Well, just for the record, I spent a wonderful afternoon in Iowa back in the
summer of 1972. <g> I had just received my motorcycle, shipped by the Army from
Ethiopia, and set out that summer on a trip around the country. Destinations
included Denver, Glacier National Park, Pacific Coast Highway, San Francisco,
Albuquerque, etc.
I crossed the Big River at Dubuque early in the morning and promptly ran into
one magnificent whale of a rainstorm. It was a real frog-choker. After plodding
along for what seemed like 156 hours in the downpour, sliding over to the edge
of the breakdown lane every time a semi thundered past, I gave up, pulled off
the Interstate, and checked into a motel. No sooner had I shed my soaking wet
clothing and put on something dry, the sky cleared, the sun came out, and the
day turned nothing short of perfect.
Too late to check out. The clerk told me Iowa didn’t have a helmet law. So I
decided to live dangerously and took off though the countryside, sans helmet,
feeling foolishly wicked. Spent hours just wandering through the corn on some
of the nicest two-lane roads I’ve ever had the privilege to ride on. It was a
wonderful little interlude, like I’d passed through the Faerie Gate or
something. Have had a weak spot for Iowa ever since, though I am always loathe
to admit it, especial on this list. <g>
--Bob Whitmire
Certified Neanderthal
On Feb 3, 2014, at 12:46 PM, Ken Norton <ken@xxxxxxxxxxx> wrote:
> What really grates my cheese is that Moose will contemplate a trip to
> KANSAS, but not IOWA.
--
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