Day two of the trip, day one on driving alone. Well, alone except for the TomTom my parents loaned me. For the uninitiated, a TomTom is a GPS navigation thingy. It tells you how to get where you're going and shouts out helpful(?) instructions to direct you. So after hours of driving straight, a vaguely British voice comes from nowhere - "IN 200 YARDS TURN LEFT!" If nothing else, it kept me awake.
So, the day began waking up in the fancy hotel with the little sister. After the ritual of suitcase stuffing and double-checking for items left behind, the hotel staff fetched the T-bird. I dropped little sister off at the art museum and got out of town. Unfortunately, I didn't think to get coffee before getting on the highway. Outer Chicago has a lovely outlet mall, if you're ever out that way.
Then I remembered I needed a pay-as-you-go phone for the road. It was around that time that I saw a Target. Another successful detour, and I was back behind the wheel.
One noteworthy moment from today was learning how to pop the hood of the car. I noticed that the oil light was blinking a few hours into the drive, reading "low." I wasn't terribly concerned, because some of the T-bird's quirks include a light informing me that the emergency brake is on (I don't think that's been true since the early '90s) and a gas tank that reads 125% full. I guess the car is an optimist.
When I pulled over in a place called Dixon, IL I had to read the gas receipt, because I had no idea where I was - the TomTom worries about those details. I filled up, bought a Subway sandwich from the least enthusiastic employee I have ever come across, and went outside to check the oil. I pulled the trunk-popper button and the hood jumped up a few inches. Promising. So I went to the front of the car and tried to lift it. No success. I crouched down, I wiggled my hand underneath, I begged it to open. I cursed my four-inch heels and then God answered my blasphemy with a young trucker. He took pity and opened the hood for me, then demonstrated so I could do it myself. Probably the most embarrassing moment of the trip thus far. I am happy to report that I subsequently checked the oil, located oil in the car kit my father provided, and emptied said oil into the "engine oil" opening. I did debate for a moment whether motor oil and engine oil are the same thing. My best guess is yes, because the car is still running.
The outskirts of Chicago seemed to go on forever. But when they were over, boy were they over - nothing but flat road and farmland for what felt like forever. At some point, a sign informed me that the People of Iowa welcomed me to their state. Sadly the welcome wagon was a series of rusty tractors and farm equipment covered in snow. To be fair, I did pass the birthplace of Ronald Reagan and the Herbert Hoover Presidential Museum. The highway even became the Ronald Reagan Memorial Highway.
My favorite part of Iowa, though, was the Iowa-80 Truck Stop. I had just stopped for gas half an hour before I saw the sign proclaiming it to be the largest truck stop not only in Iowa - oh, no. This is the largest truck stop in the WORLD. Definitely demanded a photograph, which I will post at the earliest opportunity.
It was filled with religious t-shirts, shot glasses, and many, many truckers. Also a section of porcelain collectibles, oddly enough. I refrained from purchasing any of those things, and instead phoned in to the family and took a coffee to go.
After the Iowa-80, I drove until I hit Des Moines, which is more than two hours! I had no idea states were so big. In Maine, two hours will get you from Portland to Boston!
I spent an inordinate amount of time in Des Moines searching for a mall where I could wander around for a while for a break. It took so much time I decided to just have a quick bite to eat instead. But not before I stood outside the car long enough to lose feeling in my hands - just five short minutes, my friends. This is one cold region. So I went to a restaurant called Old Chicago (oh, the irony) and had a turkey burger.
By the time I rolled in to Lincoln, my check-in kit was the last one on the desk. The hotel is all suites and mine is a "studio" which is the size of my old bachelor apartment in Halifax. It's cozy, it's off the road, the internet is included, and they tell me there's a hot breakfast in the morning. What more could I want, you ask? How about an exciting drive to Denver? And maybe a souvenir magnet from the Cornhusker State.
Interesting trivia learned today: Nebraska is the home of Arbor Day. Ronald Reagan was born in Illinois. For some reason the Presidential Library and Museum is also in Illinois. The Nebraska state slogan is The Good Life. And somewhere in Iowa, a person is living in a town called "Exira" - remember that for next time you play Scrabble with proper nouns.
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