R and J in the USA

Ryan was excited to see Iowa. Julie was, admittedly, neutral, but looking forward to it just as much as any new state. 

Before our 50 states extravaganza, where we intended to not just go to each state, but to tour each state from top to bottom as much as we could in the handful of days we’d have, Ryan counted all the states he’d been to throughout his life, whether for a conference, a vacation, a family or friend visit, or just driving through. He had done a somewhat similar adventure almost thirty years ago, taking eight weeks to drive around the country, with his focus being on visiting National Parks and striking natural features. Over his five plus decades on the planet, between it all, he’d spent at least a little time in 46 states. Iowa would be the first one on our trip he had never stepped foot in. 

Julie has a confession to make. She had few expectations of Iowa. No negative expectations. But though she was looking forward to the Iowa State Fair, she knew very little about Iowa. She had long ago fallen victim to that terrible “fly over states” mentality that can happen when living on one coast or the other. There’s the west coast and then the east coast and lots of miles in between. This was never a conscious thought. But it wasn’t until we crossed the line into Iowa and began to have the time of our LIVES for the next five days did Julie realize how little she had been expecting coming in and how very much Iowa had put her right in her place and shown her what a good time they had to offer!

Our first stop in Iowa was Pikes Peak State Park (not to be confused with Colorado’s Pikes Peak). We were incredibly relieved our first morning in Iowa when we finally got the blog up and running. We delighted in an open morning to turn away from the blog and itinerary and relax and catch up on things that had been waiting for our attention. 

Then we went for a short walk/hike (a debate that carries on in our ongoing conversations about it) in the park and got our first glimpses of the Mighty Mississippi. We were appropriately blown away. What is it about that river? It just kinda gets ya when you first see it. 

We had very little time to do it, but made sure to at least swing by Effigy Mounds National Monument, which was just a handful of miles down the road. The site explained how the local native people used to create mounds in the earth in the shapes of animals to signify their appreciation for their connection with the natural world. We wanted to explore them all, but only had time to take a peek at those that were located fairly close to the parking lot. Absolutely worth the stop. 

We hopped in the car and made the afternoon drive to our accommodations for the evening at George Wyeth State Park. We managed to land a great campsite right on the banks of the Cedar River and started to settle into this land of rivers after having just left the land of lakes.

On our way to the park we swung by Roller Coaster Road, a gravel country road through the open corn and soybean fields that got its name from its topography. It was a straight road with no twists or turns but perfectly undulating up and down and up and down, like a, well, like a roller coaster. It was both beautiful and a blast to drive on, except for the fact that it wasn’t always wide enough for two way traffic, so every hill ascended was a little concerning. Once it opened into a full width road though, it was a blast.

We enjoyed making dinner in the van to the sounds of the family in the next campsite laughing and having a grand old time playing cornhole. 

The next morning, on our way out of the campgrounds to head to our 5K, we had a chance encounter with a trio of super fit runners running right through the campsite. You can read about our encounter with them in our People Along the Way section.

We headed to our 5K at the John Deere Museum in Waterloo and had a great race, which you can read about in our 5K section. After the race we dove into the Museum, which we were pretty excited about. We were touched when a woman who was a museum employee and one of the race organizers ran into the museum to find us and thank us from coming all the way from Rochester, NY, to run their race and visit their museum.

We ate up all the exhibits in the museum. We’ve seen lots and lots of John Deeres, whether in our native upstate New York farmland or traveling through the first twelve states of this trip, and enjoyed learning the stories and histories behind what had become a background to the aesthetic of any rural drive. We learned about the man that made the technological innovations that would eventually become a John Deere tractor. We learned about the impact that had on the local communities and on agriculture as a whole. We learned about the design and engineering process that goes into the machines and what it means to manufacture a product like a John Deere. We learned about the precision and dedication involved. We learned about how the folks at John Deere helped their communities get through the tough times of the Depression and the war years. We developed an appreciation for those iconic green and yellow objects we have always seen on backroads and country drives. And we learned a little bit more about what they might mean to the people who use them in their labors.

The museum experience was really neat. We got to chat with a few local farmers that were taking in the exhibits and soak in the warmth and spirit of Iowa.

Being from upstate New York, we thought we knew corn, and we thought we knew corn fields. Driving through Iowa we realized we know NOTHING of corn fields. In Iowa, it is a literal statement to say there is corn as far as the eyes can see. The inescapable corn was beautiful. 

While we found ourselves enchanted by the endless farmland, what got us more than anything in Iowa was the spirit of the people. They struck us as spirited and friendly folk, and every encounter we had was with people who let us know one way or another, in the sincerest of ways, that they truly loved Iowa. As with any place, we’re sure there are people who don’t like it or chose to leave it. But there were enough encounters with people who went out of their way to be excited about Iowa or grateful that we visited them that it was notable, and it infected us with a certain spirit.

No place was this more clear than on our visit to the American Gothic house in the teeny little town of Eldon. This is the house that forms the backdrop of the famous painting American Gothic. The painting doesn’t particularly project an image of joy and fun in life in the heartland back in the day. We learned that many local folks took offense to its portrayal of the region at the time of its painting.

Right next to the house is a tiny little museum that focuses on things related to the painting. We were excited to visit the museum. So much so that rearranged our itinerary and made a significant drive into southeastern Iowa to see it. Our excitement fizzled when we were greeted at the museum by a sign that said it was closed due to family illnesses (of the museum staff, we presumed). Having driven more than a few extra hours to get there we were disappointed.

That disappointment lasted for all of three minutes. We noticed a multitude of costumed people walking towards the grass yard between the museum and the American Gothic house. We asked one of the passersby, Shane, what was going on. What we found out delighted us to absolutely no end.

“What’s going on here?” We asked Shane.

“It’s The Fun Run. You guys wanna join the race?”

“We just ran a 5K this morning, actually!” 

“Oh, wow!” Shane responded. “But it’s not a 5K. It’s a 0.5K.”

Now we realized the folks dressed like over-the-top hippies and the folks in the peas and carrots costume were all participants in a truly fun run.

We’ve been to many runs called fun runs. Usually they are actual runs, where the focus is running and the name is intended to imply the fun of the atmosphere and the gathering. But even those of us who love running know that, in the most technical of senses, it’s not LITERALLY fun. The name “fun run” usually refers to the “run” part, with just a cheeky nod to the “fun” part. It’s more conceptually fun. You know, you put a lot of work in to be able to do it, then you do it and feel pain while you are doing it, and then, when you are done, you are glad you did it. You know, fun. But THIS run was an ACTUAL fun run. Emphasis this time on the “fun” part with a cheeky nod to the “run” part. There is alcohol and bacon involved in this one. They are serious when they say “fun run”. You can read more about The Fun Run in our Iowa section.

After the Fun Run we stopped at the Eldon Depot Museum, a small elongated building filled with mementos from a time when the Rock Island Line came through Eldon and made all the difference. We met a couple of gentlemen in there that took our love of Iowa to an even higher level. You can read about them in our People Along the Way section.

It’s safe to say we would never forget Eldon. We were in as good a mood as we could be. The people of Iowa were showing us you don’t need iconic urban features like fancy restaurants, stunning architecture, or the flashing lights of Broadway (all of which we love and appreciate), nor do you need epic natural features like oceans, geysers, mountains, valleys, or canyons (all of which we adore and are moved by), to squeeze every drop of joy and awe out of being alive. It’s enough to just find or make joy. Just like their miles of corn, community spirit and joie de vivre seemed to be something Iowans had no problem planting, cultivating, growing tall, and harvesting. 

On our way from Eldon to our Harvest Host for the evening we visited the Bridges of Madison County. They were beautiful and bucolic, and we ran into a fellow traveling couple who we eventually started chatting with after seeing them at bridge after bridge. 

Our Harvest Host for the night was hosted by Dwight and his dog, who decided she’d keep us company as we settled in. Dwight was as hospitable as could be, and the site for parking was as beautiful as could be. A little oasis amongst the dust and corn. We could have stayed there for days and days by that little pond in the backyard. We were so grateful for this amazing program where people so generously opened their homes to share their beauty and their bounty with perfect strangers. Dwight would gain no profit from our coming except maybe the reward that comes from helping someone out and sharing something beautiful. We were glad that we would be returning the next night.

The next day we landed at the Iowa State Fair, which took the Iowa spirit and put it on steroids. There were rides, agriculture and livestock (including the biggest pig we’ve ever seen and pumpkins bigger than a doghouse), and educational booths. There was more food than we ever imagined could possibly exist, each attempting to outdo the next with its delectable gluttonous creativity.

Julie promptly and enthusiastically participated in the gluttony. Kettle corn was purchased within minutes of crossing through the front gate. Not too long after that Julie was eating a bacon wrapped rib on a stick. At that point, having felt she reached the top of the culinary gluttony mountain, she found a gluten free corn dog stand, and all bets were off. Before we left, a turkey leg was purchased and Julie insisted Ryan buy the Bucket of Cookies that was a classic Iowa State Fair purchase. Ryan happily caved. By the time we left the fair, we were wiped and stuffed and happy for the experience. Though we loved it, we couldn’t imagine how one could take it in for more than one day. We figured it’s a skill one has to develop over years of training. 

The day after the fair we visited the Iowa State Capitol, whose architecture blew us away right off the bat. We hadn’t met a State Capitol building yet that didn’t offer some sort of awe in its architecture and contents. So, in that sense, Iowa simply lived up to the standard. But there was something a little extra about Iowa’s capitol. We tried to put our finger on it and decided it was perhaps the vibrance of the color schemes or the openness of the space.

We rode our bikes over the High Trestle Trail Bridge, a Des Moines River span with neat sculpture work.

We visited the World’s Largest (Concrete) Garden Gnome, which was located in a beautiful botanical garden on the Iowa State University campus in Ames. It did not disappoint. Walking through the garden we thought of Julie’s sister, a botanical whiz who we were sure would see even more beauty than we could see with our amateur eyes.

After the capitol, the trestle, and the gnome, we drove toward the evening’s Harvest Host, a winery just off the main road whose restaurant served nachos and ribs. Alas, we arrived too late for Julie to get a taste of those ribs.

In the morning, we grabbed some delicious nachos from the winery, had an interesting conversation with the proprietors about some of the business challenges and frustrations they face as small business owners, and headed out to what would stand out to both of us as perhaps one of the most delightful and magical stops on our trip so far.

In each of the states that has an iconic movie associated with it, Julie, a movie lover, does her best to watch it. While she hadn’t gotten to rewatch The Bridges of Madison County, a movie she recalled loving back in the 90s when she saw it in the theater, there was no question which movie was non-negotiably the one to watch.

“If you build it, he will come.”

We watched it, then we visited it.

We went to the actual Field of Dreams, and it was glorious.

When we arrived, there were people at various spots wandering around the area. The house, field, and bleachers were in the exact spot as in the movie. There were a few kids playing ball on the field.

We decided to find our seats on the bleachers and let the magic overtake us. Before long we felt ourselves needing to be on that field. Behind the backstop is a bin filled with balls and gloves and bats for visitors to dip into the magic. We grabbed two gloves and a ball, headed out to right field just before the corn, and started playing catch. Man, there is something about playing catch that just feels right and kinda makes the whole world make sense. It’s easy to understand how folks have gotten romantic about baseball over the years. There is just something about that simple act of playing catch. Julie remembered her days as a kid tossing a ball with her dad in the front yard and, just as Terrence Mann/James Earl Jones predicted would happen, we felt that longing for the past and felt a little spark of something light up again, so much so that we purchased a baseball and continued playing catch as the days of the trip carried on. 

We didn’t want to stop playing. We threw grounders and pop ups and good old fashioned back and forth, and Ryan impressed Julie with his amateur juggling skills. We headed into the gift shop before peeling ourselves away. Of course, before leaving, we both had to cross through the corn and get a peek at the other side. We can’t tell you what was there inside the corn, of course. You’ll have to make that journey for yourself.

We headed into the nearby town of Dyersville, where there were two tiny side-by-side museums owned by the actor who played Kevin Costner’s father in the movie – the one who would come if he built it. One of the museums was an homage to baseball and baseball history. The other was dedicated to the movie and its production. We took in the small exhibits at the baseball history museum, reading some inspiring quotes about life from some legendary baseball players, then headed to the museum that chronicled the making of the movie itself, including how the local community participated, how the house was selected, and how they turned a bunch of corn into a baseball diamond in the middle of Iowa.