We traveled 276 miles today, through the beautiful rolling countryside of western Iowa and northwestern Missouri, full of corn and soybeans resplendent in their reddish-bronze and golden fall glory. Farmland undulating to the horizon; fields harvested at various crop tops, rolling into the distance like so many barber school subjects. Silos and farmhouses punctuating the hilltops in an uneven row of awaiting chairs.
Our drive took about six hours, and included a brief fuel, then potty/lunch stop, and one regroup as we discussed how the turn I’d missed rerouted us a half hour longer – through even more small, scenic towns. I’d been chatting with our Tucson contractor Martín, who is in the demolition phase of Paul’s and my downsizing project, and I was so engrossed in visualizing our closet and main bathroom floor plan modifications that I neglected to see the Apple Maps countdown to turn right until it was too late.
Quite incorrectly, I assumed the right turn a mile and a half further down the road would bring us back in line with our original itinerary. Sadly, it did not. But on the plus side we drove through Dickens, Kiron, and Persia. Then Carson and Emerson. And it wouldn’t have been the same journey had we skipped Shenandoah and Tarkio … or so my camera roll tells me. Hah!
We arrived at tonight’s stopover – Indian Cave State Park in Shubert, Nebraska – at about two o’clock in the afternoon. Plenty of time to set up camp and head back to the office for a map and our vehicle passes. (And a really cute wooden refrigerator magnet that reminded me of a Junior Ranger badge. Hmmm … this could be my version of stickers….)
We are crossing our fingers that as Paul and I hit symptom day 5 of our Covid Lite, we can make some social distancing sacrifices like riding together in the BMW that Paul caravans in with us so he and I have that vehicle in Arizona. The four of us loaded up and drove the long and winding road through the park to the Indian Cave, situated along the Missouri River.
If I’m being honest, the cave was a bit of a letdown, and more of a slightly overhanging bluff, but there were a couple of (very small) petroglyph carvings we could discern, along with some of the standard Kilroy Was Here graffiti from the ages. The hike up the bluff, to the Water View so prominently displayed in our AllTrails map, was vigorous, and equally disappointing. The undergrowth was so overgrown as to virtually obliterate the inaptly named destination. Ah, well, the exercise felt good after two days of driving.
Back at the campground, I took a brief nap during the start of Happy Hour. And, with biting flies, gnats, and mosquitoes at record levels, plus some VERY strange smelling local foliage surrounding the campground (think wafts of sour milk alternating with baby diapers), we bit the Covid Lite bullet again and dined inside tonight, together. Thoughts and prayers….
It was great to have the original gang back together, laughing and playing cribbage after dinner before an early bedtime. Tomorrow will bring another adventure as we continue to meander south by southwest.
philipedwinpark 