Hospitality and Lost Horizons

The rolling hills of Iowa present paradoxes. Up, down, up, down, up, down, up down, ad infinitum. Each slow climb is equaled by a speedy descent downward to another steep climb and so on. Yesterday, September 10th, our traveleers encountered this vigorous terrain. They got a late start and had some setbacks, closed roads, washed out bridges and the lack of information hindered their journey and they put in a mere 37 miles by 7PM. It was getting dark with no place to rest. As they rode through Ellston, Iowa, an angel who was tending her garden saw them rolling past and inquired “hey, where ya going?” to which Leah replied, “Maine!” The lady retorted “No, I mean where you going tonight?” To which they revealed their plans to put in another fifteen miles in the dark to a possible campground up the road. “Why don’t you stay with us?” She querried. Pretty much spent and overjoyed at the prospect of a shower, a warm bed, and good company, they agreed without hesitation.

Donna, Kevin and Grandma (who is 95 years old) Greenland (picture enclosed) are kind, generous and hospitable folks and Obama supporters to boot. Leah and Chuck had a splendid time, chatting it up with the Greenlands. Donna (who is a surgical Nurse) and quite energetic prepared superb fillet minions from cattle they had raised on their farm and set out a fabulous spread. In the morning she served a fine breakfast too and Leah picked the most delicious pears from the orchard. C and L had a wonderful time and were completely overwhelmed by the openheartedness of these wonderful people.

So today, energized by their new friend's hospitality they put in another 65 miles to Rathbun Lake and were planning to hit the local steakhouse for dinner (picture enclosed as I just received it as I'm writing this). No setbacks today except a spoke on Chuck’s bike broke. (mmm sounds poetic doesn’t it? – spoke, bike, Chuck, broke). Anyway he did a temporary repair and will get it fixed in Muscatine Iowa a few days up the road.

Chuck also said that they rode through a the middle of fabulous anachronism called Greenfield Iowa, which has wide streets and giant 19th century houses with lawns the size of a golf courses.  

Chuck had an epiphany about this phase of the trip which he shared with me so here it is: A powerful underlying logic is what dictates the length of travel on a particular day. Iowa has dozens of small towns dispersed at unknown distances throughout the hill country. The roads are an unknown of which few in any given town have knowledge nor do they know what lies more than a few miles up ahead in any direction. Is there food? Are there campsites? Is there another town? Is there roadwork going on? Are the bridges washed out from last years flood? Although they have the physical capability of putting in many additional miles, it is the lack information that limits these possibilities and apparently in rural Iowa gathering information at the local pub, the restaurant or wherever requires a bit of probing in that these little villages are usually pretty isolated. As farmers, the people here live their lives in contact with the earth and are open hearted and generous and perhaps what lies up the road really isn’t of much interest. When you live in Shangra La why should it be?