Biggest Night Of The Year For Metamora, IN

When we finished our tour at Notre Dame, we went on a drive south on Highway 31. It was a nice road. Little bits of country here and there, but mostly towns like Kokomo. A trucker's paradise of White Castles, Waffle Houses and gas stations. We stopped at a Sears there to pick up a bath towel (Peter left his at the Virginia Inn in Lawrence). Along the ride, we listened to an album by ELO called "Face the Music," and a great compilation of blues songs that Eric Clapton covered. We also spotted a back highway on our atlas that led out of Indianapolis in the direction of Cincinnati. Eventually, we made it to the outskirts of Indianapolis set out on our road.

Highway 52

We rolled through one ancient "ville" after another on 52 and finally stopped in Rushville. Peter spotted "$1 games on Fridays and Saturdays" at Rushville Bowl, so we made a quick U-turn and headed in. After a few games of mediocre bowling (one incredible 210 from Wolf) and watching a Reds shellacking of the Mariners, we got back on the road with our sights set on a town called Brooksville.

Highway 52 was a two-way winding stretch of corn fields and old homes with acres and acres of lawn. The kind of road you expect to see in the middle of nowhere in Indiana. Ten miles outside of Brooksville, we spotted a campsite; but it was the town a block away from it that made us stop.

Before going into town, we went to the campsite to see how much we would be paying. $10. We took it. The kind woman who owned the campsite informed us the town was called Metamora and the campsite was a great place to see the fireworks. It seemed like everywhere we went in the previous days, there was a fireworks show. And yet, we were still thirsty for more.

It turned out to be a great site with an open field the size of six football fields for us to play catch and hit fly balls to each other. We played in the setting sun until it was too dark.

It was time for us to check out Metamora. Here's what we found:

Welcome to Metamora. A to-scale photo of the size of the town.

We arrived a few minutes late to the show. Peter snapped a quick photo of the fireworks over the top of the Canal Shop.

This was our third and final fireworks show on our trip, but the feeling never changes. As you can see in the background, hundreds of people crammed into this town to see this show. 

Nice one Metamora.

All proceeds from the concessions were donated to the Metamora fire house. Decided to get a couple of dogs and corn on the cob. The corn was freshly picked that day and served the way it should be. And a High Life.

A neighboring town's fire department posed with us for a photo. This fireworks show attracted several bordering counties.

With the pyrotechnics done, the fireman filed in to the makeshift beer garden. Here's a police officer helping out a fireman with a keg stand. Protecting and serving.

We requested two songs at the dance floor/ beer garden. The first was, of course, John Cougar Mellencamp's "Hurts So Good," and the next was "Carry On," by Crosby, Stills, and Nash. As was a college tradition, we got on one knee and elevated our Miller High Life's vertically in the center of the dance floor for "Hurts So Good." Here's Peter dancing with some of the locals during "Carry On."

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We woke up the next morning in a bit of a haze, but a good haze. We were still a little giggly from the night before and were excited to see what the Metamora looked like in the daytime. Finding a place for breakfast in town was the goal. In turn, we discovered a whole new world.

Metamora in the daytime. Colorful town with a train rolling through.

Metamora's Whitewater Canal is a "State Historical Site."

Wolf hoofin' it from Black Sal.

We asked a local from town where we could get a good breakfast. She said Smelly's place has biscuits and gravy. We asked if Smelly's had coffee. She laughed. 

She didn't let us down. The Smelly Gourmet had some good biscuits and gravy and Smelly himself told us, "I make the best cappuccino on this side of the Atlantic."

The Smelly Gourmet on the inside. A gift shop assorted with various jelly perfumes, popcorn kernels and homemade computer clocks.

Peter the popcorn popper.

The "smelly" trio. Smelly himself has owned this store for the last ten years and spent seven years serving in Italy. This is where he learned how to make his cappuccinos. He was also one of the volunteer firefighters setting off fireworks in the show the night before. Great guy and great salesman. Hope he considers this blog for some advertising.

*Check out all things Smelly at: http://www.smellygourmet.com/

John Cougar Mellencamp - "Small Town"