"Central America" - Mid-West and Great Lakes States
	Day 2:  Sunday, October 6, 2002

The alarm sounded at 5:21am (I guess using technical gadgets like clocks shouldn't be left to the boy), and as such, we rolled into the car and were on our way at 5:46am.  It could have been sooner, sure, but at one degree above freezing, I suggested we let the engine idle away for a while before we raced down the interstate at 90, er, 75 MPH, the posted speed limit, as good, proper and law-abiding citizens would do.

Whatever, right?  Anyway.

With sunrise at 7:30am or so, and our first stop not for ages, you can relax from the drudgery of clicking.  Even at 6:42am, when we stopped after seeing 20 miles worth of billboards talking about Little America.  Thinking that most of the parts of [the United States of] America had been okay to see, we gave it a go.  And were bitterly disappointed it's nothing more than good marketing around a hotel and RV park.  Bastards.  (Throughout the day, we saw two or three more of these.)  If you'd like to see their blurry-looking, huge gas tanks or their neon sign, well, then you can click.  I also tried taking a photo of first light around 6:48am, but that didn't go well.  (He's blaming the poor quality of pictures on both the low light and cold temperatures... hell's bells, son, the temperature rose 4 degrees to 37°F by this time!)

So, let's fast-forward to the prelude to sunrise, this about five minutes before the sun cleared the horizon.  At least the lighting was natural, so things weren't quite to horribly blurry.  And then skip another hour to Rawlins, a quaint little town of  9,400 or so (and by Wyoming standards, a good-sized community).  I found that they enjoy posting signs, even to countermand them 50 feet down the road... but bear in mind this was taken just outside of the Department of Transportation's maintenance yard, so maybe it was this, or go do real work.  What else... a drive-thru liquor store.  Nice.  The sign that billboards proclaimed sold everything imaginable in a camouflage print.  Closed.  I'm sorry, but I couldn't disguise my disappointment -- even if someone gave me some olive drab and brown paint at that moment.  But it's no small town -- this is just one of several traffic lights they were sporting in town, this one at Spruce and Third Streets.  And then we left.  But not before the boy messed up again.

An annoying nature picture of snow and junk... why I took it, I don't know.  Look at it.  Or don't.  Whatever.

Another reminder of why I don't let the boy use the camera whenever I can avoid it.  Apologies.  The gray clouds looks imposing, but no, that's not an overly filthy windshield - it's rain.  And it's 38 degrees outside.  A bit cooler, and we can cope with snow.  I'd rather not, of course.  (Snow chains?  The boy laughed at the very suggestion.)

Having avoided a thundershower, or maybe it was just a weak drizzle, we arrived in Laramie.  We drove around a bit, found a convenience store (cop lingo: stop-and-rob) with a name that I'd never have suggested, passed the courthouse which actually looked the part, and then wandered down by the University of Wyoming at Laramie (coeds, woohoo!).  I would have never thought there's have been an agricultural fraternity -- who knew?  That grew stale, and we managed to find another Wal-Mart that's for sale before finding the new (improved?) one that's open.  (The boy went shopping for a new thermometer, for a story yet to be told.)

A bit after 11am (and well after I mentioned lunch was approaching, and was ignored), we stopped in the middle of the road for a "Point of Interest".  No description, no hint, nothing.  Turns out that by reading the sign, we learn that the tree to the sign's right has been growing out of nearly solid granite for many, many years.  Neat.  So, when's lunch?  Denied.

So, 11:30am, we reach Cheyenne - the state capital of the state of Wyoming.  And a good place for lunch, huh.  We aren't going for lunch here, but it seems the boy was almost trying to get arrested by cruising by the police station twice to get a picture of the sergeant's car.  And he paid no mind to the two officers watching us the whole time.  Geez...

So, we left Cheyenne heading for Nebraska.  And yes, I realize this is now the second time we've hit Cheyenne without really taking any good pictures.  I'm sure there's lots of fabulous stuff, we just haven't found it -- and it's not like the boy will ask anyway.  So, we reach Nebraska about 12:15pm.  Soon after, we wondered if we could find any wrongfully-accused surgeons wandering about in this town, but to no avail.  But it wasn't a total loss.  We did find the standard water tower, but this one wasn't proud enough to be elevated.  This sign troubles me... is this to suggest that they'll leave the driving to you? 

The city of Sidney (Nebraska, not to be confused with the Australian trip last month, seen here) of 6,000 was both a fueling point, and the gateway to the next leg of the trip.  But, no lunch here, either (it's now 1:30pm, by the way).  I took a bunch of pictures of houses, but I doubt you care.  They are a cool enough town to just put their initial on the water tower (or leave it blank), and people still know whose it is.  Neat trick, eh?

We also passed Gurley (just me and the water tower, no city sign found) and their fine intersection at First Street and Lincoln.  We wandered down the road to Dalton, featuring both the sign and the water tower.  Then thru Bridgeport about 20 minutes later (now 2:20pm) along with a couple of the locals.  Bridgeport was fun in that it's the first time I've driven through an anti-abortion protest in progress.  I didn't get their pic, but I did get one of the courthouse they'll be arraigned at, if things get ugly.

Ever wonder where old farm equipment goes when it dies?  Y'know, the tractors, combines, and sharecroppers?  Well, now you know.  We reached Alliance around 3pm, and after passing through another gaggle of protestors (is the first Sunday of the month protest Sunday?) we made our way to the target destination 'round these parts - Carhenge. 

On our way out of town, and finally -- lunch!  Of course, reading the sign, there was mention of free Carhenge postcards at the McDonalds, but they didn't know what we were talking about.  Figuring to go to Plan B, where K-Mart was purported to carry Carhenge stuff, we asked Todd on our way out.  He said K-Mart is pretty easy to find... it's across the driveway.  We walk out the door, and damn, damn, damn.  And you wonder why we don't ask directions.  (Of course, we couldn't find anything in K-Mart, and hell will freeze over before we ask for help again.)  So we left.

We drove thought such thriving villages as Broadwater (population 140), Oshkosh featuring two cool museums we didn't visit, Ogallala (6,000 people, but sort of tired of stopping at every town), passed a sunflower farm, and within a few more minutes, we were back in I-80.  I like interstates.

Just as the sun was beginning to threaten attacked the horizon, we passed an anticipated, but not sought-after, little sign, "Central Time Zone."  Well, that's nice, but we just lost an hour of time, although not really, just technically.  So, it was now 7pm and we weren't going to reach the stopping point before dark.  Phooey.

We popped into Gothenburg, Nebraska - the home of one of the few existing Pony Express stations (a short blob about it is on the web).  Much like us today, the sun has set on this little bit of Americana.  I thought it would have been both amusing and ironic to have placed a mail box on the sidewalk outside of the place, but to no avail.  You can see the cabin, and I posed with the big ol' rock with a couple of commemorative plaques on it.  And yes, I'll try to get there during day light on the way back and see if I missed anything (doesn't look like it, though).

A bit after 8pm (Central Time), we set foot in Cozad, the home of the 100th Meridian.  (Not that anyone was scraping the bottom of the barrel for a claim to fame or anything.)  After a quick wander around town to find there's not much there here, we headed off to the only chain-sounding cheap motel... yup, Motel 6.  But how can you wrong for $40 a night?  Well, I guess you could sleep in the car with the engine running for less, but this place has a dial-up connection for posting updates.  Yea!  And that said, I'm going to bed... Cozad pictures tomorrow, or on the way back.  Pictures at night, well, look awful.

Stay tuned tomorrow... I've got something under my wing to amuse you.  Or annoy you, but either way, it's a treat (for me, if nothing else).