Hard to find, harder to leave.

That was the unofficial tagline for The Treehouse, bestowed upon it by original owners, the late Andyman Davis and Quinn Fallon.

Ryan Haye found out quickly just how apt the phrase was.

The Pittsburgh ex-pat did in fact get lost when he set out more than a decade ago to find the Columbus version of the dive bars and union halls of his youth, the low-key, blue-collar joints his retired steelworker/professional boxer father would drag him to, where he’d scrounge quarters for the pinball machine – the surrounding places where characters and character could be found in spades.

When he did find the non-descript black door facing an alley and a chain-link fence, he had no idea that inside, surrounding the century-old maple tree growing directly through the center, he would find the centerpiece of his Columbus existence.

“It was like a speakeasy 90 years too late,” he said with a laugh.

In the 10 years that followed, Haye worked, played and took root in the Treehouse. Several of the bands he’s played in formed in and around the bar’s music scene, and between shifts as the self-proclaimed “worst bartender in town,” he became a regular patron – as much of a mainstay as the Tree itself.

It stands to reason that he would be one of the few with the love and the appreciation to shoulder the task he’s about to undertake.

Ryan Haye is going to save the Treehouse.

Re-growth

The Treehouse appeared to be destined for the rock ‘n’ roll bar trophy case as recently as six months ago, triggering an outcry from thousands around the capital city. Its abrupt closing was followed by a swift rumor mill that claimed everything from back taxes to mold damage. Would anyone be crazy enough to take on the damaged, hidden bar – the only joint in Ohio that Esquire Magazine hails as one of the best bars in America – and see the forest from the Tree?

Enter Haye, whose band Ghost Shirt had launched to much success out of the bar three years ago. Affected by what he saw as the decline of his favorite hangout, he started making some calls.

“The state of the bar wasn’t viable; it wasn’t sustainable,” he said. “It was sad, and I was a little bit angry, and a lot of people in there were a little bit sad and angry. That’s when the seed was planted.”

The dominos for Haye’s plans for the bar fell quickly with the Treehouse’s sudden cease in operations; so quickly, in fact, he didn’t have enough time to change his mind. He formed a partnership with his sister-in-law, Roni Stiffler, a 20-year veteran bar manager and bartender, and after crunching the numbers with a businessman friend, he began the takeover.

“I started rattling off numbers and told him to stop me when it stopped making sense – and he never did,” he said. “I thought, ‘If it makes sense for him … then it should make sense for me.’”

New Roots

The Tree Bar, as it will now be called, shall once again return to its place on the Columbus music mantel – despite the name change, the bar will still be a haven for local independent music fans and musicians.

But, it won’t be without a few recognizable changes.

Most noticeably: The Tree Bar is coming back with only half of its tree.

That’s right, the man who saved the The Tree Bar is also the one responsible for taking the proverbial axe to its hallmark.

“I think you could say I saved the legend, but killed the artifact,” he laughed.

It was an emotional decision, but one that Haye said had to be made.

“In all honesty, the tree was dead and it was killing the bar,” he said. “It was great while it was there and it was unique; it certainly helped build the brand of the bar, but to move forward it had to come down.”

Now, a more structurally sound band room features the still majestic maple stump, which Haye plans to turn into an old-fashioned table top with a plaque memorializing Andyman in the center.

“I want to move forward but I want to keep the connections to the history of the place,” he said.

And those aren’t the only changes in store.

The legendary un-lady-friendly bathrooms will get a new look, along with the bar counter, which will be extended to eliminate the more-than-cozy ‘L’ that left patrons in no-man’s land on crowded nights. Behind the bar, taps will be installed for a first-ever craft/draft selection at the Tree, and a happy hour – a vestigial no-no from the days when Fallon shifted the opening times to ward off the riff-raff in the early days – will become part of the regular calendar. Plans for new carpet in some spots and removal of carpets in others, as well as renovations to the front step and back patio, are also in the works.

In addition, Haye also plans to make it a more “sports-friendly music bar” to avoid alienating what he sees as a ton of crossover.

“I don’t think sports and music are mutually exclusive – I’ve had a long sports argument with most of the musicians in this town. Plus, you can only have the Oasis/Blur argument so many times,” he added with a smile. “We might as well shift it over to Steelers-Bengals or Frazier-Ali.”

And, in a pledge that almost no bar must make – unless they have a live tree and a leaky roof – Haye promises The Tree Bar will be … dry.

“People want to come here; I’m just gonna stop daring them not to,” he said.

Treehouse 2.0

Perhaps the most exciting part of Haye’s new vision for The Tree Bar is the familiar local musicians he’ll have to help him carry it out. With the return of longtime bartender Joe Peppercorn (The Whiles), former owner Fallon (X-Rated Cowboys) and booking agent Kyle Sowash (The Kyle Sowashes), The Tree Bar is somewhat literally getting the band back together.

“To me, those guys coming back adds even more legitimacy than I could,” Haye said.

As much as he’s thought about permits, codes, rotted panels and drywall screws in the last half of a year, Haye occasionally lets his mind drift toward the bar’s re-opening night, set for December 23rd.

“I’m going to enjoy watching people settle back in and see the camaraderie and see the conversations fire back up again,” he said. “That will make me very, very happy. I do take pride in that. To me, it’ll be a way of finishing that line of what it started out as, what it became and where it can be in the future.”

Still, he admits he does find himself in a peculiar, if not interesting, role in the Tree’s newest incarnation. Now, the bass player-turned-bar manager must make concessions to his new partner and landlord, as well as the friends and regulars, such as himself, who have inhabited and empowered the bar for these many years. It’s sort of like trying to re-spark things between an old couple.

“When I was growing up, I used to capture insects and get them to fight each other,” he laughed. “I suppose I still sort of do that.”

And now, after seeing the bar’s transformation from the ground up, Haye has come away from the project with an even greater appreciation for his favorite spot, and a new slogan for his era behind the bar.

“Nothing about this place makes sense,” he said proudly. “And that’s what I love about it.”