Road Trip to the Field of Dreams -- Our Return Trip Back to Pasadena

On July 4, we said goodbye to the Hancock House.  To this point, we had carefully planned every day of our road trip. But we had absolutely no plans for how to get home. It was pouring rain as we made our way down to the Wayfarer in Dubuque's historic Millwork District .  We sat down with our coffees, Road Atlas and iPad expecting to plot a route back to Pasadena.  

Predictably, we spent far too much time at the Wayfarer.  Instead of planning a route home, my attention was diverted to an excellent exhibit around the corner from the Wayfarer.  The exhibit, titled Millwork Portraits, consisted of photographs and biographies of men and women who worked for decades in Dubuque's Millwork District. From roughly 1900 to the 1960's Dubuque was the nation's largest producer of windows, doors and other millwork.  After the '60's the plants started shutting down with the last company closing in 2014. The exhibit told the stories of the people who lived and worked in the city and of a once nationally prominent industry that was now gone.  The stories lent a context and history that made me appreciate Dubuque all the more.   

Still without detailed plans for our return home, we left Dubuque heading head south. We would figure it out along the way.  Fortunately, we already had tickets for that night (July 4th) to see the Cedar Rapids Kernals play the Quad City River Bandits and had reservations at an interesting Cedar Rapids BnB (Belmont Hill).  

At the Kernals game (photos above) we got our first real introduction to Midwest humidity.  Hot with some light rain, the temperature was a real feel of 100 degrees.  The heat didn't deter us or the capacity crowd that was there for Class A minor league baseball with fireworks after the game.  Mr. Shucks, the Kernal's mascot did a great job entertaining the crowd with the typical corny minor league mascot gags.   

 

While in the Cedar Rapids area, we visited the town of Olin, which was my grandfather's hometown.  The cemetery, where several relatives are buried, was on a hill which provided a sweeping view of the farms below.  The view of the surrounding farmlands was spectacular.  I recalled a few things my grandfather had said about growing up in Olin - about his work in a store, fishing on the Wapsipinicon River, and the "two-seater" they had as an outhouse.   

We had a great breakfast at Belmont Hill where our hosts regaled us with stories of the 2020 derecho that destroyed half of Cedar Rapids' tree canopy.  We left Belmont Hill later than expected but enjoyed visiting with the hosts and other guests. We were completely without plans. So we visited the Amana Colony which was on the way to Des Moines.  I suppose seeing the woolen mill was the highlight.    They had a couple of interesting coffee and pastry shops, but the seating was closed off apparently due to Covid concerns.  In retrospect, I wished we would have gone to the living history farm instead.  

I was a bit weary as we got to Des Moines.  We had gotten a late start, it had rained all day, Amana Colony was disappointing, and we had travelled all of 120 miles. It was getting dark and raining so hard we could not read the street signs.  We needed a hotel and desperately needed a laundromat too. We headed south on highway 35 and somehow found a hotel in West Des Moines.  As the day's luck would have it, the hotel was nowhere near a laundromat. After some searching and driving, we felt our way to a laundromat and something to eat. The day ended in more than a little frustration. 

But, the morning was a new day.  Skies had cleared.  We stopped at Caribou Coffee and hopped back on highway 35. Of course, we never did plan our route home.  Maybe part of my resistance to a plan a route home was that I wasn't yet done with Iowa.  I enjoyed the green countryside, rolling hills and streams.  I wanted to explore the Mississippi north of Dubuque, tour farms, visit the Herbert Hoover home, check out Iowa City and there was more to do in Dubuque beginning with the Tiffany windows at St. Lukes.  

Alas, more Iowa would have to wait for another time.  We pointed the car south and hoped to make it to the Eisenhower Presidential Library in Abilene, Kansas.  But our next stop would be someplace I did not expect: