Abandoned Columbus Ohio Highway

Posted: Sunday February 9, 2020

On a particularly dreadful hot and muggy summer night, I found myself wandering the city streets of Columbus Ohio, a recovered rustbelt metropolis best recognized as both the state capital and most populous city within the state. Although, I understand, Columbus is perhaps more renowned for some State University campus and football team. Fortunately, football does little to excite my mind and a college campus is only as interesting as its utility tunnel system, which I am aware is quite extensive and interesting, but that is an adventure for another time. While my companions were off wasting away at some bar, trading dollars bills for carbonated urine, I decided my time would be better wasted wandering the downtown neighborhood streets in search of some real adventure.

Any time I find myself exploring a new city with no set agenda to adhere to, I tend to mindlessly gravitate toward wandering around the old industrial neighborhoods and blocks, which are almost always served by a network of tracks, abandoned and active. These railroad tracks, which exist as the industrial veins of a city, often link large old factories to various ports or transfer yards which may or may not still serve a purpose. Railroad tracks are kind of like a secret sidewalk which have the tendency to lead toward some fascinating industrial infrastructure. Hulking steel beam bridges corroded to shit, rail tunnels disappearing under city streets, and crumbling factories colored brightly with graffiti and often occupied by vagabonds and homeless whom tend to know the city best, are just some of the urban treasures railroad tracks connect to along their journey.

My inkling to explore the tracks in Columbus quickly paid off for I soon came across an imposing old trestle spanning the Scioto River which proved to be an epic vantage to catch what turned out to be an incredible sunset. The Columbus skyline, defined by a narrow cluster of rather unassuming tan and brown colored brick skyscrapers glowed boldly beneath the golden hour of sunlight which reflected the skyline wonderfully within the placid mirror-like river water below. I sat with my legs dangling off one of the original stone buttress supporting the olds trestle, absorbing the beauty of the view and enjoying the last of the day's rays before the sun checked out beneath the horizon, inviting darkness to overtake the city.

It was quite interesting to witness how the city cleared out just as quickly as the sun dispersed below the horizon. It was as if everyone in Columbus was afraid of the dark, as once dusk turned into darkness, Columbus became a ghost city. A very strange sight to behold indeed, for the streets which were packed with cars and pedestrians just a few hours earlier were now so desolate that I could just waltz across any major intersection without a care in the world. Just me and the dozens of vacant Lime ride-share scooters and bicycles leaning riderless against building facades and parked in dark alleyways, awaiting to be kidnapped by a man in a van, charged up, and returned by morning, enticing lazy city goers with their "dollar to activate" ransom scheme.

Beneath the veil of darkness I found myself most comfortable within Columbus, for the darkness expunged the daylight crowds and nosey neighbors spying down from apartment windows high above. The night instead created a stage for shenanigans to thrive, its actors lured out from hiding, finally able to wander free from judgement at least until the morning sun again shooed such social undesirables back into hiding. The typical night life of Columbus was rather insignificant sans for a few happening bars; it seems most people just rushed back home to the suburbs after their 9 to 5's let out as if they fear too well the monsters that roam the city streets within the night.

Knowing little about the City of Columbus and having no interest in the typical nightlife activities, I decided to wander onward under the cover of darkness, following further the tracks as the polished rails reflected back the moonlight above, safely guiding me deeper into the unknown, as I walked haphazardly across crooked wooden ties and loose steel plates, the rails ahead disappearing into the infinity of the horizon. At night Columbus is truly dead or so I thought until I noticed ahead in the distance, a flicker of light. But this was no locomotive approaching, rather the bright light bobbed up and down at a steady pace gradually becoming nearer and closer as if a UFO was approaching. Soon this unidentifiable flying object began to appear as a human silhouette before my eyes. As the silhouette approached closer I could begin to decipher the image of a man pushing what appeared to be a wheelchair across the tacks at a slow and steady pace, as if such an act were a normal routine.

As I proceeded forward along the tracks so too did the mystery man at his gingerly pace never missing a step. It was clear we were on a collision course of conversation, for neither of us were backing away. "Looking for a place to sleep?" the man asked of me as we crossed along the railroad tracks. "No, I'm just out enjoying the evening," I replied. "Well if you need a place to sleep my camp is just a bit further down the tracks, there's a bunch of us staying along the side of an abandoned highway bridge over Interstate 70. Where are you from any way?", the man questioned with a friendly mid-western drawl to his voice. "New Jersey" I answered. "Oh, well you know Columbus is one of the most dangerous cities in America, but New Jersey, well damn, Columbus doesn't have anything on Camden, you'll be fine, but be careful if you keep walking your way you'll be headed straight into West Columbus". "You know, I got stabbed there just for bein' white", the man exclaimed as he lifted his shirt to reveal a large scar along the side of his abdomen. And such was the last I heard from the mystery man as he disappeared into night. Our conversation was so unexpected that it took me a few moments to even comprehend that the entire time we were talking, he was slowly pushing a woman sitting in a wheelchair along the tracks, in which the chair he had modded to better fit the width of the rails. It was certainly quite an impressive life-hack indeed.

Leaning more toward checking out the abandoned overpass I had just learned about versus maybe getting stabbed by continuing further down the tracks, I decided to make my way back to the center of the city. It only took a few moments of looking at Google Maps on my phone to figure out where exactly this overpass was. The overpass in questions flys over a section of Interstate Highway 70/71 on the east side of the Scioto River just before the interstate highway crosses over the river. It appears that this small stretch of abandoned highway was at one point just an access road to bypass the loop highway which encircle the downtown section of Columbus. Looking at the road from aerial imagery it seems that perhaps the highway was a continuation of West Mound Street which currently ends at a cul-de-sac before becoming truncated by and active freight train line.

Accessing the abandoned overpass was relatively simple, even under the cover of darkness. Fortunately the view far surpassed the minimal effort it took to scale the shitty construction fence guarding the structure. The overpass as it crested over the interstate highway provided a unique city view that the average Instagram goons likely fail to see, and for that I was happy. Raggedy bushes and thick overgrowth had begun overtake the bridge guardrails which created a bit of a post-apocalyptic feel, as the ruinous structure was silhouetted by the brightly illuminated Columbus skyline directly to the north. I was most taken back by the lack of graffiti, if something like this existed in a major New Jersey city it would have been covered in all sorts of graffiti, which I actually quite enjoy as it turns an otherwise static place into a sort of living art canvas for anyone and everyone willing to push through the artificial boundaries society instills around us. I was able to capture of few long exposure shots that I kinda liked before heading out and following the tracks one last time to head back into the downtown area, where my place of slumber awaited. Watching the city stop lights signal from red to green without a single vehicle passing through was quite the surreal sight. Absent were the familiar sounds of automobiles and horns. Instead the downtown was dead, I really felt like I had the entire city to myself. While New York may be known as the city that never sleeps, Columbus is conked out on sleeping pills at night, wishing never to wake up, only to slog through another pointless 9 to 5 as the sun rises again. However, while the city sleeps there is always much fun to be had.

« Previous Entry Next Entry »