It was 1:00 a.m. last night when I signed off. Somehow, my snoring didn’t make an impact; I will try harder tonight. The alarm rings before sunrise at 5:45, and just 45 minutes later, we are underway. It feels crazy that we are supposed to drive from Texas all the way to Minnesota today, but that’s our goal. I’m tired as I pull out of the parking lot; Mom is sleeping 5 minutes later.
We’re on Highway 54 through Texhoma, Oklahoma, while Mom sleeps quietly on my right. This is a great time of day as she’s not talking about food.
Mom sleeps for another hour and a half, only waking briefly as we cross the Oklahoma Stateline.
Mom opens an eye as we enter Kansas. This time, she stays awake as she’s hungry and wants breakfast. What kind of weird reality have I volunteered myself for? Driving through Liberal, Kansas, still on the 54, which is called Pancake Blvd here. As we drive through town, we see signs for Dorothy’s House and the Land of Oz, and just across the street is a Pancake House. Mom says, perfect. The Swedish pancakes are a kind of Kansanian interpretation but are still yummy. We leave, agreeing we could both go for a couple more of those lace-like pancakes.
Rolling hills, corn, and grasses punctuated by grain elevators are the major sights along our road. We have been driving northeast until reaching Pratt where we curve more northerly in order to catch the 135. Small towns, grain elevators, and rising humidity are drawing us toward Nebraska. Still in Kansas and approaching Salina, Caroline over in Arizona recommends we stop for lunch today at a BBQ in town. We nearly walked out after Mom saw the buffet appearance of the place, but she finally agreed to try it as Caroline’s recommendations haven’t failed me yet. We don’t regret our meal, another winner.
In Nebraska, 90 minutes later, the grain silos are replaced with corn silos. Wind pushes the humidity around, but it’s still just as hot and maybe more humid. There appear to be more trees in Nebraska than in Kansas, but it’s difficult to be certain. Mom is astonished that the land is not flatter than it is, pleasantly surprised even. Not surprising is the mosquito population. I will only afford these pests this quick bitter grumble.
Needing to drive more than 800 miles today, we have no time to stop for the sights; we pass barns, small towns, and dead raccoons by the dozen.
We are making good time on this bolt across half of America. As we arrive at the South Dakota Stateline, we are already more than 1,300 miles away from Phoenix, which we left just yesterday.
We are nearing sunset as we turn east to dip into a corner of Iowa. Not only had Mom not visited Kansas, Nebraska, South Dakota, or Minnesota but she had never stepped foot in Iowa. She now has bragging rights of having added four states she’d never visited today. Passing yet more farms and cornfields, I witnessed for the first time in my life one of the most enchanting sights I have yet seen: fireflies. Fireflies appear as fleeting glimmers of light rising off of the earth as though elves were popping in and out of the physical realm from the spiritual world. They wisp along the edge of the corn, are more abundant near tall grass, and when seen with a backdrop of trees, they look like miniature fireworks.
A quick left and now northbound, the car brings us to Luverne, Minnesota, and the fifth new state for my mother on this trip. This is our stop for the evening. A nice little hotel called the Cozy Rest costs us $46 for the evening, and conveniently, there is a Smoky Bears Pizza place next door that serves up a decent meal. Thanks for feeding us.
It’s almost 11:15 p.m., and I’m about to quit taking these notes. The clock is set for 6:15. Tomorrow; we have a much shorter drive scheduled, which should allow for some serious experiences besides suffering the exhaustion I fought most of the day as we drove through seven states, likely a personal record.