I was on the Internet looking for some information on New Glarus. As chance would have it, our campground had wireless and this helped change our fate. If only I had found the Glarner Stube a day earlier and we had arrived even an hour earlier. As it was, we had arrived too late to go to the New Glarus Brewery. It was not a restaurant but merely a tasting room and closed at 4 PM. It would have to wait till the next day and that would slow up our departure for Chicago but we had gone too far out of our way to forsake it.
The Glarner Stube sounded like walking into a restaurant in Switzerland or Germany and if there was one thing my wife could do with, it was a taste of home. Arriving in the cute little town of New Glarus the next morning, tears well up in my wife's eyes. After a half year of discovering America, it must have felt nice to find a part of it that looked so familiar. The brewery visit was a bit disappointing though I did walk out with many bottles of the beer that had been the focus of this whole hunt. What this had led to was the cutest little restaurant that just happened to have all the breweries beers on tap. It was a brewery font if ever there was one. It oozed warm cosiness. It was the Gemutlichkeit we had been searching for in all remotely Germanic sounding places we had stopped in vain over the course of a summer mostly spent in a quest for the wilderness. The food was piping hot and very authentic. The beer really an afterthought and that was coming from me, who had come a long way for the beer. For D, she was in heaven and maybe for the first time, she enjoyed a brewery visit more than me even if she drank only a taste. It wasn't the beer that made her happy. It wasn't really the food. It was the place and how it made her feel. Thousands of miles from either her home in Germany or Florida, she felt like she was home. And after a half year on the road, living in a tent, that was a very nice feeling indeed.
New Glarus turned out to be a much nice place than we ever imagined but the reason we came was New Glarus Brewing. If in the area, a visit is nearly mandatory
Fondest memory: It was colder in the tent that it had been even though we were some 9000 feet lower in elevation than we were pitching it less than a week earlier. It took me an hour or so before I realized it was the humidity. It wasn't raining. It was just a damp cold. The kind that seeps into your bones. My poor wife was succumbing to a cold after five months of being run ragged around the western US. Her body is funny that way. It will not allow itself to get sick until the task, be it work or the trip of a lifetime, is over. I had made her a hot meal but eating outside at a campground on the outskirts of Madison, Wisconsin in October was not what the doctor ordered. Well, none of the last few days had. They had been rushed a bit by the season but also by trying to fit our many friends' schedules into our visiting them. What for us had been a carefree summer hemmed in only by our desires was now about to meet up head-on with reality and neither of us was having an easy time of coming to terms with it.
We had decided last minute to take an Interstate a couple of hundred miles north of the one we could have to head “back east.” This was fueled by staying on a friend's farm in South Dakota and stopping at a great brewery in Wisconsin. Hence, our camping outside of Madison. That would not have been so bad except that there was close to 24 hours of driving between it and where we made this decision, Denver, Colorado. Toss in a detour through the Badlands and you have a recipe for a hectic few days and some would say, getting sick which was where D was now heading. But she's a great sleeper and that's the best cure for a cold. So, she was huddled up in her two sleeping bags, toasty and warm. (continued below in Fondest Memory)
I loved to hike,walk around New Glarus and the state forrest.The prairieflowers will always be in my memory.Beautiful campingarea and park.
Fondest memory: the friendly people and the wonderful nature around New Glarus
Favorite thing: My friend Al reacts violently when I tell him that the "Swiss Miss" is just a myth. (Try saying that fast three times.)
Favorite thing: A "living history" site which demonstrates aspect of life from the mid to late 19th century, when Swiss immigrants (from German-speaking cantons) made New Glarus the focus of their settlements.