Cheyenne to Omaha
After our quiet stay in Cheyenne, we set off for Omaha, Nebraska along the I-80. The snow topped mountains of Wyoming disappear and open into a sea of pale green grass in all directions as far as we could see. This grass sea lasted for our entire seven hour drive to Omaha.
The Great Plains, beautiful but boring, did not provide diverse photo opportunities. I took some selfies, but Colt was largely uncooperative.
The stretch of I-80 through Nebraska is the most treacherous portion of our drive thus far. Strong crosswinds blow furiously against the car, and Coulton death grips the steering wheel to keep us and all our earthly possessions from toppling over into one of the many semi trucks adjacent to us. When we step out to rest for a moment, our hair whips around in the wind.
At last we arrive in Omaha, and are thrilled to find our expectations exceeded ten fold. We check into our Art Deco style hotel, built in the 1930s, and unpack our things.
We find that Omaha is a city rich in character and history while we walk through the red cobble stone streets of the Old Market district in search of food and drink.
By chance, we turn into a nondescript alley and descend into a lush passageway that snakes through the heart of the marketplace.
We grab a delicious dinner at M's Cafe, check out a record store, and sip on some drinks in an exceedingly hipster (but fantastic) bar called Berry and Rye. The vibe is friendly and laid back. We had expected little to nothing from Nebraska, but we're amazed at how much culture and vibrancy we experiencd in Omaha.
Omaha is right on the eastern edge of Nebraska, and the next morning, we cross over the river and find ourselves in Iowa, continuing onward on our road trip. We are happily surprised by Omaha, and are even more excited for the next stop on our trip: The Windy City.