TREMPÉ COMME UNE SOUPE!

06/18/2020

The atmosphere at Praire Rose State Park can put anyone's mind at ease. Everyone was incredibly kind and stopped by my camp to discuss my voyage. Many campers offered me gracious gifts, which I humbly accepted. Beer, cigarettes, firewood, and hotdogs, just to name a few. My camping neighbor even smoked me up with his homegrown kush. I sincerely surrendered to my slumber last night. After packing, I commenced my day by taking Rd M47 back to Street F58, routes I am already acquainted with. After several miles, I turned off onto Juniper Rd. My gravel riding skills were put to the test as a navigated through the beautiful backlands of Iowa. County Highway F66 was the next path that was taken, and the graveling continued. After nine miles of rocky roads, I arrived in the town of Shelby.

While passing through, I encountered a bike trail and followed it to The Cornstalk Cafe. This cafe doubled as a shell gas station, and it served as a superb refueling station. Breaking my fast for the day, I consumed one fish sandwich, one pepper jack cheese stick, and a coffee. Feeling energized, I crossed over Interstate 80 and continued south along 385th street. Knowing that I was going to spend the next three days on a train, I decided to add some extra mileage to the agenda. Backtracking from the intended route, I traveled ten miles roundtrip to Avoca. It is definitely not because I took a wrong turn.

Anyways, I took Tamarack Ave in the proper direction, which landed me in Miden. Here is where I encountered my first-ever bowling cafe. Truthfully, I was unaware that this business concept existed. It was quite charming. The coffee was passable by all means, and the bowling alley had six lovely lanes. If I lived in a town of six hundred people, that would certainly be my hangout spot. After a little chat with the owner and the completion of my coffee and fries, I returned to the road.

Tamarack continued for several miles, and then I turned onto Railroad Highway 20. It had been partly cloudy and cool for the majority of the ride, but you could feel it changing. Winds began to blow brutally, at roughly twenty miles per hour. The dark storm clouds crept closer and closer as I pedaled into the headwind. Inevitably, the storm started. The first ten minutes were hazardous because the rain was coming down relentlessly. It was coming down in ropes. It was raining cats and dogs. It was surely storming baby. With no refugee insight, I accepted my fate and screamed at the sky, "that's all you fucking got!?" Luckily this deadly downpour only lasted for about ten minutes. The wind dissipated, and the rain diminished to a light shower. Thanks to nature's natural shower, I felt rejuvenated, refreshed, and replenished.

Shocking to most, this was the most enjoyable part of my trip thus far. Roughly ten miles later, as I arrived in Council Bluffs, the rain came to an end. I hate to bash an Iowan community, but I felt awfully unsafe while passing through. The sidewalks were shotty, and the cars were not biker friendly. Despite this minor grievance, I successfully reached the pedestrian bridge connecting to Omaha, Nebraska. It was a big beautiful bridge that elegantly stretched over the Missouri River. Seriously an extraordinary way to enter a city.

After a quick phone call, I received my next destination, Lotus House of Yoga. Unfortunately, I chose the worst route to reach this yoga studio. I took Cumin St out of downtown, which was littered with various tire-popping debris. There was broken glass, cracked sidewalks, and fallen construction signs. Nevertheless, seven miles later, I find this monumentally modern burrow deemed as Aksarben. Today's sanctuary is brought to you by Mary Claire, who is my next-door neighbor's daughter. She owns several yoga studios in Omaha and let me commandeer this one for an evening of relief.

Finally, I thoroughly purified my body with a hot shower. After my shower, there were still a few hours to kill before the amtrak departed. During this peaceful period, I was able to catch up on wifi-required tasks. Through word of mouth, I learned that Amtrak is infamously late and never arrives on time. Anticipating this tardiness, I discovered that you could track your train online. It was thirty minutes behind, and I decided that I could relax just a little longer before making the trek back downtown. As I worked on various things, I continually checked the status of the train. After the Creston station, the thirty-minute delay changed to a six-minute delay. I packed my equipment hastily and rushed out the doors.

The literal second I stepped outside, small droplets of rain began to fall. This time I found a more suitable route back into town, going through a more residential part of town. There was no time to spare. I sped through the rain with exceptional execution. At this moment, I became one with my bike. We were one single entity. When you get a new bike, it takes time to become familiar with it. You must create a command over the gears, the breaks, the physics, etcetera. As a misty drizzle fell over me, everything clicked. Lighting occasionally lit the sky, and thunder cheered me on as I raced to the station. After five miles of biking through the previously unknown streets of Omaha, I arrived at the station. Check out my route here. Perhaps I can get some sleep on this tremendous train.