A long day across those plains.

Out of Boulder, down past a hazy Denver in thew distance of my left windows.

The run from Denver to the Northwest corner of Colorado’s prairie flank is always surprise and, kinda sad or something. Smells like cowshit and when you stop, flies swarm the rig. Gary was bummed.

017. “What the first 100 miles of the days always looks like.”

Up into Nebraska, thinking about Styk, and his parents there, and how I should stop, and how I didn’t have time, and how dumb that was. Rats.

018. “Home of the Cornhuskers.”
019. “Another long haul Gary, surveying the rest stop parking lot.”

I hammered all the way to Kearney and pulled off to take some backroads for a bit, or, just “not on the Interstate.” Highway 30, or, “The Lincoln Highway.”

I only took it for about 100 miles, making absolute terrible time, but, enjoying the dusk air, cornfields and grain elevators every 10 miles.

A little town called, “Cozad” had one of the original Prairie Express stops, so, that was enough to lure me in.

020. “An original Pony Express stop.”
021. “To Win and Hold the West.”
022. “Stations every 5 to 20 miles, with brave riders going 75 to 100 miles per shift. 023. “Nothing like a MIdwestern home. Nothing.”
024. “That mural in downtown Cozad. So good.”
025. “Something we love: Post Office signage.”
026. “Takin’ life slow on Highway 30.”
027. “Out my left window, and right window too.”
028. “The Lincoln Highway.”

I pulled back onto I-80 as darkness fell, and pushed it all the way into a late night Des Moines, Iowa, with hope of getting all the way to Iowa City. That didn’t happen.

A long day. 700 miles or something.

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Some facts about the Pony Express.

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Someone we’ve been listening to as we haul ass due east: Portland’s own, Blitzen Trapper.