Jarrett is driving. Moving along at a brisk clip. We can’t see another car right now. Bob says, “We own this road!” We’re passing quickly through Maxwell, NE, just trying to rack up some miles. The sun will set later tonight because we’re farther west.
Bob is in the passenger seat, starting to get excited about the light that grows more rich and golden as the day ends. Jarrett is eating a pretzel rod. I’m suiting in the back seat pecking away at the tiny touch-screen keyboard on my iPhone. This postcard comes immediately from the road.
About two hours ago we stopped just east of Kearny at the very first Cabela’s store. A rugged, manly place to buy hunting and fishing gear, this Kearny store was far less spacious and less Disney-esque than the store I’ve been to near Wheeling, WV.
We’re in North Platte now, crossing a viaduct over the train tracks, and I want to stop typing and look out he window.
Now we’re pulling over to the side of the road to get some beauty shots of the setting sun and the wildflowers at the side of the road and the rolling hills just to the north. Bob is always looking for “frames,” and Jarrett got his little mini-DV camera out too. There are few other cars on the highway and I tell Jarrett now’s a good time to get the middle-of-the-road shot if he wants to set the camera on the yellow line. Up close and on the ground with the Lincoln Highway.
We own this road again. And it goes on and on. We would like to get to Wyoming before stopping for the night but realize that’s impossible.