We had perhaps our oddest Buckeye moment ever in the Hidden Valley parking lot. We were hanging out at the van having a little lunch when three 20ish dudes come walking over to us. No shirts, underwear and bellies hanging out, with beer and smokes in hand, they ask us if we smoke (pot). We say no (not that I would have shared anything with them) but they strike up a conversation with us anyway. We talk, while gazing at them like one might look upon a dumb dog. As is the natural progression of these things ‘where are you from’ comes up. Big bellied youngster proudly says Cleveland and turns his right arm sideways to reveal a orange, colored in tattoo of Ohio. Of course.