"...or did you just go?"
Yesterday i caught it again, bad, and found myself in Dubuque, Iowa.
It started by making a trip to Target for notecards and tape. First i stopped at the Road Ranger to check to see if the Around-the-Clock was indeed done with. Indeed it is. They had literally ripped out half of the wall and gutted the entire inside. So unceremonious. I will miss you, Around-the-Clock. I then made the critical mistake of filling my gas tank. Bad Scott, bad. Because immediately i felt it, which felt like a magnetic aversion to the Beloit area. I tried to find the road through Northern Illinois that i took looking for diapers before the No Pants Party. It was one of the Winnebago County pentagon roads that went through a hilly glaciated section covered in farmland. Instead, i found myself on the same road i took during my ill-fated attempt to reach the beach (173, i think).
At this point, something within me clicked, and i realized simultaneously that A) i had never been to Iowa, B) i had not seen the Mississippi River in about seven years, and C) i really really needed to see the Driftless Area again. [For nonnatives and nongeologymajors, the Driftless Area is a region consisting of most of western Wisconsin, northwestern Illinois, and the far eastern reaches of Iowa and Minnesota that, for whatever reason, wasn't glacialized during the Wisconsinian glaciation (the archetypical "Ice Age" and the last major cooling event of the Pleistocene). As a result, instead of the entire area being leveled and turned into a rice pudding of rough glacial sediments, the topography is primarily erosional, making for terrain that looks more like the Appalachian foothills than the flatter upper Midwest.]
With this in mind, i turned my ass around and headed west. I got to Beloit and decided i'd like to see Janesville again, which is a nice drive up 51. There's an absolutely beautiful area near the Rock County Airport that's primarily flat with gently rolling fields; i'm determined to camp out there for a thunderstorm some day. I drive north to Janesville, but before i get to the city proper i reach the junction of 51 and Wisconsin 11, running east-west. I take 11 west.
Wisconsin 11 between Janesville and Dubuque is my new favorite stretch of road in Wisconsin. The area between Janesville and Monroe consists of gorgeous farmland that looks more like Europe than Wisconsin, and between Monroe and Dubuque the Driftless Area starts to show hardcore. The topography becomes much more rugged, and these great valleys bottomed with completely flat erosional soils are...well, great.
There's a peculiar kind of tourist culture that surrounds the area. Peculiar in that it's a subtle culture around a subtle history, and in my opinion, not necessary victim to crass commercialization that surrounds more 'direct' tourist sites (e.g. Las Vegas, Orlando, Gatlinburg, any of the "Old West" towns). Small things, like a glass museum, mine tours, Victorian houses, the home of Ulysses Grant in Galena - these things characterize the area's subdued history, one that i find not unappealing. I would greatly like to explore it sometime.
Geologically speaking, there were outcrops that could put parts of the Appalachians to shame. The most striking was this huge roadcut through 151 right before Dubuque. 11 T's into 151, an interstate-type road in this area. It goes straight for about 250 meters before taking a sharp left turn through a 200-foot high roadcut that looks down on the Dubuque-Wisconsin Bridge and the Mississippi River through two hundred feet of sandstone. Driving it with GY!BE's Storm on the radio was a moment to remember.
Dubuque itself reminded me of a smaller Cincinnati, minus integration. That is, a large industrial section on the riverfront, flanked by lots of topography but with lots of white folks. Apparently Dubuque is pretty liberal, which is cool. I didn't stay long in Dubuque. It was about 6 so i stopped at an Arby's for dinner, which was a very midwestern experience. I ordered a Garden-Fresh Sandwich with home fries, a Pepsi, and a cookie for the American Cancer Society. Arby's makes damn good sammiches. Iowans are very friendly. I wanted to find a place on the river to sit and eat, but couldn't find anything with a cursory search. As i was recrossing the Mississippi on the Julien Dubuque Bridge, i looked back and apparently missed this giant porch-like structure that had ample seating right down to the riverfront. Oh well.
Things i saw on the way and back included:
-two red-winged blackbirds
-a type of semi-terrace, which involves plowing across a slope and installing meter-high "berms" of grassy dirt between each row
-a giant acropolis-like structure in Wisconsin, near Dubuque. Curious, i explored further, parking and walking around for a bit. It turned out to be the Sinsinawa Mound Center, which is something like the headquarters of the Sinsinawa Dominican Sisters.
-cows. lots of fucking cows.
-a swing bridge in operation!
-a barge, passing under the swung bridge
-a watchtower that covered a particularly spectacular area of northwestern Illinois
-roadcuts galore
-lots of beautiful views
-the house of Ulysses Simpson Grant, in Galena, Illinois
-a storm drain system
-seven farmers plowing
-four sandstone quarries
I took US 20 back. The beginning of US 20 right into Illinois would make a for great racing terrain. I returned home and got my flashcards at Cub, along with Triscuits and Twinings Earl Grey. I went home to find i had unintentionally skipped my review session with me_sa_dorchadas and made Jen very very worried about my physical safety, as i had forgot my phone in my room.
me_sa_dorchadas' friend Killian remarked on my useless waste of gas, "Who does he think he is? American?" It's true. Driving is my biggest sin, and yet it's this compulsion that i cannot avoid. In addition to orange juice, alpine skiing, and tea, driving will be my most-missed pre-peak oil activity to partake in.
* * *
Pocket Lint, Please Do Not Fuck Up Any More Of My Pomes. I know the one you accepted wasn't a technical masterpiece by any definition of 'technical masterpiece,' but it's simple courtesy to Not Fuck Up My Pomes. But what can i expect. At least you fucking published it this year.
And does anyone know why Pocket Lint includes shit from other schools?
It started by making a trip to Target for notecards and tape. First i stopped at the Road Ranger to check to see if the Around-the-Clock was indeed done with. Indeed it is. They had literally ripped out half of the wall and gutted the entire inside. So unceremonious. I will miss you, Around-the-Clock. I then made the critical mistake of filling my gas tank. Bad Scott, bad. Because immediately i felt it, which felt like a magnetic aversion to the Beloit area. I tried to find the road through Northern Illinois that i took looking for diapers before the No Pants Party. It was one of the Winnebago County pentagon roads that went through a hilly glaciated section covered in farmland. Instead, i found myself on the same road i took during my ill-fated attempt to reach the beach (173, i think).
At this point, something within me clicked, and i realized simultaneously that A) i had never been to Iowa, B) i had not seen the Mississippi River in about seven years, and C) i really really needed to see the Driftless Area again. [For nonnatives and nongeologymajors, the Driftless Area is a region consisting of most of western Wisconsin, northwestern Illinois, and the far eastern reaches of Iowa and Minnesota that, for whatever reason, wasn't glacialized during the Wisconsinian glaciation (the archetypical "Ice Age" and the last major cooling event of the Pleistocene). As a result, instead of the entire area being leveled and turned into a rice pudding of rough glacial sediments, the topography is primarily erosional, making for terrain that looks more like the Appalachian foothills than the flatter upper Midwest.]
With this in mind, i turned my ass around and headed west. I got to Beloit and decided i'd like to see Janesville again, which is a nice drive up 51. There's an absolutely beautiful area near the Rock County Airport that's primarily flat with gently rolling fields; i'm determined to camp out there for a thunderstorm some day. I drive north to Janesville, but before i get to the city proper i reach the junction of 51 and Wisconsin 11, running east-west. I take 11 west.
Wisconsin 11 between Janesville and Dubuque is my new favorite stretch of road in Wisconsin. The area between Janesville and Monroe consists of gorgeous farmland that looks more like Europe than Wisconsin, and between Monroe and Dubuque the Driftless Area starts to show hardcore. The topography becomes much more rugged, and these great valleys bottomed with completely flat erosional soils are...well, great.
There's a peculiar kind of tourist culture that surrounds the area. Peculiar in that it's a subtle culture around a subtle history, and in my opinion, not necessary victim to crass commercialization that surrounds more 'direct' tourist sites (e.g. Las Vegas, Orlando, Gatlinburg, any of the "Old West" towns). Small things, like a glass museum, mine tours, Victorian houses, the home of Ulysses Grant in Galena - these things characterize the area's subdued history, one that i find not unappealing. I would greatly like to explore it sometime.
Geologically speaking, there were outcrops that could put parts of the Appalachians to shame. The most striking was this huge roadcut through 151 right before Dubuque. 11 T's into 151, an interstate-type road in this area. It goes straight for about 250 meters before taking a sharp left turn through a 200-foot high roadcut that looks down on the Dubuque-Wisconsin Bridge and the Mississippi River through two hundred feet of sandstone. Driving it with GY!BE's Storm on the radio was a moment to remember.
Dubuque itself reminded me of a smaller Cincinnati, minus integration. That is, a large industrial section on the riverfront, flanked by lots of topography but with lots of white folks. Apparently Dubuque is pretty liberal, which is cool. I didn't stay long in Dubuque. It was about 6 so i stopped at an Arby's for dinner, which was a very midwestern experience. I ordered a Garden-Fresh Sandwich with home fries, a Pepsi, and a cookie for the American Cancer Society. Arby's makes damn good sammiches. Iowans are very friendly. I wanted to find a place on the river to sit and eat, but couldn't find anything with a cursory search. As i was recrossing the Mississippi on the Julien Dubuque Bridge, i looked back and apparently missed this giant porch-like structure that had ample seating right down to the riverfront. Oh well.
Things i saw on the way and back included:
-two red-winged blackbirds
-a type of semi-terrace, which involves plowing across a slope and installing meter-high "berms" of grassy dirt between each row
-a giant acropolis-like structure in Wisconsin, near Dubuque. Curious, i explored further, parking and walking around for a bit. It turned out to be the Sinsinawa Mound Center, which is something like the headquarters of the Sinsinawa Dominican Sisters.
-cows. lots of fucking cows.
-a swing bridge in operation!
-a barge, passing under the swung bridge
-a watchtower that covered a particularly spectacular area of northwestern Illinois
-roadcuts galore
-lots of beautiful views
-the house of Ulysses Simpson Grant, in Galena, Illinois
-a storm drain system
-seven farmers plowing
-four sandstone quarries
I took US 20 back. The beginning of US 20 right into Illinois would make a for great racing terrain. I returned home and got my flashcards at Cub, along with Triscuits and Twinings Earl Grey. I went home to find i had unintentionally skipped my review session with me_sa_dorchadas and made Jen very very worried about my physical safety, as i had forgot my phone in my room.
me_sa_dorchadas' friend Killian remarked on my useless waste of gas, "Who does he think he is? American?" It's true. Driving is my biggest sin, and yet it's this compulsion that i cannot avoid. In addition to orange juice, alpine skiing, and tea, driving will be my most-missed pre-peak oil activity to partake in.
* * *
Pocket Lint, Please Do Not Fuck Up Any More Of My Pomes. I know the one you accepted wasn't a technical masterpiece by any definition of 'technical masterpiece,' but it's simple courtesy to Not Fuck Up My Pomes. But what can i expect. At least you fucking published it this year.
And does anyone know why Pocket Lint includes shit from other schools?