One thing you should know about the Disenchanted Family is that we are nuts about national parks. Unfortunately, we don’t always like the same types of parks. The Coach – a military history buff – is all about civil war battlefields, revolutionary war battlefields, Indian war battlefields, battlefields, battlefields, battlefields. Me? I’m more into the natural parks where the critters roam free and you can hike around in relative quiet, thinking thoughts about life, landscapes, and human interaction with Gaea. Yet, over the last 19 years (yes, I did get married young), we have maintained a decent enough balance between our individual vacation wants and desires: a battlefield here, a hike there, a hotel here, a Kamping Kabin there. Restaurants here, s’mores there. Campfires and computers. Books and iPods. For the most part, it works. With the exception of the Great Cowboy Museum Fight of 1996, we’ve had relatively peaceful trips.
The other thing you should know about the Disenchanted Family is that we tend to cram as much as humanly possible into a vacation. [1] We will drive hours out of the way just to see something. For example, we drove all the way to Mitchell to see the Corn Palace when we went to my cousin’s wedding in Brookings about 12 years ago. So, it should come as no surprise to find out that we hit three national park sites and crossed over four national historic trails in our drive from Ogallala, Nebraska, to Sheridan, Wyoming. That’s 496 miles for those of you who are keeping track! And yes, my ass felt like it was being molded into the shape of a Mustang seat.
Destination 1: Elk Penis, a.k.a. Chimney Rock
After a free breakfast that included bacon fried noodles (weird!), we loaded back into Sally and set off down a scenic route (as designated in our AAA Trip Tik) through Nebraska. I’ll admit that I dozed a bit along the way; there is something quite soporific when flat land and warm sun combine with the sound of tires whizzing down a state highway. [2] I woke up enough to make The Coach stop at a few historic markers along the way. That’s how we ended up taking a few pictures of the Jail and Courthouse rocks. While not as famous as Chimney Rock, these two formations were fairly significant in pioneer history. As the wagon trains made their way along the south bank of the North Platte River, these formations were some of the first landmarks seen by the homesteaders. And even though the Mormon Trail ran along the north side of the river, they too saw these rocks as a signal that the long haul across the prairie would soon give way to a more mountainous terrain.
To entertain ourselves on the way to Chimney Rock, The Coach and I counted the trains traveling east, loaded down with coal. It didn’t take long before we lost count, but I can say – without equovication or exaggeration – that I have never seen so many trains in such a short expanse of time. I guess this is due to the popularity of trains in the wide open spaces of the west … or our nation’s terrible problem with energy production.
We finally made it to Chimney Rock where we watched a short movie and learned that the Native Americans actually called this place “elk penis.” Yes, the rock really is more phallic than chimney-like in nature (if you want my opinion). It’s amazing that we learned anything at all, given the fact that this horrible little boy was running in and out of the theater, squawking loudly. [3] Seriously, don’t they make leashes for kids? I swear that my cousin use them on his twin boys when they were little. {Now, before you get all snarky at me for panning the kid, I want to point out that I am not a curmudgeon. I like kids and most of the kids we saw on this trip were really well behaved. This little shit, however, needed a time out or a spanking or — at the very least — less caffeine and no sugar!}
Since there’s really not much else to do at Chimney Rock besides taking pictures and avoiding rattlesnakes, we got back in the car after about 45 minutes and headed for the next destination on our trip: Scotts Bluff.
Destination 2: Scotts Bluff National Monument
It’s really not that far from Chimney Rock to Scotts Bluff, maybe 20 minutes or so. And, unlike our experience at White Sands last Christmas, there wasn’t a line at the gate to get in. [4] Since the visitors’ center looked a little full, we decided to drive to the top of the bluff so we could look down into the valley. For the record, I can now say that I have driven on the oldest existing concrete road in the State of Nebraska. There are some pretty cool tunnels on that road as well – real old school stuff that reminded me of CCC-era work.
At the top, we ran into a group of people from our current Midwestern State. We struck up a conversation, then headed out to take some pictures while the other folks were pulling their bikes off their car. I’m not quite sure where they were headed on the bikes because we never did see them again. We did, however, see that horrible family with the Bart Simpson on Steroids child when we returned to the visitors’ center. Needless to say, we didn’t spend much time in the center — just enough to watch the video, buy some postcards, and learn that we could actually walk on the Oregon Trail if we went out towards the model wagons.
I suppose it’s pretty geeky to say this, but I thought it was pretty damned cool to be standing on the real, honest-to-god Oregon Trail. {LOL}
And here’s one of the big secrets for hitting a bunch of national parks in one day: we carry a cooler in the car. While I was using the facilities, The Coach was slapping together turkey and salami sandwiches, grabbing sodas out of the cooler, and finding raisins and Lorna Doone cookies in the sack of groceries. We chowed down in the car as we made our way over the border into Wyoming.
Destination 3: Fort Laramie National Historic Site
Okay, I’ll admit it. When we pulled in to Fort Laramie, I had a huge brain fart. My first thought was: There’s a university here? Then I realized that, duh, the University of Wyoming is in Laramie, not Fort Laramie. {Sorry CQ and TQE!}
Moving on … So, The Coach and I got to the historic site, flashed our parks pass, and made our way to the parking lot. Got out, walked up to the marker that was a memorial to everything – including a Pony Express stop – and made our way down to the visitors’ center to watch the film and sit in the air conditioning. Then, as I was looking through the books and postcards in the little store, The Coach disappeared.
Dr. Disenchanted taps her foot, impatiently.
I bought a few things, made my way outside and sat under a tree, looking in the direction of the photo above. A ranger tour started. The wind shifted. Still no Coach. Eventually, I gave up and called him on his cell phone. He was in the john! I don’t know if he fell asleep or had some kind of stomach thing going for him — and I don’t really want to know! When he finally emerged from the bowels of the Visitors’ Center (ha! a punny!), we headed up to the Enlisted Men’s Bar for a sarsaparilla. By this time, my camera had gone through its third set of batteries for the day (Note to self: Do not buy regular Energizer batteries again!) so I had to go back to the car for more while The Coach poked around the buildings. I caught up to him in Old Bedlam where he was talking to a curator about the fort. Me? I just looked around, marveling at the smallness of the rooms and the construction of the walls — and making (incorrect) references to Dances with Wolves.
Long Drive Ahead …
Our original plan called for us to drive all the way to Billings, Montana, but that obviously didn’t happen. We made it to Casper before we stopped for dinner at a local restaurant conveniently called Casper’s. The Coach had chicken fried steak. I had a burrito covered in green chili. The people behind us had nothing because they were in a snit about slow service and left. I don’t know what crawled up their asses and died, because our waiter was pretty darned attentive. Hell, he even found The Coach’s hat in the booth before we got out the door! Of course, he did give me flashbacks to Louisiana because he kept calling me ma’am everytime he said something to me.
So, after a quick stop for ice cream at the DQ next door (the only chain restaurant we ate on this trip until we stopped at a Culver’s somewhere along I-90 on the way home), we aimed Sally towards Montana … and ended up stopping at the Hampton Inn in Sheridan, just shy of the border.
As for those four trails? We crossed paths with the Oregon, California, Mormon Pioneer, and Pony Express National Historic Trails as we drove through Nebraska and Wyoming. Phew. Talk about a lot of traveling in one day, eh?
Next Entry: Custer really was a dumb ass, wasn’t he?
Notes:
- Even when we went to Florida where we stayed in one place for most of the trip, we still managed to see a zillion things.
- Don’t worry – The Coach had already seized control of the Mustang, so I spent the remainder of this trip relegated to the passenger’s seat.
- We ran into this same family at Scotts Bluff and the kids was still acting insane. I was incredibly happy when I heard that they were going to the Agate Fossil Beds as opposed to Fort Laramie!
- Well, there wasn’t a line until we arrived and decided to buy an annual parks pass. {LOL}
[...] For the record, The Coach and I didn’t think any of the kids were that bad, especially after experiencing that little brat at Chimney Rock. [...]