Today

What will I see today?  Something grand or something simple to be etched in my memory.
Who will I meet today?  What is their story? Where are they headed and why?

Who can I encourage, entertain or inspire today... if only in some small way?

I'm going to immerse myself in this day and savor each moment like it might be my last.
Tomorrow will find me soon enough.

Everything's big in Texas

Everything's big in Texas..........except Alaska.   Since I was a kid reading Dick and Jane, Alaska was a state about the size of Arizona and located just Southwest of Texas.

My Iphone says its North and West and a long way away.  I'm going to find out for myself.

Crazy Horse

After Mt Rushmore we camped just off the road outside of the Crazy Horse visitation center.

It doesn't seem much different than when I was here in 1980. An ambitious private endeavor.

The sculpture is in the distance above Michele in this photo

Gutzon Borglum

If you are like me, you couldn't have guessed that Gutzon Borglum is the artist responsible for the 60 foot faces carved out of granite in the Black Hills of South Dakota. To see it in person is incredible. This guy was so good. He made scaled down sculptures of each president's face and then used a measurement system to translate it to the mountain. 90% of the rock was removed with precise drilling and dynamite.

Wyoming and waffles

Just hit Wyoming. In need of a waffle house fix. Hot, thin waffle with butter and warm syrup. Doesn't that just sound so good!

We stopped and saw Jewel Cave. Amazing! They continue to find new passages and estimate only 5% has been discovered. They've mapped over 170 miles so far.

Pictures of :
- me and Michele in the cave
- soda straw stalactite
- layers of calcite

Rand McNally

When I was younger, a typical gas station had a stack of state highway maps and you could get one for free. I don't recall seeing a Rand McNally atlas until I was a little older.  Often a multi-state trip involved the passenger partially blocking the drivers view while they wrestled the map back to its factory folds. 

Today I'm using Google maps on my iphone.  When there is cell service, I look at the planned course, memorize the next 100 miles or so and take off.   Then as I become engrossed in an audio book, I a miss turn at Bridgeport and drive 50 miles West instead of North.  That is how I get to see cool places like Scott's Bluff National Monument …..on my way to Alaska.

Chadron, NE

It's a lovely day here in fur trapping country. We spent the night in the Walmart parking lot - this is a known friendly spot for RVs.

This morning I pulled into a city park went for a nice walk/run to the top of their hill. Wow. I could see for 100 miles.

Watching the squirrels aggravate each other, I did some work for a few hours.

Pulling out for Mount Rushmore.

a Twainism

I like criticism, but is must be my way. - Mark Twain

Thank you for the many positive comments about this blog (web log).  I just found a setting that would allow anyone to click on the comment button and then select anonymous if they don't have an account to post with.    Or my email is stevecook3dw@gmail.com.
 
I'd love to here from you.

Steve

Carhenge - Alliance, NE

What a country!

B O ?

Scott's Bluff National Monument

The area was named for a fur trapper by the name of Hiram Scott. He was deserted by his companions and died at the base of a magnificent formation of bluffs along the North Platte River in 1828.

(I wonder if he was really irritating or possibly refused to take a bath)

Hook echo !

Sky to the West and North was nasty.
Stopped in a parking lot for the night.
Not trying the jacks.

Storm Chasers

Pulled over talking to some storm chasers

Ball of twine

I think it was Gary and Cindy Heuer that first mentioned the Largest Ball of Twine to me. They had many quests for such obscure destinations off the beaten path. Inspirational. They knew how to soak up life. Cute couple.

So as this trip planning was started I found that the big ball of sisal was indeed between Missouri and Alaska .

Made it Cindy!

All jacked up

Wind is a way of life on this high spot in Kansas. A mile off the main road we saw the historic Beaumont Hotel which has been around since cattle drives and passengers justified 6 trains a day through this prairie.

A little before sundown we parked on a dead end stretch of old road (arc you see North of Beaumont) and put the RV up on its hydraulic/electric jacks. To level it and also stabilize it in the gusts.

This morning I sat out in a lawn chair in the 30 knot breeze and thought and journaled a little. Michele headed out for a walk and that motivated me to have a work out. I ran to town and came back right down the grass strip ( North-South on the East of town)

After cooling down and cleaning up, I was ready to get the show on the road. When I pushed the button for the jacks to RETRACT ALL it did NOTHING.

For the next hour while I pulled fuses, wiggled wires, and tried the switch 37 times, we were all jacked up and not going anywhere. It seemed we were destined to spend the holiday weekend East of Wichita. (big sigh and mumbling)

One wiggle must have worked. On try 38 the coach dropped down on the tires and pulled the jacks up as advertised There was great celebration.

On the road again.

Big Brutus

West Mineral, Kansas

Patience

In a little known interview with Meriwether Lewis near the end of his life, when asked what the first day of the Expedition was like, he rolled his eyes and said, "I was ready on Tuesday like we'd agreed and Clark was still packing bags Wednesday morning!"

I just made that up.

Day 1 - exotic Joplin, MO

The Jerk

As I finished packing the RV today I felt like Steve Martin in that "all I need" scene from The Jerk

I finally just closed the garage door and left.

On the road!

Runny yolks and toast

My eyes opened slowly in the shade of a huge sycamore tree just 20' off the shoulder of Highway 40 outside of Elko, Nevada. The mid morning temperature was perfect and I don't remember a sleeping bag ever feeling so good.  I had driven through the night from Salt Lake City, stopping once in the desert, attempting to sleep behind the wheel only to toss and turn and nearly freeze to death.  As the sun was coming up, I had sleepily pulled off to this grassy spot, threw down my bag and was asleep in minutes.

My stomach was growling as I eased the car onto the road and headed into town.  Local cafes and truck stops have always called to me.  I rolled into the gravel parking lot of a classic that would have made CW McCall proud.  Heading in the door, I lost my first nickel gambling with one pull on an old slot machine.  I was feeling my oats and  straddled a bar stool right between two truckers.

The first cup of coffee needs no company.  Resting an elbow on the worn bar I sipped the cup and thought about what to order.  I watched as the waitress delivered eggs over easy, toast, hash browns and bacon to the guy to my right.  He grabbed a piece of toast, dipped it in the runny yolks and took a big bite.  I’d never seen that before.  I told her, “I’ll have what he’s havin’”, and I still dip my toast to this day.

This adventure happened in September of 1980.  I received a call from my dad asking if I wanted to drive a car from Olathe, Kansas to San Francisco.   I knew this was a cool thing then, but over the years it has become more impressive that I had such an opportunity! The car was a beautiful, red, 1965 Mustang.

The trip was made possible by Claude Jinks (see first blog post).  The Mustang belonged to his brother and needed to be delivered to California.  "You can take up to two weeks and any route you want and I'll pay the gas", he had told me.  He also laid out the map on the kitchen table and enjoyed giving me ideas for things to see and "what he'd probably do".  1980 TRIP MAP

Thank you Claude for that adventure.  Here I go on another but none will ever replace that trip in the Mustang.

Merle Haggard

I've got Merle Haggard songs stuck in my head:

I'm tired of this dirty old city.
Entirely too much work and never enough play.
And I'm tired of these dirty old sidewalks.
Think I'll walk off my steady job today.

Turn me loose, set me free, somewhere in the middle of Montana.
And gimme all I got comin' to me,
And keep your retirement and your so called social security.
Big City turn me loose and set me free.

Just how far is that?

Having traveled a good bit in the lower 48 this comparison helped me get an idea of just how far it is to Alaska.

Driving from Springfield, MO
to New York City
and then heading to Los Angeles, California
is  3,948 miles.

Driving from Springfield, MO
to Homer, Alaska  (direct)
is 3,919 miles

Maybe I will get one of those seat covers made out out of beads.