This has been a weird season for weather. Is the weather actually getting weirder, or does it just seem like it?
After heavy snow on Halloween and the usual dismal November, we had some relatively pleasant days in December. I had planned a trip to New Mexico in December, but with a bad storm across my planned route through Kansas I postponed the trip until January.
Son Johnny and I tossed some gear into my GMC and headed west toward Dubuque. The roads were a bit wet, but clear. As we crossed the Mississippi, the water was not frozen over, but looked dark and dismal, with frozen chunks of ice.
Across the river we turn left on U.S. 151 heading south, then west across the hills of eastern Iowa. The rolling hills of that part of the driftless area have only a light covering of snow that does not relieve the drabness of the overcast skies. The roads remain good, but it looks like snow could be on the way.
On U.S. 151 we pass by the towns of Cascade, Monticello and Animosa. Instead of heading through Cedar Rapids to connect with I-80, we take roads less traveled. Once past Animosa, we take Iowa Route one south through a wide spot in the road, Martell, through the scenic town of Mt. Vernon — every Midwest state has a Mt. Vernon — then the village of Solon, and to I-80 near Iowa City, home of the University of Iowa. Then west to Des Moines.
About an hour from Des Moines it starts snowing, just enough to slow traffic down a bit. When we reach Des Moines, we complete a long-delayed and overdue errand. We meet Johnny’s cousin Timmy, i.e., my nephew from a former marriage, to deliver some family heirlooms.
We meet with Timmy and his wife at a nice restaurant called “The Machine Shop,” and have a great conversation reviewing times long past.
Here some history is in order: Timmy’s father, Kenyon, my former brother-in-law, was a few years my senior, a bright farm kid and a UW-Madison graduate. After a stint in the Army — nearly all able-bodied males served back in those days — Ken married, and returned to the farm and his family’s prize herd of Jersey cattle.
Ken, a Republican, was always interested in politics. In college I dated and eventually married the sister of Ken’s wife. When Ken got together with my future father-in-law, also a Republican, it was clear that I would be the odd man out — almost but not quite.
When my future wife-to-be, an independent thinker, hit college, she became a Democrat. I always thought my father-in-law held me responsible for that. But it had absolutely nothing to do with me — it had to do with John Kennedy. But I digress.
Ken was successful at farming, but his interest in politics got the best of him. He decided to run for the State Assembly. He had to beat a Republican incumbent to do it, but he did it — and won the general election for a seat in the Assembly representing the area around Sauk City.
It couldn’t mean anything to me at the time, but Ken’s seatmate in the Assembly was none other than Tommy Thompson, who would become a popular Wisconsin governor and future Secretary of Health and Human Services under Bush 43.
Unfortunately, Ken died at a young age, ending his promising political career. Years later, I was having lunch with a group that included our former Republican State Senator, Dale Schultz. During our conversation Dale mentioned Sauk City. I asked him if he ever knew Ken Giese. His response amazed me — he waxed eloquent on how Ken Giese was his idol, how Ken had influenced him, and how, had Ken lived, he surely would have been a future candidate for Governor of Wisconsin.
With that, I informed Dale that Ken Giese and I had married sisters. It’s indeed a small world.
Back to the present: After reviewing memories of Timmy’s father and mother, Johnny and I delivered the boxes of heirlooms to Timmy, completing the errand.
The snow had stopped and there was still some driving time to head south on I-35. The roads were wet, but clear and we reached Bethany, Missouri for the evening.
The next morning dawned gray once again. There was more snow on the ground than usual, but temperatures were mild. We started the day with our ritual trip around Bethany’s Harrison Court House Square, again reminding ourselves how sad that it was deteriorating and such a contrast for our own Green County Courthouse Square. All Bethany’s business activity is now centered around I-35.
We head south toward Kansas City. The roads are good, but there is a persistent fog in the air. After getting through Kansas City, continuing west into Kansas on I-35, the temperature rises to the 40s and the fog lifts — sunshine at last.
Upon reaching Emporia we switch to U.S. 50 south and west, then a right turn on Kansas 150 over the northern edge of the scenic Flint Hills. The grassy hills, brown this time of year, are not as picturesque in winter, but there are still herds of cattle grazing on the dead grass.
Once over the Flint Hills, Kansas Route 150 links up with U.S. 56 to McPherson, a prosperous looking town, home to one of my favorite coffee shops. It’s closed but we find a local deli before heading to Great Bend, then south and west through Dodge City. From there, it’s through the six similar towns, Ensign, Montezuma, Copeland, Sublette, Satanta and Moscow, all with grain elevators on the west and small business districts to the east side of the highway.
At Hugoton, in the Southwest corner of Kansas, it’s time to hang it up for the day.
— John Waelti of Monroe can be reached at jjwaelti1@tds.net. His column appears Saturdays in the Monroe Times.
