To Iowa City

It was early, not too early, but early enough. I was heading North again. The morning was veiled in a light haze that sank and pooled into fog in the low areas. Garlands of the thicker fog were pulled like cotton candy over the roadway. When the sun rose above the horizon, the fog became gossamer coral, striped with the extended shadows of the trees on the hill tops. It was a magical drive.

About an hour into the drive, the coral had faded to gray and dissipated. I pulled into the Modernaire Cafe in Lancaster, Missouri for some breakfast. Northern Missouri is farmland. Crops and Cattle are scattered over the hills. The Modernaire Cafe is a local place, that caters to locals. I stepped through the door a stranger. All conversation stopped, all eyes were on me. The stranger with the black satchel over his shoulder. It was like one of those old Western movies. I was the cowboy who just pushed through the swinging doors, but I wasn't wearing a hat.

The barmaid, er, waitress broke the silence, "Breakfast?"

"Yes, please." We went through the "seat yourself anywhere" routine, I planted myself at a table against the wall and the silence descended again like the heavy fog earlier. I was a bit self conscious with so much attention, but I had work to do. I pulled out my computer and got to it. There as almost a murmur, "Ah, so that's what's in the bag." Finally, someone's food came out of the kitchen and at the sound of the plate touching the table conversation began again. Once more I was invisible.

It is interesting, silences like that. There is an almost tactile tension that everyone in the room wants gone. Anything can break the tension. In this case it was the delivery of food. What might have happened if I had turned around and asked. "So what do you'uns here do?" I will have to try that sometime.

It was a good, country breakfast. The old boys were sounding opinions on Iraq, politics, national news and the weather equally. One fellow had a thicker accent than the others and was telling another about getting something on the "pasture" side of his truck. He repeated it several times for his friend. "Wow," I thought, "up here they have names for the sides of their trucks like port and starboard on a ship, now that is a unique local custom." His friend was still having problems understanding the message, when the confusion was resolved. Passenger! The passenger side! D'oh! Misunderstanding can be so much fun!

I got up and walked over to the cash register to pay. I noticed one old boy was staring at my feet. I went back to the table to leave a tip, keeping my eyes on him and walking slower. He did not once stop staring at my feet. When I got to the gravel parking lot I looked down to see what could have fascinated him so. Ah, I was wearing shoes that were made of Ostrich skin. I'll bet he talked about my shoes all day.

Quick enough I was in Iowa. The day was full, the air was delightful. Once again the countryside was filled with the sounds of crickets, locusts and frogs. How nice. The hill were less steep than in Missouri and rolled voluptuously. The fields of crops were even larger than the fields in Northern Missouri. Huge farms. And corn! I first saw corn growing on hills in North Carolina, this was better! The hills are better for the growing of corn and the fields are immense. Hundreds of acres covering hills and vales. Oh gee. I'm a big fan of big fields of corn on rolling hills. They have a beauty all their own. This corn was older than the North Carolina corn. It was blooming and the pollen heads topped all of the fields, some of the hills acquired a pinkish tone from the blooms. I can easily see why Grant Woods loved painting this part of the country.

With the hills rolling lower, the roads are straighter and more predictable. Pretty quick I turned off of the pavement and hit the gravel roads... Off the map once again. When you are driving in the plains states (the flatter ones) the layout of the roads is pretty straight forward. If you are not in a hurry go ahead and try driving off of the map. All you need is a general idea where you are going--up and to the left, or wherever. All your have to do is to keep a vague sense of how much you have gone North/South and East/West. You really don't have to know where you are every moment. It is easy to get around off map, try it, see what you find.

Some people think that if you don't know where you are, you are lost. This isn't necessarily so. It isn't about knowing where you are, rather, being comfortable with wherever you are. You might simply be joyfully wandering. That's a nice way to get somewhere... Any time you want to know where you are look for a water tower and mosey over there. That's probably a town big enough to be on a map. You can also take the clue of power lines. Skinny lines lead to bigger lines... that is, if you really want to know where you are geographically.

In Iowa there are class B maintenance roads. These are dirt roads that can be in any kind of condition. If it is wet and raining you might have deep mud, so keep aware. It was dry, I boldly drove these roads knowing that if I came to something impassible I could always back up two miles to the previous crossing. If you are not in a four-wheel-drive vehicle and/or have no experience driving in deep mud, attempting to drive these roads might put you into more of an adventure than you bargained for.

Driving on these back road you will discover things that are less edited. You will pass by places that smell worse and/or be more dilapidated. At one point I came across the bloated carcasses of eight or ten pigs. Apparently one of the pig factories I had passed had an illness going through their crop and some of the inventory died.

I ended my day in Iowa City. I found my cheapo hotel in the standard way. Take the old feeder route and look for a hotel/motel that was built at least 50 years ago, sleep there. It was a nice hotel. I went for a random walk (I walk like I drive.) Iowa City is a college town. College towns are packed with residents/students who are open to new experiences. Many of these experiences are food oriented. You can find interesting restaurants within walking distance of student-oriented housing.