Iowa – Doldrums

August 22nd, 2015

Done in Des Moines, and still lost as with what to do, east seemed like the best bet.  I made it to Iowa City, which turned out to be a huge college town, rife with everyone moving in, scared parents, and jay walkers.  Being slightly lost here meant not only juggling between figuring out where I am, and trying to not hit anyone in the process.  Suffice to say, I made it.  But there was nothing here for me, and I turned north to Maquoketa Caves State Park.



I wandered up to the park and lo and behold, the park office was closed, I think.  It wasn’t more than a garage with the word “office” over the door, and I didn’t know if it was the actual office for the park, or something else.  Wandering close to the house, I was greeted by a lady who appeared to be done with a long day, and I was one last nuisance.  I asked a few quick questions, and went on my way, apologizing for interrupting after hours.



Fun fact, all Iowa state parks are free!  Most every state, due to budget cuts and other financial factors, has entrance fees for their state parks.  Which is quite a bummer since they’re supposed to be available to everyone, no matter what.  A bit of shame as to our current economic priorities, but one that majority of people don’t even think about, kind of like infrastructure.

Thankfully, the city of Maquoketa is not far.  It so small, that when I stopped to ask some locals about where I could find a coffee shop, they looked at me like I was speaking a foreign language.  Apparently those don’t exist here, but McDonalds and Walmart do.  I accepted the answer and decided to just relax and watch a movie.  A zero productive day, and I was strangely ok with it.  There wasn’t a whole lot to do.




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Arriving at 815, I was told a ranger would be stationed at the pavilion at 8 to answer questions and help me out.  That was a lie, shocker.  Thankfully, at least the sketchy looking office was open.  I made it up there to inquire about a map of the area and caves.  For some reason, only the entrances are mapped out, but not the actual caves themselves.  Strange for an open park that has caves in its name.  Since I have been fortunate enough to cave before, I asked a few directed questions, only to be met with answers of, “do whatever you want.”  Really?  That doesn’t seem safe, at all.



Geared up, seeking adventure, I set out.  Unfortunately, it wasn’t found.  The main caves were lighted and had paved walkways through them.  The other caves were only maybe a hundred or so feet deep.  The real caves, with full on crawling and adventure, I had to say no to since I was solo.  Caving has a pretty basic set of rules: 1) never go alone, teams of 3 advised, 2) tell someone where you’re going, and when you’ll be back.  Well, I was 1) solo and 2) had no cell signal.

 Against my desire to go, I decided it wasn’t worth it.  Add it to the list of places I’ll have to return to with a partner in crime.  The rest of the park was a pleasure to walk around in.  The vibrant greens of the underbrush sliced by the scattered dirt trails weaving through out.  A gentle white noise from the river running through accented the loud hum of grasshoppers singing.  Families seeing the park with their kids of all ages and audio levels reminded me that that I was still close to civilization.



Only lunch time and already the whole park explored, I wandered down to Davenport to spend the remainder of the day and my time in Iowa.  Davenport is part of the “quad Cities” again separated by a river, this time, the Mississippi.  I biked up and down the river banks, exploring the parks and various trails around.  I came upon a place called Credit Island.  A funny name, but a wide open park on an island.

Riding around the one trail/road about the perimeter of the island, there was a full statue remodel of a famous painting, see if you can guess it.  Kind of a strange piece and a bit out of place, but cool.  Then came the real wtf piece, a full tank.  No sign, no plaque or any kind of description/memorization around.  Just a full blown tank.  Obviously the ports were welded shut, but you could run around on it, jump, hang from anything your heart desired.  A strange thing in a strange place.  How strange.



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Motivation is a fickly little thing.  I awoke and felt absolutely exhausted.  The weight of fatigue filled my body.  I don’t know why, not like I’ve had a very strenuous few days.  But I could not get up and moving.  Stuck in the doldrums both mentally and physically.  Maybe it was all finally catching up.  Whatever it was, it wasn’t pleasant.  I slowly meandered about, got my bearings, and found a place to park to get on my bike.  Slowly moving about, like a sloth in a time trial I made it.



Roaming around Davenport some more, I found the few places I wanted to check out a bit lame.  Add that to the mental doldrums.  There was nothing here.  I was trying to find and make something fun that I just couldn’t find any fun or desire in.  After a bit more biking around, I rested at a park to research and relax.  Ready to go, finally, my bike wasn’t.  The front tire was fat.

F#$%.



Well, I guess it was destined to happen. I’ve been doing all this biking without a spare, patch kit, or pump.  It was only a matter of time really.  A quick check of the map said I was almost 5 miles from my car.  Joy.  So, I began the long walk of shame back to my car.  Thankfully it was along a small river through town, so there wasn’t any traffic to watch out for, the lush area was well kept, and trees provided ample shade from the harsh midday sun.

2. hours. later.

Arriving back at my car, a quick inspection found a large hole on the rim side of my bike.  Don’t know how that happened.  I found a local bike shop and they replaced the tube no problem.  But I acquired a pump and patch kit, and kept the old tube to repair and keep as a spare.  Lesson learned, and feeling not much better than in the morning.  I reserved myself to more work, hoping to escape the rut that I was stuck in.