50/80/50 Trip Day 4 - But Butte...

 In and around Butte, MT:  139.2 miles

Since I went to bed early, I woke up crazy early.  I scrolled through what I had planned for the day which gave me minor panic attacks about what was and wasn't open.  Getting good information can be hard when there is so much of it - and so much of it is conflicting.  It will be a day to go with the flow.

Eventually coffee called, and it was much, much better than the previous day's.  It was a little nice having forced down time as I waited for the world to wake up.  By around 8:00 I was bouncing off the walls and ready to be out the door.

I drove into Butte and went first to the Berkeley Pit Mine viewing area.  Apparently none of the opening times I had seen were right - 10:00AM.  I tried to look from the fence at the top of the hill but I could only just barely see anything.  

So I headed to the World Museum of Mining.  I had purchased tickets online for both SO and I, and they were quite clear that there were no refunds.  I wasn't going to sweat it.  But after getting my ticket, another couple came in and wanted to tour, but could only get one ticket - Light Bulb!  With a willing buyer right there, the nice lady at the counter offered to refund my money and sell them the ticket.  Win - Win - Win for all involved.  It was a good day.

The Orphan Girl mine began operation somewhere around 1875.  It produced enough silver, lead and zinc to remain active until the 1950s.  Smaller amounts of other metals were also produced.  During this time, ownership shares changed hands many, many times as it was never the most profitable mine.  Some two decades after closing, it became the World of Mining Museum.

I had some time to walk around before the actual underground tour.  In addition to being a great place to get a serious tetanus infection, it was also really neat to walk around.  I didn't read most of the exhibits, but I am fascinated by all the oversized machinery.

The mine engine was amazing.  I think I need one for home (wait, my house is only one story).

I was able to go up the mining headframe where the view was spectacular.  I-90 is just visible off in the distance.

I've seen video's of these screw snow machines, but this is the first one I've seen in person.  I need one of these too (wait, we don't get much snow at home).

Soon enough it was time for the guided underground tour.  We walked to a number of exhibits while the tour guide gave additional information.  He was really good and had a family connection to the mining industry.  Then, it was finally time to go down to the 100-foot level.  I've seen this movie, and it doesn't end well...

We all had helmets with headlamps.  Towards the end of the tour the guide had us turn them off and used a candle to give an idea what it was like in the early days of mining.  I'm glad I live in a time with batteries and LED headlamps.

We got down to the level above the water.  The water looked ominous and was gurgling.  

The museum probably would have been worth it without the underground tour, but the underground tour was definitely worth the price of admission.

Then it was back the the Berkeley Pit Mine.  Thankfully, it was actually open.  I forked over $3 and headed to the viewing stand.

What is there isn't that interesting in and of itself.  It looks like a big green man-made lake - almost like a gravel pit back at home.  But the story makes the reality so much more interesting.

This mine displaced the entire communities of Meaderville and McQueen.  Populated city areas have lots of champions when eminent domain is used, but the narrative gets confused in rural towns.  Just ask Centralia, Pennsylvania - although that situation is very different.

Copper has already been critical for decades.  And in an envisioned future with electric everything, it will continue to be.  There is a down side and I'm looking at a potential version of it.

The Berkeley mine started in 1955.  Over its life just under 300 million tons of copper ore came out.  Fortunes were made.  The copper wiring in my house may have started here.  It ceased operation in the early 1980's.  Without pumps to keep it dry (The Anaconda Mining Company turned them off once the mine shut down since they are not cheap to run), the pit slowly filled with water.  The water has a pH of about 2.5, similar to cranberry juice.  Sounds nice right?  But it is acidic due to the metals and sulfurous compounds that remain and those metals have turned it into a superfund site.  An absolutely gorgeous green superfund site.

As easy as it is to point fingers at the Berkeley Pit as mistakes of the past.  We should also look to the future and ask where all the metals in our electrified future will come from.  Where all the metals needed to keep my phone working come from.  I'm not suggesting we don't move in that direction.  But a level of caution is warranted.  Rarely does society solve one problem without creating an equally vexing one somewhere else.  The next Berkeley Pit may not be in Butte or Osceola, Iowa.  It may be in Angola or Jiangxi, China - that would not make it any less tragic.

It was interesting to note that the toxic green lake does allow some life in the form of algae that (probably) feed off of iron in the water, as well as water boatman bugs that seem to live just fine there thank-you-very-much.  Occasionally birds will land in the water with dire consequences - this is actively discouraged by various means.  I also thought the explosions in the nearby active mine added a bit of ambiance to the Berkeley Pit.

Then it was on to Deer Lodge to the Old Montana Prison Museum.  The Old Montana Prison was built in the late 1860s.  I wonder if it was called the New Montana Prison then?  I'm not sure this qualifies as cruel and unusual punishment, but it was built by prison labor which does seem a little too close to "digging one's own grave."  While prisons from this time period are probably universally unpleasant, it was known for problems of overcrowding and being outdated even shortly after opening.  Things culminated in a 1959 prison riot; although it does not seem that this improved the situation much.  When will the rioters learn that riots don't really seem to accomplish what they hoped for?  The prison stayed in operation until 1979 where it soon after opened to the public.

The grounds are both a car museum and the prison, because why not?  There was also a doll exhibit - too creepy for me...

The prison tour is self guided from a book.  It was originally hard to follow and even once I  (mostly) understood it, where to go wasn't always very clear.  But I mostly followed the script.  Having toured prisons in Mansfield, OH, Jefferson City, MO and Rawlins, WY, I didn't see much new.  Parts of it were falling down and there was little I would call "restored" - so there was a lot of nanny state and questions unanswered.  I still enjoyed it though.

Maybe it is just since they are always terrifying places in popular culture, but cell blocks always look imposing.

I couldn't help but wonder if the cells actually had these cupboards.  I would think anything that closed would be ripe for hiding contraband.

What the???

Well, at least there is a tiny bit of privacy?

The car part of the museum acts as a timeline starting in the 19-teens and progresses to the newest cars - I like this much better then trying to categorize cars like some museums do.  I did skim the early parts since it was almost all American and it only interested me a little bit.  A few highlights later in the timeline include:

A Plymouth Superbird - very possibly the ugliest factory modification ever.

A Ford Mustang Mach 1.  I've always wanted one of these and in the 1980's these were not particularly desirable.  However now they command absolutely stupid prices.

A BMW Isetta.  These always remind me of the Messerschmitt KR200 from the Movie Brazil.

This car was supposed to be from the Mad Max franchise, but the plaque left a big question mark on the provenance.

A Citicar.  Someone should tell Elon Musk that his Cybertruck is just a much uglier version of this!

Near and dear to my heart.

A Nash Metropolitan - I've only seen these a few times.

A Porsche 356.  What is most interesting about this car is that it still resides in the family that bought it new.

I was ready to head "home" but was also a bit hungry.  I didn't feel like driving anywhere so I decided if I found a place within walking distance, I'd grab a bite before heading back south.  Ice cream was all I could see.  Bummer...

I sort of wanted to go to the Ringing Rocks on my way back, but really didn't feel like dealing with gravel roads and even small hikes in motorcycle clothes in the hot afternoon.  

It was a fascinating day in and around Butte.  It felt weird without SO, but I got a report back from the vet while I was in prison that the dog is doing much better.  A good day all around.

50/80/50 Trip Day 3 - Settling In

 Hot Springs, SD to Whitehall, MT:  602.7 miles

I woke up reasonably well rested and started to get ready to head out.  The hotel refrigerator was overenthusiastic and froze my apple and Rainier cherries - making them both subpar at best.  This was followed by a cup of the absolute worst hotel coffee I have ever had.  I'm not sure if that was due to the coffee, the maker or the water.  Probably all three.  I didn't let it get me down and was once again out the door before it was probably light enough to wear sunglasses.  It was also cold enough that I wore a thermal liner under my jacket.  I wasn't sure this was needed at first, but it definitely was as temperatures got down below 50F for a while.

The upside of getting up so early is that I had the entire Black Hills all to myself.

No trundling motorhomes.  No cars.  No other motorcycles.  No minivans filled with screaming kids.  No trucks.  Just me.  It was a magical morning for sure.

I did have somewhere to be.  So once through the Black Hills, I jumped on I-90 where I remained for most of the rest of the day.  Still, I-90 is quite scenic as far as interstates go and it is sparsely travelled outside the bigger city areas.  I poked along at a speed that I was happy with.  Lots of people roared past me, but the fatigue from running all-out outweighed speed when I wasn't on a time table.

I got to see several animals throughout the day, starting with buffalo right near the road in the Black Hills (again, no moose jam trying to get pictures of them).  Once into Wyoming I saw a few pronghorn, including a very impressive buck right near the road.  An hour or two later I was thinking that it would be bad if a deer jumped out in front of me when I was fooling with the camera.  Not two miles later there were a couple mule deer does right on the side of the road.  Lesson learned (probably not).

Temperatures were marvelous throughout most of the time on the interstate, ranging from the 50's into the 80's.  It didn't get real hot until the last couple hours when, somehow, the interstate routed around a very significant thunderstorm.  I got gas to check the radar to see if rain gear was needed.  I was stupid and didn't wear it - which also ended up being the right decision since I had maybe 12 drops of rain total.

While I have heard some people call it monotonous, I love driving through Wyoming and Montana.  It is definitely pretty, but I noticed how much the energy sector dominates as from the interstate, it was hard to see any view that didn't have some kind of energy infrastructure in it.  Having hunted in Wyoming a few times, I also know that away from the busy areas, this changes quickly.  And before we say coal is dead, the amount of coal in the train cars does not seem different from when I was through here the first time so many years ago.

I got to the AirBNB midafternoon.  It was an underground house which was kind of neat.  The house itself was absolutely fantastic.  It was far bigger than one person needed, and I once again felt some pangs of guilt about SO being home.  The dog continues to do well though.

At first glance it is just a nice western home.  The owner had a fact sheet about the house and it was made by her father with energy efficiency in mind.

At the side of the house, it being mostly underground can be seen.

Inside is absolutely wonderful as well.

I made myself at home pretty quickly...

I partially unpacked and headed to the grocery store since there was a storm headed toward the area.  I bought a bunch of food and was getting ready to leave when the tornado sirens sounded.  My first thought was not, "I need to seek shelter."  but, "I need to get back to the house."  The wind was bonkers, but somehow the rain missed the area other than a very brief shower.  I'll take it.

As the evening wound down, I planned for the next day.  It will be nice to have a day to see some things instead of riding all day.  The AirBNB house sits in a rural area and the silence was deafening - in a good way after noisy hotel rooms and riding a motorcycle for three days straight.

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 4 - Home

 Madison, WI to Home:  454.0 miles

I woke up to a cat leering at me - which is not unexpected at my sisters.  But it was almost ominous.

Once I got over the cat I started the coffee maker and poked around online.  The weather looked good for the trip home, which was a nice change from the previous day.

My sister and I talked for a bit while having our morning coffee before it was time to leave.  I was on the road around 6AM (WI time).  Madison traffic hadn't picked up yet and the temperature was almost perfect in the mid-60's.  I headed south.

There is one Illinois Road Extortion Booth (aka Toll Booth) that I have to go through.  I dutifully pulled into the toll area only to see that there is now no way to pay cash.  I looked for a sign telling me what I should do, but all I saw were signs screaming at me to not stop.  As if I needed yet another reason to dislike northern Illinois around Chicago (don't worry, Southern Illinois is still all right).  So I drove on through and saw a hand written sign with the web site of where to pay.  Granted I couldn't stop to actually write it down, but I was torqued off at this point anyway.  In all fairness, it took me only a few minutes to pay once I got home - but it is still extortion since Illinois roads aren't any better for all the tolls they collect.

I continued on eventually making my way to I-74.  It was getting really warm by this point, but traffic was light all day so I was mostly enjoying being on the interstate.  The boringness of it gave me time to think.  I was really grateful to have been able to see the my ancestor's farms.  And I was especially grateful to have been able to meet my Dad's cousins.  The world is an amazing place - if we let it be.

I must have had the perfect amount of coffee in the morning since I was alert and felt good all day and didn't have to stop until an entire tank of fuel had been burned up.  

The Illinois state police were clearly out in force.  I wasn't too worried about this since I wasn't really speeding above any worrisome level unless a cop had already decided he hated blue motorcycles.  I did see a few cars who zoomed past me pulled over a short time later.  Poor bastards...

As I got into Indiana it got hot, like summer-time hot, 90F with humidity to match.  This early in the year I almost like it though.  Getting through Indianapolis was again tolerable, if not fun.  Soon enough I was on the curvy roads getting close to home.  Somehow all the farm equipment stayed out of my way which is a blessing I'll take this time of year.

I've had lots of time on the road to think about this trip.  Unquestionably I am who I am because my Great Grandparents were who they were.  This is, of course, a banal platitude - but having seen the farms makes this real.  I'll have more time to think about this over the coming days and weeks.  For now, I'm just grateful.  Grateful to have been vaccinated so I could safely take this trip.  Grateful to the people who helped me set this up.  Grateful to my relatives who put up with me for a few hours or overnight.  And grateful to my ancestors ... for everything.

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.