Pro Football Hall of Fame

I'd always wanted to visit the Pro Football Hall of Fame. I doubted I'd be this close to Canton, Ohio anytime soon so I decided to go a little out of my way on my route to Philadelphia to see it. Admission set me back a ridiculous $21 but when I was looking at pictures after my visit I realized I actually had a pretty good time.

Part shrine, part museum, the Pro Football Hall of Fame is in Canton because that's where pro football originated. In addition to honoring the game's elite with bronze busts, it is a collection of artifacts and arcana related to the National Football League and its forerunners, competitors, franchises, luminaries, superstars, and their feats.

Many of the items on display were worn by players in championship or record-setting situations. I particularly like an exhibit on competing leagues that failed to gain market share against the NFL and teams that folded . Who knew the Milwaukee Badgers were once a football team? Or the Columbus Panhandles, Frankford Yellowjackets, or Washington Senators?

My favorite artifacts included a football dating back to the 1890s, a Duluth Eskimos jersey, the pen LBJ used to sign the law permitting the merger of the NFL and AFL, the trophy that will be awarded to the winner of this year's Super Bowl, and the Green Bay Packers most recent Super Bowl ring.

Cuyahoga Valley National Park

Located in Cleveland's backyard, Cuyahoga Valley National Park cradles the Cuyahoga River, which flows downhill some 330 feet from the Ohio River to Lake Erie (or, alternatively, from Akron to Cleveland). The river carves a crooked, rolling gorge out of foothills to the Appalachians. Towpath Trail runs along the river, and offshoots lead to waterfalls at once delicate and forceful.

I left for my final road trip of the year on Friday morning. I made it as far as the Cleveland suburbs. Today, I waited out passing flurries, then gingerly made my way onto the highways that encircle Cuyahoga Valley National Park. The snowy conditions, which yesterday slowed my drive out of Wisconsin, today, I suspect, worked to my advantage: a lot of people stayed off the plowed and well-salted roads.

The Cuyahoga, once the spine of agriculture and industry, lazily curves in wide swoops. Humans have lived in the valley since 10,000 BC when nomads journeyed there to track Mastodon. Canal Road then Riverview Road jerkily follow the flowing waters as best pavement can a river. I stopped to see Bridal Veil, Grand, and Brandywine Falls, all spectacular. I also stopped in the town of Peninsula for a vanilla malt and at Virginia Kendall Park to take in the Ledges Overlook.

Most of the national park, which is intermingled with state and municipal parks as well as residential areas, was deserted. The fresh snow blasted the landscape with a blinding alien whiteness. The few souls I did meet in the frozen Narnia where all very kind. The park was far better than I'd even hoped. It reminded me that for all its hassles and discomforts, winter is stunningly beautiful.