BOONE, IOWA: Tough Guy? Or Quitter?

September 14, 2018

"WHAT THE HECK WAS THAT?" my brain shouted silently in my head. At first I thought it was a dog barking outside my tent. After the second outburst, I recognized the distinctive hooting of a barred owl. It was so loud that it must have been perched right above my tent--if not right ON my tent. Another owl, located somewhere across the campground, soon joined in and they traded hoot-hoot-hoot-hooooots back and forth for several minutes. Apparently fed up with the noise, a dog started barking. It was 4:00 a.m.

Four hours later: Morning coffee at Briggs Woods County Park.

On the road, the wind did its thing and I did mine. Specifically, the wind blasted my face all day and I valiantly pedaled my bike . . . until I quit. Four hours of that punishment was enough for me, and the 86-degree temperature didn't help. Luckily, my tough-guy cred has long been established, therefore I don't feel ashamed at all.

It wasn't all pain and suffering though. I made friends with more cows and horses. But don't worry, I won't bore you with more pictures of farm animals. Instead, I'll bore you with more pictures of wooly bears.

My fascination with wooly bears was reawakened after I saw my first yellow one a couple days ago. I can't figure out why they love to cross highways, risking at least a 50-50 chance of death. I swerve to avoid them, but cars and trucks don't. While waiting for my chance to take a picture of the orange one, I was worried for the little guy. He crept and crept, and then the gust of wind produced by a passing truck blew him back about two feet. He uprighted himself and continued on, only to get blown back again by a car. Eventually I was able to get out onto the highway for my picture and I watched until the wooly bear finally made it across the road to live another day.

Farm machines use the highways too. This is a contraption that mows down stalks of corn.

Now I'm going to try to put a positive spin on today's wind. First of all, it wasn't all THAT bad. I wouldn't even put it on my top-twenty list of godawful headwinds. But the truly interesting thing was that whenever I stopped for a drink of water or a roadside snack, there seemed to be some kind of rural Iowa magic going on: The tops of a million cornstalks all leaning the same way. The rustling--almost whistling--sound of the corn leaves swaying in the wind. The smell of the morning air. I know it sounds corny, but it felt like a massage to my senses.

Of course, I could have enjoyed the sensations with a tailwind, but I might not have appreciated it as much.

I became a quitter in the city of Boone. Not even the temptations of that beautiful Iowa voodoo could make up for hour after hour of wind resistance and no hope for relief.

I noticed that Boone is the birthplace of Mamie Eisenhower. I'm sure Mamie was very nice and she was a great First Lady, but I'm not going to visit her historic site. I need to rest up because tomorrow I'll be riding through not just one, but two of the most terrible bicycling cities in this great nation.

Downtown Boone looks like another Main St. USA to me.

Today's ride: 34 miles (55 km)
Total: 417 miles (671 km)

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