Journey Across the Great Barren Plains Otherwise Known as Nebraska

At the moment, I'm writing retrospectively quite a bit. I'm catching up on a couple weeks' worth of traveling. So I'll just go in the order in which things happened. I'll start with my journey across the Great Barren Plains (and by "barren" I mean boring because in reality they are anything but barren). This is also known as Illinois and Nebraska. Yes, I know I missed a state (Missouri). But I don't consider Missouri boring at all. It's quite interesting. And by "interesting" I mean hilly and not prone to putting me to sleep--- sorry, Nebraska and Illinois, try planting a few more trees or building the worlds biggest rocking chair or something since you can't just make mountains.

Nebraska does, however, have the world’s longest wooden bridge over an interstate, so I suppose they are giving a good effort. I didn’t stop, because I searched beforehand and they charge $12 or so. I was only wanting a quick stop, and I wasn’t going to pay $12 on a “quick stop.”

I've driven across Illinois and Missouri countless times, as far west as Kansas City. Beyond that was foreign territory as far as westward driving, unless you count Texas. I consider Texas southern. Texas considers Texas its own country. To each their own.

The funny thing is, you gain a few thousand feet in elevation crossing Nebraska, but you never actually feel like you're going uphill. I kind of pictured a switch-back road going up a mountain in my mind. The exact opposite is true. The wind sure is hell, though. My light, non-aerodynamic car had a hard time of it, even with every square inch packed full of stuff (including the microwave). Let’s just take a brief intermission to talk about packing for this trip, shall we?

You really learn what is important to you when you have to fit your entire life into a tiny Corolla. I used vacuum bags to reduce the space my clothing, bedding, and fabrics took up by I would say at least 2/3. Best investment ever ($1 per bag at Dollar Tree). So I put all of my must-haves in the car, with the help of an awesome friend who took her day to help me pack. If she ever decides to go into the moving business, I will be her best reference. And I’m considering flying her out to help me when all of this has to go back in my car. When I’d fit all of my basic survival things in the car, like underwear, clothes, blankets, shoes, etc., I still had space. It then became a game of how much we could fit in the car. I don’t think there was a cubic inch of space left in the trunk when we were finished. Everything was positioned for maximum efficiency. By now I was getting excited. “What else can I possibly fit in here?” I thought to myself. We were exceeding my expectations by a landslide. Everything we fit was something less to buy when I arrived at my destination. So we packed cleaning supplies. Then my memory foam mattress. A hamper with more “frivolous” clothes in it. Lotions, soaps, shampoos, and my detergent-making supplies (I make my own detergent for less than a $1 for a couple gallons--- you should try it). Closet storage. Then, the ultimate challenge: the microwave. Because I’m sitting here thinking, “what if my future apartment doesn’t have a microwave? That’s really expensive to replace. I’d rather not take my chances because I can’t cook…” So we packed the microwave. Then we put things in the microwave because why not? No reason to have empty space.  Side note: don’t ever pack liquid containers in the microwave. In fact, just leave your liquids home Period. They expand at high altitude and explode. At least, that’s the only reason I can come up with. Because my microwave was covered in lotion and the rest of my bottles look ready to burst when I arrived. They wouldn't sit up straight in the shower for a few days. The altitude change is the only variable I could find that changed, besides temperature, that would have affected all the bottles, and temperature would have caused them to contract, not expand, because it was colder. Okay, enough science for one post. Next we packed the vacuum cleaner. Hepa filter because what if I’m allergic to cactus or whatever they have in Wyoming? Posters for decoration. Electronics. I kept trying to say, there’s still room in the back window, but my helper wouldn’t have my line of sight for driving be impaired for the next 1042 miles. Pillows, blankets, laundry basket. Movies, camera tripod, pots, pans, all of my silverware and the holder, cookware, plastic food storage things, plate, bowl (we only packed one of each because we all know I don’t make friends quickly or easily enough to need more than that). Oh, and the folding camp chair. The list goes on. All in a Corolla. I was impressed. I have to give most of the credit to Kendra for this. It was truly amazing. We even fixed my lighter plug-in charger that hasn’t worked in forever. Not sure what we did, but it works now! I can now use my Garmin while charging my phone. This is the first time I’ve been able to do this in about 5 years, so I was pretty excited.

Anyway, back to my story…

When I left Indiana, it was so humid it felt like I was taking a hot bath when I walked outside, and it was in the high 80’s, I believe. Well, I needn’t have feared heat stroke, because it got colder as I crossed the plains, making the wind absolutely biting. I also had to deal with weird gasoline types in every state (thanks, dad, for dealing with dumb phone calls about what is considered "safe" gas for my car). I mean, who needs two types of 87 unleaded gases anyway? Nebraska. That's who. Why can’t we all just get along and agree on what gas to use?

So I chugged along, stopping briefly at a Lewis and Clark museum and briefly considered hijacking a historical boat for the rest of the journey. Again, I could have went into the exhibit, but I wasn’t going to pay for a quick stop, so I made do with the old boat halfway buried in their yard.

I eventually stopped for the night in a halfway decent hotel, after napping at a remote but popular McDonalds, so I could strike out early the next day. I would recommend napping somewhere slightly less popular. Waking up to doors slamming and people looking over at you like you're homeless is more than a little creepy. However, I guess that’s better than waking up to a guy with a chainsaw staring at you for a whole other set of reasons. The odds of that happening would have went up exponentially had I chosen a truck stop for my nap. On second thought, stick with the crowded McDonalds… I left early from the hotel and made a few stops as the terrain got more interesting.

My first stop was Lake McConaughy. I saw a sign on the interstate and couldn't resist. It also turned out to be a shortcut to where I was heading so it worked out well. It claims to be the largest reservoir in America. The wind was vicious, making white-capped waves on the lake. Several people stopped their cars to look, but I was the only one dumb enough to get out and take pictures. I definitely saw an older couple staring at me and shaking their heads. I like pictures and my butt was numb from sitting so long. Don’t judge me. It was here that I saw my first tumbleweed. However, when I drove down from a hill, I was suddenly a couple hundred feet in the air, driving across a dam. Somehow the tumbleweeds must have rolled up the dam and gotten stuck. This was no place for pictures. I did, however, laugh and smile like a little kid because I think tumbleweeds are the funniest things ever for some reason. I was simultaneously cringing in terror from being up so high with only two thin metal wires in between me and a fall to the death, laughing like a little kid, and trying to admire the view of the lake and river. It was a very confusing mix of emotions.

My next stop was at a very rural place called Chimney Rock in Nebraska. It was $3 or so for the movie and exhibits, but I can’t find it in myself to pay even small amounts when I’m just stretching my legs, so I meandered around their gift shop, settling on a few postcards to add to my extensive collection, and took a few pictures outside. The gentleman behind the counter looked and dressed like the Amish from back in Indiana, but it would have been rude to ask. I still need to research if there are Amish communities around here, just out of curiosity, or if that guy just dresses, shaves, and talks like that. I don’t know, maybe it’s just the style. This was also my first snake sign spotting. I knew there were rattlers out here before I came, but I wasn’t prepared for the signage. Or the snow. That goes to show just how much colder it got as I drove west. But I would like to think that snow = rattlers hiding, so I appreciated it that day.

This is Chimney Rock. It kind of looks like an upside down oil funnel to me, but “Upside Down Oil Funnel Rock” is infinitely less catchy than “Chimney Rock.” There’s a reason I don’t name things. Well, two reasons, actually. I’m not important enough (yet), and I’m too literal. I calls it like I sees it.

Whew! That was a novella! But I like to add my thoughts into everything I write because that’s kind of the point of a blog. Otherwise, I could just provide you with a list of all the places I stopped and let you Google them. Is Google a verb? If it wasn't before then it is now. For the next entry, I’ll be talking about Guernsey State Park.