Day Thirty-two: Rock Valley, Iowa to Estherville, Iowa

July 16, 2024

I was actually pretty worried about the possibility of developing a saddle sore. That can end a trip like this, or at least make it very, very uncomfortable. I should have known better, and not attempted to change riding positions at the end of the day yesterday. All that did was cause discomfort in multiple locations.

I woke up several times in the night, probably because of anxiety over the situation, and also probably because I drank too much Diet Pepsi. I actually slept through my 4:30 alarm. But I was still up by 5:00, relieved to find that my butt felt a lot better. My shorts and jersey had not completely dried from yesterday's sink washing, so I put on my pair of backup shorts, which were, of course, dry.

I got everything back on the bike, carried it downstairs, and handed my key card to the woman at the front desk, who apologized for the mix up last night. I was very curious about how this had happened - how had their computer system allowed a room to be reserved by more than one person? She was vague about this, and implied that it had happened before.

She advised me to always lock the deadbolt and/or chain in a hotel room. "I was just a farm girl when I started working here, but I've seen a lot of things." I felt like I needed to get going, so I didn't press her for additional details about some of the things she'd seen, although I'm sure they would have been interesting.

Outside, it was much cooler. It seemed the heatwave was over. There were a few clouds in the sky.

Rock Valley actually looked good this morning - IN MY REARVIEW MIRROR. Hahaha.

I feel a little bad about criticizing the town so much in my journal entry yesterday. But I don't want to sugarcoat everything I write here.

I took a back way out of town, and was quickly on empty country roads. Nice. I headed north.

I reached the outskirts of Doon, population 637. I walked the bike past a "Road Closed" sign and across a bridge that seemed undamaged from the recent big flood. Maybe it was closed so that it could be inspected.

I was searching for the first cold soda pop of the day, not having wanted to spend any more time in Rock Valley than necessary. But not seeing a gas station on the outskirts of Doon, I turned around and got back on my route, heading east on a paved country road, and passing another "Road Closed" sign. I rode for quite a while before I reached yet another "Road Closed" sign. This time it really WAS closed. Even to me. The bridge over a wide, and apparently deep creek was completely washed out. There was no way I could get across it. Shit.

I turned back towards Doon. I went further into town this time, and stopped at a truck repair shop, where the two men working there helped me figure out a route around the closed bridge. A customer brought a big truck tire in to be repaired, and as the shop owner wheeled it in to the shop, he glanced at my rear tire, and, having heard me say that I had about a left week on my trip, asked me "Will that tire last another week?!"

Uh oh. Usually I laugh when someone questions my tires, and give them my well-rehearsed speech about the high quality of the tires, how they are not supposed to be knobby anyway, blah, blah blah.

But this was a bona fide Professional Tire Man questioning their condition. Now I was a little worried.

I rode out of town on the detour the men had provided. It started to rain. I rode back into town, got under a picnic shelter in the park, and looked at my map again to make SURE I understood the detour. It stopped raining after ten minutes, and I headed out, finally leaving Doon for good.

The detour worked well. I only had to ride a mile on a busy state highway, and then I turned onto the nice, quiet paved road on my route.

Most of today would be long stretches on a few low traffic paved country roads. Not many services for much of the day.

Scenery was nothing spectacular. Just pleasant Iowa farms and fields. The homes and farms along the route today were much neater than the last several days - no unkempt, junky places.

A rare church on the route, where I took a break.

Until the very end of the day, when a few clouds came out, it was sunny after the brief morning rain. Fortunately it was much cooler today. Still, by mile 60 or so, I was craving something cold to drink. I rode into Ashton, population 439, but surprisingly for a town with that many people, there wasn't even a pop machine - just a bar that didn't open until late in the afternoon.

Back on the road. I was enjoying the ride on this long, straight county road. There was occasional traffic, but it was all very polite. May City, no population listed, was off the route a little bit. I didn't want to spend extra time on a likely fruitless search for a pop machine there, so I continued on.

I could see on Google Maps that there was a "seed supplier" business called "300 Acres" right next to the road in a few miles. I pulled in. Success! There was a working pop machine out front, and benches to sit on. The door to the small store, which contained mostly agriculture-related items, was open, but there was no response to my "Hello!"

I sat outside and drank a Fanta orange soda, which I'm sure I have only ever consumed on bike tours, and a Diet Coke, while I ate from the dwindling snack supply in my handlebar bag.

I walked back into the store looking for a trash can - I didn't want to carry the two empty pop cans with me - and this time the owner, Nick was there. I had an enjoyable conversation with him about various things, and he gave me some good routing advice for navigating around a road closure in the next town, busy Milford.

I was interested in the economics of growing and selling corn in Iowa, and he provided some inside info, and gave me cap advertising the brand of seed he sells, Stine. Maybe I will wear it when I visit my in-laws in Iowa, and pretend I'm a farmer.

Milford , population 3,321, was a busy town next to a touristy lake area, but I bypassed all of that, and the road construction, by following Nick's directions.

I stopped at a Casey's and bought an apple fritter and a fountain pop. The young guy who checked me out was nice, but seemed a little off. After I gave him my Casey's rewards number, and when my address appeared on his screen, he told me improbable stories about how, when he lived in Indiana, he'd walked various long distances from city to city in the region, at paces that would have required him to walk faster than I can ride my bike. I just laughed and told him that certainly was impressive.

I left Milford on quiet paved roads.

My original route totaled 87 miles, but the various detours had added ten more miles, so I was at 97 miles when I arrived at my destination, Estherville, population 5,800.

It looked attractive, clean, and prosperous - the opposite of Rock Valley. My hotel was nice, and conveniently located near a "Kwik Star" convenience store. I don't remember ever being in one of these places, but it was a cut above the other convenience stores with variations of "quick" in their names.

I bought a half gallon of chocolate milk, several sodas, and a cheese pizza, walked back to my room and followed the usual post-ride process which has, after more than thirty days, become a little tiresome.

I talked to Joy for a while, and firmed up our schedule for her meeting me at the end of this trip next week, then went to bed when it was still light outside, as usual.

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Today's ride: 97 miles (156 km)
Total: 2,186 miles (3,518 km)

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