DAY 5–PEACHAM TO PORTLAND–LINCOLN, NE

Dearest Readers,

It’s 8am CST in Lincoln, Nebraska

 

Driving like a zombie in a white haze

Yesterday was my second day of hardcore zombie driving through the wonderful Great Plains. Out of the corners of my eyes I glimpsed big sky, relentless fields of corn and wheat, and dry, dust-filled air thrown up by pickups on side roads, and agricultural machinery in the fields. 

Windy and warm across Iowa-the ghost of big-brother the iPhone through the  side window

A wild whipping wind shook my poor toaster of a car while I hunched over the wheel. I know why I encountered great clusters of modern wind mills along yesterday's route. Wind must be the norm.

I glimpsed patches of the famous tall prairie grasses that covered the plains before white men arrived, but I could not find a safe place to take a picture. So here’s one from the web.

By the end of day I had eased my way around Des Moines’ beltway, crossed the Missouri to big, sprawling Omaha, and later pulled into Lincoln the capitol of Nebraska and home of the state university–Go Huskers!

 

Setting out in the morning toward Des Moines

Wild sculptures on a bridge as I approach Omaha on I-80 West

Des Moines is a capitol city too. It sparkled in the sunlight, clean, fresh and very contemporary-looking from my view on a little rise on I-80 descending and circling half the city. The State Capitol’s gold dome shone like the Emerald City. Road signs for gardens, museums and various art centers were impressive. The picture below is from the web. People drive fast here. I did not dare to snap a picture while fighting the wind, reading signs, and staying on course

 

Des Moines Iowa State Capitol building-a gem sparkling on the prairie 

You may be wondering how Etta James, my dog is doing…She’s a bit confused. This morning she sniffed around a window at the end of a hallway in our hotel, trying to get outside. 

Mostly she sleeps.

See you all tomorrow further west.

DAY 4–PEACHAM TO PORTLAND–DAVENPORT, IA

Dearest Readers,

Good Morning! It’s 8:00-ish CST at a Best Western “Plus” in Davenport Iowa.

Yesterday I zipped past South Bend and Chicago, observed miles of prairie corn from the corners of my eyes, 

and small farm towns with beautiful water towers, on another day of westward migration along a two-lane stretch of my life.

Mishawaka Indiana town water tower

I slid into Central Time, changed seamlessly from I-90 to I-80, crossed the Mississippi, and inched from 65 miles an hour to the new speed limit of 70 mph across the plains. The weather changed from morning frost in Indiana 

Frost on my Scion's roof in Howe, Indiana

to full blown sun the further I put some miles between me and the blustery, wet weather stirring over the Great Lakes.

I read billboards, road signs, and checked my speedometer ever couple of seconds. (I have no cruise

Des Moines sign near Chicago with my godlike hands and iPhone in the sky 

control). 

I mourned the animal carnage on the roads and shoulders. (What can we do about this senseless, ignored slaughter? Can we as a nation build more fences, or bridges or tunnels under the roads just for these other mammals to cross safely?) 

I failed at finding an NPR radio station, and kept my eyes on the road, occasionally peeking over at the curled up body of Etta James in the passenger seat, whose default mode for boredom is sleep. 

Dog and I stretched our legs in Joliet IL and discovered a pond with resting geese. Flying South?

I finished the day at my first restaurant, with a meaty cobb salad and a beautiful glass of house cabernet at the Prairie Grill in my hotel. Cheers to all!

DAY 3–PEACHAM TO PORTLAND–HOWE, IN

 

Day 3_Peacham to Howe Indiana

 Dearest Readers,

This is me at the wheel zipping through an industrial area of Cleveland this morning right near the wind-whipped, white-capped, frigid Lake Erie. I’m content driving on I-90. It’s like needle work, or knitting–but a bit dulling to the senses. I’m in a 65 mile per hour groove with frequent stops at service centers for food, and the potty. I’m getting better at snapping selfies and stop-action views out my side window, like this vision of a cornfield, 

but I'm not too efficient at lugging all my dog and person luggage in and out of motels each day.  Etta is my silent partner. Mostly she sleeps and jumps down to drink some water. Poor kid…Yesterday she was agitated and confused trying to sniff out the right door to our room in the existential corridor of the ancient Days Inn two days ago in Conneaut Ohio. 

I carried her to the right one and eased her frustration. It’s hard for a little girl who loves food and a routine.

A semi barreling down I-90 outside my motel window_6am this morning

This time I’m in a Holiday Inn Express plunked down in the vast emptiness of the prairie, but nestled alongside the river of I-90. I paid $264.00 for this regular motel room because they assured me at the desk that all of northern Indiana was sold out because it was a home game night between Notre Dame and USC. After calling all the other motels in the area that accepted dogs, I realized I was stuck. I think Notre Dame won, which is a comfort only to the fans who rumbled in late. I had all the fans (the motorized kind) in the room blasting as a sound screen.

Occasionally I run into people who interest me-like the group of retired-age black men from the Moorish Temple of America-National Mufti Corps. They wore buttons that urged against hating. Not sure what exactly, or where they were from, but I bet they are a volunteer community service fraternity like the Elks or the Shriners.We shared a brief wordless moment in a service center along the interstate. 

Here’s a gallery of road scenes yesterday  from my windshield on the world.

Heavy rains started the day, but quickly changed to sun, gale force winds and temperatures in the 30's (I think)

Sun on the green man as we plunge into the flattening prairie landscape

Nice irony of the Amish horse and buggy in front of a going-out-of-business K-Mart in Sturgis MI.  

Am I boring you all with weather and topography, agriculture and service centers? This is my world right now. It’s an adventure! See you tomorrow.

DAY 2–PEACHAM TO PORTLAND–CONNEAUT OHIO

Day 2-Conneaut OH

Dearest Readers,

Meet Richard, leaving the Microtel in Verona this morning. “Any luck, he asked me”? meaning did I win anything at the big casino in town? His Cadillac was losing battery life (I was there when he called road service from the hotel lobby.) He and his lady friend were lost last night trying to find their room on the second floor. (I was there again with Etta, going straight to my room.)  He was packing his car this morning as I was packing mine. The universe was telling me to take his picture. Yesterday I described gamblers as lean, hungry and perhaps too tanned. I was wrong… Richard seems to be a decent guy with a bumbling and slightly unlucky persona.

Today (yesterday at this posting) amounted to seeing the infinity of  I-90 from start to finish of the day. Herds of roiling clouds raced from the Great Lakes, in the direction of where I’d been. Sometimes they turned dark gray and menacing, pelting me in the “toaster” car with hurricane winds and hail. Sometimes we got a respite and lovely breaks of sun.  

Green creature Wai, sunbathed briefly on the dashboard around Erie PA. 

Etta James ignores him. He has no smell and he is not food.

I drove west, past Syracuse, and Rochester and the vineyards of the Finger Lakes–(Eleven long skinny bodies of water like clawed gouges caused by receding glaciers eons ago.) I skirted Lakes Ontario and Erie, drove around Buffalo and proceeded relentlessly west and slightly south as I passed over the Pennsylvania line near Erie and quickly entered Ohio as the sun burst from the morass of cloud cover. I found a Days Inn in Conneaut , pronounced Connie-ought. It’s a wide spot on a secondary highway off interstate 90. They have a Truck Stop and a Days Inn, a Burger King, a Subway and a place with a hand written sign saying “FOOD”. I saw a red-bearded Amish man in McDonalds wearing a well-made broad-brimmed straw hat, and what looked like hand-made dark blue cotton bib overalls. He waved directions to me as I backed out of a parking space . I did not dare to take his picture. Shame on me for letting an artistic moment pass un-documented. More chances to come I hope.

 Sun erupts like God as I cross into Ohio in the picture below. 

The receptionist at the Days Inn desk tells me we are on Central time in Ohio, but how could this be when the internet tells me this transition will happen on the western side of Indiana? My iPhone steadfastly refuses to switch automatically to Central Time. I feel lost temporally (not geographically) and somewhere in limbo zone. So be it. Time for breakfast and being on the road.