game is too set in its design to really add OP items at that point.

I do have some ideas for games that want/should have OP items. For one, I think Characters, Inc. would do well with OP items, especially ones which warp the rules of the game, because while it's one of the games I'm most proud of, that's more from a coding perspective than a design perspective. At the moment, it's much too straightforward, so it actually kinda needs a wrench thrown in. Moreover, I have an idea for a game that kinda takes the "OP Item" idea to the extreme, being focused completely around getting items/abilities with game-breaking effects, and combining/making use of them to their optimal situation. In fact, that's something that might be able to exist in Time Loop, with the offset of OP items resulting in a higher chance of temporal instability or temporal paradoxes. But that's an idea for another day.

This is all for today. Little late posting tonight, didn't have too much to say about the ride today. I'm now resting in Ann Arbor, and on Wednesday I'll be starting my final stretch back to Chicago. Today's design notes ended up getting a little carried away from me, but I'm not gonna bother editing them, so they may be a little jumbled and I don't know how much sense they'll make. Til next time!

Previous -- Today's Pics -- Next

[spnskinnyballs]

A Secret Something

Summary - You and Dean had been best friends ever since you were kids. Now that you were both 18 and your fathers were hunting together more and more often it made sense for you, Dean and Sam to all stay with eachother and attend school while they worked jobs nearby. Two teenagers, best friends, living together, some newfound attraction and two scary hunter dads. What could go wrong?

Word Count - 1,822

Warnings -Smut, angst, swearing, fighting

Part Thirteen

It had been just over a month since you moved to Ohio and you were still in the same place. It was the longest you could remember staying in one place and it almost felt normal.

The only person who liked the stability more than you was Sam. The school had some kind of gifted programme that kept him late most days but he was excelling in it and you had never seen him happier.

Dean always teased him when he finally walked through the front door that he was making it all up just to hang out with a girl. Sam would roll his eyes with a flush to his cheeks and you would reprimand Dean.

It all felt normal and fun, like some kind of serenity had been cast over your little dysfunctional family and you had never been happier. Of course that happiness had nothing to do with all the time that you and Dean got to spend alone with Sam in extra classes and Mark and John chasing a never ending trail.

[[MORE]]

Today was one of those days and you completely revelled in every single moment that was handed to you. Wednesdays were your favourite recently, Sam had after school lessons and he had also joined a tutoring club so he didn’t find himself home until seven. John and Mark were always in the middle of a hunt by this time and today was no different.

Dean's lips had found the back of your neck as your keys fumbled in the lock of the front door, he loved Wednesdays just as much as you.

As you two rushed through the front door, your bags were dropped and jackets discarded. Deans loving, lust filled gaze on you the entire time. He was desperate for your kisses, desperate for you.

As soon as the smirk graced your face he wasted no time pushing you roughly up against the wall as his lips crashed into you urgently. His hands gripped at your sides, squeezing every inch before landing on your ass. He pulled you down into his crotch and you could feel his already hard dick through both your jeans.

Moaning into his lips you grabbed at his top pulling it over his head and throwing it away leaving you panting for breath. You pulled his face immediately back to yours, biting his lower lip and eliciting a low groan from him as he expertly undid your jeans. His hand reached into your underwear hungrily, running a finger up and down your entrance before pushing gently on your clit.

You loved him like this. Every time you made love and he held you as close as he possibly could, you could feel your heart soar. But when Dean let go like this and fucked you like he could never get enough, it sent fireworks through you every inch of you.

“You’re so wet baby.” He growled into your mouth, his fingers rubbing faster putting more and more pressure on your sensitive bundle of nerves as you started to clench around nothing. Your face contorting in pleasure and need as you tried to hold on. Pride washed over him as you lost control. At how he could make you lose control.

Lifting your leg up, Dean grabbed the rough denim still on your thigh moaning excitedly as you opened up to him.

“De more, please.” You panted each word gripping onto his biceps digging your fingernails into him scratching against him, marking him.

He didn’t have to be told twice. Leaning forward to kiss and bite at your neck he moved his hand lower pushing one finger gently into you as your walls clenched around him almost immediately, eagerly begging for more.

You held back your moans as Dean pushed into you back and forth before adding in another finger making you cry out his name and pull you to him even closer. Your orgasm building as he curled two fingers forward rubbing gently against that spot he knew made you scream, desperate for you to get your release.

His own cock was growing painful he was so hard, confined in his jeans. As though you read exactly what he was thinking you reached down and ran your hand over his crotch outlining his hard on through his jeans. Deans hips bucked up into your hand seeking out any friction as his lips crashed into yours once more. Ready and waiting to swallow down your cries as your whole body started to shake, your orgasm imminent.

“WHAT THE FUCK-” The words were screamed from the now open front door. Your entire body turned ice cold in fear as you jumped back into the wall, both hands reaching down to pull at Deans wrist forcing it away. Forcing him away.

Your heart rate picked up exponentially as you saw both John and Mark standing in the doorway. Their eyes were wide in shock as they stared at you both and then you saw it. Your fathers eyes were dark with anger and his face turned red as he stormed towards you.

Eyes wide with fear and uncertainty Dean backed away from you as well as him, holding his hands up in surrender as Mark landed on him. Your father’s hands found his throat and he slammed Dean into the wall. His face was mere inches from him, jaw twitching with rage as his hand began to squeeze.

Seeing Dean being attacked brought you out of your frozen state. Suddenly you were screaming at him as you leapt forward and your hands clawed at his arm, pulling it off of Dean with all the strength you had.

Dean's eyes found you, silently pleading to stop, pleading to just leave. Marks eyes never found yours, they never left Deans.

His eyes never moved to you as you pulled at him, begging and pleading. They never even moved to you as his arm finally left Deans throat, only for the back of his hand to slam into your face. Pain seared through you as your whole body spun and you were suddenly hitting the floor with force.

John took this moment to finally move. He pushed into Mark with his whole body. Both his hands curled into fists over Marks chest as they grabbed at his jacket, physically pushing him away from the two of you. John twisted and pushed and fought until his own body was a barrier in between him, you and Dean. A solid wall of muscle that wouldn’t be moved.

“That’s enough!” John's voice was a growl, low and a force to be reckoned with.

You could barely even breath. You felt sick with anger and fear, the room was frozen in a deafening silence. After a moment your brain relived everything that had happened and screamed out Dean to you.

Pushing yourself off the floor you clambered over the few feet to where Dean had fallen down the side of the wall. Both your hands patted him frantically before landing on his cheeks as he choked for air, the colour coming back into his face. “Oh my god, Dean are you okay?!”

He nodded roughly back at you, leaning forward on his hands and knees, choking to get more air into his lungs while yours simultaneously filled with rage.

“What the fuck d’you think your doing dad! What the hell is wrong with you?!” You shouted across the room, never taking your hands away from Dean as the anger swelled in you.

You could take him hitting you, as much as you hated it you could take it. Watching him hurt Dean though? It was more than you could take, more than you ever wanted to see. The anger building inside you was intertwined with a growing sense of guilt. How could you ever let Dean get hurt?

“He’s lucky he’s still breathing. You’re practically his sister!” Marks words were coated in so much disgust as he spat them at you both. He was practically growling as he attempted to get at you despite Johns solid frame not allowing him to move a muscle.

“I said that’s enough!” John reiterated, there wasn’t an ounce of discussion in his voice as he spoke with so much authority that Marks feet stopped forcing his way forward. His jaw was tensed, eyes set with rage as they moved to bore through John.

Your hands were pulling at Dean, getting him standing, getting him away. As his feet clambered and his body fell into yours, tears were swimming in your eyes as they fought against all the emotions within. Dean's eyes found yours, his head nodding as he immediately tried to reassure you despite the burning in his own lungs.

As Dean leaned on you, Marks voice cut through thick like gravel and sharp as ice.

“Y/N. Get in the car.”

When you didn’t move, your fingers clinging onto Dean as fear washed over you, Marks voice sliced through the room.

“NOW!”

You flinched at his voice, tears falling from your eyes as they tried to find Dean. His breathing was almost normal again, eyes finding yours as his jaw clenched. Despite the ferocity in the room, his hand moved to cup your cheek, thumb stroking ever so gently over the soft skin.

You soaked up all the love in the middle of your world falling apart, and then all of a sudden it was over.

Mark was moving towards you, Johns body still acting as a barrier. Marks hands found your arm pulling you away from everyone you ever loved as he moved towards the front door. Tears fell shamelessly as you shouted and swore, hands hitting at your father and reaching out to be saved by Dean.

John was now another wall, a wall in front of Dean. His composure had broken, unshed tears filled his eyes as they stared out after you. They never left your gaze, he could feel his heart shatter with every cry of his name that tore through your throat but he never moved his eyes from you.

They never left when you were pulled through the door. Never left as you screamed in pain when Mark squeezed so hard you could already picture the bruises. Never left as you were thrown in the car. Never left as you were driven away from him.

Dean stood there, eyes glazed with tears and teeth grinding so hard pain shot through his jaw. Johns arms held him back and he knew that there was no way of fighting. No way of getting to you.

When he couldn’t see you anymore, all the fight left his body and John finally stepped away. His hand moved to squeeze Deans shoulder as he did, his own head dropping and eyes closing.

As John left, Dean stayed exactly where he was. Tears stinging at his eyes as everything he watched, everything he wanted was ripped away from him.

[ultraheydudemestuff]

Terra Vista Archeological District and Natural Study Area

Tinkers Creek Road

Valley View, OH 44125         

Terra Vista Archaeological District and Natural Study Area is a historical landmark and nature preserve located off of Canal Road in Valley View, Ohio, on the edge of a bluff above the Cuyahoga River, north of its confluence with Tinkers Creek.  It is a complex of archaeological sites that was listed with the National Register of Historic Places as a historic district on May 23, 1978

     The trailhead is on the north side of Tinker’s Creek Road. Just west of the Valley View Village Church parking lot there are a driveway and a small lot that accommodates five or six cars. The entrance to the park leads to a 100-foot ascent on a gravel road. On top is old scrub field habitat with wetland remains of a sand and gravel mining operation, long out of operation. The area has been recently cleared of significant quantities of Autumn Olive. It is a nature study area with a butterfly loop trail, a fishing pond, and an old cemetery but no formally declared trails.

[whitepolaris]

Moonville Tunnel

Deep in the backwoods of Vinton County stands the Moonville Tunnel, a relic from a era long gone. The town sprang up when the Marietta and Cincinnati Railroad was built through the coal- and iron-rich woods of southeastern Ohio, in 1856. At its peak in the 1870s, Moonville boasted a population of more than one hundred-almost exclusively miners and their families. The Moonville Tunnel marked the entrance to the town.

Moonville wasn’t around long, maybe thirty years or so, before modern advances made such small mining towns obsolete. By the time the 1900s rolled around, it was all but abandoned. Many of the residents are buried just west of town, in an old cemetery at the top of a steep, winding gravel road. Both the cemetery and the tunnel are about as far from civilization as it is possible to get in this state-a full hour’s drive from Nelsonville or Athens, buried in the Wayne National Forest along Raccoon Creek.

Today all that remains of the town of Moonville is the small cemetery and the tunnel. Of the two, it seems that ghosts have chosen the tunnel as their territory. The only thing that’s consistent about the hauntings there is that they are said to be the result of someone who was killed inside. But the Moonville Tunnel legend is actually based on historical fact. Sort of. 

In one version, the victim is simply someone who ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time. Sometimes the person is a man who is somehow connected to the railroad, such as a conductor or an engineer. In other retellings of the legend, the person is someone from the town of Moonville who got caught on the tracks and was unable to avoid an oncoming train. In other instances, this person is a woman, and sometimes the woman is said to be pregnant. And if all of those variations aren’t enough to make your head spin, then how about the only version that names the person who is hit by the train? He is said to be Rastus Dexter, who is described as an eight-foot-tall African American. 

The newspaper article reporting the incident, in the McArthur Democrat of March 21, 1859, gives the real story, along with a warning about drinking too much while riding a speeding train.

A brakesman on the Marietta & Cincinnati Railroad fell from the cars near Cincinnati Furnace, on last Tuesday March 29, 1859 and was fatally injured. . . . He was taken on the train to Hamden and Doctors Wolf and Rannells sent for to perform amputation, but the prostration of the vital energies was too great to attempt it. The man is probably dead ere this. The accident resulted from a too free use of liquor.

The most complete version of the Moonville Tunnel legend is the one regarding an epidemic that swept through the town. As a result, the entire community was quarantined and trains were ordered not to stop there anymore. Low on supplies, the stranded townsfolk came up with a plan: They would send one of their own through the tunnel to the outskirts of town with a lantern. The idea was that as the train approached, the man would signal for help with his lantern. Since he would be standing outside the town’s limits, the thought was that the conductor would stop the train and help.

A volunteer was selected, and it was decided that he would set out the following day. However, the next day, the man got off to a late start (because he either overslept or was hung over), and as he neared the tunnel, he heard the train approaching. Knowing the conductor would never stop for him unless he was on the other side of the tunnel, outside the town’s limits, the man began sprinting through the darkness, waving his lantern wildly. Sadly, he never made it through the tunnel but was struck and killed instantly by the oncoming train. That may be why people today report seeing a ghostly lantern trailing along the track bed around the old tunnel.

One account of the ghost’s habit of stopping trains appeared in the Chillicothe Gazette on February 17, 1895: 

The Ghost of Moonville, after an absence of one year, has returned and is again at its old pranks, haunting B&O S-W freight trains and their crews. It appeared Monday night in front of fast freight No. 99 west bound, just east of the cut which os one half mile the other side of Moonville at the point where Engineer Lawhead lost his life and Engineer Walters was injured. The ghost, attired in a pure white robe, carried a lantern. It had a flowing white beard, its eyes glistened like balls of fire and surrounding it was a halo of twinkling stars. When the train stopped, the ghost stepped off the track and disappeared into the rocks nearby. 

A more recent sighting, from the Athens Messenger in 1993, tells the story of an Ohio University student named David and his three friends, who went to Moonville to swim in Raccoon Creek. On their way back through the tunnel, they saw a light halfway down and split into two groups. Two of the boys headed toward the light, then came running back out of the tunnel, screaming, “There’s no one carrying the light!” David went to check it out for himself. “He wasn’t kidding,” he reported. “It was just a swinging light with no one holding it!” 

In the years following the disintegration of Moonville, everything disappeared but the tunnel-and the legends. After the boarding house and miners’ shacks were left to wash away, the railroad took down the train platform. Trains continue to run until the late ‘80s, when the rails and crossties were stripped. Finally, the trestle over Raccoon Creek came down, making direct access rocks when the water is low. A ruler-straight gravel path through the forest and the ghostly pillars of the trestle supports in the creek are the only remnants of the line once known as the loneliest stretch of track between Marietta and Cincinnati. 

Despite the difficulty of reaching it, the Moonville Tunnel is something of an alternative tourist attraction. Groups regularly visit, and college students from Athens stage a Halloween party there every year. Charred fire pits and beer cans are a regular sight, and the graffiti that covers the inner walls get photographed almost as much as the distinctive openings, each with MOONVILLE written above its arch protruding brick letters. 

Today, as over a century ago, bizarre occurrences are reported on the old stretch of B&O tracks with amazing regularity. Is the lantern-waving spook just another bit of railroad folklore, or does something supernatural actually inhabit the legendary Moonville Tunnel?

Watch Out for the Phantom Behind You

In the fall of last year, a bunch of my friends and I went out to investigate the Moonville Tunnel. My dad worked on the railroad in his earlier years and was telling me about the story long before I even thought about going. 

On our first few visits out to the tunnel, nothing was out of the  ordinary. The next time we visited was a totally different story! We had already walked through the tunnel and were on the other side, walking down the path. Nobody wanted to walk in the back, so I, being the brave soul I am, decided to bring up the rear of the line, as long as one of my buddies walked beside me. So he and I were walking behind the rest of our friends when he jokingly told me to watch out for the guy behind me. We both just laughed, but I, of course, kept looking over my shoulder for the “guy” following me. Of course, nothing was there. 

Above five or six minutes later, I turned my head around to look behind me when I saw the scariest thing I’ve ever experienced in my entire life: There was a figure following us, only it definitely didn’t look human. I didn’t know if I was seeing something or not. I tried to say something to my friend, and I couldn’t even talk. I simply grabbed him and turned him around. As soon as I saw the look on his face, I knew I could nearly knocking everybody down in our path. When we looked back, the figure appeared to be getting closer to us. We kept running, and the next time we checked for the ghost, nothing was there. 

I am certain that whatever it is in Moonville, it is still roaming the woods behind the tunnel. I haven’t experienced the headless man in the tunnel, but I surely experienced something that wasn’t of the norm. -Letter via e-mail

Lantern Man Still Swinging at Moonville

All of the men in my family get together every year and go deer hunting in Moonville. We camped on the rail bed on the other side of the trestle. On the third night I was there, we were all hanging out and just goofing off. I decided I was going to go and scot for deer tracks. I got about fifteen feet from the tunnel when I saw a light swinging back and forth inside. I thought it was just one of my family members playing a trick on me, so I shined my flashlight down the tunnel, and all I saw was a light being swung by something that looked like a man, but it wasn’t a real man because I could see right through him. Then he walked to the opposite side of the tunnel and just vanished. -Anonymous

Peekaboo

In 1984, I was working at the Zaleski CCC Camp. On the weekends, we were more or less free to do as we pleased. Well, one night a couple of guys (whom I shall refer to as RZ and RM) and I wanted to do something. We had no money, and things were looking grim. Then, one of the R’s says, “Hey, let’s go to the Moonville Tunnel and see a ghost!” I had no idea what they were talking about, but after a brief explanation, I was in. We packed up our backpacks, jumped into RM’s Pinto and off we went.  

When we got to the tracks and parked, there were no other cars around. After a short walk in the dark (it was around midnight-I hate to be so melodramatic), we were at the front of the tunnel. We looked around, listened closely, and saw no one, heard nothing but regular night sounds that one would associate with the woods. When we got to the tunnel, there was no one else there. We felt absolutely nothing that would lead us to believe there was someone hiding there waiting on us. 

About halfway through the tunnel, RZ and RM started running. I thought maybe they were screwing with me, and I ran to catch up. At this point, I noticed they were looking over their shoulders as they ran. This was curious, because we were in a tunnel at midnight, and a few seconds earlier, all I could see was the opening at the end. I looked back and saw a train entering the tunnel behind us. I ran like hell, but something wasn’t right! We got to the other side and jumped off the tracks to the side of the tunnel. Then I realized what was wrong: no choo-choo noises. 

“Did you see that?” they yelled. Yes, I had, and now I looked back down the tunnel and I saw it again-a light in the mouth of the far end of the tunnel. It looked like a train light just entered the tunnel. I quickly ducked back, then peeked again again-still there! Duck back again, peek again. Gone! It was just gone! 

When we got the courage up to walk back through the tunnel, everything was normal. No more mysterious appearances, no more lights, no sounds of local rednecks laughing in the brush. 

What did we that night? I don’t believe in ghosts, ESP, UFOs, or much of anything else, for that matter. The only reasonable explanation I can come up with is that some local high school kids happened to go to the tunnel that night with a spotlight to see if they could scare someone, and we happened along. 

It would be difficult to hide while we walked past, show the light, and get away before we came back without laughing out loud. The whole thing happened in a few minutes. Still, this seems the only reasonable explanation. -Letter via e-mail

Cult Sacrifice at the Tunnel

I have visited the Moonville Tunnel many times and even camped overnight with friends. I’ve never seen the swinging lantern or any ghostlike creatures, but I have witnessed some type of cult activity. 

It was summer of 1992 the first time I saw it. A few friends of mine were going to party and showed a couple of our friends from Athens the tunnel. We walked in from Mineral, and as we came closer, I could see the tunnel had a fire built in it, so we were going to sneak up on who we figured were probably a group of teenagers. But as we were sneaking up the old tracks, we could hear chanting. We stayed hidden in the brush and watched the scariest thing I have ever seen. 

There were seven men, all in what looked like hooded bathrobes-one of them was in a red robe. They kept chanting, and they opened what looked like a burlap sack and pulled either a small goat or a lamb out of it (alive; we could hear it bah-ing), and they cut it open down the middle while it was alive. We freaked and creeped as quietly as possible back until we could run. We decided to run to the first trestle, where we would have to cross the creek. We ran there, crossed, and went home. That was it for us. -Letter via e-mail

[johnlorince]

Beginner MTB Trails Near Me in Ohio | Adventure Loop | by John Lorince