Travellers from all over the world appreciate Wolcottville landmarks because of their surprisingly rural authenticity, and I must confess that I myself only landed here after a detour over the I‐69, because the GPS seems to have a flaw for large-city trout. The city was founded in 1850, named after the revolutionary Oliver Wolcott, and is embedded in the tranquil Orange Township of the venerable Noble County. Whoever comes here immediately senses the crunching flair of a community that has since 19. The century has barely liberated its original charm – a bit like a well-preserved farmhouse, which suddenly houses a café serving more hipster salads than milk coffee.
I strolled along the old main road, past the historic school building, which today serves as a community centre – a place where villagers still discuss the weather as if it were a national event. The journey is a little adventure for yourself: a short trip from US-33, a short stop at State Road 5, and if you're lucky, you'll get a rare bus from Kendallville, which stops here for a few minutes before it goes on.
What I particularly like is the mixture of quiet nature and the occasional, almost schelmic smiles of the locals who like to offer you a piece of apple cake while telling you that the “Wolcottville Sights” are actually just a collection of old barns, a small park and a cemetery that holds more stories than one would find in a guide. And that's what makes the charm – a bit rough, a bit warm, and definitely not for every taste, but for me a real highlight.
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The old station of Wolcottville, which today is only a rusty chimney, reminds me every time that there was more going on than in a small village that you hardly find on the map. While I was standing there, the idea came to me not to turn in circles, but to explore some real highlights in the surrounding area – and that proved to be better pastime than the constant waiting for the next train.
A short detour to the north leads directly to Pokagon State Park, the only place in Indiana, where you can enjoy an official toboggan run in winter, while the locals paddle over the huge lakes in summer. I tried the famous Toboggan Run there for the first time; that was a mix of childish joy and the silent thought that I might feel too old for such actions. Parking is almost always a Klack at the main parking lot, except for the long weekends in August, as the vans stack like Tetris stones.
Only half an hour further southwest Chain O'Lakes State Park. The name sounds like a romantic poem that is available in a café, but the reality is rather a wild mix of fishing, boating and the occasional “I‐hab‐my-boat-lost-and-now – swim – I-back-to-home” feeling. I rented a small kayak there and I was suffocated over the interconnected lakes – the water was so clear that I almost thought I could watch the fish while swimming, while at the same time I thought if I should not stay on the shore.
A jump back into history leads me to Albion, where the Noble County Historical Museum resided in an old school building. The exhibition is not exactly an Instagram hotspot, but the old farm machines and the handwritten diaries of the pioneers have something calming. I remember standing in a dusty room and suddenly heard the sound of an old typewriter – that was the only “click-coat” that reminded me that there used to be real work. The museum has a small car park right in front of the door, which is practical, otherwise you have to find a place in the narrow streets of Albion.
If you have enough of dusty halls, it is worth a detour to St. Joseph River. The river winds through the landscape like a Moravian tourist who refuses to change the way. I spent a few hours there with a self-picked raft that had more holes than I could count, and somehow came to the finish. On the shore there are some rustic picnic tables that you can use for free – a small comfort when the raft suddenly gets a leak.
A short slut to the east brings me to LaGrange, where the imposing LaGrange County Courthouse from the 19th century. The building is a prime example of Victorian splendour, which is otherwise only seen in films, and the surrounding main road is spiced with antique shops that attract more dust than customers. I found an old book about the local history that I immediately browsed extensively while waiting for the city administration to finally open its door – that took about as long as an average movie night.
For those who prefer to travel on two wheels, Wabash and Erie Canal Trail A must. The path leads through fields, small villages and occasionally to abandoned canal canals that tell more stories than most guides would ever dare. I turned a round there while the sun slowly went down, and noticed that the only sound was the quiet surging of my tires – a rare feeling of rest in an otherwise so loud world. Along the trail there are several free parking spaces, but on sunny Saturdays it can be narrow because the families with picnic baskets occupy the best places.
Last but not least, if you are looking for a change all year, you should Noble County Fairgrounds keep in mind. The annual fair is a colorful mess of rides, local crafts stands and a lot of people who believe that life in the country is still a bit easier. I watched a pumpkin competition where the participants presented their own creations – a real eye-catcher if you don't look too much at the sheer size of the pumpkins. Parking is almost always sufficient at the festival grounds, as long as you do not try to visit a concert on the same day, which is suddenly organized separately for the visitors.
Whether you're looking for nature, history or a bit of rural chaos, the surroundings of Wolcottville offer more than enough reasons to decorate and take off your own compass – all without the usual tourist crowds. So the next time he thinks where he should spend his spare time, the Wolcottville Sights do not miss.
This guide invites you to make a small, but self-contained trip through Wolcottville – yes, just the tiny little town you could almost overlook on the map if you are not looking for a good piece of corn.
I must confess at the beginning that my heart for the Wolcottville Public Library beats. Not because it is an architectural miracle – the building is rather a sober brick block – but because the only quiet corners of the city can be found there. I once borrowed a book about the history of the region, and while I was sitting in the reading room, I heard the quiet sum of the air conditioning that almost seemed like a soothing whining of an old tractor. Parking is usually easy, except on Saturday night, there will be a real problem, because then the weekly board game tournament takes place in the side room and people turn off their cars like trophies.
A short walk down the main road leads you to Wolcottville Historical Museum. Here I keep my personal preference for dusty drawers full of old photos and yellowed newspapers. I don't quite understand the hype about modern art, but the exhibition of old agricultural machinery and the creeping wood of the original swing, which once belonged to a local peasant, is really great. The museum does not have a large parking lot, so you prefer to park at the end of Main Street and run a few blocks – this is good for the leg muscles when you explore the area anyway.
If you are looking for a place where you can get rid of your energy, then the Wolcottville City Park That's right. The park is small, but it has a baseball court, a playground and a small lake where ducks paddle in front of themselves. I once made a picnic with friends, and a curious dog tried to steal my sandwiches – a real highlight I will never forget. The park is free, and parking is directly at the entrance where an old, slightly sloping sign “Parking here allowed” stands.
Another jewel I always mention is that Wolcottville Community Center. Here you will find everything from yoga courses to country music evenings that are sometimes so loud that the neighbors close their windows. I took part in a cooking class where we tried to perfect the famous Indiana “Fried Chicken” – the result was rather a crispy disaster, but the mood was unpaid. The center has a small parking lot behind the building, which is usually free as long as there is not a wedding ball.
For those who want to sniff fresh products and a little village love, the Wolcottville Farmers Market A must. Every Saturday morning, local farmers put out their vegetables, honey and homemade cakes. I tried the best applemus of my life there sold by an older lady named Marge who told me that she has not changed the recipe since 1952. The market is located directly at the town hall, so there are enough parking spaces, but be ready to stand in traffic a few minutes because people bring their tractors.
A little away from the hustle and bustle you will find the Wolcottville Water Tower, a rusty colossus that watches over the city like a murderous guard. I did a photo there that I posted later on Instagram, just to realize that no one really understands why I should share a picture of a water tank. Nevertheless, if you want to have a little perspective on the city, drive a bit further by car and look to the right – this is the landmark everyone knows here but hardly anyone visits.
Last but not least, a short notice Wolcottville Sights: If you feel that you have seen everything, just walk along the main road and look at the small shops, antiques, handmade soaps and sell one or other strange souvenir. I bought a hand-carved wooden horse there, which is now in my living room and reminds me every time that I was here – and this is perhaps the most honest souvenir that you can take home.
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