The Earth is Flat

      I drove west on the Calumet Expressway from Indiana into Illinois this morning. As the distinctive skyline of downtown Chicago hove into view I was ready to experience a wave of nostalgia remembering the times the family saw the same view years ago while returning from the Indiana State Dunes. Nostalgia was not forthcoming, even when signs pointed the way to Hyde Park. I realized that I’m not one for nostalgia. Chicago served its purpose of raising me and, poof, no more need for it. I feel the same about my cars, my bikes, and even my house. Thirty-two years of occupancy and then it gets torn down. I think I’m expected to feel something about that, but I don’t. It was just another tool that had served its purpose.
      I left New York City with my first cold in two years. I realized that all the time I had tended to
Kathy I had been in peak health, the top of my game. Mind over matter? Fortunately, this cold was mild and disappeared as soon as I started playing in the waters of New Hampshire. I swam (well), kayaked 
(okay) and declined to standup paddleboard (poorly). I also swam in Long Island Sound. I was a beachball bouncing around the Northeast. First Mystic, Connecticut, home of pizza and coming-of-age  
movies and, most importantly, a laundromat to wash my clothes. Then on to Bow Lake, New Hampshire, where I met up with family and some nice folks who will be at the wedding that I will miss in August. Then back to Connecticut, specifically Old Lyme, to see the beach house a friend just bought and to help offload an overweight armoir. Albany, New York, was next so I could hang out with a friend preparing for a weeklong bike ride on the Erie Canal. After that it was finally time to head west.
     I considered several side trips on my way home, Niagara Falls and a ferry across Lake Michigan among them. In the end, however, I decided that it’s time to head home in a timely manner. Traveling alone has its charms, but sometimes it is better if the experience is shared.
     Tonight finds me in Ames, Iowa, five miles from the geographical center of Iowa and 300 miles from the center of the contiguous 48 states of the US (Lebanon, Kansas). There is a Walmart on the outskirts of town and yet the city center seems to be doing great. Billing itself as the Main Street Cultural District the downtown is replete with sculptures, parks and thriving-looking businesses, including at least two bicycle shops. Good for Ames, Iowa. 



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