Straight Shot

Route 27 provides a fairly direct route from northern Georgia to Lansing, Michigan. At least it used to. Now Route 27 doesn't enter Michigan, as it veers off to Ft. Wayne where it ends. In the old days, US 27 went all the way to Cheboygan, Michigan (and actually all the way to St. Ignace via the Mackinac Bridge for a time). It has been superseded by interstates and revised signage that drops the "27" in favor of other route numbers.

I may seek out US 27 for more of my trip in 2010; this year I drove it for a memorable stretch east of Lexington, Kentucky (concurrent with Rte. 68) then continued on as I ventured through western Ohio. Route 27 took me through Oxford, Ohio, home of Miami University, my mother's alma mater. Had I known that the stretch of US 27 between Cincinnati and Oxford has been dubbed "highway to heaven" because of the high number of fatalities, I may have rethought my course. My trip was uneventful, marred only by wildlife fatalities (roadkill) along the way.

The Miami campus is much more attractive than I remember it from a short visit many (45?) years ago. I wonder what has changed – the campus, my impression of dark red brick buildings, or both.

After a quick lunch at a Subway-inspired pita restaurant in Oxford, iPhone directed me out of town on back roads that may not have shown up even on the map of Ohio that I didn't have to buy. For a few minutes, I questioned my trusty device, but in the end, my intended route (now US 127 to Lansing while US 27 headed to Indiana), appeared right where iPhone said it would, and I headed north following familiar signs (though still in unfamiliar territory). My ultimate goal was East Lansing, just a stone's throw from 127, but a proximate objective was to explore a bit of Preble County, not far north of Oxford, and west of Dayton.

Preble County was home to some of my Mitchell - Beard ancestors, who moved there from Maryland in the 19th century. Mitchells arrived in the early part of the century, when Preble was still in frontier mode; Beards arrived after 1850. They all landed in what is now a patchwork of plowed fields. Whether Preble was their goal or whether someone on the wagon train just said "Enough!" as they trudged over the National Road (US Route 40), which runs from Maryland through Preble County, we'll never know. Actually, the Mitchells arrived in 1827, before the National Road was completed as far west as Preble County, so their trudging was even more strenuous.

The little hamlets in Preble County were as far west as this branch of my family got in the 19th century. About all I'll say about Preble today is that it would be hard to imagine living there now, though I can certainly understand the appeal of good farm land to my hard-working ancestors.

Headed north again on US 127, I noticed that the road sign said "Annie Oakley Memorial Pike." iPhone quickly conspired with Wikipedia to inform me that Annie's (Phoebe Anne Mosey) 1860 birthplace was near the road. Sharpshooter Annie's independence and competence appealed to me as a child, and her legend has continued to attract attention as those attributes (and others: http://www.annieoakleyfoundation.org/bio.html) became fashionable for women. When the term "role model" was invented, Annie became one for many girls; before that she was just a heroine. Her motto: "Aim at a high mark and you will hit it. No, not the first time, not the second time and maybe not the third. But keep on aiming and keep on shooting for only practice will make you perfect. Finally, you’ll hit the bull’s-eye of success." The downside: some people believe that Annie died of lead poisoning from all the ammunition she handled throughout her life. Maybe too much practice has a price.

Although Annie's birthplace has been razed, her grave is well marked in a cemetery not far from Rte. 127. I took the short detour (looking for a good excuse to get out of the car to stretch my legs) but determined that I didn't need to interfere with the visitors who were already in the small cemetery, photographing her headstone. R.I.P., Annie.