On Friday night Blake took me on a date. I knew it was a date (as opposed to just doing something together to relax after a long busy week) because he asked me to go with him at least a few hours beforehand, it involved dinner and dessert, and because it involved a visit to a cemetery. Okay, so that last item was not a deciding factor in whether or not it was a date, but it sure was pretty neat. But I'll explain that in a minute.
There's this legendary diner about 30 miles north of us in a little town called Upland. It's called Ivanhoe's and they are famous for three things: their chicken salad, their menu of 100 different sundaes, and their menu of 100 different shakes. Blake and I have long searched for something in Indiana that would equal the deliciousness of Leatherby's in Provo. Though Ivanhoe's is close (the best we've had out here anyway), they still don't quite match up. But I'll take what I can get.
Because it was a date, we decided to go all out. Well, all out with limits. We still only ordered water because, well, it's silly to spend a small fortune on a 12 oz soda. After a dinner of burgers and fries (neither of us was in the mood for their famous chicken salad), we deliberated about what shake or sundae we were going to order. Which took quite a bit of time. I was able to narrow it to a shake, which left me with only 100 options, but poor Blake couldn't decide between a shake or a sundae, so he had all 200 choices to sift through. Finally, though, we were ready to order. I got a Double Whopper shake, which consisted of vanilla ice cream with lots of added malt mix, plus a generous helping of Whopper malt balls hand ground inside. Oh boy, was it ever tasty. Blake ordered an Almond Joy sundae, which was pretty much just like it sounds: vanilla ice cream topped with hot fudge, coconut, and almonds. It turned out that we ended up ordering the Ivanhoe's equivalents of our favorite Leatherby's specialties. We should have known this would happen before we spent so long deciding what we'd get.
There were only two downsides to dinner at Ivanhoe's. One, its popularity exceeds its seating space. We had to eat on a bench outside. Which wasn't too bad, as it was in the shade and much quieter. And two, I left there more full than I think I've ever been. I'm talking painfully full. So full I was pretty sure I wouldn't have to eat for another three days. But as painful as it was, it was still a good feeling.
We took the scenic highway route home (as opposed to hopping in I-69 again). It turns out that Upland is only a few miles north of our favorite covered bridge town, Matthews. Just south of Matthews, in a tiny speck of a town called Wheeling, there is a tiny speck of an ancient cemetery located in a grove of trees between a cow pasture and a corn field. Blake has often mentioned wanting to stop there and so, because it was a date and we were feeling extravagant or something, we pulled off the road and wandered the cemetery. I didn't realize how old this cemetery was, but my, it was quite old. Most of the headstones were dated between 1850 and 1900. The oldest we found was 1816 and the newest was 1960. Some headstones were broken (probably the result of many monstrous midwestern storms) and almost all of them were difficult to read. As we roamed among them, I couldn't help but think that Indiana was "the West" when these people were alive. This was newly settled, largely still unexplored territory. I mean, Indiana was officially admitted as a state in 1816. There were no big cities, just small homesteads. The tiny speck of a town Wheeling was probably a larger community. How things have changed.
Wheeling Cemetery was surprisingly well-maintained for how old it is. The grass was cut and there was a flag waving on a flagpole; its chain clinked loudly against the metal pole causing quite a contrast to the quietness of the cemetery. If you ever get the chance to wander through an old, just-off-an-old-highway cemetery, I recommend it. Just go while it's still light outside, because even though I'm not superstitious, old things have a tendency to be a little creepy after dark.
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