After yesterday's quasi-religious pilgrimmage to the Motorcycle Mecca of Sturgis, today Alliance, NE offered its own spiritual awakening. What better way to start the morning than by taking in Alliance's version of Druid enlightenment - a replica of Stonehenge. Well, this replica is a copy of the original only in form not in execution. Rather, it's a copy made from used cars - Carhenge! Some people clearly have too much time and scrap metal on their hands (like Clif). Nonetheless, I did feel a twinge of spirituality and a sudden desire to face east towards Detroit.

You have to wonder if these small towns have these "attractions" just to pump up tourism. I got there at 7:30am and by the time I left two other cars had arrived. It might also help to keep some of those kids from leaving the small town for the big city lights, right? Next I'll be lured in to seeing the world's largest ball of string or some such.

Filled with the rapture of Carhenge, I headed on down Nebraska Rt. 2 which runs diagonally across the state. The AAA map and tour book highlighted this as a scenic route. It might be scenic for Nebraska but it would hardly rate an honorable mention in most other states. It is the winter home of a large flock of sandhill cranes so I guess that's something to see in April/May. The road did have more hills than I expected to see in Nebraska and it was picturesque for about 75% of the drive.

It also ran next to a main line of the BNSF railroad. There were trains everywhere, more in a couple hours than I had seen in total on the trip. Mostly long, long coal trains but also several freights One even had two aircraft bodies on flat cars. They were going in both directions and coming very frequently. I'm sure I saw 2,000 or more full and empty coal cars. It was a scene that my brother-in-law, Ed, would have appreciated.

Also on the road were tons of bikers, singly and in groups of up to ten. They seemed surprised to see someone going away from Sturgis. I guess they had me figured for a motorcycle atheist in spite of my two days of enlightenment.

Once I got off Rt 2 in Grand Island, things got fairly boring. The road was straight and the hills leveled out. The hundreds of miles of corn fields stopped abruptly at the Kansas border. Maybe they aren't allowed to grow corn in Kansas. If I would have started to nod off, the periodic smell of feedlot breezes wafting across the road would have snapped me awake. As jolting as having someone put smelling salts under your nose. I don't know how people live in some of these towns with feedlots close at hand.

Since it was a cloudy and unseasonably cool day (record lows in parts of the region), I decided to get as far as I could. Sort of making hay while the sun wasn't shining. I didn't see many more bikers until I checked in at the hotel. Couple of Harley guys from FL are staying here. They don't seem to have much idea of what route they will take or exactly when they will get to Sturgis. I myself passed the 8,000 mile mark today. I have slightly more than 600 miles left.

Had one of the worst "authentic Mexican" dinners ever. Food was so bland that even Old El Paso would be embarrassed. There did seem to be Hispanics running the place so they must have dumbed down the spices for the Kansas palate. The waitress heard my story about the trip and asked me if they spoke English in Alaska! You can't make this kind of stuff up.