Road Trip to Field of Dreams - Return to Pasadena Continued

As we left our hotel in West Des Moines, we drove onto Mills Civic Parkway and saw a Scooters coffee across the street from a Caribou coffee.  We chose Caribou and turned onto Interstate 35 heading south.  Within a few miles, we were out of the city and back travelling through the green Iowa countryside.  I liked that the city was so close to the country.  I regretted that we had not seen more of Des Moines.  

We charted a course to Abilene, Kansas, where we planned to see the Eisenhower Presidential Museum.  I am not sure how I missed this, but Interstate 35 runs due south through Osceola, Van Wert and Decatur City and then right into Missouri.  Surprise.... we were going to Missouri.  

Just over the Missouri border, near Eagleville, we stopped at the Missouri welcome center.  To say this was a welcome center or rest stop does not do the place justice.  The usual brochures and local displays were there but also a beautiful mural depicting all things Missouri. Just off the parking lot there was an open field planted with flowers and grass.  Amid all the plants was a herd of bronze buffalo.  We spent some time wandering among the bronze herd.  You could almost imagine what the plains must have looked like centuries ago.  

Once on the road, we realized we would not make the Eisenhower Museum that day.  It was 340 miles to Abilene, and the museum closes at 3:30. We needed a Plan B.  Now that we were in Missouri, we looked at what we could see around Kansas City.  There was the Jesse James home.  That looked interesting. But, wait..... Independence, MO is the home of the Truman Presidential Library and Museum,  We had started the day thinking we were going to Kansas to see Eisenhower, but now we were on our way to Independence and Truman. 

It was a stroke of luck.  I really enjoy the presidential libraries. They tell the story of the president and his family and the challenges of the day.  We gladly spent half a day at the Truman Library.  The next day we continued on to Kansas and, fair is fair, spent a half day at the Eisenhower Presidential Library and Museum.  Both the Truman and Eisenhower libraries were incredible educational experiences and both, for very different reasons, quite moving.

Now, I could write alot about these presidential libraries, the men, the families and their times.  But, I will let the Truman and Eisenhower statues get to the heart of it.  Both libraries are planned with bronze statues of the presidents outside the library. The Truman bronze is modestly larger than he was in real life -- his bronze statue standing maybe a foot taller than his real life 5'9"  --  and blends in nicely with the surrounding library grounds. The former clothing salesman and last president without a college degree is seen engaging others with a congenial tip of the hat.  After playing some piano, Harry even had time to stroll the grounds with me.  

It is a completely different scene over at the Eisenhower Library. The bronze Ike is raised on a pedestal and dominates the Library entrance and grounds. No blending in here and no mistaking that Eisenhower was a five star general, Supreme Commander of the Allied Forces, and oh yeah, president too.  Like our visit to the Truman Library, our time at the Eisenhower Library was an incredible experience.  

We stayed at the Eisenhower Library until closing time.  Then it was time to hit the road. Where would we go?

At this point, all planning was on the fly, which suited me but drove Marcia nuts.  After leaving Cedar Rapids, we had no reservations and had not even settled on a route back to Pasadena.  We had "discovered" the Truman Library, then made it to Topeka for the night.  Eisenhower was the last must see stop for the trip and there was nothing else to do in Abilen, KS.  

After toying with heading back to Colorado, we settled on Albuquerque as our next desitnation.  So, from Abilene, we drove west on the 70 for a bit, then turned south at Salina. We got stopped for gas in Liberal, KS, home of the Liberal Bee Jays.  

We were in farm country, but this farm country was flat and dry -- very different than what we saw in Nebraska or Iowa.  Then, occasionally the countryside bloomed.  Below is a sunflower farm that was so stunning, we stopped to admire the acre upon acre of flowers.     

The day was wearing on.  The car was pointed toward New Mexico, but we would need to stop for the night.  As night fell, we were weary of traveling for the day.  

As we crossed from Kansas into the Oklahoma, it looked to me like the panhandle was a tough place to live.  Through the dimming light, I could see more than a few abandoned buildings and from my air conditioned car I knew it was both very hot and very dry outside.  It was dark as we pulled into Guymon, which is the largest city in the panhandle with 13,000 people.  We found our hotel, which in the light of the next morning turned out to be next to a junk yard.  

On to New Mexico.  

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: 

   

Road Trip to Field of Dreams -- Day 8 - at the Field of Dreams

The day started with breakfast in the dining room. The Hancock House is a true mansion.  Elegant and richly appointed, the dining room instantly transports you back to the late 1800's and way up in social class. Simon is the perfect host and a captivating storyteller.  Once all guests were seated and had coffee, he regaled us with a very lively history of Dubuque and the Hancock House.  

At the table, my big surprise came to life as our two kids walked in to join us for breakfast.  They had caught a flight from Dallas to Cedar Rapids (how many can there be?), rented a car and drove out to Dubuque.  Near midnight they had knocked on our door and in a sleepy groggy state, I opened the door.  They were so out of context, and I was so sleepy I did not believe what I was seeing.  Did they know they were in Iowa?  Or was this some kind of dream?  Well, the next morning in the Hancock House dining room, the dream became real.  All four of us were together in someplace we had never been.  We were in Iowa, having breakfast at the Hancock House mansion.  And we were going to the Field of Dreams.  Crazy!  

 After breakfast, our family headed west.  It felt good to have all four of us in one car.  That's a routine thing when they were young.  I am probably speaking just for me, but I loved those family road trips.  Once the kids grow up, those trips together are but warm memories.  Getting the whole family in the car is not so easy.  

We drove up and over the Dubuque bluffs.  Now, with the Mississippi River behind us, green farmland all around and the Field of Dreams ahead, in many ways my trip was complete.  More than I could have imagined.  

We passed through the farm towns of Peosta, Epworth and Farley, then turned off 20 and headed north on Jamesmeier Rd., then left on Prier and north on Black Hills. This was rural Iowa.  Endless corn fields.  A few farmhouses and silos. Signage is thankfully spare.  Black Hills dead-ends into Lansing Road and a left turn takes you to the Field of Dreams.  The Field is on part of the old Lansing family farm.

We turned up the driveway and found a parking place among rows of cars on a bumpy dirt lot.  I saw license plates from many states.  Cars parked and families piled out.    

The four of us unloaded from our car.  We grabbed our lawn chairs, gloves and baseball.  Along with everyone else, we headed out to the Field.    

As in the movie, the baseball field is framed by rows and rows of green corn.  Marcia and I had just travelled through Nebraska and most of Iowa so we had seen a lot of corn.  Nothing particularly special there.   As for the baseball field -- it's basic, just a backstop, dirt infield and grass.  I've seen hundreds.  It is all so ordinary, I thought. But, somehow magical too. I watched as parents and kids, brothers and sisters, old and young, played catch out on the field.  To my southern California senses, the sky was more blue, the white of the clouds more brilliant and the grass and corn greener than anything I was used to.  To me it was unmistakable.  There was a mysterious beauty about this baseball field - this Field of Dreams.  

The four of us found a spot along right field, put down our chairs and walked out onto the outfield to play catch.  We had brought our gloves -- one borrowed from Uncle John, a used one from Play it Again, a new softball glove and my ancient Wilson.  The four of us spread out across right and center, throwing and catching the ball as we moved.  

I suppose, I've played catch thousands of times, with hundreds of people and in countless places -- backyards, front yards, streets, schools and fields.  But, never on the Field of Dreams. And never with my whole family.  Although it felt good to catch and throw the ball.  This catch was not really about the catching and throwing.  This was about the people -- my wife and kids - who journeyed with me to this place.  

It's not just me. For more than 30 years, the Field of Dreams has been home base for the Ghost Players, which is a troupe of local baseball players who have travelled the globe with a baseball comedy show and more.  We had planned our Field of Dreams visit to see a Ghost Players performance.  They did not disappoint.  Wearing replica 100-year-old White Sox jerseys, they recreated the movie scene where White Sox players of long ago come out of the corn and jog onto the field.  There was an inspiring speech from the Ghost Players' catcher, then they entertained the crowd with cornball skits.  After the show, we took a picture with the team.

Last August, baseball writer extraordinaire, Benjamin Hill, wrote about the Ghost Players. He interviewed longtime Ghost Player Larry Shieltz, from Peosta.  Larry talked about why they still carry on after 30 years: "What we do mirrors the movie.... It's about redemption and second chances. And the message to take the time to say, "I love you." or to thank somebody.  That's what we really preach in our daily routine and what the Ghost Players are about."   

Before I end this historically (at least in the annals of east of allen) long post, I want to revisit the movie's story line.

In Field of Dreams, an Iowa farmer (Ray Kinsella) is prompted by a mysterious Voice to do the exact opposite of what a farmer is supposed to do.  Moved by the Voice and at the risk of losing his farm, he plows under his crop of corn to build a baseball field.  The farmer's obedience to the Voice results in a baseball field where dreams come true.  Initially others' dreams come true. Shoeless Joe Jackson gets to play baseball again. Moonlight Graham, who played one inning in the majors but never got to bat, gets to bat.  A tired old writer named Terrance Mann, who dreamed of playing in Ebbets Field, recovers his passion for writing and is invited to join the players in the corn.  

As for Ray, the Voice had promised, "If you build it, he will come," and "ease his pain."   In the movie's closing scene, we find out what the Voice meant.  We learned earlier in the movie that Ray's greatest regret was telling his father that Shoeless Joe, his father's hero, was a criminal and then refusing to play catch with his father.  The regret was sealed when his father died before Ray could make things right. In the final scene, Ray's father appears at the Field and father and son play a game of catch that heals the decades-old regrets.  The story has come full circle as we realize that the catch is healing to his father, but pain the Voice really spoke of was Ray's own pain.     

But that's not all of it.

When Shoeless Joe first comes to the Field, he asks Ray, "Is this heaven?"  Bemused, Ray responds, "No, it's Iowa."   In the closing scene, the same question is asked.  Just before the two have their catch, his father asks Ray, "Is this heaven?"  Ray again says, "It's Iowa," but then asks his father, "Is there a heaven?"  His father responds, "Oh yeah, it is the place dreams come true."  At this point, the music rises and Ray slowly turns to scan his farm with his eyes finally resting on his wife and daughter who are sitting on the porch swing.  Ray smiles as he realizes that maybe his dreams are coming true and maybe his little farm and family is, for him, heaven. 

Is it any wonder there is a line at the Field for pictures on the porch swing?   As we finished our house tour, we waited for a family photo on the porch.  There is nothing formal about it, but one family takes the photo of another and so on.  The family ahead of us was down from Minneapolis and I took their picture.  In turn, they took our family photo. 

So, these posts of our road trip cross country to the Field of Dreams ends with a family picture on a porch, which is really the whole point of the matter. We travelled 2,000 miles to Dyersville, Iowa.  But, it was never about Iowa.  It was about dreams and, most important, it was about family. In a wonderful way, our big road trip ended exactly where it started months earlier at our home in Pasadena when, with my family around, Marcia gave me that extraordinary birthday gift. 

Road Trip to Field of Dreams Day 7 - Lincoln, Nebraska to Dubuque, Iowa

Hancock House, Dubuque, Iowa

On day 7, we hit the road early.  Ahead of us were 380 miles and near 6 hours of driving to take us from Lincoln to Dubuque, Iowa.  Dubuque would be home for a few days.  Saturday, July 2 was set aside for the Field of Dreams.  We had our tickets for the farmhouse tour and there would be the ghost players on hand that day.  But first, there was Iowa to cross.

We left Lincoln on I-80 and crossed the Platte River.  In rather abrupt fashion the city of Omaha appeared.  Leaving Omaha, we crossed the Missouri River and then finally -- we were in Iowa.   

 The drive through Iowa was a joy.  Part of it was we were close to our destination.  But I was surprised at how much I enjoyed the rolling green Iowa countryside with occasional farmhouses, silos and creek beds that amazingly were full of water.  We veered south of Cedar Rapids (which we would visit on our way home) and headed north-east into Dubuque.  More surprises were ahead.

Above is the Hancock House, where we stayed for three nights in Dubuque.  An 1891 Victorian high on a bluff overlooking the city and the Mississippi River, this place was spectacular.  The owner, Simon, was a gracious as could be and made our stay very memorable.  He loves his city and, after some time in Dubuque, quite unexpectedly, we did too.    

This is the view from the Hancock House Driveway.  You can see the spires of the city below edging close to the mighty Mississippi.  Across the River are Illinois and Wisconsin.

While in Dubuque, we visited Eagle Point Park at the northern edge of the city.  The park is 164 acres of beauty overlooking the Mississippi.  There is a river walk with fantastic views of the River and Wisconsin and Illinois across the River.  The park is dotted with gardens and stone and wood pavilions designed in the Frank Lloyd Wright style and built in the 1930's.  We saw several pavilions being used for family gatherings and weddings.  The picture above is lock and dam number 11 as seen from the riverwalk.    

One of the goals for our trip was to find locally owned coffee shops and to avoid the national chains.  I don't think we went to any Starbucks on this trip.  In Dubuque we went twice to Devour Cafe.  This was our favorite coffee stop over the full 4,000+ mile trip. They roast their own beans and the coffee (and food) were excellent.  Add to that the owner gave us a quick tour of the cafe furnishings which are loaded items salvaged from local buildings.   

Wayfarer Coffee also deserves mention along with its location.  They are in Dubuque's historic Millwork District, where block upon block of brick factories have been redeveloped with restaurants, retail and homes.  Wayfarer's coffee lags Devour by a mile, but there is a fantastic historical exhibit in the hallway outside Wayfarer that profiles many of the men and women who worked making windows, doors and other millwork.  The exhibit lines the walls of a hallway and chronicles the lives of factory workers in the 1940's and '50's -- the grinders and glaziers and men running the saws often putting in 55- hour weeks.

Toward day's end, we went to the Dubuque Star Brewery building which rests on the banks of the Mississippi and now home to offices, a museum and a very lively ground floor restaurant.  The weather was perfect, so we (along with many others) sat outside and enjoyed a glass of wine.  In the morning we would be off to our destination -- the Field of Dreams.  Little did I know, but big surprises were planned.  As I found out later, our two kids were on their way from California to join us. In the post-Covid summer of 2022, airline flights could be scarce. They had made it from LAX to Dallas and now they needed a connection to Cedar Rapids.  It was getting late and their mother was getting worried if not acting downright districted as we enjoyed our wine, the old Brewery building and River.  Would the kids make it?   

Road Trip to Field of Dreams - Day 6 - Denver, Colorado to Lincoln, Nebraska

Our sixth day on the road would be a long one -- 490 miles and near 7 hours of driving to get from Denver to Lincoln.  Most of those miles and hours would be in Nebraska.

 Above is the state welcome sign just over the Colorado/Nebraska border along Interstate 76.

I like the Nebraska sign.  It just makes you feel good to be entering the land of "the good life."  I have always wondered how to get to the good life.  Now I know.  

And, who doesn't like Arbor Day?  Big fan of trees here.   

It is kind of funny that the Nebraska good life sign is out in the middle of nowhere -- with brown/green fields as far as the eye can see.  Maybe that's part of the good life.  

Before getting out of Colorado, we stopped at Home Plate for breakfast.  On our way to FoD, how could we not stop here?  Home Plate is a just off the freeway in Fort Morgan and was busy with a lot of local folks.  It was a fun stop for us and gave us a small window into Fort Morgan life.   

One of our goals on this trip was to find good independent coffee places.  The Bristlecone in Cedar City had been a home run and, though I am sure Colorado is loaded with such places, we had struck out in the state.  

Our top Nebraska find was Black Sheep Coffee House.  Getting to Black Sheep was an adventure. We exited the Interstate and almost immediately were detoured onto a dirt road.  We travelled the dirt road passing farmhouses, trucks and row upon row of corn.  There was nothing to do but go forward on the dirt road until finally we came to Platteview Road, which thankfully was paved.   Platteview Road took us into the town of Springfield and a corner lot that supplied all your needs -- a Pit Stop gas station, Valentino's Pizza and Black Sheep Coffee.  Great coffee, friendly people.  Kind of the poster business for the Nebraska good life. 

 Our second great Nebraska find was Slow Lane Coffee in Ogallala.   Again, great coffee, friendly people and more.  Slow Lane is down the street from the Prairie Theater which is in the middle of a nicely preserved downtown.  Photos of lakes and trees on the walls.  On Spruce Street in the home of Arbor Day. Slow Lane. Nebraska good life.   

As we drove through Nebraska, there was just something calming about the state.  The state demanded nothing of us.  The place was green.  Farms. Corn.  Yet, there was human life out there, which we brushed up against at Black Sheep and Slow Lane and the experiences had been well .... kind of like a little taste of the good life.  

As we drove through Nebraska, we talked about the trip so far, what was coming up and a fairly big item that we had completely forgotten to plan -- how exactly were we going to get back to Pasadena from the Field of Dreams?  We had planned every day and every stop of our trip to Dubuque, Iowa. But, where to from there?  How do we get home?  Nada.  

So, we talked about how we might get back to Pasadena.  We could return the same way we came.  Then there was the northern route.  There was also a southern route.  We talked about each.  After a day's discussion rolling through Nebraska, we came to a definitive conclusion about our return -- we would take one of the three routes back home.  I was content with the indecision, my wife, the planner, not so much.

There were a few Nebraska places we had wanted to visit.  Fourth of July in the town of Seward was one we thought about and the timing was just not right.  Another stop we wanted to make was the University of Nebraska Dairy Store at the Lincoln campus where they sold ice cream, cheeses and meats all made by university students.  We just missed the 9 pm close.  Next time.

We stopped for the night in Lincoln.  The next morning I noticed we had parked next to a truck with an "OB" sticker.  I was excited that we might see someone from almost home, Ocean Beach ("OB"), San Diego, where I lived for a season.  Alas, the OB was Orange Beach in Alabama.  Orange Beach?

Tomorrow....... Iowa!!  

 

Road Trip to Field of Dreams - Day 4 - Glenwood Springs to Denver, Colorado

When we planned our trip, there were two dates we had to meet.  We had to be at the FoD on July 2 for the House Tour and Ghost Players and then had to be back to Pasadena by the 12th.  From there, we filled in dates and places.  We planned two days in Glenwood Springs, two days in Denver, and at least three days in Iowa.  No offense to Nevada, Utah and Nebraska, but those would be mostly drive through states.

Above is the National Ballpark Museum, one of the highlights of my time in Denver. More on that below.

Denver is 157 miles from Glenwood Springs.  The only direct route is on Interstate 70 which winds over and through the Rocky Mountains.  Along the way, the scenery is spectacular.  Leaving Glenwood Springs, the road winds through Glenwood Canyon, with the canyon walls on the left and Colorado River below and on the right.  This part of the Interstate was completed in 1992 and is said to be an engineering marvel because of the care taken to preserve the natural setting.  After the Canyon, the views range from meadows to forests to mountain peaks.  Not many Interstate drives are inspiring. This one is.

 
 The Eisenhower Tunnel traverses the Continental Divide at an elevation of more than 11,000 feet.   When built in 1973, it was the highest vehicular tunnel in the world.

Once on the eastern side of the Divide, there is more incredible mountain terrain, then a long downhill run into the Denver metro area. The area is reported to have bighorn sheep that sometimes can be seen from the road.  We stopped at a bighorn sheep viewing area near Georgetown.  It turned out to be near impossible to see any sheep since the sheep are on the other side of the highway high on a rocky mountainside.  "If you see a rock move, that's probably a sheep," we were told.  Not very satisfying if you really want to see a bighorn sheep.  We will need to try sheep viewing somewhere else.  Meanwhile, Georgetown had a cool train ride.  Maybe the train passengers saw sheep. 

So, what's there to say about Denver?

We had two nights and just one full day in the city. The first night, we met with friends (California expatriates) at T Street Roadhouse in a newer Lakewood neighborhood.  Highly recommend T Street. The next day I got to know Denver.  

Our hotel was near a light rail stop which made travel into downtown easy. Since I had never been to Denver, I took a guided Segway tour of downtown.  We covered a lot of terrain and cruised past many landmarks, including the Colorado State Capitol (above) and Confluence Park (below) where Cherry Creek joins the South Platte River.  We saw the Blue Bear (which was made in California), LoDo, Coors Field and our guide, though a bit laconic (bad trait for a tour guide), was able to manage some interesting city history.     

While on break from my Segway, I saw this lady who appeared lost in the sound of rushing of the water.  Every city should have places like this.

From here, our Segway tour headed right down the Cherry Creek trail, which unfortunately was a repository of broken bikes and other trash and was hardly an inviting path. 

More pleasing was the company I had on the tour.  I was joined by a father and son from Dayton, Ohio, who were touring major league baseball stadiums and were in town for the Rockies game.  I would bump into them again later at the National Ballpark Museum.  

The National Ballpark Museum is at 1940 Blake Street, just down the street from Coors Field, and is well worth a visit.  The place is a tour de force of one man, Bruce Hellerstein, who has assembled a fascinating and unique collection of baseball memorabilia.  I was fortunate Bruce was on hand to talk about some of the exhibits.  His enthusiasm for the game and its history is infectious.   

One of the truly captivating parts of my visit was seeing and holding an identical replica of Shoeless Joe Jackson's bat. The bat was different from modern bats with a thicker handle and much heavier weight. It is a barely tapered piece of wood lacking any kind of modern "barrel."  In fact, Jackson's bat weighed in at 48 ounces, whereas modern major leaguer's bats top out at about 35 ounces.  As Bruce pointed out, these old timers were strong guys.  Nicknamed Black Betsy for mass quantities of tobacco juice rubbed into it, Jackson's actual bat was reportedly sold on ebay in 2001 for half a million dollars.    

Our final night in Denver took us to Coors Field (with two more former Californians) to see the Rockies play our Dodgers. The Coors Field experience is just outstanding, from the light rail ride in, to the open-air mall and restaurants outside the stadium, to the field view.  As a bonus, toward the seventh inning, the sky opened up with rain and thunder and lightning.  The game continued without pause, but fans in the upper deck were told to exit due to lightning concerns.  We got a little wet but the Dodgers won. Perfect end to a long day in Denver.  

Road Trip to Field of Dreams - Day 2 - Cedar City, Utah to Glenwood Springs, Colorado

 

From Cedar City, we headed up Interstate 15 for about 70 miles then turned right onto Interstate 70 heading east.  Our destination for the day was Glenwood Springs, Colorado, which was 422 miles away or 6 hours of straight driving.  

Most of the day we traversed a high desert area known as the Colorado Plateau.  This is an area of Utah, Colorado, Arizona and New Mexico marked with fascinating rock formations and canyons.  The Grand Canyon, Bryce, Zion, Arches and the Petrified Forest (which we would visit on our way home) are part of the vast Plateau.   

There are several scenic stops along I 70, with names like Ghost Rock, Black Dragon and Sand Bench.  We stopped at an overlook of part of San Rafael Swell where I took the picture above. In some future trip, I would like to understand more about this area. I did learn this -- the term "swell" does not refer to a gentle wave at Huntington Beach, but rather to a massive upheaval of rock that occurred millions of years ago.  Also someone has figured out the San Rafael Swell resembles terrain on Mars, so there is a research center there that simulates life on Mars.   Maybe another day.

As interesting as the rock formations were, we were also fascinated by the Utah sky. Dark clouds were rolling in over the desert punctuated with lightning and thunder, all of which was fun stuff for a couple of southern California kids.  Soon we would be in the middle of a downpour. With wipers going full blast, we left the scenic stop and resumed our trip east.  

We passed out of Utah and continued into Colorado and up the western slope of the Rocky Mountains.  With the Colorado River running along-side I-70, we gradually gained elevation until we made it to Glenwood Springs, which sits at 5,761 feet.  

We stayed two nights at the Hotel Colorado, which dates back to 1893 and is on the National Historic Register.  The hotel has a fun history (including presidential visits from Teddy Roosevelt and William Taft) and the first-floor walls are lined with old photographs and memorabilia.  The hotel also lays claim to the original "teddy bear," which hotel staff formed of scraps of fine fabric and gave to President Roosevelt to raise his spirits when he returned from bear hunting empty handed.  One quirk about the Hotel Colorado though -- as wonderful as the hotel's first floor and courtyard were, our 4th floor room was on the Spartan side with a comically small bathroom, nothing on the walls, window hung a-c and funky wiring leading to a television. Apparently, the old hotel is being renovated, from the ground up and upper floors have not yet been addressed.   

Across the street from the hotel is the Glenwood Hot Springs Resort Pool, which they say is the world's largest hot springs pool.  The resort, which is pictured above, was fun and, had we spent more time there say with a good book, would have been very relaxing.  The setting is incredible with the redbrick of the resort buildings and mountain backdrop.  There are two pools -- a smaller pool with super-hot mineral water and the very large pool with warm mineral water.  A lot of families there. 

From the Hot Springs Resort, you can walk on a bridge that takes you over the I 70 freeway and Colorado River into the town of Glenwood Springs. The downtown is a very lively few blocks of restaurants and shops.  There is a Doc Holiday Museum at the corner of 8th and Grand.  The good doctor had a dual career (dentist and gunslinger) and had travelled to Glenwood Springs hoping the springs and vapors would cure his tuberculosis.  He died there in 1887. 

We had dinner at Glenwood Canyon Brewpub, which was excellent and a fun time. We were joined by dozens of hockey fans who were there to watch their Colorado Avalanche play for the Stanley Cup.  The Avalanche won and the Brewpub erupted. 

We had planned for two days, with some time at a mineral spa with vapor caves.  But, they were booked, and we were told that another place in town had closed during Covid and not reopened. So, we went with Plan B and drove 40 miles down to Aspen to see the John Denver Sanctuary.  It is truly a beautiful spot running along the Roaring Fork River.  Lyrics to several of Denver's songs are carved into large rocks along the trail. 

In another part of the John Denver Sanctuary the rocks contain thought provoking statements by others, including the one above from John Muir. 

Nearly dark, we headed back to Hotel Colorado where we got a glass of wine and enjoyed the hotel's courtyard with other guests.  

Road Trip to Field of Dreams - Day 1- Pasadena CA to Cedar City, Utah

Early Saturday morning, June 25, 2022, we headed out from Pasadena on our bucket list road trip to the Field of Dreams in Iowa.  Our first night's stop would be Cedar City, Utah, which according to google maps was 430 miles away and a 6-hour ten-minute drive.  

We were sailing along on the 210 east when, big surprise, we hit traffic.  What better way to depict our first travel day than California freeway traffic!  The jam here is going over the Cajon Pass down into Victorville.     

Aside from the traffic, our trip through the California desert was uneventful. Oh yeah, Barstow has a new Dutch Bros.  And I got a BOGO deal on shoes at the outlets there.  Regrettably the rest stop near Baker was closed. 

As we left California we followed this Ram truck, which according to its rear window is part of the exodus of Californians to other states.  Unlike the Ram, we would be returning to our home state, we just didn't know exactly when.  

Going over the Colorado River, we saw the water level was low. We knew that the next day, we would see the River again as we headed into the Rocky Mountains.  But, first, we had to cross southern Nevada, a nice bit of Arizona and a huge chunk of Utah.  

Cedar City is home to the Utah Shakespeare Festival.  We had tickets for opening night of King Lear and, due to traffic delays, we just made the 8 PM curtain.  The photo above was taken outside the open-air Englestad Shakespeare Theatre, which is part of a three-stage complex at Southern Utah University.  The setting is beautiful, and I think both of us would gladly return. The rendition of King Lear was very good. But the actors all wore masks, which unfortunately detracted from the performance.   

There are plenty of hotels near the university and we stayed at Baymont hotel on South Main Street, a nondescript almost clean place in walking distance of the Shakespeare Festival. 

More important, it was also in walking distance of our morning coffee find -- the Bristlecone at 67 West Center Street.  Bristlecone is in the middle of an interesting older downtown and it was fun to walk the streets.  Kind of a mix of coffee shop, restaurant, cool place and yoga studio, Bristlecone served up uncommonly good coffee, had healthy breakfast options and engaging friendly staff.  It was a great way to start the day. We sat outside to plan our day's trip but wound up playing Jenga and cornhole.  Bristlecone is highly recommended.  

Bucket List Road Trip -- Pasadena, California to Field of Dreams, Iowa

In March, I received the perfect birthday gift -- a bucket list road trip to the Field of Dreams in Dyersville, Iowa.  That's right. We were going to Iowa and I couldn't have been more excited.

Field of Dreams is the title of a 1989 Kevin Costner movie.  The movie site, including corn fields, baseball diamond and farmhouse, have been preserved, same as they were when the movie was filmed.  On their own, a corn field, ball diamond or farmhouse hardly warrant a 2,000- mile road trip.  But, add in the movie's magical stories of redemption spun around America's Pastime, family, and rich Iowa soil -- now that's another matter.  

      

When I told others of my bucket list road trip, I typically got two equally emphatic answers.  Many just didn't get it politely asking "where?" "what?" or "why?"  But, those who got it really got it and shared my excitement.  One wanted to go along (to which I said "no") another wanted to nominate my wife for sainthood (to which I said "yes").

Planning the trip, as they say, is half the fun and we took three months researching big cities, small towns, places to stay, coffee houses to visit, games to see, and the like.  The Internet is full of You Tubes and other posts recording visits to the Field of Dreams.  But, we found little documenting an actual road trip to the Field, much less a road trip from southern California to Dyersville, Iowa.  Who would do such a thing?  So, in the next few posts, I am going to address that glaring whole the Internet and talk a little about our trip, the stops we made and interesting places we saw.  

Just so you know, near simultaneous to our trip east, professional journalists were on their own road trip heading west to the Field of Dreams.  Truly elite baseball writers Sam Dykstra and Benjamin Hill started in New York and did their own road trip to Dyersville.  Dykstra's journal of the trip along with some beautiful photography is at Major League Baseball's site here.