Why go to Gothenburg, Nebraska, just a few miles from the geographical center of the 48 contiguous United States? Answer: It was a route we could take on the way home (a little south of the route we took last year). And it was where my old friend, Dale, lives as a third generation farmer with his wife, Myra. And I had never been there before.
Dale and I went to Europe/North Africa/Israel for 8 months in 1972/3 with our mutual friend, Tim, all of us being wet behind the ears teenage grads of 2 years at Trinity Western College (now University). It was one of my very first grand adventures, and in some ways the one to compare all others with (certainly it was the longest). We have kept in touch over the years and this was the one chance to get together on his turf, literally (he and his brother have responsibility for 1800 acres of corn and soy beans).
This day started out, and ended, remarkable; it was the first one for a very long time it dawned sunny and inviting (instead of cloudy and threatening). We checked our tire pressure and oil levels, and set off West on Interstate 80 shortly after 7 AM. We arrived at Gothenburg (250 miles or 400 km) at noon, and shared lunch with Dale at a local Mexican restaurant. We dropped our stuff off at the farm, quickly washed our bug-spattered, dust-covered motorcycles, and set off in Dale's pickup to explore a little of what it meant to be a farmer in this area of the world. We learned about center pivot sprinklers systems (the ones that create circles of crops), and the fact that farming means you have to know an awful lot about an awful lot (everything from being a mechanic, soil scientist, business person, heavy equipment operator -not to mention be a very hard worker).
When the pickup proved to be limited in its ability to show us the true nature of the terrain, Dale offered to take us up in his plane. This offered a perspective that we had not anticipated. While it may look flat from an earthbound perspective, there are an extraordinary number of hills, ravines, creeks, lakes/reservoirs, and rivers. George also caught a look at the North Platte Railway Yard, which is the largest of its kind (called a "hump yard") in the world (you may have to talk to George about what exactly that means). (some additional picttres will follow).
Returning to Earth, and the farm, we enjoyed a scrumptious dinner put together by Myra, after working a full day as a departmental director of nursing at the local hospital. Our hostess went all out, and at the same time helped us to feel completely at home (our wash has now been done).
Today has been the perfect example of why this trip has been so great. A series of serendipitous events that can only be described as a great adventure.