Mom wanted to take us to dinner at a special steak house in Omaha, but we were chasing sunlight, and wouldn't reach Nebraska in time. We stopped in Sioux City and had dinner at Eldin's. This local restaurant among a sea of familiar chain restaurants was perfect after a long day on the road.
Holland got a chicken-fried steak and ate every bite, save the two she gave me. It was absolutely perfect; I was reminded of my southern roots. It was like the scene in Ratatouille when the censorious critic is immediately transported back to his childhood by a single bite of the mouse's simple creation.
We mounted up and drove to the Omaha area. Mom needed to be at Epply Airfield at 9:00am the next morning for her flight. We boon-docked in Council Bluffs, IA, across the Missouri River from Omaha.
This appealed to the historian in me. Council Bluffs served as a final departure point for most of the pioneers heading west from 1840-1870. The Mormon Trail started here. The hand cart we saw in the Virgin River Valley in Utah? Probably bought and assembled right here in Council Bluffs.
I couldn't find a quiet place nearby, so I settled for the front of a very busy TA Travel Center truck stop. The generator remained on all night, providing power for the A/C and a constant din to mitigate the truck refueling activity. It was easily the worst camping spot of the entire trip, but it was 11:00 pm and I was exhausted. At least it was safe; the remainder of Council Bluffs didn't engender that feeling.
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