Hidden Gems of Southern Indiana

Hidden Gems of Southern Indiana – The Unabridged Version

I finally got it together – the unabridged version of my three-day ride through southern Indiana last weekend. Some of the pictures are repetitions from my previous posts about the same trip, but I thought it would be interesting to see how the pictures of the road, the barns, and the cars all fell in together. With only one or two exceptions, all the pictures here are posted in the same sequence they were taken.

I’d been in Chattanooga, Tennessee since April 24th. Long enough to watch the chilly, rainy days of early spring give way to more summer-like days in the mid-eighties. Motorcycles began swarming the mountains of the Appalachian Plateau like flies on honey. Twenty-six days away from home, friends, and motorcycles for the sole purpose of work was testing my psychological foundations. With each new motorcycle sighting, my yearning for the open road grew ever stronger. Sadly, I could only settle for commiserating with coworkers, sharing stories with fellow riders while waiting for freedom to arrive. Oh, to ride once more!

At long last, it’s May 20th. I awake to my 26th and final consecutive 12-hour workday. Only eight hours later, my work duties draw to a close. I fire up the rented ‘05 Mustang and drive it back to Mr. Avis. Arriving in Nashville, Tennessee, I pick up a romance novel to read while waiting for my flight to Chicago Midway – a 2005 Rand McNally Road Atlas. Eagerly plotting out my long awaited trip while trying not to drool over the pages, my fellow passengers surely wondered about the man with the Atlas wrapped around his head. Despite such aberrant behavior, airport security still let me on the plane!

Finally arriving home around 10pm, I pull into my driveway and open the garage door. There’s the Goldwing, in the same spot I left it almost 4 weeks ago. Extremely miffed at my neglect, the oil ran cold in her crankcase as she looked at me with those big sad headlights. Begging forgiveness, I promised to make it all up to her first thing in the morning.

Saturday Morning

My chains of bondage now loosed, aptly awakened by the dawn’s early light, I prepare eagerly for a ride in the land of the free and the home of the brave. A calm sunny morning, great riding weather!! Leaving Munster on I-80/94 East and picking up I-65 South for the 2 ½ hour ride to Indianapolis. It dawns on me that in my haste I forgot to pack the rain gear. Luckily, the weather would be on my side for the next three days. The map below depicts my route from Munster to my brother’s house in Noblesville, and then on to Franklin, where I finally left the interstate and began the real ride:



Exiting I-65, I head east on Hwy 47 towards the little town of Sheridan, Indiana. Although still surrounded by flat farmland, the traffic is light and the roadside is dotted with rustic old barns:





The day is off to a beautiful start and there are many bikes on the road already. This shot gives a feel for the character of Indiana farmland, or flatlands as we sometimes say:



My brother has granted me the use of his cabin in the woods near Brown County State Park for the weekend. My first stop this morning is in Noblesville to pick up the keys to my weekend get-away. A cup of coffee and hugs from my nieces, and I’m off again. Heading around the east side of Indianapolis on I-465, finally picking up I-65 south, I leave the interstate at Franklin to begin the first leg of my journey, Indiana Highway 44.



Franklin, Indiana is the county seat of Johnson County. The center of town is the old courthouse, surrounded on four streets by historic storefronts. Franklin is typical of hundreds of county seats in the Midwest. Great pride is taken in keeping these old architectural landmarks in good shape:







This is a view of the main street from the front lawn of the courthouse:



I stopped for a burger at this place, stumbling onto some great food in one of many local historical storefronts in town:




Heading out of Franklin, I start making way west towards Martinsville on Hwy 44. Just out of Franklin, the terrain takes on a gentle roll.




There were many bikes on the road this morning. It seemed that every time I got off the bike, at least one group of riders would pass by:




Highway 44 is full of wide sweeping turns, passing through forests, past farms, pastures, and scenic postcard fences:










At Martinsville, I make my way onto Old Hwy 37, which winds its way through Morgan Monroe State Forest. Just north of Bloomington, these roads hold many memories from my student days at Indiana University. I had enjoyed these roads years earlier as a student by bicycle and even in a convertible MG Midget, but never on a motorcycle. To ride these roads on a motorcycle is to rediscover them anew:
























The winding roads of Morgan Monroe State Forest are quiet and scenic. Passing through such rural towns as Dolan, Fleener, Point Idalawn, Trevlac, Helmsburg, and Bean Blossom, the ride is about to take on another dimension:



Highway 135 is a favorite in these parts for motorcycles. The ride south from Bean Blossom to Nashville (Indiana) is a twisty treat:



The trip to Nashville is well worth the time it takes to get there. Nashville is a haven for artists and street musicians, a fun place to go to experience a wide variety of restaurants from ice cream to elephant ears to pizza to seafood. There’s all sorts of arts and crafts to see or buy, antique stores, souvenir shops, and you guessed it, tons of motorcycles:














This part of Indiana certainly has its share of interesting names:







It’s late in the afternoon but there are still a couple hours of riding time left, so I make my way south out of Nashville through the towns of Stone Head and Story. Highway 135 is truly an awesome motorcycle road. If you’re ever here, don’t miss this one:





People would often stop to ask if I was broke down while I was taking pictures. As I stopped to photograph this turn on Hwy 135, a group of Goldwings came around the turn. The gentleman on the lead bike is braking because he thinks I'm broken down despite the camera, I had to wave at him to signal all was well:















Highway 135 passes the south entrance to beautiful Brown County State Park, but that will be the subject of another article:










The Story Inn is a rustic looking place where, at first glance, you would not expect to find a gourmet restaurant. People come from a long ways off just to eat here, the food is incredible. There isn’t much else in Story besides the Story Inn.



Since it was getting late in the day, I decided to save the rest of the run south on Hwy 135 for tomorrow morning. So I turned around at Story and headed back north on 135, and stopped for this shot of the late afternoon sun lighting up a huge field of canola:






Once back in Nashville, I stopped for fuel. The Annual Mustang & Shelby Car Show was going on in Brown County State Park. Several of the vintage Mustangs pulled in for gas while I was there, enough to get even the heart of a motorcyclist beating hard with excitement:

























:
Sunday:

I awake to another gorgeous day and decide to venture further south on Hwy 135 to Hwy 58. Eventually heading back north through Hoosier National Forest on Hwy 446, across Lake Monroe and into my college stomping grounds of Bloomington:







Some of these towns are so small they don’t even have a sign to mark them. All I could find in the town of Stone Head was this street sign:
















It took a lot of coaxing to get these horses to trust me. What’s the matter fella? Haven’t you ever seen a helmet before?







As I made my many photo stops, I tried to remember some of the great tips I’ve learned from Pashnit. One of Pashnit rules that stuck with me was to shoot from areas of dark to light. It worked! Thanks Tim!









The countryside along Highway 135 is beautiful. I’ve always had a certain fascination with old barns:





At Hwy 58 I head west into the town of Norman, where I found this curious abandoned store. One of the locals told me it had been closed since the mid-seventies, and she was saddened to learn of its slated demolition:










Heading north on Hwy 446 and into the area around Bloomington, some evidence of one of the area’s products start to appear on the landscape – limestone:






Hoosier National Forest is home to Lake Monroe, Indiana’s largest lake:



Lake Monroe:






In Bloomington I asked two passers-by to take my picture at Indiana University's landmark Showalter Fountain, the centerpiece of the Fine Arts Plaza and adornment to the entrance of the IU Auditorium. The fountain features a large sculpture illustrating "The Birth of Venus."



Here are my picture takers, two of the rare students who stayed in town for summer classes:





Won’t say too much about Griffey Reservoir, except that my friends and I once knew it as our swimming hole:



Hinkle Road, north of Bloomington:







Luckily for me, my motivation for coming here was not to enjoy the peace and quiet of the countryside!








Lunchtime in Bloomington:




Columbus Indiana is known for some unique architecture and engineering landmarks. Here is the I-65 bridge over Hwy 46:



Another aesthetically striking bridge in Columbus:








Monday:

Since Sunday morning’s ride was overcast, I decide to ride Hwy 135 again this morning to see how different it would look in the morning sunlight:









Look real close at the center of the foreground in this shot:



Let’s zoom in a little:











Old shed? Talk about camo!!












Morning shots of the Story Inn:






Continuing down Hwy 135:


























Kurtz, Indiana on Hwy 58












Finally, its time to head for home. A few last shots of some old barns on Hwy 47 before getting back on the interstate:






As I absorbed the beauty of these Indiana byways, I began to regret having made so many jokes about Indiana flatlands, while not having done a better job of representing my native state to those less familiar with Indiana. As I vow to make amends for my errant ways, I hope this was a ride that even a Californian could delight in.

Last but not least, some flowers for Tim!!