The Road To Hell

June 13, 2013

Last night's storm left little evidence of its ominous grip on we patrons of the Holiday Express in Portland, Indiana; only receding puddles, a blustery wind and overcast sky with sporadic rain in the forecast. I felt occasional drops while unwrapping the Harley and stuffing its now dry cover into the saddlebag. After a tasty and filling breakfast in the lobby I returned to my room and suited up for what I anticipated would be a rainy ride to Hell.

According to television's travel channel, the small community of "Hell" is  a "must see" for those who meander off the beaten interstate when traveling through Michigan. I watched that episode a year or so ago and decided to check the place out since it is on my route north.
 
(Click)    Visit Hell Here

Eastbound out of Portland, I retraced my route to Fort Recovery and turned north where, suddenly, mood-enhancing blue sky stretched to the horizon. I rode deeper into the barn-dotted countryside of Ohio, across miles and miles of rich-green farmland and among sprouting silos. No rain in sight. But I was comfortable in my rain gear and felt no need to take it off for it cut the chill, something I hadn't felt since crossing the high desert of West Texas in April.

Surprisingly, Ms Garmin and I were getting along just fine for most of the day.  I followed her lead along a variety of sparsely populated roads as we diagonaled north toward Michigan, only questioning her wisdom once. Actually, it was a mere case of "double-checking" and just because of a convenient spot to stop in the town of Rockford to tap the "zoom out" button and check the overall perspective. Turns out she was right. She muttered something about my lack of trust and I countered with her inability to find "Hell". Being the angel she is, it wasn't on her radar, she snickered, adding that it must not be a real town.  I reminded her Google Earth had no problem finding Hell. If we were lucky we'd just happen onto it between Chelsea and Howell, Michigan, our ultimate destination because I knew there was no lodging in Hell.

Meanwhile, we rode on to Van Wert and eventually to the city of Defiance where, soon afterward, we found ourselves on a "turnpike" that soon came to a barricaded, pay-or-stay end. Good thing I had some pocket money. The self-pay machine wasn't up to negotiating. We're not used to this turnpike stuff out west.

As pleasant as the ride was, it was a tiring day. Though there were ample stretches of high-throttle-straight-roads, there was also a lot of clutch-handing my way through numerous stop lights in various towns. By the time I reached Chelsea, Michigan I was ready to call it a day and wheeled into the breezeway of Comfort Suites where I braced for a price quote in the 90-dollar range. I was too tired to argue. Although only 27 miles from Howell, and close to Hell, I thought why go to Hell when tired? Why not get a fresh start in the morning?

The desk clerk said she had one room left, a "double-queen," for $225. I uttered a jaw-dropping "wow" as I scanned the lobby, looking for evidence of anything that would justify such a ridiculous price. Nothing. It all looked pretty normal to me. The good news is that, suddenly, I was re-energized. I'd ride to Canada before paying such an absurd price. 

With no intent to negotiate, just disbelief, I couldn't help but say to the clerk I'd never heard of such a price for an average looking motel. 

"That's what rooms go for around here," she answered with a slightly defensive tone, but finally added, "NASCAR is in town."

I took that to mean rabid fans of NASCAR had swarmed the town and were willing to pay any price for a room, which also explained why there was only one vacancy left long before dark. It started to make gradual sense to me (not to be confused with complete sense).

Inasmuch as I'd rather be in Hell, I asked for directions. The desk clerk was more than happy to oblige. No, she answered, it's not along the direct route to Howell but on a seldom used backroad. She computerized and printed a small map for me to take along. 

Perhaps to my credit, I was not impressed with Hell, which, in my opinion, had been highly overrated by the Travel Channel. Maybe because there was absolutely nothing there, just two ..... count 'em ... two buildings; three if you include the Dam Site Inn, a restaurant/bar on the outskirts. Under more comfortable circumstances I might have tried it out for dinner, but a cloud-darkening sky and lack of lodging put my hunger on hold. Besides, I still hadn't found "the town". Had I known it was just around the curve I'd have walked. I re-parked in a gravel lot between the other two buildings and thought, "what now?" 

I took a few pictures then wandered into the store and browsed assorted souvenirs; T-shirts, ball caps and coffee mugs were embossed with whimsical sayings that included the word, Hell.  "I've Been Through Hell And Back", was a common slogan. Most of the merchandise was like that found in stores nationwide during Halloween season and nothing made me want to unholster my wallet. The stool-perched girl behind the counter had been studying her fingernails all the while and only looked up to advise, "Have a Helluva nice day" as I left the building.

Needless to say, my time in Hell was short-lived. I mounted up and rode the remaining 13 miles to Howell where I paid $79 for a room at the Best Western just as the rain started. Perfect timing.

The Road To Hell Video (Part 1)

 The Road To Hell Video (Part 2)

Doing Time In Hell

Dam Site Inn

There's a Chapel In Hell

Devilish Signs

Miniature Golf

Novelty Shop

Alone In Hell

The Other Side Of Hell

Leaving Hell

2013 0613 Portland, IN to Howell, MI 232 Miles