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Published: July 26th 2010
Entry Three: Iowa City, Iowa (depart 3 p.m.) to Red Wing, Minnesota (arrive 11 p.m.) Miles driven: 606 (309 Friday, 27 Sat.) If You Build It…They Look for It. And not find It... Where the F* is this M-fer?!
After the 3 hour blogging process, Sophie the dog and I left Iowa City, heading northeast with the goal of hitting the Great River Road, which parallels the Mississippi River. After traveling for 2 hours north, I was looking at my trusty Readers Digest (who’da thunk?!) Road Atlas and noticed an attraction dot 10 miles north of Dyersville, Iowa that read “Field of Dreams.” Now, I was conflicted. I was getting a late start (3 p.m.) and had only been on the road for 2 hours. Plus, the “set” for Kevin Costner’s yawn about old, dead baseball players returning to life to play baseball on an Iowa cornfield was not something that I was particularly interested in seeing (especially if the current owners were to try and squeeze, say, $10 outta’ me). In fact, I think that I snoozed through the flick (it moves slower than an actual baseball game). However, it is a novel notion, and already
passing up the chance to see the National Motorcycle and the National Farm Toy museums, and since I was in the area (and would probably never be here again…)
Decision made. I would devote an hour to see this Field of Dreams. I jumped on Hwy 20, heading east, but did not see the Y13/C63 exit (note to Iowa and Wisconsin road namers: Placing a random letter in a road name = trouble!). Surprised that there was not a billboard announcing what was sure to be the most exciting thing happening amongst rows, rows and rows of (genetically modified) corn, I drove another 10 miles to Epworth and headed north up an unnamed road into the town of Barkston. Still seeing no signs, I headed back west towards Dyersville, sure to hit the spot (the red dot on the map was right next to this particular road!). No dice—where the F* was Kevin Costner and this stupid Field of Time Waster?! I finally ran into my original traveling road: 136 North, not having seen anything resembling a baseball field. Total extra miles: 48. Total time wasted: 70 minutes.
Since I couldn’t see the field, you cannot either.
Field of Dreams: Part One
Close your eyes and memorize this image. Then, meld it with the following one.Therefore, in the below photographs, I’ve posted one of a cornfield and one of a baseball field. To imagine the image for yourself, stare at the baseball field photo for 15 seconds. Then, stare at the cornfield photo for 15 seconds. Then, quickly close your eyes and meld these two images together. Voila!
At Milville, Ia., the “Great River Road” joins up with the Mississippi River. Of course, the river is massive; to me, it seems over a mile wide. Tall bluffs, remnants of past erosion, form its banks and small towns dot the landscape on both sides. Several turnouts provide excellent photo opportunities. Above Prairie du Chien, the Effigy Mounds National Monument offers numerous 10,000 year old earthen Indian mounds, created along the banks to be viewed from above. The stacked-dirt mounds vary in height and length from 10 feet long to over 100 feet long and from 3 feet high to 8 feet high. Jennifer and I visited here a few winters ago and hiked all around the area, viewing birds (Bald Eagles) at the various locks and dams that have been built along the river. It’s well worth a weekend trip, as the mounds are
historically amazing.
Bootleg Camping Much of Southeaster Minnesota is designated State Forest, and four state parks line the banks of Hwy 61, the famous north-south blues highway. By 11 p.m., having driven all day, I was exhausted. I decided to camp at Frontenac State Park in Red Wing, Mn. However, after taking the Park’s exit and driving 1.5 miles towards the campground, a sign at the gate read “Campground Full.” Such are the pitfalls of no-itinerary/no National Forest availability camping.
The 6 walk-in sites were also full, the grassy parking lot displayed very detailed records of number of vehicles and people, license plate numbers, number in party, number of pets, etc. I was in a quandary, as I was absolutely tired. After surveying the wooded area around the parking area, I decided that I would camp illegally 20 yards off the end of the parking lot. I took all the bins out of the truck to find my small backpacker’s tent, grabbed my sleeping pads and bag, and walked 5 minutes into the woods. I had squeezed my vehicle between two single vehicles in the hopes that any Rangers/police would not notice a vehicle past the last
#6 spot.
To leave little/no environmental impact, I picked a spot near the base of a small tree. Then, the next frustrating challenge arose when I could not successfully erect the tent! The small tent has two poles, and, try as I might, I could not figure out how to erect the tent. I ended up pulling Sophie into the unstaked and unpoled shell of the tent (it was like a mesh bag). I used the foam bedrolls to support the head-end of the tent. Sophie, looking nervous, laid on my bag, rendering it of no use to me. I tossed and turned, getting paranoid of mosquito bites (there were many constantly swarming around us the entire time out there). I tried my best not to let any part of my body touch the mesh, but still suffered some bites. The loud buzzing, only inches from my ears, wasn’t too soothing, either. In addition, I was absolutely paranoid that a Ranger/police would discover the vehicle and/or us. Fitful sleep from 12:30 a.m. followed. Next, it turned wet and cold. I was in shorts and a T-shirt, and was very cold and uncomfortable. I decided my series of 3
one-hour naps would have to do, and we left the park at 5:15 a.m., just as the sun was rising.
Duluth Dylan Dreams I filled my humongous T.A. (Travel America) mug with coffee and continued north, bypassing St. Paul and driving up the very pleasant Hwy 35. Minnesota is very green; fir and pine forests line the interstate. Sophie the dog and I were heading to what Minnesotans call the “North Shore,” which contains the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness in the Northeast corner of the state.
At the southern end of Lake Superior, which, at 350 miles long and containing 10%!o(MISSING)f the world’s freshwater, borders Duluth, Mn. to the east. Approaching the end of the hilly terrain, one can see an expansive view of this town of 90,000. It certainly has the “river industrial” feel of Pittsburgh or Knoxville. Having never been there, I stopped at the travel/information center and picked up some Duluth propaganda. I decided on 3 activities: Viewing singer Bob Dylan’s old house, viewing a Dylan exhibit at the Fitger Beer Museum, attending and art fair at Park Point, and visiting the Tweed Museum on the University of Minnesota campus. But,
Near Prairie du Chien, Iowa
From inside this resteraunt, Jennifer and I spied (and retrieved) $13 from the banks of the Mississippi thus, the best-laid plans are often a bit disappointing. Although the town is charming, the “exhibit” of Dylan turned out to be a couple of photos of him (and his former teenager-year household), the art fair, although listed for this date in Duluth Travel Guide, was non-existent, and the Tweed Art Museum did not open until 1 p.m. (I arrived there at 12). Highlights did include a wonderful time at the beach of Park Point, a sandy extension into the lake (dogs are actually allowed, a rarity for a beach). Sophie and I went swimming, which felt great, even though the water was only 40 degrees. There must be a lot of people dying in this town, as I visited 3 estate sales. It was both fascinating and creepy to, as a traveler, instantly gain access to all aspects of old people’s homes.
I also went to the street that Dylan’s now-razed house sat, and saw the hospital in which he was born. The Duluth Armory, in which Dylan saw Buddy Holly’s last show (rumored to spark his interest in music), still stands, although it’s bordered up. The town of Duluth lays claim to Dylan’s beginnings, but, in most accounts,
he was anxious to leave town, and did so at age 18.
Like America’s greatest poet, I was anxious to leave as well. Sophie the dog and I left, again heading northeast up Hwy 61—now called the North Shore Highway.
Highlights: Swimming in Lake Superior in Duluth, seeing Dylan’s hallowed grounds, photo opportunities in Duluth.
Lowlights: Not being able to set up backpackers tent in dark, Campground sold out, didn’t eat dinner, tired and grumpy!
Question for blog readers (add your opinion through the “comments button”):
Although I curse, you may have notice that I don’t curse in the blog (F*, etc.). Do you feel that I should continue this conservative practice? Or let the expletives fly?
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