The children of the corn live in Iowa
August 01, 2008
Bike traffic continues to pick up on Interstate 29 north of Omaha.
I have been to Iowa once before and my impression was, “These folks ain’t like us.“ Here, women drive tractors. They are workers. I would buy anything made in Iowa.
I look around and see nothing but crops. Miles and miles of corn. Acres and acres of soybeans. More corn. More corn. There’s something great and wonderful about it. America’s breadbasket. Too bad bread is so, so, carbohydrate. Corn. Maybe it will save us all one day.
The roads that cut through these magnificent corn fields—they are crap. Had we not fixed our leaning bike problem in the trailer, the husband’s Harley would have been down a thousand times. These are the worst roads in the history of my travels. Gaping holes on the edges of the interstate. Patch upon patch upon patch. Herky, jerky motions going down the road.
There are tiny rest stops here that resemble produce stands, minus the tomatoes. There is a lot of one-lane travel on this four-lane highway because of construction. I think we saw one guy working, miles and miles back. He was flagging. Who or what, not sure. Surely not the mowers.
The grass in the median on I-29 rivals the corn crop. It is beginning to tassel and it smells of fruit. Didn’t this state know that thousands of people would be taking this route to Sturgis? Come on, Iowa! Cut the grass.
So, we pull into the first rest stop in the state, you know, the one that makes a lasting impression on travelers, and needs to be inviting. Well, what struck me was they had wi-fi. IDOT has wi-fi at the rest stops! Amazing! Well ... maybe not. The little curser on the computer just spins and spins. The Internet is out there, somewhere in the midst of all this corn, but I cannot find it.
A biker dude walks by: “You been able to get on?“
“It’s coming!“ I say.
“It’s slow,“ he warns. I finally give up, wait a few more miles and find Verizon Wireless Broadband.
We just passed our second rest stop. It was a pull-off with a dumpster. I swear. Ladies, bring your freshette!
Seriously, as far as road reports go, a lot of bridges north of Kansas City are under construction. It was a very slow go from K.C. to St. Joe, the home of the Jessie James Museum. I’ve seen it before. It’s worth a visit.
The interstate bridges in Iowa are about 10 feet wide. If you are going to Sturgis by way of Omaha, pulling a 12-foot-wide trailer, you are in deep trouble. There are inches between huge blocks of concrete and us as we go over the Soldier River and then, the Little Sioux.
Quick story. Years ago I went to Omaha. I was shopping in a big mall and the clerk got chatty when she saw my Mississippi license. We talked a bit before I asked, “Are you from here?“
“Oh, no, honey. I’m from Sin City,“ she said, gesturing to the east.
“Sin City?“
“That’s what everybody over here in Nebraska calls it cause we have casinos,“ she said, referring to Iowa.
Wonder what they do with those casino tax dollars? Maybe they got kickin’ schools.
Sturgis: 470 miles
