New Jersey to Ohio

Drive from our old home in New Jersey to brother’s house in New Albany, Ohio

Pulling out of our driveway at the start of a cross country adventure has always filled me with anticipation and excitement about the adventures before us. This time, however, was a bit more emotional. We were leaving our home of 30 years for the final time and migrating West to start a new life. I couldn’t look back. From here on, it was forward – or else I would cry.

A visit with my brother Jim and his family is always a treat, so we made our first diversion off our planned I80 route to dip down to his home in New Albany, Ohio, voted, as he proudly states, the “Best Suburb in America” for two years in a row.

We were greeted enthusiastically by his very exuberant new Beagle pup, “Charlie,” who we had never met, but felt we knew from the dozens of posts my brother has made on Facebook of his new best friend. He was adorable, but not exactly the best watch dog, as he loves everyone he meets.

New Albany is a very walkable community, so later that evening, instead of getting in our car to drive to dinner, we strolled to the center of town and had dinner at the Rusty Busket, a cozy tavern about a quarter mile from his house. What a nice change to be able to walk to restaurants.

After dinner, we spent the rest of the evening sipping wine around my brother’s firepit, catching up and laughing about old times.

The next morning we accompanied Jim on his morning constitutional with Charlie. Walking Charlie was quite a unique experience. He was so interested in sniffing everything along the way that he actually walked sideways, sort of like a crab, while my brother dragged him along. I had never seen anything like it. When we asked Jim if Charlie had been trained at all, he said “No, that would take away his personality.” Ok good. At least he hadn’t been ripped off by a dog trainer.

Later that day, we drove to the historic German Village in Columbus to have lunch at the famous Schmidt’s Sausage Haus. Herb is 100% German and loves a good “wurst,” so I think he was quite excited – or as excited as a German gets.

The place was mobbed, and we had to wait well over an hour to finally get a table. However, as promised by Jim, it was well worth the wait. Following Jim’s advice, Herb had a 32 oz. beer and the “Bahama Mama,” a huge platter of beef and port, hickory-smoked sausage. As if that was decadent enough, we had their famous Jumbo Cream Puffs for dessert. I was pretty sure we wouldn’t need to eat again until we got to the West Coast.

A stroll around the historic German Village helped get the digestion process started, but it had its work cut out for it.

The next morning it was time to say our goodbyes and hit the road – next stop Iowa.