They don headlights and spelunk in caves, read about In’jun Joe and take tours of caves, even forgo decent wedding photos and get married in caves. But it wasn’t until David and Connie Hughes set to work that Missourians could enjoy barbecue in a cave.

The Hughes’ restaurant, called Caveman Bar-BQ and Steak House, prides itself on its primitive location. Guests arrive by gravel road and then park in a street-level lot to take the shuttle up the path to the entrance. They are greeted by an elevator operator who ushers them into the gaping hole, now civilized by a set of wooden doors. The deck, set into a bluff about 100 feet high, overlooks the Gasconade River and is framed by trees that flame orange and red in the fall. The restaurant itself is split-level, with a gurgling fountain, a few stuffed bobcats and forest birds, and casual place settings. The ceiling, walls and floor are, of course, rock. Caveman Bar-BQ was always a cave, but it wasn’t always quite so big.

The Hugheses, cattle farmers from central Missouri, said they got tired of chasing cows and bought an old resort in Richland, Mo., about 22 years ago. David restored almost a dozen cabins and founded a successful float trip operation.

Indianapolis Motor Speedway, Indianapolis, Indiana

A high whine begins in the distance, reverberating in that place between the chest and the pit of the stomach. 

The smell of burning alcohol (used for fuel) hangs heavy in the air, alongside waves of heat. 

The speedway stands are silent.

The whine deepens a little, grows louder, and then those listening hear another chasing the first … then two … then 10.
Suddenly, an Indy car bursts into view of the Turn 1 bleachers and thousands of people surge to their feet with a roar.

Kansas City, Missouri 

Call it what you will.

Cowtown. BBQ Capital of the World. Paris of the Plains.

Amanda Manion, a Kansas City, Mo., resident, knows it as the City of Fountains.

“This area here by the fountains, by the [Country Club] Plaza, is very attractive,” said Manion, who has lived in Kansas City since 1970.

Manion works at the Gap store in the middle of the Plaza – downtown Kansas City’s upscale shopping district in which more than 20 fountains provide eye-catching oases.

Iowa State Fair, Des Moines, Iowa 

The Iowa State Fair is one of the biggest parties in the Midwest, belying Iowa’s traditional image of tranquil cornfields and laid-back citizenry.

“Describing it just doesn’t do it justice,” said Iowan Wendell Hall, 72. “I’ve been to the Illinois State Fair and the Florida State Fair, and they’re comparable to our county fairs. Ours is just a whale of a good time.”

Approaching the fairground can be overwhelming. From miles away, cars are parked in any spot available. Homeowners close to the fairground often sit outside their houses and offer their driveways to fairgoers for a price.

Other than a clever pun, it’s hard to decide what to call All Fired Up. To potential patrons, it seems to be a store, art studio and alternative Friday night destination rolled into one. Teddy Wright, All Fired Up’s creator and owner, has a quick solution.
“I would call it a paint-your-own-pottery studio,” she says.

All Fired Up’s environment is hard not to love. Vividly colored handprints cover the right-hand wall, evidence of the children who have enjoyed a birthday party here. Shelves upon shelves line other walls, stacked from floor to ceiling with both finished and unfinished pottery. Every imaginable creation is on display, from a mug bigger than a person’s head to a clever plate with ridges designed to keep tacos upright.

Set up like an old railroad station, the Depot Inn and Suites signals its customers with its friendly atmosphere just as the trains that pass through signal their presence with a blow of a whistle.

The Depot Inn and Suites, located off Highway 63 in La Plata, Mo., first opened its doors in May 2006. Kelly and Thomas O. Marshall, owners of the Depot Inn and Suites, said they discussed the possibility of starting their own hotel for quite some time before actually acting on it.

“Kelly and I, for a number of years, have always talked about how owning a hotel would be kind of fun,” Tom said. “Then when the new highway development started and we knew there was a new restaurant going in and all this new development, we decided that this spot was really good. We’re just a nine-minute drive from Kirksville.”

Starved Rock State Park, Illinois 

Visitors to Starved Rock sometimes miss the grisly undertones behind the beautiful park’s name. 

At the top of the bluff, a breathtaking view of the Illinois River and Lover’s Leap – an adjacent bluff – welcome all who make the trek.

But the stunning location would prove all too deadly for the Illiniwek tribe.

According to legend, an Illiniwek warrior slew the chief of the Ottawa tribe. In revenge, the Ottawa tribe, along with their allies, the Potawatomi, attacked the Illiniwek. The Illiniwek sought protection atop the 125-foot bluff, and the Ottawa and Potawatomi surrounded it until their helpless enemies died of starvation – hence the park’s name, Starved Rock.

Although I live in a large city, the phrase that comes out of my mouth most is, “There is nothing to do.” I, like most people, seem to think I have to travel to Chicago, St. Louis or Bora Bora to find something to do. I thought a detour had to be something everyone would find interesting, when actually, it just has to mean something to the explorer.

I got in my little blue Pontiac Sunfire to run errands, but when I finished I decided I wasn’t ready to go home. I wasn’t sure where I was going, and I didn’t care. I got on the highway and started toward my grandparents’ house. I turned onto the bridge leading into their little tic-tac-toe board of a town – but instead of going right like usual, I turned left.

The road had only a few scattered houses on it, and I began to hear the crunching of gravel under the tires. I played kickball back here as a child but never took the time to care about where I was. I pulled off to the side of the road and started walking. It had been raining, so the earth was soft under the few pieces of gravel left on the road.