A Blog Along The Lincoln Highway

The bus tour continues on to Granger. This is the point in Wyoming where Route 30 turns north toward Portland, Oregon, and the old Lincoln Highway goes southwest toward Salt Lake City and eventually on to San Francisco.

The buses stop at a recently restored stone structure in the middle of this small town. It’s a old Stage Coach Station. And our expert preservationist and tour guide Todd Thibodeau gives a short talk about the place.

He also talks a little bit about Little America, the travel company that runs (among other things) a hotel/giftshop/truckstop/gas station that advertises heavily along interstate 80. It was originally along the Lincoln Highway at an intersection just south of Granger, and I was only semi-interested until I heard that the founder named his business after the camp in Antarctica because he had once been trapped at that original location in a winter storm, and he thought it must be like Antarctica. I think Little America should use some of that history to attract customers too.
I think everybody is pooped. Bob and Glenn have jumped in and out of our van about 500 times today. Even the Lincoln Highway folks look like they’re ready to get back to their rooms in Evanston.

Bob gets a shot of the buses heading out of town, and we realize we don’t really have any idea where we are or which way we should go at that intersection south of town. So I see that one of the tour vehicles is still there, just pulling out. I ask the woman at the wheel if she can give us directions. She and the woman next to her start laughing.

“We have no idea where we are either,” the driver says. “We’ll go out that way, and we’ll hope for the best.”

The other woman says, “Did you guys get a drink or a cookie? Would you like one?”

“Oh,” I say, “I think you could twist our arms.”

These two women have been following the caravan of buses all day long, setting up snacks and drinks at the various stops, and they put together the lunch stop too. Now they pull over to the side of the road, open the back of their truck and pull out their plastic drums of lemonade and iced tea. We find out they are Nancy Stevenson and Selina Zevehlsdorff, and we appreciate their kindness on a hot dry Friday afternoon. We love them.