D1P4

After 120 miles or so, the bus stopped at a small Iowa town restaurant. “We take farming seriously,” the sign said, and the farming décor scattered all around backed that statement up.

I stepped inside the restaurant for a while, but after seeing that the restaurant was willing to charge 13 dollars for a burger, I ambled outside to see what else the town offered. Not much, it turned out. The Starbucks briefly tempted me, but I ended up getting a free hotdog from a man promoting a racecar.

He was a mustachioed man with bare shoulders, and he tended a gas grill, a table, and a racecar in front of a Citi Bank. He was promoting a driver that the bank was sponsoring in a race the next weekend. He was offering free hotdogs. I took one.

A mother came by with two kids, one boy and one girl; the girl was attracted to the free food, and the boy was attracted to the racecar.

“This, this is where it’s at, sis!” He said.

“Do you want me to start the car up so you can hear it run?” The racecar man said.

“We’re actually going to the pool,” the mother said.

“Maybe you can bring some pool to me,” the racecar man said.

After another walk and a visit to the nearby farming museum, I had had my fill of Iowa. We all loaded up on the bus and moved onto Kansas City.