The Grotto of Redemption, West Bend, Iowa 

From a block away, the Grotto of the Redemption looks like a miniature fortress of gray stone. Up close, the fortress becomes a formation of small caverns, and it is easy to see the stones aren’t gray at all but are a mosaic of bright colors and patterns. The hodgepodge of materials that make up the Grotto of the Redemption have been collected from all over the United States and brought to the small town of West Bend, Iowa.

A grotto is a small, picturesque cave, usually man-made, and in West Bend sits the largest grotto in the world. Covering one city block and reaching 40 feet at its highest point, the Grotto of the Redemption is also the largest assortment of minerals and petrified wood in one place.

 The Shakespeare Festival, St. Louis, Missouri

For one month each spring, right around sunset, a stage formed at the bottom of Forest Park’s temporary, bowl-shaped theater fills with elaborately dressed characters, and the noise of the feature production of the Shakespeare Festival of St. Louis washes over the crowd. 

St. Louis resident Brett Wilhelm said he saw the majestic trees of Forest Park blend into “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” six years ago and hasn’t missed a production since.

“I used to go see Shakespeare a lot back when I was in high school and college, so I’ve been to a lot of different productions,” Wilhelm said. “What they do here is on par with what I’ve seen elsewhere, if not better.”

Macomb Balloon Rally, Macomb, Illinois

Every year in early September, the peaceful expanse of the Vince Grady Soccer Field in Macomb, Illinois, is suddenly clustered with crowds of spectators and the huge looming shadows of multiple giants. The multicolored balloons arise from their beginnings as limp sheets of fabric to become fire-breathing titans of the skies.

The crowd at the 21st annual Macomb Balloon Rally eagerly awaited the ascension of all 29 balloons from Western Illinois University in Macomb. Along with the balloons’ takeoff, many other events were planned in conjunction with the Balloon Rally to appeal to tourists and Macomb natives alike, making the weekend an ideal autumn excursion.

Grand Gulf State Park, Thayer, Missouri

Straddling the Missouri and Arkansas border, Grand Gulf State Park, located in Thayer, Missouri, offers natural beauty and aesthetic wonder distinct from the state’s 82 other state parks.

“You could see a lot of things all in this one park,” park maintenance worker Ann Price said. “We have a pirating stream, we have a sink hole, a major collapsed cave system and a natural bridge that spans 200 feet with a 75-foot opening that you can all view in one place.”
The park’s 322 acres of spectacular sites formed as the result of years of geological turbulence. An estimated 10,000 years of erosion resulted in the three-quarter-mile-long canyon visible from bluffs that are 130 feet high. Water continually cracks the rock at pressure points in the surrounding limestone and dolomite bedrock, creating multiple cave formations.

In the summer months, the dried-out hollow of the Grand Gulf contains large remnants of collapsed boulders, which occupy the canyon floor, masked by climbing foliage.

Having lived in West Plains since childhood, outdoor enthusiast Bryan S. Ledford said he knows the surrounding area well and has researched its history extensively.
“Grand Gulf was originally a cave system where a couple of caves came together and met,” Ledford said. “The roof was weakened over time because of the underground streams, and eventually the caves collapsed to give us the crevices that we now see.”

Dickson Mounds Museum, Lewistown, Illinois 

Eager-eyed schoolchildren tug at their parents’ wrists, pulling them toward the large, cavernous doors of the building waiting ahead. Youngsters and adults alike enter the quiet Illinois museum overlooking the Illinois River valley, about to explore a civilization more than 1,000 years old. 

Michael Wiant, Dickson Mounds Museum Director, said about 33,000 people visited last year, nearly 6,000 of whom were schoolchildren from the region surrounding Lewistown, Illinois, located 60 miles northwest of Springfield, Illinois. 

“People come from all over the country,” he said. “The majority of visitors are from Illinois. Europeans in particular seem to have a long fondness for the study of Native Americans, and we’ve seen visitors from Germany, Scandinavia, Norway and many other foreign nations.”

Dancing Rabbit Ecovillage is home to 30 adults and nine children. The town square is alive with vibrant murals and brightly painted homes with names such as Thistledown, Skyhouse and Ironweed.

Dancing Rabbit only owns two cars and a truck, which are used in cooperation with all members of the ecovillage. The community has developed strong relationships with local organic farmers and neighbors, such as Sandhill Farm, that provide the residents with food. In exchange, they often help during harvest seasons or in other capacities.

It is difficult to say who the official founders of the community are because so many individuals contributed to the ideas, bylaws and concept development for the ecovillage. Starting as the dream of a group of people at Berkeley living in a home called Skyhouse, Dancing Rabbit was established in 1997 when six people moved onto the 280 acres in Rutledge. Two of the original inhabitants still live there.

Curious relatives and friends often ask me, “Well, what can you do there?”

I usually smile and say something about on-campus activities or the farmers’ market, to quaint laughter from my city-slicker, big-college acquaintances and family members.

They forget one thing: What students in small, ordinary-looking towns seem to lack in variety, they make up for in sheer creativity. The next time I was home, I had a better answer to the rehearsed question.

Traincatching.

“Train-what?” My father’s eyebrows lift slightly in amusement. “You stand on a bridge and wait for a train?”

Cups and saucers rattle as the employee of the coffee shop shoves steaming mugs of freshly brewed espresso on the counter. Flaky croissants filled with custard and topped with chocolate line the bakery display window, tempting the passers-by with their sinful perfection.
Things are different in Rome, Italy, in ways that a Midwesterner would never think of, swapping fries for farfalle and Coke for a glass of bold, rich Chianti.

First, breakfast. A croissant and cup of cappuccino are the norm, a far cry from my usual bowl of Corn Flakes or scrambled eggs. Pastries and coffee go hand-in-hand in Italy even though such a sugary breakfast goes against my healthy-start ideal. In Italy, breakfast is not the most important meal of the day.

Luckily, Italians believe in good food and eat it often. This is where the famed Italian fare that Americans know and love comes into play, although it’s nothing like the spaghetti and meatballs I’ve gotten from home. If you really want to go there, spaghetti and meatballs isn’t even authentic Italian — meat and pasta are rarely served together in the same dish.

The key to Italian cuisine is the freshness of ingredients.

Although that may not come as a surprise, there is much more to the idea of freshness of food than the average American would expect.

Buy in bulk? Think again.

Anderson Japanese Gardens, Rockford, Illinois

Tucked away amidst the bustling metropolis of Rockford, Illinois, are the 12 acres of lush vegetation and tranquility that comprise the Anderson Japanese Gardens. 

Unlike in traditional botanical gardens, visitors will not find themselves peering at strategically placed cards with unpronounceable Latin and English names. Anderson Gardens offers something entirely different. The goal of the gardens is not to enlighten individuals simply about plants but about the necessity of perseverance, purity, respect and tranquility.

THE HISTORY

John Anderson, the gardens’ founder, discovered his love and appreciation of Japanese culture after visiting Japan on a business trip in 1966. Then, in Portland, Oregon, during a layover he asked a taxi driver about interesting sights in the area and found himself at Washington Park Gardens, which contains the Portland Japanese Garden. He was in awe of its beauty and tranquility and began plans to convert his 14-acre property in Rockford, Illinois, into something of comparable serenity.