It was a 16.8 mile route to Homestead. Highway 6 is parallel to the railroad so it was mostly level. At Marengo I chose not to go by Grandma and Grandpa Zahrt’s house. As I remember the last time I went to the location, the house had been demolished and replaced. I went by the Cemetery but I don’t know where their stones are, so I decided not to spend a lot of time in the cemetery. One of the stones readable from the highway read ‘John Zahrt’. I’m sure he would have been a relation of mine!
I looked forward to Homestead because that’s where we had our meal for those attending our wedding 55 years ago. The building is still there but it is no longer a restaurant. Homestead is an Amish community and most of the residential area is off from Hwy 6. A fellow that established a community store/produce center hosted us. He let us use his grounds. There were a series of meetings in the afternoon. Gavain returned and indicated his truck is not worth repairing. So we’ll have to find another way to pull the Commode. A new Marcher from Iowa has arranged for his brother to pull it to West Branch. We have a stay-day in Coralville/Iowa City so that will give us some time to find an alternative. (Did you notice in the picture of the windmill on the hood of Gavain's truck? One resourceful guy! Bet he is in mourning. lz)
I spent my time journaling and setting up the tent. The evening meal was provided for us—a series of casseroles in aluminum pans. It was delicious and nutritious. A neighbor brought some rhubarb—stalks, leaves, and all—and dropped it on one of the tables. I discovered it, found a cutting board and a knife, and ‘dressed’ it up. When Mary (one of our self-described kitchen-maids) came by I asked what she would do with the rhubarb. She didn’t know and asked what I would do with it. I spelled out the steps and she asked me to cook the rhubarb for breakfast. That would mean getting up at 4:30 AM so I went to bed.