An American Journey

At the buffalo ranch, I get to work outside with animals every day, but still, a girl needs a break sometimes. And so I plan a day of adventure to Decorah, a town of 8,000 nestled in the bluff country of northeast Iowa. Yes, Iowa, but don’t go thinking this is the Field of Dreams. About 20,000 years ago, the Ice Age glaciers moved across parts of the upper Midwest, leaving Decorah bare, and a thousand years or so of erosion carved out this corner of Iowa, home to limestone bluffs, steep hillsides, rocky trout streams, and beautiful vistas. I’m starting today’s adventure at the top of one of those vistas, on the new bike trail, on my way to the famous Eagle Cam Nest. I’m pretending to admire the lush green hills, but really, I’m catching my breath, and I need to say that depending on how athletic you are, you might want to start on the flat half of the trail. This starts in town and still takes you to the eagles nest. I have to be honest, the flat trail takes you along a busy road, but I rate myself as fairly athletic, and I’m huffing and puffing. By somewhat athletic I mean I can carry a 50 lb sack of mineral to my buffalo, OR I can climb over a 6 ft fence without puffing. Not both at once. So it’s your call. And the hills are pretty. And slowly, I make my way to the eagle’s nest. It’s like most eagles’ nests, though interesting up close on the web cam, and so I head back to town, stopping for a sandwich at the Oneota CoOp, pronounced Own-ee-O-tah, a small grocery that sells bulk quinoa, organic beets, and grind-your-own peanut butter, and it has a great deli, perfect for lunch. It has plenty of regular sandwich fixings like smoked ham and cheddar cheese, but I opt for chicken curry salad with pine nuts because, hey, this day is about adventure. On to the mill stream waterfall. Down a shady, winding road just a few blocks off a busy street, and I’m in another world. The water fall spills down a 100 foot limestone bluff into a small creek at the base of the hillside. This. Beautiful. Cool air revved up, the paradoxical quiet of the rushing water creating another version of silence, rushing past my ears, drowning out any conversation. Trees overhead like a cathedral. Adventure in Iowa? Not always. But today? Yes.