After many fits and starts, the Slow Lane is headed back west. While we have been west, then east, then west, then east, we are now really headed west for the rest of the journey. To kick off the final phase (maybe) of the journey, we loaded up Sasquatch, our V8 Prairie Schooner and headed out across the Great Plains. While we have previously crisscrossed both North Dakota and South Dakota, we had not made the journey across Nebraska, the gateway to the west, the manifest destiny superhighway.
In my past as a student at the University of Colorado, I had crossed Nebraska more times than I care to count. In the early days, it was at least twice a year, as I stormed across the state in the middle of the night, headed home to Minnesota for Christmas, Spring Break, Summer Vacation, or other school season hiatuses. One year, in a fit of lunacy, I actually drove to Minnesota for the weekend, a feat I do not long to repeat.
In fact, I can still tell you roughly where I am in Nebraska, just by looking at the scenery along I-80. This is surprising to me, given the relative lack of scenery by mountain living standards, but goes to show that the subtle geography of place still exists in our ever developing world. I always remember the feedlot west of North Platte, the hill country between Omaha and Lincoln, and the flat prairies between Grand Island and Kearny that roll past as the lush green of the midwest slowly morphs into the faded brown of the late summer west. This time, I only realized post haste that the Maranantha sign and white cross that used to adorn the roadside in central Nebraska is no longer there. Or maybe it is and I just didn’t notice as the road blur lulled me into near oblivion.
When I was younger, Nebraska was to be crossed as quickly as possible. Especially once I started long distance dating my then future wife, who still resided in Minnesota ( a fact I couldn’t fully comprehend at the time). Today, with a child, a dog, and slower pace, we actually take a bit of time across Nebraska. And while it isn’t a world tourist destination by most people’s accounts, there are some interesting sights to see, both kitschy and otherwise. You could opt for the world’s largest ball of stamps, the Kool Aid museum, or Carhenge (yes, a Stonehenge of cars) if you so choose, but you can also get a sense of what it was like for the pioneers who traversed Nebraska on the Oregon Trail, the Mormon Trail, the Pony Express route; American pioneers in search of wealth, opportunity, and religious freedom. For example, in Gothenburg, NE, you can see a sod house preserved from the 1800s and truly appreciate how hard frontier living was.
One way to experience a bit of Nebraska’s travel history is offered up in an unusual package. As you drive down I-80 near Kearny, you will see a bizarre, giant highway overpass called the Great Platte River Road Archway Monument. For those if you who have traveled across Illinois (God help you), the Archway Monument looks like one of those crazy highway rest stops built over the interstate, but it’s a museum, not a Starbucks, McDonald’s, and Cinnabun all rolled into one blood pressure and cholesterol increasing gas station.
As we have passed the Archway over the years we have always said: “we should stop at that place someday.” Well, as one of Maggie’s favorite books so eloquently reminds us, “someday is not a day of the week.” So, in a nod to the spirit of the Slow Lane, we gave this particular someday a permanent place on our calendar and stopped. It was well worth it. Through a series of exhibits, video clips, and an audio tour, this little museum takes you on a guided journey of the history of travel across Nebraska, starting with the pioneers and leading right up to the construction of the Interstate Highway System. The museum - which sits very near the original site of Ft. Kearny, a way station for weary travelers of days gone by - is incredibly well done. Maggie particularly enjoyed the authentic replica of a 60s diner, which is perched high above the cars speeding by on the highway below.
Over my many years of taking driving trips around the country, I can’t tell you how many times I have driven by something, only to offer up the almost reflexive: “we should stop and check that place out sometime.” If you have experienced something similar, the best advice I can give you is this: STOP. These little diversions are almost always short, interesting, and memorable. They will stick with you. You will laugh about them later. You WILL remember them, no matter how silly. As we continue to learn time and again on this trip, the journey is the destination.
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