Encouraging developments my "Faith in Humanity".

Being cynical, crusty and suspicious is my defalt setting; I stoically expect the worse and work up from there. So when the connection from the tailpipe to the muffler fractured on the Element, I figured a lost day spent in a muffler shop or dealership and around a $300 bill. I "McGivered" the tailpipe up with a hanger, but knew in the dark recesses of my mind, that it would fall off the the most inopportune time. While reviewing the situation under my car, a guy from the Culligan Water Softener store I was parked in front of came out and offered his assistance. What we came up with was for me following him to a business that welded and repaired farm equipment on the outskirts of McCook, Nebraska, the town I was in. An hour and $35 later I was back on the road, my exhaust system spot welded together. What really got fixed was my "faith in humanity". You can't put a price on that. Made my breakfast at the Fresh Seven Coffee in St. Francis, Kansas and the endless fields of sunflowers in eastern Colorado that much more enjoyable.

Some mostly good news for road warriors.

Unlike my last journey across America's bread basket, there is now an abundance of small, family owned craft breweries sprinkled throughout the hinterlands. That's the good news. The not so good news is that the plague has severely restricted their access and in some cases precipitated their demise. My heart was lifted when I found one open near the end of the day's travels. The "Lost Way Brewery" in Holdrege Nebraska seemed to be a fitting destination. The owners were authentic, engaging, and had come from the Bay City area of Michigan. They offered to open the brewery for me "any time of the day I was passing through" which I hope to take advantage of someday. For now, a couple of cold ones and some outstanding B-B-Q from the food truck parked outside. Cheers.

Ottumwa Iowa. A great place to stop... but not for too long.

As Elizabeth will tell you, Ottumwa Iowa is the perfect "one day's distance" from our home in Berkley, a suburb north of Detroit. The big old downtown hotel has been our resting place for 4 or 5 times during our road trips across the middle of America.

But on this trip I would sleep in the Element at a city owned RV park in the middle of Ottumwa, on the banks of the Des Moines River, presumably with fellow travelers. I discovered that "downtown RV park" is code for "people living permanently in temporary housing".

1st stop - Galesburg Illinois. The birthplace of Carl Sandburg.

Which, of course, I had no idea. Swedish-American poet, biographer, journalist, and editor. He won three Pulitzer Prizes: two for his poetry and one for his biography of Abraham Lincoln. I enjoyed his favorite dish at a little bar in downtown Galesburg. Flatbread pizza with cream cheese, capers, tomatoes, onions and salmon.

A very small pet peeve.

Freeway exits that communicate fuel/dining/lodging options are by their very nature, indespenable. What I don't get is why there are no signs at the top or bottom of the ramp. If you guess wrong, which is my default setting, you're probably worse off. It's one of the reasons I prefer the old interstate highways.

Being home-bound had finally reached its limits.

In many ways Covid-19 had changed our world. Limited access, limited options, limited plans. Some things hadn't changed; America's sweeping beauty, my wanderlust, and my wife's anticipation of having our domicile to herself. Going on a road trip became like a misquito bite that wanted to be itched. I bought a 2007 Honda element, fitted it with a sleeping platform with storage space and headed out to see Elizabeth in Los Angeles, where she lives.