Perhaps it shouldn't come as a surprise that it was also growing at the site of Abraham Lincoln's boyhood home. The infamous one room cabin.
At the nearby "living farm", you see what life was like in Lincoln's day.
This is a hands on kind of place. It's also where Ron decided to give up canning for another hobby.
We also saw a cow cleaning it's calf, which begs the question, when mother licks her calf does it taste like hamburger? She lingered...we pondered.
In a strange twist, the town of Santa Claus, Indiana is just on the other side of the highway from Lincoln's childhood home. I am sure that he would pleased to see capitalism alive and well so close to his mother's grave.
Ron on the other hand could hardly contain himself in this holiday oasis.
We had to stop and feed his Christmas urges. Ken found it hard to catch the Holiday spirit when it is more than 80 degrees and humid.
It wasn't all fun in Santa Claus. We had to take a couple minutes to wash the 3500 miles of bugs, dirt and grime off the car.
In this carwash we leave behind 12 states.
Rolling towards the Kentucky border, our first glimpse of the end of Summer (and something other than corn). The slow turning of the leaves is making for a spectacular drive through the rolling hills of Eastern Indiana.
It seems everyone wants to claim some part of Lincoln. Even in Kentucky. But that wasn't why we were passing through. That had more to do with the nations oldest continuously running sporting event.
Churchill Downs has hosted the Kentucky Derby since 1875. It underwent a massive, multi-million dollar facelift 10 years ago. But it is still known for two things, horse racing and hats.
Here's a look from the race track from trackside. We took a little tour that got us right up to the dirt.
A stop in Kentucky could not be complete without fried chicken. Only we skipped the Colonel (for now) and had the best homestyle fried chicken at a local chain, Indi's.
This is Southern cooking, sweet potatoes, greens, mac and cheese, a buttermilk biscuit, and fried chicken so crisp, it crunches when you bite into it.
Stomachs satisfied we left Louisville and eased back into Indiana. Next stop Indianapolis.
This stop had to do with another race. Only this one has more to do with horse-power than actual horses. A drive-by of the Indianapolis Speedway was on the agenda.
It only took us an extra 40 minutes to find, thanks to bad GPS directions. You'd think a 2 1/2 mile racetrack would be easy to spot, and that signs would give you some indication of where it is... But apparently that's asking too much. But when we did find it we were most struck by the enormity of the thing. It is huge.
By time we got there the Hall of Fame and Museum was closed, but the guard out let us grab a couple shots before we were once again on our way.
From Indianapolis, we are heading North. Sunset was somewhere over Mid-America, Indiana.
By morning we'll be in Detroit. Where the only Lincolns are cars and the horsepower is in engines.
We'll get there by way of Ohio, state number 14 on our roadtrip across America. We'll stay in the Toledo area tonight. But no sleep until we eat.
Apparently Jed is famous for his fireballs, and there's a reason why.
Fried chicken bits rolled in buffalo wing sauce, covered in bacon and cheese. It's a good thing we packed antacid because the heartburn will hit tonight.