Thunder, lightning, heavy rain and wind awoke us. So un-California, but then, we're in Iowa. Great city, Ames. And Midwestern people continue to make us transients so welcome.
 |
| Eastbound on US 30 entering the Big Rain |
Eastbound from Ames on the original US 30, AKA the Lincoln Highway, we're enveloped in our first serious rain, but it's welcome. The coach is being heavenly washed. Dirt disappears. Windshield obliterating bugs are cleaned for their sanitized entry to bug heaven without my earthly scrubbing. How much better can it get for us road warriors who have major world- viewing windows?
Grain hauling big rigs flew by, route numbers changed with every curve, but we remained on the original US 30 until finally connecting with the present 4-lane version, exiting to the Cedar Rapids Airport where Doris acquired our Avis Ford Focus, a favorite rental. It actually had automatic door locks & windows ... with a free day thrown in because I once was an important, Preferred Avis Client. Through some blinding rain, we finally found The Amanas, several towns that also have a flat, meadow-like RV park. Giving us the best site (they said), they also gave me the opportunity to get drenched while connecting to water, sewer and electricity. Whoopee! At least, I didn't experience a Ben Franklin kite-flying experience.
Changing from soggy to dry clothes, I then drove my favorite wife to a most tasty lunch in one of the many Amanas. Amana, West Amana, HIgh Amana, Middle Amana, East Amana, South Amana ... even Amana itself, constitute the Amana Colonies of Iowa. Apparently, the persecuted the Community of True Inspiration, along with the Old Order of Amish, were too busy living in ultimately unacceptable communal living conditions while eluding their persecutors to think of more novel village names like Keokuk, Crazy Woman, or East Los Angeles, etc. Hurray for them. I don't particularly care for those, especially after wandering (lost?) among the Amanas. Unlike Pennsylvania's more touristy Penn Dutch country that preceded some of the original Amana inhabitants, these towns host shops that are unpopulated and somewhat untouristy. Out of respect, or succumbing to the local charm, I think we bought something of quality in every shop that we stumbled into.
Especially the restaurant. Ummhmmmummhum! Great German-inspired food (the Amish and Community of True Inspiration had their roots in Germany) kept us from spinning into the stratosphere as cyclonic storms continued to do our laundry while still wearing our clothes. Our spirits are yet to be dampened in mid-America. .
Tomorrow? Further exploration into the Amanas. Perhaps we'll find the elusive non-Amana brand air conditioner or refrigerator, a real challenge in this part of the world because these items are actually produced. I'll take a picture for you if we find a traitor. Meantime, tonight, we slumber to the sound of pounding rain, cooled in this.warm, humid climate by our beloved air conditioners.
No comments:
Post a Comment