Day 108, Shuttling Around Indiana, 70 Miles
“... give in any way you can, of whatever you possess. To give is to love. To withhold is to wither. Care less for your harvest than for how it is shared and your life will have meaning and your heart will have peace.”
"Where are you going next?"
"I'm sorry." Or perhaps a person would say, "What for?" Or, "What could you possibly see there?"
So we entered the Hoosier State with low expectations. And once again, Indiana cleared the hurdle easily. We headed toward South Bend and stopped at a (PP!) KOA which happened to be near Amish country. But first:
If you have traveled and camped in a little tent trailer for three plus months and it rained last night on that little tent trailer, a really smart idea would be to take your wife to an RV factory for a tour.
We toured the Thor facilities and watched huge Class A motorhomes being built with toilets, showers, ovens, heaters, A/C units and deep, cushy beds.
So we succumbed to impulse buying, refinanced the house, sold two pints of blood each, and will continue in two weeks in a 33' motorhome, complete with chrome wheels and awnings.
Okay, maybe not.
But they sure are nice.
Mr. Sun reappeared today and he was our friend, drying the tent, the bike, gloves, helmets and renewing our resolve. We took care of business (post office for gifts, and Wal-Mart for prescriptions). Stop!
We interrupt this blog for a Rave.
I love Wal-Mart.
The Amish ride around on the shoulders of the roads with their beautifully appointed buggies. There's a few things I don't 'get' about the Amish, and hopefully, I can screw up my courage and talk with one of them. They believe that they should dress and act simply and nothing should draw attention to themselves. Except their buggies, which are impressive. Come on! It seems like their simple life is complicated. Dashing down the street in a one horse open buggy, avoiding cars and trucks, just seems like more work. Farming with elementary tools. I don't see what moral or practical reason can dictate a life like theirs.
Either be vain or don't I say. Same with their quilts. They don't want to draw attention to themselves so they dress in paper sacks, but their quilts? Speaking of that, the back of my jacket is soaked from QG drooling all day, with quilt shops, Amish quilt displays, and quilt patterns on buildings. It's like an alcoholic at Oktoberfest. We stopped at a couple of shops and I chatted up other widowers in the parking lot while she headed to the shops, a trail of drool on the sidewalk. She emerged with fabric that was so awesome I wouldn't believe it and isn't it just beautiful? Yes, yes.
For dinner we tried Das Dutchman Essenhaus which translated means, 'Good food at a fair price.'
I ordered Manhattan Turkey, an open faced sandwich with turkey (duh) and mashed potatoes with gravy slathered all over everything. Simple (Amish) and pretty good. QG enjoyed the baked steak, very delicious. But the fresh peach pie? Oh my. Those peaches hung on a tree yesterday and were sliced this morning. They go in the cooked pie crust cold and get a layer of whipped cream. Delicious. Maybe the Amish have something going after all.
Back to the little trailer (after those Class A's, it looks pretty small!) and we are warm and dry. And don't have a mortgage on an RV.
Another day of adventure.