Into Iowa

We’re from Iowa. Iowa.
State of all the land.
Joy on every hand.
We’re from Iowa. Iowa.
That’s where the tall corn grows.

I was tired today. Yesterday I celebrated arriving at the edge Iowa. Today was a 94 mile ride mostly on Hwy 44 an Iowa Scenic Byway. I was looking forward to it, but my body disagreed. My brain said “Isn’t this lovely!” My body said “I don’t care. I’m stiff and sore and I want a rest day. Now!” My brain tried using reason, “It’s just 54 miles tomorrow with fewer hills. You can rest all afternoon and the next day.” My body said, “No. Now!” Eventually my brain convinced my body to do the best it could. My poor body gave all it had, but without a rest it doesn’t have much left.

Tonight we’re staying on the edge of Guthrie Center at the Guthrie County Fair grounds. The fair starts tomorrow. For the second time on the trip, we didn’t have lodging prearranged. We couldn’t find a church. Someone said the city park has camping. Mary asked there and was sent out to the fair grounds. There are many young farm families in campers. It’s clearly a community celebration. Everyone is having a good time.

Schedule: Monday, arrive in Des Moines. Tuesday rest day. Wednesday bike to Pella. Thursday rest and home chore day. Friday drive to Kalamazoo. Saturday Mary’s sister’s wedding. Sunday church. Monday bike from Muskegon to Grand Rapids. Tuesday Pine Rest reception from 8-10 and then on to Salem, MA.

Road kill additions: fox and box turtle.