It’s old news now. I am 3 days into Iowa. It seems as if everything here is growing in the month of July. The humidity makes me feel as if I am growing. Gone are the days of the ﬂat open prairie. The earth has begun to roll in a quick pitching motion, as if we were at sea in a storm. The little gravel roads go up and they come down. At the top of a hill there’s just enough time to glance ahead at more hilltops in front of you before you begin to descend yet again. “Sigh,” the ups and downs can get tiring. especially when your cart wheels are on a gravel shoulder which is all i’ve seen in this state.
In every small town there is a big rock in the park. Usually it is a memorial of some sort. I mentioned it to a local and he said: “Folks always want what they ain’t got, and in Iowa we ain’t got rocks.”
I was passed by a cross country cyclist from France named Pierre. As we spoke of our trips we learned that we both were Peregrinos that traveled the Camino De Santiago to Compostela Spain. He had the scallop shell on his saddlebag and I carry a small one on a keychain. We were both so pleased that we just hugged right there on the side a busy section of highway 34. It was as if we were old friends reunited. It was hard to push the cart in the opposite direction of Pierre but that’s what our journeys are about. I will also include a photo of Kevin from Wisconsin. who was pushing his cart from home to the Grand Canyon. Again, it’s hard to leave them … you have so many stories to share. I am in Creston, Iowa tonight and hope to travel to Osceola tomorrow. It should tie with the longest milage day to date. 33 miles.