“Mistake on the Lake.”
“We’d all like to flee The Cleve”
“Blight City”
Nobody has typically said stellar things about Cleveland, the city that produced cars and steel back in the 60s, but since, only produced LeBron James (GOAT though, amirite?). It’s biggest brush with fame in the pre-LeBron years was a sitcom featuring native son Drew Carey, who screamed “OHIO!” more than a bit ironically at the end of the “Cleveland Rocks!” theme song.
And who could forget this gem, spoofing Cleveland’s ‘Tourism Board’ that went viral:
Sure, there are smokestacks on the horizon billowing industrial waste out by the thousands of pounds per minute— but this former industrial city was built on honest factory labor, and still has retained some of these manufacturing and production jobs despite the (better-known) flight of folks leaving the area for more opportunity.
You’re definitely going to see some run-down spots in the area, but you will also see areas that have old architecture that has been lovingly restored. The juxtaposition of Cleveland is like that– it’s not all one thing, but a mix of old and what’s been made anew.
Trust me when I say that Cleveland, not unlike Buffalo, has a spirit that doesn’t mind being overlooked: in fact, those in “The Land” kinda revel in the way people constantly underestimate their town. Because while everyone wasn’t shining a spotlight on it, Cleveland was busy making something of itself.
People in Cleveland take pride in their town, and rightly so— they’ll defend its honor if you talk sh*t about it. Residents would take anyone to-task for suggesting Cleveland was a ‘flyover’ city. In fact, there’s “Cleveland vs. The World” t-shirts sold everywhere to prove it– this isn’t exactly a joke, the slogan is something Clevelanders really believe.
There’s the Rock Hall, which you likely know about (it’s excellent). But I bet you haven’t heard of the Witch Museum? Or West Side Market? Or Perla’s Pirogies? Or the Cleveland Guardians? (nope, not THOSE Guardians, the other Guardians— it’s complicated: never mind, I’ll explain that later).
Traveling in the van around the country further disabused me of the notion that certain places are “interesting” and certain places are not. That’s total bullsh*t— and Cleveland is only the latest reminder of that truism.
One of the highlights of my visit was seeing the Original ‘Cleveland Guardians.’ Why are there two professional sports teams in the city with that name, you might ask? Well, a few years ago, the MLB team in Cleveland changed its name to the ‘Guardians’— finally relenting to years of pressure from native peoples who protested the use of the former team name. In a splashy video, the team made their announcement— they’d taken inspiration for the name from two famous Art-Deco statues on a bridge that led to downtown (bad photo below of the bridge, I took as I whizzed by in the passenger’s seat).
Except. There already was a Cleveland Guardians team– named after that same bridge sculpture.
Oops.
The MLB franchise either didn’t look, or didn’t care, that Cleveland’s roller derby team had been called The Guardians for years. Institutional arrogance or idiocy? Either way, a small settlement was paid to the Original Guardians, and now, confusingly and forevermore— the two teams share a name.
On a Saturday this fall, I went to check out the O.G. Guardians— who played their matches in a small field house structure just on the outskirts of the city limits. And was surprised to find… roller derby played by the Guardians was co-ed?
I had only ever been to women’s roller derby, the style made famous in the 70s and immortalized in the movie “Whip It” in the 90s. I honestly didn’t know there was mixed-gender roller derby games, and for a person who believes gender is a construct— I quickly realized I shouldn’t have been clutching my pearls.
As usual, puns ruled that day— both team names and individual names were often “punny,” a feature of roller derby This Nerd tends to love. We got to watch the “Chicago Bruise Brothers” take on the “Philadelphia Hooligans”— and with individual ‘roller derby names’ like “Spock and Awe” and “Om Wrecker” and ones parroting brands like “Frank Shredhot” and so on, it produced a chuckle every time someone new stepped out into the rink.
Well, I would have chuckled if I wasn’t watching people get absolutely body-checked into oblivion:
The event itself was mayhem— absolute mayhem. Click the video below to see the “carnage:”
Roller derby is not a gentle sport— but this was next-level, like watching the NFL on Skates. The hits were absolutely bruising and brutal, and both teams spent a lot of time in the penalty box. There was a distinct “thud” when bodies were pushed to the ground.
It was clear to me about halfway through the match, that nobody who skated that day was going to be walking normally the next day.
The rules were similar to other roller derby matches I’d been to— there’s “jammers”— two (generally lithe) players who try to skate through the obstacles of bodies to the front of the pack, where they will be awarded “lead jammer” status, meaning they can score points every time they break through the pack.
Watch the video below to see a “Jammer” (*with the star on his helmet) try to skate and swivel his way through the pack of defenders to score– this round wasn’t QUITE as brutal and he made it through:
But I’d never seen such intricate formations — almost like human pyramids— built by the opposing team to keep the jammers from getting through easily. The teammates would hold their arms and legs in specific positions and grab onto each other, creating a “hold” that seemed hard for the jammers to break. And sometimes they did this while skating BACKWARDS!! There was a huge amount of skill and delicacy (players would sometimes literally tippie-toe on their skates to stay in bounds) among the brutality of the pushes and shoves.
See below for the formations of interlocking defensive bodies:
There was only about a hundred spectators there— but those that were there were ALL IN. They waved handmade banners, had t-shirts and kits outfitted with team gear. We even ran into a woman whose partner AND kid were skating for the same team— so she made a double-sign to support the both of them simultaneously.
I had to leave the tournament (which was an all-day affair) before I saw the hometown Guardians play, but I was glad to have stopped by to see this craziness unfold.
One of the things you might not know about Cleveland is that it is home to an extremely robust Italian and Eastern European population by descent, being made up of a huge immigration from places like Sicily, Poland, and Ukraine. This means the homemade pierogi in Cleveland rival that of any other spot in the USA— and leaving without a baggie (and yes, they’ll give you a plastic baggie of them) full of the freshly-made delicacies would be nuts.
On my last visit, I discovered Perla’s Pierogies, a strip-mall hole-in-the-wall with potato (my favorite) by the dozen and 1/2 dozen. Being a non-meat eater, I couldn’t try their homemade sausages, but hear they are exceptional.
Speaking of pierogi, West Side Market in downtown Cleveland is a must-stop if you are in the city. It’s basically an everyday Farmer’s Market, with fresh produce right from farms around Ohio— from fresh produce to freshly-made pasta (Ohio City Pasta is the absolute sh*t) to handmade pastries to stuffed olives, West Side Market is basically paradise.
They also stock local products, and you can truly find everything you need for your weekly shop– including meats, cheeses, pastries, fresh sauces, pastas, breads, and everything between.
And it’s cute AF: these pictures don’t even begin to do it justice. This historic building it is housed in is industrial, but beautiful– and the inside reminds one of a European market (without the pretentiousness, of course).
Just in case you think prime coffee shops with amazing, housemade pastry and plenty of generous wifi for working are for ‘big cities’— there you’d be mistaken. Metropolitan Coffee is one of the most light-filled, cozily-decorated coffee shops I have been to across the country.
The food is so on-point, they even made me try their homemade desserts (a cookie cup with chocolate icing, was just superb). They also have small grit bowls with toppings like cheese and green onion, which is perfect for a little snack to keep you going while you’re workin.’ I returned here several days in a row, and kept trying more of the menu to treat myself — they also have a killer patio.
Now, you probably want to know about The Witch Museum: named “The Buckland Museum of Witchcraft, Paranormal, and the Occult”— was begun by Raymond Buckland in 1966, it was the first museum devoted to witchcraft on American soil (and by some counts, is still the only official one).
Perhaps surprisingly, you’ll want to make a reservation before visiting— they do limited tours, and unlike other museums, it’s not a ‘self-guided’ situation. I was lucky to get a tour the next day after I tried the first time— but the person minding the shop was clear that weekends sell out, as does pretty much every day in October (Halloween and all).
The museum features pieces collected by Raymond Buckland himself, who was the father of witchcraft in the USA— he’d be called a modern-day Wiccan. Born in the 1930s, Buckland began scribbling in a notebook in the 1960s about different spells and magic techniques— as seen below, humorously, it’s just a cheap notebook he bought from Rite-Aid with the sticker still on it.
Over the years, he would perfect these books and publish them, under the name “Buckland’s Complete Book of Witchcraft.” It promises step-by-step instruction in witchcraft, and has been a best-seller in Wiccan circles for decades.
The tour guide took note of some of the more precious items in the collection— from a proper, rare Mandrake root to an elaborate staff he was gifted. Also, popular with visitors, an urn containing the remains of Lil’ Bub— a “cat from outer space” (below in a little urn).
One of the exhibits that interested me most was a traveling exhibition of tea leaves— yep, the expression “reading the tea leaves” got its start in the vein of tarot— after finishing your cuppa, you might work with someone magical to see the pattern your loose leaf tea left inside the cup.
The collection featured gorgeous tea sets were developed internationally that featured different ‘ways’ of reading the tea leaves imprinted right onto the cups. The patterns and colors were remarkable and in themselves, were transfixing. How freaking cool are these?!
The museum has a little gift shop at the end, one that includes some mystical items like crystals, candles, wands, books, and lots of magical objects one could use in your own rituals.
The Witch Museum was honestly pretty awesome– and while I couldn’t understand the significance of all the items (despite great explanation cards, I am not Wiccan), I could appreciate the items nonetheless: often handmade, or by skilled artisans, these objects were clearly special to their holders– even sacred. And that was pretty enriching to see.
So many cities have a “Little Italy” that amounts to a crappy tourist trap: chain restaurants, restaurants that are far from authentic, restaurants that don’t make their own pasta, and restaurants that charge a huge amount of money for mediocre food.
Cleveland, on the other hand, has a storied and authentic Little Italy that’s been around since the city was founded, and features Italian family-run restaurants that have been in business for generations. Little Italy as it should be, basically– free of gimmicks, or fake “ambiance”– just focused on the food.
How authentically Italian is Cleveland’s Little Italy? Look, in the picture above is someone’s cigar they were smoking on a stoop, then put out and left on a windowsill for the next day.
My favorite spot to eat at is Mamma Santa’s. They hand-make their pasta and it’s the most no-frills joint you have ever seen: they haven’t updated the interior since the 1970s (still wood paneling on the walls) which is how you know the food is going to be stellar.
AND, I’m happy to say, you’re greeted curtly-but-warmly (in that ‘only Italians’ way). It’s a family business, not the hospitality business– so if you need to be fawned over, it’s not the place for you.
Check out this pasta, and homemade sauce— the red sauces in Cleveland can tend a little sweeter by nature, but this one is includes a nice herbal element on top to balance it out.
The other Cleveland delicacy that you’ve got to try in Little Italy is any bakery that sells “Italian Cookies”— basically, offering you a big selection of individual cookie types that you can buy by the pound. Like the old days, you take a number when you walk in, and then wait your turn to approach the counter and pick out your bite-sized cookies.
I can’t even begin to recommend a single cookie to try— they are all delicious, and everyone has their own favorites, which is why picking from such a melange is a fun experience. I happen to love the pine nut cookies, but to each his own!
The Rock Hall is maybe the first destination tourists go to in Cleveland, and there’s a good reason for that. I went long ago, and wasn’t terribly impressed with it— it felt really heavy on ‘old white guy rock’ and light on everything else, which was fine (but not inspiring to me).
I’m happy to report that since my last visit, they seriously updated their displays to include more women, people of color, and EVEN a section before the museum made in acknowledgment that rock ’n roll itself emerged entirely from soul and gospel music.
The photographic exhibit “Hotter than July” was up when I visited– which displayed the photographs of Bruce W. Talamon– an absolutely brilliant documentarian of Black artists as they rose in their careers: like this wonderful photo below of a young Aretha Franklin.
As you can see from the images I took in the museum, I was particularly drawn to the exhibits about female musicians, since they were so absent from my experience last time at the Rock Hall. Bands like Heart, The Pretenders, Madonna, Bonnie Raitt, and others were dotted through the displays.
Since I was there with other folks, we all found ourselves gravitating toward the displays for bands we wanted to see, then tended to meet in the middle of the vast rooms later. In this way, the Rock Hall is not ONE experience, and doesn’t feel guided or tracked–
I also was struck by how the exhibits from my favorite bands took on more resonance as I aged— being middle-aged now, I look back on music from my childhood with much more fondness and nostalgia than before. And of course, that’s what a memorabilia-based museum is all about: re-activating the awe of hearing your favorite band jam out ‘that song’ from when you were a wide-eyed teenager.
There’s studies that say our drive to find new music peaks around age 30, and maybe that’s true— as the Rock Hall seemed to be full of people over 30 (most over 50) : I guess few truly young folks give a crap about the ‘history’ of music yet (unless it’s an ‘era’).
One of the coolest exhibits was that of the ‘gold plates’ of the inductees into the Hall— arranged by year they were admitted. I forgot to snap a photo in this golden room, but it was a stunning way to commemorate this hallowed class of musicians — many of whom changed the world.
Cleveland is also home to some history one wouldn’t expect— Jesse Owens was born there, and Eliot Ness is buried there. And not far from Little Italy is a historic cemetery where everyone from John Rockefeller to a former assassinated president (Garfield!) is entombed as well. The Lake View Cemetery has lots of significant burials, and they will even provide a map if you ask for one. The grounds are quite circuitous, so a missed turn could mean you end up having to take a long, one-way route back to where you wanted to be (*so, drive slow).
There are also a ton of sculptures on the grounds, as this was where the very wealthy tended to make their final resting place. This macabre sculpture on one of the graves is called the “Haserot Angel” and is known for the dark “tear” stains on her face. Creepy? Definitely. Worth seeing? Absolutely.
There are many ‘famous’ graveyards in America, for their aesthetics and the general importance of those interred there– Lake View Cemetery is an
The George Masaveg Art Home in Cleveland is one man’s ongoing art project, in which his residence is the canvas. He is often outside his home, as he was the day I visited— he explained how he goes to thrift stores and purchases lost objects and artworks and gives them new life— sometimes, by just shellacking them against the weather and hanging them right outside in the elements.
George has placed sculptures or artworks in nearly every nook and cranny of his home’s exterior and yard— making the eye jump from discovery to discovery. It was truly unreal to observe just how much is crammed in there— I can’t imagine his neighbors love it, but I did— it was awesome to see this guy just doing his thing. He clearly cared for the cast-off objects and was determined to bring them a new life as appreciated pieces.
I think I might have mentioned in a previous post, a national park is within about 20 minutes drive of downtown Cleveland: Cuyahoga National Park.
If you’ve been to the National Parks out West, perhaps it would be a tad disappointing— there’s no grand mountainscapes — but there are some pretty weird rock formations, some stunning fall foliage, and some fantastic flat, easy, accessible hikes.
For instance, this 2.5-mile loop called “The Ledges Trail” that was just absolutely stunning in the fall. These “ledges” are cut by the Cuyahoga River, over 400 years of erosion, into sandstone, siltstone, and shale. The visual impact of these rock ledges and the sloping walls they create is a stunner.
Geologically, Cuyahoga is really a “buried valley”— meaning, all the deposits from receding glaciers are the topography we see today, whereas the original layers of the ancient lakebed are actually over 500 feet down. This park is rich in hydrocarbons (did someone say ‘shale’?) but luckily, remains protected due to its park status.
The hike itself has barely any gain, but with lots of wet leaves matted down— was slick. So, I always wore hiking boots despite the lack of challenge, just for the tread. I got to tackle this trail on both a rainy day, and a sunny one— and the light changed dramatically from one to the next, but it was especially fun to photograph on the sunny day– as the yellow leaves became almost blindingly bright in the sun.
Somewhat hilariously, the below are two pictures of one of the “best vistas” in Cuyahoga National Park:
Yep, if you’re still looking for the actual view, I wouldn’t blame you. SOOOO —nope, it’s still not a Western Park in its rare beauty, but it’s also far more accessible than those remote parks that are hundreds of miles from anything. Natural beauty that’s isolated is glorious— but with about 3 million visitors a year, Cuyohoga is one of the most-visited in the park system– so I’m grateful this park allows people of any age to gain in their appreciation for the natural world.
After a hike on a warm day, get some Handel’s ice cream — it’s some of my favorite homemade ice cream in the country. It’s hard to describe what exactly makes Handel’s so good– it’s creamy to the point of almost seeming buttery, it’s so rich. Think of the way frozen custard is denser and creamier than regular ice cream– and then imagine Handel’s is somewhere on the spectrum between the two.
Lately, I’ve seen that Handel’s is expanding a bit — formerly just in Cleveland, you can now find them in Arizona and other states where Ohioans tend to ‘snowbird’ (even California). If you DO get to enjoy the delight that is Handel’s, make sure you tell your companions it’s originally from Cleveland.
Sometimes, I’m a bit blown away by the places that pass for “dives” in major cities– these spaces are decorated to BE dives, with exposed bricks and a put-on front that seems to play to hipsterism in a way that’s manufactured. Charlie’s Restaurant was pretty indicative to me of the nature of a true “dive”– been there forever, frequented (and kept alive) by locals, and some place you’ll never see on a list of the “latest and greatest” places to eat. (It’s a place you will barely even see on Google Maps).
Charlie’s exterior was impressive and caught my eye (to say the least) from the road– and walking in, there were only about 8 spots at the counter and just a few small tables smashed in. The waitress and staff were bantering in a way that let me know they’d known each other for years, not days or minutes.
The mini potato pancakes were exactly the snack I was looking for– though they are known for their hot dogs, something that — believe it or not, passes for a meal in Cleveland.
Cleveland is a sleeper city— one that shouldn’t be defined by the hardship it is most often associated with, but instead– with being a scrappy city with vibrant cultures of people that just keep on pushing ahead and being kind to one another– and refusing to be relegated to “flyover” status.
Mac personally suggests visiting in the fall– he loves when the leaves change colors (which he can’t see because of his colorblindness)– but he sure does love romping in them when they pile up.
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