06/10/2002 - 5:07 p.m.

Going to feel it in the morning.

Well folks, today yours truly had quite the adventure (the very long adventure, probably the single longest adventure of her career as diarist, you've been forewarned). I'll start at the beginning so that I get it all down so that tomorrow, you will all be aware of exactly how much pain I will be feeling. That way you won't think I'm just a sissy.

Last night, I was playing The Sims. And downloading things. A lot of things. The first step is admitting it's a problem, right, well... I glanced at my watch after I'd been playing "an hour or so" to discover that seven hours had frittered away and it was then six o clock in the morning. I had two choices before me, one, just stay awake, or two, get four hours sleep and wake up in time for the first meal in the dining centre. I went with choice number two.

Oddly enough, I awoke exactly one minute before my alarm was scheduled to go off and was not in the least tired. Perhaps this has something to do with me waking up at one the day before... At any rate, I woke up and got all ready.

As you will remember today was scheduled as ghost hunt day, and so I gathered the necessary supplies. Man-beater Mag-Lite (you know, the foot and a half long version, I don't care if it's daylight, I'm still a girl wandering about on my own), bike trail map with approximate location of cemetary circled (an area of about two miles), camera, water bottle, pencil, paper, mobile (never mind that I've still not got anyone I could call), put on my sweater with the elbow pads, put on my stocking hat that I've had since Kindergarten (and the reason for finally making the new one) and set out on my journey.

First I decided to drop by the one room schoolhouse located on campus. It's all closed up and vacated, and I can't see that it's ever been opened, or anything, but I took some pictures anyway.

I headed off down the bike trail at about 11. It was a gorgeous day, no rain, somewhere in the low to mid 60s, big fluffy clouds, and 45 mile per hour gusts of wind (those were... fun). I got off on Main street and passed the point in which I had any prior knowledge of Cedar Falls.

It was at this point I happened upon The Stone House. That's precisely what it was. A sort of medium sized brick house fenced with a chest high iron fence (the type with spikes on it) and right outside the door, in the wall, was the name "The Stone House". It looked as though it hadn't been used in years, except that the lawn was mowed (in disrepair, but mowed), and there was a garden hose coiled up in a corner. The windows all had blinds on them so it was impossible to see in. I suppose I might've knocked at the door, but I decided against it. I did take a picture, whatever my opinions as to its occupancy I was quite taken with the house. I stopped again to take a look at the tree that stood in the yard, all the other trees were conifers, and so to see a buckeye tree in their midst was quite peculiar. Now, everyone knows that buckeyes are lucky (though poisonous) so I had to look for one. I found a rather perfect one and it's here with me now. I took it as a good omen and rode on.

I passed through the old "downtown" area of Cedar Falls, the place with the nice little stores all lined up on either side and selling antiques and furniture and hardware and all manner of shops run by locals (rather than by Wal-Mart). I didn't see a single shop on the entire street that was open. Coming from Des Moines, I just expect things to be open, and so I marvel when they aren't.

At this point, I crossed the Cedar River (having come about two and a half miles) and consulting the bike trail map, realised I had a choice to make. I am bound for the trail going to Black Hawk Park. The trail (on the map) takes three distinct different directions from the same place and only one of them goes to the park. The trail (in reality) goes one way. So I go that way.

I expect that when I saw the sign for George Wyth park, I should've stopped and checked things out then. No, I didn't. Just kept on going. About two and a half miles later it's one o clock and I see a sign pointing towards Black Hawk Park back the way I came about 5 and a half miles. Sure enough, I took out my map, I had the wrong trail. Back that two miles I go and this time I find the right trail. At least, I hope so. According to the map, I should come to a trail head with a bathroom in a few miles or so.

Lo and behold, the trail opens onto a big lake with a bathroom looking structure nearby. I realise that although there are two sides to this bathroom, there are no signs to say which side belongs to which sex. I pick the right side (that's customarily the women's, for some reason) and venture in curiously. There are no stalls. There is no ceiling. There is no sink. There is a hole with a toilet seat on it and a toilet paper dispenser. Now, I hate outhouses with a passion that burns like a red flame in my heart, but I also am not liking the prospect of finding a spot in the woods someplace that's got toilet paper. And I figure, well, no roof, it rains in a lot...

The actual toilet is just fine. No problems. However, I go to pull out the toilet paper, and what flies out with it? A hornet. A big freaking hornet.

Now, I'm not a huge fan of hornets. They're evil buggers and no mistake. So it really does not impress me that one should be in such close contact with me when I am most seriously sitting there with my pants round my ankles. So, where does this creature choose to land? Not back in the toilet paper dispenser, oh no.

Yes, you guessed it. I had a hornet in my jeans.

Now, the thing about hornets is that they will sting for just about any reason, even if they just feel like it. And, they don't DIE like bees do, so if they feel like it they can sting two or three times. I have no reasons on earth to want this insectoid to sting any very tender nether regions it is currently very close to, but I'd rather not sit there perfectly silently waiting for it to go away. Then, I also don't want to kill it. Is there such a thing as a trilemma? Because that's what I had.

I decided that since it was just sitting there in the crotch of my jeans, that maybe if I got enough toilet paper, I could pick him up and throw him far enough that I wouldn't have any problems. I go to take more toilet paper and a SECOND hornet flies out. This one is kinder to me than his relation and flies away. However, I don't know how many more could still be sitting in there.

Did I mention that I still have a live hornet wandering around in my jeans?

So, I find him, and I try to pick him up without getting him angry or me stung. Missed him. I think I was exremely lucky it was cold, becuase otherwise, that would've been one very pissed off hornet. It is my assumption that the cold was killing him, and so he was saving his strength to find warmth.

It was at this point he flew down the leg of my jeans. I remained calm, and I admit I was very surprised at this action on my part. Most of me was waiting for me to start screaming or crying or something, but I didn't. I can't explain it. Terror has a very subdued effect on me, I guess. Well, I didn't know where he was, but the only thing for me to do at this point was to stand up, and take my leg (carefully) out of my pants.

This is the point at which I beg all of you to remember that the stall had no door, and the bathroom had made no attempt at sex discrimination. If anyone had walked in, I would've been in a right sort of pickle.

I survived. A few quick shakes of the pant leg and he was out of there. I've never put my pants on so fast in my life. Even though all the hornet did was buzz to the ground a few feet away, I decided to show mercy. Yes, even after the few moments of sheer terror he put me through, I spared his life. That's my good deed for the rest of the week I think.

I got back on my bike and rode out of there as fast as I possibly could. I was only about three miles away from the cemetary at this point. I found it at about two thirty, took my pictures and left. It really was a nice sort of cemetary, the oldest tombstones easy to distinguish from the newer ones. A few war veterans (Civil, I, II, and Korea), a lot of toddlers and infants, very nice place all in all and I hope I get some results.

By this time, the wind had kicked up something dreadful and it was beginning to be really cold. If I have any orbs in my cemetary pictures, I think I'm just going to have to assume they're dust, but then again...

So, I rode back to Main Street fairly uneventfully. I still had an hour or so to kill before I really needed to be back, so I stopped at a little red schoolhouse sitting behind the visitors centre. I thought if no one was inside, I could take some pictures, and maybe I could anyway.

Well, the place was being looked after by a little old lady who seemed as though she'd had no one to talk to since about noon that day. I decided to tell her my speech was about old buildings and stories behind them, cautiously adding "ghost stories would be nice". She wasn't too impressed about the ghosts part, so I'm glad I hadn't told her about my actual goal.

I didn't get any pictures, but that woman certainly had a lot to say. She told me all about the school building, where it'd been moved from, and the history and all, and then about a dozen or so other buildings in the area. The Ice House, the Rownd barn (although it really is round) and a couple other things. I asked about "The Stone House", and she told me that she didn't think it was in anything special, but it was funny that I'd ask about it.

Apparently, it was owned for almost forever by a woman who used to be an art teacher at UNI. She was what the woman referred to as "a character". She remembers that once she had to go to her house for an art class, and, well, she wasn't sure how many cats the woman had, but the house was certainly overrun with cats. The other thing she remembered about that visit was that the teacher had made all kinds of plates of cookies especially for her students, and the cats probably had more than the class did. The only thing she couldn't remember, the woman's name.

I'm glad I didn't knock at the door, I'd probably have been greeted by an old woman with a cat in one hand and a plate of cookies in the other.

So, now I've got a resource for anything I ever want to know about history in the greater Cedar Falls area.

By this time it was 3:45 and I'd probably spoken to the woman between half an hour and 45 minutes.

I rode back through town and passed "The Stone House" again. Half fancied I could hear cats, and see eyes from the windows, it's just that sort of place- tells a story just by your looking at it.

Then I rode down another block to find the "Victorian House" that the woman had refferred to which is the headquarters for the local Historical Society. It was closed. However, on this street, I passed this extraordinarily flamboyant house- red and yellow and either bright blue or green. Just absolutely gaudy with colour. Of course I took a picture of it. I have a few more pictures that need taking and it's my plan to get them all developed on Tuesday after I'm done with work. Monday Tuesday and Wednesday morning I intend to write my speech.

I would do it now, but every single part of my body is screaming at me. I'm so glad I checked my messages when I got back first thing so that I knew there was no rehearsal this evening. I must've ridden a total of 17 miles today, which is 17 more miles than I've ever ridden at one time in my whole life. It's only about 3 miles to the mall and back.

And yes, I am highly aware that, had I been capable of driving it, it would've taken one hour rather than four. But I had fun, so there!