Iowa Girl on the Go

I try to enjoy the Iowa State Fair. I really do. It’s such an Iowa thing.

But I struggle to understand why people love the fair and come back every year. I spent the better part of two days at the fair this year, working in the Iowa State booth where we had literally thousands of alumni (and other visitors) looking up their names on a wall (below). I love that it was popular, but I have to admit that I really don’t understand the appeal.

The first day I worked, I got there just in time for my shift and left when the Varied Industries Building closed. So I didn’t have much time to check out the rest of the fair. During my 15-minute dinner break I grabbed a caprese salad (cherry tomatoes, fresh mozzarella balls, and basil) on a stick and an overpriced lemonade. The best part of my dinner break was sitting down.

I did want to see a few things at the fair – and eat food that’s deliciously bad for me – so after I finished my shift at 3 o’clock on Day 2 I had a list of things to do. I first wanted to see the other university booths in Varied Industries – check out the competition – so I made my way through the aisles of hot tubs and waterless cookware to find the University of Iowa, UNI, and my alma mater, Northwest Missouri State. (Ours was better.)

I was with my husband, Dave, and he was hungry, so we visited the food vendors next. He’s not a big fan of fair food, but he did find a satisfactory pork chop on a stick, and we both ate an ear of Mexican grilled corn on a stick, which was buttery and delicious. We spent some time at the Iowa Craft Beer tent – an excellent addition to the fair – and drank some Iowa microbrews.

Happier now, we strolled through a few animal barns – horse, sheep, cattle – and walked through the Agriculture Building. Dave had never seen the butter cow, if you can believe it, so we stood in the line that ran halfway down the length of the building, patiently waiting to view not only the world-famous cow but also a butter sculpture of Kevin Costner and some corn stalks in the Field of Dreams display. Dave says he’s now a true Iowan.

Here’s what I like about the fair: I like the vegetable-growing contests. I enjoy reading about the cooking competitions (but think some of the contestants are freakishly out of control). I like the cultural building with its art and photography exhibits. This year I really loved seeing (for the fourth time) Seward Johnson’s gigantic “God Bless America” sculpture (above) modeled after Grant Wood’s “American Gothic” – looking like it truly belonged on the Iowa State Fair grounds. I like the poultry barn, which also houses rabbits, and I like some of the frozen desserts that you can get only at the fair. I’ve never tried a deep-fried frozen Twinkie or Snickers candy bar on a stick because that stuff doesn’t really appeal to me, but I do like the chocolate- and nut-covered ice cream goodies. For the second time in my life I ate a Bauder’s peppermint bar, a wonderful concoction of peppermint ice cream sandwiched between smashed-up Oreo cookies and fudgie topping. Whoa. (That’s me below with my peppermint bar and Dave’s strawberry milkshake.)

The Loess Hills of western Iowa beckoned this summer, and I’m not sure why. I knew that driving the entire 220-mile scenic byway would take at least two days, and I didn’t really have time…but still, I kept thinking about it. I did some research. The more I learned, the more fascinating it seemed.

This drive was meant to be.

So I took off work the first day of August – an unseasonably cool Friday – and headed west.

The Loess Hills are considered a natural geologic wonder found in only two places in the world: Iowa and China. The word “loess” comes from the word “loose” – meaning loose soil. The hills in western Iowa are made up of windblown soil from the end of the last ice age.

This part of the state looks unlike any other. While some of Iowa is flat, most of the state is made up of gently rolling land. The Loess Hills are really hills, as I would soon learn.

I started early Friday morning, heading north out of Ames. I wanted to get to the northern end of the byway as early as I could, so I took what I thought would be the most direct route: north I-35 and then west on Hwy. 20. I stopped only once – in Correctionville – for a bathroom break at Casey’s. (What would we do without Casey’s? There would be no bathrooms in Iowa.) When I got to Sioux City, I took Hwy. 75 north to Le Mars (ignoring signs for the ice cream capital of the world) and then west on State Hwy. 3. I was in Akron before 10:45 a.m., stopping (again) at a Casey’s for gas. From then on, the rest of the day, I drove the Loess Hills Byway.

Here’s one thing I learned about the byway immediately. There are two parts: the main byway or “spine” and the “loops.” The spine is pretty, but it keeps you at arm’s length of the hills. It’s sort of like standing next to someone you don’t know very well. The loops are like giving a big hug to someone you love – they take you right up in there.

I spent a lot of time on the loops. I think I took about 85 percent of my pictures on the loop roads – and I shot most of the others in state parks and nature preserves. The loops are awesome. They’re mostly gravel, extremely rural, and surrounded by these beautiful green hills that seem so out of place and therefore so delightful. I encountered farmland and barns, old cemeteries and churches, wildflowers and grasslands. The variety is pretty amazing. Several of the roads were like gravel rollercoasters – think San Francisco-style hills. Seriously!

Both the main byway and the loops are well marked. The signage is really helpful; I would never have found many of the twists and turns just by following the map. Even with the great signs, I still managed to get lost a couple of times. More about that later.

OK, so I started out in Akron and drove south on State Hwy. 12 to Westfield, where there reportedly is a Loess Hills Interpretive Center, but I didn’t find it. I did find the first loop: Ridge Road Loop, one of the most spectacular on the whole byway. This mostly gravel loop (drive slow!!!) takes you to both the Broken Kettle Grasslands and the Five Ridge Prairie County Park. The 4,500-acre Broken Kettle prairie preserve is said to contain flora and fauna not found in other parts of the Loess Hills, but there are no trails so I can’t really say for sure. The prairie looked pretty from the road, though, and I did see a lot of wildflowers there.

I took a short hike at Five Ridge Prairie, one of the larger roadless areas in the Loess Hills. I didn’t have a hiking map, so I didn’t really know what trails were there. So I just did a leg stretcher and moved on.

At this point it was about 12:30; I left Plymouth County and entered Woodbury County. Just across the county line are Stone State Park and the Stone Park Loop. I took advantage of the shady park’s picnic tables and had myself a little picnic lunch. Just south of the park is the Dorothy Pecaut Nature Center. I was really looking forward to this stop, because I’ve seen pictures and the center looks really cool. But the road was closed due to construction, so I couldn’t find out. Disappointing.

Rather quickly I found myself in Sioux City, trying to follow the signs as the byway takes you onto I-29 and through residential and commercial sections and through some annoying road construction before returning to the pastoral, rural county roads. The cities (Sioux City and later Council Bluffs) are by far the least picturesque parts of the byway, and I wondered as I drove through the urban regions if there couldn’t have been a prettier way to bypass them.

Further down the road in Woodbury County, I left the main spine to take the Stagecoach Trail Loop. Here is where I got lost. The Stagecoach Trail intersects with the Smokey Hollow Loop and I got really turned around. I ended up going through the small town of Smithland three times. The second time I thought, “This can’t be right,” so I turned around, but indeed it was right because of the way the loops popped me out…but at any rate I finally figured out what I’d done wrong and got back on the byway going south.

And that’s another thing: the road does NOT always travel south. You end up going east and west and even north occasionally. So it’s really good to have a detailed road map and follow the signs because it’s sort of nerve-wracking to feel like you’re going the wrong direction.

I thought I would NEVER find my way out of Woodbury County, so I was really happy to see the Monona County line. By this time it was getting to be late afternoon. My goal was to reach the bed and breakfast I’d reserved in Crescent by 7 p.m.

I took the Wilderness Loop, which at first I thought was really poorly named – it was more the Agricultural Loop – but it ended up being very pretty and sort of wilderness-y after all. I stopped briefly at the Loess Hills Wildlife Area, Turin Loess Hills Nature Preserve, and Sylvan Runkel State Preserve, none of which was especially exciting, but the gravel lots gave me an opportunity to get out and stretch my legs and take a few pictures. I was really looking for the Preparation Loop, which I hoped would take me to Preparation Canyon State Park, and it did. The park has some mighty pretty views, and I’m assuming some good hiking trails, but I didn’t have much time to spend there. I moved on.

And then the road ended.

Well, not really ENDED ended, but State Hwy. 183 just closed abruptly without a detour sign. Luckily I did have a good Iowa highway map, so I backtracked from the Moorhead/Pisgah area where the road ended back up to County Road E54 (which was really pretty), over to State Hwy. 37 and down to Dunlap. In Dunlap I caught Hwy. 30 and drove to Logan, at which point I hooked back up with the Loess Hills Byway. But for a short time I was also on the Lincoln Highway Historic Byway AND the Western Skies Scenic Byway and with all those signs I got confused and ended up going back to Dunlap…but I had been right all along. Sigh! I was pretty stressed out at this point and was nearing my estimated time of arrival – and I was still in Harrison County and quite a ways from my destination.

I passed up the Fountainbleu Loop and the Orchard Ridge Loop – god forbid I should get lost again – and stayed on the main byway. I also passed the Hitchcock Loop and the road to the Hitchcock Nature Area – I knew I’d have to double back tomorrow morning to see those. I was headed south on L34 (not far from the intersection of I-80 and I-680) and realized that the byway does NOT go through Crescent. So I took a little cut-through (County Road G36), a hilly, winding little thing. I was super excited when it actually did take me to Crescent.

I checked into the Crescent View B&B – which does, indeed, have a lovely western view (above) but not much else to recommend it – and headed into town for some food. I found Denny’s Place, a kind of dive-bar-slash-pizza-restaurant that I enjoyed very much. I ordered a personal-sized veggie pizza, and it was just the right amount of food. I also savored a cold beer.

Back at the Crescent View I sat outside and watched the sun go down and then called it a night.

The next morning, Carol Meduna, who runs the B&B with her husband, John, fixed me a huge breakfast – about three times more food than I normally eat that early in the morning. Besides good coffee, she prepared a yogurt/granola/fruit parfait, apple coffee cake, a spinach-mushroom omelet, and fried potatoes.

After I checked out, I backtracked to the Hitchcock Loop, which I’d passed the night before – but not before pulling off the road to snap a few pictures of the hills in the early-morning light and low-lying fog.

The Hitchcock Loop took me to the Hitchcock Nature Center, a really wonderful place as it turns out. I paid $2 at the entrance, parked my car, and enjoyed a pretty overview before taking a quick hike on one of the many, many trails in the area. Hitchcock features the Loess Hills Lodge interpretive facility, plus camping cabin rentals. This seems like a great getaway and not difficult to get to if you take the direct route from Des Moines (I-80) as opposed to the winding, 12-hour route I took to get there. I’m sure it’s especially lovely in the fall.

I was starting to get low on gas (even though my little dirt-covered Prius C was getting about 57 miles to the gallon) so I was happy to get to Council Bluffs next. And then, after getting gas and using the restroom at (you guessed it) Casey’s, I was immediately NOT happy to be in Council Bluffs, because the byway route is ridiculous and takes you through what must be the most unattractive part of the city. Again, I was relieved to be back on the rural roads after that.

I took the Waubonsie Loop (which, oddly, does not take you to Waubonsie State Park) and then headed into Freemont County – the last county on the byway. I took the Pleasant Overview Loop and, following the advice of my trusty Loess Hills brochure, took the first gravel road to the left to an old cemetery and a beautiful overlook with thousands of yellow wildflowers. It was breathtaking.

The Pleasant Overview Loop itself takes J34 to Sidney, where the road inexplicably ended (again) without (again) telling you how to detour around it. I drove around in Sidney (it was rodeo weekend! Exciting!) and finally gave up, going back the way I came.

And then I found the sign leading to Waubonsie State Park, so I drove there and enjoyed a short but lovely hike (above).

Back on the main byway and heading toward Hamburg the road was closed AGAIN, with no detour sign. For crying out loud! At that point, I was at State Hwy. 2 that runs east-west across the state and I just said forget it. I got on Hwy. 2 and started driving. (Part of my exit was actually the Pleasant Overview Loop…but by then I was pretty much ready to just go home.)

I took Hwy. 2 to Hwy. 71 in Clarinda, drove north to Hwy. 30, and back to Ames.

I think if I were to do this drive again, I would do it in the fall. I would do more research on hiking trails – which ones take you up through the hills? Which ones offer spectacular overlooks? Which ones are easy enough for me to actually hike? And I would probably spend three days doing the drive instead of just two.

Also, if you go, bring water, bug spray, and picnic food. I was glad I had all three. Bring a good highway map and a detailed Loess Hills guidebook – you really need this. And fill up your tank with gas whenever you have a chance, because you can drive a long way between Casey’s.

Anyone with a connection to Iowa State University or Simpson College will be proud to see the Iowa influences highlighted at the George Washington Carver National Monument in Diamond, Mo.

Part of the National Park Service, the Carver Memorial is set near Carver’s birthplace on the Moses and Susan Carver farm. George was born a slave in 1864; his mother was kidnapped when George was a child. He was raised by the Carvers, whose graves are located at the memorial.

The memorial features two main areas: the Carver Discovery Center and the Carver Trail. The Discovery Center is an indoor exhibit where children are encouraged to perform interactive tasks and all ages will learn about Carver’s life and his exceptional research and service. The one-mile Carver Trail winds through woodlands that Carver would have explored as a boy. You’ll see the 1881 Moses Carver house and statues of Carver as a boy and as a man. Some of the exhibits include recordings of Carver’s voice, which was high and frail due to his bout with whooping cough as a young child.

As a young man, Carver spent several years in Iowa. He attended Simpson College in Indianola, where he studied art and piano in 1890-91. He studied botany at Iowa State in Ames, where he received a bachelor’s degree in agricultural science in 1894 and a master of science in 1896. He was Iowa State’s first African-American faculty member before leaving to take a position at Tuskegee Institute in Alabama.

If you go, take Hwy. 71 south from Kansas City. Diamond is just south of Carthage and east of Joplin.

Nowhere – and I do mean nowhere – can you find a more rootin’ tootin’ patriotic Independence Day than Boston, Mass.

Even with a Category 2 hurricane heading your way.

Dave and I had been talking off and on for years about going to Boston someday on the Fourth of July. It was up there on our list of things to do right along with the Macy’s Thanksgiving Parade (which we did in 2003), traveling to all 50 states (which we completed in 2012), and going to see La Boheme at the Met (which we have yet to accomplish). Boston was more of an historic thing for Dave and more of a festive thing for me, but we equally wanted to participate in the event.

Once I stopped traveling so much for work last fall, we made a travel schedule for this year, and it included a long weekend in Boston. We bought our plane tickets last January (not out of Des Moines but on Sun Country out of Minneapolis – a less expensive and non-stop flight that would get us to Boston before noon on July 3), booked a hotel well in advance, and waited.

We didn’t expect the hurricane. I mean, how could we have predicted that?

As spring turned to summer, we started doing some research on Boston’s Independence Day festivities: Freedom Trail walking tours, Boston Harborfest, Chowderfest, and especially the Boston Pops Fireworks Spectacular – the real reason to go to Boston on the Fourth of July.

Ten days out, I started looking at the forecast to see how hot it might be on our trip. The forecast for the Fourth was a 30% chance of rain showers. It had been raining non-stop in Iowa, so we weren’t too worried about a little moisture. But then the forecast turned to a 70% chance, and Tropical Storm Arthur reared its head. As of July 2, it seemed like the worst weather might be on the third, possibly forcing the cancellation of the Pops’ rehearsal concert.

“With Tropical Storm Arthur menacing New England, organizers of Fourth of July concert events will huddle this afternoon to decide whether to proceed with the rehearsal concert set for Thursday night at Boston’s Hatch Shell on the Esplanade,” the Boston Globe reported on Wednesday, July 2.

Oops, Thursday was going to be bad. That was the day we were flying. Would our flight be cancelled?

THURSDAY, JULY 3

As we waited in the Minneapolis airport – after checking to ensure that our 7:20 a.m. flight was on time – we learned that the storm had shifted. Friday would be the worst day. The Pops Fireworks Spectacular was being moved up a day – to tonight.

That worked out fine for us, because our flight got us into the city mid-day. We walked to the Public Garden (above, with swan boat) and Boston Common, and by 3 p.m. we had joined a crowd of people streaming on foot to the big event. We thought we were prepared for anything, lugging a blanket to sit on, umbrellas and ponchos for rain, and water bottles and sunscreen for heat. We were walking toward the Esplanade, along the banks of the Charles River, to position ourselves for the fireworks that would take place later that night. Instead, we got in a “line” (really a just a friendly mob) of people waiting to get into the Oval, which is where the Pops perform. We had never given that much thought, figuring we’d never make it into that select group of about 10,000 people, as opposed as the half-million that watch the fireworks from the island.

But there we were. Those around us assured us we were in the best place. Many of the folks we met were locals who had celebrated the Fourth with the Pops concert for years, making it a family tradition. We thought we were prepared, but these people made us look like amateurs, with their patriotic outfits and their comfy chairs and their coolers filled with much better food than we could buy inside and their little bags of fun things to do while they waited for the show to begin.

Dave and I had nothing to do. Once we got inside and claimed a chunk of ground for our blanket, we killed time playing with our iPhones and eating crummy food and taking pictures of people we didn’t know.

Finally the show started, with sort of a pre-show because the concert was being broadcast on the local television station. We heard a lot about Arthur (now a Category 2 hurricane still more or less out over the ocean) and the weather forecast and how loud the cannons would be for the 1812 Overture.

The concert was really terrific. The Boston Pops put on a really great show – they’re fantastically talented, but they keep the music light and fun. Conductor Keith Lockhart was a real treat. I don’t consider myself a traditionally “patriotic” person but I will admit that I got sort of choked up during the Star-Spangled Banner and later during the “patriotic sing-along” consisting of America, America the Beautiful, Yankee Doodle Boy, and all of those kinds of songs.

What I didn’t expect was a guest appearance by Megan Hilty from television’s “Smash” and Broadway. She’s fabulous, and she sang three numbers that I absolutely loved. Later, what’s left of the Beach Boys came out and did a few of their hits (“Fun, Fun, Fun” is the only one I can remember). The crowd loved them and danced and sang and clapped along with them. I think I’m the only person in America who doesn’t like the Beach Boys.

The Pops played a Duke Ellington swing number, a Roaring ‘20s number, and a few other numbers, pausing for commercial breaks. Right as we were nearing the finale – The 1812 Overture and Stars and Stripes Forever – we were informed that the weather pattern had shifted dramatically. The storm, which was predicted to arrive late in the night, was coming NOW. We were told that A) the fireworks were starting right now and B) we needed to evacuate. No 1812 Overture!

Well! OK, we’re done here. We gathered up all our stuff and moved quickly along with the masses toward the entrance and down the street, all the while keeping an eye on the fireworks show to our right, partially obscured by trees.

We made it back to our hotel about, oh, 30 seconds before giant torrents of wind and rain hit the area, soaking hundreds of people still walking to their destinations. It was, for us, a pretty lucky day.

FRIDAY, JULY 4

The next day we were not so lucky. The weather forecasters were right: it rained the whole day. We attempted to take advantage of all the city had to offer on the holiday, but at some point, when you’re really, really soaked clear through all your clothes and shoes (even with a big yellow poncho), it ceases to be fun.

We had lunch at one of the dozens of Italian eateries in the North End, savoring the homemade manicotti. We sat in the Old North Church (above) and listened to a costumed re-enactor read aloud the Declaration of Independence (a highlight of the day). We walked over the Washington Bridge to the U.S.S. Constitution (AKA “Old Ironsides,” below) but were disappointed that its sails were already down from its annual “turnaround” sail earlier in the day. We visited the Constitution Museum but were at that point so wet that we couldn’t really get very enthusiastic about what we were seeing.

So we walked back over the bridge to the North End and found a bar/pizza place that was delightfully dry. We peeled off all the wet layers that we could and sat, drinking beer and watching the ubiquitous World Cup, for the next couple of hours.

Eventually we had to leave the bar. We were still wet, and it was still raining steadily, so we headed back to our hotel to change out of our drippy clothes (our hotel room would smell like a men’s hockey team locker room for the duration of our stay) and try to find some dinner.

SATURDAY, JULY 5

The next day was sunny and perfect. Armed with a map, GPS unit, and our iPhones, we rented a car and drove to Salem, Mass.

Salem is one of those places I’ve always wanted to go and sort of surprised I’ve never been. It’s only 17 miles from Boston, a city I’ve visited five times before. But now, here we were.

Salem is also one of those places that appeals to people with a lot of different interests. It’s perhaps best known for its witch trials of 1692 – a shameful event in U.S. history of which the city takes full advantage. But there’s also maritime history, the House of Seven Gables, and the world-class Peabody Essex art museum, said to have the finest collection of American, maritime, and Asian art anywhere.

The first thing we did was park our car and walk to the visitor center run by the National Park Service. There you can learn about the Essex National Heritage Area in Massachusetts and especially about the local maritime era. Salem is home to the Salem Maritime National Historic Site, which includes the Friendship of Salem, a National Park Service replica tall ship. We walked down to the Derby Wharf and took a look at that, but not before stopping by the Witch Trials Memorial (below), which the tour brochure describes as a “somber place of remembrance for visitors and descendants of those condemned in 1692.”

Which makes me wonder…if they are so interested in remembering and memorializing the shameful events of the witch trials, why then do those in Salem offer the Salem Wax Museum of Witches and the Witch Mansion (“choose your level of scare!”), the Witch History Museum and the Haunted Witch Village, the Witch House and the Witching Hour live spell-casting? Salem has tours, too: the Ghost Walking Tour, Bewitched After Dark Walking Tours, Candlelight Ghostly & Graveyard Walking Tours, the Salem Witch Walk, and (seriously) the Witch City Segway tour.

If the witches aren’t enough, Salem tourists can also learn about Hollywood ghouls at the Nightmare Gallery monster museum, step into yet another haunted house at Frankenstein’s Castle, and stroll through the New England Pirate Museum. For theatre lovers, there’s the Gallows Hill Museum and Theatre, a live re-enactment called “Cry Innocent,” and a 3-D Salem Time Machine. Not enough? Check out the numerous psychics and “magikal” practitioners, or head to the psychic parlor and witchcraft emporium for all your witchcraft needs.

We passed on all of the above. I wanted to tour the Salem Witch Museum (left) because I’ve always been interested in the witch trials from an historic perspective, and I understood that this museum was historically focused.

Well, yes and no. It’s not a history museum you walk through, read, and learn. You pay your money and they take you, in large groups, into a room where you sit and listen to a pre-recorded narrator tell about the witch trials of 1692. The information is actually pretty good, but as the voice speaks, life-size dioramas around the room light up, featuring scenes of the key players in the hysteria, trials, and subsequent killings. Let’s just say they were not Disney-worthy.

Following this presentation, we were split into two groups. While the first group visited a smaller presentation of witches through history led by a 16-year-old girl with braces, the second group was shuttled into the gift shop, where you could buy witch souvenirs of every sort.

I was unimpressed.

Earlier in the day we toured the House of Seven Gables (above), the 1668 mansion that inspired author Nathanial Hawthorne to write his classic novel in 1851. The house was interesting, our young guide was knowledgeable, and I enjoyed the tour – but I might not have taken it if I’d known the tight spaces we had to maneuver through, like a wooden staircase inside a tiny brick closet.

We ate lunch at Scratch Kitchen, which is exactly as it sounds – everything is made from scratch, including the ketchup and mayo. I had a good salad with some bread and shared Dave’s really awesome onion rings and the complementary house-made chips that the server brought in a basket to our table. I would have tried one of the yummy-sounding deserts, but I was way too full.

We left Salem mid-afternoon and drove to Gloucester on Cape Ann. We didn’t stay long – just long enough to walk along the wharf, lined with American flags, to the 8-foot-tall Gloucester Fisherman’s Memorial, “Man at the Wheel” (left).

Our next stop was Rockport, also on Cape Ann. Rockport is a picturesque, charming town with a tourist-driven but friendly and historic downtown. Rockport is famously home to “Motif #1,” a red fishing shack on Bradley Wharf that’s become one of the most photographed and painted scenes in all of New England (below). I took many pictures of it, and then we ate ice cream.

We didn’t stay in Rockport long because the town was gearing up for its Fireman’s July 4 Parade and Bonfire, postponed to this afternoon because of yesterday’s inclement weather. We got out right before they closed down the streets.

I can never entirely get my fill of Susan Werner. She pops into Central Iowa for a few hours every now and again, but never stays long enough.

Last night, she made a brief appearance at Music Under the Canopy’s Singer Songwriter Music Festival. Sandwiched between Bejae Fleming and Greg Brown, Susan performed from about 8 o’clock until 9:15, when Brown took the stage. The crowd was sparse — “intimate” might be a nicer way to put it — but everyone clearly loved Susan.

She performed a variety of her best stuff from The Gospel Truth, Hayseed, Kicking the Beehive, and other albums. Guitarist James Biehn (from Norwalk, Iowa) accompanied Susan on most of the songs, and I must say his performance made her sound fantastic — especially given that they had just met earlier in the day.

I adore Susan Werner — I’ve seen her in concert more times than I can count, including one memorable evening at a friend’s home last fall. Her personality just shines through her music and lyrics, and she’s just so charming and funny I can’t get enough of her. Plus, she’s an amazing musician.

Here’s a cool thing I recently learned about her: She’s got a musical hitting the stage in Atlanta in September. She is the composer and lyricist for Bull Durham the Musical, playing Sept. 3-Oct. 5 at the Alliance Theatre — and if things go well there, it may be moving to Broadway.

The Singer Songwriter Music Festival continues at the Brenton Skating Plaza in downtown Des Moines tonight (with Mary McAdams, Coles Whalen, Katelyn Epperly, and Anna Nalick) and tomorrow (with Jason Walsmith, John Waite, and Damon Dotson).

Two good reasons to go to Hermann, Mo.: Wine and beer.

Perhaps there are others, but I don’t know they’d be. The wine and beer were pretty tasty.

I ended up in Hermann, a cute little German town in the Missouri River Valley between Columbia and St. Louis, when I was on vacation with my husband’s family in nearby Innsbrook. Hermann is home to half a dozen wineries and the Tin Mill Brewing Company – with several other wineries and breweries close by.

We stuck with one of each. After eating lunch at the Wurst Haus (yes, as the family’s lone vegetarian, I could make a joke that it was, indeed, the worst lunch ever) we headed for the Hermannhof Winery in historic downtown Hermann. We took a self-guided tour of the winery (the historic main building and stone cellars are on the National Register of Historic Places) and then headed to the tasting room.

For $4 each, daughter Katie and two sisters-in-law and I had our choice of wines ranging from dry whites to sweet reds and even a cherry wine mixed with sparkling grape juice – very refreshing. We each tasted five samples and determined that it was pretty darn good. Three out of the four of us walked out with a purchased bottle in hand.

From there, we strolled down First Street to the Tin Mill Brewing Company for more tasting. There Dave and I ordered a sample tray of six of the brewery’s regular and seasonal beers.

My family made fun of me for taking notes, but because I did, I can tell you that Dave and I both really liked the Red Caboose Amber and the seasonal Lucky’s Hard Rye. The Skyscraper German-style pilsner – one of the most popular year-round brews – was OK but not too exciting. We did not care for the dark Midnight Whistle or the First Street Wheat (way too much clove), and we downright hated the seasonal Tin Mill Dry Hop Pilsner – as you can see by the “after” photo, neither of us could finish it.

Tin Mill has an Oktoberfest brew I’d love to try – and I’m sure the Oktoberfest events each Saturday in October would be a hoot. The whole downstairs is a giant beer hall.

On paper, this weekend held so much promise. It was the Des Moines Arts Festival, one of Iowa’s biggest summer events. And it was “Junkin’ in June,” a central Iowa “junk jaunt” through 19 vintage barns, sheds, and shops. What fun!

And then, of course, once the weekend gets closer and you can see the weather forecast, it becomes less fun.

It’s been raining pretty much all week. Heavy rain on Thursday. Heavy rain on Friday. Rain in the forecast for Saturday and Sunday. Sigh! What’s a shopper to do?

I got up yesterday morning and headed out anyway. It wasn’t actually raining, so I figured I’d go “junkin’” as long as the weather held out, and then go to the arts festival in the afternoon if I could.

That was a pretty good plan. I drove north to Gilbert to hit up a few spots. The first stop was JB Knacker, one of my favorite places. The shop itself was filled with all kinds of nifty vintage items, plus about a dozen vendors had set up their tables and tents and campers in the back and side yards, selling everything from old bicycles and vintage signs to handcrafted jewelry and coffee cups.

I love to see how these creative folks put together what would, indeed, appear to be junk – but with a whitewashed picture frame here and a string of Christmas lights there, they managed to turn trash into treasure. I gravitated to flower pots and hand-lettered signs but ended up buying a necklace made from an old Iowa road map.

My next stop was Pixi, the shop next door to JB Knacker on Main Street. There’s nothing junky about Pixi. The shop has hand-crafted items, jewelry, paper products, and scrapbooking supplies. Everything is super cute. Guys should probably stay away. I bought a small notebook with cats on it.

Another block up the street is Stellas’s on Main, a two-story house filled with gifts and home décor – some antiques, too, but the new items outnumber the old. I bought a birthday card for a friend. Out in the yard a “junk” vendor had a tent with a wide variety of things. My eye went directly to a display of catnip in small bags selling for 75 cents. I bought one and hoped I didn’t get picked up on the way home, because it looked exactly like a baggie of marijuana.

That’s pretty much it for Gilbert. By now it looked like rain but it wasn’t actually raining, so I figured I’d move on to the next town: Story City.

Is it my imagination, or has Story City gone through some really great changes? I can remember going up there for the Cottage on Broad restaurant (which now appears to be closed), the carousel, and the big antique mall near the highway but not finding much to do in the downtown area.

Now there’s The Bistro, a great place to stop for lunch (and pie), plus two fantastic vintage shops that make Story City an antiques-hunter’s destination.

I knew about Broad Street Market, but I’d never been inside because it’s often closed. (That’s the great thing about the Junkin’ event – everything is open.) This shop is in the former Norsemen Hardware store. Its collection of architectural salvage and vintage goodies reminds me of Found Things in Des Moines’ East Village, one of my favorite shops.

Dare I say that Broad Street Market is even more appealing? The furniture, repurposed cast-offs, doors, windows, picture frames, baskets, bins, signs, and what-not is creatively displayed and oh so tempting. This is the good stuff.

Just across the street is InVintg. When did this store open? Where has it been all my life? It’s AMAZING. Just chock full of wonderfulness. Lots of antiques and vintage items, plus pillows and hand-lettered signs and really fun things. I didn’t even know where to begin. I just walked through, smiling, thinking I need to learn more about this shop and I MUST come back here again.

You can find InVintg, Broad Street Market, JB Knacker, and Pixi all on Facebook, by the way.

Still not raining – just hot and humid – so I walked south a block or two to stop by Penn Station Antiques. This is more of a typical junk/antiques shop – OK but nothing too exciting. By this point I had hit 6 of the 19 Junkin’ locations and didn’t feel compelled to go to Boone or Jewell, although I’m sure they had good stuff.

I drove back home to Ames, regrouped a bit, and headed to Des Moines.

The Des Moines Arts Festival has been around for a long time. It started in 1958 as Art in the Park at the Des Moines Art Center. In 1998, just after I moved to Iowa, the event moved to the bridges just east of downtown. In 2006 it moved to its current location: the Western Gateway Park.

The Arts Festival is a huge deal. The three-day festival each June attracts around 250,000 people. It’s a juried art fair featuring 195 artists from all over the country, plus an emerging Iowa artists program, live music, food, art for kids, and Iowa craft beer. It’s been called the “best festival in the world” by the International Festivals & Events Association.

I like walking through the artist tents, feeling only slightly guilty for looking and never buying. I like the festival atmosphere surrounded by the downtown skyline and the sculpture park. I like the music.

I usually don’t like the crowds – but yesterday’s crowd wasn’t bad at all. And I don’t like the weather variables. It’s generally either too hot or humid or windy or rainy or something. It’s rarely perfect. Yesterday it was very warm and humid, but tolerable. Dave and I got there about 2 o’clock and walked through every tent that appealed to us, which was most of them. There was some really good stuff there, stuff I mostly couldn’t afford but some that was very affordable. I enjoyed talking to the artists. One guy had nothing but pictures of chickens, so he was fun to talk to. Another had chicken footstools, so it was a big year for chickens.

At about a quarter to four, we decided we would get a beer from the craft beer tent and settle down at the main stage to listen to music. David Zollo was just finishing up, and Pieta Brown would be coming up next. Dave went to the car to get our chairs. But before he could get back, an announcement came over the PA system: A storm was heading our way. The festival was temporarily shutting down. Better head for cover NOW.

And that was the end of our Arts Festival experience. I intercepted Dave and we put the chairs back in the car, just as it began to rain. We walked through the skywalks to the Hotel Fort Des Moines and its always-wonderful Django restaurant, hoping to have a beer and then go back to the main stage. But the sky darkened and the wind picked up; one beer turned into two, and then into dinner and more beer, and then we had to leave because we had tickets for the Des Moines Metro Opera performance of Dead Man Walking in Indianola at 7:30.

The Register reported that the festival was closed for three hours. No damage was reported.

On a recent morning I headed to Ledges State Park, just south of Boone. Ledges is my go-to state park for walking, hiking, picnicking, and snowshoeing. It’s a great state park – with upper-canyon hiking, a canyon drive (through several creeks), and lower-ledges hiking and picnic areas. And the best part is that it’s only about 20 minutes from my house in Ames.

On this particular morning, I was greeted by the deafening buzz of what sounded like millions of 17-year cicadas. I was fascinated both by the live cicadas (flying through the air and landing on leaves and grasses) and the cicada shells (clinging to every tree). It was pretty weird.

From Ledges I traveled south to Madrid to walk on a section of the spectacular High Trestle Trail. It was a cool morning and I expected to be overrun with bicyclists, but I had the trail and its namesake bridge pretty much to myself for more than a mile before a group of kids peddled by. Completed in 2011, the 25-mile High Trestle Trail runs from Ankeny to Woodward, and the half-mile, 13-story bridge is the highlight.

That section of the trail is near Woodward, and I can’t be that close to Woodward and not go to Picket Fence Creamery. The folks at Picket Fence raise dairy cows and produce the freshest and most delicious dairy products in the world: milk, cream, ice cream, butter, cheese curds, etc. You can buy many of these products in grocery stories throughout Iowa, but for an awesome selection of flavored curds and ice cream – plus a chance to say hello to the cows (and calves, if you’re lucky like I was) – you should visit the farm at 14583 S Ave. The store is open Monday through Saturday 8 a.m.-8 p.m. and one “Sample Sunday” each month.

When I learned that I would be going to Innsbrook, Mo., for a long weekend with my husband’s extended family in June, I immediately tried to find the town on the map. I knew it was near St. Louis…not far from Wright City…and yet I couldn’t find it.

I decided that Innsbrook must not be a town at all but just a resort. But I was wrong. On further analysis, I learned that Innsbrook is actually a village with 552 residents according to the most recent census; however, it is comprised almost entirely by the resort, which is a private, gated community.

This sounds sort of hoity-toity on paper, but the reality is that Innsbrook is a great place to go for a summer getaway – and probably any time of year. Located just south of I-70 about 45 minutes west of St. Louis, Innsbrook boasts 100 lakes (I counted 65 identified on the resort map alone), with boating, fishing, swimming, golfing, and hiking.

Some of Innsbrook’s residents are year-round. Others use the property occasionally and rent it out the rest of the year. We stayed in one of those homes. It was big enough to sleep 20 (probably more comfortably if half that number were children); we had 13 people in our group and two adults had to sleep on something other than a real bed. The upper level slept three in the master bedroom and two in a second bedroom. The lower level ended up being one big slumber party, with one bedroom filled with bunk beds, a second bedroom with two beds, plus day beds and a huge sectional sofa. The living room had an enormous, vaulted ceiling with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the water.

The house was right on one of the lakes: Lake Charrette. It was lovely. Smaller than some of the other lakes, like Aspen, Alpine, and Lucerne, Charrette was quiet but certainly big enough to boat and fish on. From our house, I could only see four other houses on the lake (one on either side and two across). We had our own private sand beach, lounge chairs, a small dock with chairs, a campfire area, plus a wrap-around balcony large enough to seat our entire group for outdoor meals.

We spent most of our time talking, reading, hanging around on the beach, watching the World Cup, and fixing meals in the huge, fully stocked kitchen. My brother-in-law and nephew fished. A group of guys golfed. We drank a fair amount. We made s’mores. It was pretty relaxing.

One morning Dave and I decided to attempt to find the hiking trails, and we located and hiked two of them: The Meadows Nature Trail and the Aspen Spur Nature Trail. Both were better than I expected, winding through some nicely wooded areas, along a creek, through a prairie, and near a horse farm framed by white fencing. One took you to a waterfall. We even saw a couple of turtles on the trail.

It was interesting to drive through the resort; it’s very well planned and wooded and doesn’t have a “resort” feel to it at all. Housing is grouped according to type: chalets, condos, cottages, villas, and homes. Most of the lots are large, giving residents and visitors plenty of privacy. And it’s an easy drive into St. Louis if you want to catch a baseball game or go to the Gateway Arch.

The Downtown Des Moines Farmers Market — formerly my No. 1 favorite thing to do on a Saturday morning from May through October — has fallen low on my list for one reason: It’s too crowded.

I didn’t make it to the market once last year — not even in the fall, my favorite (and least crowded) time to go. My daughters have already been several times this year, and Lauren convinced me this morning that I should go with her. So I did. And what happened? It rained.