Jelly Belly now offering exclusive candy-making tours

by Jamie Rhein on

If you’ve ever wondered exactly how Jelly Belly jelly beans are made, you can do more than just watch candy being made through observation windows. The Jelly Belly Candy Company in Fairfield, California has opened its doors for exclusive tours called Jelly Belly University Tours. The tours are reservation only and cost a pretty penny.

For $47 you’ll get to don a white coat, gloves and a hairnet for a personal tour through the actual factory. Reading about this reminded me a bit of Willy Wonka, except when you taste the good stuff and the experience won’t turn you into a blueberry, shrink you to a tiny size, or have you taken away by squirrels.

The reason why the tour is so expensive is that it’s exclusive. Only six people are taken through at a time so you’ll have an up close and personal experience while surrounded by the sweetness.

If you don’t want to pay this kind of cash, you can still take the company’s free factory tour but it doesn’t give you that personal touch. Here’s the link to factory tour information.

For anyone who loves Jelly Belly jelly beans, the store would be a blast. All those flavors. My son, though, would need some coaching beforehand, or he would go totally nuts with the excitement of seeing such splendor.

Great American Road Trip: St. Cloud, Minnesota, yak meat and Hoopers’ Christmas Tree Farm

by Jamie Rhein on

When we pulled into the driveway of our friends’ house in St. Cloud, Minnesota, as part of our Great American Road trip to Montana, we didn’t have any plans except to visit. The last time we saw them was at our house in Columbus, and since then they had moved from State College, Pennsylvania to St. Cloud.

As with any visit, there’s always something new to find out. about the town where friends land. People who live there know the insider info that may not show up in a guidebook. Such was the case when I found out were were having yak meat for dinner.

I’ve been to Nepal where yaks seem as common as cows. While there, I never had yak meat. As it turns out Hoopers’ Christmas Tree Farm in Cold Spring, Minnesota has a herd of 60 or so yak making this the largest yak herd in the eastern part of the U.S. Who knew?

Our friends have toured the farm and loved it. John Hooper, the farm’s owner has worked with The Yak Company in China as a consultant. While there, he lived with Tibetans and, as a result, acquired an interest in Tibetan culture. My friend says that the ranch reflects this exchange.

Hooper sells his yak meat at various farmers’ markets in the area. We ate yak sausages, hot dogs and marinated meat. All quite delicious. Here’s a link to the page that tells all about yak farming.

Photo of Hooper and one of his yaks is by Lucille Guinta-Bates who was kind enough to email it to me.

Great American Road Trip: More road kill woes and how to clean a car

by Jamie Rhein on

The first mishap was when we nailed a possum in Illinois east of Chicago the first night of our road trip to Montana. The critter was lumbering across the interstate about 10:30 p.m. That was a sad moment.

Thursday, driving to and from Regent, North Dakota we had several sad moments. Honestly, there are some things that can’t be avoided.

I already posted about the two pheasants we hit. The chipmunk and the blackbird came later.

We didn’t hit them all at once, but over the course of several miles. Such is one of the realities of traveling on small two-lane highways–but this was ridiculous. Particularly when two raccoons made a mad dash in front of us as I was typing the previous sentence. The second one didn’t make it.

With each thump, I’m shouting out from the passenger seat, a strangled “Arggh!” Seriously, it was a nightmare. “That’s one way to damage a car,” I said.

“It’s not like I’m trying to hit them,” said my husband. It’s true, he wasn’t, and swerving too much is dangerous. He pointed out the deep ditch on the side of the road.

My son, the six-year-old wanted to stop for feathers and fur.

My daughter wanted to know why I’m making such an awful sound.

Turns out, I was onto something. While my husband was filling the gas tank in Miles City, Montana after dropping us off at a McDonald’s so our son could let off steam at the indoor playland, one of the pheasants was still with us. It had broken the grill a tad–just big enough to become wedged behind it.

Two truckers, noticing the predicament, exchanged their road kill tales with my husband and helped him figure out how to remove it. The windshield squeegee handle was somehow involved. I didn’t want the specific details.

When my husband showed up at the McDonald’s parking lot with the pheasant in a plastic bag with grand plans of showing it to our friend in Billings, I shouted, “Arggh!” and ran in the opposite direction. “No dead things in the car. Absolutely not,” I shouted from where I stood, still ready to flee if he stepped one foot closer. I hate dead things.

The pheasant was left in a garbage can in Miles City. There are a couple feathers in another bag behind the driver’s seat, but I’m trying not to think about them.

A woman told us, as she was sliding into her truck after hearing about our pheasant mishap, “Watch out for deer.”

The photo is of my son trailing his hand out the window for a moment to catch raindrops, one of the pleasant aspects of the day. Not pheasant–pleasant.

Great American Road Trip: North Dakota. Dodging pheasants in the midst of huge sculptures

by Jamie Rhein on

Thursday afternoon we turned off of I-94 at exit 72 for Regent, North Dakota for a detour. Three years ago, we became so enamored with this stretch of two-lane road called “The Enchanted Highway” that we decided it was worth the forty or so miles out of our way for a return visit. Our goal was Billings, Montana by 10:30 p.m.

Every five miles or so along the 32 miles to Regent, there is a large scrap metal sculpture grouping. A tin family, schools of fish, grasshoppers, Teddy Roosevelt on a horse, and a pheasant family. They are the largest scrap metal sculptures in the world. They are superb.

Back in 1989, Gary Greff, a former teacher and high school principal, came up with the idea of this series of sculptures as a way to draw people to Regent. It’s worked with us twice now. The first time I heard an interview with him on National Public Radio three years ago. As I listened to the interview, I thought heading through North Dakota to see the sculptures was a fine idea.

Greff’s plan to draw tourists is slowly working. As I was snapping photos this time, two other couples were chasing images as well. One couple boasted Florida plates. The other hailed from Minnesota.

We stopped in one of the town’s gift shops to buy post cards and coffee. The sculptures were as wonderful as I remembered and Greff has plans for another.

One of the sculpture groups that intrigues me the most is the pheasant family. They are constructed out of thin wire mesh so that each can be viewed through the others. This time as we were driving to and from Regent, I understood why the pheasant family is so fitting.

There are pheasants everywhere on the Enchanted Highway. Sad to say, despite my husband’s swerving and dodging, we took out two–one of them while I was writing the text for this post. You’ve never seen so many pheasans. They darted, meandered, waltzed, and played peek-a-boo in the thigh high grass. Each time we had a near miss, I yelled out, “Argh!!”

Such are the details that make one road trip memorable from another. Years from now we’ll recount tales of how we tried to dodge pheasants and stopped the car so our 15 year-old could run through the field to try to catch one. Why she wanted to try to catch one, I have no idea. But it was wonderful to hear her laugh with abandon.

Great American Road Trip: History lesson. Fort Abraham Lincoln, North Dakota

by Jamie Rhein on

Although we head to Montana every summer, each year holds something different. Even if we travel on the same highway, we’ll take in something new. This time, I found Fort Abraham Lincoln State Park in Mandan, North Dakota, a few miles from Bismarck.

This is a perfect place for brushing up on a history lesson and getting a sense of what life was like on the Great Plains back when the Mandan Indians and Lt. Col. George Armstrong Custer lived here.

The Mandans lived between the deep ravine and the Missouri River from 1575-1781 prior to Lewis and Clark’s arrival on the scene. Custer and his gang were later than that, but now, each part of history converges in the state run park.

Even though the fort was abandoned back in 1882, and the settlers took down many of the buildings for lumber, Custer’s house, army barracks, a granary and the stable have been either refurbished or reconstructed. There are stone markers that show where the missing buildings used to be.

We were lucky enough to roll into the parking lot ten minutes before the 1:00 p.m. interpretive tour. The tour, conducted by a dashing fellow in period army uniform, centered mostly on the house, but included what life was like for everyone from the soldiers to Elizabeth “Libbie” Custer, Custer’s wife.

She was living here when he died at the Battle of Little Big Horn. In case you’re wondering, she moved back to Michigan where she was from and her family still lived. She never remarried, and died when she was 91.

In one of the reconstructed barracks, you can find out what they looked like way back when. The set up is exactly like it would have looked when it housed men who were from as far away as Ireland and Sweden.

One room includes footlocker style boxes similar to the ones actually used by members of the 7th Calvary. There is a sign on each one that states the name of the person, where he was from and where he died, if known. Several died with Custer. I saw one that died in the Battle of Wounded Knee. One guy was from Ulster County, New York which is where I lived from 8th grade through high school.

Along with the tour of the fort, admission includes a tour of On-A-Slant Indian village where the Mandans lived before most of them were wiped out by small pox. That’s what the guide told us. There are five reconstructed earth lodges, each set up to tell about a different aspect of Mandan life.

Before this tour, I didn’t know much about the Mandan Indians. The guide pointed out details about their farming practices, tools and beliefs. We didn’t have much time in the museum because of our need to get back on the highway for the Billings leg of this trip.

I could have easily spent more time, but felt satisfied because of the information gathered from the tours.

If you do head this way, there is a campground at the state park, a concession stand and a café. The book shop and gift shop are well done.

I highly recommend this stop if you’re traveling with kids. As I told my son, “When you read about this part of history in school, you’ll have actually been to these places where the history happened.” Not a bad idea for adults either.

For the four of us, admission and parking was $21. Our son was free because he is 6 years-old. Our daughter was the student rate, $4. My husband and I were $6 each and parking was $5. The $5 parking was actually the cost to get into the park. The tours cost extra. Spend the money.

You can’t get into the buildings or to the Mandan village without paying for the tour.