Corn bowl Minnesota

Roadside sign:

“Eat Steak. Wear Furs. Keep Guns. The American Way.”

I think we’re in Minnesota.

If there was a “Welcome to Minnesota” sign, I missed it. There was a sign reminding motorists to use seat belts. I think that designates that we are no longer in South Dakota where, like New Hampshire, motorcycle helmets are not compulsory and nor are seat belts by the look of it.

It is more corn country. "Corn as high as an elephant’s knee", says Bruce. That’s his hybrid corn joke. These days they have bred corn low and stocky instead of tall and wavy.

And, gee, there is a lot of it.

Monoculture almost.

We pass through nice, neat, prosperous towns.

Davison, population 1500, with railways and silos.

Montevideo, pop 5383, more silos, more corn. It is a lush little town.

The landscape begins to undulate. Trees are appearing. Getting bigger and bigger.

Here is the Minnesota River.

And the trees go river huge. They are tall walls on either side of the road. No big sky.

Rain.

A town called Sacred Heart. It is verdant and pretty, quite a contrast to the voices on PBS radio saying that “PTSD is being black”. There is a lot of black rage being expressed following the massacre of five Texas cops. “To be black is to be stigmatised.” “We need the Governor’s mansion as a location for healing workshops.”

My Australian mindset keeps thinking that guns are a big issue with all these black deaths and white

deaths. Why does no one want to talk about the guns?

We drive through Renville, population 1,287. A proud little town. It has a self-serve produce stand at the roadside. We don’t stop since we don’t have a kitchen.

And we’re back in the open lands of corn fields.

Danube, population 505. Lawns and silos, Soy crops. Corn fields, Vast,

smooth acreages, green corn and golden wheat.

And then Olivia hoves into view.

Olivia is a big town. It is a renowned town. It is THE CORN CAPITAL of the USA, possibly the world.

Yep.

It has ears of corn exquisitely depicted in lacy metal adorning all the light poles through the town.

It has corn banners hanging from light poles. Corn rampant.

But….We have read that Olivia has a giant ear of corn.

We drive from one end of the main road to the other and don’t spot it. We check out a couple of broad side streets.

No big corn.

Hmm.

Lunch, then.

There seems to be only one possibility, a wee cafe adjacent to the Christian Drop-in Centre and opposite a massive array of

immense, towering, huge, giant concrete silos. No big corn, but bloody huge silos.

The cafe is utterly darling and welcoming.

We saw no-one on the streets of Olivia and realise now that they are all in the drop-in cafe. Nice ladies are grouped around lots of tables. We take a high stool table amid some religious iconography in the shopfront, away from the ladies but with a good view of the silos.

We order the daily special. Reuben sandwiches all round. I ask if there is any chance of a cup of tea. “Yes, of course!” declares the affable proprietor, proffering a pot of boiling water and a bowl of teabags. After much rummaging among decaf green, yellow, red, gold and herbal teas, I find one ancient Lipton’s teabag and, after begging some real milk instead of the American creamer stuff, I have me a proper cuppa. It is the first cup of tea I have had in over a month. It is the best cup of tea ever.

The Reubens aren’t bad, either.

Nor is their little unisex rest room. One can't help but pause and admire its unusual reading matter.

“So where’s the big ear of corn?” we ask, as we leave.

It seems we drove right past it. We retrace our steps to the end of town, do a U-turn and drive very slowly. How can something so big be so hard to spot?

It turns out that the surrounding trees have quite eclipsed, the Corn Capital of America’s giant ear of corn.

It also turns out that the Corn Capital of the USA and possibly the world is such because it was founded by the farmer who pioneered Trojan seeds. Olivia is proud of its reputation for aggressive farming practises by the local corn farmers and and it has attracted all the GM companies there are. Inside the pavilion beneath the giant corn are photographs and acknowledgements. Needless to say, Monsanto stars.

Bruce and I disagree on the issue of genetic engineering. We keep the peace by saying very little as we drive out of Olivia, past the vast corn crops with their experimental code flags identifying whatever the high-tech newness of them is.

Oh, and here’s a sign for Bird Island. Population 1000.

I look it up to brighten the atmosphere in the car.

It seems it was named for its bird sanctuary - but the local farmers installed ditches to irrigate the farms and drained the reason for the town’s title. Oh, well.

We listen to more of Minnesota’s Public Radio. They’re talking about racial hatred.

“Families and colleague of the slain police are feeling pain but it is nothing to the pain the black community overall has had to feel,” says a Dallas community leader.

“Yes, they did carry guns to their peaceful protest. They own them legally!”

A town called Cosmos passes. Lovely name. It has a sunflower crop.

Buffalo, population 732. Silos.

Flags at half mast in all the towns.

Stewart passes. Power poles and silos.

Oh, look, this must be Minneapolis.