Coop's Corner: Iowa Moto Guzzi Rally

Monday, July 11, 2022

Iowa Moto Guzzi Rally - 2022/07/10

Another great one, the nicest weather that I can remember while in the Elkader City Park for the rally.

My Sunday morning, 4:30 Sunday morning, view out my tent, the spotlighted sign finally shedding some value to we campers.

Those of you that know the 'Guzzi brand will not recognize this one. That is because this is a 1998 Yamaha VStar 650. I bought this bike, the deal consummated at this very location/event back in 2018. With various rallies under its wheels, it had never been to the Iowa Guzzi Rally and that's why it made the 2022 trip.

I mentioned the great weather while AT the rally....cooler and clear. But my trip down was a wet one and as I shared with all that would listen, it was my longest ride in the hardest rain that I'd ever ridden through.

I left home at 7 but had really planned, based on the forecast, to leave at 5am. Somehow even with my 7:00 departure, I only managed to have one cup at home and one just isn't enough. The rain had started by Millville and was nicely steady by the time I got into Eyota.

Over the top of I-90...

Then for a short ways, almost butterflies and rainbows!

I had really wanted to make the trip along the river but in watching the radar and noting the way the storms were moving through, it looked like staying west (shorter) would see me sneaking in behind the moving storm.

But the storm stopped moving the way it was supposed to, deciding to follow me instead.

I couldn't take it anymore and got off in Harmony, a good excuse for another Karuba.

Through Decorah, the shortcut but not the real shortcut though Frankville to Postville. I always visit Frankville when I go that way but I decided to just stick with the main road in the hard rain. Through Postville and then through Gunder, the rural edge of St. Olaf and finally down the hill into Elkader.

The Keystone Bridge is being repaired and literally changed everything in town. Not just for we visitors but for the residents as well.

In no hurry to set up my tent, I went back downtown via the Detour and visited 2 Mit Burger stand (thanks Dave!), something I've done each Friday the last few years.

My first time parking next to a Dalmatian Lincoln!

The old depot across the street is being remodeled and this year as well as last, cherry pie slices were being sold as a fund raiser to continue the effort and I just happened to be in the philanthropic mindset.

Bob was here....

Jeff finishing setup...

Ron arrived not long after I did...

Chuck was there....

Mike was there....

As you can see, the afternoon turned out to be absolutely perfect. Temperately temped, a lovely turn from the wet morning. After some Arnold Palmer's and visiting with my fellow rally-goers, I jumped back on the Yamaha with the 360 camera to get a different look at things.

The beef is hiding the mashed and veg....

Sitting around an imaginary campfire....w/fireflies. "Where's Mike??"......Mike and Speedy, everyone missed you!

A lovely, dewy Saturday morning...

Indiana, DeSoto and LaCrosse very well represented...

Johnson's getting breakfast ready to go....

Many in our group spent some time Saturday, as they had Friday afternoon, at the Earthmoving Legacy Center. If you haven't been there and care about old equipment, you need to go. I didn't make it this time but I will absolutely visit the next time that I'm in Elkader.

What I did was visit the Bily Clock Museum in Spillville. I had not been there since 1981. I built a Route that included Spillville and Decorah, it was such a nice day that to not ride and visit some old clocks would have been a travesty. As interested as I was in the clocks, I fully intended to spend an equal amount of time upstairs in the museum checking out Mr. Antonin Dvorak's legacy of his time spent in Spillville.

I intend to do another dedicated blog Post at a later date but will include a few images here of my visit and these images in no way do justice to the works or items on display at the museum.

Much of the wood they used arrived from around the world, although they did use local species from their own farm. I'm quite sure that I was told that most of the works were purchased from Seth Thomas.

Scroll saw built from their mother's sewing machine.

As I said, a dedicated Post shall follow.

A good time here to introduce the maps that you've been waiting for. First, the entire 452 miles of the weekend.

Here's the Saturday portion....in green.

And finally our Parade Route....zoomed in, green. With the bridge gone, the young Sheriff had little choice but to cut our route short.

My brother almost in front....he did not lead us astray!

Sunday morning coffee, rolls and coffee. Thank you Cookie Lady for the cookies....take a break until November!

And thanks to Dennis, Rod, the Cookie Lady and you other club volunteers that make it so easy for the rest of us to enjoy ourselves as we always do. A great time for us all!

4 comments:

redlegsridesJuly 11, 2022 at 6:18 PM
I used to not mind riding in all kinds of weather, now, not so much.....though I think I would prefer rain to high heat.
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motormikeJuly 12, 2022 at 6:02 AM
Dang, mised the event. Had to attend a family event. I don't do many rallies but this one is my fav. Great location, great roads, great people. :)
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Others say....

"it was auspicious to approach any situation from a deferential, inquisitive place. Conceding that there is much to learn is the best blueprint for discovering something new." ----B. Fuller

The Man straightened stiffly above the block of salt fixed to the stake and looked at the young cattle ringed about him. The pasture was holding out well and the stock was looking good. This bunch would be ready to sell in another month, maybe sooner if the market was right.

A stir among the cattle down near the river brought him round to face the swinging bridge he'd built years before. Someone was coming toward him from the bridge. Someone in breeches, but it didn't look like a man, somehow. What was a woman doing in his pasture this time of night?

He bent over the salt again; maybe if he paid her no heed she'd go on past and let him mind his own business. He heard her footsteps come nearer and stop. "Good evening," she said.

Her voice was smooth with book learning but friendlier than most, and somehow almost shy. When he made no answer she went on, "I've been sitting on your swinging bridge....I thought I'd like to say thank-you...." Her voice stumbled a little, then she tried once more.

"You are Mr. ____". His name sounded strange in her voice, but she went on to tell her own.

"That's what they've called me the last sixty-eight years," he said, looking past her face to the hills fast darkening under a single star. "I reckon the woods are free for those that like to walk there."

The unfamiliar voice laughed a little. "That's what Emerson said: the grove belongs to the man who walks in it with an open heart....On that basis I guess I've owned part of your woods for a good many years.....". She made a final effort. "I've always wanted to thank you....."

Something deeply hidden stirred in him. "There's a stump up there, in the notch of the woods", he said slowly, "that before the timber grew so tall you could stand on it and see all over this country."

He kept still a minute, remembering, then, "I used to stand up there an' look at things, an' wonder how they come to be like they was, an' how the hills was created, an' all the things in Nature.... I told my wife I guessed all the religion I ever had I got standin' on that old stump, a-wonderin'..." He turned his face away from her.

She helped him out. "I know about that, a little. This afternoon I saw......." Her account of a thing she had really taken time to look at eased him, and he answered with telling of the badger den at the foot of the swinging bridge.

When she had gone, he turned to watch her. After a moment she stood clear and unmoving against the sky. You could hear the sounds of the river where she stood. She was one that could stand still long enough, he thought, really to hear what a body was saying, or a river.

Then she walked down the farther side of the slope and was gone. ------Margaret Snyder from A Chosen Valley

Fall was the end of harvest, end of the growing season, a burst of color and sun-warmth before killing frost turned the land gray and cold. Fall was a moody time, full of both life and death, a time when we were reminded of the power outside of us, reminded that the seasons happen to us. We do not invite the change to come.-------Ben Logan, from The Land Remembers

When you get those rare moments of clarity, those flashes when the universe makes sense, you try desperately to hold onto them. They are the lifeboats for the darker times, when the vastness of it all, the incomprehensible nature of life is completely elusive. So the question becomes or should have been all along, what would you do if you knew you only had one day, or one week, or one month to live. What lifeboat would you grab onto? What secret would you tell? What band would you see? What person would you declare your love to? What wish would you fulfill? What exotic locale would you fly to for coffee? What book would you write? ------- Ben Tyler

We were also cautioned about journeying far from home. As an example of the dangers, the town had a badly crippled lady named Lucy, who as a girl had traveled to New York City. As she traveled along a sidewalk, sightseeing, she was struck by the outstretched hand of a suicide who had leapt from high above. Her spine had been shattered and for the rest of her life, she was to walk bent forward at the waist, tapping the sidewalk with two black canes. Whenever the subject of travel to a big city was raised, someone would say, "Just remember what happened to Miss Tripp." ---- Ted Kooser, from Local Wonders

"Steamboats are like wedding cakes without the complications...." ----Mark Twain

"It's not about having lots of money, it's about having lots of options......." -----Chris Rock

As the very proud father of three former ponytail wearers, hopefully I can get away with this....."For the past few years it's been fashionable for young women to wear ball caps and to snap the strap on the back under their ponytails. I like the looks of that, their shiny ponytails jauntily swinging, but it's hard not to think of the rear ends of horses. There's a piece of harness called the crupper that goes just under a horse's tail to keep its nose down. If the horse lifts its head to look for a way out of whatever predicament it's in, the crupper tightens and hurts the horse. But it's foolish for parents to think that a ball cap might keep a young woman from running away. Anybody can see they're made for running." ------Ted Kooser, Local Wonders

"I tell the guy's girlfriend that the only difference between the book's main character Phaedrus and myself is that I am neither brilliant, tortured or insane, she looks at my bike and there is an uncomfortable silence." --------ahendepe (a.k.a. Vermin)