To be honest, when I hear the word “Port Jefferson Sights”, I think of the inconspicuous little town that was founded in 1820 as part of Salem Township in the heart of Shelby County – a place that has more charm than the sober statistics suggest. I stopped the first time by train from Columbus, because I thought a short stop was enough to sniff the “authentic Ohio”. Instead, I found a network of old brick houses that tell of early agriculture, and a few rusted shields that are proud of the foundation data.
The story here is not a Hollywood script, but it has its peculiarities: The first settlers came from New York, brought their names and called the village after their old port. Today you drive by Highway 68, and if you don't pay attention to the highway, you'll miss the small but fine city center that is slinging around the old marketplace. I don't understand the hype around the modern shopping center, but the small café on the corner that has been running since 1912 is really great – here's the best apple cake I've ever tasted.
A short trip to Shelby, the County Seat, is convenient because the train stops there and you can easily get to Port Jefferson by bus from there. I like it if the arrival is just as a little adventure, and this is definitely the case here.
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The first stop of my little Odyssey leads me to Ohio State Reformatory in Mansfield – a massive brick building that was more than just a prison, it was a film set, a ghost house and a memorial at the same time. I took a few photos there at sunset, while an older gentleman in the car park was quietly flooding the “Bunny-Rabbits” that allegedly haunted the cells at night. Parking is usually easy, except on Saturday night, there will be a real problem because then the “Mansfield Ghost Walk” starts and every tourist wants a cookie.
A short detour to the south brings me to Richland Carrousel, a nostalgic carousel that has been rotating in downtown Mansfield since the 1930s. I have to admit, I don't understand the hype for hand-operated carousels, but the creeping wood and the colorful horses have something calming – almost like an old vinyl record player that suddenly runs again. The operators even let you spin a little bit of the mechanism if you're lucky enough, and that's a real insider fuck.
Go on Mansfield Art Center, a modern building that with its glass façade is almost an artwork for itself. I visited an exhibition on local landscape painters, which reminded me of why I want to get out of town – the colors, the light that seems somehow different here in Ohio. The entrance is free, and the café serves the best espresso I haven't had for weeks; this is a little comfort when you come back to breath after a long walk through the halls.
A bit further north Mohican State Park at Loudonville – a forest paradise that has more trees than people. I rented a kayak there and paddled down the Clear Fork River while a deer was curious on the shore and looked at me as if I were the rare specimen of a new species. The trails are well marked, and the visitor centre has a sign that says: “Please don’t feed,” which I see as a courtesy memory of nature.
A short detour to the east leads me to Ohio Caverns at West Liberty. The dripstone caves are impressive, and I almost felt like a small explorer when I was stabbed by the huge halls. The tour was a bit touristy, but the lights that shimmered through the crystals still made me wonder – a bit like a disco ball in the background.
At the end of my small tour, the Buckeye Lake – a large lake overrun by families and boaters in the summer. I rented a small boat there and spent a few hours on the water, while an older couple spread a picnic on the shore and swung loudly over the “good old times”. This is the true Ohio: noisy, cordial and a bit chaotic.
So next time you drive to Port Jefferson, don't forget that the environment has more to offer than the small shops in the city. The Port Jefferson Attractions are charming, but the true highlights are one piece outside – from historical prisons to nostalgic carousels to wild natural paradises. And that's exactly what makes travelling here a little adventure you shouldn't miss.
I have to admit right at the beginning that what I love at Port Jefferson is the old school that is now the Port Jefferson Historical Society Museum house. I came there on a rainy Thursday afternoon because I thought a bit of history could brighten my mood – and I wasn't quite wrong. The building still cnares as if it had an own life, and the exhibitions are so compiled that one has the feeling that one would stumble through the memories of the villagers. Parking is usually easy except when the local school festival starts; then you have to hit between stroller and picnic baskets.
A short walk further (and this is not a joke, the paths are really so short) leads to Port Jefferson Public Library. I once borrowed a book about the history of the Great Lakes that I never wanted to return because the librarian gave me a smile that was almost as warm as the fireplace in the reading room. The library has no long opening hours, but this is just the beauty: you don't feel like in a crowded shopping center, but rather like in a cozy living room that randomly gives books.
If you're looking for a place to represent your legs, look at the Port Jefferson Community Park on. The lawn is not always perfectly mowed – this is probably due to the fact that the budget for green areas is rather modest here – but the baseball plant is surprisingly well preserved, and I have once experienced a local picnic with a few locals who explained to me why the annual “Cornhole tournament” is the highlight of the summer. A little hint: the garage is a field road, so bring your boots when it smells like rain.
Another jewel I can hardly overlook is that Port Jefferson Fire Department Museum. Yes, you've read correctly – a museum in a fire station. The old fire trucks, still operated with hand cranks, are exhibited there, and I even met a former firefighter who told me that he once saved a kitten from a chimney – a real hero when you ask me. The museum is free, but parking is a bit tight because the fire trucks are still standing there if they are not in use.
For those looking for a little romance, there is the Port Jefferson Bridge over the Ashtabula River. I stood there at sunset and watched the water flowing so calmly that you almost forget that the village has only a few hundred people. The footpath is well developed and the sign at the beginning of the bridge access was provided with a small hint: “Please don’t throw back”, which reminded me that there is still a little civilization here.
A little away from the usual tourist paths lies the Port Jefferson Cemetery. Sounds macaber, but the old tombstones tell stories you can't find in any guide. I discovered an old stele covered by Moos, which was born in 1845, and asked me what dreams people had at that time. The grounds are freely accessible, and parking is virtually right next to the entrance – a short walk that brings you to reflection.
And because I can't forget everything: if you're looking for a quick overview, simply tap “Port Jefferson Sights” into your search engine, and you get a list that hardly covers half of what I've described here. I don't quite understand the hype about the big cities, but here in Port Jefferson there are enough small treasures worth a visit – provided you are patience for a bit of parking search and an open ear for the stories of the locals.
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