Indiananapolis: Indiana State Capitol
I didn’t sleep well last night. I was parked at a Cracker Barrel that sat about 200 feet from I-65, and the sound of semi trucks downshifting echoed through the van like a diesel lullaby on repeat. By morning, I gave up trying to sleep and headed to Planet Fitness for a workout. My legs were tired from the ride yesterday, but my upper body felt surprisingly strong. Afterward, I made oatmeal in the Planet Fitness parking lot—one of those vanlife rituals that somehow feels both ridiculous and completely normal.
I found street parking just a block from the Indiana State House and had barely shifted into park when a truck pulled up beside me. The guy inside, asked if I knew how the parking worked. I gave my best city-parking summary: “Enter your license, tell the machine how long you’ll be here, and pay with cash, card, or Apple Pay.” Turns out I was only partly right—Indianapolis uses numbered parking zones, and Apple Pay isn’t an option. But the better surprise? The driver was a state representative from Oklahoma, Senator Jett, here with his family—presumably for the Pacers vs. Thunder game later that night. We ended up chatting for a few minutes, swapped contact info, and he told me to reach out when I make it to Oklahoma. Not your typical parking meter interaction.
Once I made it to the capitol grounds, I wandered for a while. The place looked very different from my last visit years ago. The archways leading to various state government buildings were striking, forming a corridor that pulled me forward to a small street market. It was mostly food stands, but a few booths had crafts, plants, or flyers for local causes. One stand immediately caught my attention—maple syrup. If coffee is my number one essential, maple syrup isn’t far behind. The woman running the booth had all sorts of flavored syrups (not my thing), but also four pure varieties ranging from light amber to nearly black. I chose the darkest one. It had a deep, molasses-like finish—perfect for my oatmeal.
Inside, I found the information desk and got lucky—there was a guided tour starting in five minutes. Most of the tour focused on the second floor. Our guide gave a quick overview of Indiana’s state capital history. Before this building, the state’s first capital was in Corydon (yes, really), before moving to Indianapolis. The current building was completed in 1888, with a planned budget of $2 million. Supposedly, they came in under budget—which sounds suspicious for a government project from any century, but sure, let’s go with it.
The architecture was classic and intentional. The Capitol features all three Greek column orders—Doric, Ionic, and Corinthian—stacked vertically from bottom to top, symbolizing strength, beauty, and wisdom. We visited the Secretary of State’s office and then moved into the House of Representatives chamber. There are 100 members, and the room feels built for grand oratory. From there, we stepped into the Senate chamber, a room arranged so members face a corner—where the Speaker or President sits—rather than facing straight ahead.
One of my favorite stops was the Indiana Supreme Court. It’s housed in the same building—something only eight states do. The courtroom is a perfect cube, meant to reflect equality. The windows have owl’s eyes etched into the design, a symbol of wisdom. Another motif (whose name escapes me) represented impartiality and unbiased thinking.
One of my favorite stops was the Indiana Supreme Court. It’s housed in the same building—something only eight states do. The courtroom is a perfect cube, meant to reflect equality. The windows have owl’s eyes etched into the design, a symbol of wisdom. Another motif (whose name escapes me) represented impartiality and unbiased thinking.
On the top floor, I learned something charming: couples often elope at the Capitol. They bring their own officiants and get married under the massive dome. Apparently, there are even people whose main job is marrying folks right there on the spot. Not a bad gig—high ceilings, marble staircases, and built-in symbolism.
After the tour, I still had a few hours left on the parking meter, so I wandered through the city with my camera, trying to get creative. I captured reflections in windows, traffic in motion, and a squirrel cooling itself in the shade of a lamp post outside the post office. I snapped shots of architecture that stood out, people on the street, and the unmistakable energy of Oklahoma Thunder fans who had made the trip to Indy. I tried to catch the mood and movement of the city on this sunny Juneteenth afternoon.
Around 2:45, I went hunting for a coffee shop. I tried place after place, and each was either closed early for the holiday, not open on Thursdays (why Thursday?), or had simply shut their doors for no clear reason. It became a sort of mini-quest—one that ended in defeat. Between 2:45 and 4 p.m., the downtown coffee scene was a ghost town.
I made it back to the van around 5 and drove to Riverside Park, just a short distance away. I made dinner and caught up on a few emails. It was peaceful and low-key, a good way to unwind after a full day of walking, shooting, and talking politics.
Later, I found a Walmart grocery store that was right in the city—not near a highway, surprisingly quiet. I chatted with the manager, who told me their company policy allowed overnight parking. He had no problem with me staying there. Compared to the previous night beside I-65, this spot felt like a luxury suite.