Cowboy Country

I was awake early but dawdled this morning to take advantage of the free breakfast at the Howard Johnson. Best restaurant food to date. The French toast made from a delicious corn bread. Obviously though, the farms out here in Nebraska don’t have dairy cows since neither cup of coffee (dinner or breakfast) came with cream, only artificial coloring. I guess you can’t get milk from corn and you don’t milk beef cows.



A freight train crawls out of the fog along the Lincoln Hwy.



I left Grand Island under a cloak of fog and a heavy mist. It wasn’t actually raining but the droplets were sliding down my visor just the same. It was cooler than most places across the Midwest and I didn’t mind having on a sweater and raincoat. Grand Island claimed to have one of the only original pieces of the Lincoln highway pavement so I headed downtown to find it. I didn’t actually find that one piece but managed to travel the highway for a short distance before heading back to I-80 west and on to Wyoming. As I traveled today the flat, corn-covered prairie gradually gave way to rugged rolling hills dotted with dark cattle. Whoever called Montana big sky country hasn’t seen the sky in Western Nebraska. You can see forever. The heavy thunder heads slowly began to break leaving blue skies filled with billowing white clouds that were endless. I passed several kilometer long freight trains creeping, across the countryside and couldn’t help feeling sorry for the folks who’d be camping back at the KOA in Rock Island because I’m sure each and every one of them was headed there tonight.



My pony against
 Wyomings Big Sky

Just as I rode past the sign telling me I was now entering Mountain time I looked down to see Dan’s clock pop back an hour. Needless to say I was back on schedule and even early. I arrived in Cheyenne at 2:30 mountain time. This whole time change thing has really been on my side on the ride west, I just hate knowing it’s going to work against me on my return. And speaking of Dan he did alright today. I think I’ll add elevation to the screen as I start heading into the mountains.

I’m now in Cowboy country, sleeping tonight in my little paprika tent. It’s beautiful. I missed a wonderful photograph that said it all this afternoon. I happened to glance up to the top of a grassy hill along the highway and there stood a lone mustang, proud against the background of vast blue sky and billowing clouds. It was Wyoming at a glance. Travelling on the superslab as I am there’s no real spot to stop and enjoy the beauty. Wyoming will take me two days to cross but before I leave Cheyenne I think I’ll head down to see some of the famous cowboy town.