Our continuing RV trek through Ohio’s Amish Country took a wonderfully quirky turn as we rolled into Sugarcreek—just down the road from the more famous Berlin, but with a character all its own. Billed as the “Little Switzerland of Ohio,” this town is where time slows down, cheese flows freely, and the locals seem to have agreed that whimsy is an essential part of daily life. The first clue? The world’s largest cuckoo clock towering in the town square. Every half hour, its wooden doors burst open, a polka band cranks up, and a dancing couple spins their way into Swiss folklore while onlookers grin like kids at a carnival. You don’t see that in Columbus. Or anywhere else, really.
Our next stop was a hidden gem called Collectors Decanters and Steins, a museum-store mashup that proves some people collect stamps and others collect—well, thousands of figural decanters shaped like everything from cowboy boots to presidential busts. Over 3,000 of them fill the shelves, each one a little piece of Americana and a lot of fun to look at. Chris and I made a beeline to the display for our birth years, 1955 and 1956, and naturally posed for photos before I caved to temptation.
Forty-five bucks later, we left with a decanter of our very own—a piece of kitschy history now destined for the home office shelf. It’s hard to explain why something so odd feels so satisfying, but maybe that’s the point. We wandered from there into the Alpine Hills Museum, a surprisingly engaging three-floor time capsule documenting the history of Sugarcreek. The highlight? A section on early local doctors who practiced homeopathy, long before “natural medicine” was a lifestyle brand. Chris has been using homeopathy to keep us healthy for 37 years, so it felt like a small victory lap. And for the record, yes, pharmaceutical companies, homeopathy is real and does work.
Then it was off to The Secret Garden, a shop that’s part fairy tale, part art gallery, and part “what in the world is that?” Chris and Service Dog Charlie made friends with one of the store’s “guardians”—a peculiar sculpture perched outside—before venturing into the mystical world of crystals, herbs, and handcrafted oddities. It was like stepping into another realm… one that sells essential oils. Not to be outdone, I wandered into Hangar 81, where I was greeted by a pair of aliens with oversized green eyes and unnerving silence. They didn’t say a word, but I swear they were reading my thoughts. It’s that kind of town—one minute you’re learning about 19th-century home remedies, the next you’re under intergalactic observation.
By late afternoon, we returned to camp, traded our jeans for jackets, and headed to the wedding of our nephew Cameron and his lovely bride, Mandy. After a day of polka-playing clocks, decanter history, and alien encounters, witnessing their first dance felt like the perfect human counterpoint—love, family, and new beginnings. Sugarcreek isn’t just another dot on the Ohio map; it’s a reminder that the best road trips aren’t about the miles you cover but the stories you collect and the memories you share with family. From kitsch to history to cosmic curiosity to a country wedding, this little town gave us all three—and a souvenir to prove it.
