Iowa {50 States of Yoga}

I flew into Kansas City International Airport in Missouri on Monday afternoon.  I quickly got my rental car and began my few hour drive north towards Des Moines, IA.  I'm no stranger to drives through the heartland, so it didn't feel particularly special.  Until I crossed over the Iowa border.

Highway 35 had contruction spanning 7 miles or so over the border from MO into Iowa.  The lanes were narrowed to just one and the speed reduced to 55 mph.  As I cruised along, crossing the border, I spotted my first Iowan treat ahead... a deer!  A doe was standing on the shoulder, very close to the breakdown lane, watching me approach and I imagine, contemplating a dash forward - across the highway.  I slowed considerably, sent her mental pleas to not dash in front of me, and crept by her at 30 mph as she turned and darted back into the woods.  Phew! Crisis averted.  All I could think about was the car rental guy trying to convince me earlier to buy their insurance.  When I declined he mentioned how they had a bunch of cars in the shop from hail damage earlier in the week.  I looked at him square in the face and asked if his insurance would prevent acts of mother nature.  He had no answer.  I wonder if deers darting into the road would be considered an act of mother nature, too. 

 

The People of Iowa Welcome You
I love that!

 

As I continued north into Iowa I saw several signs for an Amish country store on an exit ahead.  I recollected watching one of those Amish reality shows... and how "the English" had shops selling Amish-like goods to unsuspecting tourists.  But then... I saw a horse and buggy on an overpass!  This excited me so much.  I concluded that the Amish country store was probably legit.  Seemed like there were actual Amish in the area.  (Later on my husband reminded me during a call home that the Amish do, in fact, have settlements in IA, too - in my head they're always in PA!) 

 

And I kept driving....  I had flown in that day... then had a few hour drive ahead of me... and it felt like forever.  (And now that I am reflecting on this...  I remember feeling that way when I flew to Albuquerque and drove straight to Flagstaff.  Note to self:  When planning future trips... maybe don't schedule long drives after long flights!)  But the warm air felt good.  I love to drive with the windows down.  The wind whipping my hair all around.  The smells filling my nostrils.  And those smells!  Wow!  This was another thing... I was beginning to think as highly of IA as I did of AR!  The air smelled so earthy and deep  and woodsy.  Green and heavy with dampness.  It was different than the air in Arkansas that I fell in love with, but equally as pleasing.  It was sensual, almost.  Can air be sensual!?  If so...  Iowa's air is.  If I could bottle scents to put in my aromatherapy diffuser at home... I would have 2 signature scents...  Arkansas and Iowa.

 

The rest area on Hwy 35 after you cross into IA is really worth the stop.
They have some historical stuff like this Mormon Trail marker
and a few beautiful vistas with walking trails.

 

The rest area again...

 

And so...  I checked into my motel in Des Moines.  And it was a fairly unpleasant experience.  But the bed was comfortable and I didn't have to get up early the next day.... so I slept like a rock.  The next moring I had the usual hotel breakfast buffet fare, then headed into the city for my yoga class at Shakti Yoga.

 

 

Shakti Yoga is at the end of a plaza that is filled with an interesting array of upscale shops.  Their studio is spacious and bright.  And... they have the most adorable little helper.  A Golden Retriever puppy named Toes.  I imagine that his name has something to do with yoga....  frequently yoga teachers are reminding practioners to ground their feet, spread their toes, feel the earth.  So I feel like this has something to do with his name.  Or maybe he likes to nibble toes.  Haha... I don't know... I didn't ask!  (Side ramble... I'm an introvert - really! - and I have a hard time talking to people I don't know... so this whole experience has been a great challenge to force me to interact with people.  When normally I might go to a yoga class and be a wallflower... when I am traveling I force myself to talk to the instructor... and sometimes the other yogis, too!)

 

Lotus mural at Shakti Yoga

 

Back to the practice....  the class was Level 1 and 2 Practice with Brette.  I consider myself a level 0.75, maybe a .83 on a good day.  So to watch level 2 yogis was pretty amazing for me!  Brette was the most inspiring, though.  She has been practicing yoga for decades and has a lightness and skill about her.  She contorts her body into the most complicated poses, and yet does it with such grace and fluidity that it makes me believe I could someday do such things!  My favorite part of class was coming out of savasana....  little Toes had come from his nap in the office and gave me a puppy kiss as I rolled out, onto my side, into fetal position.  I felt like it was a little reward for trying so hard in a class that I clearly didn't have a matching skill level for.  Yay puppies!

 

Toes!

 

A candid I sent to my husband to show him my gnarly post-yoga 'do!

 

Before I left on this trip, I had done a little research on things to do in Des Moines.  I usually only have a couple hours someplace... and I also like to "wing it".  Sometimes I actually do the things I've researched, sometimes I don't.  This morning I decided instead of heading down to the Des Moines River and doing an art walk I had printed from the web, I would hit the road and see what highway 70 had in store for me on my way to Omaha, Nebraska.  I wasn't disappointed.

 

As I read the signs, I saw a lot of different stops that slightly interested me... but not enough to get off the highway.  And then I saw a sign for the Iowa Aviation Museum.  At the same exit... a sign for Freedom Rock.  I was in the middle of nowhere.  No cities in sight.  I found it pretty interesting that there was a great big aviation museum out here.  I jumped off the highway... and started following the signs.  12 miles down a byway through corn fields and farmlands another little sign directed me onto a dirt road.  Another mile down... a sign for an airport... and then the museum!  It was pretty much as I expected.  A large hangar.  A dozen small aircraft - mostly older, some replicas.  And a small space of momentos of Iowa's aviation past.

 

 

The gem at the aviation museum, in my opinion, were the volunteers.  I was there at midday on a Tuesday, and the only visitor.  I recieved a tour of the musuem portion from a newer volunteer, Joann, a delightful retired woman with little aviation knowledge.  That didn't really matter though.  She was sharing history.  She pointed out the little notes about local women who had made great accomplishments in aviaton.  We chatted about how these women paved the way for my own career today.  She showed me photographs from the crash site of Richie Valens and Buddy Holly's airplane.  This was one of the more fascinating parts for me...  the aircraft was mangled to bits!

 

 

 

 

 

Photograph of Richie Valens and Buddy Holly's wrecked aircraft.

After the museum tour with Joann, Jim - another volunteer - took me into the hangar to look at the planes.  He had wonderful stories about how the museum was started (A local man had collected a few aircraft himself and dreamed of starting a museum.  After his death, his family made his dream a reality.), about the aircraft themselves, and about a WWII Pearl Harbor survivor that lived locally.  He said this survivor would come in now and then to hang out and tell visitors about his experience in Pearl Harbor.  I had secretly wished he had come in that day.  I can't imagine what that experience was like.  Having been to the memorial in Honolulu, I would be honored to listen to a first hand account of the tragedy.

 

 

 

 

After the hangar, Jim took me into the Hall of Fame and Library.  Every year, since the late 1990s, their museum has honored 2 or 3 Iowan citizens who have contributed to aviation history.  He had a particularly lovely story about Peggy Whitson, an astronaut for NASA.  Jim told me sometimes folks aren't terribly present or engaging, but that she was so thoughtful, and answered questions of her experiences with detail and humility.  I hope one day I have the honor of meeting her.  

 

View towards their runway and the road which leads to the museum.

 

I bid a fond farewell to Joann and Jim, but not before they insisted I stop at the Freedom Rock before getting back on the highway.  And so I did.  When I hear "freedom rock" I think classic rock from the 60s and 70s and someone, who sounds like Chong {of Cheech and Chong fame} saying, "Turn it up, man!".  Of course this is not at all what the Freedom Rock is, but that didn't stop me from doing my best impersonation of Chong while I was there..... Turn it up, man!

The Freedom Rock is a large (approx. 60+ ton) boulder located in rural Iowa that is repainted every year with a different Thank Youfor our nations Veterans to honor their service to our country. The artist, Ray "Bubba" Sorensen II, was inspired by the movie Saving Private Ryan, as well as, wanting to give Veterans a unique recognition on Memorial Day. {source}

Past images of the Freedom Rock

 

 

 

Stay tuned for more states on this trip of 50 States of Yoga!