Mt. Rushmore July 25-29, 2000 2108 miles
|------|
|S Dak.\
|____ |
| ~~\
`, Nebr.\
|~~~~~~~|
| Kansas|
|-------',
~~~|Okla.|
|_ |
`~~~
DAY 1 - 589 miles
With so many travelogues told, how can I capture your attention. I can promise adventure, riches, sex and daring deeds. But alas, only adventure will be told today. A tale of a dad and his daughter, a five day road trip for bonding and memorable times. It was memorable immediately as Daddy had Barbara awaken at 5 a.m. from a comfortable bed in our rental house in Oklahoma City. I estimated an 8 hour ride before the first museum, and they close at 5 p.m.
Crossing town to I-35 in the dark wasn't a problem. Lightning was flashing across the sky, but no rain. More like fireworks, though harkening back to the previous week's storms in central OK where we lost power for two days along with 110,000 other sweltering souls that hot weekend. OG&E, the power company, reported this as the third worse outage in history, requiring help from neighboring cities and states. Right up there with the 1999 tornado which leveled Moore, OK.
Dry conditions changed to wet, and the rains came down as we moved towards Kansas. But as dawn approached, the atmospheric dynamics altered and evaporated the T-storms. It is 110 miles from our house to the Kansas border, and conditions changed again, with worm drowning rain (hey, those worms have to breathe, and if rain fills their little tunnels, they drown!) My headlights stayed on til Salina, KS which was about 9 a.m. During that time we went through Wichita, exited at K-96, then west 12 miles to I-135. I had gone almost as far north when I traveled to Maxwell last fall. Now after 4 hours and 250 miles I was entering new territory.
NOTE: Each link opens a second browser, the travelogue will still be open in the original, or first, window.
I took a small detour off I-135 to visit Minneapolis (Kansas). I had read they had an attraction called Rock City with unusual geologic formations, but I was too cheap to spend the $2, and figured I'd see better at Toadstool. The gas station impressed Barbara, as it had a little food counter, and locals sat around socializing. As a result, the restroom was particularly clean and nice (the feature she commented on). As a private joke, I said hi to all the Melmets in town.
North of Salina, the interstate turns into Hwy 81 which I took to the KS/NEB border. The sun came out and we were to have good weather the rest of the trip. Hwy 81 leads to York at I-80 where I turned west to Aurora. Triple A gave a star to the Plainsman Museum there, but I didn't think I'd have enough time for both Aurora and Grand Island, so I drove on, getting into town after noon and 445 miles.
Grand Island is a city of 40K and over 1000 motel rooms listed by AAA. The starred attraction is the Stuhr Museum, much bigger than Aurora's Plainsman, and requiring several hours of our time. Located at Hwy's 34 and 281, it has indoor exhibits and outdoor gardens, trains, and whole cities, peopled by volunteers, to recreate the 1800's in Nebraska. Of course most "cities" in the pioneer days of Nebraska were quite small. Pioneer days and prairie would be a theme for this trip.
The city got its name from the large island in the Platte River. In the 1850s, three Iowa businessmen sent 36 poor souls to create a town there, speculating the railroad would go through. The venture went bankrupt but the 3 dozen stayed. By 1866 the Union Pacific railroad did come through. In fact, so did everyone crossing the country via the Mormon Pioneer Trail, the Nebraska City Cutoff Trail, the Oregon Trail, the Ox Bow Trail, and the Pony Express Trail. My own plans were to sleep over in this relative cosmopolis, but we were finished the museum before 5 and didn't feel like turning in for the evening. So we headed west on I-80 to North Platte, nearly as large, and home to Buffalo Bill Cody. We stayed in an average motel, a few blocks from the railroad tracks. (We were to find that it was hard NOT to be a few blocks from the railroad tracks during this trip.)
This 2 hour improvisation looked like it might affect our trip. On the one hand, I had planned to leave Grand Island via Scenic Route 2 and now could not. However, it did shave an hour off our drive to Alliance the next day. As it would turn out, these would all fall into place. But my greatest concern in planning the trip was the relative lack of rooms around our next stop - Chadron. Using AAA as a guide (which would cover all the "nice" rooms, leaving another 30% of small mom-and-pop establishments available, but not necessarily desirable), it broke down as: Chadron, pop. 6K - 3 motels, 112 rooms; Alliance, pop. 10K - 4 motels, 184 rooms; Crawford, pop. 1K - no rooms; Hot Springs, pop. 4K - 3 motels, 123 rooms. Although I wanted to call ahead, it would lock me in, and I preferred to stay flexible. I brought 2 sleeping bags and pillows in the Durango just in case.
I knew better, but on the first night, after fast foods all day, I told Barbara we would try out Branding Iron BBQ for dinner. She wisely lost her appetite although the placed smelled great. The special of chopped BBQ sandwich was diminished by their not microwaving the refrigerated meat enough to even get it warm. But the beans were good, and the atmosphere excellent. Each table had a bucket of salted peanuts, and instructions to throw the shells on the floor. Hours of customers produced the expected results. Barbara got a Husker root beer and drank out of the souvenir bottle while tossing peanuts.
DAY 2 - 371 miles
Today was luxurious, waking at 5:30 CST (Barbara at 6) and then breakfast at Perkins. Barbara rated this breakfast as one of the top three things for the entire trip. We were on Hwy 83 north out of North Platte by 7 and would connect up with Scenic Route 2 (SR2) at Thedford. Rolling plains and farms were like a rough sea, up and down and endless to the horizon. Trees, cows, power lines and people all imported to this naturally empty scape. surprisingly thick fog covered the sandhills. I used my SUV's foglamps, and no sense pulling over by the sign announcing a scenic overlook. Lucky enough to see the sign. We were away from civilization as I knew it. All of central Nebraska is Sandhills, literally hills of sand with a thin veneer of prairie grasses growing on top. Unable to support crops, but home to a million sandhill cranes during migration.
The fog cleared by Thedford and was spotty for awhile as we head hundreds of miles west to Alliance. SR2 is a two-lane road, and sections were being re-surfaced or cleared of sand. The road takes a beating from the changes in weather, but especially as it sits on a soft sand foundation. In addition to the cracks and breaks, the "shoulder" is only sand and overruns the road at times, requiring armies of heavy equipment to clear and haul the sand away. Traffic, what little there was, had to wait as these trunks crossed the road. At one point we had to follow a pilot car. At first this seemed silly, where else could we go and get lost. But at the end of the road I saw why. Two huge construction trucks were flaming the old asphalt road with propane, followed by another vehicle spreading hot asphalt, then a steam roller. The pilot car drove by the trucks, but I went partly off the road to give the flames a wide berth.
The busiest rail line in the country runs along SR2. Every 5 minutes a long train pulling a hundred coal cars would be pulling east, and every other 5 minutes, a Burlington National, Santa Fe (BNSF) would be returning with empty cars. Alliance is one such switching hub for the BNSF. There we jumped over to Hwy 385 to travel 58 empty miles to Chadron. Although the speed limit is posted 65 mph, I thought it conservative to do 72, along with the handful of cars on the road. At the top of a hill half a mile away I could see two Nebraska State troopers, and slowed well before they could aim a radar gun at me. Nevertheless, Trooper Petersen, Badge 173 signaled for me to pull over as I heard his walkie-talkie giving him instructions from the scout plane somewhere over head (and unseen). Yeap, right there at mile marker 146 they were having a good old time pulling everything over. Politely, I gave the Trooper my Texas license and title, and he issued me a polite warning for speeding. And I thought New Mexico police were the worse. I politely thanked the Trooper for my warning and left the trap with only a 10 minute delay.
We traveled the 240 miles from North Platte to Chadron in what seemed impossibly quick time, 3 hours. Wait, we went into Mountain time, a bonus which would need be repaid later. For now however, we visited the Museum of the Fur Trade. The inside held displays of everything relevant to fur trading, from money to guns to maps to Indian artifacts. The outside included a re-built trading post run from 1837-76 by James Bordeaux for the American Fur Company. It must have been brutal for him and his native wife as the post only operated in the winter when trapping was at its peak. Buffalo and deer skins where most popular, but buffalo tongues were routinely shipped east as a delicacy. Guns and ammo was traded to the Indians and used against neighboring Fort Laramie, the main reason the Army closed the post.
After lunch we took Hwy 20 to Crawford which gave access to Oglala National Grassland. The use of the word access should really be modified. The road was dust and gravel, and went on for tens of miles. I left a cloud behind me and had to repeatedly use my rear wiper blades to clear the dust off the back window. That dust stayed on the Durango until I soaped it off 4 days later in OKC. It was even inside the cover of my gas cap, It was plenty hot as well, and contrary to the Durango chat rooms, my air conditioning was adequate for the job. Did I say bumpy? Can you say waterboard road? The suspension on the Durango was good.
Since Barbara is considering an archaeology career, we first went to the Hudson-Meng Bison Bonebed. Forget sweaty, dusty, grueling work as a paleontologist, this football field sized site is covered by a humidity controlled building to help preserve the 10,000 year old massed extinction of an enormous number of bison. Visit it over the Internet, as getting there is tough, we being the only ones there other than the Park rangers.
Continuing along the same fine roadways within the Park, we bumped along to Toadstool Geologic Park. Here in the most northwest corner of Nebraska is........the moon. Hot, dry, dusty, sunny and barren. We shared the area with a dozen enthusiasts. Clay soils and volcanic ash are easily eroded. Some sandstone within the formation is more resistant. Thus, sandstone slabs of rock sit on narrow clay pedestals, which resemble toadstools (to the imaginative). The Park service has driven nine markers into the ground to serve as guides for a one mile loop trail. Their guidebook states that "the first quarter mile is universally accessible. Beyond that, the trail winds along..." suggesting it may be too hard for senior citizens. Hell, it was too hard for us.
We followed the first 4 markers ok, but the arrow pointing to the next one, pointed at nothing we could see. We followed the direction but came upon a blind alley against a cliff. We backtracked and decided to follow the gully of a dry river bed. After a while we decided this would take us to South Dakota, not the promised "loop" to the parking lot. Backtracking again, we asked a man and his son. Natives of the area, they love to come and walk the gully. "Marker 5, don't know, never actually took the marked trail."
We spotted someone on top of the cliff, and found marker 5 over the hill. From there it was a simple matter to continue along the trail, with steep crumbly drop-offs, small jumps over open faults, and windy downhill descents. No guard rails, no nothing. We made good use of our water bottles, hats and sunglasses. I hope the pictures come out as well.
The roads in the Park cross back and forth between the coal train tracks. We passed, and then had to cross where a derailment occurred. A dozen empty coal cars where bent, tumbled and askewed down the hill from the tracks. Dozens of real, real big equipment were moving them, lifting and replacing track, etc. Even in the immense open landscape, it was impressive. No pilot car or even a flag man about. I had to negotiate crossing the tracks myself between machines moving new rails.
Trusting the sign on the other side of the tracks, it indicated that I could continue north on the dusty gravel road to reconnect with SR2 rather than re-trace the 20 miles I had come from the south to SR2. This would allow me to head directly to Hot Springs and hopefully lodging for the night. It was correct and I was buoyed with the shortcut. However, this isn't road construction season for no reason. And construction is the operative word. We literally ran out of road, and were detoured (we meaning me and a gravel truck) through some rancher's access road. It went on and on. Always top off the gas tank. Finally we re-connected with what will some day be SR2, but for now was like the roads in the Park. 40 mph was good enough until I got behind a water truck. Who cares if it was dusty out here, but the truck was releasing it's water and wetting both lanes at once. I figured to stay behind as I couldn't see anything in front of the water truck. However, the gravel truck is bigger and taller, and decided to pass. I re-figured that the left lane must be clear of oncoming traffic since why else would the gravel truck try to pass, plus if not, this truck would wipe out almost any other vehicle. So I followed him. Not bad until I closed on both trucks. The gravel was pelting the Durango, and the water was like being in the Red Sea when Moses closed it on the Egyptians. I was blind and scared, but kept the peddle to the metal and the wheel straight. Those seconds of eternity past and I came out clear. Yet another 500 yards the road construction ended, the water truck stopped watering and turned around. But I was on my way to Hot Springs. Surprisingly the dust still clung to all but a few windows.
Hot Springs, South Dakota was populated because, you guessed it, its hot mineral springs, and even now is becoming a site for retirees. Shielded from the otherwise bitter winters, it is a very pleasant, upscale town. Encircled by Hwy 18 and Hwy 385, this town of 4,000 has a VA Medical Center, a river walk and falls, and beautiful historic sandstone buildings. I found a new Best Western motel that had eschewed AAA membership and was quite nice. All the motels fill up by late evening this time of year as tourism is thick, and towns within a hundred miles of Mt. Rushmore and the Badlands are busy. Come the first week in August, the motorcyclists flock to nearby Sturgis for their annual rally. They are expecting double of last years 250,000. This website has the babe pictures you'd expect to see.
Barbara and I went to The Mammoth Site before dinner. Again keeping with paleontology, this made her top 3 picks of the trip. And again, a mammoth public relations with a huge air conditioned 23,000 sq ft building housing the dig, museum and gift shop. Dozens of animal species were trapped by a sink hole 26,000 years ago but the 50 woolly mammoths unearthed so far are the biggest draw.
After a chinese buffet dinner I walked about town, took some shots of the river and falls, and found myself on the porch of the old Evans Hotel. I spent a pleasant hour mostly listening to Jimmie tell me some of his life as a retireed pharmacist from Houston, who's very wealthy brother has of late re-entered his life and is treating him well (like a 7 week trip to Europe). I heard about his 5 years in Hot Springs, the rally, local politics and businesses. A slow night to a lazy town where the biggest crowd was at the local VFW meeting. Jimmie told me to say "hi" to the Best Western manager/owner - Patty, and the Chef at Big T's where I was to have breakfast tomorrow. I did and got big smiles and compliments about him.
DAY 3 - 180 miles
Breakfast, always important even if at McDonald's, was at an outside cafe next to the motel. All the pancakes you can eat for $1.99. I got a side of buffalo patty sausage - good. But over heard the owner complaining about the disreputable practices of the buffalo meat distributor. Price and availability were going to force the owner to drop buffalo from the menu. Meanwhile his assistant was firing up the smokers for BBQ meats for the evening crowds, including a bus which had called ahead to reserve dinners for its tour.
My original plans had allowed for a visit to the Crazy Horse Sculpture on Hwy 16/385. But at 7 or 8 dollars a pop, I figured I would wait til they actually completed the sculpture. So after traveling north on Hwy 385 a while, I turned onto Rte 87 and came to the south entrance of Custer State Park. $8 got us both in and on the Wildlife Loop Rd. I really enjoyed the 4 hours we were in the Park, especially so as we got there very early in the morning and had the Park nearly to ourselves. We saw plenty of wildlife. Herds of bison in the road, herds of prairie dogs in the road, herds of donkeys in the road.
Barbara began to learn how to use a 35 mm SLR camera by capturing shots of the prairie dogs. They stayed mostly by their burrows but did cross the road. Driving through curves and hills, you could abruptly come across a hundred bison standing in the road or crossing, oblivious to cars. We rolled up our windows as they were thick with flies and ticks. I don't mean figuratively. The ticks were buffalo sized, arrayed across their foreheads and rumps in rows, and engorged. Even in Montana and Wyoming I'd not been that close to so many bison. And we came upon herd after herd as we traveled the Park. The wild donkeys were a different matter. Clean and social, one held up traffic as he stuck his head in the window of a car to be petted. After the car moved on, the same donkey came to us and did the same thing. We got out, and with the help of some Chex cereal arrayed four in a row for a group photo along the road.
We got out of the Durango at several visitor centers and after crossing Hwy 16A, continued our drive along Needles Highway Scenic Drive. Dramatic country, spires of granite sticking out of the ground, requiring barely passable tunnels through them at several points. We disembarked at a trails head. We didn't read carefully enough, and started hiking to what promised to be a great overlook at Harney's Peak. However, after a third of a mile we questioned returning hikers to find out it was 2.5 miles each way to the country's highest point east of the Rockies. We were without water bottles, rugged boots, and the 1-2 hours the strenuous climb would take. We retreated.
From the top of Needles Hwy, we headed west on Rte 244. The road was crowded with cars across the country heading to Mount Rushmore. I had been there 40 years ago, and remembered eating a buffalo burger which seemed like the sole of my shoe. The visitor center complex was meager, representing mostly original construction from its 1941 opening. Now, a great highway leads into the entrance where Rangers direct you to new multi-storied concrete parking decks. The Park is free, but a computerized bar-coded receipt, complete with your car's license plate number is generated for a $8 parking fee (unlimited access for a year). Probably 10-15 thousand visitors a day come here, I was transaction 30,052,058.
Your first view of the Park is actually the Avenue of the Flags, a massive concrete walkway bordered by tall columns of the same, with 4 state flags apiece. We glanced at the actual sculpture, then went into the restaurant for lunch. I got a buffalo burger. Tasted fine this time.
A long walk to the Lincoln Borglum museum along the Avenue and amphitheater, exhibits, 13 minute movie, and then the wood and plastic trail around the monument. A few shots looking up the noses of our four great Presidents, then back to the gift shop and ice cream bar. Despite the overt commercialism, Barbara rated Mt Rushmore in her top three attractions of the trip. I did get gifts for everyone including a coffee mug for my collection. Anyone can find Mt Rushmore on the web, but here is their gift shop. Of the 2 1/2 hours we spent, maybe half-hour was actually on the trail looking at the granite faces.
As planned, there was still daylight to burn, and a 45 mile trek through Rte 244 to Keystone, north on Hwy 16, then Hwy 385 to Lead, SD (pronounced leed, like leading to a vein of gold). There we got in right away to the surface tour of the oldest continuously run gold mine [in the world] at the top of the 7,000 ft Sugar Loaf Mountain range. The open pit isn't mined anymore, but tunnels over 8,000 feet deep continue to produce an ounce of gold for each 4 tons of rock. We saw the plant operations, shafts, water purification, repair shops, etc. Required us to wear hard hats and go between buildings in a bus. We got core samples to keep, but no gold. Their website is pretty crappy, but if you want to see a blurb on their history.
I had planned to drive through Sturgis, which I had mentioned was the site of next weeks motorcycle rally, but road construction forced me to leave Rte 14A in Deadwood and go north on Hwy 85 to Interstate 90. Although longer, it probably was faster, and we got into Rapid City by 6 p.m. A city of 55K with over 3000 motel rooms caused me little concern. Until I saw the prices, ouch. As the largest hub city for all the tourist attractions in the Black Hills, they could afford to charge a pretty penny and still fill up. I bargain shopped and went from too much to not bad to finally Fair Value Inn at $70. Dinner at the Golden Corral and a walk through Rushmore Mall, where a Target's is integral to the Mall, and they had a Herberger's dept store.
DAY 4 - 339 miles
It sounds silly, but the sun comes up really early in South Dakota. I set my alarm for 5:30 and dawn was already up. Breakfast at McDonald's and then out Rte 44. At any time a lonely road, but at dawn, empty and 77 miles to Cedar Pass, entry to the Badlands. This was a place to let Barbara practice behind the wheel. She had done 5 minutes on Day 1 along Hwy 81 to the KS/NE border, 5 minutes on Day 2 on the road from Bison bonebed, and now 10 minutes. Day 5 out of Hazard, south on Rte 10 would get her a last 15.
Driving along the Buffalo Gap National Grasslands is tantalizing. Prairie is interrupted by bits and pieces of the Badlands. Buttes tower hundreds of feet, horizontal bands of earth, rock, ash and fossils create the various colored strata seen in these geologic wonders. No drinkable water is within the quarter million acre Park except at the visitor stations. We entered through the eastern most gateway and saw a video on the Badlands at Ben Reifel visitor center. As the video began to discuss the animals and birds, two starlings flew into the outdoor auditorium. One took up a nest in the corner, the other chirped and whistled nearby. If it had been DisneyWorld I would have thought they were animatronics.
It had rained the night before, making some of the more rigorous trails impassable. The Badlands are fragile and weathered, when dry they crumple, when wet they are slippery mud. I picked the 1.5 mile Notch trail which included a climb up a vertical ladder hammered into the cliff. It had dried out enough to be challenging but not impassable. The next trail I picked, Door, was described as a walk through geologic history. "The first hundred yards are paved and accessible to an athletic wheelchair user; however, the path will soon become more rugged... Those venturing into the formations occasionally lose their bearings and become lost." Where had I heard that before! We did the first half, took pictures and came back. We spent 2 hours on trails and exhibits.
It was time to get in the Durango and drive along the Loop road and stop at the overlooks. Sunny and clear, visibility was excellent and the sights did not disappoint. At the Fossil Exhibit Trail we heard about the Pig Dig and set our sights for this out of the way (could things be more out of the way?) paleontological niche by the Conata picnic area. Remains of pig like creatures, 33 million years old, were being excavated. Originally found by visitors, the experts expected they would dig up the fossil and be finished in a few months. Seven years later it is proving to be a world-class find.
Although outside and in primitive surroundings, it did have a sheetmetal roof over it. Three college students were digging, and a fourth was gluing a bone together. A Park ranger was there to explain things, but we also talked directly with a young woman working on the bone. She explained all the courses she was taking and how good the dig experience was, better than the one month a year available at Mammoth site. Her friend, who had gotten his degree, was now in charge of the new exhibits at the Univ. of Oklahoma, Norman Campus's Natural History Museum (which we had visited on its opening day last month). She hoped to have his job in 5 years.
We left the Park and went north on 240 to Wall. Ted Hustead bought the only drug store in the town of Wall in 1931. The 326 people there were in a bad way from the depression and drought. He advertised free ice water to the tourist traveling Rte 16A. Like the "South of the Border" signs going to Florida, Wall Drug became known across the country and today covers a city block with everything but drugs. Other stores have surrounded their complex and traffic is heavier in this city than anywhere else this trip. The stores are crowded, elbow to elbow, and people were spending money.
We had lunch. I kept to my favorites, a buffalo dog, nickel cup of coffee, free water. Barbara was a bit more conservative, and later got a great mint chocolate malted. We shopped for gifts, toured the backyard area with animated displays, animal statues 6 feet tall and other nonsense. Spent 2 hours there, and could have stayed longer. A perfect match to the natural time spent in the Badlands. A successful venture now run by the Hustead family as Ted died January 1999.
At this point, late in the afternoon, I had planned to travel through South Dakota and bed down in Kearney, Nebraska (only 400 miles away). This now seemed overly ambitious as I headed east on I-90 to Murdo. That is where I lost an hour traveling back into Central time. I turned south on Hwy 83 and went through White River and Mission, then crossed the NE border and at 6 p.m., stopped at the Comfort Inn in Valentine to have them call ahead for a room in North Platte. Good plan as it's a big city with lots of rooms. Bad timing as the Quilting Bee convention was in and no room at the Inn. I don't mean just no rooms at the North Platte Comfort Inn, or its sister motel, Quality Inn. I mean no rooms in North Platte, no rooms in Lexington further east on I-80, no rooms in Kearney, no rooms in Hastings yet another hour east. We arranged for a nice room at Thedford, only an hour south on Hwy 83, but 3 hours from our next museum.
The silver lining? Well, we didn't need to sleep in the sleeping bags I brought along just in case. And now I could finish going down SR2 just where I had left off on the trip up. So what's Thedford like? A town of 300 along the railroad tracks with its own Art Gallery. The Roadway Inn was new and clean, and next door was a new restaurant which kept busy on this Friday night. The coal cars went by frequently, and by late evening the motel was filled. I told the clerk we would have to miss the free continental breakfast as we planned to leave by 5 a.m. Surprisingly, they had someone at the front desk 24 hrs and brought out the coffee, donuts, bagels, etc for us at 5 a.m.
DAY 5 - 629 miles
This was going to be a loooong day, starting hundreds of miles behind schedule and getting home to OKC sometime that night. This time of morning SR2 is deserted and dark. There was a thin crescent moon to my left, easily seen above the rolling sandhills and low lying fog. A rose tint filled the mist in the pre-dawn, lighting the hills and highway yet keeping the sky nearly black to frame the white sliver of moon. I pulled over and set up the camera on a tripod for a long exposure. No cars or even birds yet, but some distance cows could be heard, possibly amplified by the moisture in the air. I wanted Barbara to experience the country outside and get practice with the tripod, but the early hour prevailed and she stayed inside. I lingered outside as this was a scene which might not be captured by the film, and I wanted my physical memories to record it as long as possible. Finally I repacked the equipment in our sports utility vehicle and started back up, knowing other scenes would demand other visits along our way.
My Durango has a 5.9 liter, V8, gas-guzzling engine which gets 14 mpg in city and 16 on the road. Tuned to a lower speed than vehicles not all-wheel drive and ready to pull a ton, highway speeds over 65 actually increase gas consumption. But on SR2, doing 60, I got my best mileage at 17.2 mpg. At North Platte we got on the Interstate and made good time to Kearney, then going a bit beyond to Rte 10 and Minden. Along the trip we had heard that the Harold Warp Pioneer Village was the best of the pioneer museums in Nebraska, maybe the country. Harold started collecting everything to show his children what life was like then (1800's) and now (mid-1900's). With 2 dozen buildings on 20 acres and 50,000 items it was impossible to not spend 2 hours. Every camera, telephone, ballpoint pen, button, china, bicycles, cars, planes, a sod house, church, barn, blacksmith shop, pony express station. Quite an experience, and we had been having experiences all trip.
By 11 a.m. we were hungry for lunch and been up 6 1/2 hours. We drove over to Hastings via Hwy 6 and got greased up at Long John Silvers. Now Hastings is a small town of 23K, so one wouldn't expect it to support a museum of any size or repute. Omaha has a third of a million, but is 160 miles away. However, I put the museum as our last stop because the town is where Kool-Aid was invented. Admission included a 40 minute planetarium show which Barbara enjoyed as it kept with the paleontolgy theme of an asteroid hitting Earth and wiping out the dinosaurs. We skipped the IMAX, but spent 2 1/2 hours all toll going through the dioramas of birds, animals, fossils, plus rocks and assorted collections. There was the original Kool-Aid man, and Kool-Aid packets from around the world. The story of success and expansion to Chicago. The Kool Aid exhibits were spread around different places in the museum, and through I had hoped for more, it was still probably the only place to see it. After all the drink was designated the official Soft Drink of Nebraska. Edwin Perkins, inventor, sold the company to General Foods in 1964, and they merged with Kraft in 1989. So Kraft Foods now has the Official Kool-Aid web page.
Well, it's 3 p.m. and it's sad but we need to get home. But I refuse to be rushed, or bored driving along the Interstate, so I take Hwy 281 out of Hastings to the NE/KS border. Ten miles into Kansas we see a road sign pointing out we are 1 mile away from the geographic center of the 48 states. If you were to cut out a cardboard map of the US, you could balance it on the tip of a pencil point right here in Kansas. I'm so excited I follow 281 west to Smith Center, KS rather than go due south on 181. No problem as we come across the perfect field of sunflowers. I pull over and let Barbara shoot pictures. The angle of the sun is great, hitting the yellow heads which all face west. She frames another view to include a large rolled brown bale of hay, sitting on green grass by the black road. The blue sky and white clouds create a kaleidoscope of colors for us to work with. We seem to have Kansas all to our selves.
Exploring our world is the purpose of the trip, and the National Parks draw us and others. But there is rarely a crowd at any of them early in the morning and this gives us early birds an extra advantage. I don't know why more people don't start early, but I guess you all have a relative who likes to sleep late and dawdle. Fine by me and Barbara who don't want to burn daylight.
We cross I-70 at Russell and continue down Hwy 281 through Great Bend and Pratt. By Medicine Lodge I try to call Sandy, but I don't have enough minutes on my phone card to negotiate the public phone. Oh well, nearly 8 p.m., so we push on to Kiowa via Rte 2 following a big semi. Rte 8/11 gets us to Cherokee and it's getting dark. These little roads might disappear and I hope to get through Nash and connect then east to Hwy 81. By that point it's easy going as Hwy 81 is dual-lane except when going through Enid, Kingfisher and Okarche. Finally Hwy 3 (NorthWest Hwy) directs us into OKC and home by midnight.
I'm still hoping to drive the Alaskan Highway, only a 8,000 mile trip.
This 2K, and the Montana 4K should be enough practice for it. :-) rmd
Home Page
Travel Page