SF 2 NYC

It is such a gorgeous day in Nebraska. We left Laramie, WY, this morning and I drove through the eastern part of the least populated state, through western Nebraska, and until we stopped for gas and lunch in Ogallala. This is the part I was most excited about when we left San Francisco: Nebraska. Mountains I could imagine, the rough land of Wyoming I’d experienced a few years ago in college on a road trip from Chicago, but nothing intrigues me more than the miles and miles of prairie and farms that stretch through the lower midwest. Maybe I read too much Willa Cather and Laura Ingalls Wilder as a girl, or maybe I’m such a creature of the coasts than anything this land-locked just seems like a dream. We’re racing along such a stretch of prairie right now. I can see for miles - farm houses and power lines dot the horizon while horses and cows flirt a little too dangerously with the curb of the interstate. Tumbleweed occasionally crosses our path. It’s hot, dry, and the sky is huge and the perfect shade of blue. The only company we have on the road right now is a truck or two, though we did just spot the first Prius since Sacramento. In Ogallala, we ate lunch at a place called Runza. Though it was most likely the highest calorie item I’ll eat on this trip (five point five weeks till the wedding!), I must say it was worth it, even though I did only eat half and I’ll be forced to have carrot sticks for dinner. I got the original Runza sandwich, a fresh bread pocket stuffed with a pierogi-like filling of ground beef, cabbage, and onions. It was delicious, a cut above most fast food (In n Out notwithstanding, of course). We’re both full of yumminess, and I think Evan might have had his fill of country charm as well. The music in Runza was, to put it lightly, not his cup of tea. Though we’re listening to the radio now and it’s not so bad. (I happen to like country music, anyway.)