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This week I had a vacation, this is what I did: Enjoy your Sunday!
Sunday, July 9, 2006
Day one wyoming/nebraska
I left my family to go to New Hampshire on July 25th at about 8AM. This was going to be my longest cross country drive and the biggest life change I've experienced since my marriage and the birth of my children.
I was scared to death and excited. The part of getting the job I was most excited about was the trip across the country but as the day got closer I got more afraid then I've been for quite a while. Anything can happen to you when you're out on the road and don't have a place to call home, on top of it every valuable possession I own was going to be out there with me. If I didn't make it it would be a catastrophe.
My first day started out easily enough, driving up through park city and through Wyoming. My first stop was at the Little America on the west side of Wyoming. I'd been there long long ago with my parents. I worked for Mr. Holding at Sun Valley years ago it's hard to believe that this was the place that started him on the road to becoming a billionaire. Anything can happen in America.
Driving and driving, Wyoming is the most barren sad place I've ever seen. There's just not much to say about it because on the stretch of I-80 I went through there just isn't much there.
The picture is of the end of Wyoming, this is the first place I've ever been where there wasn't a mountain in sight, I took pictures in all four directions to commemorate the occasion. It was the beginning of the great plains and I had no idea how great they are
Nebraska is green, when I thought places in Utah were green I'm ashamed that I thought I knew what green was. I was seriously in awe of the plains. Fields everywhere, mostly it looked like alfalfa, it was rolled up into bales but only one out of every 10 fields had cows in it. I'm wondering if cows just eat so much that it takes 10 fields of alfalfa to feed one field of cows or does it just make sense to grow the feed in Nebraska and ship it to cows in less prosperous country.
I made it to a town called North Platte and found a Howard Johnson's with rooms with individual doors on them. This was important because I planned on unloading all the stuff from the car every night. I didn't want to take a chance on someone breaking a window to get my dell or a huge file box of PlayStation games.
I had dinner at a local restaurant, the staff was very friendly, the waitress sat at my table to take my order and recommended the roasted chicken with stuffing. It sucked, the chicken was dry, the stuffing was pasty but the mashed potatoes were nice and I liked the gravy. Either the tastes of the locals are off or they were trying to get rid of it, the cook came up to say I got the last one. Lucky me.
I finished up the night by calling my dear wife and drinking a six pack of Fat Tire Ale. I forgot about this tasty treat. I hadn't had any Fat Tire since Lake Powell. It brought back memories of the Martinez brothers from Pueblo and how they brought a couple six packs with them when they arrived. Four white boys named Martinez working in the dining room that summer, what are the odds of that?