WRITE TEAM: The intrigue of visiting new places, and the comfort of the familiar

As I sit here curled up with a fleece blanket on my couch, looking out across the snowy yard, I’m looking through photos from the lovely trip my sister and I took two summers ago. Want to come along?

It all began in the wee hours of the morning long before the sun had thought about climbing the eastern sky. Awaking in the darkness to the rude sound of my alarm, it takes a moment to remember exactly why I’m waking up at this hour, and once realization dawns I question why this was a good idea. Still, I roll out of bed, pack my phone charger into my duffel bag and head downstairs to finish packing the cooler.

My sister and I loaded up the car. All ready, the little blue car heads toward the interstate where we join the river of cars, trucks and semis traveling in a steady stream. As we go east, a few hints of light begin to appear on the sky. Soon, orange and red pastels paint the horizon.

With good music playing, the miles tick away as we head across Indiana. Pretty countryside flashes by, with farms, fields, and villages. A few hours later, we’re welcomed into Ohio with rolling land and different soils than my prairie homeland.

Soon Lake Erie comes into sight, and we a find mom and pop restaurant serving lake-caught fish for lunch. The quaint place has fishing décor on the walls, side-by-side with newspaper articles and accolades for the food.

Next, we head across town to our major destination. In the warm, bright sunshine, I see vintage airplanes and helicopters as we pull into the parking lot. We came for one particular purpose, and it’s inside the glass case here at the aviation museum. A familiar leather jacket and crush cap worn by the leader of “Hogan’s Heroes.” They’re displayed with posters, and costumes from Schultz and Klink and the famous wiretap coffee pot. The rest of the museum is interesting as well, particularly the stories of the airplane routes to and from the islands on the lake that hauled cargo, people, and occasionally farm animals.

We eat in the retro diner attached to the museum; it’s a fun trip into the past. As evening falls, we walk around the downtown and out to the pier where Lake Erie shimmers with sunset colors. Then we settle into a hotel room inside the historic brick building that has hosted celebrities and presidents over the years, and now us.

The next morning, we head south into the country and stop at Rutherford B. Hayes’ home and presidential library that sits among stately trees in a quaint town. Then we head further into farming country, where cattle graze green pastures, horses pull buggies down quiet roads, and shocks of wheat hearken back to a simpler time.

There we visit a farmer I’m interviewing for a story. A neat farmhouse and barn are surrounded by rolling pastures dotted with a happy herd of sleek dairy cows. Far away from my own cattle, it feels familiar as I walk the fields with the hardworking farmer, talking about what we both know so well.

Later, as I fall asleep with rolling fields outside my window at the inn, I soak in the peaceful feeling of pleasant times seeing new places and talking with new people. And appreciating that sometimes these new things aren’t as unfamiliar as they seem.

• Martha Hoffman Kerestes is a farmer and freelance writer in rural Streator.