After two months of cooling our heels in Wisconsin (literally and figuratively), it was time to close the final gap between where we started and where we’d wind up. We said our goodbyes in Madison and hit the road for our first stop: Galena, Illinois.
Despite living in Wisconsin and Iowa for most of my life, I’d never heard of Galena until a few years ago. It’s a well-kept secret of the “Driftless State” — a sort of self-fashioned sovereign land made up of the corners of Iowa, Wisconsin and Illinois that didn’t get smooshed flat by glaciers. We stayed with some friends of mine, who restored an old schoolhouse there and now run their own ghost tour company.
(It’s OK, I’m sure your friends are cool too.)
At one point, Galena was a steamboat hub and mining town that was set to become the next great metropolis. When both of these industries went bust, however, Galena was abandoned so quickly that no one even bothered to tear down the beautiful brick buildings left behind by wealthy families and their businesses. As you can guess, this makes it a modern haven for history lovers — and ghost enthusiasts.
After an excellent dinner, some spooky stories, and an informal tour, we set off for our next destination: Cedar Rapids.
(Though not, of course, before Sean did some bonding with his long-lost puppy cousin, Winn-Dixie.)
In Cedar Rapids, we visited one of my oldest friends, who recently moved back to Iowa with her family. Her kids treated us to a magic show, which I have to admit I was genuinely baffled by. Like any self-respecting performers, however, they refused to reveal their secrets.
After Cedar Rapids, I took Sean for a brief tour of my hometown in Washington, Iowa (a “tour” takes all of about four minutes), and we had lunch with my old violin teacher before hitting the road again.
Our next stop was Nashville, where we met up with some friends who happened to be on tour with their band, Pink Neighbor. They played at a scrappy little bar called the Basement, along with a handful of other touring bands.
I know technically one is supposed to listen to country in Nashville, but I like these guys better than Brad Paisley and I will gladly fight you on that.
Up next: home sweet Durham! Time to see if our cat remembers who we are.
The Good Ship Watermelon 