Iowa

One of the goals of this trip was to get to Iowa. I wanted to cross it off my been there, done that state list. I guess I had this illusion that I would stand by the Welcome to Iowa sign and snap a selfie or something. I didn’t know the sign was going to be in the middle of the freaking interstate and I would see it and exclaim–“There it is! I guess we’re in Iowa!”

Iowa has a ton of associations for me. My roommate in college was from Ottumwa, which is also where Radar from MASH was from. My son’s father is from Iowa. My high school bestie went to medical school in Iowa. I could go on. Visiting Iowa has become kind of a quest for me. I have been to all the states around it without ever going through it. Twice I have right on the edge of the border and not crossed the line. I signed up for the Great Bike Ride Across Iowa, but had technical difficulties with registration and just didn’t retry. So getting to Iowa has become like one of those goals, like climbing a fourtteener or running a marathon–hard to accomplish, but maybe worth the effort?

Since getting to Iowa was the THING, I didn’t really have a destination or activity planned. We stopped off at the zoo in Omaha before “crossing the border.” A stop off at that zoo, isn’t just a stop off. The zoo is HUGE and has all the things–rainforests and deserts and insects and water parks. My little boy son would have loved this zoo. My grown up son loved the zoo for about two hours, then I could see that he checked out. Probably too much for him. I also wonder if he brought his medicine. I am not seeing outward signs of him losing his shit, but subtle stuff reminds me that he is fragile. He needs rest and too much stimulation bombards his brain and makes him feel attacked. I haven’t actually seen him physically take his medicine either. I asked him if he brought it. I asked him if he is taking it. Both yeses. But he also tells me what I want to hear. So it’s a strong possibility his pills are on the counter back home. If that’s the case, going home today is probably the plan. However, that MIGHT be difficult.

My tire popped on the interstate yesterday. It’s been a minute since I had a flat, but I do know how to change a tire and I have the tools. A sweet farm kid stopped off and offered to help and I let him because I was pretty sure he’d be faster than me. It happened near a town called Atlantic. Long story short there was no tire to fit my car. I did learn that you can use the INTERNET to search for stores that have the exact tire you need. There were exactly three stores in Iowa with the size of tire I needed. All very far away from Atlantic and only one open on Sunday.

So taking the backroads and driving 45 miles an hour, I set off for Iowa City. At first it was kind of fun, rolling through the green country sides with weathered barns, and rolls of hay, and horses and white tailed fawns standing with their ears up. Shayne and I ate a dinner of food I had packed and it was like we were on a picnic in an old timey movie. Shayne said, “Maybe we’ll see the field of dreams out here…” and then we passed a sign labeled Madison County. And he said, “Hey, Bridges of Madison County.” And sure enough we were on the scenic byway for covered bridges.

At any other time in my life, I would have stopped and gone to all six of the existing bridges, but I was driving on a donut in the middle of nowhere. Most of the roads to the bridges are gravel and I was already miles and miles away from my destination. I did take one detour to one bridge which turned out to be on Francesca Lane. We also saw the Warren County Fair and a balloon festival in a field. The balloons weren’t up yet, but a kite flying completion was underway. When the darkness settled in, I was over the backroads, and ready to go home. We made it to Iowa City safely and I had a good night’s sleep and the car tire is being fixed.

We are in a hotel right next to Iowa State. –home of the Jayhawks. The city has a nice vibe. A river. Art. Ducks. Iowa State has an excellent writing program. I sometimes wonder why I didn’t think I could be a writer when I was younger. I have to remind myself to focus on the path that I am on, not the one that I didn’t take. The guy just called to tell me that my car is ready and I noticed that Shayne’s medicine is on the floor next to his bag. I guess trusting the journey is a lesson I am still learning. It really isn’t about where you are going, it’s about how you get there and what you learn on the way.