Covid Cross Day #18 Cascade, IA to Monona, IA

Covid Cross Day #18

June 19, 2020

Cascade, IA to Monona, IA 82 Miles

Start 6:48 AM Finish 5:32 PM

Ride Time 7:15

Ascent 2715 Feet

Descent 2262 Feet

Tour Total 1631 Miles

Details at: https://cyclemeter.com/3f1ef27914a4c684/Cycle-20200619-0648-69252

I slept really well last night in my tent at the American Legion Park in Cascade Iowa. Having stayed here last year, I knew to set up my tent under a tree and away from the bright street lights. I used the bathroom sink for a birdbath before I retired to bed. I wasn't quite at level one, as I didn't wash my clothing. I plugged an extension cord into a nearby electrical outlet and ran current into my tent. My devices were fully charged by morning. My tent protected me from the billions of gnats outside. I could hear the traffic from nearby Highway 151 throughout the night.

Folks in this part of Iowa were really into baseball, and the parks and small stadiums were impressive. The stadium at the American Legion Park had bleachers, an announcers booth, professional stadium lighting, a giant wall to block the late afternoon sun from home plate, and numerous banners supporting local businesses. A small monument to memorialize fallen veterans stood out front of the park, and was lined with flags. The next door swimming pool was open for the season, but yesterday I had arrived too late in the afternoon. I would have loved a refreshing dip.

Cascade really tempted me this morning with it's gas station options on my way out of town. I had wanted to pedal a quick twenty miles to get a jumpstart on the rain. There was a 40% chance of rain by 7 AM and a 100% chance later in the day. I got rained on during this part of the route last year. I also remembered that this part of Iowa was hilly. I forgot to turn on the odometer when I started my ride, so now I had to add 32 to my count. I was embarrassed to have only posted two photos yesterday, and one of them was a similar shot from last year. I needed to step up my photography.

The landscape and sky were beautiful here, but it was really smelly and the bugs were out of control. I didn’t know which animal up the food chain was supposed to be eating these gnats, but it needed to start eating a hell of a lot more. I continued to be captivated by the birds on the prairie. They made trippy stereo chirping sounds that I heard all around me. Warbles come from the surrounding fields and from up on the wires above. This morning I was repeating calls back to the birds. I started feeling raindrops at 7:30 AM. It lightened up though, and didn’t really precipitate.

I heard from Team Spokane and there was talk of a reunion ride when I get to Washington. I also heard from one of my teaching jobs, and it sounded like there would be on-line remote instruction in the fall. Ugh! I couldn't imagine sitting in front of a computer for three months straight. I was so glad to be doing this tour.

I hadn’t flipped over my paper map section and was traveling blind, so to speak. I knew Farley was ahead, but wasn’t exactly sure where it was until I spotted the water tower in the distance. I climbed a big hill before reaching town. I’d seen a ginormous radio tower in the distance, and then a second cell phone tower as I approached. I remembered this from last year. The town built its cemetery on the highest point so that loved ones's remains could be close to heaven. Then the phone companies recognized this hill as a perfect spot for their radio towers. I wondered what the buried souls thought about being bombarded by radio waves.

There were no services directly along my route in Farley so I kept going. It was cool and overcast, and I didn't notice any wind. It was perfect cycling weather. I took a left on Dyersville East Road where I was met with construction signs that read 'Road Closed Ahead - Culvert Replacement'. I had no choice and continued through. I was able to walk my bike through where they were laying down fresh gravel over the new culvert.

I was headed to Dyersville and the sky was dark and the wind was from the west. It seemed like it could downpour at any moment. I spotted the twin spired basilica from miles away. I was Googling for breakfast places as I approached the town. I settled on Brew and Brew, where I had an egg cheese ham sandwich on an English muffin along with an iced espresso latte an an orange juice. I had hoped that it would be more of a traditional type of eatery. I hate ordering food from a counter, and then having to stand there and wait before I then serve myself. I prefer for the server to come to the table, while I multi-task.

Leaving town I passed a giant operation with silos, railroad tracks, and train cars. I bet this was where they turned corn into syrup. A vast part of the Iowa economy is based on corn, billions of tiny little golden pellets. So much land, labor, and machinery is exploited to produce these trillions and trillions of little pellets that end up in all of our food. Yesterday I saw a giant hose squirting a stream of corn pellets from a grain silo into a large cargo truck.

A few miles out of Dyersville I hit wet pavement, which meant that it had just rained. The cool temperatures and overcast sky meant perfect cycling weather. I wasn’t feeling any wind, but perhaps it was behind me. I stopped briefly at Petersburg to take a photo of the church. Both of the huge churches were scaffolded for maintenance. After Petersburg the drizzle began. Coming into Colesburg I was met with a blast of warm humid air. It was overcast with dark clouds on the horizon, but I hadn't seen serious precipitation.

I stopped at Hills Country Store in Colesburg. The friendly clerk remembered me from last year. The lunch special was tempting but I opted for two red Gatorades. I was sitting out on the front porch in a rocking chair drinking my Gatorades and taking care of some business when the friendly clerk came out to talk with me. She was originally from Germany and met her husband when he was doing his military service. He had grown up in this area. His family was poor and they didn't own a farm. He served in the military for twenty years, and was currently using the GI bill to get his masters degree. Colesburg had a population of 404 and she seemed eager to talk with someone whom had a more informed world view. She recognized America’s key problem, specifically that the US hadn’t come to grips with and truly faced it’s past - we hadn’t apologized to African-Americans and made reparations to the descendants of slaves. She wasn’t a Biden fan but was aghast with TURD. She questioned whether her husband would be voting in the fall election. She was curious about how bad the pandemic had been in New York, and questioned to what degree the media had overhyped it. She longed to go back to Germany. She reminded me of the Meryl Streep character from the movie 'Bridges of Madison County'.

Outside of Southport I started to see hills to the east, north, and south. I was approaching the Iowa Scenic Bluffs region and was within a stones throw of the Mississippi River. I passed a downhill sign and let it rip. It was a long pleasant descent, but I knew I'd eventually pay a price. I saw a sign that read, 'Welcome to Elk Port where the rivers run wild'. I followed the Turkey River and then the Volga River to Elkader. There was a slight drizzle. I climbed a long uphill, and was now on the Iowa scenic Bluffs Bi-way.

I couldn't believe that it had been one week since my off-day in Fort Thomas. So much had happened since then. Only one more week until the Fort Thomas COVID-19 all clear. The rain began to pick up and I was starting to get wet. My body temperature remained warm, so I left my jacket and shoe covers in the pannier.

I’d been passing cattle fields all day long. Approaching Elkader, population 1277, I passed a field full of sheep. All of these small towns out west had billboards urging visitors to explore the historic local sites. There were historical markers and historical points of interest. I didn’t even remember Elkader from last year. My building is older than this town. I'm such a snob. The route took me around the Elkader historic downtown, and there were no services along the route, so I didn’t stop.

It began to drizzle again. I preferred drizzle to bugs, and I would rather have drizzle than scalding sun. I was on Highway 13 into Farmersburg. It was a totally crappy harrowing experience. I was being slammed by a heavy drizzle and there was either no shoulder or a shoulder with a rumble strips down the middle of the shoulder. The motor traffic was fast-moving and my sunglasses were fogged and obscured by water droplets. It totally sucked and I was completely drenched.

I had gone to JR’s bar and grill in Farmersburg last year, and was counting on a warm dry place and a meal. I was soaking wet and pulled my bike into the town gazebo, which was directly across the street from the bar. I squeezed the water out of my jersey and put on my dry sweater before entering the bar. I ordered a Leinenkugel’s Honey Weiss, just like last year. My notes from last year were coming in handy. I actually didn’t even recognize the bar, but my phone remembered the WiFi password.

The bartender and I got to talking about gnats, and he told me that Absorbine Junior kept them completely away. He said that there had been a bat disease several years ago, and the gnat population had been out of control ever since. There was a scary borderline right-wing hunting show playing on the large flat screen above the bar. White dudes in military fatigues and face paint were decimating deer and water fowl with rifles and high powered bows. The commercials featured automatic hand guns.

I went to use the bathroom and was delighted to see one of my Extinction Rebellion stickers nestled in among soft porn beer posters. I spent some time looking at my maps and realized that the Northern Tier route had changed since last year, which was reflected on my digital maps but not my old paper maps. I’d now be crossing into Wisconsin substantially earlier, and arriving tomorrow at La Crosse from the Wisconsin side of the Mississippi and not from Minnesota. It was going to be weird to have old paper maps on my handlebars while following different digital maps on my iPhone. Two nights from now I’d be on the Wisconsin side of the Mississippi instead of Frontenac State Park, MN like last year. It was exciting to be doing a slightly different route.

After a cheeseburger and several Leinenkugel’s Honey Weiss, I left the bar to finish my day's ride. The rain had stopped and the pavement was dry when I departed for the six mile pedal to Monona, the garden city of Iowa. I spotted the park where I camped last year, and the construction appeared to be complete. I noticed several RV's parked in the lot. I passed a yard sale in town where cinderblocks were going for 25¢ apiece. Should I have purchased one to bring to Portland?

I rode into town and returned to MJ’s, where I had been last year. The servers were a bit too eager. I ordered several Goose Island IPAs and an order of Jalapeño poppers and nachos. I couldn’t understand my server. People had strong accents around here.