Hi Gram,
I spent a few weeks in Illinois getting some stuff done, then was so very excited to get on the road and start my summer road trip that I’ve had planned for a few months. I used to just get on the highway and push through to wherever I was going. As I got older and more broken, I still had that mentality to push through, but I had to stop often to stretch my legs and back, get the blood pumping, and take a break. It finally occurred to me a year or so ago that if I just tell the GPS to avoid the interstates, it would route me along country roads and through small towns. Instead of taking frequent breaks at truck stops, I could take frequent breaks in cute little towns with parks, libraries, and real restaurants. With that in mind, I headed west excited to get out to Denver for friends and nature.

I passed through Peoria and stopped briefly to stretch my legs, but my first stop was in Astoria, IL, a cute little town. I parked my car near the town center park with a gazebo and benches and started out on a walk. I meandered through a neighborhood up and down streets until I got back to the town square.

I continued on, listening to some podcasts and counting the rows of corn until I came to my next stop in Centerville, IA. It felt like it was smack in the middle of the state and it had a wonderful little square in the center of town. I liked the way it was laid out; there was a courthouse in the center with grass surrounding it. Then there was a one way street looping around with parking on either side and another one way street going the other direction with parking on either side lined by a row of shops on each side of this gigantic square. I don’t know if I’m describing it well, but I wish every town had a town center like this. I imagine they could easily block off the streets and have a massive festival.

I made a sandwich and sat on a bench on the courthouse lawn, then walked around a looked in the windows of the shops lining the square. You could tell they really took pride in the wares they were selling and their town overall. The people I passed greeted me with a smile and I learned a little of their history.

I next stopped in Red Oak, IA where I found a hotel for the evening. I did my brain exercises, which I realized that I’d forgotten to do when I got up that morning, then lounged around the room a little before going to sleep. The bed was uncomfortable and the pillows were miserable, making me realize that I’d left my pillow in Illinois. I woke up with a crick in my neck and what felt like a pulled muscle in my back, a pain that would last for almost a week. The breakfast that the hotel offered was meager, so I loaded up the car and headed to Hy-Vee to get some yogurt. Standing over my hood eating my breakfast, I saw a line forming at “Da Bin Store” next door. As the line kept getting longer, an employee came out with donuts for the patient customers, then another employee followed with napkins. My curiosity got the better of me, so I walked over and asked an old man with no teeth why there was such a line. He told me he didn’t know what the store was, but it was a new store and everyone was excited to find out.

Done with my breakfast but not curious enough to stick around and see what this bin store was all about, I got back on the road headed towards Omaha to see my friend, Alex. A few hours later, we met at Chalco Park, a large park near his house. He brought his roller blades and my bike was on the back of my car, so we geared up and took a leisurely ride around the lake as we caught up on life and stories. Back at the cars, we cooled down and chatted for another hour before going our separate ways.

Monica gave me a good podcast to listen to about paying attention to what brings us joy every day and showing gratitude, a philosophy that I wholeheartedly agree with. I listened to a few more podcasts and music, then rolled into McCook, NE for the evening. I passed the hotel where I planned to stay before doubling back to where the GPS told me to go. Wary, I walked inside to see if this was really a hotel. I’m sure it used to be a furniture store or maybe a car dealer when it was built, but the clerk told me that it’s been a hotel since she was a kid and she’s lived here for over forty years.

The rooms were laid out in an odd pattern and the inside of my room was unlike any I’ve ever seen. It had all the parts you’d expect in a hotel room, but laid out to fit the shape that they were given. As I sat on the bed, I instantly longed for the crappy bed I’d had the night before. Hotels are always a gamble, but I’d gotten two progressively worse beds in a row. This one was an old spring style mattress and was probably the original bed from when the building was converted to a hotel 40+ years ago. I sank almost to the floor and considered pulling the sheets and blanket off the bed and sleeping on the floor. When I got up in the morning, I just laughed when I saw the shower. Now, I am not a tall man. I’m not really picky. This showerhead, however, was at my shoulders. I felt like I had stepped into a world of elves and asked to use their shower. In these situations, you can grumble and complain about it or you can laugh and make the best of it. You can probably guess which route I took.

After the disappointing shower, I was pleasantly surprised by the breakfast spread. There were pancakes, sausage, and english muffins that all tasted much better than anticipated. I probably ate too much breakfast before heading back to the room and packing up. My friend has a son whose name matches the local airport, so I went and took a picture to show them. The airport looked empty when I got there, which was convenient because nobody stopped me from taking some pictures.

I got in a walk through their downtown before hitting the road and counted six churches on my short walk. Many of the shops were closed, leading me to believe the town was suffering at first. Then I remembered that it was Sunday and they probably just hadn’t opened so the townsfolk could spend their time at the multitude of churches. I stopped at the George W Norris Home for some pictures and a rest before heading back to the car to get along my way.

I stopped a couple times on the drive to Denver, but just at rest areas and pull-off areas as there weren’t many towns that lasted more than a couple blinks of the eye. I checked into a Super8, unpacked some stuff, and rested my back. I was grateful to have a decent bed for once an even almost enjoyed hearing the rain outside. Denver has been having a weird summer with rain rolling through almost every afternoon briefly. Everything is very lush, which is a welcome change to everything being dry and catching fire. I met up with Jenni for dinner at The Spice Room, an Indian restaurant in her neighborhood. It was great to catch up and the food was out of this world. As I often do at Indian restaurants, I ate too much and left with a full and happy belly. I headed back to the hotel and quickly fell asleep.