If you're driving through central Iowa on a Thursday, do yourself a favor and stop at P.H.A.T. Daddy's Restaurant in the little town of Marengo. I popped in for a sandwich and stayed for the night.
 A group of pickers, with guitars and banjos play together every Thursday evening at Phat Daddy's, a local Marenge, IA restaurant. Through word of mouth, various people have joined to play in the relaxed atmosphere among other pickers.
Every Thursday, local guitar and banjo players gather for a pick-up session. If you've got a guitar, just come on in and set yourself down.
This is the way music is supposed to be. These guys play for fun, not money - and it shows. No one says, "We've been playing for 40 minutes, time for a break." They're having too much fun to take breaks.
You've got a bunch of guys dressed like farmers, or doctors or salesmen or whatever else they were doing when before they picked up their guitar and headed out the door
They sit around a big, beer-cluttered table and play bluegrass or whatever else strikes their fancy.
John Johnson, a retired professional musician, travels more than 50 miles to play on Thursdays.
"In a band it's pretty disciplined. Here you just have a good time," he said.
The sessions started in a nearby real estate office, but soon there were too many players. They moved to a tavern then to Phat Daddies, where they ask no money and pay for their own beers.
They'll do songs everyone knows (dueling banjos is a constant audience request) but they'll also try to think of songs they haven't heard or played for a while - and sometimes they'll forget the words. That's part of the fun - except for the poor soul who can't finish the song he started. The others have a good time at his expense.
Travis and I heard standards like Amazing Grace and lesser known songs like Tonight the Bottle Let Me Down and Truck Driving'Man.
Cashier Debbie Jones says she works Thursdays just hear the music.
"I love Thursday nights because they're here. We do get more customers because of them," she said.
Every week, they play Debbie's special song, Amanda. She won't say what's so special about the tune, but it does bring back memories.
"It always makes me cry," she said.
THE GRAND EXPERIMENT
More than 70 years ago, Bruce Knowles was on a trip with his dad when he saw an endless row of farmers, each behind a horse, plowing a field near Homestead, Iowa.
"There must have bee at least forty of them, side-by-side. They moved along the field together. One pass and the whole field was done. I thought it was remarkable," Bruce said.
Bruce was just a kid, of course, so his dad explained that they were driving through the Amana Colonies where people lived and worked as one family.
Bruce and his dad were witnessing the last days of one of the world's longest lasting communal societies.
 South Amana, is one village out of the original seven Amana Colonies in IA. This South Amana home is characteristic in appearance - with flower beds and grape trellises on the sides of houses which supply fruit and shade the building.
The colonies were founded in the 1850s by the Community of True Inspiration - a religious group from Germany. Families were assigned living quarters and jobs in fields, or in factories, or in the large community kitchens where everyone ate.
Bruce and his dad passed through the area just before the Inspirationalists voted to disband the communal life style in 1932.
"That was called The Great Change," said Mary Ann Fels, who grew up in Amana and remains an Inspirationalist.
Mary Ann said the community changed on the exterior but remained a church-oriented group. Even today, the men and women sit separately in the simple, unadorned Inspirationalist church. Until the 1970s the services were in German.
Amana (which means: to remain faithful) is still a small town, but Mary Ann says it has changed since the 1960s when the village became a tourist haven. The Amana Colonies (Amana, South Amana, Middle Amana, Homestead, West Amana and High Amana) are now one of Iowa's top tourist attractions.
Shops line the once-residential main street, but you won't find a McDonalds or Gap. There are no chain stores in the colonies.
Because they spring from a German separatist religious movement like the Amish, and because there's an Amish settlement in nearby Kolona, many visitors assume there's a connection between the religious groups.
There are few similarities and there is little interaction between the communities.
Among other things, the Amish are Bible-centered while the Inspirationalists believe in mystical contact with God. You can learn more about the differences at Rod Janzen's web site on the Amanas.
And if you're wondering, "Yes!" Amana appliances got their start here.
The colonists are expert craftsmen and woodworkers. The Amana Corporation started as a maker of wooden ice boxes before it grew into a major appliance maker, competing with General Electric, Maytag and others. It was purchased recently by Maytag, which was founded in nearby Newtown, Iowa.
ICE CREAM FOLLIES
Here's an update on the Incredible Ice Cream Eatathon, my search for good ice cream.
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It's harder than I thought to find farms that make their own ice cream, but the Quad Cities area on the Illinois-Iowa border has some excellent ice cream spots.
Travis and I stopped at Lagomarcinos, Whiteys and a frozen custard stand called Country Style. Then we stopped back at Whitey's.
 Customers make a purchase at the widow of Country Style, a small ice cream stand in Moline, Illinois. County style has a variety of ice cream choices, but the malts are what the local residents really enjoy.
Whitey's has the best ice cream I've tasted since we left New England. I tried vanilla. I tried mint. I tried moose tracks (with whole peanut butter cups mixed in). I tried a shake. Hey, somebody's got to do it and I'm willing to sacrifice my cholesterol count for science.
At Lagomarcino's, I was more impressed with the hot fudge than the ice cream.
The fudge was as good as it gets. But don't ask for the recipe.
In 1912, Angelo Lagomarcino, the company's founder, bought the secret recipe from a traveling salesman in the 1912. That was a big chunk of money back then and his wife was not pleased, to put it mildly. Today, Lagomarcino's is still a family-run business and they still delight in telling that story.
And they still make the fudge in small batches and serve it in little pitchers along with the ice cream. It's nice to pour your own sauce, but it's really, really hard to get it underneath the whipped cream. I'll just have to try again the next time I visit the Quad Cities (Moline and Rock Island, Illinois and Davenport and Bettendorf, Iowa.)
I heard about Lagomarcino's and Whitey's long before I reached Quad Cities. But Country Style was a big surprise. Charlotte Doehler-Morrison, in the Q-C travel bureau told us we'd get the best malts we ever had there.
She was right.
Quad Cities folks are really lucky to have three places that good at their fingertips, or actually their toungue-tips. But New England has ice cream that's just as good - or better.
There may be lots of great ice cream places in the mid west, but other than the ones I mentioned, I haven't found them.
HERKY FOR HIRE
You can't help but notice all the Herkys in Iowa City these days. Herky, of course, is the University of Iowa's mascot, so it's never a surprise to see a Herky or two in the Hawkeyes' hometown.
But this summer, there are 75 six-foot-high statues of the big-beaked hawk on display across the city. And each has it's own persona.
There's a Ben Franklin Herky, with Ben's trademark glasses. A Van Gogh Herky in a field of sunflowers. A Rhinestone Cowgirl Herky, with rhinestone boots and a rhinestone beak.
There's The Incredible Herk, green of course, and Super Herky, rescuing children. (It's sponsored by Children's Hospital.)
 The front view of the Old limestone Capitol in Iowa City, IA overlooks the Iowa River Valley which was deeded to The University of Iowa, when the state government moved to Des Moines in 1857. When Old Capitol's cornerstone was laid on Independence Day in 1840, Iowa City became the first "permanent" capital of Iowa.
The statues will be sold in the fall as part of a fund-raiser for UI's football stadium. But the Herkys are also a testament with Iowa's City's and Iowa's love for its football teams, Iowa and Iowa State. You can start a pretty good debate by announcing that Iowa (or state) is real Iowa team.
Ask folks around here and they'll tell you all about the football teams, their records, their conferences and their coaches. There's even talk of running a special train to take spectators to the IU games.
Walk along the Iowa River and you'll find yourself in the midst of IU's campus. This is a college town and IU is THE COLLEGE. Even Kirkwood Community College has a Herky (Kirky Herky).
The river is jewel. You can walk, jog or bike along the riverway. When I walked by, Larry, a Kirkwood college student, was spending a lazy afternoon fishing for catfish and perch. There were three or four fishermen (and one woman) in the cozy spot near a Route 6 bridge.
Larry displayed his catch of catfish as he watched his line in the dark river waters. Larry misses his hometown of Chicago, but he said Iowa City is just fine.
"It's all what you make of it," he said.
HILLY IOWA
If anyone tells you Iowa's flat, tell them to ride (or walk) along Route 6 as it cuts through the state from east to west. They'll find a beautiful green countryside dotted with big cornfields, trees and, yes, hills.
 Cattle graze atop of a hilly pasture with a view of green rolling hills of corn and soybeans east of Grinnell, IA off of Route 6. Typical panorama of central Iowa terrain.
I haven't seen this many hills on Route 6 since we left Pennsylvania. I suspect Iowans spread that myth about flat Iowa just to keep folks from moving here.
They like what they have, although their cities are growing, anyway. The outskirts of Davenport, Iowa City and Des Moines all look pretty much like the mall-filled commercial strips around many cities these days.
Readers who check the walk website will know that we were plagued by thunderstorms lately. I learned that you can't out-walk a storm front. It's bigger and faster than you are, and it will get you sooner or later. On Sunday I spent three hours huddled in a golf course snack bar waiting out the lightning. (Ok, there could be worse places to huddle.)
We're into Des Moines now, and we'll be nearing the end of Iowa when we file our next report.
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