life in the glorious timberline lodge

Now that the spring semester is finally over, ecology grad students everywhere are fanning out to research sites across the globe in search of fame, fortune, and deadly parasitic infections. For me, this means studying birds in the beautiful rolling prairies of southern Iowa and northern Missouri, where thankfully the parasites are limited to mosquitoes, chiggers, and a diverse array of ticks. And yes, in the the four days since I've been here I have become intimately familiar with all of them.

For the next few weeks I will be living in the glorious Timberline Lodge, overlooking beautiful Lake "The grass is wet...is that a septic tank leaking?!".

Timberline Lodge: a less suitable moniker for this place would be exceedingly difficult. Far from being a "lodge", it is actually a cheaply-constructed addition tacked onto the back of a gun shop (oh, I'm sorry, that's "hunting outfitter") in the little town of Mt. Ayr, Iowa, more than 700 miles from the nearest timberline.

The other researcher staying here thankfully brought a giant fan with her, which we have had going full blast since we arrived, so as not to gag from the overpowering stench of mold emanating from the "bedrooms", really a couple of hastily partitioned sections of a very wet basement. I shouldn't be too down on the place, because after all, there are beds here, with sheets and everything.

Of course, those sheets look like they haven't been washed since 1972. Seriously. I was barely able to bring myself to take them off the bed they were so nasty. And when I did, I decided that I would be better served bringing my own pillows...I really don't want to sleep on something with that much of someone else's blood on it.

I'm guessing it's from bed bug bites. OK, add those to the list of encountered parasites.

At least I can sleep in my sleeping bag, which contains only my own funk. Sure, it's 15 years of funk, but it's somehow not creepy and gross when it's mine. Well, it's a little gross, but at least it's not creepy.

And did I mention the bathroom? Should I? I'll save the gory details, but suffice it to say that I wish I brought shower shoes. And from now on I think I'll leave the lights off. It's just better that way.

Just curious: If you were charging $250 a week (or more than $1000 a month) to rent out your dank basement with a single bare bulb and loose wires descending from the ceiling, wouldn't you at least do a once-over with a sponge? Anyway.

So while I miss d.w. and Chins terribly, I think everyone would agree that having him stay here would not be the most prudent course of action. Especially given his penchant for rolling around naked and stuffing everything within reach into his mouth. We're going to try to spend weekends together, although I have a feeling that means a motel. I should ask the proprietor of the Timberline Lodge if he might know a decent one.

And then again, maybe not.

[Pictures to follow this weekend, when I head back home for Mother's Day (since, you know, I want to have a home to come back to at the end of the summer). Goody goody.]

Comments

[Henitsirk]

I love Mt. Ayr's neighbor towns: Tingley, Diagonal, and Gravity. Also the Poe Hollow County Park: was the area settled by English Goths, or are they just "poe as dirt"?

Just keep telling yourself, "There's no place like home..."

[Papa Bradstein]

That sounds as good as the ranger station I was in for a summer that had e. coli in the water, a burned-out water heater element, rats, and cluster flies. Then again, when we woke up, the meadow was all ours down at the bottom of a bowl on the West slope of the Rockies, and deer would come down to graze under our windows and around our deck. I guess my point is--boil your water for at least five minutes. Ya never know.

[Danielle in Iowa]

Uh yuck. It gives me the willies just thinking about it. Also makes me happy that my field site is Ada Hayden!

Oh and thanks for the coffee and chocolate. You guys are awesome!