The Start of Something Big Day 2 - Rain Make the River

Marquette, IA to Lake George, MN:  437.3 miles

Some of the hotel reviews mentioned train horns all night, and the trains did not disappoint.  They did seem to stop around the time I couldn't sleep anymore.  Suffice to say, it wasn't the best night of sleep I've ever had.  A few cups of hotel coffee could only do so much, even while I really appreciate a coffee maker in the room.

By a little after 6:00 I was bouncing off the hotel room walls ready to go.  There was rain in the area and I thought that if I left a bit early, I could get ahead of it.  I originally was going to hop over to the Wisconsin side of the river, but stayed on the Iowa side and was glad I did as a beautiful sunrise over the Mississippi River pushed me down the road.  The first hour on the road was absolutely magical.

After that, things did go down hill just a bit.  The rain I was trying to get ahead of got ahead of me.  It started with a light spitting but soon enough it became more than that.  When I left, I had put on my rain pants assuming they were probably not needed.  They were.  Around La Crescent, MN, it turned into a full on thunderstorm.  The rain did let up from there, but I remained wet all the way to Minneapolis.

I hadn't seen my cousin Susan in several years and thought it would be fun to visit if she could since I was going to be going through Minneapolis.  Luckily she could make it work, so after hugging the Mississippi River for two half days, I headed to her house.  I got there early, so we had a chance to visit for a while and I was able to meet her SO.  We went to lunch at a café which overlooks the Mississippi River.  Pork Belly was probably not the best choice before a few more hours on the motorcycle, but it was good.  

I was curious what the big orange balls in the river were for?

It was great getting a chance to see her and catch up.  It is too easy to see cousins as frozen in time when we were kids, but life's twists and turns do happen to all of us.

I was originally planning on heading to the Kensington Runestone Museum, but there just wasn't time since it is only open until 4:00.  Not going was probably the right decision since it was a long day as it was.  This is the second time I did not make it to the museum (reason to try again...).

Back on the bike I headed north.  It should have been a really nice ride, but mentally it was brutal.  It was really windy and temperatures were dropping steadily.  It did take longer than it should have to get to Lake George, but it felt twice as long.

Once at the hotel I got some snacks before eating another noodle bowl for dinner.  After being cold on the bike it was nice to crank the heat in the hotel room to cook myself back into warmth.

The Start of Something Big Day 1 - A Beagle Named Isla

With only one dog, getting out of the house was easy.  But this was not really easy in a good way.  There was actually two dog stories to perseverate over, but I'm trying not to think about the most recent one.

In 2015 I brought home a scared, confused, skinny beagle.  Her life had definitely not been good and she really wasn't even sure how to be dog.  While she always remained a bit wary, she quickly adjusted to life with me.  

She loved going on long walks (as long as it wasn't too hot or too cold).  She was good at letting me know when she had to go outside and was very quick to remind me that she was an indoor dog when she wanted back in.  

When I first got her she was a bit of odd-dog-out since Jackson and Fairbanks were a tight Team Beagle.  When Tibbit joined in 2018, Isla took on the role of matriarch - maybe reluctantly at first.  But team Beagle became Isla and Tibbit in a way I hadn't seen coming and never would have predicted.

I know lots of people bonded with their pets in the mayhem of Covid, but for me it was part of what made 2020 such a great year.  I was still working in an almost empty building on some days and I struggled to figure out how to work from home.  But once I incorporated my dogs into the routine, I found a way that worked.  The dogs loved it too.  Time on the couch, early morning walks before wretched online meetings started.  I guess I'm glad that Isla (and Tibbit) got to live through 2020.

I lost Isla on an absolutely miserable March day to hemangiosarcoma this year.  She had her spleen removed a few weeks previous and had done a remarkable job in recovery.  But just as she started to have some good days again, she soon stopped wanting to eat and started to show signs of internal bleeding.  I took her to the vet hoping for a miracle, but knowing there was likely little that could be done.

I've spent a lot of energy beating myself up over the weeks since I lost Isla.  I'm mad at myself for doing the surgery, knowing that it made her last few weeks more about the difficulty of recovery than anything else.  I also know that given what we knew at the time, surgery was the right decision.  I suppose if there is a silver lining to this it is that recovery required her to be calm and the best way to keep Isla calm was to keep her happy.  She slept in the bed with me for much of this time as she hated being kept restricted in the playpen.  She also had tons of extra attention.

I'm equally mad at myself for not doing more.  Rationally I know that letting her go was 100% the right decision.  But the world - my world - is not a good place without Isla.  When I'm working from home I keep looking over at the couch expecting her to be there; Isla loved the couch as much as any spot in the world. 

This is the first time since 1993(ish) that I've only had one dog and looking at only one dog food bowl is painful.  I don't think dogs grieve like humans, but Tibbit's behavior makes me believe she really notices the difference (even if she likes getting all the walks now).

I keep seeing Isla's cold, small frame as I had to bury her.  I think about her looking at me after her surgery.  I know these painful memories of her last few days will be replaced by the endless good memories of a beagle who's life started out really tough but became an absolutely amazing dog.  She'll get a tree if the tiny paw paw I planted last fall doesn't come back.  I know the pain of losing Isla will subside.  Since that first dog in 1993, I've had to bury eight dogs - I still miss each and every one of them.  But as I left, I just wanted Isla back - that terribly-flawed, wonderful beagle who was one of my few true friends.

"Who wants an afterlife if the immediate pre-afterlife is spent clutching the arms of a wheelchair, head bent back at a forty-five degree angle, eyes and mouth wide open and equally mute, like so many of my charges at the Woodcrest [a nursing home facility where the author works on weekends]? Is the ‘soul’ that lives forever the one we possess at the moment of death, in which case heaven must look something like the Woodcrest, with plenty of CNAs and dietary aides to take care of those who died in a state of mental decomposition? Or is it our personally best soul — say, the one that indwells in us at the height of our cognitive powers and moral aspirations? In which case, it can’t possibly matter whether demented diabetics eat cupcakes or not, because from a purely soteriological standpoint, they’re already dead.”- B Ehrenreich

And so with a bit more angst than anticipation, I headed out on the road.

Home to Marquette, IA:  564.1 miles

After allowing myself one cup of coffee and having ritual waffles, I was out the door right near sunrise, a little after 6:00AM.  Road construction near home meant going down a few of my favorite bicycle roads.  It has been a cold, wet, windy year and there hasn't been enough bicycling yet.

The previous day's rain and much cut grass made the area smell like vegetative decay.  That plus the humid, foggy conditions resulted in an uncomfortable clamminess.  I was still enjoying the ride.

Once on the interstate I headed north and west.  Getting around Indianapolis was relatively easy; the opposite direction was nearly a parking lot.  I-74 had very light traffic even barely outside of the cities.  Perhaps the recent spike in fuel prices are keeping people closer to home. 

The morning remained intensely foggy to the point that it may as well have been raining.  

I jumped off the interstate near Davenport, IA and did my best to hug the Mississippi River the rest of the day.  I continually saw signs for "The Great River Road" so I must have been doing something right.  Despite being called "The Great River Road" - much of the road actually diverts from the river.  And some of the best views are fleeting at best.  But I suppose there are enough good views to call it "The Great River Road."  Unquestionably the Mississippi River is an impressive body of moving water.

And even when away from the road, it was a really nice ride.  My route took me through lots of gentle sweeping turns, big hills.  Springtime in Iowa can only be described as verdant.  Since this was Iowa, there was lots of agriculture as well, but even this was quite pretty.  

Soon enough I made my way into Marquette and found my hotel.  It sits right across the street from the river with a small levee in the way.  I walked around the park for a bit, happy to be off the bike.

I made my way down to a convenience store for some snacks - I hadn't eaten at all through the day and was hungry enough that my purchases were quite stupid.  Actually I'll also blame Doritos for being stupid since Doritos 3D are apparently just bugles with weird seasoning.  I hate to think how much I paid for them...

Dinner back at the hotel was a noodle bowl I brought from home.  It seemed easier than going down to the casino for dinner (I assume they have a restaurant).  Besides, the casino boat looked enough like the Ozark casino boat that I didn't want to get caught in the crossfire.

I ended the day with gas station ice cream - which was a good enough way to end the day.

50/80/50 Trip Day 2 - Sage Advice

 Osceola, IA to Hot Springs, SD:  647.6 miles

I woke up to someone pounding the door to my hotel room.  In that liminal state trying to figure out why, I realized it was some jack-wad lighting fireworks too close to the hotel.  I guess it wasn't that late yet, but I only give a pass for July 4.  It was really annoying.  Eventually I was able to mostly get back to sleep and slept reasonably well, although I had a dream I was in a car where it shouldn't be and the car was being driven by a Korean foreign exchange student.  I didn't want to analyze that then, nor do I now; I was on the road just a little too early for sunglasses.

It was an amazing morning with a beautiful sunrise pushing me down the road.  I headed west for a ways before going north to hit I-80 for a short stretch, allowing me to miss all of Des Moines.  Then it was across the Missouri River into Nebraska.

I spent time rethinking some of my life choices.  Specifically, I was regretting my choice the previous evening to buy a Hy-Vee burger and the choice to eat that burger.  Some things just can't be undone.

I was surprised how much traffic and truck traffic there was in Nebraska.  I know Eastern Nebraska is far different from Western, but there just seemed to be too much of it.

I worked my way west and north.  At some point the Garmin GPS said the next turn was 244 miles.  I figured that had to be a mistake, but it wasn't.  Seeing the 244 miles was a good way to feel demoralized by the distance.  I also ended up being reminded that at some point I'll need to head home as well.

But I plugged away at the miles.  Somewhere around O'Neill, NE the clouds started to look ominous.  At exactly the last second I pulled in to get gas and put on my rain suit.  There was only a little heavy rain, but there was enough to be glad I had put on the rain suit.  The temperature also dropped to the low to mid 70's - which would have been really cold in the vented jacket if it was wet.  Even with the cooler temperatures, the rain suite felt claustrophobic at times.

The Nebraska Sand Hills region has to be one of the hidden gems in the US.  Most people only see the interstate through Nebraska - which is a shame.  

Eventually I made my way into South Dakota.  South Dakota is pretty and the area varies from Sand Hills to Band Lands to Beef Ranches.  In some places, the road seems like it will never end.

Shortly after getting gas in South Dakota, the temperatures rose quickly making the rain suite unbearable.  I stopped at a church parking lot in an Indian Reservation.  As I was taking the suit off, I saw a Native American dude walking toward me out of the corner of my eye.  He had a big bundle of sage and was pretty intent on selling it to me for $10.  I have no idea what Native American sage is worth, but eventually I gave him $5 for a small amount of it - maybe it will help keep me safe on the road?  I'm not sure about that, but it did make everything in the back bag smell like sage...

As I continued on the terrain started to become more Black Hills.  Going into and out of the Reservation, I noted that they had COVID-checkpoints were set up.  I'm not exactly sure what these are for, or what they do, since I was just waved on through.  It certainly was curious.  I also noted that the kid standing at the checkpoint was one of the few people in a mask on this trip. 

Eventually I got into Hot Springs and found my hotel.  I had booked this when I thought it was going to be a trip with SO.  I had hotel-remorse when I saw the price.  I should have gotten a room in non-touristy area as it probably would have been about half the cost.  Oh well - it was a very nice room.

Once I was settled in I decided I was not going to eat crap all night, so I walked down to a grocery store for dinner.  I was very surprised how much was closed in Hot Springs.  I'm not sure if it was due to COVID?  Or something else, but many storefronts were vacant or closed.  I did pass a smoked meat house which would have made me abandon the grocery store for dinner, but he wasn't open either (he was just getting going for the following day).  Hot Springs also has some areas which look like the start of a horror movie.

It was spitting rain when I finished the 1+ mile to the grocery store and this turned into a full-on thunderstorm.  By the time I got back to my hotel I was drenched.  The food was good though.

I finished the day in the hotel room, glad for amazing day on the road.  And who knows, maybe the sage did help keep me safe...

50/80/50 Trip Day 1 - On The Guilty Road

The Plan:  COVID does still dominate ... almost everything.  But with things like vaccines and better guidance, my family made plans to get together at my sister's in Utah.  There have been a couple "big" birthdays during the past 18 months of craziness and another coming up.  SO and my plan was to head west on the motorcycle for a long-overdue real road trip, apexing in Utah before returning home.

The Reality:  About two weeks before leaving the younger dog stopped eating.  After about a day of this I took her to the vet.  Some tests showed something was wrong, but not clearly what.  This set off several rounds of tests/procedures/specialists until immune mediated hemolytic anemia was diagnosed - basically her immune system was attacking her red blood cells.  By Independence Day weekend, she was on several medications and seemed to be feeling at least a little bit better.  But with uncertainty and needed follow-up testing, there was no way she could be kenneled.  Since my family was gathering, we decided I was to head west alone while SO abandoned her vacation.

The weeks before leaving were quite difficult.  I can think back to one of the many trips to the vet, worried about the sad, sick dog and really frustrated about a big issue at work that I could probably solve quickly if I wasn't working from home thinking, "If I had known this was what mid-life was going to be like..." - Thanks but No.

If there is a silver lining (there almost always is), if it weren't for the upcoming trip, we may have waited a bit longer to take her to the vet.  The earlier first visit gave us enough time to get a diagnosis before it turned much more critical.

I decided to take the GL instead of the Triumph to have a bit more room.  Then I changed/rethought/updated/overthought what gear I was going to bring, ultimately deciding to wear my vented mesh jacket and bring extra rain gear.  It seemed almost like cheating to not wear my trusty TourMaster jacket, but it just made more sense for traveling during the hottest part of the year - especially since I was solo.

So right around sunrise I said goodbye and hit the road.

Home to Osceola, IA:  562.3 miles

There was just a hint of fog at home, but it got heavier and patchier in spots as I rode along the familiar two-lane roads by home.  I jumped on the interstate and headed toward Indianapolis.  I guess that the observed Independence Day Holiday had everyone in Indy at home since I think this was the easiest I have ever had getting around that city.  I'll take it.

As the morning continued however, the interstate got much busier.  It wasn't terrible, but there was considerably more traffic then when I went to Minnesota a few weeks ago.  I must not have a very good imagination because I took nearly the same route I did then as well.  

I got off the interstate near Peoria, IL and it was none too soon since I was tired of it.  At first this felt like a mistake, but within a few miles traffic disappeared to almost nothing.  Rural Illinois may not have mountains, but it is pretty in its own way.  It also felt like home.

Once into Western Illinois, I saw evidence of the recent flooding and severe wind.  I saw one farmer tilling in his ruined corn - likely to replant.  At another farm I saw a huge silo sitting askew on top of a barn.  Neither of these are good situations.

I settled into the ride pretty well, but it was unsettled at the same time.  There was an overwhelming aura of guilt in this trip since it was supposed to be an adventure for both SO and I, and she was home with the dogs.  It was the right decision to make, but some things are not easy.

I crossed the Mississippi River again at Burlington and stopped for the obligatory picture.  I'm not really sure why, but I was making good time and wasn't in a hurry.

Then it was the long stretch across Iowa.  Iowa was nearly devoid of traffic.  Southern Iowa is really pretty with maybe just a hint of the Ozarks.  On a number of the hill crests, I looked over the windshield at a verdant valley and thought, "Wow, that is pretty."  

But it was also hot.  Temperatures fluctuated around 90F for most of the afternoon.  When I crossed over into Iowa, I was wishing I had picked a city farther along.  As the last few hours went on, I was looking forward to getting out of the heat and humidity.  I was thinking that the decision to wear the mesh jacket was the right one.

I stopped a half hour outside of Osceola to grab a beverage and ended up talking to a guy waiting for his wife for a while.  He was a former Harley rider and missed his riding days.

Soon enough I was in Osceola.  I got gas and went to my hotel - a locally owned operation.  No one was there, so I called the number and they checked me in remotely.  My "key" was a code on the keypad for the lock.  Often these smaller hotels still have cut keys, so this was a new one for me.  I liked it.  The room itself was super clean even if a bit old.  I do love the personalities of these types of local hotels.

Snacks and a very questionable dinner from the Hy-Vee Market ended the day.  What was less questionable with the Til the Cows Come Home Dough-Mo Arigato Mr. Roboto Ice Cream - nearly as good as Ben and Jerry's but much cheaper.  Calorically it may still have been unwise.

Back at home all still seemed to be going well with the dog.  I'm hoping this continues so I feel less guilty and am able to enjoy the time as the adventure progresses.

Visiting My Ancestors Day 3 - Not Ancestors

Luverne, MN to Madison, WI:  390.3 miles

I woke up with a splitting headache - unsure what to do.  Part of me wanted to hit the road, part of me wanted to try to sleep.  Getting up won and I felt a little better after a getting ready.  Rather than try to medicate with caffeine, I decided to hit the road.  Radar showed rain to the east, so I played it safe and just went ahead and put on my rain pants.

I rode the short distance south to I-90 and jumped on the interstate.  It felt like TC Boyle's story After the Plague.  Rarely have I seen an interstate with so few vehicles as this Sunday morning.  I set cruise control and let my mind wander.  And wander it did.  Some of it was big helmet thoughts, much wasn't.  I found myself reliving awkward moments, blunders and mistakes - this was not healthy and I'm not sure where it came from.

My headache ebbed and rose through the day, but I was almost normal by the time I got off the interstate.  I much preferred the 2-lane roads, although it was also a bit painful at times due to big evil camping trailers and slow Sunday drivers.

Rain started around Blue Earth and continued heavily until after Albert Lea.  Then it spit rain on and off for most of the rest of the day.  I was headed to my younger sister's house.  Pre-COVID this wouldn't have been very momentous.  Post-COVID, it did seem like a stage of "back to normal."

I stopped to get fuel right as I got near her house and got some soda at the same time.  A dude walked in jabbering on to no one in particular and saw me standing there in my motorcycle coat and rain pants, "You are WAY overdressed."  

I nodded at him, "Motorcycle."

"Gotcha," he says.

"But I do agree."

I saw him as I was leaving the parking lot and he laughed and gave me a thumbs up.  The world is filled with people who are interesting if we let them be.

I got to my sister's and met her new SO.  We talked for quite a while before heading out to walk the dogs.  We went on part of the Ice Age Trail which was really nice.  At times it did feel like we were in people's back yards or traipsing past the weekend soccer games.  Still, some of the views were surprising so close to Madison.

We had dinner and watched a little TV - I made the mistake of showing my sister David Lynch's What Did Jack Do?  Hopefully she doesn't think too much less of me.

I wasn't too upset when everyone turned in early.  I'm ready for one more day on the road.

Visiting My Ancestors Day 2 - The Visits

Nevada, IA to Luverne, MN:  331.7 miles

Still mostly on Ohio time, I was up too early.  Lynne had left a book of photos including several of our grandparents which I had never seen - or just didn't remember.  Between looking at those and poking around online, the time was not wasted.

We talked a bit more over breakfast; it was great to see Lynne and Dan and they were most gracious to have me over when I know they are really busy.  It was also time to hit the road again.

The morning temperatures were really nice in the 70's and mostly cloudy.  It would have been a nice day to poke along on 2-land roads, but the interstate made more sense.  I headed north toward Minnesota.  Traffic was negligible and with the wind at my back my mileage was fantastic.

My first stop was at my Dad's cousin's house.  I had never met her before, but Sylvia is also somewhat of the family historian.  I found the house easily enough, but I had neglected to call when leaving in the morning - so much for making a good first impression.

Sylvia and Larry where really fun people.  We talked about all the myriad of family members as well as the idiosyncrasies that are who we are.  It was interesting how some of the mannerisms crossed generational boundaries.  We probably could have talked for longer than the two hours I was there, but it was time to move on to head west to where my Dad's family originated in the US.

Heading west on I-90, I stopped at the rest area near Blue Earth.  This was located near where the east and west crews building the interstate met, completing the longest interstate in the country.  

Once near SW Minnesota, I got off the interstate and worked my way toward the first farm.  This was the farm my Great-Grandparents rented lived on between 1904-1909.  The last mile was on a scary loose gravel road which wasn't so great on a fairly heavy bike.  

The farm bears little resemblance of what it looked like back then with many large barns and I think even some hog barns.  But I could imagine my Great-Grandparents mix of nervousness and excitement at starting completely over in a foreign country.

As I was entering in the GPS coordinate for the farm they bought, a man in a side-by-side stopped by to ask if I needed help.  The friendliness of the Midwest did not disappoint.

The drive to the farm took me through the town that used to have the railroad.  The railroad is gone, but I can recall the description of my Great-Grandmother's reaction to seeing Minnesota in April.  Cold, wet and no leaves.

Once again the road to the farm was a loose gravel road, this time with a fairly significant hill.  Thankfully the Trophy handled it well.

I spent a bit of time looking around and taking some pictures before I saw someone on the 5-Acre property that my Dad's cousin had sold off.  I stopped to ask him just to be sure I was at the right farm.  He was a bit of a talker, with a West Virginian drawl that was hard to understand.  He was very friendly, almost too friendly - offering me some stuff he had dug up on the property that he thought may have been my ancestors.  Most of it was junk.  But he did also show me some concrete impressions which I bet were from my second cousins.

The farm land itself was quite pretty.  Rolling hills with a creek at the north end.  Previously it was used for cattle and hogs, but now it was mostly row crops.  Compared to the first rental farm, I could imagine how it must have felt, especially for my Great-Grandfather, to have succeeded in becoming a landowner in just a few years after making the leap to North America.  I didn't expect lightning bolts to shoot out of the ground when I walked on the farm - and they didn't - but being there did make the history more real.

When I had seen the wind turbines on Google Earth before starting the trip, I originally thought it was almost vulgar.  But after being there in person, I changed my mind.  Not only are windmills somewhat iconic Dutch (granted not electric generating turbines but...), but my Great-Grandparents were doing everything they could to make it work - always trying to end the year with more money than they started, so the wind turbines are in a real way just an continuation of that.  And I was glad the my Dad's cousin was deeding the property to his sons so it will stay in the family for at least another generation.

However, standing under the wind turbine was a little intimidating.

I left the farm with a final stop for the afternoon to see the graves of my Great-Grandparents.  I'm not really a stop by the grave kind of person, but it seemed like the right way to end the afternoon.  I found the cemetery easily enough, but it was much bigger than I expected.  I started wandering around looking for the headstone when I saw the groundskeeper mowing.  I started to talk to him before being interrupted by a woman also looking for a few particular graves.  She had a legendary level of talkedness.  The groundskeeper pointed to where the map showing the grave location was and as I left to head that way I found my last name.  

Then things got somewhere between eerie and weird.  There was a raven right by the headstone - probably dying, but who knows.  One can draw all kind of inferences with this kind of thing.  It never moved the whole time I was there.  I left it be, but I'm still pondering the significance (or not) of this.

I drove down to Luverne for the night, getting a hotel with a very similar name to the farm.  After checking in, I called Vern - another of my Dad's cousins.  He stopped by and offered to take me to the farm, but when I told him I had already been there, we headed to dinner instead.  He and his wife Ruth were lots of fun to talk to.  He had lived most of his life outside of the military in the area.  They have children who are nearly my age as well.  After dinner, he took me to another farm that was, and still is, in the extended family.  By this point I was nursing a headache and headed back to the hotel for the night.

It was quite a memorable day.  Meeting my Dad's cousins and hearing a lot about relatives and ancestors.  I learned a lot - and have a lot to think about that debt I owe to my ancestors.

Visiting My Ancestors Day 1 - Wrestling with Angels

In 1904 my Great-Grandparents on my Dad's side of the family made one of those great social and geographical leaps.  My Great-Grandfather came from a poor laborer family in a society with little chance of any social mobility.  Against the protests of his soon-to-be father-in-law, who disapproved of the marriage into a more prominent land-owning family, my Great-Grandparents set off to a new life in the United States.  The begrudging push from the maternal family was to go to South Africa - seen as a better opportunity and with family already there.  Maybe stubbornness and resistance to authority is genetic.

The immediate relevance to this story goes back to 2017 when I took one of the commercial DNA tests.  I was a bit terrified to see that it was able to match bits and pieces of my DNA to thousands of other "relatives" - most of these are very minor, and on the order of parlor tricks.  Back of the envelope calculations suggest 50,000 5th cousins would not be unlikely, so maybe the number of matches isn't too surprising.  But it did start a brief conversation with my siblings on a book that my Great-Uncle wrote on our Great-Grandparents' lives and immigration to the US.  Amazingly, this book was available used on Amazon (because of course it was...).  The story was interesting and documentation was deep.  I was able to use the very 21st century technology of Google Earth to easily find the land where my Great-Grandparents first lived.  "I have to go there."

While my DNA data show my history goes well beyond this family uprooting, it is also clear that this is a pivotal part of my history.

Through my uncle, I was able to find a cousin of my Dad's who grew up in the area.  He was a wealth of helpful information, and his brother still lives in the area.

So with full vaccination coursing through my veins and lots of vacation time that must be used in 2021, it was imperative that I head out on a real road trip.  My older dog must have been anxious for me to leave since she started barking even earlier than I usually get up for work.  Or maybe she just really wanted water.  This extra time in the morning allowed me to have a cup of coffee and some waffles before heading west.

Home to Nevada, IA:  587.3 miles

As I left, the air was thick with the smell of onion grass.  It smelled like spring.  It was just getting light as I turned out of the driveway, going down familiar 2-lane roads.  Once I got moving I could smell the fresh-cut hay and tree flowers.  It smelled like summer; it felt like summer.  I was excited to be on the road.

Getting around Indianapolis wasn't too heinous.  It wasn't too fun either.  But leaving early did make it much easier since I missed most of the rush hour traffic.  

I found myself thinking about work just a little bit and allowed this briefly, thankful that I was able to leave work without anything really big lurking.  

Then my thoughts turned to big helmet thoughts.  Really big helmet thoughts.  I thought about my great-grandparents leaving Europe to basically start over.  It must have been equally exciting and terrifying.  I wondered what would have happened to me if they hadn't.  Would I be someone else?  Someone totally different?  Would I just not be?  Or is there some crazy cosmic force in the universe that means that even if they hadn't gone to SW Minnesota, somehow I would still be me?  I sometimes have some anti-natalist thinking - it seems unethical to bring someone into this world without their consent.  But since I do exist (at least I think I do), it seems like I do owe a debt to my ancestors.

Mostly I was just thrilled to be on the road.  Around Peoria, IL I was sick of the interstate and got off, working my way west on smaller roads.  They were nearly without any other traffic making it wonderful.  It did spit a bit of rain, but not enough to even worry a little bit about.  I crossed the Mississippi River at Burlington and stopped to take a few pictures.  I'm not sure that the Triumph has ever been across the Mississippi River before.  A cop slowed behind me as I was standing by the river.  I assumed he was going to ask me to park in a more appropriate location, but he just smiled and waved.  My guess is I'm not the first person to do this.

Once into Iowa I worked my way north and west.  I hit enough rain to stop and put on my rain pants at a gas station after talking with the attendant for a few minutes.  I love traveling through the Midwest since so many people are friendly, and in an honest way.

The rain didn't last long and my rain pants started to get really hot.  I stopped briefly in the town where I lived until I was about a one-year-old.  I don't remember living there, but any time I'm near it seems like I need to stop.

As I got near Nevada a very tiny rain cell blew up right overhead.  I had previously scoped out where the library was in case I got to Nevada too early and stopped at it.  I was pretty wet by the time I got inside, but it wasn't as bad as it could have been since a short lived deluge soaked the area.

After a bit of time in the library stealing their wifi and waiting out the rain, I drove the final few miles to my cousin Lynne's house.  They had recently bought a farm and were deep in renovations.  But the house was far enough along to both be really neat and see where it was going.  It was also still easy to see that it was a lot of work.

Lynne got there shortly after I did and we headed out to Cole's for a true Iowa tenderloin.  Both the tenderloin and the shake were quite good.

Back at the house we caught up a bit while going over some family history and older family photos.  I was excited to head up to where our Great-Grandparents first lived and the pictures and stories helped whet my appetite.

2017 Eclipse Day 6 - Alvin Straight Day

Pocahontas, Iowa to Cambridge, Wisconsin:  381.6 Miles

In July, 1994 Alvin Straight set off from his home in Laurens, Iowa to see his brother, Henry, after Henry had a stroke.  Unable to drive due to poor vision and mobility, and far too independent to get a ride, Alvin set off on his lawn mower for the 250 mile trip to Blue River, Wisconsin.  The lawn mower broke down, so Alvin returned to Laurens and set out on a John Deer mower that was in slightly better shape and made the trip successfully.
In 1999 David Lynch immortalized Alvin Straight and the motorcycle journey in the movie The Straight Story.  I really liked the movie and thought it had several good lines:
"What is the worst part about getting old?"
"Remembering what it was like to be young."

David Lynch took some liberties with the actual events which is fine for a "based on real life" film.  The movie itself seems very non-Lynch-like in that it bears little resemblance to things like Twin Peaks or Mulholland Drive.
I thought it would be fun to recreate, as best I could, Alvin Straight's journey on my motorcycle and I was headed in a direction on this trip which would make it a good opportunity.

We left under a cool 50F on another early morning.  Backtracking a few miles, we went to Laurens, Iowa where Alvin Straight lived.  The sunrise on the way there was nothing short of stunning over the Iowa agricultural fields.

Laurens seemed like a nice enough town.  I had thought about staying there, but the options were limited and the Pocahontas Inn and Suites was an absolute A+ so I'm really glad that was the hotel of choice.

From Laurens, we followed Alvin Straight's route as best I could - I tried gleaning information, and took what I could find online.  I'm sure there are misses and maybe a lot of them.  But I did what I could and it did get us on to some new roads.
One of the few stops we made on the route was at the Grotto of the Redemption in West Bend, Iowa.  This is shown briefly in the movie, but it deserved a closer look.  It is absolutely stunning.  More info on it can be found here, but seeing this in the middle of rural Iowa was shocking.

The view from above is even more amazing.

The detail is exquisite; I really liked the serpent.

We didn't get a chance to go into the museum or gift shop (unlikely to buy anything anyway with such limited room) as we arrived and left before they were open.  So we continued on Alvin Straight's route.

Iowa is mostly agricultural in the Eastern part of the state, but there are some very pretty parts with good riding, especially near the Mississippi River.

We crossed the river at Marquette.  I don't think I've ever crossed it this far north before.  It was much broader than I anticipated, possibly because it is right near where the Wisconsin River empties into the Mississippi.

Once across the river, we followed the Wisconsin River for quite some time.  Following the twists and turns of the river.  It was a beautiful early afternoon.

Soon enough, we came to Blue River, Wisconsin, where Henry Straight lived - ending our Alvin Straight journey.

Along the journey I had time to think about Alvin's trip.  Laurens to Blue River is about 240 miles.  At five miles per hour, that means the travel time was 48 hours (we did it in about 4 on the Gold Wing).  If Alvin only drove 6 hours a day, that means the actual travel time was only 8 days.  I know he did stop for repairs and to visit family en route, but those stops were the bulk of the "six weeks" it took on the lawn mower.
Perhaps it is best not to overthink these things - it is still a good story.

Continuing on, we stopped for lunch at a deli in Muscoda.  It was the perfect road food joint - the kind of restaurant that is only open for breakfast and lunch.  The burgers were fantastic.

Back on the road we made our way towards Madison.  For a capital city, Madison really sneaks up.  It isn't too bad a city to get around and we made our way to Cambridge to see my sister.

Once at my sister's, we talked for a while before heading out to Azatlan Park.  The park was neat, but it always feels a little disingenuous that the Indian Mounds were excavated and then rebuilt.  Still, they were neat to see - much bigger than the mounds at home.

After a great dinner at a restaurant on the Crawfish River, we headed back to the house for a few episodes of the TV show Fargo before calling it a night.

2017 Eclipse Day 5

Alliance, Nebraska to Pocahontas, Iowa:  521.9 Miles

Morning was cold.  It was one of those oddly cool August mornings that tells us summer will eventually come to an end.  It didn't help that we left before sunrise, but the mid-40's was cold.

We worked our way out of Alliance and headed north past Carhenge.  There were still a few campers left there, but only a few.  The mayhem of the eclipse-day had almost completely subsided.

We continued north through the gorgeous Nebraska countryside.  Not too far out of the city, the sunrise peaked up over agricultural land.  It was nothing short of stunning.

A short time later, we crossed a low spot in the terrain.  A mule deer doe jumped out from some brushy trees and across the road directly in front of the Gold Wing at speed.  It was a situation of grab-all-the-brake-the-bike-had and hope that the deer doesn't do anything stupid.  Thankfully, the situation turned out well.  I do suppose that both Mrs. Mule Deer and myself were a bit on edge after the close encounter.

Once we hit US-20, we headed east.  I really see US-20 in Nebraska, especially the western part, as one of the hidden gems in the United States.  It sees little traffic, the road is largely in good shape and the scenery is beautiful.  It is agricultural in places, and in others it looks like either the Sand Hills or the Badlands, or a combination of the two.  Anybody who says Nebraska is boring to drive through should get punched in the mouth - then they should get off of I-80 and really see a bit of the country.
But golly that sun is bright.

Continuing east, I was enjoying the ride, but felt like we were not getting anywhere.  And with the bright sun early in the day, I really think another eclipse was needed.  All those warnings about not looking at the sun during and eclipse don't work so good when driving right into it.

A little after noon, we started looking for a place for lunch.  The towns we went through didn't have much, and Subway didn't sound too appealing.  Now in Eastern Nebraska, the roads roughened up a bit which was making me mad.  What I realized was that I was getting crabby due to a lack of food.  I decided the next town would have to be a food stop, even if it was peanuts at a gas station.
The gas station in Jackson had a small food service inside.  I have to say that the food was much better than it had a right to be; the lady helping us was extremely friendly as well; I love the Midwest...

Filled up with food, we continued east, crossing the Missouri River into Iowa.  We have previously stayed in Pocahontas, Arkansas in 2009; Pocahontas, Illinois in 2014.  We decided to stay in Pocahontas, Iowa.
I was a bit leery after the Norfolk Hotel, but the Pocahontas Inn and Suites was a 5-star lodging establishment in comparison.  Friendly staff, really nice rooms, motorcycle-friendly concrete parking area, etc.

Dinner was at a small restaurant attached to a bar just a short walk away.  It was a little weird that everyone looked at us when we walked in until I noticed I was doing the same thing after sitting down - I think it was just the difference in light between the very bright outside and dark inside.
Dinner was decidedly between good and mediocre.  SO's tenderloin sandwich was good.  My steak was supposed to be a rib eye, but it had all the hallmarks of a strip steak.  It doesn't even compare to the steaks from the previous night.

The night ended with some new Caramel M&M's, readying me for another day of adventure.

2017 Eclipse Day 2

Keokuk, Iowa to Norfolk, Nebraska:  434.6 Miles

I was awake way to early, but managed a little more sleep before getting up and having some hotel waffles.  The Keokuk motel waffle maker made four little ones which I had never seen before.  Most of the rest of the hotel was still sleeping, so I happily had the breakfast area to myself for 8 mini waffles saturated in syrup.

Once filled up, we hit the road again right at sunrise.  Early mornings on vacation are the best.  There is nothing like getting pushed down the road on a motorcycle by a sunrise.

The air was dense and cool in the mid-60's with roads that were all but empty.  It was wonderful.

There was one fairly unfriendly construction area, but thankfully there was no one else there except the flag dude.  That wet asphalt kicks up a lot of noise bits into the fenders.

Since I live in Southwest Ohio, I have known about a city called Cincinnati there.  There is one in Iowa too that is much more important.  Being so close, it only made sense to stop at the Iowa version.

After that diversion, the adventure continued north and west.  Traffic was extremely light for nearly the entire morning.  The area we were going through consists of the foothills of the Ozarks and the beginnings of the Loess Hills.  Anybody who thinks Iowa is boring has never taken the time to look.  It was absolutely stunning scenery to roll through.

I headed north on the interstate for a few miles going into Council Bluffs, Iowa.  In 2015, we went to the Rotary Jail in Crawfordsville, Indiana.  There is a similar jail in Council Bluffs that is a larger three-story unit.  However, it no longer rotates (the Crawfordsville jail still does rotate).
Council Bluffs is much larger than I anticipated, and it was a bit hairy to get around.  But the GPS did a good job of routing us to the historic jail.  Since it was Saturday, there was gobs of parking, but much of it was marked for official use only, even though nobody was working the weekend.  Eventually I just parked on a street and sent SO in for some change for the meter - who carries change anymore?  We were told that meters aren't enforced on Saturday so we could just park anywhere.  It would have been nice to know that earlier.  And to the guy in the Audi wagon - you are kind of an asshole.

The Council Bluffs Squirrel Cage Jail sits in a very neat historic Victorian building.

The staff at the jail was extremely friendly.  Entrance was a nominal $7 and well worth the cost.  The jail itself was neat to tour through.  Since the jail no longer rotates, the cells in the "outside" of the upper levels are no longer usable.  Seems some scaffolding would have been put up to make use of all the cells.

There are also many interesting exhibits in the jail.  Yes, that is an actual noose used in an execution, although it wasn't done at that jail.  Unlike the Rotary Jail in Crawfordsville, no one was ever executed in Council Bluffs.

The top floor holds the "apartment" for the jailer and his wife.  There is something about these old Victorian buildings, even if they aren't in the best of shape.

The top of the center of the actual jail can be seen.  Below these grates is where the, ahem, waste goes.  This is adjacent to the apartment, so it could be unpleasant for the occupants.  At some point the venting of this was changed to a cupola to alleviate some of the stank.

Happy that I've never been in jail outside of a tour, we walked a few blocks down to Ellie's Deli for sandwiches.  They were good, but it was also quite odd since there was a "Zombie Walk" at the same time.  This seems fine for kids or college students - I found the number of adults walking around painted like the undead a bit weird.  Maybe that is just me.

With the zombies out in force, it was time to head out again.  We worked our way north and west again.  Traffic definitely picked up in the afternoon and I couldn't help but wonder if any of it was due to the eclipse?
I had purchased a sun shade for my Garmin Zumo 660 from a German company.  In auto-translated English, the ad for it said it was impossible for it to come off.  But between the wind in Northern Nebraska and me lightly hitting it, the shade came off for the second time somewhere on US-275 (the first was in Council Bluffs).  Thankfully I turned around and was able to find it again.  At the next gas stop, a very nice cashier gave me a couple rubber bands which will make it flying away more difficult in the future ... hopefully.

Once into Norfolk, we found our hotel.  It is definitely an older place, and I would have much preferred to have been able to have an outside room, but such is life.

Dinner that night was a steak just down the road.  I really wanted the rib eye, but couldn't stomach the price.  The "branding iron steak" was pretty good though.
The evening finished off with a f'real shake - good, but it was no cookie dough ice cream.
Above all else, it was a fantastic day on the bike with some great sights to take in at the same time.

The eclipse is getting closer; weather forecasts are still all over the place.  I hope they converge in a good direction.