Chapter 7 Terra Incognita and the town with a friendly cop

In the morning I cross the bridge to Iowa, now beyond my home state and our familiar cheesehead neighbors. It finally feels like I am beyond reach of rescue in a land of Terra Incognita. They call themselves Hawkeyes here. The town on the opposite shore is Marquette.  It is a classic rivertown with steep streets, historic red brick building and charming shops.  For me it is the home of Qwik-Stop, my lunch revue of choice.  Actually these places offer a reasonable selection of healthy foodstuffs including salads, sandwiches and of course beef jerky. I would starve without these life sustaining convenience chains. The guide book tells me that for the first time the MRT has hills starting in northern Iowa.  It is right. I immediately ascend a hill at the edge of town that climbs 600 feet to the farmland above. It's too steep to bike up and Murphy is walking up whether he likes it or not. So we both walk up. The weather has changed to hot and muggy.  We are pretty miserable and my clothes are soon soaked with sweat.  The climb is rewarded with a descent that is so steep I fear my brakes will ignite as I ride them to keep the speed down.  Repeat this 3 more times this day and we  finally drag ourselves into Gutenberg, Iowa, the town with a friendly cop. Gutenberg is right on the river and is maybe about 2,000 population. The only place still open on a Sunday night when I arrive is the "Dam" bar home to folks who apparently have no home life.   The town police officer is at the bar so I ask her any ideas for camping in town.  This approach defuses being discovered later that night.  She says it is not permitted but "as long as you are not visible I am not going to look for you".  She adds "by the way we never had this conversation". Eventually, she suggest down by the sewage plant at the end of town.  She admits that sounds horrible but I should check it out.  I do and it turns out to be perfect- dark, remote and concealed behind a utilitarian building out of view.  There is the hum of electrical equipment that lulls us to sleep until some automatic pump kicks on that sounds like a giant vacuum cleaner.  It only lasts a couple minutes along with a faint sewer smell every hour or so.  I get used to it.

Home sweet sewage pump station

Yard art in Gutenburg, IA