In all my jaunts along the various blue highways criss-crossing the map, it never ceases to amaze me how varied this country is. Just over the past week I’ve gone from coastal New England, through the green hills of the Berkshires, into lighthouses on the Great Lakes, through the rust belt of South Bend and Chicago, between the manicured fields of Iowa farms, and under the leaden skies of the Great Plains.

In all honesty, there hasn’t been a single segment that I haven’t enjoyed, that I haven’t experienced beauty, that I haven’t met wonderful people. And yet, today’s segment was characterized by lots of long, straight stretches at freeway speeds across the plains of Nebraska. Faithful reader Brian W. had encouraged me to “enjoy the unique look and solitude” of western Nebraska. And I did. The sheer scale of its open space forces one to relax, and the solitude is conducive to contemplation.

US 20 is the only major east-west route in the northern half of Nebraska. (Interstate 80 runs along the lowest third, through Lincoln and Omaha. For this reason, there has historically been a good amount of services along US 20. I encountered a surprising number of old garages and gas stations that have been preserved or restored to their vintage look. I peeked in the garages and saw walls lined with fan belts, racks of oil, piles of tires, and other evidence that these places still do business.

But what I appreciate more than the restored buildings are the historic roadside attractions that have just kept going, year after year, with just enough maintenance to stay in the game. That seems to be more the rule out in this part of the country. I’m sure part of the reason is that the local economy can’t support the wholesale replacement of infrastructure unless there’s a good reason. And there’s not enough population to entice national chain stores to locate their businesses here. The result is a “time warp” situation in many of these towns. Here are a few examples:

In the town of Lusk, Wyoming (pop: 1,500) a redwood water tower still stands next to the railroad tracks. It dates to 1886, and used to provide water to the steam locomotives. They moved it once, in 1919, in line with changes in the railroad. The Tower is now something of an icon for the town, but it’s authentic and as you can see in the photo, the whole scene could be from a century ago.

The Lusk Light and Power Plant also looks to be a historical relic, but I couldn’t find any information on it

The Plains theater in Rushville, Nebraska (pop: 784) dates back to 1914. It’s gone through a number of different iterations, including a movie theater and a church. Today it is a live theater venue.

But let’s get back to US 20 itself. For the first 250 miles of today’s drive, the Cowboy Trail (that I mentioned in yesterday’s blog) runs alongside the highway. You’ll recall that the Cowboy Trail used to be a railroad line that’s been replaced with a hiking/biking path. I was surprised that I didn’t see a single person on the trail, but it’s still pretty new and maybe word hasn’t gotten around. But it’s interesting to see how all the old railroad bridges have been replaced with pedestrian bridges.

The reassuring monotony of the plains and the cloudy sky, with the Cowboy Trail close by at my right, had something of a lulling effect that required periodic infusions of coffee. But suddenly, in the mid-afternoon, I spotted some sharp buttes rising from the plains. These were most welcome after The Unbearable Flatness of Being that characterized most of the day’s drive.

I stopped at the nearby town of Crawford, Nebraska (pop: 1,000) to see if I could learn more about the buttes. My first stop was to get a refreshing beverage from a young entrepreneur named Case.

Then, in the center of town, I found the local tourist bureau/museum. The door was open wide, and as I entered I was greeted by a docent named Cathy. She didn’t have a lot to say about the buttes, but she did encourage me to visit Fort Robinson, just a couple of miles up the road. Her father had been stationed there once upon a time, and a couple of family heirlooms are in the lodge.

Fort Robinson has been around since the 1870s, playing a major role in the so-called Indian Wars, as well as the First and Second World Wars. The “Buffalo Soldiers” were stationed here, horses and mules were bred here, military canines were trained here, and it even served as a POW camp for German prisoners. The army decommissioned the fort in 1947, and it was converted into a state park in 1956.

By now it should be pretty obvious that most of the towns along this stretch of Route 20 are quite small and spaced far apart. It’s certainly a big change from California, where I come from. The population density in California is 254 people per square mile. In Nebraska it is one tenth of that, at 25 people per square mile. In Wyoming it’s 6 people per square mile. You have to wonder what kind of impact these differences have on a person’s sense of self, sense of society, sense of independence.

The smallest town that I passed today was Lost Springs, Wyoming. For some reason that I can’t fathom, they really leaned into their smallness when they commemorated the country’s bicentennial in 1976. At that time they erected this marker (which to me looks like a tombstone) that declares they are the “smallest bicentennial town.” According to the US Bicentennial Commission, in 1976 Lost Springs –with a population of 7–was the smallest incorporated town in the entire country.

They’re even smaller now:

BRIDGE CORNER

Near the town of Valentine, NE (pop: 2,600) a roadside sign directed me to a “historical bridge.”

A marker explained that this is the Bryan Bridge, which is the country’s only “arched cantilever truss bridge connected by a single pin.” Whatever that means. It was also designated “the most beautiful steel bridge of 1932 in class C,” which sounds like it might be a narrow category, but what do I know?

To test the “most beautiful” claim, I scrambled down the embankment and risked life and limb and tick bites to take the below photo from the bank of the Niobrara River.

BREW OF THE DAY

There aren’t many brew pubs along this stretch of US 20. But I did find a place called “Cowboy State Brewing Company” in Glenrock, Wyo (pop: 2,400). Long-time reader Peter D. had recommended the town to me, as it was his father’s and his grandmother’s home town.

Now, Cowboy State is not your typical California-style brew pub. It’s a bar that dates back to the mid-1970s, with dim lighting, pool tables, and a bar stocked with gin and vodka. The place reeks of cigarette smoke, which might be because Nebraska allows smoking in bars, or maybe because 50 years of smoke can’t be eradicated from the pores of the room.

Now if you think this doesn’t sound like my kind of brew pub, you’re right. I asked the bartender, Billie, if this was really a place where they brewed their own beer. She said yes, but then admitted that they “had to let the brewer go,” and thus they aren’t making beer right now. Nevertheless, she still had some of the Cowboy Cream Ale that they had made for the State Fair last year. Did I want to try it? Now, I’m not sure what the shelf life is for beer, but I suspect it’s somewhat less than a year. Nevertheless, I told her to pour me one–I had a blog to write!

Before I get to the beer, let me just say that Billie is one of those people who make you feel welcome at a bar. She came here from Louisiana just about a year ago, and took over as the manager. She says she puts in about 70 hours a week, but she’s still all smiles and energy.

However, the beer wasn’t very good. Maybe it’s because it was old. Maybe it’s because it’s a weird recipe. Maybe it’s because it’s just not my style. But to me it tasted like Budweiser–that kind of skunky, watery, feed-grainy, metallic taste that mystifyingly is popular with 32 percent of American beer drinkers. I can’t in good conscience give it any stars. But I do need to acknowledge that it was popular at the Nebraska State Fair and is a favorite with the locals. So maybe it’s just me.

I should point out, though, that the beer was only $2 (which is just 50 cents more than Case’s lemonade). And Billie gave me a branded beer cozy!