Saturday I Stopped At Eden But Blew Through Hope

I decided to go to the Columbus, Indiana Scottish Festival. CC and my niece had been invited to go along. CC was otherwise busy. I never heard from the niece confirming she would come up from Tennessee. DM had problems to deal with. But I wanted to get out of Muncie, so I rented a car.

 

Of course, I got a late start. It had been raining, and I do not think I ran out of rain until south of Greenfield. 

 

Pendleton had some sort of festival going on in the park and I byapssed that. My curiosity about the effects of the big flood was nothing compared to my reluctance to get caught in a mob before Columbus.

 

Eden from what used to be the Irving Materials office. There used to be trophies in this building, I saw them first more than 50 years ago. I was much older when I learned this was the headquarters for Irving Materials, a large provider of gravel and road building supplies. IMI is still around, but long gone are the trophies and this spot as its headquarters. 

 

Anyway, that is the center of Eden. This is me heading towards Greenfield. This would have been before 1 PM. A gray, lowering sky had me wondering if I had made the right choice, but my other choice being the Penrod Festival in Indianapolis would not have been any better.

Then I came into Greenfield:

 Where US 40 (The National Road) and State Road 9 meet, the government centers of Hancock County and Greenfield:

 The south side of Greenfield, away from the interstate and the north side's gauntlet of franchise restaurants and strip malls.

 Passing out of Greenfield, now in the land south of 40.

 Coming into Shelbyville:

 

I did not manage any photos here. I did not stop or get stopped by a red light. There are points here I would like to come back to check out. Not least what looks like some good fishing spots on Blue River here, 

Moving south, what is the chief feature of the Indiana landscape in Summer. 

After this, I passed through Hope, Indiana. Not a bad-looking little town, albeit not interesting enough for me to stop. I did call CC. She now wished she had come along. We made plans to go on another road trip together the following day.

I came to the end of State Road 9 and probably took a wrong turn here. On the other hand, is it a wrong turn if one doesn't turn? I wound up going out of my way to the south end of Columbus. Now, I had not been here in 25 years, and then not in this area. Quite commerical with all the usual suspects: Lowe's, Walmart, and franchise restaurants. All in all, I have to say Columbus looked better than I remembered. I had not seen its best when I was younger.

 I finally found myself downtown. This area I knew. The park at the headwaters of the East Fork of the White River was here; this was where the Festival had been held before the turn of the century, Here was the courthouse. For those who do not know of Columbus, it is known for its modern architecture. I managed a few shots to give you the flavor.

 I should admit here that I left without the address for the Scottish Festival. I drove through the park where there was something going on that looked far larger than the Scottish Festival had and without any Hibernian vibes. However, I got some views of the river and good access spots for fishing.

I left the park thinking I would go to Indianapolis. Then I saw a sign for the Scottish Festival and I finally reached the Bartholomew County Fairgrounds. For about fifteen minutes I was out of the car. I was very late and I missed the dog trials and who knows what else. What follows looks a little disappointing, so take that into account. The photos loaded here in reverse order of being taken.

I have no idea what this fellow was doing. I saw nothing about a reenactment of Bannoackburn. 

A Morgan, a car I had never seen before. When I approached it, I thought it was an MG.

No dog trials but someone brought a Clydesdale.

I had been on the road for about 3 hours by now, There was a whisky tasting at 5 pm, but between me driving and not having any idea what to do for another 90 minutes, I saw no reason for staying. I could still make The Penrod Festival.

When passing through Garden City, Indiana, I was struck by how Hoosiers affix city to places that are little more than wide spots on the road and could disappear if there was a strong enough wind. 

My next stop was Edinburgh, Indiana. There were a few more wrong turns there, too.

The discount mall at I-65 and US 31 has grown up. It seems I was last there with T2, and that would be close to 30 years ago.

Edinburgh, Indiana, was the birthplace of my mother's father. I had never been there, pretty sure neither my mother or her sister had been either. As far as I know, no one has been here since my grandfather left home years before World War One.

It was a good-looking town; its principal industry used to be oak veneer. I have no real idea what that is  apart from having to do with wood and furniture. I wonder if it was this prosperous when my grandfather and his brothers left for the wider world. I think that was the end of the Downes family in the town.

An interesting house:

 

For some reason this historical marker differs from the official name.

The historical downtown, maybe it was known to my grandfather.

Evidence you never know what you might find in a small Indiana town; a Jaguar parked on the street.

For me, a marker that you know you are in southern Indiana, the JayC grocery store:

 

 And that was enough for me. I was getting tired and decided to go home. By the time I hit I-465 in Indianapolis all I wanted to do was get back home. I got back a little after 6 PM and was exhausted. I piddled with my obsession. Watched His and Hers on Netflix. Went to sleep. 

Church on Sunday, no word from CC, and I went home. I have to admit I could have gone nowhere else. I don't remember Kerouac getting so wiped out from his road trips, but then I am about 40 years older than he was. I slept for about 4 hours after church and still felt wiped out. I got enough energy up for a trip to Payless for dinner supplies. I spent the rest of the evening being a zombie in front of the computer.

I made it through one book review from The Guardian only because it was about Dianna Rigg: All About My Mother by Rachael Stirling review – a joyous love letter to Diana Rigg.

The car needs to go back, I have been at this post for about two hours. If only I could have gotten myself out of bed at six! Laundry needs done. I need to leave you with what is here.

sch