Besides a Saturday afternoon live concert, old photos displayed how the trails west (which we follow on I-80, parallel to the Union Pacific Railroad, parallel to the Platte River) went across the rivers....
But it is also the way that a stop causes a little burst in the car bubble, the cocoon created by being in an automobile for hours on end, even with an amusing audio book on CDs, the tight constraints of seat, car door, dashboard dictating movement. So you step out of the cocoon into a world....college students arriving at a motel with huge bundles on their backs going to a tuba and euphonium workshop at the local university. Or, as in Iowa City, hitting prom night at the restaurant down the hill. Girls looking beautiful; guys looking awkward. Or, sometimes, at a quick stop, a place with really good ice cream. Or trying to figure out why the family at the next table looks so sad.
It's there...life on the sidestreams of the interstate. But, then, we are just passing through...another 1200 miles to go before we hit the shores of the Rhode Island bay where we are headed.
Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Location:iowa city
