I need to find a campground where I can plug in, blog,
and post (if there’s internet). Nebraska is not a scary as the south but the
negative responses to my truck have been increasing, now far outnumbering the
Surly motorcycle drivers and riders raise their black
leather vested and tattooed arms, extending
middle fingers in unison, making me concerned the bike might tip over.
Suited-up business-looking men lean over the console to make sure I see their
disapproving scowls as they extend their middle finger. Truck drivers make loud
airbrake noises as they crawl up to my front door.
It’s almost like the beginning of the war against Iraq –
but no one has tried to run me off the road, or exposed their private parts.
So I’m going to be extra cautious choosing a campground. I
might wait until I get to Wyoming but the camp grounds there most likely do not
have either electricity nor wifi. My solar is not working up to par, worrying
me something major is wrong, as the sun cannot be hotter or more intense.
I spot a state park exit sign and quickly check the list
of amenities on the Nebraska map I picked up at the last rest stop. YES! This park
has both swimming, camping, and electricity, is right off the freeway, and is
on my beaten path home.
I off the highway and follow the signs less than 3 blocks
(or should I say gmo corn fields) down the country road and there it is. As I turn
in, I see the gate is open and no one is staffing the little entry booth. It is
very flat, very green, and very tree-less, not affording any privacy between
And it is loaded with huge rv’s and u.s.ofa. flags
flapping lazily in the slight breeze. As I drive around, I spot only white
people, gaping at me as they follow the progress of my truck. I discretely
glance behind me and see that the old pickup truck that has turned in behind me
is still there. I make sure I’m going 5 miles an hour and pretend I’m searching
for an empty camping spot. I’m hoping this is the ranger watching to make sure I
don’t take a reserved spot by mistake.
The road curves and I see a small beach in front of a
body of water that could be a lake or river – I can’t tell from my vantage
point – but several folks are swimming and playing on the beach. If Jasi was
with me, I’m sure he’d insist on getting out. I’m glad he’s not here because I’m
surely not getting a friendly vibe.
I decide to leave and continue down 80 until I find
something else. As I leave the camping area and stop at the road, I try not to
notice the old, beat up truck has continued to follow me. Shit. I can only tell
it’s a u.s.of a. truck, maybe chevy, and I see a blur of white in the front
Before I can cross onto the country highway, I hear
several loud horn honks. Bracing myself to deal with white male mid-western
rage, I’m so happy to see a womon jump out and wildly wave her arms, running
toward my truck shouting at me to stop, she wants to talk with me!
YEAH!!!! I’ve found a treasure in Nebraska! Or a treasure has found me!