Crossing I-35

Junction of County Highway D35 and I-35 near Blairsburg, Iowa

Anyone living in the Dallas-Fort Worth metroplex probably has a great deal of familiarity with Interstate 35. I know that the highway and associated beltways were a fairly broadly discussed and experienced topic in my own youth growing up in the Dallas area.

I-35 is a major north-south interstate highway that runs from its southern terminus in Laredo, TX all the way up north, ending in Duluth, MN. It’s a little over fifteen hundred miles long making it the third longest north south interstate in the country behind I-75 and I-95. The last section of I-35 to be completed in the late 1970’s is the section through central Iowa

Today, near the town of Blairsville, Iowa, I crossed under the I-35 overpass. It was a bit of a milestone since that road that was carrying cars, trucks, and busses just a few meters over my head had such a big impact on my experience down in Dallas. We used to head north on I-35 to visit my grandparents in Oklahoma, and I can still remember the welcome center on the TX-OK border like it was yesterday. 

Today, the overpass provided some much needed shade.

Over the last one hundred days, or so, the time I’ve spent out on the road has reminded me how much these concrete rivers of commerce and communication shape our lives and our experiences. It’s almost unfathomable to me that I could have climbed up the grassy green embankment today and be connected with my hometown by an uninterrupted ribbon of concrete and asphalt.

Sure there’d be traffic, but a couple of days from now, I could be back in my Texas aving passed through the town in Oklahoma where I spent the summers with my grandparents. It’s an incredible legacy this road system that we’ve inherited bestows upon us. I’m grateful that we have it. Even with all the traffic, and the attendant frustrations associated with that bit of frustration.

Do any of you have stories about roadways that have shaped your life?

Energy Country

The day dawned cool and overcast. On our way out to the starting point, the sun had crested the horizon, and sunbeams were cascading through the clouds and illuminating the cornfields to the north with an angelic effect not unlike some stained glass windows that I’ve seen in the past.

Dad dropped me off with a promise to meet at a park in Steamboat Rock, Iowa where he’d join me for a couple of miles if we were able to find suitable parking for the truck. As he pulled out of the gravel parking lot with a hearty wave and a shouted farewell, I headed west on a county highway and into the middle of a large wind turbine installation.

Energy Country - Wellsburg, Iowa

It didn’t take long for me to come alongside the nearest wind turbine. I was alone on the blacktop road and could see for miles to both the east and the west. There was not another human or vehicle in sight.

The wind from the west spun the wind turbine with a rhythmic whoooo, whoooo, whooo as one of the  three blades peaked at the top in the highest winds driving the other two blades in their seemingly endless circular loop.  The sound of the rotating blades had a deep bass tone that you could feel more than hear. In the background, a higher pitched whine revealed the mechanical gearing that was spinning the generator on the top of the tall, white stalk pumping out kilowatts.

I stopped for a moment and just watched as the blades whipped around.  Over and over and over again they turned, the turbine whined, and the electrons flowed.

The west wind also brought with it the scent of a hog barn in the distance. It’s a tangy sort of animal scent that I've grown accustomed to during the walk. I wouldn’t say it smells good, but I would say that it smells like the front end of the process that ends with bacon sizzling in a skillet in your kitchen. It also smells a little like money to the hog farmer, I suspect.

I glanced to my right and to my left and tried to count the white painted wind turbines standing above the forest green fields of corn and the kelly green fields of soybeans that stretched as far as the eye could see. It dawned on me that I’ve been calling this area corn country when I probably should have been calling it energy country. 

There were at least one hundred turbines delivering megawatts of electricity to the grid. The corn itself is just slow solar array, cooking away in the heat of the Iowa summer sun to be turned into ethanol after the harvest. 

The red wing blackbirds and killdeer which have been constant companions for the last several weeks screeched out their warnings as I passed through their territory. The winds spoke through the turbines, and the cornstalks rustled in their rows. I was alone, but it didn’t feel lonely.

After a few moments, I turned back to the west and stepped forward. My foot wasn’t yet one hundred percent, but it felt good. My legs felt strong, and the tension in my shoulders from the pack was starting to come back like an old friend.

Dad was at the designated meeting spot, and he’d found some good parking. We walked together for a couple of miles through energy country until he had to turn back to pick up the truck.

Some people have asked if I get bored walking through “the same” flat country covered in corn and soybeans, but it’s not like that at all. Moving at the pace of walking allows the details….the sights, the sounds, the smells….to come to my attention in a manner that just can’t be replicated while speeding past in a car. Nothing is ever the same, and, for me anyway, it’s an endlessly fascinating and every changing landscape of discovery.

Partners Back on the Road

Got back out on the road today for a test of the foot. It’s still no one hundred percent, so it ended up being a bit of a short day, but at this point, any forward progress after two zero days is quite welcome.

Together and Back on the Trail - He still walks to fast for my taste - Grundy Center, Iowa

The best part? My walking partner is back, and he was able to join me for the first several miles. HIs support over the last week has been invaluable in progressing the pilgrimage, but it was really good to be back out on the trail walking with him. 

Though short in distance, today was a good day! We’ll see what tomorrow has in store.

Rest and Recover Day #2

Today was another day of rest to let my right foot continue the recovery process. Dad and I spent most of the day reading which I thought was a pretty productive way to spend some down time.

Iowa Falls, IA seems to have a community wide focus on reading. There’s a local coffee shop called The Coffee Attic and Book Cellar which has used books in the basement (or Cellar if you will) for sale ranging in price from one to five dollars. It’s a great little coffee shop, and I really like the concept and execution of adding a used book store to the business model. Even the local Hy-Vee grocery store has a used bargain book section. Again, very affordable prices make reading accessible to just about anyone.

The Swing Bridge - Iowa Falls, Iowa

Later in the afternoon, we got out and explored “The Swing Bridge” which is a pedestrian suspension bridge over the Iowa River. Originally built in 1897, it was rebuilt in 1909, 1925, 1956, and finally restored again in 1989. The views of the river both upstream and downstream were pretty spectacular. The sun sinking toward the western horizon provided a golden yellow light to the cliffs lining the eastern bank, and a small waterfall from a creek on the western shoreline fell into the shadow of a bend in the river. 

Purple martins live in the cliffs along the riverside, and they seem to enjoy taking a rest from their bug catching exploits along the inch and a half suspension wires that support the bridge. 

It was good to get back outside, and we’re hoping to be back out on the road very shortly.

Nothing to Report

Canadian Northern crossing the Iowa River - Iowa Falls, IA

As is typical of rest days, there’s really not a lot to report today. Spent most of the day with my right leg elevated trying to get the combination of blister and bruise on the ball of my right foot to recover. Progress as of this evening is not what I would have hoped. We’ll see what happens tomorrow.

We did get out for some dinner, and caught this train sitting on the north end of the trestle across the Iowa River in Iowa Falls, Iowa. That’s a whole lotta Iowa’s all in one sentence. 

Though forward progress was limited, it was a much needed day to recover. Anyway, hope you all had a good hump day