#32. Go Morel Hunting

Morel mushrooms are a big deal in Indiana. The smooth-stalked, spongey-topped mushrooms are treasured by their dedicated hunters for their meaty, nutty taste and rareness. Morels resist domestication, so even the most savvy of hunters can never guarantee coming across the mushrooms.

                                                  

                                                                            Morels

Morels hunters have a small window to find the mushrooms: from early April to early June. They are most often found near dead or dying hardwood trees, as the decaying root systems nourish the mushrooms. 

As if locating morels isn't hard enough, morel hunters are extremely guarded about their knowledge of good hunting spots. The secrecy and rarity of the morels have led them to be called "truffles for the middle class," an allusion to the highly coveted mushrooms that can cost up to $3,600/pound. 

Knowing that morels are difficult to find, especially for a novice such as myself, I opted to attend the sixth annual Morel Mushroom Festival at the Brown County State Park. This would give me a chance to hunt in the park, but would also ensure that I would leave with purchased morels in case my hunting was fruitless.

My prediction was correct: I found zero morels while hiking through the forests of Brown County. Admittedly, I wasn't looking too hard. My uncle warned my mom to beware of snakes, so my mom and I were too afraid to do much thorough examination in fear of disturbing a snake nest or similarly frightening forest-dweller.

Serious morel hunter

Although we did not find any morels, the hunt was enjoyable nonetheless. I had never hiked through Brown County State Park before, but it is just as beautiful as I had heard. The park consists of over 15,700 acres and is the largest state park in Indiana; this provides ample land for exploration and admiration. 

Brown County State Park woods

The only mushrooms found on our hunt

Lake Stahl

After our unsuccessful hunt, my mom and I joined the long line of morel enthusiasts and bought a half pound bag of the mushrooms for a whopping $25. Although this was considerably less than the $1800 a half pound of truffles would cost, it was still a pricey figure. The things I do for this blog...

In addition to a morel sale, the festival offered music by the aptly-named band Jack Morel and the Spores and a crafts tent.

Jack Morel & the Spores

                                            

                                                        Morel-topped walking sticks

There was also a seemingly-random but nonetheless-interesting birds of prey demonstration.

Members of the Indiana Raptor Society speak about local birds of prey

Patrick, an American Kestrel

 A couple of girls even dressed up as morel mushrooms. The fanaticism was even found in the youngest festival attendees.

Morel costumes

After returning from the festival, my mom soaked our purchases in saltwater upon the recommendation of my cousin-in-law who is apparently a pro morel hunter. This solution extracts any gross bugs or dirt that might be found in the hollow mushrooms. She then rinsed, dried and cut the morels in preparation for a breakfast of cheese-and-morel omelets.

I thought the morels were kind of gross in the omelet. They weren't very well cooked and tasted rubbery and bland. I was quite disappointed in them.

Until I fried them. Fried morels are the way to go. They are incredibly easy to make, too. Just coat the slices in flour and fry them in vegetable oil or butter. Before frying they feel and taste rubbery, similar to bad pasta. After frying, they become crispy and attain the fabled meaty, nutty taste morel hunters treasure so dearly.

Before frying

After frying

Before frying

After frying

Even though my hunting was unsuccessful and the morels were expensive, it was worthwhile. Maybe I will try to charm my family's seasoned morel hunters and persuade them to let me tag along on next spring's hunt.

#3. Triple XXX Root Beer

Water is my beverage of choice, but when I occassionally opt for soda, root beer is my favorite. Its creamy vanilla sweetness mixed with the slight tang of sassafrass root makes for a satisfying liquid dessert. Whether it can be attributed to the trademarked original Triple XXX recipe, frosty mug or overall ambience, the root beer served at West Lafayette's Triple XXX restaurant is especially tasty.

Triple XXX root beer

The restaurant, the oldest drive-in in Indiana, is immediately striking, a boldly ugly building painted with wide vertical stripes of black and orange. While the outside may be somewhat deterring, the interior is wholly charming. Customers sit clustered together at a counter on rotating stools. Waitresses chat with customers, chefs can be seen singing and cooking and clients soak up the hearty food and old-time diner atmosphere.

Street view of Triple XXX

In addition to a mug of root bear, I ordered the Duane Pervis burger, an otherwise ordinary cheeseburger slathered with a layer of creamy peanut butter. While I will probably never add peanut butter to a cheeseburger again, it was interesting to try. The layer of peanut butter added an unusual creamy sweetness to the burger that was neither gross nor delicious, but merely existant.

Duane Pervis burger
If you look really closely, you can see bits of peanut butter dripping underneath the burger

Although the burger and fries were good, the root beer was the star of the meal.

After visiting Triple XXX, I toured the surrounding area with my boyfriend, a native of West Lafayette. We walked the quaint streets of the town and visited the town courthouse, a used book store catering to sci-fi and gaming enthusiasts, an antique store and an old-fashioned soda shop.



Lafayette Courthouse

McCord's Candy Shop

We then shopped the commercial Levvy and more locally-focused Chauncey areas. As an IU student, I couldn't help comparing these areas to Bloomington's much cooler Kirkwood area (I admit my bias), but the district was still appealing nonetheless.

After touring the more urban parts of Lafayette and West Lafayette, we toured the Tippecanoe Battlefield. The 1811 Battle of Tippecanoe was important for a variety of reasons:

• It destroyed the Native American hope for the creation of a tribal confederacy
• It brought great success to William Henry Harrison and provided him with credibility that aided in his securing the presidential seat
• It heightened the discontent Americans felt for the British, who armed the Native Americans with British weapons
• This fueled the chasm that led to the War of 1812

Despite its significance, the battlefield was relatively small. Standing inside the fenced-in area that was once a battlefield was an eery feeling. Today, the area is a pretty landscape dotted with towering trees and an attractive commemorative monument, but it is difficult to shake the knowledge that it was once a bloody area where the Americans carried out great injustices against Native Americans.

Battle of Tippecanoe memorial/battleground

  Taking a break from contemplation of human iniquities, we toured the battleground's Nature Center and trails. We crossed the Wabash River, which was surging with brown water from recent heavy rainfall. I was pretty disappointed with the river, which I played up due to its sentimental reference in the state song "Back Home Again in Indiana."

Wabash River

We ended our tour of the area with a quick stop to Prophet's Rock, a unique geological form where the brother of Chief Tecumseh  once chanted and sang songs of prophecy and encouragement to Native American warriors heading to the Battle of Tippecanoe.

Prophet's Rock memorial

Prophet's Rock

Although I came to visit my boyfriend and taste Triple XXX root beer, it was nice to experience the other Indiana college town.

#19. Dine in the Rathskeller's Vonnegut Room

I have had some incredible experiences because of this blog: ziplining into a quarry, climbing Mt. Baldy, unearthing treasure at an Amish flea market, and touring a Southern Indiana cave, to name a few. While I have experienced several mishaps along the way (getting lost, visiting French Lick on an insufferably hot day, etc.), my ventures have usually gone very smoothly. That is, until I attempted to complete #19.

Eating in a restaurant should present very few snafus. Save bad service and food, eating in a restaurant is simple, mindless even: enter the restaurant, sit at a table, pick a menu item, order, eat food, pay bill, exit restaurant. Somehow I managed to entirely muck up this process.

My friend and I entered the Rathskeller, a German restaurant in downtown Indianapolis, at 2 p.m. on a Wednesday afternoon, eager to eat a German lunch. We were informed that lunch ended at 2, but that the bar was open and sandwiches and appetizers "like chicken fingers" were available. Because we wanted to try German food and were under 21, the host suggested that we return at 4 p.m. when dinner would be served. This was mishap #1: arriving after lunch and having to kill two hours before eating.

Luckily this wasn't too much of an issue, as the Rathskeller is across the street from a series of stores on Massachusetts Avenue. My friend and I passed the time by playing with a puppy in Three Dog Bakery, perusing the Fair Trade items in Global Gifts, watching a blue parrot in Stout's Shoe Store, tinkering with toys in Mass Ave Toys, and giggling over cheeky gifts in At Home in the City.

Once 4 o'clock rolled around, we re-entered the Rathskeller. This time, a different host told us that dinner did not start until 5 p.m. By this time our stomachs were growling and the host must have taken pity on our pathetically obvious disappointment, because he offered to seat us anyway. I asked if the Vonnegut Room was available and he replied that he would have to set the room up. Although I considered the offer for a second (I am horrible, I know), I didn't want to be even more of a hassle and we were instead seated in a general dining area. Mishap #2: not sitting in the Vonnegut Room, the whole point of this blogging venture.

Rathskeller dining room

Although I was initially disappointed about this, it really was not a big deal. I have eaten in the Vonnegut Room before, and while it is a beautiful, quiet space, the room in which we were seated was asthetically-pleasing and deserted due to the off 4 o'clock hour.

Pretty stained glass

Not so pretty...

All was going well until we looked at the menu prices. While the lunch menu (what we were expecting to order from before my timing blunder) was reasonably priced, the dinner menu entrees were between  $20 and $30, much higher than what my friend and I are used to paying. I reached for my wallet to make sure I brought enough cash, only to discover that I left my wallet at home--mishap #3.

Luckily my friend had a debit card so it wasn't too much of an issue. We decided to split the Jaegerschnitzel, a breaded center-cut pork loin topped with a sauce of wild mushrooms, shallots, fresh garlic, red wine, and herbs. It came with a salad and two sides. We selected spaetzle noodles and potato pancakes with applesauce as our sides. This was all new to us, and we nervously laughed at the prospect of the food tasting strange given the numerous difficulties we had already encountered for this meal.

Our hesitation was unwarranted: the meal was delicious. The jaegerschnitzel was similar to a tenderloin and the sauce was terrific. The spaetzl noodles were fantastic, comparable to dumplings and very flavorful. The potato pancakes were lightly fried and (surprisingly) paired very well with the sweet cinnamon applesauce.

Jaegerschnitzel, potato pancakes, & spaetzl noodles

The service was great, too, especially considering how weird we must have seemed coming in when they were closed and asking to sit in a room commemorating a dead author.

The closest I came to Mr. Vonnegut: street art on Mass Ave

In spite of the numerous flukes, my visit to the Rathskeller was definitely memorable and filled with tasty food.

#37. Climb the Monument

Punctuating the center of downtown Indianapolis is the 284.5 foot tall Soldiers' and Sailors' Monument. The stately monument is a popular backdrop for wedding photos and the facilitator of the holiday season's Tree of Lights. On any given day, thousands of Hoosiers and tourists alike gaze at this impressive limestone structure paying homage to the state's military veterans. While spectators can undoubtedly appreciate the exterior beauty of the monument, few know what lies inside.

Soldiers' and Sailors' Monument strung with lights for the seasonal Tree of Lights

Located inside the monument are a Civil War museum and an observation deck, both of which are free of charge. The Colonel Eli Lilly Civil War Museum is relatively small and features several collections of authentic wartime items varying from military uniforms to medical equipment. Interactive activities and documentaries add punchy twists to the typical exhibits. 

Civil War doctor's medical kit....yikes!

Civil War military coat

The museum is respectable, especially considering the absence of an admission fee. It is very similar to the Indiana War Memorial Museum that I blogged about here.

After meandering through the museum, my friend and I moved on to the task that brought us here: climbing the monument. Although an elevator is available for $2/person, we decided the only way to get the actual monument experience (and save $2) was to climb the 331 steps to the observation deck. It was a long climb on narrow stairs, but markers counted down the remaining steps. The markers were tremendously motivational and made the ascent significantly easier. 

Once we reached the top and caught our breaths, we took in the view around us. We visited the monument on a bland January day, so the scenery was nothing notably special. Had snow covered the roofs, leaves made a green treetop oasis, or fall foliage burned in the distance, it would have been a beautiful vista. This was not the case, however, so the view was dismally industrial. 

View from the observation deck

Despite the lackluster view, it was a cool experience. I have passed the monument countless times, but before reading the Indianapolis Monthly article I did not know that it was possible to climb the monument. After asking several friends and family members who have lived in Indianapolis their entire lives, I discovered that none of them had visited the interior of the monument. One fellow observer commented, "I lived in Indianapolis for 20 years and never climbed the monument. Why did I wait until I moved away to do this?"

Indianapolis Monthly headquarters across from the Soldiers' and Sailors' Monument

For whatever reason, it seems that relatively few Hoosiers take advantage of this experience. Climbing the monument made me look at Indianapolis with fresh eyes, allowing me to be a tourist in a very familiar city.

#9. Brave the Toboggan at Pokagon State Park

Winter 2011 has been unseasonably mild. While at Indiana University, I rejoiced at the ability to walk to class in December in a thin jacket, but once Christmas rolled around without a flake of snow to be seen, the warm winter had me in low spirits. Happily, snow fell two days after Christmas and exponentially boosted my holiday spirit. Finally in the winter mindset, I decided to tackle #9 on the list of "50 Things Every Hoosier Must Do:" the toboggan run at Pokagon State Park in Angola, IN.

Situated in the northeast corner of Indiana and just 15 minutes south of the Michigan border, Pokagon State Park is home to Indiana's only refrigerated toboggan run. Originally built in 1935 by the Civilian Conservation Corps, the toboggan run consists of two tracks with 90 foot vertical drops. The tracks are refrigerated, so even without snow, riders can enjoy the old-fashioned thrill of tobogganing.

Although I have been sledding countless times, tobogganing was a new experience for me. I am accustomed to cheap plastic saucers; in comparison, the four-person toboggan that we rented seemed to be the Rolls Royce of sleds. The sturdy plastic toboggan was covered in a thin cushion, had straps to hold on to, and its front curled in a fashion reminiscent of elf shoes.

After climbing the 30-foot tower with our toboggan and waiting in line, my three best friends and I crammed on to the toboggan, interlocking legs and arms and losing any sense of personal space. All but one of us was nervous for the drop, but we all agreed that driving three hours only to chicken out was unacceptable. With this communal agreement in mind, we held on to each other with death grips and braced ourselves for what lay ahead of us.

Line for the toboggan run

I was seated in the middle on the first run. Despite this neutral position, I screamed in a mixture of fear and rapture. The four of us catapulted down the track at a surprisingly quick speed. My stomach flipped a few times as the cold air rushed into our faces. A speed radar clocked our toboggan at 32 mph. Although this may not sound like an adrenaline-pumping speed, it feels very fast.

We went on to complete three more runs, alternating seating positions each run. My favorite spot was the front, as the view was unhindered and the blast of the chilly air added to the exhilaration.

The toboggan run was not only incredibly fun, but also very inexpensive. A toboggan rents for $10/hour and entrance to Pokagon is $5/car. Because my friends and I split the cost, I ended up spending only $3.75 at the park. As a college student with a small budget, I really appreciated this low cost.

Because tobogganing was so cheap, we decided to stop for a snack in downtown Angola before embarking on the long drive home. Angola is a small town, but its downtown is adorable, complete with a mini version of Indianapolis' Tree of Lights.

Downtown Angola

Amid a  row of cute shops was Cahoots Coffee Cafe, a spacious cafe with a pool table and an assemblage of vintage seating one would expect to find in a grandparent's living room. We snacked on brownie cookies, a sweet end to our winter excursion.

Cahoots Coffee Cafe

#35. Mount Baldy at the Dunes

Family vacations are a strong tradition in my family. Nearly every summer, four of my father's siblings and families caravan alongside ours to the shores of Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. The drive is long and treacherous--nearly 16 hours of my uncles speeding through the hills of the Smoky Mountains. Every year we begrudge the trip, but once we reach the beach we always forget the miserable commute.

Because of these annual drives to the beach, I always assumed that it was necessary to travel hours to get to a decent beach. I mean why else would we put ourselves through such torture every summer? Thanks to this blogging expedition, however, I uncovered this lifelong scam. Just three hours away lie the Indiana Dunes, a treasure trove of beautiful beaches on Lake Michigan, a body of water large enough to be passed off as an ocean when standing on the shoreline.

My trip to Mount Baldy, a 126-foot high sand dune, followed my trip to the Shipshewana Flea Market. After an hour and a half drive from Shipshewana to Michigan City, the dune loomed large in front of me.

Posterior of dune, as seen from parking lot

As if the sheer size was not enough, a sign at the beginning of the trail to the dune warned of the difficult hike that lay ahead.

Needless to say, I was intimidated. Surprisingly, however, the hike was pretty easy. Paved paths and stairs aided in the ascent; the only difficult part was at the end and lasted for maybe twenty feet. And the view at the top is so beautiful that the last twenty feet are completely worth it.

Looking down at the gorgeous water and feeling the soft sand on my feet, I hardly felt like I was in Indiana. Then I looked to the east and saw a giant coal factory. Oh well, I guess one can't be too picky.

Factory aside, the beach at Mount Baldy was picturesque. I visited around 5 pm, so the beach was largely empty save a few families.

Sand castles left behind by a family

At the shoreline, the sand of the dunes gave way to tiny smooth pebbles. I found the pebbles to be preferable to sand as they are easy to shake off and don't leave one with the annoying lingering graininess of sand. My friend and I waded to our knees in the cool clear water. Once we returned to shore we napped on a sun-dried log, worn out from the long day of driving and shopping.

Basking in the sun on the nearly deserted beach was utterly relaxing. The distant cries of seagulls, soft breeze, and warm sun made for cliched tranquility. After a couple of hours of taking in the beach, we departed for the much less exotic streets of suburbia.

#40. Hunt for Treasure at the Shipshewana Flea Market

Bonnet-topped Amish women and $1 sunglasses may seem completely unrelated, but at the Shipshewana Flea Market the two are harmoniously juxtaposed. Located about 3.5 hours northeast of Indianapolis in the heart of northern Indiana's Amish country is the sprawling Trading Place of America, or Shipshewana Flea Market. From the beginning of May to the end of October, the flea market is open from 8 am to 5 pm. During this time thousands of people come from all over come to take part in this one of a kind shopping experience.

Typical crowd at the Shipshewana Flea Market

This past Wednesday I made the long drive and joined the flea market crowd. The drive was pleasant and pretty, but that is to be expected when driving through Indiana farmland. Nothing was especially notable until I entered Shipshewana. I was surprised to find myself edging toward the center of the lane to make room for galloping horses pulling buggies in the shoulder. Men with full beards and wide brimmed hats sat in the buggies, unperturbed by the cars zooming uncomfortably close to them. Having never visited Amish country, it was very interesting to see the archaic Amish culture side by side with the modern amenities I take for granted on a daily basis.

I began the trip by strolling through Yoder's Meat and Cheese Market. Samples of cheese and meat cubes were available and even encouraged. I happily sampled the offerings and immediately warmed to the flea market.

Fortified by the makeshift h'ors d'oeuvres, I began snaking my way through the more than 900 booths. Fresh fruits, vegetables, and breads tempted visitors upon their immediate entrance. Beyond that laid an overwhelming variety of some of the most random, useless, but inexplicably necessary knick knacks known to man. Dog clothing, tacky lawn decorations, and creepy crying baby dolls could be found in addition to actually useful things like beautiful quilts, athletic socks, and economy-sized shampoo.

Handmade quilts were a common commodity

I really enjoy thrift and antique stores for the hunt involved, as well as the low prices. Luckily one of my best friends shares this affinity and together we were perfect shopping companions. We took our time, stopping in a variety of booths and carefully considering our purchases. Our approach was leisurely; we had nothing specific to search for and instead enjoyed the lazy wandering. I may be biased, but I feel this is the best way to tackle a flea market. Hidden gems are much more likely to be uncovered when one slows down.

My favorite stalls were those peddling jewelry and antiques. I love vintage jewelry and glassware, and the flea market was filled with both.

Although I made a wide variety of purchases, my favorites are the vintage jewelry that I bought. I was able to buy two necklaces, a bracelet, a pendant, and a pair of earrings for $15.

There are other cool things about the flea market besides what I brought home. Chatting with the shopkeepers, enjoying the pleasant weather, people watching, and trying on wigs in a wig store were all memorable parts of the day.

After several hours of shopping, my friend and I were ready to eat. We ate at the Auction Restaurant, an Amish eatery. The lunch was not especially great, but the piece of blueberry pie that I split with my friend was. Warm pie crust filled with fresh blueberries and whipped cream was the perfect end to a lovely day at the flea market.

Weird lighting, excellent pie