I started out the third day of the trip by backtracking. I decided I’d take a gander at the Cody Homestead, which appeared on my maps. I rolled north back through the construction in downtown Le Claire and into Princeton, IA. When I got there, I pulled off the road to the river side, into what looked like a downtown. Found a café immediately, but when I parked and walked to the front door, there was just a sign saying the place was closed. That was a little confusing, since there were a lot of cars parked next to the place.
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| McCausland, IA |
Oh well. Back out onto the highway and toward the Cody Homestead. I knew from looking at the guide-book the night before that it didn’t open until nine, and it was only a few minutes after eight, so I headed north into McCausland. A trip into the downtown revealed another closed café and I was starting to get a little discouraged. But back on the south end of town, what I’d first thought was just a gas-station turned out to be The Corner Market and had a four-booth diner in it, along with a convenience store.
It was decided. Between the lack of other places around to eat, the plucky attitude showed by the We saved our post office
signs (I saw at least three of them), and the need to kill at half-hour or more, I was going to dine here. Turned out to be one of the better decisions of the trip, since the other customer in the mini-diner was an older local guy that was happy to talk. We chatted about various things and the time flew by.
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| Cody Homestead House |
With the food gone, and the conversation winding down, it was time to drive to the Cody Homestead. It was built in 1847 by Buffalo Bill’s dad. Not especially impressive, and when it wasn’t open right at nine, I nearly just headed out, but eventually the woman running the place opened up and I took a quick tour. If you’re fascinated by early life on the prairie, you might find a way to spend more than a few minutes walking through the half-dozen rooms, but if not, it would be a pretty quick stop.
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| Government Bridge, Rock Island, IL |
Next stop, Quad Cities. I headed through downtown Davenport, and across the Government Bridge to Rock Island. I stopped at the checkpoint (the entire island is a military base) and explained that I was heading to the visitor center, and then since it was Monday and the museum was closed, I’d be heading into downtown Moline. At the visitor center, I talked with the attendant from the Corps and another guy who was visiting from Kansas. There wasn’t really anything new for me to see, since I’m already familiar with how locks work, and have read about much of the waterway on the Mississippi.
The interesting thing was that they also had photos from Henry Bosse displayed, and when we started talking about them, it turned out that the Rock Island District of the Corps was pretty bitter about the book that had been put out giving minimal credit to the guy at Rock Island who had worked so hard to preserve and scan the original cyanotypes. Note that if you visit Rock Island, you can get a CD containing scans of the prints, done by Ronald Deiss for $5 (it’s identical to that site). They’re scanned at roughly VGA resolution, so it’s still work getting one of the books, but I’d suggest buying either Anfinson’s version if you can find it.
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| John Deere Pavillion |
After finishing with the river (and the limited photo-ops — since the island is a military base, photography is restricted), I headed through the base and over to Moline, where I found the John Deere Pavillion pretty quickly. It was interesting, but having grown up in a Farmall family, I wasn’t as wound up by the green and yellow as some visitors were, and didn’t buy anything in the store.
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| Norbert F. Beckey Bridge, Muscatine, IA |
Everything else I wanted to see in the Quad Cities was closed, since it was a Monday. I headed downriver to Muscatine, which had been the Pearl Button capital of the world. Of course it was Monday, so the museum was closed. Also, it was getting pretty hot out, and the humidity had been creeping up all day. I looked at the river briefly and then got back on the road.
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| Norma Jean’s Grave |
The next stop was Oquawka, IL. But first I needed to get some lunch. New Boston, IL seemed a decent enough place, and the Portsider had a “steamburger” which turned out to be a loose-meat sandwich for the lunch special. After an okay lunch, I continued on to Oquawka. Roadside America had said that there were signs pointing to Norma Jean’s Grave “from all points in Oquawka.” Well, I saw exactly one sign, and it just said “See Elephant Grave” with no directional indication or anything. Anyway, after a bit of driving around, I found the grave. It’s near the water-tower, and the map coordinates on my photo are accurate in case you’re trying to find it.
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| Great River Bridge, Burlington, IA |
It was time to get back to Iowa. Next stop on the list was Snake Alley, but first I had to get out of Illinois. Some more driving through the countryside brought me to the Great River Bridge, which really is a pretty bridge. I headed to the riverfront in Burlington to get a picture of it, and orient myself. Talking to the nice woman in the welcome center, she tried to tell me all about the area, but I wasn’t listening very closely. At this point, the heat was getting to me, and every time I got out to look at something, not only did I get hot and sweaty, but my truck would heat up in the sunshine. I wasn’t feeling particularly good at this point.
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| Snake Alley |
Luckily, the view of Snake Alley from the top (where the historic marker is) was mostly shaded. I took another photo and hit the road again, still heading south. I was thinking that the next stop would be in Keokuk, where the second largest drop at any lock and dam is (St. Anthony Falls is the largest). But I was also thinking about how the hot weather was putting a damper on my trip. I stopped just outside Wever, IA, at a little roadside park, and pondered my situation for a few minutes while consulting the map. Iowa 16 headed west, and ran into 218. I knew that would get me towards home, so I headed west on 16, and then north on 218. It was a lonely road for me.
Anyway, once I’d made the decision to head home, I did some calculations, and figured I could be in my own bed that evening. That turned the return portion of the trip into a Speed Run, but I was fine with that. I’d had three days on the road, and was ready to click the heels on my ruby slippers.