Spring has sprung in the Midwest, and we’ve been on the receiving end of our yearly scheduled deluge of rains that help turn a brown world, hanging on from a long, cold winter, into a land of greenery. It’s something close to the heart of any born-and-raised Midwesterner; we trade the ice and snow for wind and rain, and we are happy for some respite before the sweltering heat of summer drives us back inside.

Of course, all this water brings with it other treasures from up North, in the form of nitrates and other such things being washed cleanly off those squares of black gold that make up our landscape. Field tiles spew a never-ending stream of dirt into ditches and streams, eventually joining with thousands of others, making the long journey south along our major waterways.

This was the hot topic last year, but quickly forgotten amid a world full of wars and rumors of wars.

The water in the Great Des Moines area, today, is just as dirty and filled with our collective sins as it has ever been.

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Most people would walk right past this place without ever knowing what happened here.

Hidden along the Boone River in Iowa sits an old cemetery… and a story that feels more like a frontier nightmare than Midwest history. This is the story of Henry Lott. A settler. A conflict with the Sioux.

A boy who froze to death trying to escape. A mother who didn’t survive the aftermath. And years later… a brutal act of revenge that didn’t just end with one man. It didn’t stop there.

What happened next helped spark one of the most violent chapters in Iowa history. In this video, I visit the actual location where this story unfolded, exploring the land, the remains of the past, and the reality of life on the frontier in the mid-1800s.

This isn’t a clean story. There are no clear heroes. Just a harsh reminder of what life was really like on the edge of expansion.

The transition from fall to winter is a special and enjoyable time in Iowa. The first few snowstorms have come and gone, and those green monsters have gobbled up the endless plains of corn and soybeans. It’s quite a different world from the hot and steamy days of summer. The land lies bare, almost naked, stripped of its yellow gold that seems to drive the beating heart of the state.

I mean, if you don’t know any better, heck, those summertime rolling fields in the evening are what make Iowa … Iowa.

But those endless fields of central Iowa, unbroken for mile upon mile, do come with a darker side. Some of those dark sides have come to light in the rains of the summer, with the suburban lawn waterers only angry about the water quality as far as it affected their ability to keep up with the Joneses.

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This, my friend, is a story as old as time, and anyone with some critical thinking skills can read the writing on the wall. Hopefully, history proves me wrong, that would be nice, but very doubtful.

The Iowa DNR and the Governor’s office have been the bane of Iowa Outdoors for a long time, and we’ve all paid the price and continue to do so. Sometimes I feel like I’m living in a real-life Netflix series about a cadre of people who are literally trying to destroy the land we live on and the water we drink, all while the Tahoe-driving, Starbucks-drinking lemmings go about their business unaware.

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Tired of all the politics and hubbub of Des Monies life? Need to be reminded that some of Iowa’s water is less polluted than others? If so, then you should head to NE Iowa in search of beautiful fall hiking down in the valleys where the cold clear streams run clean and the trout are just waiting to jump out of the water for you.

Even if you are no fisher, the hiking along is worth it. I caught the brood rainbow trout of a lifetime at Bear Creek in the Iowa Driftless. With stops at Sny McGill, Buck Creek, and Mink Creek, it was a weekend to remember.

Fall is here and so is the camp fire. When a little cold bit hits the air in the morning, the leaves start to change, and the warm sun feels good on your face … you know it’s time to get that hiking stick and head into the woods. A little hot fire, a pan, some bread and honey, this is the simple life.

The Midwest at it’s best.

Well, you know, at least the truth has finally come out. Remember that Rob Sand, who is the “Governor of All?” According to the talking heads and their daydreaming wishes, the “moderate” Rob Sand would be able to lure some Trump supporters, and at the very least, moderates and independents over the line. 

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