Dinosaurs East of the 100th Meridian

East bound through Nebraska, along parts of the Oregon and California Trails, Pony Express Route, and the Lincoln Highway.

Bidding a fond farewell to the Cobblestone Inn, and the 1909 Morrill County Courthouse just next door, the road quickly unfolded under clear skies. Storms had raged all around and along the intended path for this day, throughout the entire evening. Bridgeport had escaped unscathed with no more than a show of lightening overnight. Small cumulus appeared randomly, which would grow quietly and persistently, stalking travels of the day.

An hour into the journey homeward, Ash Hollow State Historical Park appeared suddenly around a bend, seemingly out of nowhere. The site has a history that extends more than 3 millennia. A small cave validates much of that journey through time. The cool sweet water spring it hosts made it a highly valued stop along the Oregon and California trails. A turn of the century schoolhouse stands sentinel at the opposite end from the visitor center. As well, a few blocks further down the road, the Windlass site shows off a typical homestead home of the time and ruts left by the wagon trains. Grounds were inaccessible on this visit, so said tracks were not validated.

The original plan considered connecting with Interstate 80 and flying back as quickly as possible. Mood, coupled with voices from the elders gathered around the campfire the night before, discouraged those ambitions. Massive construction efforts were underway in the region, suggesting the current trajectory was likely more temporally profitable. Two lane blacktop across the never ending farmland first offered up an abandoned rest area. The space gave a moment to reflect, while gazing out across the fields to Lake McConaughy on the distant horizon. Followed up by a good stretch across gravel made for a good morning on the road and put things in the right perspective.

The Lincoln Highway presented a few interesting points, along this very first transcontinental roadway specifically laid out for automobiles. The preferred route for anyway wanting to cross the 5,000 kilometres from New York City to San Francisco, it kept folks out of the mud, allowed things to move faster, and contributed significantly to mass human migrations across the United States.

Long before all of that, an 1854 fur trading post and ranch house on the Oregon Trail became an important station for the Pony Express. It served routes west for the Overland Trail Stage after that, retiring as a dwelling some time around 1931. Relocated from its original site to Ehmen Park in Gothenburg, it is dedicated to "All Pioneers Who Passed This Way, To Win and Hold the West."

Cumulus piled up all around all day, threatening yet more wind, rain, and hail. Two systems swirled around our location, tracking our moves. Maneuvers were mostly successful. We remained out in front of the situation for a good little while.

Arriving at the point where east meets west, the 100th Meridian west of Greenwich, the storm had gathered some speed and caught up to the refueling mission in Cozad. Buckets of rain fell for a few minutes and reduced visibility to near zero, as we watched the tirade from the under the awning of a local station.

It all moved off as quickly as it had arrived and the sun poked in and out, as we passed through a variety of small towns that pepper the landscape. One maintained their artillery openly, while all others kept it politely out of site. A few other veterans kept their proudly on display in the back window gun rack; a sight not often seen these days.

Alda still struggled with effects of the storm from the night before. Multiple power lines leaned toward the highway, while construction crews assessed the situation. Efforts to ignore the interstate were strangled just after that, a little east of Grand Island. It was not all that it was cracked up to be. Agreeing the right decision had been made earlier to avoid the situation, a return to the two-lanes occurred with the most expediency possible.

That short stretch required to get to Lincoln left a longing for a little scenery. Disengaging from the interstate encouraged a loop through Arbor Lodge State Historic Park for a small walkabout around a site this is becoming the perfect pit stop for chill reflection.

An infestation of dinosaurs nearby necessitated a return to the necessary evil of the high-speed blacktop though. Time was waning and there is no quicker way anyhow. Jumping across the state line into Iowa, the southbound journey along the interstate turned mostly uneventful.

Storms that had raged around us the night before, and most of the day, had traveled our path throughout the night, landing in Kansas City for a time. Cresting a hill south of St. Joseph, the trailing edge of a storm stood out clearly on the horizon and, according to our source on the ground, currently pounding the city. A summary end to the entire adventure. Chasing the storm away in this skirmish, the sun quickly shined upon home base, just in time for arrival.