Yes, I Am Capable of Eating Three of the Large Burritos

June 30, 2013

Day 7: Tryon, Nebraska to Lewellen, Nebraska

Up early to find a very quiet Sunday morning in Tryon. As expected, nothing was open, and I didn't see any people. The next town, Arthur, was about forty miles away, and I had already been informed nothing would be open there either. Maybe there would at least be a pop machine.

The forty miles to Arthur were scenic and quiet. The first few hours of riding each morning are always the best, and this was the best morning of this tour. Rolling grassy fields, sometimes with sand showing through, yellow flowers along the road. I suppose what I was seeing today was the southern edge of the Sandhills. Every so often I would pass a dirt road that led to a ranch, but the ranches themselves were often miles off the road, and were never visible. I speculated idly on what it would be like to live so far from a paved road, the paved road itself miles from a town of only a hundred or so people. These people can't just make a ten minute drive to WalMart when they run out of toilet paper.

Also occupying my thoughts today: Food. I fantasized about what I would request if I could magically have anything delivered to me. I spent quite a bit of time trying to decide if I could eat three Chipotle's burritos in one setting. Two would certainly be possible, even easy. I eventually came to the conclusion that yes, I am capable of eating three of the large burritos. Perhaps someday this cherished fantasy will become reality.

I arrived in Arthur to find, everything except the church closed for business. I had an initially negative impression of the town when a rat-faced man called out, "Is that your VEE-hicle? HawHawHaw." My initial anger faded when I realized he was mentally challenged. Arthur wasn't as attractive as Tryon, but it did have a working Pepsi machine and flush toilets in the park bathroom. I was perhaps inordinately excited about these two amenities.

Also nice: Some of the softest, best tasting water I have ever drank, out of the spigot in the town park. A man dressed for church walked up to me and confirmed this by telling me "This is the softest water you'll ever drink!" Later, as I rode more lonely miles, I hit upon the idea of bottling the super-soft water and selling it as "Arthur Water." OK - this idea is probably needs some marketing polish. But still: This was very, very soft water indeed.

After 26 miles I arrived at the outskirts of Lake McConaughy, a busy recreation area. I stopped at a busy restaurant and had a burger and fries. Perhaps all the "EAT BEEF!" signs I'd seen in Nebraska did have the desired effect, since a burger had been my go-to meal lately.

I wasn't sure where I was going to end the day, but I didn't feel like camping again, and Lewellen, miles up the road, appeared to have a Bed and Breakfast that appeared reasonably priced, especially after the owner told me it included a large breakfast, *and* they would do my laundry. The ride to Lewellen was not especially scenic, especially compared to the last few days. There was no shoulder for most of, and it was mile after mile of rollers for a while. Eventually the traffic thinned out, and there were fewer houses with old cars and boats in the yards, so the ride became pleasant enough.

Lewellen looked like an interesting little town, although everything except the the Gander Inn and a cafe were closed on Sunday. My first order of business upon reaching town was to chug two orange Fantas from a pop machine. I'm very much into Fanta these days, for some reason. Perhaps it's the "Natural Flavors" advertised on the cans. Sounds healthy.

The Gander Inn and its owners were very pleasant and helpful. Highly recommended if you're in the area hunting geese, which is apparently the thing to do there.

After a dinner in which I spurned beef and had the fried Walleye instead, I retired to my room and slept soundly.