It’s not the going

Science and art are often competing interests but not at Lakeside Labs, not for the three days of talk, laughter, and camaraderie at the Okoboji Writers’ and Songwriters’ Retreat.

Three hundred people gathered at Little Miller’s Bay on West Lake Okoboji at the end of September. This retreat, in its fifth year, brings people from thousands of miles to soak in the beauty and battle the no-see-ums at this 147-acre gem of a place.

Founded by University of Iowa professor Thomas McBride in 1909, Lakeside Laboratories is rustic and pastoral. In the 1930s, the Civilian Conservation Corps built stone cabins on the grounds. Rough-hewn and sturdy, these cabins all share a distinctive look with CCC structures in every corner of the state.

At the retreat, there was a running joke that this place is so hard to get to, but the experience is so important, that the difficulty is a worthy payoff. Frankly, I’m a little tired of hearing about how out-of-the way we are in northwest Iowa.

For Art Cullen and me, it was an easy drive to this three-day mecca of inspiration, and we are owed that. Everywhere else, for us, is far beyond. I can’t speak for Art, but when I hear such complaints about the distance, I want to say, “Cry me a river.”

This isn’t the Camino de Santiago, and it’s certainly not the Santa Muerte crawling ritual. It’s a drive through Iowa farmland, and for people used to buildings and landmarks, well, this is different.

A friend from Des Moines attended the retreat for the first time. She made a comment about the interminability of Highway 20, but she doesn’t know the half of it. She’s never driven from Sioux City to Dubuque.

Traveling “20” used to be an endless slog, zigzagging through a parade of small towns. Now you can whiz along at 65 miles per hour and make good time, and yes, there are endless stretches of open country. Anyone who lives surrounded by people might be forgiven if they think they are traveling to the back of beyond.

Even amidst the complaints of navigating to this nowhereland, people did notice the particular beauty of the rolling prairie land, the open sky, the benign blessing of goodness that exists despite our fouled waters.

Singer Harry Chapin in “Greyhound” sang that “it’s got to be the going, not the getting there, that’s good,” but I’m pretty sure that most of the attendees at the Okoboji Writers’ and Songwriters’ Retreat disagree with that sentiment.

Still, they keep making the trek to the writers’ retreat, some of them come every year. Getting there is good. So is the going home. In-between is a darn good time.

After Art Cullen hounded her for years, Joan Zwagerman started writing this column after attending the writers’ retreat last year. Thanks, Art!