Last weekend we visited Norway and had such a great time, we decided to stop by Switzerland next. Or at least the closest thing to Zurich here in America’s Dairyland. That would be New Glarus, Wisconsin, a/k/a “America’s Little Switzerland.”
All we knew about New Glarus was their brewery. It’s the home of Spotted Cow beer, Wisconsin’s home-grown favorite. People are so passionate about this beer, they go to great lengths to obtain it if they don’t live here, because it’s illegal to sell Spotted Cow outside the state. Seriously, a Minnesota bar owner was busted for doing that a few years ago. Last summer, during our “vacation” to Madison – wink, wink – my boss at CenturyCo paid me to bring back a case for him. I don’t think that’s against the law, but if I’m hit with a felony in the next few days for interstate Farmhouse Ale trafficking, you’ll know why.
New Glarus was named after Glarus, Switzerland, a region renowned for its rolling hills dotted with small towns, farms, and woodland pastures. Swiss pioneers settled the town in 1845 and, while they may not have worked very hard at coming up with an original name, the Wisconsin geography is basically identical, so why mess with perfection? Those Swiss immigrants have kept the heritage going strong for 178 years and counting. That’s evident the minute you step out of your car.
It kind of reminds me of Leavenworth, a Bavarian-themed village in Washington, but on a much smaller scale.
New Glarus is about an hour west of us, so we left mid-morning and enjoyed a leisurely drive through mostly backroads to get there. We had no real plan other than “drive to New Glarus,” so once that part was done, we sort of sat there in the car wondering what to do next. Turning around and heading back home would have been anticlimactic, so instead we decided to walk around the quaint little downtown.
Our fist stop was a shop that sold novelty items like these.
Did Tara buy the Snoop Dogg cookbook? Fo shizzle. His Wake ‘n Bake Corpse Reviver (gin, Cointreau, sweet vermouth, lemon juice, and orange peel for garnish) indeed sounds like it would do the trick, and the Buttermiziilk Pound Cake Cake Cake Cake would surely satisfy any sweet tooth, but we’re most excited for the Baby Got Back Ribs and Mack and Cheese.
Dinner parties at Casa Petruska are gonna be dope.
#punintended
We continued on our way, and spotted the following sign.
“Silvesterchlausen!” I exclaimed.
“Gesundheit,” Tara replied.
You know how Forrest Gump always found himself unexpectedly in the midst of some big, random event? We kinda felt that way yesterday when we learned there would be a parade of costumed Swiss yodelers taking to the streets in less than two hours. Originally we were going to move onto a few other nearby towns after checking out New Glarus, but when the stars align and Fate brings you directly in the path of such frivolity, you don’t question it. Instead, you change up your plans and park your ass inside a bar and grill to pass the time. Preferably one with a leather-clad cow above the door, a leg lamp in the window, and a Bloody Mary and beer chaser on the menu. Through divine intervention, we found a place with all three.
Soon it was 2:00, so we hit the street in search of the masked yodelers. They weren’t hard to find.
Now I feel bad for dragging our Christmas tree to the curb for recycling. I could have turned it into a trendy Swiss outfit! The Grinch ain’t got nothin’ on these guys.
Silvesterchlausen, by the way, originated in Appenzell, Switzerland. These masked persons, known as New Year’s mummers, take to the streets every December 31 to celebrate Saint Sylvester’s Day. I don’t know much about any of that, but any excuse to dress up like Oscar the Grouch is good enough for me.
We find the coolest things, don’t we?
Mark My Words 
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