September 13, 2022
Iowa Towns: The Antithesis of Tourist Towns
Backbone State Park, South Campground
I intended to get an early start for the 3.5 hour drive from MY Town to MY Dad's town, but I failed. Between oversleeping, making coffee, walking Diggity, and saying goodbye to The Feeshko, I missed my target departure time of 6:00 a.m. by two hours.
I tried to make up some of that time by ignoring the legal speed limit and by holding my pee so there'd be no unnecessary stops at gas stations. Despite those heroic efforts, I still didn't get to Oelwein until 11:15 a.m. Luckily, all my gear was packed so all I had to do was attach the bags to The Reckless Mr. Bing Bong--my bike of choice for this trip--and then I was off to the races.
Before I could leave town, I had to stop at the Kwik Star convenience store to pick up some salty, fatty, unhealthy, nutritionally empty snacks for the road. I know that's not the best way to eat while cycling. I know it's not as well-rounded as a real breakfast and lunch, and I know it's less sociable and less relaxing than eating in restaurants along the way. All those truisms aside, my system is faster, cheaper and seems to work for me.
Anyway, the only reason I'm writing about that Kwik Star stop is because it was the setting for the funniest story of the day. Realistically, it's a story that probably won't be as funny to anybody else as it was to me. Get ready for the story anyway.
I was next in line to pay for my junk food when the phone rang. The clerk excused herself to answer the call. Standing at the counter with nothing else to do, I eavesdropped. Despite only hearing one side of the conversation, I was amused because it didn't take too much imagination to figure out what the other party to the call was saying.
"Good morning, Kwik Star," greeted the clerk who answered the call.
"[Inaudible voice]"
"Ragu?"
"[Inaudible voice]"
"Um, no, I think we only have Prego."
"[Inaudible voice]"
"Okay, sorry, thank you," said the clerk with an eye roll.
The reason I thought this was funny is because . . . well . . . WHO THE HELL CALLS A GAS STATION CONVENIENCE STORE TO FIND OUT IF THEY CARRY A CERTAIN BRAND OF SPAGHETTI SAUCE? Why not check the place out for yourself next time you fill your car's gas tank? Why not go to the local grocery store, which is sure to have such a popular brand as Ragu? Was it a prank call? Could the caller and the clerk be foreign spies using some kind of secret code? Does the caller know that he or she took up an extra minute of my valuable time? Chances are, I will never know the answers to these questions.
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The first town on my exciting route was Maynard, Iowa (Population 476). I remember visiting this town with my family in 1968. It was a major tourist attraction at the time because it was a few days after Maynard was totally destroyed by a tornado. I remember being impressed by the tornado damage.
Maynard was quickly rebuilt and, according to the welcome sign at the edge of town, it is "Where the River Flows North"--whatever that means. It's a cute phrase, but I'm not sure it attracts many bike tourists.
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There was a lot of corn and soybeans between Maynard and the next small town. That would be Arlington. If I had ever been to Arlington in my youth, I sure don't remember it. It's a pretty famous town in Bachelor Nation though. If you're not familiar with Bachelor Nation, I'll try to fill you in to the best of my knowledge.
Bachelor Nation is the fan base of the Bachelor and Bachelorette reality shows on ABC-TV. A few years ago, The Bachelor contestant was a guy by the name of Chris. He was a farm boy from Arlington, Iowa and the TV show gave him the nickname of "Prince Farming." Funny stuff, right?
Not so funny was that he blew his chance at eternal Bachelor Nation fame by getting dumped by the bachelorette he chose to be his bride and, later, by killing somebody in a driving incident. He left the scene, so allegations of drunk driving were never proven.
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Indeed, it really did get a little hillier after Arlington, but still not all that hilly. I know from experience that Iowa is much hillier east of here . . . and south of here . . . and in the Loess Hills of the western part of the state.
Six miles later came the town of Maryville (population 69.) Maryville is not so much an actual town as it is an intersection. And what an intersection it is. Located equidistantly from the towns of Strawberry Point, Arlington and Lamont, some wise school district planners decided to build STARMONT High School there.
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From there, I turned eastward onto State Highway 3, which was definitely busier than the smaller county roads I had been riding. I guess that is to be expected when Highway 3 leads to three major tourist attractions. At least, they SHOULD be major tourist attractions. They're every bit as great as more famous attractions in other parts of the country, or in Europe, or in Asia, or in the rest of the world.
I have to wonder how much this region spends on tourism. If there is such an allocation in the local budget, I'm guessing it's pretty small. Which is fine with me, because I like being where there aren't a lot of cyclists riding around, gawking at the scenery, and snapping picture after picture with their cameras. I prefer to be the ONLY one doing that touristy stuff.
After this Iowa blog goes viral, I'm going to feel pretty awful. People will discover northeast Iowa. Then they'll flock to this little part of the world and it will become the new ultra-cool tourist destination. Sorry California. Sorry Trans-America Bike Route. Sorry Canadian Rockies. Sorry France. Sorry England. Sorry Iceland. Sorry everywhere else.
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2 years ago
With a population of 1,155, Strawberry Point is by far the largest town I'll be riding through on this mini-tour. It's also the last town before my destination, so I figured it would be my best opportunity to pick up some food and Iowa beer before heading to Backbone State Park for a night of camping.
From The World's Largest Strawberry, it was only about four miles to the state park entrance. At that point, I entered into a part of Iowa that didn't look at all like the Iowa I had been riding in so far.
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If I remember my history correctly, the CCC was a jobs program created by President Franklin Roosevelt during The Great Depression. The workers did a pretty nice job here.
Overall, the park was even groovier than I remembered it as a kid. Back then, all I cared about was the swimming beach and the adventure of hiking the Backbone Trail. I didn't care about the CCC or FDR or the hills or the scenery or the forests.
I'm older and, ostensibly, wiser now (probably groovier too) so today I was able to better appreciate all the neato stuff I saw.
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Looks like a golf course for the world’s most inept golfers, of which I am one.
Cheers,
Keith
2 years ago
2 years ago
Speaking of trout, the Maquoketa River snakes around the park like a . . . snake. It's a designated trout stream, and I did see several fishermen trying to catch those elusive fish.
"Catching anything," I asked one of them as I passed by on my bike?
"NO!"
I nodded and smiled in sympathy. A short while later, I crossed over the river for about the fourth time. I should have gone back to tell the fisherman what I saw from the bridge. My intel might have changed his luck.
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The trail is only a mile long, but it's quite rugged in some places, which I remembered as being big-time adventure for a 10-year-old. Today, the trail was somewhat less adventurous, but I still had big-time fun on it. The rocks, the overlooks, the gnarled pine trees, the side trails, and the slot canyons seemed otherworldly . . . at least for Iowa.
Once I finished the hike, I was ready to go straight to the campground. I like the camping aspect of a tour almost as much as the biking and hiking. In Greg-world, there is nothing like sitting still and watching the birds and, hopefully, other animals. And writing about the day in your notebook at a picnic table. And cooking your evening meal. And gazing at the stars. And sleeping in a tent.
I was envisioning all those activities in my head while pedaling to the campground, yet there were a couple of distractions. The first one was an arrow pointing to a scenic overlook. The second one was the area around Backbone Lake, which had some more historic CCC structures.
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2 years ago
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2 years ago
I climbed into the tent as soon as the last hints of daylight were gone. That was 8:15 p.m. on this day. I quickly fell asleep to the serenade of crickets, frogs, cicadas and owls. Later, I was awakened by a pack of coyotes who joined the chorus with their barks, yelps and howls. It was most righteous.
Today's ride: 42 miles (68 km)
Total: 351 miles (565 km)
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2 years ago
2 years ago
Vanishing point roads, big rocks, giant strawberries and the occasional bit of greenery. Sounds like Iowa all right. And the CCC must have employed one of the best architects in America, not to mention the masons who did the field-stone construction. Looks like a great place to tour.
Cheers,
Keith
2 years ago
2 years ago
2 years ago