Abandoned and Found at Chippewa Lake

{It’s My Party 🎉, Part 5}

I was really hoping to see some of the abandoned Chippewa Lake Park in Chippewa Lake, Ohio… but the Universe had me encountering a selection of townspeople, kind of like a video game, instead. {I swear I was hearing Castlevania Simon’s Quest music in my head as I encountered the people of Chippewa Lake. This was one of my favorite video games to “play,” as I could just walk around and talk to people without having to fight anything. Like Zelda, where I’d mainly like to go shopping and run away from any confrontation. This frustrated my brothers because they actually played these games to complete them while I hogged the NES with ridiculous intentions.}

The small lake-side town has grown accustom to folks trying to explore the remains of the historic amusement park. But despite many internet reports, there is not much left to explore. I think. You see, I never got in. Though once I arrived at the fence above, after chatting with two young men (one blue-haired, one green-haired) also hoping to photograph the abandoned remains, I tried my darnedest to drive towards other entry points along the lake. But first, a couple–both who had gone to the park in their youth reminisced about the time they spent there, sharing their potent memories with me as we stood by the gate. I was captivated by the twinkle in their eyes recalling the excitement the place held. After they went on their way, I was even more motivated to get in.

I weaved about the tiny, circular roads around the vicinity. These were roads that were only traveled by residents. Some were cut with deep crevasses, all were unkept–the bumps a reply to my intrusion.  Dilapidated structures covered with refuse and overgrown vines were someone’s pride and joy, gaging by the unwelcoming glares casted my way. The makings of a horror movie, but oh how seasonally appropriate. But I wasn’t giving up yet.

My last resort was a restaurant, The Oaks Lakeside. With a large parking lot and a path that seemed to lead to the lake, I thought for sure I could find my way to the ruins. But the path lead me to a yacht club. Amidst the end of their operational season and within a “piering out” event, I was noticed right away. After a woman inquired about my meandering down, I told her what I was sure she had heard often–that I wanted to see the remains of Chippewa Lake Park. She past me on to her husband named Greg who I would spend the next half hour driving around the town with talking about the town’s history, its residents, his life. It was an encounter that was special in many ways as it seemed predetermined, natural, untainted by the careful presumptions we must take to limit our exposure to danger.

Though I know it is foolish to get in a car with a strange man, he was not. His face was familiar; we were familiar. And it was like we were catching up from a span of not ever knowing each other. Plus, if you wanted to cast a kind grandfather who was patient, understanding with a keen sense of humor, you’d cast Greg. The lines on his face traced all of what you want time to do to you–make you more free, make you love easily, make you help a woman just because.

At the end of our tour of the town, I never got the see the ruins. But I met some people who brought otherness to this solo traveler. The road is a special place. It places in front of you exactly what you need. And you take it. And then you move on.

Here are some of the pictures I took of some of the amusement park’s pieces that were outside of the fenced area. Goodbye, Chippewa.