Summer road trip: Bourbon, candy, & ice cream (day 5)

A red hot candy from Schimpff’s Confectionery

As someone certified as a nutrition coach, I know how important food is to our physical health. The phrase “food is fuel” is a frequent one in my industry. I know how many servings of carbohydrates, fats, proteins and vegetables a person should have in a day. I know how the micronutrients of different foods affect our health, and which foods to eat for different nutrient deficiencies. I know the power food has in our body, that it can be used as medicine for a number of different ailments, and it can also be a catalyst for a number of diseases.

I also know that food is more than just fuel. Good food is made with passion and love. Our sense of taste and a certain food can take us back to meaningful moments in our lives. Food plays a role in culture, family, holidays and special events. Food can be comforting. If we are honest with ourselves, our most favorite foods are most often not the foods that are the healthiest for our bodies, but rather evoke feelings and memories that are meaningful to us. 

When planning our itinerary, I had not meant to create a day of our trip entirely dedicated to food, but day five was exactly that – no hiking, no boat rides through caverns, no long drives. Just food experience after food experience for an entire day. And to be honest, it was one of the days I was most looking forward to.

We began our morning with a short drive back into Louisville and then a walk under the hot sun to the Angel’s Envy distillery. As I mentioned in my first blog post for this trip, I had planned this road trip for Joseph’s birthday, and this tour was included just for him. Joseph’s drink of choice is bourbon, and his favorite bourbon is Angel’s Envy. I will admit, bourbon has always tasted, at best, like hand sanitizer to me, but I was still very excited for the tour because I knew Joseph would love it.

When we walked in, an older gentleman behind the front desk greeted us as Sir and Lady Mauler from Maryland

“Do you know what the state sport is in Maryland?” he asked. Both Joseph and I looked at each other blankly. “This will be important for the tour later.”

“Um…baseball?” I asked.

“No.”

“Basketball?” Joseph proposed.

“Lacrosse?”

Jousting,” the man said. 

“Really?” I asked, surprised. The older man’s eyes twinkled.

“Yes, jousting, remember that.” He looked down at his computer. “And I see this is a special occasion, a birthday.” I grinned as the man reached into his desk and then handed Joseph a silver Angel’s Envy lapel pin. The gentleman told us to meet him back in the lobby at the time of our tour, and then directed us into the adjacent gift shop. Joseph and I perused the items until the time came, when we joined our group.

A distillery room at Angel’s Envy

The older gentleman introduced himself as our tour guide, and then went around to ask where everyone was from. When he got to us, he paused after we said our state, and then asked again,

“What’s the state sport in Maryland?”

“Um, I think it’s…jousting,” Joseph said, feigning a faint memory.

“Really?” someone asked, surprised. “I didn’t know that.”

“Neither did they,” the tour guide said, and I couldn’t help but laugh. 

Our tour guide lead us into the first room, where we were greeted with a wall of photos. He told us about the history of Angel’s Envy – how it was started by a father and son, both of whom were distillers. We learned about the strict laws surrounding bourbon – that it must be made in the United States; made using at least fifty-one percent corn; aged for at least two years in new, charred-oak barrels; must not be distilled higher than 160 proof; and must not contain any flavorings or colorings, among other strict guidelines. Angel’s Envy, apparently, made quite a stir when it hit the market because there is a special flavor to it that is unlike other bourbons. The bourbon policers (whomever those people may be) said it could not be a bourbon because they must have added some sort of flavoring. But, in fact, no flavoring had been added – after doing all the necessary requirements for it to be bourbon, Angel’s Envy distilled their bourbon a second time in a port wine casks, which gives it its distinct flavor. To avoid any grumblings, they labelled their product as a “finished” bourbon.

We were lead through the distillery to see how the ingredients are milled and fermented, and we were given the opportunity to taste the bourbon at all different phases. We first tried the fermented corn mash, which had the texture of porridge and had a sour taste. We were then given the opportunity to taste the bourbon in its purest form, when it was still clear, before being poured into barrels to age. It was poured into our hands, and we were encouraged to splash a little on our cheeks and take a small sip, if we dared. The liquid burned against my skin like aftershave and stung my brain. I was left gasping for air, both from the burning shock and surprised laughter.

We watched workers bottle the brown elixir, and learned that the company just recently received a machine to label the bottles. Until about a month ago, every bottle was labeled by hand. We were then lead into a beautiful, wooden room, where upon a long table two snifters filled with brown liquid and two chocolates, one dark and one white, had been placed at each seat. 

“I’ve had many people, mostly women, come up and tell me before the tour that they don’t like bourbon,” our tour guide said. “Most of them bought this tour as a gift for their husbands.” I glanced at Joseph with a stifled laugh. “And I tell them that’s fine. But I’ve had a lot of converts in this room.” 

Our tour guide lifted a glass and swirled the drink. He taught us how to gaze at the amber color, how to sniff with our mouths open so we could taste the fumes. And then, we each took a sip and were instructed to hold it in our mouths, to swish it around with the “Kentucky chew” to coat each part of our mouths, and then swallow to let it burn all the way down. It rested warm in my chest, what our tour guide called the “Kentucky hug.” 

Our delicious pairing of bourbon, whiskey and chocolates

The burn from drinking whiskey is from our brains panicking when alcohol is consumed. Our brains turn off our taste buds in an effort to protect us. But after a moment, our brain realizes the experience was not as bad as it originally thought, and it turns everything back on. And since everything has now been coated with the liquid, we have acclimated ourselves. Now, we can taste the actual notes and intimate tastes of the bourbon.

I took another sip, and my eyes widened in shock. It was sweet like maple syrup and finished with a bitter aftertaste reminiscent chocolate and vanilla. The burn was entirely gone, and I was left instead with one of the most delicious drinks I had ever tasted. We paired the drink with the dark chocolate, which had been infused with orange, and it literally tasted like a bite of fruity pebbles cereal. 

Our guide served us next with the same drink on ice, or “on the rocks.” The cold enhanced the flavors and made the drink more aromatic. We were then encouraged to try the drink in our second sifter – a rye whiskey finished in a rum barrel. This drink, too, was smooth and subtly sweet – I could taste the sweet rum notes balanced by earthy undertones. When paired with the white chocolate beside it, a gorgeous cinnamon and maple flavor emerged that tasted like pancakes. 

I had not expected myself to be so easily converted. Joseph literally jumped for joy when I told him how much I loved the bourbon, and as we walked the Louisville streets to get some food, we talked about all the delicious ways we could now enjoy this drink together.

For brunch, we went to Con Huevos, a fast-food Mexican breakfast and lunch spot. Joseph ordered carne asada tacos, and I ordered a muchos huevos sandwich as a salad. The food was fine – nothing to call home about, but it was warm, tasty and filled our stomachs, and that was all we needed. 

We walked the local shops, all of which were much too far out of our budget, and then strode back to our car to drive to Schimpff’s Confectionery, a candy shop in Jeffersonville that is one of the oldest, continuously operated and family-owned candy businesses in the United States. Open since 1891, this candy shop located in downtown Jeffersonville offers not only a wide array of candy, but also a 1950s soda fountain, a room dedicated to candy-making memorabilia, and a long counter separated by a class partition where customers can watch the candy be made just as it was a hundred years ago.

Schimpff’s Confectionery

When we arrived, the next demonstration was forty-five minutes away, but we had nothing important to get to, so we decided to stay. I was so glad we did. We walked the shop, perusing the candies and old equipment. We were surprised to find a cast used to create root beer barrels just like the ones Joseph bought from the historic candy shop we went to in Harpers Ferry just a few days before. We came across wooden machine with levers, and an older gentleman walked up and told us it was the first vending machine. He asked if we had any coins. Unfortunately, I did not, but I told him it was still cool to see it. The man looked around, and then he reached behind the machine for a small bowl filled with coins. He handed one to me with a wink. 

Excitedly, I entered the coin and chose a peanut butter flavored candy. I pushed the lever, and a panel of wood dropped down to reveal the candy I had chosen on a small shelf. I cannot even describe the amount of childlike glee that filled me when I saw it happen. Joseph and I walked back to the counter to watch the demonstration that was about to begin, and I was surprised to see the gentleman who had told us about the vending machine was the candy maker! It was his family who had owned this shop for over a century.

His wife, an older woman with grandmotherly presence, sat in a chair beside him, and she explained the process as we watched her husband pour the red candy; fold, massage and pull it to the consistency and and shape he wanted; cut it to size; and then roll sheets of the candy through a press to create rows and rows of square-shaped mounds. He took the sheets of candies and dropped them onto the counter, where they broke apart and scattered into perfect little cubes of bright red, cinnamon candies.

The candies were placed in each of our palms, and I was surprised to find they were still warm to the touch. Red Hots have never been my favorite candy, but when I popped this one in my mouth, I was immediately whisked away to the flavor of Christmas morning. The cinnamon was subtle, sweet and warm, more reminiscent of a cinnamon roll than a Fireball shot. 

After the demonstration, we bought a whiskey truffle to enjoy on our way back to the car. Our next stop was the Mainstrasse Village in Covington, KY, a German-American village and a historic district in the National Register of Historic Places. It was a little difficult to find, but once we did, we were greeted with a large mural of Frida Kahlo and charming buildings that looked like they jumped off the page of a storybook.

We chose to go to Bouquet Restaurant and Wine Bar for dinner, one of the most highly-rated restaurants by Cincinnati Magazine. We decided to splurge a little and treat ourselves to a tasting menu, which gave us the option to choose one dish from each section of the menu, and we enjoyed it with their offering of wine pairings for each dish. Normally, Joseph and I do not share dishes – our taste in foods is quite different. But we were each feeling a little adventurous, and Joseph shocked me by thoroughly enjoying every plate set before us. He is normally a much pickier eater than I am, but tonight, it warmed my heart to be able to share my love of food with him in a way I never had been able to before. 

The maple leaf farms duck from Bouquet Restaurant and Wine Bar

Each dish was elegantly prepared. We began with a strawberry salad drizzled with balsamic reduction and topped with spring onion pesto, pepitas, and Kentucky rose cheese. For our second course, we chose the wagyu beef meatballs, which were served on top of a earthy butternut squash and black garlic puree, drizzled with a balancing herb gremolata and topped with a spicy chili crisp. Our third course was the famous maple leaf farms duck, which was served with a medley of mushrooms, roasted carrots, kale, and smoked grapes, served on top of an earthy parsnip purée and drizzled with a tangy balsamic gastrique. For dessert, we shared the coconut cake, which was dusted with a coconut snow and toasted coconut flakes and topped with a scoop of sweet and citrusy mango sorbet. For each dish, we savored each note and shared what we loved most and of the memories the flavors evoked. 

After our meal and far too many glasses of wine, we walked the shops and savored the sweet evening. Our stomachs were still far too full when we decided to head to our next stop – an ice cream shop. I thought I would burst from the amount of sweets I had eaten already, but we were told by locals we could not leave without trying the famous ice cream from Graeter’s. Joseph ordered a scoop each of Dutch chocolate and coffee chip. I went for something a little lighter to round out the evening and ordered a scoop of lemon sorbet. We sat outside to enjoy our treat under the warm glow of the evening sun, our frozen treats melting in the warm air and against our tongues. 

My love for food was something that inspired me to get certified in nutrition. In my own journey, which, as it is for most, has been filled with both negative and positive relationships with different foods, I have learned how much of a role food plays in our lives. Food is fuel, and it is also so much more than that. Food is medicine, and it is also art. Food can be comforting, off-putting, healing, or sickening. It can be new and exciting, or cultural and familial. Food can be used to learn more about new people and places. How exciting is it to go share your favorite food with a new friend? How familial and possibly annoying can the question, “Where do you want to eat tonight?” become among couples? How comforting is a warm bowl of soup when you are sick, or your mother’s cooking when you just feel homesick? Would life be as sweet without the first refreshing, juicy bite of watermelon in the summer, or the first sip of thick, hot cocoa during the holiday season? 

Me popping the champagne when we opened our new Evolve Wellness office

I tell my clients that food is, in fact, fuel, but to think of fueling more than just their physical bodies. Food also fuels our minds and our souls. Eating mindlessly does nothing for us, but mindfully eating a scoop of ice cream and savoring the creaminess on our tongues as we watch the sunset and savor summer? I think that does much more good than it does harm. Yes, we should take care of our physical bodies, and food plays an enormous role in that. But I do believe taste is one of our main senses for a reason, and it’s not so we can punish ourselves by eating celery all day. 

Taste is meant to remind us of moments we have left behind, and to savor the ones we have now. We use the phrase “I can almost taste it,” for something exciting that is coming. We reserve our lips and tongues only for the sweetest things in life, and there is something beautiful in that. So, fuel your bodies, eat from the earth, and heal yourself with food, movement and love. And then, when you want it, give yourself a big scoop of ice cream and savor it in the summer sun’s glow. And if you feel like that’s the wrong thing to do, remind yourself just how much you loved ice cream as a child, how much that little one deserves this scoop of joy, and that your friendly, traveling nutrition coach told you eating ice cream for your inner child is even more healing than eating the “healthier” alternative. 

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Summer road trip: Mammoth Cave & Jeffersonville (day 4)

Joseph & me out to dinner at Harry’s Tap House in Jeffersonville

The fierce and hot Indiana sun awoke us as it streamed into our tent, baking us inside. We unzipped our tent door and gratefully gulped in the fresh air on the other side. The day had only just begun, and already, there was sweat dripping down my forehead and back. 

Today’s plan was to drive south to Mammoth Cave in Kentucky. We stopped for coffee on the way and listened to our book on tape. When we arrived, we found the parking lot filled almost to capacity. I highly recommend booking your tour ahead of time, which, thankfully, I had the forethought to do before our trip.

We ate a quick lunch at our car and then walked around the air-conditioned discovery center and shop. I particularly enjoyed learning about how the caves formed and the other life forms that live within them. Mammoth Cave was formed naturally through karst topography, or limestone erosion. The caves have been forming since 10,000,000 BCE, when rainwater first began to dissolve the limestone and form the first passages of the cave system. The caves were first explored and mined by Native Americans 5,000 years ago. There are multiple wildlife species that live in the caves, including crayfish, bats and, my personal favorite, the eyeless cave fish. These fish have evolved to the lack of light in the caves by ceasing the growth of their eyes. White in color and only a couple inches in length, these fish can go months without eating and live thirty to forty years! Considering the lifespan of this fish, the amount of time it can go without eating, and its lack of sight, I still find myself thinking about them and wondering how they spend their time.

When the time for our tour arrived, we gathered with our group at a pavilion outside, where we were given our safety instructions and a lantern with a flame dancing inside. We walked down a steep, paved slope together to the mouth of the cave.

The air cooled around us. I pulled on my jacket and held the lantern a little closer. The light faded away, leaving only the artificial lights that had been placed around the cave and the lanterns we held in our hands. We passed by other groups gathered in the cave, who watched with interest as we passed. I had signed us up for the Violet City Lantern Tour, the only tour in the cave that is done entirely in lantern light, just as early explorers would have seen the caves.

As we delved deeper into the cave system, all other lights faded away. We walked with our lanterns held at our sides, our eyes flitting around the dark cave walls as they adjusted to the dim light. We could see very little than the few feet around us, lit by the warm glow. The wide trails narrowed into winding dirt paths, the same historic trails early explorers followed. While we walked, our tour guide told us more about the history of the caves. We passed small, stone huts, and our guide told us about the tuberculosis patients who were “treated” here because it was believed there was something special about the clean and cool cave air. We learned about the dangers early explorers faced and the Kentucky Cave Wars, when developers and promoters of the cave fought over tourists to show them their section of the cave system. We peered at ancient drawings and gaped down at steep drops beside our feet that seemed to end in nothingness. 

In the cave during the Violet City Lantern Tour at Mammoth Cave

The tour lasted a total of three hours, but the time passed quicker than expected. I was shocked by the sticky warmth that greeted us when we emerged from the caves at the edge of a road surrounded by thick, green foliage. A tired bus chugged up the hill to meet us. 

We rode back to the visitors center and then hopped back into our car to drive to the edge of Kentucky and Indiana, where our first and only Airbnb of the trip was located. I am always surprised at how luxurious showers feel after days of going without one. Despite the heat outside, I could not help myself from turning the water to scalding and relaxing in its spray.

We dressed in clean clothes and drove to Louisville, KY, where we strode across the Big Four Pedestrian Bridge back into Jeffersonville, IN. As we walked, we watched the orange sun dip behind the clouds as we listened to classical music playing from speakers overhead. 

In Jeffersonville, we decided to dine at Harry’s Tap House, where we could sit outside and watch the bridge light up as the sky darkened. We were served by a young, blonde woman with a thick Kentucky accent. To drink, I ordered a summertime sangria made with peach schnapps and sweet peach puree. For an appetizer, we chose the pretzel and beer cheese – the fried Klaus pretzel, made by a renowned local baker in Louisville, was served hot with a creamy house-made beer cheese dip. I am sorry to say this, because I have visited Pennsylvania on numerous occasions and always ordered a famous Philly pretzel, but I think it was the best pretzel I have ever eaten. Crisp on the outside, soft on the inside, with the perfect, mouth-watering amount of salt, it melted against my tongue and felt warm in my chest. I wished I had ordered three more and just had that for my meal.

For dinner, I ordered the mango bourbon salmon, a chilean salmon served with refreshing mango salsa. It was served with a sweet Thai broccoli smothered in sauce, and in place of the rice, I ordered a side of Brussels sprouts that were also drenched in an Asian sauce. Joseph ordered the smokehouse burger, which was a half pound burger served with crispy bacon, smoked cheddar cheese, beer battered onion rings, and tangy barbecue sauce. 

Stomachs bursting, we walked back to the Big Four Pedestrian Bridge, which was now lit up against the night sky. I savored the walk across, taking in the view of the skyline beneath the white moon and the blue lights of the bridge that glittered against the black water below.

The Big Four Pedestrian Bridge at night

It was amazing to go in one day from marveling at the walls of a cave to gazing at the tall buildings of a city – a wonder created by nature, and another created by man. Our travels have not yet taken us outside of the United States, and I find myself often wishing to see something truly old. Most of what we have seen in our travels has been created within the last couple hundred years, whereas, in countries like Europe, you could marvel at a building that is centuries old. Today, however, I was reminded that, even if our buildings had not been erected that long ago, we still have structures here that are just as ancient – mountains, rivers, trees and caves. And that made me wonder just how many parts of nature I see regularly, even around my own home, and take for granted. I wonder how long the trees in my backyard have stood there, how long the rivers gushing around my home have existed, how many others have walked this land before me, and how different it must have looked then. 

There is something amazing to be seen anywhere, if only we take the time to look. And sometimes, we may be surprised to discover the wonders we are looking for are actually hidden beneath our feet. 

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Summer road trip: Waterfalls, caverns & Santa Claus (day 3)

Joseph & me at Cataract Falls

What about your life excites you? What makes you get up out of bed in the morning and stay motivated during your day? For some of us, it’s simple, like our morning cup of coffee, followed by an afternoon cup later on. For others, we are inspired by our work or our families.

I realized on my very first trip with Joseph that exhaustion does not quite hit the same way on the road as it does at home. Excited for every day and the new experiences it would bring, I could survive on limited sleep and caffeine for days. Back at home, I require a full eight hours and some activity requiring me to pull myself out of bed early, or I will sleep even longer.

Today, after two very full days and nights with little sleep, that exhaustion was beginning to rise, but we still rose with the sun, packed up our car, and drove to our first stop as if we were much better rested than we were. We started our day at Cataract Falls, a recreation area with the largest waterfall in Indiana. Technically, it’s two waterfalls that create one big waterfall – the upper falls has a fall of twenty feet, while the lower falls (half a mile downstream) has a plunge of eighteen feet. We started at the upper falls, where we held ourselves up on the railing to avoid stepping onto the flooded wooden platform. The sound of the rushing water was deafening. The falls glided over the rocks and plunged into the water below. Lush greenery surrounded the water and sparkled with water droplets.

We walked through the woods to the next set of falls, which flowed down into a river where children were splashing in the water. Despite having traveled and fallen so far, the water was surprisingly calm, and that peace seemed to emanate into us as we gazed at the gorgeous cascades.

Upper Cataract Falls

Our next stop was Indianapolis, another surprisingly clean city. Our plan had been to go to the City Market, which was similar to yesterday’s West Side Market, though it seemed there were many more ready-to-eat food options available. However, we arrived a little too early and found most of the shops were not open yet. Stomachs grumbling, we decided to hunt for food elsewhere. After a quick search, we settled on a local brunch chain called Wild Eggs, which was only a half-mile walk away.

From the eclectic and bright, egg-themed decor to the variety of tasty menu options made with fresh and local ingredients, it was clear why this spot was so highly rated. Joseph and I sat at a booth and pointed and laughed to the many different paintings featuring eggs on top of mushrooms, arranged to look like flowers, inside avocados, and more. 

For our meal, we ordered one of their special appetizers, breakfast popcorn, which was thick cut bacon drenched in syrup and served with a spicy dipping sauce. As someone who does not eat a lot of meat, it was not my favorite dish, but Joseph would have eaten the entire plate if I had not reminded him he still had his meal coming. Joseph ordered chicken and waffles, which were perfectly crispy and fluffy and tasted the perfect blend of sweet and salty with some syrup drizzled on top. I ordered the farmers market skillet, a blend of bell peppers, zucchini, yellow squash, wild mushrooms, broccoli, oven-roasted tomatoes, and home-fried potatoes, topped with melted cheddar cheese with two basted eggs like little suns sitting in clouds, all served in a white skillet serving dish. On the side, I received a homemade blueberry muffin that was so delicious, I couldn’t help but eat despite my stomach being close to bursting. To drink, Joseph ordered the chocolate kiss, a hot coffee spiked with coffee liqueur, Irish cream and creme de cocoa, topped with a generous dollop of whipped cream. There were a variety of mimosas also available – I chose the orange pineapple mimosa, which was a bright sweet and citrusy treat. 

Breakfast at Wild Eggs in Indianapolis

Stomachs groaning from the amount of food, we decided to walk around for a little while. We stopped for coffee at Starbucks, where we also purchased our first Been There series mug of the trip, and then perused the shops. We took note of the colorful streets adorned with flags of all colors of the rainbow, which I was surprised to see considering the conservative lean of the state. However, I learned later that Indianapolis is a dark blue section of the state surrounded by much more red. Therefore, pride flags were everywhere to see, and they were, well, proud of it. One of our favorite shops was Silver in the City, an unconventional gift store that sells jewelry, clothing, bags, books, and more. I am not sure if the store was just in Pride theme for June, or if it always has a similar collection, but Joseph and I both dragged each other around the store, smiling and laughing at the creative, funny and affirming items for sale.

Our stomachs now a bit more comfortable, we drove to Bluespring Caverns. The park does not take reservations for their boat tours, so we needed to arrive early enough that we would not miss our opportunity, and hopefully at a time where we would not be waiting too long for the next available tour. We pulled in just as the next tour was about to leave. We hurried inside, paid for our tour, and joined the group descending down the slippery sidewalk into the caverns below.

Even while we could still see sunlight, the air grew cold around us. I slipped into my jacket and stepped carefully down the steep decline to where boats were tied to a pier built beneath the ground. We sat on the benches in the boat, and our tour guide sat at the back to guide us through the caverns in the longest navigable underground river in the United States.

The caverns grew dim and quiet. The motor of the boat was so soft, we could still hear the occasional drip of water or scuttle of a cave fish below. The walls were slick and glinted in the boat’s light, although we were told not to touch them. The oils on our hands would immediately cease the growth of these formations. We floated through, gazing in wonder at the limestone formations. We learned on our tour that Indiana is known for its minerals, particularly limestone, which has been used in the capital in DC and the Taj Mahal in India. For this reason, anyone who owns land above ground also owns anything underneath their property. 

As we reached a larger room where our boat could rest, our tour guide gave us the unique opportunity to experience the complete removal of our senses. First, we were given the opportunity to experience total silence – everyone was instructed to be quiet. Immediately, the caverns fell silent around us. There was not a single sound – not a drop of water, not an animal scuttling along the walls, not even my own heartbeat. For the first time in my life, I truly understood the phrase, “silence is deafening.” Faced with such a complete lack of noise, my ears strained hard to hear anything, and they seemed to create almost a faint ringing in my head, reminiscent of the way it sounds after a loud concert. 

The view from our boat in Bluespring Caverns

After this, we were plunged in total darkness. Our tour guide instructed us to put away all phones and cameras and turned off the lights of the boat. Darkness more complete than I had ever experienced encased us. It felt thick and suffocating. I could not even see my own hand in front of my face. I had thought before, on dark nights, I knew what darkness was, but this, underneath the ground and away from all forms of natural and artificial light, was like something out of a nightmare.

With the lights back on, our tour guide gave us one last experience of cave thunder. She took a seat cushion in her hands and, after instructing us all to remain silent, banged it against the benches. The resounding echoes through the caverns ricocheted off the walls, creating a sound reminiscent of thunder slowly rolling across the landscape. I smiled at the sound, remembering humid summer nights with lightning streaking across the sky and rain throwing itself against my windows as I sat curled with a book, watching the storm.

Joseph and I left the tour, both marveling at the unique experience – it had truly been unlike anything we had ever done before. Our travels often take us to places high in the sky, but never had we traveled so far below the ground.

Our next stop was Santa Claus, IN. Despite the time change working in our favor, we still arrived at the town much later than we had hoped. After checking the clock, we realized most of the town’s attractions were closing in just five minutes.

The Santa Claus statue outside of the Santa Claus Museum in Santa Claus, IN

Joseph, who knows just how much I love Christmas and was looking forward to visiting, did not want us to miss our opportunity. He pulled the car onto the road fast and sped to the Santa Claus Museum, just two minutes before it closed. We found the door to the museum already locked, but lights were still on inside. I gave a tentative knock, hating myself for doing so – I remembered all too well my days in customer service, and the feeling of closing up shop when no customers were in the store, only to have someone arrive a few minutes before I was able to leave.

The door opened, and we found two women inside.

“We know you’re about to close, but can we just have a quick look around?” Joseph asked. The woman behind the desk smiled at us and gestured for us to come in. 

“I’ve got this,” she said to the woman at the door. “You can go home.” She turned on the lights for us and asked if we had ever been here before. When we said we hadn’t, she explained the layout of the museum to us – where we could learn more about the history of the town, read letters written to Santa Claus all the way back to the early 1900s, the gift shop, the model train room, and Santa’s office. She seemed disappointed we would not have the entire experience, and after a while, she ended up turning on Christmas lights and music for us to enjoy while we perused.

“Take your time,” she repeated to us multiple times. “Enjoy it.” As I gleefully skipped to another room with the excitement of a child on Christmas morning, I heard Joseph tell the woman just how much I love the holiday and how special this was.

We read about the history of the town – originally called Santa Fee, the town applied for a post office in the 1850s. Its application was rejected because there was another town called Santa Fe in Indiana. According to legend, it was Christmas Eve, and the town was gathered to discuss new possible names. Suddenly, a gust of wind blew open the doors to the church, and sound of sleigh bells drifted inside. The children ran to the door shouting, “Santa Claus!” And thus, the name of the town was decided. 

For over a hundred years, letters have poured into Santa Claus, IN from children with their Christmas wishes. Every December, letters have been written back, by the volunteer “elves” or even the ultimate postmaster, Santa Claus himself. 

We read through the letters, which brought us both to laughter and tears at the childhood love and innocence captured inside. It was neat to compare the wishes of children in the early 20th century to now, and surprisingly, they did not seem all that different. We watched the train circle the track and turned the globe on Santa’s desk. When we were finished, the woman handed us a set of keys and gave us the opportunity to go into the historic church and post office, where we would have the opportunity to write a letters of our own.

The church was as it was years ago, with a partition as soon as you walked in to separate men and women. At the front, an almost life-size nativity sat. I sat down in a wooden pew and was reminded vividly of a field trip when I was in elementary school to a one-room schoolhouse. This place was just as old and filled with memories. 

We met our guide at the post office, where we were given papers and pencils to write our letters. We sat in desks designed for much smaller people and, after a moment of thinking, began to write. 

The post office in Santa Claus, IN where we got to write our letters

We thanked our host profusely before we left – she had given us almost an hour of her time, when she should have been home by now. She informed us this was her job after retirement, and she does it simply because she loves it so much. It had been a truly heartwarming experience for us, and multiple times I was brought to tears by just how grateful I was that we had not missed it.

We stopped by the store for some more wine and charcuterie (we had not had our fill the night before), and drove to our campsite. There, we started a fire and sat beside a lake as we ate and watched the sky slowly dim from blue to pink to indigo.

Christmas means quite a lot to me. There was a period in my life when every day, the first thing I did when I woke up was check how many days there were left until the holiday. Until this day, I still start planning my gifts in July. Joseph and I do activities all December long to celebrate advent, and we most likely will be celebrating Christmas in July as well. The thing that got me up in the morning, for many years, was just that one special day.

It seems silly, but for me, Christmas was something to look forward to when there was not much else in my life to be excited about. I had a very long hospital stay in the month of December when I was in high school, and I got out just in time for Christmas. Still frail and very dejected, I remember, in the middle of Christmas baking at home alone, climbing onto the counter to be closer to the radio so I could listen to Christmas song playing as tears streamed down my face. It felt like Christmas had almost been stolen from me, and I vowed to never let that happen again. As my health worsened, I looked forward all year to the holiday season, which was so filled with love and joy that it spilled light into what was the darkest time in my life. 

I am grateful now to have so much more worth waking up for. I do not remember when I stopped checking the Christmas countdown daily – it probably faded to every couple days, to once a month, to now the occasional check every couple months and the stir of excitement I still feel when I see the numbers tick down. And as my need for Christmas cheer year-round faded, I filled that space with joy from other areas of my life – strong friendships, sharing my writing, my career, my ever-improving health, my adoring husband, traveling the country, my sweet puppy

Christmas may seem to be an odd thing to motivate someone, but for me, it quite literally saved my life in a lot of ways. And when I think about it, it does not seem to me to be such an awful thing to rely on. It is dependable – it comes every year, whether we want it to or not. It is filled with family gatherings, normally whether we want that or not, too. And no matter what, it has a crisp air filled with hope, a joy that warms even the frostiest hearts, and a love that surpasses understanding. For me, as I have found hope elsewhere in my life, I have tried to carry those values with me, so maybe I can bring a little of that spirit anywhere I go. After all, I think we all could use a little more joy, love and hope. 

Me at the Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree in New York City last December

No matter what it is that excites you to wake up in the morning, the glimmers you find throughout your day, the hope that keeps you alive, embrace it. Others may find it strange to find an adult running through Santa Claus, IN with more excitement than any child visiting, or, as I have encountered more often in my life, people unfortunately often chastise others for talking too much about their passions, for being “obsessed” with the things they love. There is nothing wrong with enjoying this life, with noticing the little things others take for granted, for being excited about something that brings you joy. Embrace your glimmers and hold them tight to your heart.

And if you want to share them with someone, I’m always here with a cup of coffee and an eager ear. More than anything else, my biggest glimmer has become listening to others speak about what they are passionate about, even if it holds no interest to me. I love seeing that light brighten in someone’s eyes, to listen to their voice pick up speed and pitch and watch as their hands start move enthusiastically as they speak. I love just being human with someone. It gives me hope to listen to other people’s stories and to encourage their passions. 

Thank you for listening to and encouraging mine.

Map created using Wanderlog, a road trip planner on iOS and Android
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