Monday, 22 September
The Drive
It was raining heavily for most of the drive, the windshield wipers working overtime as sheets of water blurred the fields and towns along the way. Leaving Clifty Falls State Park through the south entrance, we followed IN-256 west to Austin, where we merged onto I-65 North. From there we took I-465 to skirt Indianapolis, only to learn from the GPS that an accident ahead was causing a 57-minute delay. It rerouted us onto slower surface roads, where we crept through stoplights and traffic in the downpour before finally reconnecting with the interstate. The drive around Indianapolis was the most stressful—lanes crowded with cars and semi-trucks kicking up spray that made visibility difficult.
Once we cleared the city and merged onto I-69, the mood shifted. The traffic thinned, and the road stretched north across central Indiana’s farmland, where fields of corn and soybeans spread beneath a gray, rain-soaked sky. Small towns appeared at intervals, each marked by a water tower or a brick courthouse on the square, before giving way again to wide-open countryside. By the time we reached the exit for IN-124, the rain had eased into a drizzle, and the tree-lined backroads and small creeks near Bluffton welcomed us as we made the final approach to Ouabache State Park.
Ouabache State Park
Ouabache State Park campground, located near Bluffton, Indiana, offers a campground that includes 124 sites divided into two electric loops, known as Campground A and Campground B. Campsites have access to basic amenities such as water spigots and a dump station.
The park itself features plenty to enjoy during a camping stay. Kunkel Lake provides opportunities for fishing and swimming, though beach access is sometimes subject to closures depending on conditions. A network of trails winds through pine plantations, woodland marshes, and open grassland, offering easy to moderate hikes. A highlight for many visitors is the resident bison exhibit, where a small herd grazes in the prairie. There’s also a paved bike trail (~2.7 mi or more) that connects to Bluffton via the Wabash River Greenway.
Our Site
We had Site #53, which was in Campground A. I thought I would be able to use the spigot near the campsite to fill with water, but it was out of order, so we had to return to the fresh water fill-up point near the beginning of the campground. When we returned to the site, we were able to easily back into our asphalt pad, though we had to use one block to get it completely level.
The trees surrounding the site were in the early stages of autumn change and the squirrels were busy all around the camper getting ready for winter. The trees provided us with partial shade, and the sites were far enough apart to give us some nice privacy. It was a beautiful park
Mad Anthony Brewery
We checked Google and found the local breweries closed, so we pointed the truck toward Fort Wayne and chose Mad Anthony Brewing Company downtown. The drive up two-lane roads cut through countryside where a few fields were already harvested, but most corn still rattled dry on the stalks. We hit the city at rush hour, but most traffic was flowing the opposite direction.
We parked across the street and slipped inside. The big room held a long bar, plenty of tables, and a floor-level stage for live music (quiet tonight). We grabbed a table near the bar and ordered a house flight—Olde Fort Blonde Lager, Auburn Lager, Ruby Raspberry Wheat, Good Karma IPA, Oktoberfest, and the Cream Stout—a range from crisp and malty to bright and hoppy. For dinner, I chose the Smoked Pulled-Pork Mac & Cheese; Lisa went for the Brew Club Grinder (turkey, ham, bacon). The food was good, and I traded my giant beer pretzel for some of Lisa’s fries. The Auburn Lager was chosen as our favorite pour.
Evening
On our way back as we were driving through the countryside, we picked up a young man pushing a mini-bike alongside the road. His chain had broke and he was pushing it back to Bluffton which was still almost 14 miles away. Though the truck was full of our camping equipment, we dropped the tailgate and strapped his bike on it and made room in the back seat.
We dropped him off at the gas station in town and then headed back to the park. We stopped at the CCC monument and the small lake. We have both been in awe of the number of projects the CCC was involved with and how much of their work is still present today. The lake had a small beach, that was closed for the season, and the reflection of the early autumn leaves in the evening light was beautiful.
We then drove over to the 20-acre bison exhibit to watch the bison until it started getting dark. Bison once roamed much of Indiana before being extirpated in the early 1800s; the herd at this park serves as both a conservation and educational feature. We then headed back to the camper and settled in for the eveing.
Tuesday, 23 September
The next morning the skies were cloudy and threatened rain, so we decided to forego any outdoor plans and plan a day visiting different indoor attractions in the area. After breakfast and showers, we took off toward Huntington around around 9 am.
Quayle Vice Presidential Learning Center
We made our way into Huntington’s Old Plat Historic District, only to find the streets torn up by major construction. Google Maps guided us close, but we still had to park a couple of blocks away. Access to the Quayle Vice Presidential Learning Center was nearly impossible, but we made our way through piles of equipment, heavy construction vehicles, and workers to reach the front doors.
The museum is housed in a former Christian Science Reading Room, its worship area once located on the second floor. The old architecture gave the impression of stepping back in time even before we walked through the doors. Inside, the docent seemed genuinely surprised to see us. He explained that the construction had drastically reduced visitors, and since COVID, the school groups that once brought up to a hundred children a day had all but disappeared.
Despite the circumstances, he was welcoming, apologizing for the construction noise that rattled the building as we talked. He directed us upstairs to begin our visit and had to scramble to turn on the lights. The second floor showcased a chronological history of America’s vice presidents, each display featuring photos, descriptions, personal anecdotes, and artifacts that brought their lives into focus. Indiana’s unique legacy stood out—six Hoosiers have served in the role, a fact the museum proudly highlighted. In the center of the floor sat an amphitheater, ready for lectures and special programs.
Downstairs, the exhibits shifted to the modern era and to Dan Quayle himself. Memorabilia, campaign items, and displays of his time in office tied his story into the broader narrative of the vice presidency.
The museum also did an excellent job framing the office itself—not just the individuals within it. It explained how the role evolved from being independently elected to being tied directly to the presidency, how the 25th Amendment finally created a process to replace a vacant vice presidency, and how, for much of history, the position carried little responsibility. It also showed how the vice presidency became a strategic choice to balance a ticket or win over swing states, while reminding visitors that many vice presidents went on to become president themselves.
Before leaving, we lingered in the lobby, swapping stories with the docent, who told us about the museum’s opening in the early 1990s and the challenges of keeping things going through construction and the pandemic. By the time we stepped back outside, we had gained a deeper appreciation for a job often overlooked—one heartbeat away from the presidency.
Diocese Museum and the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception
We then drove into downtown Fort Wayne to visit the Diocese Museum and the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception next door. Since the museum is free to enter but closes early in the afternoon—2 p.m.—we planned our timing carefully to be sure we had enough time to explore.
The museum, located in the old diocesan chancellery, was small. A friendly receptionist greeted us as we entered, giving a quick overview of its history and layout. We learned that the idea for the museum originated with Msgr. Thomas L. Durkin. After his death in 1977, a newly ordained Father Phillip Widmann carried the vision forward, collecting artifacts and preparing exhibits in Durkin’s memory. The Diocesan Museum officially opened its doors in 1981.
Inside, about five small rooms were filled with exhibits reflecting the long history of the Catholic Church in northern Indiana. We admired religious artwork, displays of vestments and liturgical items, devotional objects, and panels with photos of early Catholic leaders in the region. Among the more memorable pieces were a handwritten Bible no larger than a paperback book, a fragment of wood said to be from the True Cross, and a room devoted entirely to a replica of the Shroud of Turin. The shroud exhibit was particularly striking, complete with a legend pointing out significant features—though, since it was a photographic negative, every detail appeared as a mirror image.
When we finished, we walked over to the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception. Noon Mass had just ended, so we sat quietly in the back until parishioners filed out. Afterwards, we wandered through the sanctuary, taking in the soaring vaulted ceilings, carved woodwork, and the kaleidoscope of color cast by the stained-glass windows. Stepping back outside, we strolled around the grounds to admire the cathedral’s architecture as well as the nearby MacDougal Chapel, with its distinctive round form.
We had parked across the street in front of the Foellinger-Freimann Botanical Conservatory, so before heading back to the truck we paused to enjoy a few of the outdoor sculptures that decorate the conservatory’s entrance.
Fort Wayne’s Famous Coney Island
We made our way downtown to grab lunch at Fort Wayne’s Famous Coney Island, a place that’s been serving hot dogs since 1914. The old neon sign out front set the tone right away—this was no modern chain, but a landmark that had become part of the city’s identity.
The grill was right up front, so we could watch the cooks line up buns on the steamer, drop hot dogs onto the flat top, and scoop ladles of their signature coney sauce in a rhythm that looked like second nature. The place smelled like grilled onions and sizzling meat. Since we arrived outside the lunch rush, we were able to find a couple of empty stools at the counter. Lisa ordered a hot dog and some oven-baked beans, and I ordered two coney dogs. In a short time, the coney dogs arrived. They consisted of small hot dogs tucked into pillowy steamed buns, topped with yellow mustard, a mound of finely chopped onions, and that famous house-made meat sauce. The buns were soft and warm, the hot dog had just the right snap, and the sauce was savory with a touch of sweetness that pulled it all together. They came out quick, just the way a coney should. The beans were very sweet but they had a little bite. Lisa found that they tasted great on her hot dog.
Though we were not there long, we felt that we had just experienced a piece of Fort Wayne history. We visited the next-door gift shop briefly before heading back to the truck for our next adventure.
The History Center
We made our way downtown to the History Center, housed in Fort Wayne’s old City Hall building. Built in 1893 in a sturdy Romanesque style, the sandstone arches and tower made it feel more like stepping into a castle than a museum.
The museum flowed through a series of galleries that walked us through the story of the region. We began with displays on the early inhabitants—the Miami and other Native peoples—where artifacts, tools, and maps painted a picture of life at the confluence of the rivers long before the city was built. From there, we moved into the frontier era, with exhibits on General Anthony Wayne and the founding of Fort Wayne.
Other rooms highlighted the city’s growth through industry and transportation. A recreated blacksmith shop and foundry gave us a feel for the clanging rhythm of early manufacturing, while displays on the railroads showed how they connected Fort Wayne to the wider Midwest. We also found a gallery devoted to innovation, filled with inventions and products from local companies that helped put Allen County on the map.
One of the more striking parts of the visit was the chance to walk through the building’s old city jail. They had a few displays of early police guns, handcuffs, and other items. A large Harley Motorcycle. One of the cells had their benches low to the ground with a note that stated that it was the drunk tank, and they did not want inhabitants to fall far when they passed out. The womans cell looked like the others except it had a private wooden area in the back for their bathroom.
The second floor had a nice interactive area that included things like puzzles that would make the radio play,
African-American Historical Museum
We then drove over to the African/African-American Historical Museum, which was located in a historic Victorian duplex once listed in the Green Book as Mrs. B. Talbot’s Tourist Home. The museum preserves and shares the heritage of people of African descent in Allen County. Unfortunately, though Google stated it was open, the doors were closed, and no one answered the doorbell. We left disappointed.
Rink Vintage & Antiques
We then decided to visit The Rink Vintage & Antiques, a sprawling antique mall housed in the former Roller Dome South skating rink. The moment we walked in, the building’s past was still visible—sections of the old rink floor, original benches, and even some lockers preserved in place.
Inside, the vast 22,000-square-foot floor was lined with rows of vendor booths, each one crammed with its own personality. We wandered past mid-century furniture, shelves of glassware and dishes, racks of vintage clothing, and cases filled with collectibles. Some vendors leaned toward farmhouse and rustic décor, while others specialized in retro toys, vinyl records, or carefully curated antiques. The sheer variety made it feel like a treasure hunt—every aisle had something that caught our eye for its uniqueness or brought back a memory.
Johnny Appleseed Grave
After the antique mall, we drove across town to visit John Chapman’s (Johnny Appleseed’s) grave. Johnny is often pictured as a barefoot wanderer with a tin pot hat, but the man behind the myth was a devout Swedenborgian missionary and practical nurseryman. His orchards weren’t just symbolic—they fed frontier families and supplied cider, making him an unconventional yet important figure in America’s westward growth.
He’s buried in Archer Cemetery, a two-acre pioneer graveyard now folded into Johnny Appleseed Park beside the Allen County War Memorial Coliseum. A small sign led us in, and we bumped along a rough lane to a hillside where an informational panel stood by stones laid out like a grave. We were about to move on when we spotted another site higher up—a small wrought-iron–fenced plot on the knoll. Inside, a granite boulder bears his name and a bronze DAR plaque; visitors had left apples at the base, and we added ours. The grave was first formally marked in 1916, when the Indiana Horticultural Society set an iron fence around it for Indiana’s centennial; the fenced granite memorial dates to the 1930s. Around the plot, grafted Rambo apple trees—chosen to honor Chapman—hung heavy with ripening fruit. The dual sites were a little confusing, but we left grateful to have paid homage to a quiet American original.
Minion SIlo
We pointed the truck south toward Ossian, hoping to find the grain silo painted like a giant Minion that was listed in RoadsideAmerica. After a few miles of two-lane and corn, there it was—bright yellow with big goggle eyes—standing beside a farmhouse and barn in the middle of the corn fields. We eased onto the shoulder, grabbed a couple of quick photos from the road (it’s private property), laughed at the absurd sight towering over the crops, and rolled on, still grinning.
Angel of Hope in Bluffton
We then continued on to Bluffton. Our first stop was the concrete sculpture of a tree with a small bear perched on one of its limbs—a quirky landmark created in 1936 that still stands outside a Marathon gas station.
Next, we visited Angel of Hope Memorial Park, where a brick path led us past lampposts and benches to a 5-foot-tall bronze angel with outstretched arms, softly catching the late afternoon light. Built entirely through local donations and inspired by The Christmas Box, the park features engraved bricks honoring loved ones, making it a peaceful place for reflection. Nearby, the 2.5-mile Greenway River Trail followed the Wabash River, connecting downtown Bluffton to Ouabache State Park.
As we continued into town, we passed several colorful murals and a painted bison—one of Indiana’s 2016 “Bison-tennial” sculptures celebrating the state’s bicentennial.
Bummies Drive-In
We opted for dinner at Bummies Drive-In in Bluffton—the classic root-beer stand that’s been humming since 1962, with covered carports, tray hooks on the posts, and frosty glass mugs. We eased into a stall, studied the hand-lettered menu board, and flashed the headlights for service. A smiling carhop appeared with a notepad; we both ordered the Bummie Deluxe and added a large root-beer float and a butterscotch milkshake.
A few minutes later, the tray clicked onto our window. Thoughtfully, it came with squeeze bottles of ketchup and mustard plus a salt shaker. It’s cash-only, and the whole spread was just $18. The burgers—essentially double cheeseburgers with lettuce, tomato, and mayonnaise—were excellent, the fries hot, and the drinks the stars of the show. They brew their house root beer, and the float arrived in a big, frosted mug that stayed cold to the last sip. For an hour, Bummies felt like stepping straight into a time capsule.
Ouabache State Park
Twilight settled over the park as we pulled in, still full from dinner, but the lure of the restored 100-foot CCC-era fire tower (built 1939) was too strong to ignore. The tower stands across from the bison enclosure, and all seven were gathered near the front fence when we arrived. Lisa wandered over to watch them while I started up the 106 steps, with a couple of quick breathers on the landings. At the top, the view opened wide: the bison paddock below, Kunkel Lake catching the last light, and the flat Wabash River valley just beginning to show its early fall colors.
Back on the ground, I rejoined Lisa at the fence line, where the bison had come so close to the fence that we could hear their heavy breathing and the sounds of them ripping mouthfuls of grass. We both resisted the urge to pet them.
Evening
When we got back to the camper, the last of the light was beginning to fade. We checked the weather forecast, which forecasted rain, and decided to bring in our camper’s slide and prepare as much as possible for our departure the next day. Afterwards, we settled in for the evening, feeling fortunate for the wonderful day.
Wednesday, 24 September
It had rained through the night, but by morning it had stopped, though the sky was still overcast. Since our next park didn’t allow check-in until 3 p.m. and it was less than a three-hour drive away, we weren’t in any rush to pack up. After a leisurely morning of hot showers and breakfast, we decided to catch up on laundry. None of the nearby laundromats had good reviews, so we headed over to Decatur instead. Though it took us in a direction we hadn’t traveled before, the scenery was much the same—mile after mile of cornfields stretching to the horizon.
We had decided on Kingdom Laundromat, which turned out to be a good choice: clean, bright, with plenty of open machines and even free Wi-Fi. While the laundry machines hummed, I caught up on my travel log.
Back at the campground, we quickly reconnected the trailer, made a stop at the dump station, and then pointed the truck north toward Michigan.