Looking for barn quilts and cousins

I was at Chipp’s Harley-Davidson early for my service, and they were already open and ready for me.  Yahoo. 

As I wandered around the shop my eye caught a book titled, “Gravel Dust.”  It’s not a big book, or a long book at only 55 pages long, but it’s big in content.  Larry, the author, works at the shop and we chatted a bit.  The book was his way of trying to release some demons, including a sister’s death at a young age and drug addiction.  I bought a copy that he signed for me.  It’s something I’ll read, and I told him that I’d pass it on to friends in hopes that they’d read it and pass it on as well. 

Larry, the book and me.  What a great guy he is.  I'm so happy for him that he turned his life around and is trying to help others get to that special place, too.

By noon-thirty I was finished talking with everyone and back on the road with a clean motorcycle.  Larry had detailed my bike so she looked nearly new, with the exception of a few paint chips. 

It was time to get serious about getting north as I needed to be to the hotel/casino where I was staying on Friday.  I wanted to arrive about noon so I had plenty of time to get the lay of the land. But I was also still hoping to find some barn quilts.  I'd not yet been successful in that endeavor.

There's lots to take photos of, though.  I found this interesting as I like old, dilapidated buildings.

 Of course, things didn’t happen like that, exactly.  I got lost … somewhere in Iowa, in the middle of farmland, no landmarks, no cell service.  How did that happen?  I’d been traveling on Highway 65 north.  Somehow I got off of it, probably looking around at barns trying to find some of those barn quilts.  And then I was 21 miles up Highway 330, wondering how I’d gotten there.  In some small town I was trying to find a way north and west without backtracking, and some guy who was missing a leg (He told me to watch out for mini-vans as that was how he’d lost his leg.) gave me directions. 

I guess you could say I know where I am ... but where is this in the big picture?

I was good … except, as usual, I went the wrong way.  (I’m so glad that Wrong Way road name is already taken.)  I ended up in Hampton, Iowa, after wandering around out in the middle of the farmland.  But, I guess there was a reason as I found some of those barn quilts so I had my photos. 

This was the first one I could get a half-decent photo of, and it's colorful.  I've learned that barn quilts are large pieces of would painted to look like quilt squares.  They are usually painted on 8-foot-square boards, although sizes do vary, and they are mounted on a barn or other building. Cloth quilts are made of multiple squares while barn quilts are normally just one square.  Most barn quilts are made of simple geometric shapes like squares, rectangles and triangles and solid colors that makes them easier to create and to see from a distance.  However,  there are custom ones painted as they reflect a certain meaning such as honoring a loved one, or because of a name.  Corn and beans are popular ones. 

Some of them are quite beautiful with lots of color.  I was fascinated with these barn quilts now as I'd seen a few, and they were absolutely gorgeous.



The earliest versions of barn quilts have been around for hundreds of years.  Barns were not painted in earlier years but were decorated with folk art, including the quilt blocks once paint was readily available and affordable.  In the 2000s barn quilts started showing up again.  The first quilt trail started in Ohio, which is a trail of quilts that are mapped together and can be visited. 

This isn't my best shot, but helps to represent what the barn quilts look like.  The American Quilt Trail is a collection of hundreds of quilts, and I think it would be fun to follow it for a bit to see these beautiful pieces of art.   But, that would be another trip, I hope.

 I finally found my way back to Highway 65, but my engine light came on briefly, twice.  Crap.  It’s always something.  I tried to call the Harley shop in the next town, Mason City, but I had no cell service.  They most likely closed at 6 p.m. and it was 5:38.  I raced toward Mason City knowing I had 25 miles probably to go. 

When I arrived at Mason City HD, it was closed.  I rode around the building to find out what time they opened, but couldn’t read the signs.  I noticed a vehicle behind me, watching or so it seemed.  I’d pulled up next to the building and the vehicle pulled in in front of me.  He asked if I was okay.  I explained my problem.  He’s a mechanic there and was just leaving.  He showed me the code lights and then got a book to check it out and the owner came out.  They both checked and said I had power, volts and so on, and it appeared to be a malfunction of a sensor.  They reset the light and I was on my way.  It has not come on since then and I’ve gone a few hundred miles or better. 

And sometimes you just get the best shot for, a tractor dieseling up at the local gas station.  I guess they use diesel.  I really don't know.  These gents were kind enough to pose for me when I told them I'd be putting this photo in my travel blog.

I made it to Minnesota, Albert Lea, and was figuring I’d like to go further since I still had some daylight, but didn’t want to tackle Minneapolis-St. Paul and the surrounding areas.  I thought I’d go to the west and then cut north.  But, again, someone watches over me.  I spoke to a rider in Albert Lea and he said if I traveled I-494/94 through the cities it would save me a lot of time and at that time of the day, after 7 p.m., the traffic would be a breeze.  He said running 80 mph he made it through in an hour and 15.  I said I don’t run that fast or like riding in the dark, but he assured me I’d get through it by dark even not riding 80 mph.

Off I went, running my usual 65-70 mph.  The road was well marked and I ran easily through the city.  By the time I popped out a bit to the west side of Minneapolis, it was getting close to dark and I wanted to get off the road.  Of course, now I couldn’t find a hotel.  Then I saw it, a California Inn and Suites.  I found my way to the parking lot and it looked a bit more upscale than I did.  Oh well.  In I went and they had a room on the ground floor.  I was off the road just as the sun set, and I was glad for that.  Plus, now I was only about a hundred miles, give or take a few, from my destination.  Yahoo!!!

On Friday, August 1, I needed to make my way north to near Garrison, Minnesota, (Highway 169) to find the Bogan clan.  I was getting excited as I knew there were 100 coming, cousins and families.  I also knew I’d never remember any names except for some that I’d met at a previous reunion I’d been to some 30 years plus ago. 

I dilly-dallied around and didn’t get on the road until 9:40 a.m.  That’s not normal for me, but I find that on this trip, 9, 9:30, it doesn’t matter.  Maybe I’m enjoying it and relaxing more.  I don’t know.  Or maybe I was dreading getting back out onto the Interstate, or meeting my cousins, or who knows what??

At the front desk I asked to be sure I knew how to get back to the Interstate.  I found out I was only 7 exits from where I needed to be to head north toward St. Cloud, Minnesota, which would then get me to Highway 169 and heading toward my final destination for a few days.  The gal said to turn right.  In looking at the road signs I thought I needed to go left, but followed her directions.  This time it was not my fault for going the wrong way.  I should have paid attention to my instincts on this one, but so often they’re wrong.  A couple miles down to the next exit to turn around and I was back on track, running three and four lanes one-way of Interstate and keeping up with the best, or the worst, of them.

From there on, it was easy riding, until I stopped for gas.  Now I had oil on my bike.  Good grief.  Another Harley shop was in my sights for the day.  I was hoping it was an easy answer, like overflow out of the breather, but for me, it often is not. 

I stopped at Elk River Harley (Zylstra) and the guy there said the oil had been overfilled, they couldn’t pull any of it out, but I’d be fine.  Yay.  Back on the road … after the purchase of a shirt and a couple of poker chips for my collector friends, and a dip dot for my map.  My map has dip dots and pins of shops I’ve visited over the years, so it’s quite covered … but it’s a hobby of mine so I know where I’ve been, mostly.  The little glitches on this trip is probably HD’s way of getting me to stop at nearly every shop.  I have passed up a few … that were open.  Haha!!!

Onward, to Highway 169.  I came to the Mille Lacs Grand Casino/Hotel and figured I’d stop since this is where I was staying.  Maybe I could register early???  It was probably a little after noon, and lucky for me, my room was ready.  I was in. 

Maybe I got lost a time or two, or three ... whatever.  I made it ... and will now make contact with some of my cousins.  Yahoo!!!  I'm here ... destination for a few days ... and maybe a fortune to be made.  Don't worry, Hobbs.  I'll share.

This place, as are many casinos and hotels, huge.  But I was on the ground floor and didn’t have far to go from the registration desk.  The hotel is separated from the casino, so I couldn’t smell smoke, which is a plus, as I’d walked through the casino earlier and there are a lot of smoking gamblers.  Not smoking HOT gamblers, just smokers.  I found another entrance. 

I texted my cousin, Kate, that I had arrived.  Yahoo.  Contact.  I’d go out to the house on the lake that my Cousin Jim and his family has.

A stop for a map check, and I made it; actually, it was quite easy to find.  A few of my other cousins were there and I helped them do a little prep work for the big day on Saturday.  We even shucked a hundred ears of corn.  I was a bit slow at that.

Cousins Bill and Mike (from left), and Cousin Chris's husband, Steve, shucking corn.

Cousins Kate and Chris ... I was a slow little shucker ... my excuse is because I'm behind the camera.  We had 100 ears to shuck for the big barbeque the next day.  There are 107 registered to come to the reunion.  That's a lot of  Bogans and relations.

We had time for a few of the “Harley” photos, and then it was back to the casino to register and get ready for meeting in the hospitality room for a bit. 

My Cousin Kate, instrumental in setting up the family reunion and getting me there.  She'd asked some time ago if there was a cousin reunion if I would come.  "Sure," I said.  She made it happen.  I had to come and was glad I did.

Cousin Bill from Hawaii.

Cousins Mike and Chris.

The hospitality room at the casino filled slowly but was then packed.  I met cousins I’d never met, renewed acquaintances with ones I’d not seen in years, and saw ones that had not been even thought of when I was last around family.  What a great time and how good I felt to know these were my people.

 

That's one beautiful ham sandwich.  A gentleman named Chuck Rice passed away and some of my cousins were at his Celebration of Life.  Chuck had attended a number of celebrations and partook of the food.  Because of that he was very specific about his celebration when it came time.  He did not want a single slice of chinzy ham.  He wanted two slices.  The sandwiches made for his celebration contained two slices of "real" ham, the kind cut off a ham, not the packaged luncheon meat you get at the store.  The only problem was that the church would not allow the sandwiches in ... no outside food could  be brought in.  So my cousins were told to take the sandwiches to the Bogan Family Reunion.  We were eating  dead man's food.  But I had one and it was so yummy.  Thanks, Chuck Rice.  I love you, too.

My Uncle Mike and me.  He's my dad's brother.

 

My Aunt Helen (wife of Louis who has passed) came in, and it brought me to tears to see her.  It was 1994 when I last saw her.  We gave motorcycle rides to her, Louis and Cousin Janie.  It was wonderful to see her as there is only Mike, one of my dad's siblings left, his wife and Helen.  She's a grand lady, and we shared some wonderful memories.  They weren't sure she would attend, but as I understood from her, she wouldn't have missed it.  I love my Aunt Helen.  She's sent me cards and notes over the years keeping me a bit up-to-date on some of the family and I've so enjoyed an appreciated it.


Then it was down to the casino for a bit ... $20 into various penny machines.  I now have a $22.91 cashout voucher.  Yay.  But will I keep it?