2020 Deer Hunt Part 3

Thanksgiving is often one of my favorite days to hunt and two of my most memorable deer hunts have been on Thanksgiving.  But 2020 is not a normal year and this year brought a family Zoom gathering.  It was fun seeing everyone, if a little weird and also feeling a little like a committee meeting.

So on the day after Thanksgiving, I was back at it.  Temperatures were near perfect in the mid-40's and there was almost no wind.  After driving to Mike's I got out of the truck and was assaulted by the noise of grain dryers.  Yes, the farms are what produce so many big deer, but with several dryers running at a couple neighbor's, it was brutal.

Feeling like an opening day I packed my stand down in the dark.  The creeks were running from the all-day rains the previous Wednesday - luckily they were not so high as to be too bad to get across them.  As I got to the far ridge I realized that the creeks were nearly as loud as the grain dryers.  Whatever the source, this was not to be a quiet morning on the stand where I can hear a mouse squeak.

I tried (somewhat unsuccessfully) to quietly get my stand set up and got settled in the tree over a half hour before shooting light.  Even with the din of dryers and creeks, I loved the early dark morning.  I started to keep watch as daylight brightened.  Around 8:30 a pretty nice buck and a doe walked to the west at the far south end of the property.  I was hoping this was a good sign that deer movement would be good.  Not too long after I saw 5 does milling around the south end of the property.  They hung around in one form or another for over an hour.  But I saw no deer nearby.

I spent most of the time thinking about where to put my stand for the afternoon.  In the past I have chased where deer were only to have them show up somewhere else - sometimes even where I had previously been.  And just because they were at the south end in the morning doesn't mean anything for later.  So I ultimately left my stand where it was (or maybe this was just stubbornness) when I quit for the morning to head back home.  

__________________________________

After a dog walk and nap at home I was back at Mike's.  The afternoon was partly sunny and comfortably warm.  I probably would have really enjoyed the afternoon but I had a bonkers headache.  I'm not 100% sure what migraines are, but I'm pretty sure I'm starting to get them.

Not too long after getting settled I saw a few deer to the east in the little ravine.  They weren't in any hurry but made their way down into the big ravine.  Not too long after losing sight of them I saw probably the same group of deer from the morning at the south end of the property.  They sauntered around for quite some time, one even worked its way toward me staying just outside of an area where the brush thinned and I might have gotten a shot off.  I was regretting not moving my stand.  But as I constantly have to remind myself, I can't hunt the whole world.  I did hear quite a bit of shooting as the afternoon wore on, but I suspect much of it may have been recreational and not deer-hunting related.  The deer worked their way off to the east shortly before it got dark.  In a way, I was almost glad that they didn't come closer since my head hurt so much the thought of shooting and dragging a deer was almost incomprehensible.  As I made my way out in the dark, I heard the unmistakable thunder of hooves as I got very near the truck.  I never did see them, but a mess o' deer had been camped out right there.  So it goes.

__________________________________

Awake early even by my standards I rationalized getting up so I could have a (single, one and only one) cup of coffee before heading out.  It was the right decision, drinking it while watching TV with a sleeping beagle in my chair. While getting ready a short time later I noticed the soles on my hunting boots were coming loose.  They will be sufficient for now, but I'm obviously on borrowed time.

I got to Mike's - it was calm and damp with temperatures near freezing and just a hint of wood smoke in the air.  I stood for a few minutes outside my truck; mornings are the best.  Even if 2020 has been a screwy year and I've squandered vacation, I can still take in those brief magical moments.  I made my way to my treestand and got situated.  The caffeine from my coffee didn't let me get in a quick nap, but I didn't mind; I just sat there enjoying the early dark.

Not much at all was moving.  There was no wind so as the sun rose high enough to be seen just a hint of fog formed in the woods.  Around 8:15 I saw movement again to the far south, but this time it was a couple turkeys.  The previous year I had seen lots of turkeys so I was glad to see at least a couple again this year.  The turkeys were followed a half hour later by a single deer to the south.  It was moving quite quickly, and I was once again regretting not moving my stand.  The rest of the morning passed quietly with even the squirrels barely making any ruckus.  After playing mental games to stop myself from constantly looking at my watch I got out of the tree late morning.  I wasn't planning on going out again so I walked the south part of the property.  There were definitely deer trails, but I didn't see anything which screamed deer sign more than where I had been sitting.  Still ... I made a mental note of a few clumps of trees that could be used in the future.  Every year is a little different, but it does seem like the general movement of the deer has been different this year.  But if I hadn't sat in my normal tree, I wouldn't have gotten the really nice deer that I did get.  And regardless of any deer in the freezer, I have thoroughly enjoyed the time in the woods.

I packed out my stand and loaded stuff into the truck.  Indiana has generous deer seasons with the upcoming muzzleloader and late doe-only season lurking out there.  As I left Mike's, headed toward home, the air inside the truck was a little melancholy.  I couldn't tell if that was because I failed to get a second deer, or because I wasn't planning on going out again, or something else altogether?

2020 Deer Hunt Part 2

 After taking some time to get my deer in the freezer, I decided to also do a European mount of the skull.  Once I had the head mostly skinned, I knew this was the right thing to do since the antler bases were so thick that they looked even larger on the skull once the skin and muscle was removed.  Creating a European mount is a little on the gross side and this one seemed to be very sinewy making it even tougher.  But with just enough boiling and some work with a wire brush and a screwdriver the skull cleaned up nicely.  I'm not sure what I'll ultimately do with it, but it is a nice enough one that it will probably go on the wall ... somewhere.

Tuesday came with moderate temperatures but a biting wind with gusts around 20MPH at times.  Normally I'd be back at work, but with much vacation I must use before the end of the year, I'm quite happy to take advantage of a few days off.  I hemmed and hawed most of the morning about whether I should go hunting again and try to get a doe for the freezer.  At nearly the last minute I decided I would and quickly got ready to go.

Once at Mike's I got my treestand set up and was sitting comfortably.  It was sunny with a temperature around 40F.  The trees blocked some wind, but my left side was quite a bit colder than my right side.  I guess the wind is both a blessing and a curse.  In addition to making it feel colder, the wind makes it really hard to hear anything.  There was also a loud combine working somewhere to the northwest.  But I do feel a little more comfortable moving when the whole world is blowing back and forth.  Overall it was a fairly comfortable afternoon all bundled up in my snowsuit.

About an hour before sunset my spidey sense went off and looking to the east I saw four does making their way across the small ravine.  I knew there is less than a 50% chance they will work my after making it to my side of the ravine.  And they did not, slowly going south and west, safe from any of my handloads.

As it started to get darker the wind quickly died down until it was just a very light breeze.  The dark shadows played tricks on my eyes as I passed the evil few minutes when I know I should not shoot, but still could probably try to.  This time passed without any deer showing.  I climbed down out of the tree and headed back to the truck.  I could see well enough to not use my flashlight - I thought.  But I ended up sounding like a noisy clodhopper on my way out, seemingly snapping every stick in my path.

_________________________

After sleeping in the next morning, I headed out again to Mike's.  The temperature was near freezing with absolutely no wind.  I was able to quickly and quietly get my treestand up to my spot.  Then I got to enjoy that magical 1/2 hour of time to just sit there in the dark.  It was so still I barely felt like I could breath.  My mind wandered - I wasn't even sure I wanted another deer, so I was there in the woods at some level to just be there.  I realized that I hadn't thought about work, or at least very little, for over a day.  This has been the several-day break that I needed.

Squirrels started their hectic running as it started to get light.  It was cold, but I was comfortable.  The sun took a very long time to get high enough in the sky to see, casting long shadows to the west.  I kept a vigilant watch while listening.  The deer were somewhere else on this morning.

I did see a mink to the south.  At first I thought it was a small cat, but after getting a better look it was obviously a mink.  There are not many of them around, but this is the third time in the past year that I've seen one.  I was quite glad I got a chance to see this one while hunting.

By late morning I was squirming and walked the back part of the property before packing out my stand.  With a decent buck in the freezer the pressure is blessedly off.  I'm still thinking of if and when I might head out again; as I dropped my stand in the bed of my truck I was already rethinking the afternoon.

2020 Deer Hunt

 I took the day before Indiana's opening day off of work.  This was Friday the 13th.  The last Friday the 13th was March - which marked the beginning of the bonkers, crazy, insane year that is 2020.  I'm not sure it was smart to take Friday off.  I tend to obsess about deer hunting, mostly the negatives - about the weather, about how I don't really like the mayhem of opening day, about how the deer hunting in the area I hunt doesn't seem to be as good as it used to be.  I was also slightly over-caffeinated in the morning which didn't help.  But taking the day off did allow me to put up my stand the day before.  This is an extra intrusion right before hunting, and I'm not sure whether this is better or worse than the trouble, noise and sweat of putting up my climber in the dark on opening morning?

In marked contrast to snow and last year's early November frigid temperatures, the weather earlier in the week was record high temperatures.  Things had moderated down to more typical conditions.  So I did need to bundle up in my hunting snowsuit.  This made the decision to put up my treestand feel a little more right.

After waking up I stared at the clock for too long before finally getting up with tons of time to get ready.  The dogs were cooperative although the younger one really wanted to sit with me in my chair while I watched TV, but I didn't want to have even more dog scent on me.  I was out the door near 5:45 headed to Mikes.  Temperature was in the mid-20's which was tolerable with the light wind.

With my stand already set up I got my stuff together and hoofed it down into the woods.  I was sitting quietly with an easy 20 minutes before shooting light.  While I don't really like the fracas that opening morning sometimes is, the still darkness before shooting is one of my favorite times (and favorite times in life, frankly).  The night animals are drawing down for the day; the day animals are just waking up making an interesting mix of noises.  I thought back to my 2019 deer hunt and how different the world seemed now looking back.  Covid infections are skyrocketing.  The election from over a week previous is over even if not everyone wants to acknowledge it.  People are being told to do Thanksgiving virtually - and the last thing I need is another online meeting.  But sitting in my treestand waiting for daylight is just right.

As it started to get light I began to look and listen for anything.  I heard a couple squirrels before hearing the unmistakable scrunch scrunch of something else; it was a little hard to pinpoint the direction.  One doe was walking close behind me with a really small one following a short ways behind.  I thought about the bigger doe in front, but the angle was awkward (behind me to the right) enough that I wasn't going to try on a doe so early in the season.  After all the work that goes into getting ready for hunting, I wasn't in a hurry.

The two does worked their way into the ravine.  I heard more scrunching which I thought was the same deer circling in front of me.  I was mentally rethinking about the bigger doe when I saw antlers breach the hill.  Looking closer as the buck kept coming on the deer trail that originally put me on my opening day stand so many years ago thought, "I have to make this happen."

The buck was calm - he must have passed within a few yards of the does but they were headed to who-knows-where.  He paused about 50 yards in front of me to the right giving me a chance to get my gun up.  Taking a few more steps, I didn't want to give him the chance to smell me or for his deer brain to decide to go back to the does.  With a clear site of him I let a bullet loose.  I knew he was hit hard and he ran forward around 75 yards and stopped.  I fully expected him to fall over then, but he just stood there.  My ammo was in a fanny pack (don't judge, my snowsuit doesn't have many pockets) and I dropped another .243 into the TC.  Still an easy shot I hit him again.  He ran forward, stopping again in some thicker brush.  I watched a few more seconds, again expecting him to fall over.  Another Hornady SST was sent his way, although with the brush I figured (correctly) the chance of hitting him was almost zero.  Then I lost sight of him.

I was sure he was dead at the first shot, just not real sure he knew it.  I climbed down and reloaded and headed over to where I last saw him.  I didn't see much blood, so slowly walked in the direction he was headed - feeling a little unease.  After a few minutes I saw him at the base of a small cliff floating in creek.  If the bullet hadn't done him in, he would be drowned by now.

Working around to him I pulled him out of the water.  He was a huge bodied deer and while his antlers weren't very wide (inside spread later measured at just over 14"), he had some of the tallest thickest brow tines I've ever seen.  I drug him farther into Mike's property before resting and heading up to pack out my stand and grab my knife.  Back at the truck I took off most of my underlayers of clothes to cool down.  I laughed as I took off my snow suit and started steaming like a Thanksgiving turkey in the still-freezing morning.

The deer had my first two bullets, both fatal, within a few inches of each other in the onside shoulder - utterly destroying it in the process.  After gutting him I began the long heave of getting him out.  He was a big heavy deer.  That last hill before the truck gets taller and longer every year.

Mike came out and helped get a few pictures as well as get the deer in my truck.  We talked for a bit before I headed home and got him hung up in the pole barn.  Dave (fishing) has asked to see how I butcher deer so I called him and he came over to hep me process the deer.  I didn't really feel like I wanted to take care of him on the same day, but temperatures were quite warm and were supposed to stay that way overnight (with heavy rain and dangerous winds forecast, making Sunday's hunting unlikely even if I hadn't gotten a deer).

It was a long afternoon taking care of the deer.  The onside shoulder was devastated, but much the rest of the deer provided tons of meat.  I even recovered most of one of the bullets in the offside shoulder - weighing 56gr (60% weight retention which is pretty good for an SST).  The burger grinding had to wait until Sunday.

I thought about getting him mounted, but ultimately decided against it since I don't have much room and while a deer with a lot of character, he didn't have a great story to go with him.  It's a bit funny to me how that becomes important to what I think about my taxidermy.

Seeing as I still have too much vacation to use, I'm still taking several days off.  I have at least a day to recover to decide if I want head out to try to get a doe yet this year.  For now, I'm just thrilled that things turned out the way they did.

Shorty Michigan Trip - Corona-what?

 Not long after moving into the current house, a pigeon took residence on the back deck.  At first I thought it was an odd-looking dove as there are no shortage of mourning doves in the area, but it was clearly a pigeon.  Having moved from an area (although still rural) where houses were relatively close, to a house on acreage, I was a bit perplexed as to where an urban-dwelling bird may have come from.  More than that, I was unhappy that this pigeon had decided to crap all over the place.  These weren't minuscule song-bird craps easily washed away in the rain either - but huge emu-sized turds that piled up in the corner where the bird seemed to hang out.  After a few weeks of this, I snuck out onto the deck one afternoon and shot the misplaced bird with a pellet gun.  There was a puff of feathers; it was over quickly.

I've been wrestling with some of those big questions recently.  I guess this is due to it being a milestone year on several levels.  I'm only a month away from having worked at my company for 25 years.  After a bit of a rough start, things have arguably gone well.  But 25 years is hard to comprehend.  It was almost exactly 10 years ago when we started the process of moving to the new house.  I still remember what it was like to move here; I still love it, although the elation has been tempered by familiarity.

There is our good friend coronavirus - it has taken over the world.  I miss travel.  I miss planning.  I have lots of time for thinking but concentration seems to be lacking.  I have time for reading, but tackling anything longer than what would take a weekend seems incomprehensible.  While I dearly love the routine - sometimes too much - I miss the clarity that comes from disruption to the routine.  I dislike that current events is dominated by exactly and only three things:  coronavirus, racial protests, a despicable looming election.  I was in a bit of a funk at the end of February and the coronavirus gave me something else to think about.  But the subsequent (recent) crash feels like a slow-motion free fall.

I've been streaming Miami Vice since getting a real internet connection.  The show has held up well, but it is terrifying that I was watching it 35 years ago.  The music and cinematography, while still revolutionary, can be nostalgic in a very unsettling way.  Seriously ... 35 years ago.

I needed some kind of break so I contacted a few friends from Michigan and asked if I could stop up to see them for a bit.  I have no idea what the COVID-rules are, so I wanted to keep it short.  My mom is a bit isolated due to this so I definitely wanted to see her, and I was hoping to see my brother and his family if possible as well.

A few weeks after I shot the pigeon on my deck, I was talking to one of my new neighbors.  He mentioned he has pigeons that he trains for aerobatics.  Gulp.  "Are these valuable birds?" I asked.  That neighbor is now getting divorced.  I don't think in the last 10 years I ever saw his wife except in her car as I was walking the dogs.

This pigeon story is a total non sequitur.  But then again, nothing really makes sense this year.

Up well before light I took my time getting ready to leave.  I wasn't too keen on leaving in the dark, but I hated sitting around as well.  I also reasoned that I knew the early roads really well - of course so do the deer.  I was heading down the driveway right around 5:30.  Just at the top of the hill by the train tracks I saw a deer running to the right.  Body language was clearly that of a buck, although I didn't get too good of a look at it.  Be careful Beagle...

I continued on, motorcycling down roads I very frequently bicycle on.  I can see my eyes reflected in my helmet.  I do not like this.  Some creepy bastard staring back at me.  Once I notice them, it is hard not to see them.

But temperatures are near perfect and on a Saturday morning there is no other traffic.  With just a hint of humidity it is nearly perfect.  I fall into the rhythm of the road quickly.  The Triumph motors along perfectly.  I may be yawning a bit, but I'm really not tired.  I decide to tempt fate and ride ride past the area I deer hunt.  I see nothing, which isn't unexpected.  Once on main roads it is a bit easier to go faster, and the sky is starting to brighten.

I keep heading north, thinking about everything and nothing.  I'm also thinking about gasoline and bathrooms.  I didn't want to have to worry about putting on a mask to use the bathroom at a gas station when I see a respite spot for the South Adams Bicycle Trail.  It feels like a godsend.  It is a perfect spot to stop for a few minutes.  The trail looks wonderful although a subsequent search shows this initial stretch is very short - less than a mile.

Much like the trip home from West Virginia, I feel almost normal on the bike.  I am once again where I want to be.  I jump on the interstate and head around Fort Wayne.  Most of the rest of the day will be a slog on the interstate.  It isn't my favorite, but it makes sense.  It is starting to get warm, but the sun is nice.  I cross the border in I-69.  I wonder how often I-69 signs are stolen in an act of sophomoric humor?  I work over to I-96 - 69 upside down?  The road conditions on I-96 are terrible and the amount of traffic is nearly 10x what I've seen all day.  Thankfully I'm only on it for around 15 minutes.

I get to the address Mark gave me.  I knew he bought property but I didn't know had a house and he moved there.  It sits in a bucolic setting with a really nice large workshop which he is outside of, "Do you want to put your bike inside?"  Of course!

Mark shows me around a bit and we get to catching up.  It is so easy to instantly reconnect with him.  I meet his wife Susan who is a wonderful woman - I can see why Mark married her.  We eat a nice garden lunch before Mark and I head out on a bike ride on the trail which is about a half mile from the house.  The trail is an old railroad bed converted to recreational use and is mostly-packed gravel.  With virtually no hills it is an easy but nice bike ride.  With virtually no people it is even nicer.  We ride about 30 miles total.  

Humidity starts to build on the way home with clouds looming and distant thunder.  We make it back to Mark's and get everything buttoned up about five minutes before the rain starts.

Dinner is burgers with more things from the garden.  Chris stops over on his Kawasaki W800 - cool cafe style bike.  We all catch up for a while and it is great, although this is tempered by a thunderous headache.  Long past my normal bed time Chris heads out and we all turn in.  As I'm getting ready for bed the Arlo on my phone signals motion on the driveway; I see SO putting on the dogs for the last time at night.  All is well at home too.

In the morning Mark and I get to talking - mostly about travel, but conversation goes all over.  Too soon it is time to head out.  I'm grateful to Mark and Susan for letting me stay during a pandemic.  I work my way south and east, stopping to get fuel at the station I bought frequently from during high school.  The area looks nearly unrecognizable; it feels weird, almost twilight zone-ish.

Once at John's house we sit outside - coronavirus safety, Mom is just getting there at the same time.  John has made brunch for us all - I wasn't sure if brunch was still a thing or not, but it was great.  The crepes and really good, the scones phenomenal.  They had rescued some baby toads and we spend much time looking for bugs and worms to feed to them.  Neo is a hoot.

With overnight storms moving away, the day was heating fast.  I wanted to be on the road and I it was getting warm for everyone outside.  It was time to head home.  I thought really hard about heading up to where the shop used to be.  But it is important to remember that once someone feels nostalgia for something, that thing is already dead.  I head to the interstate and turn south.  The trip home is a bit easier with the first leg a slog on the interstate.  I stop at the same South Adam's Trail location for a brief break before continuing on.  The day is warm but breezy.  Sunny but low humidity.  I can deal with this.  The world is briefly normal.

Unlike the previous year when I came home from Michigan in a bit of a funk the opposite seems to have happened.  It is a mess-up year and I'll continue to miss real travel - while swimming in extra vacation days, but life is good if I let it be.  And I'm fortunate to live during such a monumental moment in history.  The rest of the trip home goes very quickly and I walk into the house to two beagles that are exceedingly happy to see me.

Coronavirus Crazy Trip Day 3 - Home (already)

Weston, WV to Home:  334.2 Miles

I woke again to a sticky hotel room.  I'm not sure why since the air conditioner was running all night, but everything felt damp.  No matter - it was time to leave.

We got ready and were out the door by 6:10AM.  We wanted to take advantage of the cooler weather; mornings are always the best.  I was prepared for it to still be a bit dark but it was also foggy.  The fog persisted, but decreased, throughout the morning.  I decided to skip any interesting roads and just make tracks for home, taking the interstate up to US50 before heading west.  Much like two days previous, traffic was negligible, but there was a bit more truck traffic.

It was a pretty morning.

And I let my mind wander.  Not that I don't have opportunities to do this during my normal routine - walking the dog, riding the bicycle, even commuting.  But it isn't the same.  

I really did need a road trip.  And golly did the mind wander, maybe making up for lost time.

It usually takes at least a day on the road to mentally get rid of the normal troubles of work and home.  That coupled with the late start and heat made the trip to West Virginia a bit more of a struggle.

The trip home started early morning (as it should), temperatures were very pleasant (even with the dampness) and even the scenery looked better.  Time passed quickly.  The dull headache I've had for at least a week subsided.  I was where I needed to be.  Compared to the last few months, it was a perfect morning.

What I realized is this was the first time since March when things felt normal.  No coronavirus, no crazy work schedules; I was on the road where I belong.  I didn't want to go home.  I wanted to turn and go another direction, any direction.  But this was all BS too.  As much as I might want to head to some distant arbitrary location, an extended road trip right now would not be the same as it was last summer.  All those little things that make road trips are either missing or unrecognizably altered.  I'd miss finding some local restaurant and not even question whether it was the right place to eat a greasy cheeseburger for lunch.  I'd miss walking too far in the early evening to eat a steak somewhere.  I'd miss finding some local novelty to look at, simply because I'm there.  I'd miss free hotel waffles saturated in cheap syrup.  I could end up a slave to hotel rooms.  As much as I felt normal on the road, I knew it wasn't.

We crossed the Ohio River into Ohio.  The day was starting to warm slightly and dry out.

My mind continued to wander.  I found it too coincidental that after touring a defunct asylum, I questioned my sanity for what the present pandemic might be doing.  And I wondered how many other people are going about the day-to-day routine in a similar state - thinking everything is fine but knowing normal is still a long way off.

It started to get dramatically warmer as we got closer to home.  We made our way to SO's work and I dropped her off at her car to get the beagles.  I continued on familiar roads toward home, resisting the urge - for now - to turn the handlebars in another direction.

Coronavirus Crazy Trip Day 2 - Discover The Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum

It was a fitful night of sleep, but at least the noisy air conditioner supplied some white noise.  Everything felt sticky in the morning - mostly due to the leftover greasiness of the hot previous day on the bike.  Due to coronavirus, we decided not to take part in the gratis hotel breakfast (grab and go only anyway) and ate Pop-Tarts in the room.  With ample time to get ready, I was slightly over-caffeinated by the time we left to go to the Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum.

We got there a bit early to get some pictures, but even from the road in front of it, it was hard to get good pictures since the main building is so sprawling.  It does cut an imposing view.

We met one of the owners and she took our temperature as a coronavirus precaution.  She said the previous week there was a couple who were sent away with high temperatures.  There was a tented area where we could wait.  Soon enough other tour goers started showing up for the Discover the Asylum tour which are the only tours they do on the day they have them and they last five hours plus lunch.  Gregg and Amy where the guides as they split us into two groups.  I was surprised how many near-local people where there and how many had taken previous tours - a few people many tours.

The tour started with a bit of background - notably there used to be approximately 300 similar hospitals, and the Trans-Allegheny is one of the few left largely intact.

We started with Amy as she led us through several wards.  Having toured several prisons before (here, here and here), overall the asylum was a little less imposing, but still bleak and restrictive.  I won't walk through the whole tour, but here are some highlights.

Nothing like Home Sweet Home.

Most of the wards looked like this.

Several areas also had large rooms.  These were used for various things over the years including recreation, large housing rooms, etc.

Several areas had patient art present.  The scary thing here is that I could almost see this on a wall at work...

I would occasionally break away a bit and see what else was around.  This scene was almost too eerie.  Which brings up one thing about the tour - it focused a bit too much on the paranormal stuff.  Not that this can't be interesting, but I was hoping for a bit more history.  It was only late in the day when it became evident how sketchy some of the history is with incomplete and/or inconsistent records.

Many areas of the asylum were uncomfortably jail like.  But if we were to look at a Venn diagram of mental illness and prisons, there would be much overlap ... on several levels.

Another ward hallway.

How restrictive the environment was is evident through the tour.

Another ward hallway.  Amy spent some time talking about the many trans-orbital lobotomies that were done at the asylum.  The affects of this can be restorative, but "success" was a sliding scale and likely rare.  What is unbelievably sad is that some people asked for this procedure as the living hell of mental illness could be brutal (hopefully we've progressed at least some since then).

Some of the central part of the main building is being restored.  The work appears well done and much of the decor is period appropriate - if mixed - for a facility that was in use for so long.

This was part of the Doctor's quarters.

The view from the Doctor's quarters was commanding.  

The asylum also had office areas.  What they are hoping for eventually is a mix of unrestored and restored areas.  Having walked through much of the facility, my guess is that complete restoration would probably be impossible in a lifetime.

There were several areas set up to confine patients either for their own, or others safety.  Probably both.

Although this looked a little more brutal.

They also had one ward area restored.  This does look almost pleasant compared to the decayed part of the asylum.  It is easier to imagine how this facility really was designed to help people and the difference to a prison is more evident.

While the rooms may not be pleasant, compared to what else was available at the time (restored to look like the 1910s), it probably was.

If you listened to the Lore podcast - this is Lily's room.  I wasn't sure what to make of the kid's toys (props?).  Draw your own conclusions.

Walking between buildings is interesting just to look at the differences in construction with age.

We opted for the box lunch which was pretty good and a much better option than driving somewhere to eat. 

Then it was time to tour some of the other buildings.  We started with the Auxiliary Women's Building.  From the outside it looks ok.

Once inside, I was surprised they let us in.  But to be honest, I'm glad they did.  Some of the opportunities for photography were too good to pass up.

This building had one of the few elevators in the facility.

But I think I'll take the stairs.

There were many, many bathrooms through the tour.  Most of them have only little in the way of privacy.  This has to be the worst though.

The Criminally Insane building was designed to be escape proof.  And while more solid than the main building, it was apparently escaped from many times.  It is definitely much more ... almost soviet bloc looking.

The door to the building was quite stuck and guide Amy had a hard time getting the door open.  I helped by jiggling the key while pressing the door and got it to turn and Amy wrenched it open.  I joked that nothing was going to keep me out of the Criminally Insane Building - while most residents would have said the opposite.

The building inside is in fairly good condition.  The visiting area definitely looks more prison-like (with good reason).

And here we all are dutifully wearing our masks.  Which does need to be talked about in this time of coronavirus.  Social distancing was difficult, but I was surprised how well everyone did with masks - even the younger kids.  While I may have sort of questioned the absolute safety, I never felt uncomfortable with it in its entirety.

This guy showed up.  So either it was an insane deer, or the overall area has gone through a Renaissance of sorts over the years.

Then it was on to the medical building.  This was the building that I did find quite creepy.  I was surprised that Gregg said it was used not only for patients of the asylum, but as a hospital for others in the area.  A few of us joked that we would have opted to pass on any treatment.

Yes, there was a morgue.  By records, there are about 1900 people buried on the property - in reality it is probably much more.

The remnants of an old steam autoclave for surgery.  In this context - it is horrifying.

We were allowed to go to the second floor of the Medical Building as well.  Condition was not good, but not as bad as this picture appears.  But water damage is considerable.

I was interested in how different wards had remnants of their use.  Almost all the hospital rooms had these same cheap hook/shelves.  I can only assume they were made on-site and possibly by patients.

As the tour wound down, we worked our way back to the tent.  Thunder and lightning shook the area, bringing an almost surreal end to the tour.

I first heard about the Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum about five years ago.  I'm not glad the current coronavirus pandemic has killed most travel, but I am glad I've used it as a reason (or excuse) to tour the asylum.  Overall, the tour was really interesting and a great photography opportunity.  In hindsight, and especially with such a long history, some context around 150 years of defining and treating mental illness would have been interesting.  It wasn't that it wasn't included at times, but it wasn't cohesive.

Even though the tour was a bit light on history, heavy on paranormal stuff, I probably would have been left wishing I could see more by one of the shorter tours.  The Discover the Asylum tour is done with experienced guides and it showed - both Amy and Gregg were fantastic.

Putting on our motorcycle gear was not something I wanted to do, but with rain still threatening, there wasn't any choice.  Thankfully, we made it back to the hotel just a few minutes before the rain really started.

Once the rain let up, dinner was take-out from Sheetz from across the street.  It was ready speedy-fast and quite good.

Coronavirus Crazy Trip Day 1 - Hot! Like Really Hot...

Normally I'm in super-planning mode right before a motorcycle trip, but for many reasons I wasn't for this one.  First - it is going to be short.  Leaving mid-day Sunday is weird and means no scrambling in the morning.  The weather forecast is less than ideal.  It is going to be bonkers hot, with the potential for summer thunderstorms.  But mostly ... "probably because you are worrying about everything we need to worry about once we get there," SO says.

I'm good at rationalizing though.  We aren't going to Florida; we're going to an area that on a per capita basis has 20% of the infection rate of our home county.  And as I keep saying, we need to learn to live with this thing.  I guess I just need to believe that.

Day 1:  Home to Weston, West Virginia, 332.1 miles

Sunday started out fairly typical, but after walking a dog around the block, there was too much time to do nothing, but not enough time to do anything.  So I bounced around the walls a bit; we couldn't drop the dogs off in beagle jail until noon.  Our normal kenneling place doesn't have Sunday drop-offs, so we were trying another place.  Since it was only for two days, we went top shelf and got them a penthouse for their stay.  Not that I think the dogs give an eff about the water feature (outside their cage), but it does give them extra walks.  We've only kenneled Tibbit once before, and she does need exercise. 

Eventually it was time to leave.  SO left with the dogs and I finished buttoning up the house.  The plan was to meet at SO's work to drop off her car since the kennel is in the same general area.  

I got to SO's work and waited for her.  It was already stifling hot with humidity to match.

SO got there and said the dog drop-off went well.  She got on her motorcycle gear and we were off.

It took a bit to get around the Cincinnati interstate before getting off on OH-32.  It only takes a few miles to go from suburbs to exurbs to rural.  Once in the rural area, traffic was non-existent for most of the rest of the day.

We worked our way east with the terrain becoming more and more Appalachian.  I checked the temperature a few times through the day and it averaged around 95F with a high of 98F.  I've been desperate for a road trip, so I was enjoying it.  But this kind of heat and humidity is challenging - both physically and mentally.  The less-than-ideal conditions did take my mind off the fact that we were traveling during a pandemic.  When my mind did wander in that direction, it was at least comforting to know that the infection rate was low in the area we were traveling to and through.

I noted the road toward Bethel, Ohio which oddly for a few days became central to the Black Lives Matter movement.  It also proved the rule that there is no invasion without a counter-invasion.  

My odometer rolled into a milestone of sorts.  Going to a lunatic asylum during a pandemic and hitting an evil mileage seems like a bad combination.

Running low on gas, we stopped east of Athens.  I think I chose the bro-truckiest place I have ever stopped at.  It was lousy with diesel bro-trucks and all of them ran like crap despite appearing relatively new.  Maybe I just don't understand.

We joined up with US50 and continued east.  I was enjoying the lack of any traffic.  We crossed the Ohio River at Parkersburg, West Virginia.  Looking down at the water, I was thinking it looked cool and inviting and muddy.

The scenery was pretty through the day and it got prettier in West Virginia ... to a point.  It seemed every rolling valley or quaint holler had some derelict mill or other industrial cast-off in it.  Or perhaps the heat and lack of food was starting to make me have difficulty seeing the areas own specialness.  We were headed hundreds of miles away to tour a derelict asylum so I guess I can't be too judgmental.

We got off US50 and took back roads for the last hour or so.  I was really hot and tired but it was still probably worth it.  The trees were our friends and in many ways it reminded me of our very first motorcycle trip to West Virginia so many, many years ago.

We got to Weston and ended up driving right past the Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum.  The building was impressive to say the least.  I definitely want to get there early in the morning to get some pictures.  I thought about stopping, but more than anything I wanted something to drink, air conditioning and something to eat - in that order.

We got to our hotel and SO checked us in.  I got my phone out and noted about 18,534 alerts from the new video surveillance system I recently installed.  Apparently high winds and hail will set it off - quite the thunderboomer had gone through at home.

Our room was nice enough.  I started to think about coronavirus again.  As of the previous day, all of Lewis County had 25 confirmed infections, so I shouldn't fret too much.  Right?

Normally we would have gone to eat at the steak place down the street.  But I walked down the road to get drinks and take-out subway instead.  If nothing else, coronavirus helps us save money.  I got drinks and a Dollar Tree since it was one of the only close places.  My bank recognized it as an unusual purchase and denied the sale.  Having a card denied at Dollar Tree is a pretty solid way to feel low rent.

Back at the room, the subway was good.  The cookies were good.  A crazy adventure during a pandemic was good.