Rocking on

I don’t know how many miles I did today because I forgot to reset my trip computer. Let’s just call the last two days an average of about 250 miles each – a little below my target. On the other hand, I am comfortably exceeding my target average speed of 50mph. I forget to reset the trip this morning because I was a little flustered. It took almost an hour to liberate Speranza from her overnight place of safety. The receptionist in my hotel didn’t know how the barn door worked and neither did I. Many phone calls later the owner turned up and freed us.

I remain grateful to him for providing shelter. The feared hail storm did not materialise, but the risk was real. I have seen disturbing examples on my travels of what the hail in these parts can do to carrosserie, as well as having noted just how many “hail damage repair” body shops there are along the roads I travel. I have spent altogether too much time picturing the effect on carbon fibre.

I set off a bit later than planned, therefore, initially targetting Sidney in Nebraska. Nebraska has the best tourism website of any state I have visited so far. Most presume a level of knowledge that I certainly don’t have; the worst make up silly new names for their regions and require you to use them to navigate the site. Nebraska, sensibly, has a map. I clicked on it to show the area I was passing through (known as the panhandle) and it presented me with all my options.

I visited the Chimney Rock National Historic Site and took some pictures. I would have liked to venture closer to the landmark itself, but the rattlesnake warning signs deterred me. I am as fond of the natural world as the next man, but not when it slithers and secretes venom. Give me an alligator any day, as long as I have a knife and some prior training with my Louisiana guide to the swamps.

Nebraskans are fond of Chimney Rock, apparently, and it sometimes stands as an emblem for the state. I was more interested in its context. This was beginning to look satisfyingly like the backdrop to a Western.

As, even more so, did Scotts Bluff, another distinctive rocky outcrop used by native Americans and, later, settlers for navigation. I was preparing myself for another earnest photo session when the park ranger remarked it was possible to drive to the top, adding that the 1.6 mile track features “the only road tunnels in Nebraska”. Colour me sold. There is nothing nicer than the sound of “tunnelling”, in the automotive sense; dropping a couple of gears while driving through a hole in a mountain in order to savour the sound of a beautiful engine. Nebraska’s engineers might not have known it, but I had arrived with the very machine they had been designing for.

It was a short and twisty drive. Though the speed limit was low, it was a joy to have bends to drive around. No wonder American racing fans think NASCAR ovals are challenging. Most American roads -at least this side of the Mississippi – are drawn onto the landscape with long rulers, and set at right angles to each other with set squares. The chance to move the steering wheel twice or more a minute was delightful. The tunnels were short but enjoyable and at the top I was able to wipe the silly smile off my face and look suitably serious about the beauties of nature.

From there, I drove about fifty miles to my rest stop for the night; Alliance, Nebraska. Another tiny little town laid out with lavish spaces between the unimposing buildings as if it lived in hope of one day being Chicago. That’s what cheap land does to urban design, apparently. It had the virtue, after a long day in the saddle, of providing a long walk across two enormous empty parking lots and a wide highway (and back) to get something to eat.

I have messed up my planning a bit for this stage. I am now just far enough from Mount Rushmore to be unable to visit it and move on, but too close to have a long run towards it. I shall figure this out in the morning. For now, full of strip mall Eye-talian food served – as usual – more attentively than if it were gourmet fare, I am exhausted and ready for my bed.