Last Call: To the Ledges

Yes, it is a long title, but it is no easy task to sum up the Nelson Ledges Quarry Park in one sentence. Even this story will not fully explain all that can be known about this bizarre place—one must go there and experience this world for oneself, something I have had the pleasure of doing several times.

Live performances of psychedelic rock; fire and drum circles that last all night; long-haired men and women wandering around who appear to be lost in a generation that is not their own; and, of course, the smell of bammy (look it up) are just a few elements of the experience of Nelson Ledges. When you first make your way from your newly organized campsite in the woods down to the beach by the quarry, you may believe you have been transported back into the 1960s upon witnessing the aforementioned sights (and scents). However, it is the 21st century and you are in eastern Ohio. Whether it's Grateful Fest, a festival honoring the Grateful Dead, Summer Hookah, a two-day concert headlined by "Ohio-grown" band Ekoostic Hookah, or Reggae Fest, you will find yourself wondering on the drive home, "What just happened?" The stories you will be able to tell will be unforgettable and, sometimes, unbelievable to those who did not accompany you.

Of the four times I have ventured to Nelson Ledges (twice for Summer Hookah, once for Memorial Day Weekend, and once to see Pittsburgh favorite Rusted Root), I have not managed to escape crazy experiences that demand retelling. During my first trip to the quarry, I was frightened. As soon as my friends and I pulled into our campsite, our "neighbors" warned us that they were wild, and they weren't kidding. For two days and nights, they did not sleep but instead held a nonstop party involving hula hoops, fire and djembes. Loud noises that sounded like gunshots erupted throughout both nights. We later discovered the noises were fireworks, and we've heard them every time we've returned. Sleeping, as a result, is close to impossible.

During the musical performances that weekend, we discovered that there are people out there who prefer to wear next to nothing and who don't care if their dancing is not at its best—they do it anyway. Of course, now we have become those people. Sweating as you've never sweat before is a requirement when living in the music at the Ledges, as well as wearing as many glowstick accessories that you can find. Side note: the glowstick I wear around my neck becomes my dancing partner at the Ledges.

These are a few things you must witness, along with many hand-made clothing vendors, cheap (or free) food and people who look as though they have lived at the quarry for many years. Bicycle Man, as my friends and I know him, is an older white man with long, gray, scraggly hair who wears a blue T-shirt and ripped jeans while peddling barefoot at quite a normal pace during the day. Once the sun goes down, however, his speed nearly slows to a halt. He defies gravity as he balances on the bike and hardly moves an inch per minute. Eventually, he will get to the other side of the venue but it takes several hours.

The Bicycle Man may be a treat to view, but no one is more entertaining or mysterious than Gregory. Gregory, whose name we learned while sitting in a drum circle on the beach, is an older black man who wears train conductor-style hats, hand-painted tanks that say something along the lines of "Hugs, not drugs," and cut-off jean shorts. After seeing him once, we realized we have seen him at almost every festival or concert we have attended in past years. This past summer, I have seen him seven times and each time he has been surrounded by groups of young women who adore him. He is a man of mystery that I cannot comprehend. Despite the confusion, he provides yet another burst of life and color for the Nelson Ledges experience that I could not live without.

Last but not least in my unraveling of this dream world are the ledges themselves. When you go to the quarry park, it is almost a rule that you must jump off the big ledge into the water. It took me two days to build up the courage for my first jump, but I eventually closed my eyes, held my hands together in prayer, and leaped.

The feeling you get while taking part in the jump, I believe, serves as the best summary of the Nelson Ledges experience for those who find the park to be a safe haven for their somewhat quirky, wild and free spirits. You may be taking a risk and you may be doing something most see as odd, but the sense of freedom you encounter along the way makes the splash worth it.

May you all have the privilege of making your way into the "twilight zone" that is known as Nelson Ledges.