We go from snow to summer as we indulge on some pb+j and pass some wind turbine propellers.
Inspired by the massive propellers, we go on an off-road hunt for their new home.
The American Mid-West.
Getting closer to the target.
The new American Mid-West.
Look closely. Boman blazes some more trails while I take photos.
We arrive at the Erickson estate in Osceola, Iowa. Jesse gives us a grand tour.
You might recognize Jesse from our Venice Beach stint. He's moving to Australia in a week for a new job, but squeezes in some time for more family portraits.
As our luck would have it, the annual Demolition Derby is tonight.
Although these cars look like dead scrap metal, they are custom-built to search and destroy other cars....without GPS.
The excitement builds as we build up the nerve to approach complete strangers.
Fortunately, they are mostly all very open to sharing their vehicle with us. The gentleman who drove this car has a dead bird in the side door for good luck.
Some of these folks drop $10,000 - $15,000 to make their car bullet proof.
#22 and his girlfriend.
#29 is the only female in the demolition.
The human skull is a trophy from a previous demolition derby. Actually, it's from Spencers.
The last two cars left running move on to the next round. Crash! Bang! There's nothing more American than organized chaos.
Thick mud flings 30-40 feet in the air and into the crowd. Things start to get serious.
Some people get really close to yell advice to their friends. Some pay the consequences. Leave your Gucci loafers at home for this one folks.
Most cars need a lift after each round.
Jesse enjoys a Doritos chip to couple the chaos. A extreme combo if you ask me.
It's an event that brings the community together. We are told that there is a lot of money riding on the outcome of this derby.
"I love the smell of Derby engine fuel in the morning."
#54 advances to the next round.
Jesse and Boman work up the nerve to sit front row, which is quite fond of derby mud.
"The car looks great!"
The final round involves at least 20 cars, which can be heard from miles around.
The Erickson's make you take off your shoes for some reason.
There are three bars in Osceola, and we decide to experience all of them.
The first bar has delicious frozen pizza.
The third and final destination spells trouble. It turns out that Osceola isn't quite fond of Boman's dance moves. It also turns out that the one-legged, all-leather drummer hates Boman's drum beat. And it comes as no surprise that this dribbly fellow despises Boman's cowboy hat, and insists Boman isn't a "real cowboy." Little does he know that we rode mules 12 miles and 3,200 feet into the Grand Canyon. But we're severely outnumbered, so keep that tidbit to ourselves.
I have flashbacks to the movie Easy Rider, so we scurry out of there and take a detour home after being harrassed by a pick-up truck full of "real cowboys." This spawns a long conversation about Jesse's hometown, rural America, and the delicious tree fruit that falls behind Jesse's parent's hotel. We're not quick to judge, but we sure were judged quickly this night. "You have a cowboy hat on, but ya dressed all techno!"
We go from snow to summer as we indulge on some pb+j and pass some wind turbine propellers.
Inspired by the massive propellers, we go on an off-road hunt for their new home.
The American Mid-West.
Getting closer to the target.
The new American Mid-West.
Look closely. Boman blazes some more trails while I take photos.
We arrive at the Erickson estate in Osceola, Iowa. Jesse gives us a grand tour.
You might recognize Jesse from our Venice Beach stint. He's moving to Australia in a week for a new job, but squeezes in some time for more family portraits.
As our luck would have it, the annual Demolition Derby is tonight.
Although these cars look like dead scrap metal, they are custom-built to search and destroy other cars....without GPS.
The excitement builds as we build up the nerve to approach complete strangers.
Fortunately, they are mostly all very open to sharing their vehicle with us. The gentleman who drove this car has a dead bird in the side door for good luck.
Some of these folks drop $10,000 - $15,000 to make their car bullet proof.
#22 and his girlfriend.
#29 is the only female in the demolition.
The human skull is a trophy from a previous demolition derby. Actually, it's from Spencers.
The last two cars left running move on to the next round. Crash! Bang! There's nothing more American than organized chaos. 
Thick mud flings 30-40 feet in the air and into the crowd. Things start to get serious.
Some people get really close to yell advice to their friends. Some pay the consequences. Leave your Gucci loafers at home for this one folks.
Most cars need a lift after each round.
Jesse enjoys a Doritos chip to couple the chaos. A extreme combo if you ask me.
It's an event that brings the community together. We are told that there is a lot of money riding on the outcome of this derby.
"I love the smell of Derby engine fuel in the morning."
#54 advances to the next round.
Jesse and Boman work up the nerve to sit front row, which is quite fond of derby mud.
"The car looks great!"
The final round involves at least 20 cars, which can be heard from miles around.
The Erickson's make you take off your shoes for some reason.
There are three bars in Osceola, and we decide to experience all of them.
The first bar has delicious frozen pizza.
The third and final destination spells trouble. It turns out that Osceola isn't quite fond of Boman's dance moves. It also turns out that the one-legged, all-leather drummer hates Boman's drum beat. And it comes as no surprise that this dribbly fellow despises Boman's cowboy hat, and insists Boman isn't a "real cowboy." Little does he know that we rode mules 12 miles and 3,200 feet into the Grand Canyon. But we're severely outnumbered, so keep that tidbit to ourselves.
I have flashbacks to the movie Easy Rider, so we scurry out of there and take a detour home after being harrassed by a pick-up truck full of "real cowboys." This spawns a long conversation about Jesse's hometown, rural America, and the delicious tree fruit that falls behind Jesse's parent's hotel. We're not quick to judge, but we sure were judged quickly this night. "You have a cowboy hat on, but ya dressed all techno!"
