Olympic Cows, and Other Stories . . .

First off, I should assure people that we are having a fantastic time. Not everything has gone according to plan – but that’s kind of the whole point. Otherwise we would just bike around Lake Harriet over and over again. Pleasant ride. No surprises. Anything goes wrong and home is right around the corner. 

This trip is about surprises and the challenges of figuring out what to do when the Camp Host says there is no tent camping . . . 

And, really, it wasn’t that bad to stay in a hotel and eat at the Mexican restaurant next door. Nor was it really that bad to get a little wet on the first day. We did eventually dry off . . .

So far, today has been the most “normal” day of our trip. 

A lot of pleasant riding through rolling farmland. 

A few things worth mentioning . . .

First, the Olympic Cow.

So, we’re biking along and we had just remarked on a pretty valley with a few head of cattle that looked like they had a great life when we come across a disconsolate-looking cow – on the wrong side of the fence. Or, I guess, maybe she thought she was on the right side – but she did look pretty down in the brow . . .

We stop to take a picture – and just then a woman pulls up in a Subaru. 

“How many are out?” she asks, as if we work on this farm regularly.

”Uh, we just saw the one. Are they your cows?”

”Oh, good. They are such a pain.”

”How will you get it back in?”

”Normally my husband does that, but he just got mangled – or beat up – by a bull. I guess I’ll get the neighbors to help me . . .”

We start heading down the road, thinking the conversation – and the show – was over. But as we start riding, she drives the Subaru right into the cow – with that peeling out sound that teenagers make when they’re trying to show off – and then starts beeping at the creature like she’s a taxi driver in Manhattan.

The cow is stunned into action – and this is where the Olympic part comes in; she hurdles the barbed wire fence without even a running start. I had no idea these bovine creatures could be so agile. Stand aside Sydney McClaughlin-Levrone. Daisy Spotted-Guernsey is coming for you!

And as for the Subaru owner, she clearly doesn’t need her failed matador husband. These farm people know how to handle their animals. No gentle persuasion with a pretend leash. Drive your Subaru right into the cow. She either moves or she’s dead . . .

Side note here. Pop quiz. Who knew that Diana was originally going to be a veterinarian? She always admired her Dad – who was a veterinary pathologist in New York City. But when Diana showed up at Vet School at Cornell the animals were not cute gerbils with maybe a small cat thrown in for good measure – the types of animals her Dad saw in his practice in the City. No, these were real farm animals – maybe 700 pound hogs, say – and Diana’s classmates were younger versions of the Subaru driver: they didn’t F around trying to convince an animal to move with a little crooning . . .

Two weeks into school Diana’s first practical assignment was flipping sheep. The young farm girls were not daunted. They went up, grabbed the sheep forcefully, and flipped them right over. No hesitation. No sentimentality. 

Diana, well, let’s just say she wasn’t as tough then as she is today. She gingerly touches the sheep. But, of course, farm animals can smell fear, and her sheep wasn’t going to allow some soft City girl to flip her . . .

Diana claims that it was a fresh sheep. Otherwise she would have flipped it right over . . .

But the next week she decided to become a human doctor . . .

Sorry. Back to our regularly scheduled broadcast. 

The rest of the day? No CUJO and Friends. 

Instead, we had some slow motion challenges. 

Maybe best described through the scenery. Definitely fewer trees down here. Which makes for some pretty scenes. And the windmills are super cool. We biked through an area where they just dominated the landscape. 

(On that note, I can’t figure out why these farmers are not Democrats. Here they are, getting paid umteen dollars for leasing their land to the Green New Deal, and yet they have Trump signs up in their yards. Hello? Do you know how all this works?)

Anyway, while windmills are super cool, from a biker perspective it is maybe instructive to think about why they are here in the first place. 

Because it is windy here!

In case you didn’t know, I’ll tell you. It is not super awesome to bike into the wind . . . So we had that to deal with. And expecting more over the next few days as we make our way across the Great State of Iowa.

Diana’s hamstring? Not perfect, but like I thought – she persevered. We just had to be a little careful not to push the pace on climbs and we had to be a little extra careful on the occasional stretch of gravel. 

Beautiful campsite on a human-made lake in Riceville, Iowa. That’s right. We crossed the border. Goodbye Minnesota. Hello Corn Fields!

The only real problem for the day? Turns out there aren’t that many people living down here – and even fewer services. So we had our second Dollar General Dinner (first was last year in the UP – on our way to Toronto). Not gourmet – and not as good as the Aldi Dinner we had planned yesterday – but it was fine. 

Oh, and one other thing, after seeing the horse and buggy signs along the way during the day today, we finally found actual Amish people at our campsite. More mysteries there. Why all the horse and buggy signs? After all, they all seem to be driving Super-Sized Ford F-150s. 

I guess at least we know we can get a ride if we really need one. But someday someone is going to have to explain Amish and Mennonite theology to us. Our impression is that the general rule is that the women have to wear uncomfortable dresses and bonnets and have lots of babies, and the men can do whatever they want. Confusing . . .

Next stop: Cedar Falls, Iowa – not to be confused with Cedar Rapids, which you might actually have heard of . . .