Dubuque to Cedar Rapids: A Holy Couple of Hours

The people (was it the irish?) who came up with that old blessing "...may the wind always be at your back..." really knew what they were talking about. The wind was from the SW on our way to Cedar Rapids. We were heading SW. It was a lovely combination. Pause. Pause. NOT (Borat, anyone?)

Well, I mean it wasn't too bad. We actually met some really nice people who were riding around Iowa--they were a group that had branched off from RAGBRAI (just check out the site, it's really cool. Every state should have one.) about 36 years ago. The founder was 83 this year. He's still riding. Anyway, they told us about a monestary about three miles off the road we were on: I pointed to the huge building we could see that looked like a monestary and asked if it was it. "No, it's about three miles down the road." "ok, we'll go check it out." The guy was really nice--they all were (about 18 riders in all)--but we couldn't help but wonder why he didn't think the only huge building in a skyline of corn and soybeans wasn't the monestary...So we rode maybe a mile and a half to the front door of the New Mellary Abbey.

We walked in and no one was around. After we looked around--Andy and Morgan were yelling at Matt for exploring the dormitories and other clearly private parts of the Abbey, but no one was around--we did end up finding someone who showed us to the mid-day service.

Matt had a spiritual renewing experience:
"It was good to "feel" God again. After spending so much time in contemporary worship settings (both the music and the messages) I began to grow indignant, irritated, and resentful in general. I became very disconnected from the emotionally charged atmosphere that contemporary worship music easily creates. I was only able to observe, analyze, and wonder what was actually going on in many of the individuals around me. Sitting in the brothers' worship space and listening to them chant prayers and sit in silence allowed for a lot of personal reflection and prayer. And though it was not a very emotional experience, it was good to think that God was still accessible, if only through a different social experience."

Matt seemed to enjoy the experience the most. He then proceeded to weasel his way (everyone's way) into a free lunch at the Monestary despite Andy's initial desire to "just sit outside and eat granola on the bench."

We ate with a lady who was visiting a monk she grew up with. She was very pleasant, though even she couldn't hide the resentment she had for Iowa's humidity. I wondered if she cursed at the wind and the heat and the humidity like I did when she went up hills. She seemed interesting (or is the word I'm looking for Passionate. Yes) enough to have cursed at something recently. It was the humidity.

She told us about a giant road trip she was on--Arizona to Colorado (to stay at another Monestary) to Iowa to Chicago to Cleveland to Toronto, and then back to Arizona. She was recently let go as a nanny--the husband lost his job. She had plenty of time to do as she pleased. I wouldn't mind being like that when I get to be her age.

And then we left. Let me re-phrase that. And then we made the worst decision of the week. We decided to take the back roads instead of the main highway (151 S). The hills were left un-dynamited, the wind was bad, the pavement was often badly in need of repair, and at least 30 miles were added onto our journey--all thanks to the back roads. Also, at one point Andy wasn't paying attention and ran into Matt's back tire. Genius. Andy fell over. Matt just stared at him in disbelief and disgust. How does that happen? We don't know--but matt's fender was ruined, for the day, at least.

Andy fixed it the next morning.

Anyway, the library is closing. More details to come.