Longest day yet

Clear Lake to Ingham Lake, Iowa Sunday , July 11, 2021

Hallelujah! The stars seemed to align on this Sunday morning, and indeed Mars and Venus were in conjunction above. I slept well, my caffeine withdrawal is largely done, and it was perfect weather today, with a fair wind and moderate temperatures. I was able to leave early and make it to the somber memorial in the cornfield before 9 o’clock.

It’s marked not by a sign but by an icon, Holly’s trademark Wayfarer glasses, recreated in steel and anchored to concrete posts. The stark effect is diluted somewhat by scores of glasses left as tribute.

The land is privately owned, and the farmer has been generous to allow tourists to cross the quarter-mile to the spot where the plane was found. I walked it with a family who had driven up that morning from St. Louis, en route to a Twins game in Minneapolis. Like my buddy Brian, they are trying to catch a ball game in every stadium in the country.

This is the shrine itself, really quite modest when taken in toto, although the individual elements are poignant.

I checked in with Jane, Eric, and Ellen as I walked out. I recall many discussions with Eric back in 1971, as we tried to decipher the lyrics of American Pie. I was there for a total of 45 minutes. One last footnote, the local newspaper article framed on the wall of the motel.

I talked for an hour and a half with sister Sarah, the English literature professor, and we explored my morbid fascination with the sites of these tragedies, both of our writing projects (my blog, her sabbatical), and how we felt about Dad’s recent passing. When we finally hung up, I saw I had covered 25 miles while we were talking. This trip has been enhanced by long conversations with both of my sisters, Anne in particular has a knack for reaching me at ideal times, like Lake Itasca and Music Man Square.

I mentioned to Sarah that I found the endless, mildly rolling cornfields around me, peppered by hundreds of wind turbines, to be not boring but somehow moving. She suggested I take pictures, but they just don’t capture it.

There was only one blot on this perfect day. Another bridge out, this one would necessitate a 9 mile detour (added to an 85 mile day), and I didn’t want to keep my warm showers hosts waiting that long.

I decided to just bull through it, crossing that muddy stream and moosing the bike up the steep rubble; I got filthy, I could have hurt myself, and it took half an hour anyway. Maybe not the wisest choice.

I got to Curt and Cindy’s lovely home on Ingham Lake at 7, and over dinner I learned how they had both retired from school teaching in Texas in their 50s, and returned to their native Iowa. They have a podcast encouraging people to make the most of their retirement, with big, active projects, and I hope to contribute to it when my trip is over.

Distance 85 miles, 3,708 total. Time 11 hours with stops. Elevation gain 1,845 feet.

©️ 2021 Scott Luria