Discovering Indiana: A Local’s Journey Through Amish Country and More

Heading east along US 20 into Shipshewana, Indiana, a pastoral postcard unfolds. Perfectly presented blinding-red barns scatter across unspoiled countryside strewn with white picket fences, shimmering silos, and gaggles of horses.

This is Indiana’s Amish Country. My life as a travel writer has always navigated between places I know well, like Atlanta, where I spent most of my young adulthood, and those that are total discoveries. As the traffic slows at a red light, an Amish horse-drawn buggy zooms past, leaving the four-wheeled vehicles behind in its bucolic wake. I find myself firmly in the latter of those two categories.

But perhaps it shouldn’t be all that unfamiliar. I’m a born and bred Indiana Hoosier, the unusual term applied to natives of the state. Although I now consider my adopted city of Atlanta “home,” I spent my formative years in a small Indiana town called Marion with just 28,000 residents.

Naturally, I never thought being from Marion would offer advantages in my career as a travel journalist, but I felt pretty confident when I researched the Indiana and Illinois chapters for the newest travel guide. I quickly realized that, except for Indianapolis (the capital), Bloomington (where I briefly attended university), and Brown County (a lovely early twentieth-century artist commune in Southern Indiana), I had never visited any of the destinations we covered in the guide. Truth be told, I hadn’t seen much of anything in Indiana during the 11 years I lived there. Shame on me.

Suddenly, I was blindsided by an astute observation: it took becoming a travel journalist as an adult to discover my home state’s most iconic offerings for the first time.

The Hometown of James Dean

First on my list was exploring the early stomping grounds of the region’s native son: James Dean. I rolled into Fairmount to visit his gravesite, the James Dean Gallery, and the Fairmount Historical Museum (Dean was born in Marion but grew up 10 miles south in Fairmount; the family still lives on the farm). Fairmount is the epitome of small-town Indiana: a couple of silos, a stoplight or two, and a whole lot of barnyard basketball hoops. It’s a Corn Belt living fairytale in America’s heartland.

The area is a pilgrimage for fans of the gone-too-soon Hollywood heartthrob. I was fascinated, but not solely because of Rebel Without a Cause. I couldn’t believe that after visiting 106 countries, I had never seen the museum of one of Hollywood’s most storied legends — just 13 miles from my middle school address.

Soon after, I made my way to Marion and swung by my father’s grave site, which I do whenever I’m in town. It prompted memories of my childhood and how my family’s idea of a fancy night out was dinner at an Americanized Italian restaurant called Rosie’s Little Italy (still there!). Nowadays, I live in Italy and have dined at Michelin-starred restaurants worldwide, but you could never have convinced 10-year-old me that Rosie’s spaghetti and meatballs wasn’t the real deal.

Discovering Indiana’s Hidden Highlights

From there, the Hoosier highlights kept coming: I could hardly contain myself from photographing every single horse and buggy I saw in Amish Country, which felt like an alternate universe (founded in 1841, the Elkhart-LaGrange Amish community here is the world’s third largest, comprising around 20,000 individuals). I discovered “Amish crack” – the sensational cinnamon-caramel donuts at Rise ‘n Roll bakery. Additionally, the classic American roadsters on display at the Auburn Cord Duesenberg Museum in nearby Auburn or the Studebaker National Museum in South Bend will ignite the interests of even the most casual gearheads, myself included.

Not far from Chicago, America’s newest national park beckoned, having transitioned from state park status just days before my research trip. Indiana Dunes National Park hugs the Lake Michigan coastline. At West Beach, I was astonished to find the entire expanse of Lake Michigan frozen solid as far as the eye could see (researching in March, I simply hadn’t anticipated arriving at a beach buried in ice!). Nearby, in charming Chesterton, Riley’s Railhouse, a converted 106-year-old decommissioned freight station, serves as Indiana’s most intriguing boutique hotel.

What was going on in Columbus? This small Indiana town, just an hour south of Indianapolis, is rich with modernist architectural wonders commissioned in the 1940s by Fortune 500 engineering company Cummins and its visionary former President/Chairman J Irwin Miller. Mid-20th-century masters, including Eero Saarinen, Richard Meier, and IM Pei, designed the library, schools, fire stations, and churches. After co-authoring over 100 travel guides on four continents, it’s one of the most fascinating places I have ever been. The Victorian Inn at Irwin Gardens is also one of the most beautiful hotels I have ever seen. Who knew?!

Further south, on the Kentucky border, two more gems awaited. New Harmony felt like a real-world Leftovers episode. It was here that an early 19th-century German Christian sect, the Harmonists, developed an intricate town while awaiting the Second Coming. In the interim, they constructed a captivating roofless church. Later, I was enchanted by the stunning town of Madison, which flanks the Ohio River along the Kentucky border, home to an idyllic downtown that is the largest contiguous National Historic Landmark District in the US.

Madison is a beautifully preserved river settlement that transforms even the most hardened urbanites into sentimental small-town dreamers. “I could live here,” you find yourself thinking. My dad was likely onto something when he accepted the position of manager for Madison’s Singer Corporation retail store in 1962. I took the opportunity to drive by my parents’ old home — of course, I had never seen it before.

Lastly, let’s discuss the craft breweries scattered throughout the state. From 3 Floyds Brewing Co and Iechyd Da in the north to Wood Shop and 450 North Brewing Co in the south, Indiana offers a compelling craft beer scene. Of course, craft beer wasn’t a trend during my childhood; Dad was content with Schlitz and Coors.

I may not have begun to develop my palate for craft beers until I moved to Atlanta, as many tastes we acquire mature in adulthood. However, I’m glad I returned to Indiana with a newfound appreciation for the place you develop after time away. Now I recognize clearly what my father saw, and that’s how wonderful Indiana has always been.