2/38 – A weekend off: 24-28 Aug 2024

 The road from Greeley was unremarkable. It was long and straight and ran between files of corn and sorghum or alfalfa. What struck me was the scale, which was both impressive, sheer size, and depressive, how natures endless variety had been changed into a monotonous uniformity that only man could achieve, in equal measure.

Soon I was in the Nebraska Sandhills, which are sand dunes 25-400 feet high, covered in grass. The soil is fragile and, consequently, has never been ploughed. The area is grassland and well suited to grazing cattle, so was infinitely more varied than previously.

My only stop en route was in Broken Bow, to put on my waterproof as it looked like rain ahead; and it was a bit chilly. Arriving in Arnold, I found Sheryl and Jon Phillips, her friend, at Brew Bakers, a smart coffee and goodie shop. As I walked up to greet them, one of the staff looked at me and said, with a smile only an Irishwoman could give “Are you from Belfast? I’m from Kilkenny!” What chance?

Réalta had moved to Arnold 2 years ago with her mother and father, and she said, so far it was good. It was a really pleasant surprise to meet her, with her easy going Irish chat. The others said that her Irish accent suddenly became clear, as soon as she started speaking with me! 😂

Jon had arranged for me to leave my bike at his ex-wife’s house, because the road to his, based on Sheryl’s assessment was not bike friendly. When we travelled it some 45 minutes later, I agreed.

Jon lives about 6 km west of Arnold and then about 5 km from the road. It is a fantastic spot, peaceful and with expansive views of the surrounding countryside. We had an excellent lunch, with Jon’s neighbours and then went to the cinema. Twisters! 🙄

Sunday 25 Aug 2024

Sheryl left us early, but not before we had breakfasted on Jon’s tasty biscuits and gravy. This was something I had seen on menus frequently, but couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to smother a digestive biscuit in Bisto. The truth is somewhat different. The biscuits are what I would call scones, and the gravy is white, a bit like bechamel sauce with pork/bacon in it,. While Jon went to Church, I caught up on my blog. On his return, what followed could well be described as a perfect day: we had some lunch; did a bit of shooting; took a drive in Jon’s 5-litre Mustang, which I was allowed to drive; and finished the day of with a snack and some of the delicious rhubarb and strawberry pie, with ice-cream, left over from yesterday’s lunch.

Monday 26 Aug 2024

All good things must come to an end, so on Monday morning I packed up and after a solid breakfast went into town to recover my bike. The road was, again, unremarkable, with Sandhills to the north and farmland to the south.

There were, however, a couple of stops, recommended by Jon, that I had to make. The first was in Paxton, at Ole’s Big Game Steakhouse and Lounge. Just off Highway 30 to the south, this establishment is renowned for its display of hunting trophies. This includes many N American species: moose, white tails and elk etc, but what sets it apart is the collection of non-native species. There are numerous African animals mounted, including elephant, eland, buffalo, giraffe and several antelopes, and even a full-size mount of a polar bear. Certainly, this place is worth stopping in, if you’re passing.

Next stop was Front Street, Ogallalla. This is a small recreation of an old western town Main Street. It was still closed when I passed at 1100, so I went to the gas station opposite or my coffee.

I finished my journey to Scottsbluff and Don and Lorna Nash’s home where I was spending the night. Here, while exchanging stories of this and that, I was treated to some cold beer and an expertly cooked braii. After dinner, Lorna and I pored over her new large scale road atlas. She pointed out some good routes to get me to Yellowstone, and based on her recommendations, I made my (new) plan.

Lorna and Don have a super German Shepherd, called Freda; I decided there and then, that as soon as this venture is finished, I will be getting a dog, or two.

Tuesday 27 Aug 2024

By there time I surfaced, both Don and Lorna had left for work – he starts at 4 am! After coffee, I packed up, closed the garage door and got on my way. I had asked if I could wash my jacket the night before, as I though it might have a few little critters hiding in there which would account for the bites I had on my arms. When I recovered it this morning, I found a thoughtful, and amusing little gift from Lorna; thank you!

Today’s ride was a straightforward, 3-hour ride, complicated only by the fact that my GPS, didn’t show the road that paralleled the Interstate towards Casper. Google did, so I set out with my route card on top of the tank bag.

Ignoring the GPS I stuck to Highway 26 and arrived in Guernsey, Lorna’s birthplace planning to have breakfast. She and Don had relocated from here because the railway had closed its operation there and the town was now slowly dying; sound familiar?

On Google, I found Twister’s Eatery, rated 4,5 stars; just the place for breakfast. I arrived at +/- 1020 and sat down. I waited for a while, and at 1035, the waitress, who had greeted me somewhat perfunctorily, if not sourly, when I entered came to my table and said, “Hi, you’re my first customer for lunch!” “I don’t want lunch,” I replied, “I wanted breakfast.” “That finished at 1030,” was the response! My protestations relating to the time of my arrival etc, etc made no impression on this sweet maid, so I upped, collected my bits and left, voicing my displeasure loudly.

I crossed the road to Ben’s Bar & Grill, where I had a much more hospitable reception. There was no breakfast on the menu, but there was a BLT available. Although I had to wait for service to start at 1100, the girls agreed that putting and egg in and leaving the lettuce out of the BLT would constitute a great breakfast. Coffee was made to tide me over, and I left with my hunger sated, and the Guernsey’s reputation restored.

The road I was following tracked the interstate fairly closely, in fact I had to take this for a short while. The two roads have a totally different feel: on one its as if you are separate from your surroundings, with the landscape being “out there”; on the other you are immersed in that landscape, feeling as if you could almost touch it. I watched cars flash by about 50 metres away and wondered why anyone would take that option, when here was a perfect road, winding through rather than across the land, with virtually no-one else on it. On second thoughts, stay there Mr Car and Truck Driver!

Did I say straightforward? Listen to the fates laughing!!

At Douglas, I messaged Rob, my host, to say I would be there at approximately 1530; it was about 100 km. Again, the GOS wanted me to take the interstate, but I had found another route. I followed HW 25, as I had done all morning and took HW 93 heading north out of town. Then following all the other vehicles, I took, what I thought was HW 95 heading west. The road was great; it went up and down (it had been labelled as leading to Rolling Hills) through the hills, had a perfect surface and was almost empty. Then after  km, the tar stopped, and the road was earth packed with hardcore. Disconcerted, I thought that this would probably only be a short stretch, so I continued. 12km later I stopped by a road crew to learn that this road was a service road for the oil and gas fields and there was no exit! My only option was to turn around.

After 90 negatory km, 25 on the unsaved road, I was back on track. An hour later, and 90 minutes later than predicted, I arrived. I was aching; even though you keep telling yourself to relax, when on an unpaved road you are always tense. Your grip is tighter than necessary and your shoulders tense up. Ross road was a great ride, and I enjoyed the ride tremendously; just a pity it didn’t go anywhere!

Rob and Daniela welcomed me with a degree of relief, having messaged me to enquire if all was well when I don’t arrive as expected. We went to a local biker bar for a drink, before having a most welcome dinner. Then, still sore and aching from my earlier exertions, I took myself off to bed.

So now I’m up to date 👏😁 and ready for the next chapter. It looks like my Bunk-a-Biker days are over for now. Fir them next 5 days, at least, I will be camping 😬; to and through Yellowstone. Then it’s a straight 🤣🤣 run up to Coldstream in BC.

I hope the weather ladies are kind.