Field Notes: Parke County Covered Bridge Festival
We Came for the Bridges. We Stayed for the Junk.
October 17 | Parke County Covered Bridge Festival, Indiana
This week's haul looks a little different. The 127 crew reunited for another adventure, this time heading to southern Indiana for the annual Parke County Covered Bridge Festival.
If you're unfamiliar with this event, it's a celebration of Parke County's 31 covered bridges, spread across nine communities. The festival has been going strong since 1957. My friends had attended before. This was my first time. I was told there would be covered bridges, festival food, garage sales, and possibly some antiques. YOU HAD ME AT ANTIQUES. I packed accordingly. By that, I mean minimally so there would be room in the car.
Day One: Donuts, Detours, and Questionable Self-Control
We arrived at our Airbnb farmhouse shortly before midnight on Wednesday. The house was approximately 150 years old. At midnight, it was a little creaky. A little spooky. Possibly occupied by the ghosts of farmers past. But by morning, it was absolutely charming and the perfect home base for our adventure.
Thursday greeted us with crisp fall temperatures, cloudy skies, and a forecast that included rain. Our first destination was Bridgeton, home to one of the largest festival gatherings. We had a plan. We had GPS. We had absolutely no intention of following that plan if something interesting appeared along the road. Which brings me to the donuts. We were driving through the countryside when Lo, our designated driver, suddenly slowed almost to a stop. "Do you see what I see?" There, seemingly in the middle of nowhere, was a farmhouse with a small outbuilding. A sign said DONUTS. A flashing neon sign said OPEN. TURN. THE. CAR.
The lovely woman running the little shop explained that she was retired and had started making donuts. Her business had grown to supplying several local establishments, and she also sold directly from her little shop on weekends. She had opened specially on Thursday for the festival. And every order was made fresh. We ordered a plain glazed, a chocolate, and a maple bacon donut. Our strategy for this trip was to order different foods and share them so we could sample as many things as possible. These donuts arrived warm. Fresh. Absolutely glorious. We hadn't even made it to the festival, and the food situation was already getting out of hand.
A Covered Bridge Around Every Bend
One of the most delightful things about Parke County is the landscape itself. Rolling hills, winding roads, little farms tucked into valleys, and gravel roads that seem to disappear into the woods. Then you round a bend. And there's a covered bridge. Some are still open to traffic. Others have been preserved while the roads have been rerouted. Each one feels like stumbling onto a little piece of history. Which is exactly my kind of thing. We were approaching Bridgeton when another sign appeared. BARN SALE. And then the magic word. ANTIQUES. Well. We were going to be late to the festival.
At the barn sale, I found a cast iron jack-o'-lantern doorstop. It's not particularly old, but I loved the look of it.
Then I spotted something I had never encountered before: an actual canary mine cage. You've heard the expression "canary in a coal mine"? This was a cage made to carry one. I sincerely hope its former occupants enjoyed long and uneventful careers.
I also found several vintage seed packets with fantastic graphics.
Three purchases before we even reached our intended destination. THE FORAGING HAD OFFICIALLY BEGUN.
Bridgeton: History, Food, and More Food
When we finally arrived in Bridgeton, the setting was stunning.
A beautiful old covered bridge beside the historic Bridgeton Mill, with water spilling over the dam and autumn trees framing the scene. And the smells. OH, THE SMELLS. Festival food was coming from every direction.
We walked across the bridge and into the mill, where flour and cornmeal are still produced. A gentleman was milling wheat and took the time to explain the process and demonstrate the equipment. I could have stayed there much longer. Old machinery still doing the job it was built to do?
Fascinating. We left with several kinds of flour, cornmeal, grits, and a jar of peach-apricot jam.
And a chocolate whoopie pie. For later. Because apparently we were showing restraint.
Outside the mill, we found a booth serving breakfast sandwiches made with the mill's own bread. We shared a bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich. The bread was denser than we preferred, but the sandwich was delicious.
Then we encountered a vendor offering samples of homemade caramels. He knew exactly what he was doing. One sample later, we were purchasing an assortment to take home.
We also sampled Sati Babi, wonderfully seasoned marinated pork served hot off the grill on a stick.
Somewhere along the way, I located an antique dealer and purchased an old wooden ice cream bucket.
My plan? Put a Christmas tree in it. Because, as we all know, the correct number of containers for displaying little Christmas trees is MORE.
We wandered through the vendors, admiring handmade goods, antiques, and one particularly spectacular Christmas tree constructed entirely from antlers. I asked permission to photograph it. It was quite a sight.
Three More Communities and Eight Bridges
After Bridgeton, we headed to Rosedale. Its festival was much smaller, contained inside the community building. We browsed the vendors and shared a hearty lunch of chicken and noodles, mashed potatoes, green beans, and a roll. Midwestern comfort food at its finest. As we ate, the rain arrived. We made a dash for the car and continued to Mecca, a tiny community whose festival consisted of one tent. A for effort, Mecca. Then it was on to Montezuma, with more covered bridges along the way.
We also stopped at several garage sales. And bought absolutely nothing. Most had been running since the previous Friday, and the vintage pickings were slim. Yes, I am capable of leaving a garage sale empty-handed.
By the time we reached Montezuma, the rain was coming down steadily and vendors were packing up.
We called it a day and headed back to our farmhouse. Our covered bridge count? Eight. Two of which we had driven through. And after dinner, we finally shared that chocolate whoopie pie. A very respectable first day.
Day Two: Familiar Faces and a Persimmon Revelation
Friday was cooler, with more rain in the forecast. We headed to Rockville, the county seat, where vendor tents filled the courthouse square and antique shops lined the surrounding streets.
In the first antique shop, I found a pair of framed needlepoint pictures. They were priced beautifully because the mats had water damage. The needlework itself looked good, and replacing mats is an easy fix. MY KIND OF DISCOUNT.
As we approached the checkout, I spotted a familiar face. Then another. Kathy and Kevin! They're friends and fellow antique dealers whose booth is right next to mine at Pipe Creek Mercantile in Peru. My traveling companions insist I cannot go anywhere without running into someone I know. Apparently this includes wandering around rural Indiana looking for old things. On the way home we discussed the odds of running into someone you know when you're 160 miles from home. And yet it happens a lot! Crazy!
We headed to the courthouse square. I purchased an "I Smell Snow" sweatshirt.
Gilmore Girls fans will understand. Everyone else can simply assume I'm strange. That's fair
I also picked up a covered bridge ornament. Made by the vendor's grand daughter.
We also bought kettle corn to take home. Then we continued exploring.
The Great Persimmon Discovery of 2026
In Bloomingdale, we stopped at a Quaker church hosting vendors. We purchased a miniature loaf of persimmon bread. Persimmon products were everywhere at the festival, but none of us had ever tasted one. We decided a mini loaf was a reasonable introduction. MISTAKE. Not because it was bad. Because it was DELICIOUS. We were barely down the road before regretting that we hadn't bought the full-size loaf. Then we stopped at a garage sale on an Amish farm. Among the merchandise was a table loaded with baked goods. Including persimmon bread. WE HAD BEEN GIVEN A SECOND CHANCE.
We struck up a conversation with the woman selling the baked goods and explained that we had just tried our first persimmon bread at the Quaker church. She smiled. She had made that bread, too. Of course she had. She asked how much was left at the church. When we told her the supply was dwindling, she said she needed to send her husband over with another load. Then she offered us samples of persimmon cookies. Wonderful. Then she asked if we'd ever eaten an actual persimmon. Nope. She walked outside to her tree, picked three ripe persimmons, and handed them to us. Friends. WHERE HAVE PERSIMMONS BEEN ALL MY LIFE? Juicy. Sweet. Absolutely delicious. We left with multiple loaves of persimmon bread, persimmon cookies, and a loaf of pumpkin bread made with fresh pumpkin rather than canned purée. I am still thinking about that pumpkin bread.
We stopped for a garage sale. We left with baked goods and an education.
Buried Beef and More Bridges
Next came Tangier, famous for its buried beef. Yes, buried. The beef is cooked underground in a pit. We sampled both the regular and barbecue versions. And because apparently our digestive systems had agreed to participate in an endurance event, we finished with a shared slice of homemade strawberry pie.
We continued through several communities, saw more covered bridges, drove through a few, and explored the area around Turkey Run State Park. We also made a stop at Gobbler's Knob General Store. Then it was time for our final festival destination. And my favorite.
Billie Creek Village: Saving the Best for Last
Billie Creek Village was absolutely delightful. Set on approximately 70 acres, the village features three covered bridges and more than 30 preserved historic buildings, including log cabins, churches, and a Victorian home. The pace felt a little slower. The setting was beautiful. It was the sort of place where you could wander for hours, looking at buildings and imagining the people who once lived and worked in them. Which, for someone who loves old things and their stories, is pretty much paradise.
Naturally, we also found food. This time, Polish food. We shared potato pancakes, pierogies, and kolaches. I would like to remind everyone that this was a sightseeing trip. Allegedly.
Inside the general store, we discovered a back room filled with antiques. WELL, HELLO THERE. I found three vintage wooden advertising rulers. I collect old wooden rulers, particularly those with wonderful patina and advertising.
They are small. They are useful. They don't require me to rearrange the furniture. This is what I tell myself.
We also found a vendor selling homemade peanut butter called Paw Paw's. The plain peanut butter contains just peanuts and salt. But there were flavored varieties, too. I bought the plain and the butterscotch. Because apparently I had not purchased enough food to bring home.
Their website is https://pawpawspeanutbutters.com/collections/all
We had managed to avoid the rain all day, and as evening approached, we headed back toward Rockville. One final stop for pork rinds to take home for someone who actually enjoys them. And then back to the farmhouse.
And our covered bridge count for Day Two? Eight more bridges. Six of which we actually drove through. That brought our two-day total to 16 covered bridges, including eight drive-throughs.
Not bad for a group of women who kept getting distracted by antiques, baked goods, and handwritten sale signs. We came to see the bridges. AND WE ACTUALLY SAW THE BRIDGES. I'm as surprised as anyone.
Day Three: Anyone Up for Thrifting?
By Saturday, we'd already visited all the festival communities on our list. So we made a new plan. We would stop at garage sales, antique stores, and thrift shops on the way home. A perfectly reasonable decision. The garage sales didn't produce much. But the thrift stores? OH, THE THRIFT STORES. Particularly around Lafayette.
As soon as I walked in, I found ironstone. Stained, chippy ironstone. Perfect.
The thrift store also offered up vintage Christmas treasures.
And a gorgeous blue-and-white cutter quilt. AT A THRIFT STORE.
A beautiful old quilt, just sitting there waiting for someone who would appreciate it. That someone was me.
As I was standing in line to pay, right next to me on a shelf was... more stained, chippy ironstone. Of course I grabbed it.
A little panic set in. Should I go through the store one more time??? Did I miss more ironstone? I checked out and headed to the next few stores.
I found a few other little treasures that somehow followed me home.
Fortunately, we are experienced professionals at making things fit in the car. Not necessarily responsible professionals. But experienced.
The Bridges Were Beautiful. The Detours Were Better.
I went into this trip expecting beautiful scenery, covered bridges, good food, and a few days with friends. I didn't expect quite so many opportunities for vintage treasure hunting. I certainly didn't expect to come home with a canary cage, an old ice cream bucket, needlepoint, advertising rulers, ironstone, vintage Christmas, and a blue-and-white quilt. Or enough baked goods to seriously reconsider my grocery shopping habits. But that's what I love about these adventures.
Sometimes the best discoveries aren't on the itinerary. They're down a gravel road, behind a barn-sale sign, tucked into the back room of an old general store, or waiting on a thrift-store shelf. And sometimes they're growing on a tree in an Amish woman's yard. We've taken a lot of trips together, this little crew of ours. But this one ranks near the top.
The bridges were beautiful. The food was outstanding. The people were wonderful. And the unexpected foraging? WELL. THAT WAS JUST A BONUS. Or perhaps the universe simply knows better than to send me somewhere without old junk. Either way, I'm already looking forward to our next adventure.
Take the back road. Find the good junk.
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