Ode to Iowa, July 15-23

Iowa, Iowa. Fields upon fields of corn and soybeans. I also saw a few alfalfa fields. 

I left Sioux Falls, South Dakota on Monday, July 15th and passed into Iowa. 

I love Iowans. They are friendly, when they aren’t mad at me for taking up road space.

I knew enough to stay off county roads in South Dakota and Montana. So, I thought that I would stick with state and US highways in Iowa as well. Still a problem. There are almost no paved shoulders---the road drops off into loose gravel. If there IS a shoulder, it is generally narrow and ribbed--to keep drivers awake. However, as a tricyclist, this is an unconscionable bumpy ride that will rattle your cycle apart and jar your brains. Especially if it’s hot outside. Which it was---all week, over 90 deg with humidity. 

I thought that the mountains were challenging. They were. But ever so rewarding. I often would get to the top of a particularly steep incline in California, Oregon, Washington, and Montana, whooping aloud with glee. Then ZOOM down the other side. There is a thrill to that challenge.

The rain of Oregon soaked me to the bone. But it was actually a little fun to get that wet. Like a kid. And I rewarded myself with a motel room at the end of the days, in order to dry out my stuff. I got a kick out of picking up coffee-to-go while standing in the rain. Good things happened in Oregon. Some very, very good things. Sigh...

Then there was the wind. Emotionally draining, but I didn’t begrudge Mother Nature’s Springtime wind to spread the seeds that are so necessary to repopulate the planet with flora. It feeds the birds, the bugs, the beasts, and us---the big beasts. So, I would get to camp tired and worn, but introspective as to what the wind meant to me. I realized the connection of wind to my relationships.

But the Iowa roads. Another story altogether. I spent every minute concentrating on the rearview mirror because I had to pull over into the gravel every minute to avoid being the cause of an accident as semi truck after semi truck passed on the opposite side of the road, on blind hills (!!) in order to give me space. I would pull over into the gravel, well off the road, but the drivers still crossed over the center line on these hills. I was afraid for them. Some honked, some people yelled, even though I was in the gravel to give them space. My goal upon entering northwestern Iowa was to get south to hwy 20, which was a newly completed 4 lane highway. Surely, a nice wide shoulder awaited. Hmmm. Not so. Wide, yes, but double ribbed, taking up all the available space for my three wheels. Sigh. 

I couldn’t wait to get out of Iowa. I have loved every single state, enjoying the scenery. But in Iowa, my view had been restricted to the rearview mirror.  However, Iowa had some lessons to teach me. And what am I here for, if not the lessons?

However, the people were wonderful and the night times delightful. Every time I stopped at a Casey’s was a pleasant occurrence as well!

I certainly enjoyed the view at East Leach Park Campground in Spencer. What a delightful park. You can camp right there for $13, or $15 with electricity. A family of deer with a tiny spotted fawn came through the tall grasses not far from my tent. The fawn gamboled about while the adult deer stared at me, waiting for something to happen. I tried to take several photos but they turned out very blurry. After the deer went back into the field of incredibly tall grass, the fireflies came out. It was magical and eased the mental fatigue from the day’s battle with the Iowa highways.

A funny thing happened on the way thru Iowa on the 2nd day. I was angry. Not at anyone. I knew that the drivers sincerely wanted to avoid an accident so they gave me a wide berth. I wasn’t mad at the Iowa Dept of Transportation for not considering the width of my recumbent trike. I wasn’t angry at the state for being a farming state, although I do think the farming vehicles and the semi trucks do need more space than a single width lane without a shoulder. Some of those farming vehicles have back ends that cross over to the opposite lane as well as past the nonexistent shoulders. I was just frustrated with the road conditions. On this USA adventure, whenever I’ve been faced with a challenge, I have just told myself that “this is the way it is, so just deal with it”. So, telling myself to “buck up!” worked on the first day. 

On the second day, I got angry. The road was the catalyst to bring out the things in my mind that make me angry. Generally, I ignore the anger instead of acting on it. Dunno if that’s a mistake or not. But it gave me something to think about. 

So what was I mad about? 

War. Murder. Imperialism. Revolt without solution. Injustice. Ignorance. Prejudice. Racism. Religious intolerance. Selfishness. Abuse of our beloved Planet.

The anger left me emotionally spent but wondering at the end of the day. Should I do something more? Work for a nonprofit organization? What should I do, what can I contribute to address intolerance, injustice, greed? Anything? Nothing? Just vote? Just give to charities? I don’t know.  But I do know that something in my life is unfinished and I have yet to discover what it is. 

Anger can be just what we need to create a needed change. But I also recognize that misdirected anger can be very destructive. And that there is a stronger place for compassion and love. But can we use our anger as the enzyme that causes a metamorphosis within us to create something beautiful? And even sacred? I will be keeping these thoughts in my mind, especially as I battle through the cornbelt.

My thanks to my daughter Heather for using humor to help me get through this. To my sister Shannon who gave me empathy and advised me to let the emotions flow through me. To Peter for listening and encouraging me with wisdom and reminding me that i have a great support team. And that, lo and behold, I can see it behind me.

I really do have a great support team. Family, friends, and those I have met through this Journey. Are we really here to support each other in our respective Journeys?

What ARE we really here for? If there is no specific reason WHY we are here, other than the evolution of the ages, then what can we do to make our lives worthwhile? Is it just in breathing? In loving? In enjoying our brief moment in time? I really don’t know. 

I have met some very nice folks in Iowa. Down to earth, solid folks with an interested curiosity about others. I like that. 

There is the lady, Jody, in Inwood who runs the convenience store/auto mechanic shop, for example. She and hubby own that business and about 4 farms. She loves farming. 

Interestingly, they live a few miles out of town on a farm. She won’t let her children ride their bikes out there---it’s too dangerous. 

Even the farmers and their families really need wider, safer roads. Iowa DOT, listening? Lol!  Dozens of Iowans have asked me if I’m going to participate in RagBrai--the annual cycling event in Iowa. I chuckle quietly to myself as it is the ONLY time in the year that cyclists are out on the Iowa roads---imagine the planning and traffic control that goes into this event in a state with shoulder-less roads!!  But, back to the story. Focus, Jo, Focus!!

Jody loves farming, being out of doors, and her family. She is a vivacious lady, full of curiosity and friendliness for the folks who pop into their store. Also, quite energetic and running about 5 businesses. And raising children. People can be quite amazing, can’t they?

The first night in Iowa was spent camping at the Rivers Bend Campground next to Rock Valley. It is a new campground with 4 manmade small lakes. The trees are young there, but give it about 5 years and there will be nice shade, cooling down the campground. I had electricity at the campground, so I listened to Pandora, turned to Van Morrison, on my cellphone. It was exactly what I needed to lift my roadworn spirits.

On Tuesday, July 16th (my daughter Shannon’s birthday!), I battled the roads to get to Spencer, IA. This was a delightful town with all the modern conveniences you could want, plus a pretty park in the center. I camped at the East Leach Park Campground, mentioned earlier in this blog. Great place. 

On the way to Spencer, I met Gary at a Casey’s General Store. Casey’s is a chain of gas stations/convenience stores made for the traveler. They have good coffee and this is what kept my nerves together---regular Casey’s House Blend coffee at every opportunity I could get.  I was drinking my coffee in Boyden, IA, and he walked over to say hi and ask a few questions. He was very interested in the journey and empathized with me over the roads. 

About an hour later, on the road, he passed me and stopped ahead.  He was taking his truck back home to Minnesota. He makes the trip every day, going to and from Minnesota into the country roads of Iowa. He said he found a penny in the Casey’s parking lot and picked it up, for good luck. When he passed me on the road for the 2nd time that day, he figured I needed it more than he did, so he stopped to give it to me. 

That penny was squished flat, gouged, and jagged from repeated rollovers. The condition of that penny really touched me. He didn’t give me just any penny, but one that showed the ravages of wear and tear. And yet was still recognizable as a copper penny. There’s gotta be something said about that, don’t you think??

He told me that seeing me riding ole Henry David out on the road was what he needed that day to remind him that he has dreams, too, and that they are ready and waiting for him. I asked him about his passion. He said it was car restoration. Specifically, he restores classic Camaros. He just sold his favorite in order to expand the size of his garage. It sounds like he IS following his passion. He just doesn’t have a Camaro. Yet. But the spacious garage is ready and waiting...

On Wednesday, July 17th, I headed for Sac City, with plans to reach the newly completed hwy 20. On the way, about 15 miles out of Spencer, I was pulled over by Dennis (Denny?) who was curious about the crazy lady on the trike. He was very interested in recumbent trikes and has been considering getting one himself as a fun source of exercise. We talked about trikes. Then we talked about his passion. Poker. He LOVES to play poker and plays 3 to 5 times a week. There is a core group of buddies that regularly play together and travel to different small towns where the local poker afficionados host an evening. Dennis especially loves “Texas Hold ‘Em” and says he does fairly well at the game. He told of a local bar owner who suddenly died and the daughter came and closed the bar immediately, leaving the group of poker playing buddies without a place to play on that particular weekday night. This didn’t stop the card gang---they found another place within 24 hours. After attending the memorial of course. They dedicate their new found poker haunt to their beloved bar owner.

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At Sac City, I met “Sky”, the owner of The Sac City Motel. He and his brother run a clean, friendly motel, the only one in this picturesque little town. Being the owners of the only motel in town has not made them greedy, however. The prices are low while the services are “sky high”. Sky says he thinks it is important to go the extra mile. Across the street from The Sac City Motel is Hugh’s Cafe. This is a nondescript little cafe, and I mean little. But, good lord, they serve fantastic food for a great price. And plenty of it. The staff are friendly and all the locals love to eat there. Apparently, on the weekends, they are THE show in town. Salad bar on weekends, all you can eat fish fry on Friday nights, and a Sunday farmers’ breakfast buffet that will expand your waistline in no time flat! I ate all of my dinner, then took ice cream and coffee back to the motel for dessert. It was a great night.  Calorie counting later. Maybe...

On Thursday morning, July 18th, HD and I went in search of water at a Casey’s in Sac City before heading east. We were stopped by Peggy, who works for the city in the Veterans Affairs program. She is a vivacious little lady, about my age, who plans to participate in the RagBrai cycling tour. She gave me water for the trip to Fort Dodge and said she loves an adventure and this week long cycling event has been on her bucket list for some time. I understood that one! 

After saying thank you and good luck to Peggy, I cycled on hwy 20 for Fort Dodge. For the first 10 miles, it was fantastic. There was a nice wide shoulder and I made incredible time. Then the DOT added a second set of ribs on the shoulder, making it too narrow for HD to fit. So, it was back to dodging traffic and riding on gravel or the bumpy ribs. I guess the regular bicycles will not have a problem, unless they don’t want to cycle single file! I am still trying to picture the RagBrai cycling event. 

I was having a bit of a problem with some of HD’s gearing, but I hoped it would hold together until I got to Illinois and stay with Russ, my stepdad. I stopped at The Bike Shop in Fort Dodge. They were shortstaffed and work was backed up due to the upcoming RagBrai. 

The single campground was a bit out of town and I was outside the bike shop, googling for lodging when I met Max, a cyclist from Taiwan, who is traveling from Canada to Florida before heading back home. Max was a chatty guy and told me all sorts of stuff he is learning from TedTalks. He was especially intrigued with the idea of severing a head and attaching it to another body. You could go to sleep and wake up with another body under you. He suggested that if I use his body with my head, I could have more defined calves and stronger legs. This would help me with my trip. We laughed about the craziness and yet wondered at the potentials of science.

The challenge of communication was made clear when I asked him if he has been writing about his experiences. He backed away, laughing, saying that he is way too young for me.

Bwahahahaha!! 

He thought I was asking him to write to me!!! So, I tried again and, after several attempts, he understood what I was asking. He is not really writing regularly about his own experiences, but may do that later. Really, he is using this adventure to learn new skills. 

I ended up staying at the Country Inn and Suites. It offered several amenities I didn’t have time to enjoy, but I did take advantage of the shower, the tv, the nearby wallyworld, and the coffee in the lobby. Repeatedly, on the last one.

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Friday, July 18th. I cycled county roads to Eldora, IA and on in to the Pine Lake Campground. I tried one small section of Hwy 20 but got off at the next offramp as the traffic was getting heavier, it seemed, the closer it got to the the border of Iowa and Illinois.  The shoulders were still missing or too ribbed to tolerate. It was a hairy few miles that I was happy to put behind me. When I pulled off, I studied my phone and paper maps to find the most likely way to get to Eldora. 

A road weary cyclist, whose cycle was parked under the overpass, saw me and came to chat. This handsome young man was from Switzerland. He had flown to New York and was doing his best to cycle across the country. He planned to make it to Webster City today. He was totally discouraged and was tempted to turn around and head back for home. I empathized with him and his fatigue with the roads and the endless cornfields. A different scenery than Switzerland, no doubt! I told him to travel the back roads and get off the 20. “Your best bet is to find the county roads that parallel the 20. The trucks are lighter there, choosing the fast paced hwy 20 instead. It still means no shoulder. But no shoulder with less traffic is much less stressful!”  I really felt for him as I could see his fatigue.  “Please keep going! It is so beautiful and the roads will improve. You have so much wonder ahead!”

Still, he looked doubtful, although he said that others have said the same. 

Life can suck the stuffing out of you. But if you just hang on, things change. Like the weather. Just stick around. And experience the miracle of a new wonder. 

Like Pine Lake Campground. After miles upon miles of corn and soybeans, bad roads, and rough gravel, one can see a beautiful lake and have respite from your worries. I purchased a Subway salad in the quaint town of Eldora and saved it to eat by the lake. In the quiet. As the day waned. 

The campground was busy as it was Friday night. Children were laughing and cycling around the campground; families were starting their evening fires. I kept to myself, needing time to let my jangled nerves ease. The lake in the waning light provided that peace. 

I can keep going. Like Thomas the Train.

So, on Saturday, July 20th, I cycled to the Waterloo KOA. I stuck to the less traveled county roads, making some alterations as I hit dirt roads and rerouted. The roads through Iowa were not so flat, but blind hill after blind hill. If I saw a vehicle coming up behind me, that meant pulling off into the gravel. I often then had to lift HD’s front tire back on the road because there was often at least a 2 inch drop between pavement and gravel. I hoped that HD’s tires would hold out till Illinois. 

Grundy Center was a great little town---stopped at my Casey’s for caffeine refreshment. Upon hitting the main street again, going through town, a man pulled next to me, rolled down the window, and asked if we could talk a few minutes. So, we pulled over into a residential area and had a chat.

So, meet “Bob”. He is a man about my age who lives between Grundy Center and Dubuque--or some other such big city (Des Moines?). He and his wife go back and forth between cities to maintain their family home in Grundy and their daughters’ home in the city. About 8 years ago, their beloved, athletic daughter was a star athlete in college. Vivacious, courageous, bright, intelligent, with a full, exciting future ahead of her. A motor vehicle accident resulted in a severe brain injury, affecting her entire left side. For months, her life hung by a thread and the doctors didn’t think she would survieve, let alone walk. But years of inner courage and determination, both by this young woman and her very loving and supportive family, have not only given this young woman her breath again, but also a good life. Her left side is no longer fully paralyzed, but her left wrist and ankle are still quite unstable. Bob and his wife still go back and forth to both homes to help in a myriad of ways: shoveling snow, help with some of the heavier work, and provide emotional support. This young lady is now about 28 years old. Bob’s eyes misted and his voice trembled a few times in describing the story of his beloved daughter. He had stopped me to ask about Henry David. Being a recumbent tricycle, he would be perfect for such a person as Bob’s daughter. HD is balanced and it would be quite difficult to tip him over! We talked about gearing, steering, managing hills, etc. 

Henry David’s manufacturer is Lightfoot Cycles, a small shop in Darby, Montana. The owner is Rod Miner. The staff at the shop continue to design their recumbents with great creativity and concern. Rod wants to see everyone on a cycle, no matter the physical challenge. They custom make the cycles and can make them with arm controls if the legs are too weak or even paralyzed. They will discuss your physical challenge in depth with you and design the cycle that will put you on the road. 

This is one of the reasons I really appreciate Mr. Miner and his staff. As a physical therapist, I want people to enjoy their physical life. If you have a disability, handicap, or challenge, or whatever is now the politically correct description of the day, then there is still a way you can expand on what you do have. 

Never say die. 

I hope Bob calls Lightfoot Cycles and finds a way to get his daughter on a bike, cruising the streets with joy and independence. 

So, now it is Sunday, July 21st. I am staying again at the KOA on the south edge of Waterloo so I can upload photos and continue blogging. I will save this particular blog as the single Iowa blog. I have been concentrating so deeply on road safety with eyes on the rearview mirror, that I haven’t been able to fully immerse myself in the flora and fauna as deeply as in some of the other states. Although, yesterday, a deer stood in the middle of the road watching me as I approached. When a vehicle could be heard coming from behind, she finally leapt off the road, clearing the barbed wire fence by the cornfield without a problem. So beautiful and graceful. And hiding in the cornfields. Where do they go when the corn is gone in the winter???

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On Monday, July 22nd, I cycled to Dyersville, IA. I took county roads the entire way. No shoulders on the roads, of course, but very little traffic, so this made the day quite pleasant. I knew tomorrow I would head into Illinois, so this made any hardships seem less difficult. HD and I rolled into Dyersville around 6 pm and I saw The Colonial Inn, a little motel that looked like it had seen better days. The price was perfect, $39.99. After locking HD up to a post halfway under some stairs, and unloading much of the gear and covering the rest with the nylon tarp, I took a walk to get coffee at famous Casey’s General Store, then walked to the FareWay grocery store to pick up some food for dinner.  When I walked out of the grocery store, storm clouds were gathering in a spectacular race, with white cloud fingers on the lower layers and gray billowy clouds above---both cloud formations moving rapidly in different directions, with flashes of light in the sky to the west. By the time I crossed the street to the motel, a very light sprinkling had started. By the time I opened the motel room door, the storm had begun. I spent the next 20 minutes watching the storm rage over Dyersville, from the safety of my motel room door. 

My stepdad, Russ, had warned me that morning about pending rainstorms. Thanks, Dad!

The next morning, I packed up and HD and I headed east on The Heritage Trail. This is a crushed limestone trail lovingly preserved from a former railroad service road. The grade was 0 to 1.7%, except when it crossed the farm roads. This trail is for hikers and bikers and runs 26 miles from Dyersville to the west edge of Dubuque. It is an incredible trail and HD rode it like a champ. You pass cornfields, yes, but much of the time you are in a protected forest glade, cycling in the trees and over bridges. You see some beautiful homes hidden in the glens; Iowa “bluffs”, and occasionally you see some railroad remnants: metal strips, railroad ties, cement foundations for old bridges for the trains. Maintenance crews were out on the road that day, clearing brush, removing railroad parts, looking for any signs of damage to the road. Of course I simply had to stop and talk to a few workers! They mow the area on either side of the road about 4 times during the summer. They spread more crushed limestone and do road work about 3 times a year. They remove brush regularly. After the storm last night, there were 3 crews on the road. I met 2 of the crews but the 3rd must’ve finished before I reached the end of the road in Dubuque. 

This trail was one of the blessed highlights of the trip. Like a sweet whisper to remember the good in Iowa. The rain of the night before had cooled the air. Butterflies and birds were enjoying the sun. The scents filled the air and the flowers were brilliant along the road. 

When I reached Dubuque, I pulled over to figure out how to get through the big city and cross into Illinois. Then into the big city and right down town. The old brick midwestern buildings in the downtown areas absolutely enchant me. The often palatial old clapboard homes 2-3 stories high, with gables and turretts, also leave me spellbound. I would love to drive on a trip just to photograph buildings and bridges.

I think I need to get rich first! LOL! Or maybe just determined...

I stopped downtown at Jitterz Coffee Shop and drank coffee and munched a really moist scone while I gathered courage to go over the bridge on hwy 20. I headed out and found that a walking section, slightly separated from the rest of the bridge by about 18 inches, and fenced on both sides, would give me safe passage across the Mississippi River, IF I didn’t come across another cyclist or a walker. Then, it would be very tricky because the walkway was pretty narrow. 

But, no problems! YAY!  I cycled over the Mississippi River on that bridge, my heart rate slightly elevated but able to breathe much easier now than when I crossed crazy bridges over the severe drops I saw in the first 6-8 weeks in California and Oregon. I can’t say I am no longer “afraid” of heights. My vital signs are definitely calming down. But it is getting easier.

So, my silly Ode to Iowa.

Corn and hills and trucks and corn.

HD and I, emotionally worn.

Wide skies of white and gray and blue

Greens in the fields of every hue. 

Casey’s and coffee drive me onward,

Thru the narrow roads, we cycle forward.

Friendly smiles and dust and grime---

The road extends endlessly through time. 

What goals, what lessons am I to see?

That the range of emotions are all of me,

That laughter and anger have their place,

That life is a journey, not a race.

That this moment, too, shall certainly pass,

That the prize does not go to the swift or the fast,

But the one who sees the Road, at last.