Colorado Day Eleven

Today was a travel day. We left our hotel at 7:00 AM and since we are driving east we have already lost one hour.  We drove past several huge stockyards (one was over a mile and a half long with 600,000 cattle and a pungent manure smell for miles) and we met several very long trains loaded with coal (125 cars, according to Leroy).  Other than that there was not much of anything noteworthy until we stopped for lunch.

Everyone listening to their handsets on the tour.

The Great Platte River Road Monument stretches in a huge arch across Interstate 80 in Nevada.  The staff there had prepared lunch for us and then handed each of us a small device with which we could take a self-guided tour through the museum. Impressive displays memorializing the pioneers that crossed our great country before there were roads, automobiles, trains, or planes, included life-size stagecoaches, campsites, a cabin, a diner, old cars, and much more. 

As we walked through at our own pace we were taken on a journey that showed what those brave and hardy souls faced as they set their faces toward the west in search of adventure and a better life. From Donner’s pass where some survived by cannibalizing the less fortunate, to the Mormons who were rescued by Joseph Smith, the hazards faced by those who conquered the unknown were harsh and unforgiving.  One in ten died and some reported they saw graves every 300 yards.  When a husband died it was not unusual for the widow to remarry a recently widowed man within days, for survival, not for love.  What desperation would drive someone to such incredible risk?

At our first bathroom break, early in the day, I walked into the roadside rest area lobby and told Paul that I think we have finally found a nice bunch of bathrooms.  I spoke too soon.  The ladies’ restrooms were, well, let’s just say we were all laughing heartily.  In fact, we took pictures.  Martha posed for us in the one with no door and sporting the big taped X across the opening.  Handwritten signs instructed us to “push button to flush” and warned us of the one “out of order.”  A mysterious wadded up towel was shoved into a corner, stemming the flow of who knows what.  And there were only three stalls open for business, once again.

What the restrooms lacked in quality, the two elderly gentlemen that were manning the info center made up for in hospitality.  They gave us fresh, hot coffee; it was so weak you could see the bottom of the cup but they served it with smiles and kindness.  I reached for a sucker from the candy bowl and they said, “Take more!” So I did.  They had a puzzle set up and some of the ladies immediately hunched over the table and got to work.  We were well entertained while a couple of the guys emptied the bus toilet. 

You might wonder why we don’t just use the bus bathroom since we have one.  Well, with a whole lot of people contributing, it takes very little time to fill the holding tank.  So we only use it under duress and with great urgency.  So to speak.

We stopped for the night in York, NE.  There was a Runza eatery across the driveway where a bunch of us walked to get supper.  Everything was good but they kept running out of things.  I don’t think they were expecting a crowd.  Those tubular sandwiches were very tasty though.  They reminded me of the Pasties from the U.P. in our snowmobiling days.

Us ladies gathered for a rousing game of Golf (the card kind) when we were back at the hotel.  I can’t believe we only have one more night away from home after today.