Day 22 – July 8th

Pedaling in rhythm with the amphibian chorus that was cheering me on, I departed Fremont and began another voyage upon my always enthusiastic Trek. Having received another inch of God’s tears, the water soaked land was once again saturated beyond capacity and I knew there was more hanging out there. With storm cells north and south of the route today, I wondered how many miles it would take before the cells converged on me and turned my pleasant ride into a treacherous misery. However, fortune was with me as the cycling gods took mercy and today’s ride was dry start to finish. Even a bigger surprise was in store for my dual wheeled trip; that damnable wind took a turn for the better! Instead of berating me incessantly, as it has done on so many days of this endeavour, it decided to help propel me on these Iowan roads. A tailwind; it’s a cyclists biggest dream. While the wind wasn’t blowing overly hard, to have it at my back was a welcome change. Joyous tears once again stream down my face as I write these words; I still can’t come to terms with this reality.

The 125 mile ride today was quite possibly the easiest ride of the trip; there were no big climbs, no vicious breeze, and the temperature remained under 82 for the rides entirety. What are the odds of getting that much fortune on one roll of the dice? Though the little pessimist which resides in us all, the one I had hoped was buried deep, can't help but whisper “Use all your luck now, and you may come to regret it…..” For the present time I’ll ignore that demon and count my blessings; tomorrow and its tidings will come in due course.

The scenery today was akin to the last couple of days; anther paddle of pedals across Iowa’s land ocean of green. Corn and soybean dominated the landscape as usual, with the infrequent farm and cattle ranch. Quite a few times today, when passing hog farms or being passed by cattle trucks, a whiff of dung beetle heaven wafted my way. While it’s a scent familiar to me from childhood, I’m not nearly as fond of it as it seems to be of me. I wish we could cease our encounters and both go on our happy way; as long as I remain in the Midwest I fear that longing will end in futility.

The highlight today came after the bike had been put away, and I was unwinding at Bob Loch’s beautiful abode. For the last week I have been praying to the stars above that one of the hotels we stayed in would come equipped with a hot tub or Jacuzzi; my prayers have gone unanswered so far. Upon arriving in Bettendorf, Iowa I was informed that Bob had a whirlpool that I could use if I so desired. I figured my legs deserved the reward, so I partook in the tub and got to relax the muscles a bit. Oh but it gets better; did I mention that Bob has a TV in his bathroom and not too far away is a fridge stocked with beer? So not only did I get to soak my road weary legs, but I did it while sipping some barley nectar and watching the Tour De France. Heaven you say? Well, who am I to argue...