By Ruth A. Ringelstetter
We’ve known for many years about the tobacco advertising on the buildings around the railroad tracks in Edgerton, Wisconsin. Edgerton became the center of tobacco growing in Southern Wisconsin when dozens of warehouses were built in the late 1800s to early 1900s.
On Labor Day, 2011, we decided to spend the day photographing locally. Our first photos were of things on our list around Madison, Wisconsin. Often, we do this when we read in the paper that some historic business is closing or is in danger of being torn down. Such was the case on this day. But we finished in town early and decided to hit the highway and head for tobacco country to the south.
As we cruised down Highway 51 towards Stoughton, I was looking down at my notebook and the map, as I am often doing, trying to formulate a plan. And suddenly, Joann braked hard and told me to “hold on.” She was going to take the first opportunity to make a U-turn, but she didn’t tell me why. When I asked what I had missed, she told me that she had seen the word “CHEW” on the end of an old tobacco barn.
Well! All these years we had been discussing how odd it was that we didn’t find any tobacco ads on barns around southern Wisconsin, especially considering it had been the state's center of tobacco growing. And now, here was one that had been hiding for years beneath a coat of white paint. And it was along a state highway, which is where we had found them in our travels in other states.
We took a few photos and then continued on our way. As we drove the highway, we discussed that we should get the photos processed soon and report this find to the Mail Pouch Barnstormers group, which tracks all the Mail Pouch signs and their locations across the country.
For some reason, Joann didn’t get around to processing the photos and we didn’t revisit this barn until March 2017 when we were running an errand to Stoughton. Even though it wasn’t our normal route, we decided to take the highway again to check on the barn and snap a few photos.
After we finished our errand in Stoughton, we talked about taking a different route home, but something made us decide to go back up the highway. And boy, are we ever glad we did!
As we approached the location of the barn, we saw what we had missed driving south -- a large Mail Pouch ad painted on the long side of the barn. In the years since our last visit, more of the paint had flaked off all sides of the barn and this sign could be plainly seen. Again, we discussed that we really needed to report this to the Mail Pouch Barnstormers. But somehow, life always seems to get in the way.
We visited the barn again in January 2019 to check on its status and to get some pictures in the snow. Luckily, the barn has a relatively new roof, but hadn’t been repainted to cover up the signs. We took more photos of both the end of the barn, which had the words “Chew Mail Pouch Tobacco” and the long side of the barn, which had the words “Mail Pouch” in large letters.
We feel the need to get as many photos as possible in case something happens to the barn. It might get torn down since it doesn’t appear to be used, or it might get painted over and the sign would again be hidden as it had been for many years.
This also makes us feel like we should travel more of the highways around the tobacco towns in southern Wisconsin. What if there are other barns like this one? We usually try to stick to the backroads in our travels because highways are getting so dangerous and wide shoulders often aren’t available, but this sign definitely piqued our interest.
We know tobacco was grown in many counties of southern Wisconsin, so as you travel around on Wisconsin highways, keep an eye out for Mail Pouch advertising signs bleeding through on any old barns or buildings. If you find one, please let us know. And now that we finally have all the photos of this barn processed, we’ll be sure to let the Barnstormers know.
Happy Shunpiking!
Ruth
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Shunpiking To Heaven Backroads Blog
Showing posts with label Mail Pouch Tobacco. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mail Pouch Tobacco. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 4, 2019
Sunday, May 27, 2012
A Kentucky Mail Pouch Barn (With A Bonus)
By Ruth A Ringelstetter
In May of 2010, our return trip from North Carolina did not follow the most direct path. It followed a path that would take us past several famous mills. We first visited Mabry Mill on the Blue Ridge Parkway, and then we stopped at Glade Creek Mill in West Virginia. After these stops, our route would take us through parts of Kentucky we had not been to before.
Along the route, we found a Mail Pouch barn where the signs had been repainted. The original signs were too faded for the lettering to be refreshed exactly, but it is still a cool old barn.
This barn had the advertising for Mail Pouch Tobacco on one end and one side. It’s interesting to visit these barns and see the different variations. Some have the ad on one side, some on two, and one in West Virginia has been reported as having an ad on all four sides.
By the time we stopped at this barn there was a light rain starting and as Joann took photos of the barn, a donkey came from behind the barn.
This donkey had one ear that would flop down, and Joann was lining up her shots and then whistling, snapping her finger, and dancing around to try to get both of the donkey’s ears up for the picture. Sometimes she was lucky enough to get both ears up and the picture snapped before the one ear flopped down again.
The barn also boasts a quilt square. Quilt squares on barns were started by Donna Sue Groves in Adams County, Ohio. Today there are at least 27 states with Quilt Barn Trails. The quilt square on this barn is a double wedding ring pattern.
We couldn’t help but wonder if the donkey was aware of the picturesque setting in which he was grazing. Both Mail Pouch barns and Quilt Barns draw tourists and photographers. He probably just enjoys the company.
What we enjoy is hunting up these barns. In our area, quilt barns are easier to find, but we really enjoy our trips to states that have Mail Pouch barns. We try to hit as many as we can on those trips.
As the Mail Pouch ads fade and the barns fall, they are becoming harder to find. When you’re out on the backroads, enjoy any of these barns you find. You never know how long they will be standing.
Happy Shunpiking!
Ruth
In May of 2010, our return trip from North Carolina did not follow the most direct path. It followed a path that would take us past several famous mills. We first visited Mabry Mill on the Blue Ridge Parkway, and then we stopped at Glade Creek Mill in West Virginia. After these stops, our route would take us through parts of Kentucky we had not been to before.
Along the route, we found a Mail Pouch barn where the signs had been repainted. The original signs were too faded for the lettering to be refreshed exactly, but it is still a cool old barn.
This barn had the advertising for Mail Pouch Tobacco on one end and one side. It’s interesting to visit these barns and see the different variations. Some have the ad on one side, some on two, and one in West Virginia has been reported as having an ad on all four sides.
By the time we stopped at this barn there was a light rain starting and as Joann took photos of the barn, a donkey came from behind the barn.
This donkey had one ear that would flop down, and Joann was lining up her shots and then whistling, snapping her finger, and dancing around to try to get both of the donkey’s ears up for the picture. Sometimes she was lucky enough to get both ears up and the picture snapped before the one ear flopped down again.
The barn also boasts a quilt square. Quilt squares on barns were started by Donna Sue Groves in Adams County, Ohio. Today there are at least 27 states with Quilt Barn Trails. The quilt square on this barn is a double wedding ring pattern.
We couldn’t help but wonder if the donkey was aware of the picturesque setting in which he was grazing. Both Mail Pouch barns and Quilt Barns draw tourists and photographers. He probably just enjoys the company.
What we enjoy is hunting up these barns. In our area, quilt barns are easier to find, but we really enjoy our trips to states that have Mail Pouch barns. We try to hit as many as we can on those trips.
As the Mail Pouch ads fade and the barns fall, they are becoming harder to find. When you’re out on the backroads, enjoy any of these barns you find. You never know how long they will be standing.
Happy Shunpiking!
Ruth
Sunday, February 5, 2012
On the Way to Ohio
By Ruth A. Ringelstetter
As I plan our photography trips, I am always on the lookout for places to stop and take a break on the way. Illinois is usually on the list, since we can’t get to many places without venturing into Illinois.
In 2009, our planned destination was southern Ohio. That meant planning places to stop across Illinois and Indiana. We got a late start on this trip due to some unexpected early morning car trouble, but finally we got on the road around 11 AM (a very late start, if you know us at all).
Our first stop in rural Illinois was an old stone barn. Stone barns in this part of the country are hard to find, so whenever we have the chance to stop at one, we take it.
Another barn we’ve stopped at several times is a barn we had seen as we passed it on the interstate. Finding it on the backroads was a little harder, and the couple of times we hunted it up, we thought we must have taken a wrong turn until we finally stumbled upon it.
After the stop at the stone barn, we got back on the highway and headed east. At a small town called Mansfield, we saw a sign that advertised “General Store” and pointed off the highway. Never ones to pass up a general store, we veered off the highway and into town.
It was quiet on the downtown street with the general store, but luckily the store was open. The old door had several antique advertising signs on it, and the inside still had the old wooden floors and a vintage cooler section.
After chatting with the store’s owner and buying a couple of sodas for the road, we went back to the car and headed down the highway.
Another planned stop was a small town we had visited on a previous trip. The main highway runs along the edge of town and along the highway sits an old depot and an old farmstead with a Mail Pouch Tobacco barn.
The depot has many interesting details, and Joann spent some time photographing the doors and architectural details.
The depot is unpainted, and the wood is varying shades of brown, making all of the details of the building that much more interesting.
Hidden off the main highway is an old Bull Durham advertising sign. We had to ask a local to find out the location of the sign. When we know something is in town, but we aren’t sure where it is, we’re always glad to find someone who knows.
By now the sun was setting and we were getting tired. We had intended to get quite a ways into Indiana that first day but, due to our late start, we only made it just across the border. So we had to hunt up a motel in the dark. This is never the best situation, but we have to do what we have to do sometimes just to find a place to fall into bed.
Early the next morning, we hit the road. We decided to take the historic National Road. It would allow us to make pretty good time, yet keep us off of the interstate. We kept our eyes on the old buildings we passed for unique architectural details.
Joann loves old doorknobs and keyholes, so we always have to watch for old doors that may have possibilities. I keep my binoculars handy, so if we see a possibility, she can slow down or pull over and I can check out the door.
The old barns we find are almost always just stumbled on. There are very few sites that document old barns or give away their locations. We love old barns with interesting details, like this barn with unusual cupolas.
Right before we reached Ohio, we made one last stop at an abandoned farm, where I had a short conversation with a local cop.
No matter where we’re headed, we can always find interesting things along the way. On your next trip, pay close attention and see what you find.
Happy Shunpiking!
Ruth
As I plan our photography trips, I am always on the lookout for places to stop and take a break on the way. Illinois is usually on the list, since we can’t get to many places without venturing into Illinois.
In 2009, our planned destination was southern Ohio. That meant planning places to stop across Illinois and Indiana. We got a late start on this trip due to some unexpected early morning car trouble, but finally we got on the road around 11 AM (a very late start, if you know us at all).
Our first stop in rural Illinois was an old stone barn. Stone barns in this part of the country are hard to find, so whenever we have the chance to stop at one, we take it.
Another barn we’ve stopped at several times is a barn we had seen as we passed it on the interstate. Finding it on the backroads was a little harder, and the couple of times we hunted it up, we thought we must have taken a wrong turn until we finally stumbled upon it.
After the stop at the stone barn, we got back on the highway and headed east. At a small town called Mansfield, we saw a sign that advertised “General Store” and pointed off the highway. Never ones to pass up a general store, we veered off the highway and into town.
It was quiet on the downtown street with the general store, but luckily the store was open. The old door had several antique advertising signs on it, and the inside still had the old wooden floors and a vintage cooler section.
After chatting with the store’s owner and buying a couple of sodas for the road, we went back to the car and headed down the highway.
Another planned stop was a small town we had visited on a previous trip. The main highway runs along the edge of town and along the highway sits an old depot and an old farmstead with a Mail Pouch Tobacco barn.
The depot has many interesting details, and Joann spent some time photographing the doors and architectural details.
The depot is unpainted, and the wood is varying shades of brown, making all of the details of the building that much more interesting.
Hidden off the main highway is an old Bull Durham advertising sign. We had to ask a local to find out the location of the sign. When we know something is in town, but we aren’t sure where it is, we’re always glad to find someone who knows.
By now the sun was setting and we were getting tired. We had intended to get quite a ways into Indiana that first day but, due to our late start, we only made it just across the border. So we had to hunt up a motel in the dark. This is never the best situation, but we have to do what we have to do sometimes just to find a place to fall into bed.
Early the next morning, we hit the road. We decided to take the historic National Road. It would allow us to make pretty good time, yet keep us off of the interstate. We kept our eyes on the old buildings we passed for unique architectural details.
Joann loves old doorknobs and keyholes, so we always have to watch for old doors that may have possibilities. I keep my binoculars handy, so if we see a possibility, she can slow down or pull over and I can check out the door.
The old barns we find are almost always just stumbled on. There are very few sites that document old barns or give away their locations. We love old barns with interesting details, like this barn with unusual cupolas.
Right before we reached Ohio, we made one last stop at an abandoned farm, where I had a short conversation with a local cop.
No matter where we’re headed, we can always find interesting things along the way. On your next trip, pay close attention and see what you find.
Happy Shunpiking!
Ruth
Sunday, February 28, 2010
One Little, Two Little, Three Little Amish Kids
By Joann M. Ringelstetter
As Ruth and I prepare for our annual “hard-core” photography trip, I am reminded of last year’s trip to the Ohio River Valley. There were so many wonderful rural scenes to discover, but we were also on a mission to capture as many Mail Pouch Tobacco barns as we could during the 8-day trip.
Ruth had done hundreds of hours of research prior to our departure, and she brought along a 40-pound bag of research materials to prove it. She had meticulously marked our Ohio Atlas & Gazetteer with highlighters, sticky notes, and sticky arrows so that we could locate the subjects quickly and efficiently.
One morning we were heading down the road and she said, “Okay, coming up in about a mile is another Mail Pouch Barn.” As we came close to it, we could see that there were a couple of modern pole sheds in front of the old Mail Pouch barn and there was no way to avoid getting them in the picture unless we went down the driveway. So we decided to stop and ask permission.
When we drove in the driveway, we discovered that an Amish family lived there. The father was working near the front porch of the house. Across the driveway from the porch was an empty vegetable stand that would be used in the summer to sell the vegetables they raised. And inside the vegetable stand were three young children, climbing around in the wooden bins of the stand. And, as all older siblings do, the boy, who appeared to be about four, was picking on his two little sisters.
“Rupert!” the dad hollered, but Rupert paid no attention.
“Rupert!” the dad hollered again as he headed towards the vegetable stand. And then he finished his scolding in German as he physically pulled the kids apart from their fighting. When the commotion had ceased, I asked politely if I could go down by the barn to photograph it. The man said I could and then I confirmed that no pictures could be taken of the children. After all, they were very cute in their traditional Amish clothes - blue shirt, black pants, suspenders, and a straw hat for the boy; plain colored dresses and bonnets for the girls.
I carried my tripod and camera down the driveway to the barn and set up in front of a wooden fence to capture the faded old Mail Pouch barn. As I studied the scene and took my photographs, I sensed that I was being watched. So I turned to the left and looked behind me. Sure enough, the three little Amish kids were behind the fence, leaning on it and watching me intently. So I thought I would try to strike up a conversation.
“Do you have a dog?” I asked. In our travels we’ve noticed that almost every Amish family has at least one dog.
They just stood there looking at me. So I tried something else.
“How old are you?” Still no response -- too shy, maybe.
As I continued to photograph, I started thinking about how their father had spoken to Rupert in German. Hmm, maybe that’s what they’re used to, but I don’t speak German. I wasn’t ready to give up yet, so I turned to the left again to try something else, but they were gone. Then I turned to the right and looked behind me and there they were -- three little Amish faces peering through the fence at me. Oh, how I wish I could have captured that, but I do respect their ways.
“How old are you?” I asked Rupert again. And then I put up my fingers one at a time until I reached four fingers, and raised my eyebrows in a questioning look. A big smile spread across Rupert’s face. He nodded in agreement. Then I pointed to the oldest girl with a questioning look. Rupert put up one finger, then two, with an impish grin on his face. And then his sister slugged him in the arm and put up three fingers. I responded with an understanding nod. Then I pointed to the youngest girl and I held up one, then two fingers. They all nodded a big YES!
As I walked back to the house with the three little Amish children close behind, I couldn’t help but have a big smile on my own face. As I approached their dad, I said, “Your kids sure are cute. I wish I could have taken a picture of them, but I respect your desire to not be photographed.” He thanked me for that and I thanked him for allowing me to photograph the Mail Pouch Tobacco barn. Even though I have no photos to share of these sweet little Amish children, I have an image that will stay in my memory for years to come.
Happy Shunpiking!
Joann
As Ruth and I prepare for our annual “hard-core” photography trip, I am reminded of last year’s trip to the Ohio River Valley. There were so many wonderful rural scenes to discover, but we were also on a mission to capture as many Mail Pouch Tobacco barns as we could during the 8-day trip.
Ruth had done hundreds of hours of research prior to our departure, and she brought along a 40-pound bag of research materials to prove it. She had meticulously marked our Ohio Atlas & Gazetteer with highlighters, sticky notes, and sticky arrows so that we could locate the subjects quickly and efficiently.
One morning we were heading down the road and she said, “Okay, coming up in about a mile is another Mail Pouch Barn.” As we came close to it, we could see that there were a couple of modern pole sheds in front of the old Mail Pouch barn and there was no way to avoid getting them in the picture unless we went down the driveway. So we decided to stop and ask permission.
When we drove in the driveway, we discovered that an Amish family lived there. The father was working near the front porch of the house. Across the driveway from the porch was an empty vegetable stand that would be used in the summer to sell the vegetables they raised. And inside the vegetable stand were three young children, climbing around in the wooden bins of the stand. And, as all older siblings do, the boy, who appeared to be about four, was picking on his two little sisters.
“Rupert!” the dad hollered, but Rupert paid no attention.
“Rupert!” the dad hollered again as he headed towards the vegetable stand. And then he finished his scolding in German as he physically pulled the kids apart from their fighting. When the commotion had ceased, I asked politely if I could go down by the barn to photograph it. The man said I could and then I confirmed that no pictures could be taken of the children. After all, they were very cute in their traditional Amish clothes - blue shirt, black pants, suspenders, and a straw hat for the boy; plain colored dresses and bonnets for the girls.
I carried my tripod and camera down the driveway to the barn and set up in front of a wooden fence to capture the faded old Mail Pouch barn. As I studied the scene and took my photographs, I sensed that I was being watched. So I turned to the left and looked behind me. Sure enough, the three little Amish kids were behind the fence, leaning on it and watching me intently. So I thought I would try to strike up a conversation.
“Do you have a dog?” I asked. In our travels we’ve noticed that almost every Amish family has at least one dog.
They just stood there looking at me. So I tried something else.
“How old are you?” Still no response -- too shy, maybe.
As I continued to photograph, I started thinking about how their father had spoken to Rupert in German. Hmm, maybe that’s what they’re used to, but I don’t speak German. I wasn’t ready to give up yet, so I turned to the left again to try something else, but they were gone. Then I turned to the right and looked behind me and there they were -- three little Amish faces peering through the fence at me. Oh, how I wish I could have captured that, but I do respect their ways.
“How old are you?” I asked Rupert again. And then I put up my fingers one at a time until I reached four fingers, and raised my eyebrows in a questioning look. A big smile spread across Rupert’s face. He nodded in agreement. Then I pointed to the oldest girl with a questioning look. Rupert put up one finger, then two, with an impish grin on his face. And then his sister slugged him in the arm and put up three fingers. I responded with an understanding nod. Then I pointed to the youngest girl and I held up one, then two fingers. They all nodded a big YES!
As I walked back to the house with the three little Amish children close behind, I couldn’t help but have a big smile on my own face. As I approached their dad, I said, “Your kids sure are cute. I wish I could have taken a picture of them, but I respect your desire to not be photographed.” He thanked me for that and I thanked him for allowing me to photograph the Mail Pouch Tobacco barn. Even though I have no photos to share of these sweet little Amish children, I have an image that will stay in my memory for years to come.
Happy Shunpiking!
Joann
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Just Call Her Mary Poppins
By Ruth A. Ringelstetter
The back of Joann’s car is always loaded with a “just in case” bag. It is filled with extra clothes and her rain gear. She is well prepared for whatever weather we encounter in our backroads travels.
On our trip to Ohio in April of 2009, we started with sun -- way too much sun and no character in the sky, and we wished for better conditions for photographing. Well, our wishes came true and, for most of the rest of the trip, as Joann photographed, it had just rained, was threatening to rain, or was raining. And she was happy.
Joann is well prepared for the rain. She has her purple rain suit, and there are always several umbrellas in the car. She likes the even lighting when there is a light rain, so she will don her rain suit (in a porta-potty, under the back hatch of the car on a country road, or in a gas station restroom if we are lucky enough to be near one) and we continue to photograph. I’m usually in the car waiting unless I’m needed to hold the umbrella for some reason.
Often, she opens the umbrella and props it over the door as she gets out her camera equipment. Then when she has everything she will need, she takes the handle of the umbrella and says “Just call me Mary Poppins” and then laughs as she closes the door to go take the pictures.
On one of the rainy days, it was raining too hard to photograph, so we decided to drive from one of my planned routes to another. On the way, we were passing through a town that had a Mail Pouch barn at the edge of town. The barn sits on a hill behind a McDonalds with development all around it. We hadn’t passed very many red Mail Pouch barns, and this one was in very good shape, so we pulled into the McDonalds parking lot. We found a place to park at the edge of the lot next to the dumpster, and Joann saw that she could get a pretty good angle and eliminate the development. The only problem was that we had driven into this hard-pouring rain, so Joann hadn’t put on her rain gear.
We sat at the edge of the parking lot for a while trying to decide if she should try to get a picture or two or if we should go on. The problem with going on is that we try not to go back to the same place twice, so it was now or never for a picture of this barn. I watched her as she got ready to make a mad dash for the back door to get out her equipment, and then she went for it. Out the door and into the back seat, then grabbed the umbrella and put it over the door while she got her camera set up. Then she took a few pictures quickly and stored the equipment away, shook off the umbrella and laid it on the floor of the back seat.
As she slid back behind the wheel, she said “Done,” and then her back touched the seat. She was soaked through and now she could really feel it.
Farther along our route, we came down a road with several Mail Pouch Barns. One sat very close to the road, and as we approached we came to a small side road with a metal bridge across a creek. We pulled over and Joann got out, propped her umbrella open, loaded up everything she needed, and carried it across the road to the old metal bridge.
She took a lot of pictures from that location – misty pictures of the Mail Pouch barn in the distance; pictures of the rusty old metal bridge; pictures of the old gray barn down the little side road; and pictures with the road, bridge, and barn. All the while, the rain came down steadily, and Joann struggled to keep her camera equipment dry and to manage the tripod, camera settings, remote control, hand-held filters, and the umbrella, all with only two hands.
I watched as she finished up and started to head back to the car. Then, as often happens, I watched her turn around for a few more shots. Sometimes she gets an idea on another angle and returns to capture it. She bent down and lined up some photos of the Mail Pouch barn through the openings in the bridge, and then I watched her kneel down on the wet gravel road to get a better angle.
When she returned to the car, she packed away her equipment and the umbrella and got in. As we started down the road, she put her hand to her knee.
Joann: “How did I get my pants all wet?”
Ruth: “Well, you knelt down on the bridge.”
Joann: “I did?”
She is often so engrossed in capturing the scene that she doesn’t realize what position she’s taking to get the shots. As we continued on, I told her we would be passing a barn we had passed yesterday. I don’t normally direct us to drive the same road twice, but it was the quickest way to get to my next marked area. It was a barn with a WOW Chewing Tobacco ad on it, and when we had passed it the day before, the lighting had not been good and there had been a vehicle parked close enough to prevent good shots of the barn. This day, the vehicle was gone and since it had been raining, the pictures were much better.
Everywhere we went for the next few days of the trip, the ground was saturated with all of the rain, but the pictures were great. We stopped at a very interesting covered bridge to get some photos. The Otway Bridge is a traditional covered bridge on one end, with a metal truss bridge on the other end.
The Otway Bridge was built over Brush Creek in 1874. It is a Smith Patented Truss bridge with an original length of 200 feet. At some point it was shortened to the current 171 feet. The wetness from the rains with the bright green of early spring all around us made it a very beautiful bridge.
On our last day in Ohio, we ate our breakfast near an old covered bridge on a dead end road. The road was narrow and there wasn’t a good place to turn around, so we drove to the end hoping for a turnaround. What we found was a farm whose driveway went through the creek. The creek was high and muddy due to all the recent rain and the driveway was impassable.
Luckily, there was a place to turn around, which is probably the place where they park their vehicles when the creek is too high. In that case, we assume they get to their farm by walking across the swinging bridge we discovered near the turnaround.
I hope you’ve enjoyed this mix of rainy day photos as much as we enjoyed finding and capturing them.
Happy Shunpiking!
Ruth
The back of Joann’s car is always loaded with a “just in case” bag. It is filled with extra clothes and her rain gear. She is well prepared for whatever weather we encounter in our backroads travels.
On our trip to Ohio in April of 2009, we started with sun -- way too much sun and no character in the sky, and we wished for better conditions for photographing. Well, our wishes came true and, for most of the rest of the trip, as Joann photographed, it had just rained, was threatening to rain, or was raining. And she was happy.
Joann is well prepared for the rain. She has her purple rain suit, and there are always several umbrellas in the car. She likes the even lighting when there is a light rain, so she will don her rain suit (in a porta-potty, under the back hatch of the car on a country road, or in a gas station restroom if we are lucky enough to be near one) and we continue to photograph. I’m usually in the car waiting unless I’m needed to hold the umbrella for some reason.
Often, she opens the umbrella and props it over the door as she gets out her camera equipment. Then when she has everything she will need, she takes the handle of the umbrella and says “Just call me Mary Poppins” and then laughs as she closes the door to go take the pictures.
On one of the rainy days, it was raining too hard to photograph, so we decided to drive from one of my planned routes to another. On the way, we were passing through a town that had a Mail Pouch barn at the edge of town. The barn sits on a hill behind a McDonalds with development all around it. We hadn’t passed very many red Mail Pouch barns, and this one was in very good shape, so we pulled into the McDonalds parking lot. We found a place to park at the edge of the lot next to the dumpster, and Joann saw that she could get a pretty good angle and eliminate the development. The only problem was that we had driven into this hard-pouring rain, so Joann hadn’t put on her rain gear.
We sat at the edge of the parking lot for a while trying to decide if she should try to get a picture or two or if we should go on. The problem with going on is that we try not to go back to the same place twice, so it was now or never for a picture of this barn. I watched her as she got ready to make a mad dash for the back door to get out her equipment, and then she went for it. Out the door and into the back seat, then grabbed the umbrella and put it over the door while she got her camera set up. Then she took a few pictures quickly and stored the equipment away, shook off the umbrella and laid it on the floor of the back seat.
As she slid back behind the wheel, she said “Done,” and then her back touched the seat. She was soaked through and now she could really feel it.
Farther along our route, we came down a road with several Mail Pouch Barns. One sat very close to the road, and as we approached we came to a small side road with a metal bridge across a creek. We pulled over and Joann got out, propped her umbrella open, loaded up everything she needed, and carried it across the road to the old metal bridge.
She took a lot of pictures from that location – misty pictures of the Mail Pouch barn in the distance; pictures of the rusty old metal bridge; pictures of the old gray barn down the little side road; and pictures with the road, bridge, and barn. All the while, the rain came down steadily, and Joann struggled to keep her camera equipment dry and to manage the tripod, camera settings, remote control, hand-held filters, and the umbrella, all with only two hands.
I watched as she finished up and started to head back to the car. Then, as often happens, I watched her turn around for a few more shots. Sometimes she gets an idea on another angle and returns to capture it. She bent down and lined up some photos of the Mail Pouch barn through the openings in the bridge, and then I watched her kneel down on the wet gravel road to get a better angle.
When she returned to the car, she packed away her equipment and the umbrella and got in. As we started down the road, she put her hand to her knee.
Joann: “How did I get my pants all wet?”
Ruth: “Well, you knelt down on the bridge.”
Joann: “I did?”
She is often so engrossed in capturing the scene that she doesn’t realize what position she’s taking to get the shots. As we continued on, I told her we would be passing a barn we had passed yesterday. I don’t normally direct us to drive the same road twice, but it was the quickest way to get to my next marked area. It was a barn with a WOW Chewing Tobacco ad on it, and when we had passed it the day before, the lighting had not been good and there had been a vehicle parked close enough to prevent good shots of the barn. This day, the vehicle was gone and since it had been raining, the pictures were much better.
Everywhere we went for the next few days of the trip, the ground was saturated with all of the rain, but the pictures were great. We stopped at a very interesting covered bridge to get some photos. The Otway Bridge is a traditional covered bridge on one end, with a metal truss bridge on the other end.
The Otway Bridge was built over Brush Creek in 1874. It is a Smith Patented Truss bridge with an original length of 200 feet. At some point it was shortened to the current 171 feet. The wetness from the rains with the bright green of early spring all around us made it a very beautiful bridge.
On our last day in Ohio, we ate our breakfast near an old covered bridge on a dead end road. The road was narrow and there wasn’t a good place to turn around, so we drove to the end hoping for a turnaround. What we found was a farm whose driveway went through the creek. The creek was high and muddy due to all the recent rain and the driveway was impassable.
Luckily, there was a place to turn around, which is probably the place where they park their vehicles when the creek is too high. In that case, we assume they get to their farm by walking across the swinging bridge we discovered near the turnaround.
I hope you’ve enjoyed this mix of rainy day photos as much as we enjoyed finding and capturing them.
Happy Shunpiking!
Ruth
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