A Blog Along The Lincoln Highway

Friday morning we eat the freebie breakfast in the lobby of our motel. I ask Bob and Glenn if they would mind checking out the fabled Fort Cody souvenir stand here in North Platte. It’s right on the other side of the interstate. No objections.

But first I want to finish my blog entry. Glenn and I have both been getting spotty wireless service in this Holiday Inn Express. It comes and goes. We eventually end up publishing the post in the lobby of the motel where the wireless seems a bit more steady and reliable.

We drive north across the bridge over I-80 to Fort Cody. This family-owned-and-run store has been highly recommended by Brian Butko, but I want to see it before I say we’re gonna do a story there. There’s a big flat Buffalo Bill statue in the parking lot, and a sign on the outside of the Fort that says jokingly “Tourist Trap!” Good signs.

We go in and scope it out. The store is big, but none of the three of us is much impressed. In the back of the shop, there are some old models of the Buffalo Bill Wild West Show (have I mentioned that Buffalo Bill Cody made his home here in North Platte for many years?) In big glass fronted boxes, there are toy-like layouts with figurines that move in a simple, mechanically animated style in a sort of “show” every half hour or so. It’s odd. The whole display is old but it’s extremely well maintained, so it has none of the funky charm that can make such a vintage miniature world kind of cool and fascinating. It’s just simple. And freshly painted. Everything works.

And the store is immaculate. All the goods are perfectly presented on ultra-clean and orderly shelves. It’s just too nice for me. I want more funk factor in such a place. I want to think I may look on a bottom shelf and find a box of old leather bookmarks from the 40s that everyone has forgotten about. (I think I want to be at South of The Border on I-95 or maybe at the old Gay Dolphin in downtown Myrtle Beach.) There are no forgotten cardboard displays of old sunglasses or stacks of curling and brittle decals here. Fort Cody is a modern, glossy version of a souvenir stand.

We nonetheless each get some postcards and geegaws and silly presents, but we agree to slip away without even asking to talk to the owners. We want to get back on the road.