In spite of my premonitions that I would have a bad night it passed by uneventfully, although I did wake up before 6 a.m. It was one of the most humid days I have ever experienced; it was like a blanket enveloping everything. I had to wipe down my bicycle it was so wet. The campground was at peace—probably everyone sleeping off last nights efforts—as I cycled out I even saw a couple of people sleeping on and under a picnic table.

As I cycled out of Centerville I noticed a sign which said that it was originally called Centreville but they changed the name. It is enigmatic to me why it is that Americans have trouble with French words that have ‘re’ and instead are transposed to ‘er’. For example, the measurement metre is called meter here in America. Confusing since meters are usually measurement instruments.

The terrain was relatively flat and I made good time. It is like much of what I’ve cycled through recently; lots of farms and cornfields. There is not much else to see in this part of Iowa! I stopped in the town of Bloomfield and had a cold drink at a petrol station and a Danish for breakfast. It was already in the high 20’s and I knew it would be a hot day. The town square was delightful with one of the most ornate court houses that I have yet seen. The square was full of people having a pancake breakfast run by the Rotary Club. It was an annual 4^th July affair which they were having early due to there being a reunion in the town. It was very well attended but as I saw several very obese people approaching I thought ‘there go all the profits’.

There was a phone booth in town and I called Tim Standish who is up in Michigan. I’m not sure if I will go through their part of the state, but I will not know until I get a better map. Tim is off to Australia in a day for three weeks holiday so I will unfortunately miss him. He told me of a good cycle route from Washington D.C. which is very tempting … we will see how things develop.

Today was the first day for a week when the wind was not a headwind. In Bloomfield the road I was following headed SE which would have meant a wind so I decided to follow J40 which was continued due East. This proved to be a good choice as there was almost no traffic. It was also called a ‘Scenic Route’, and this it was … if one considers more cornfields and farms to be scenic (which I do).

As I cycled along I saw several Amish travelling in their horse-drawn carriages. The carriages were uniformly black and the occupants wore what best could be described as old fashioned clothes. The elderly men had long, white beards which reminded me of photos I have seen of the early pioneers. The only modern convenience I saw were bright safety triangles placed in the back of the vehicle and battery operated lights. Some carriages had sliding doors which meant that they would be fully enclosed in winter; probably a good thing. I motored by one of them going in the same direction so I can say that I am faster than a one-horsepower, fully loaded Amish carriage. It was packed to the gunnels with the family; father, mother and four young children.

I had been advised to visit Lacey State Park and it was good advice. The park was resplendent with lots of trees and it was a pleasure to cycle through the greenery. It reminded me a lot of the parks in Toronto, but much denser. The road led me to a large river which proved to be the Des Moines river. The place had a historical marker that this point was known as Ely Ford and was where the Mormons crossed the river during their trek west. The river is about 200 m wide here and it must have been some feat crossing it with thousands of people and wagons! There was a couple in a 1931 Ford pickup truck who had passed me earlier. It had a really neat horn which went whaoooooah. Much more pleasant than the modern horns!

After recharging my water bottles I left the party and went to Keosauqua. This was a lovely town located on the banks of the river. Being Sunday it was deserted except for a couple of restaurants. With 4^th of July approaching the town was bedecked in American flags. I had a cold drink and sat in the park enjoying the beauty of the area.

From there it was further east. The road took me through the historic towns of Bentonsport and Bonaparte. The latter was especially interesting as it was another of the crossing points of the Mormons. One hundred and fifty years ago this was a busy town with several mills, but today it is, like many others, barely hanging on. There was a café and after another cold drink and taking advantage of their air conditioning I went onwards. While there I received advice on which route to take and it was pretty well along my original route.

One aspect of cycling touring is that it is much like war: there are long periods of boredom interspersed with some excitement and this summarised the afternoon. It was hot, humid and sunny. I felt like I had been swimming at times. I stopped in West Point and sat in the petrol station, had a drink and cooled down. Then it was back out to the oven—it was over 35 degrees—to continue my battle.

It was up and down and the miles passed by. Soon I had joined the main highway near the Mississippi and was on my final leg to Burlington. I was stuffed and stopped by the road and had an energy bar. A policeman stopped to see if I needed help and we had a good chat. His name was Tobias and he was, like most people I’ve met, very friendly. He asked a probing question: ‘are you doing this for fun??’. Good question. The second question was ‘how do you get more than 2 weeks off’. I’ve heard that one before! He had some N.Z. friends in college and was most pleased to meet up with me. He gave me his card and said if I had any problems to give him a call.