After a night of thundering rain, the kitties and I woke to
sunshine in Peoria. Neither of them was happy to be placed in their respective
carriers, but they resigned themselves to another long drive with few
protestations.
It occurred to me as I drove how different this trip was
since my last westward journey by car. At that time I drove an un-air-conditioned
1973 Chevy Nova without a radio. Young and stupid, I drove for twelve to sixteen
hour stretches, with only a couple of overnight motel stops. When my brother
and I crossed back to Ohio on that same trip, he and I took turns driving
straight through with only fuel and meal stops. I recall we stopped for coffee somewhere
in Canada in the middle of the night and I fell asleep at the table.
My comfort levels have changed, and so has technology in
cars. Other than my car being cramped, the ride is more comfortable and the
book on CD has kept me focused. I made a couple of water stops along the way
and Henry was grateful. Pablo pouted and refused to drink on my presence. At a
Phillips 66 during a fuel stop I ate a hot dog I bought. It's definitely hard
to eat healthy fare on the road when you can’t sit down for a meal.
The Midwest is largely flat, but Iowa has a couple of
distinguishing characteristics. Every few miles, I noticed windmills, looming
like large white mechanical birds. The second oddity is the red colored freeway
lanes heading west. The eastbound lanes have the normal gray hue, but for about
thirty miles the west bound lanes are a terracotta red.
Other than in construction zones and within cities, most of
the way the speed limit was 70 mph. When I crossed into Nebraska, the speed
limit increased to 75, and even as I drove 77-79, cars flew past me. At one
point a sheriff’s car tailgated me until I sped up to 83 to let him pass. His
lights weren't flashing, so I wondered why he was in such a hurry. I was also
relieved he didn't ticket me.
Overall I made good time until I hit Lincoln T rush journey,
going the wrong way on I-180. I finally stopped at a muffler place, parked, and
called the hotel. I was clear on the west side of town and I needed to be
around fifty blocks east of there. This put me right in the downtown, and if it
weren't for the cats, who were both crying by now, I would have stopped and
checked out one of the cafes I spotted along the way. I found the hotel, but I
have idea how I will find 80 West again in the morning.
It was much easier unloading the cats and my luggage. I may
not be so lucky tomorrow, though. I turned on the 6 o clock news when I dropped
cats and bags in the room and the prediction is more rain.
I tried to find Panera for dinner, but the desk clerk's
directions were vague, so I ended up at a mall, eating lousy spaghetti and
meatballs. I should have stopped at the nearby Olive garden, but I'm on a new
city and wanted to try something new.
I couldn't find the street going back to my hotel until
after I passed it, but I spotted a Barnes and Noble. I browsed for a bit, but
did not want to add ONE more thing to my pigsty of a car, so I left empty
handed. I headed back to the hotel, but that section of the road was one way.
So how the hell was I supposed to find the place? Many of the streets in Lincoln
have Names like O or R Street that intersect with numbered streets. I drove
endlessly in circles until I found the hotel by accident. As Elizabeth says,
lost is the new black, so I am tres stylish today.
Now enjoying my nightly glass of red and some pistachios and
almonds I found in my purse.
Tomorrow, Cheyenne, Wyoming.
