Happy Trails to Wyoming!
Into the land of the Corn Dog!
Diane just has to learn to be cold for ten to twenty minutes. It happens too often. She bundles up for the morning ride—long pants over her biking shorts--two jerseys—ear/headband. Within the first twenty minutes she is shedding the over layers like crazy. Sometimes all at the first stop, other times in stages. Tonight she committed to Rob: She will cowboy up (even though she has left Wyoming), and tough out the morning coolness.
In any event, it was a good ride today, and we expect another one tomorrow, even though we will be biking a full eighty, to Oshkosh, NE. We are now in the land of corn. Irrigated corn. When we took this route in 1982, we were swarmed with mosquitoes, due to so much standing water in the ditches. There is still standing water, but we weren’t bothered by any bugs. Must be a summertime thing. No matter why, we are glad.
The joy of Nebraska is there is a small town at least every 15 miles. This is an artifact of the steam engine trains which required frequent water stops. And the state is so flat you can often see the water tower of the next town as you leave the last. Diane powers into Scottsbluff. 
Rob would have been faster but his cattle-truck-o-phobia kicked in as he entered the state in which he suffered his tragic confrontation with a moma cow riding in just such a rig in 1982. (For those who don't know this story you can find it on Wikepidia under rare bovine induced fears.)
We would have also make it quicker into Scottsbluff but while we were cruising along at 18 mph, the whole AGO Gang started hollering Stop! Stop! Stop!
Bye from the corner of McKenna and Nebraska.
Diane and Rob
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