Santa Fe east through a small slice of Oklahoma – miles and miles of nothingness with tumbleweed tumbling across the road – where does it end up? Stacked against a fence? Kansas – back to the land of weak coffee, stockyards, massive grain silos dominating a dot of civilization among the miles and miles of pancake flat acreage. Occasionally some fields with tall, graceful windmills; sometimes cattle grazing or circles made green with irrigation systems that radiate from a central point; nodding donkey pumps, pumping black gold. Pick up trucks, horse trailers, large farm machinery, men wearing overalls, plaid shirts and baseball caps – these are all things I remember from our years in Kansas. There are some new landmarks, that weren’t evident in the early ’80’s – Mexican restaurants, even in the smallest of towns; I assume there has been a migration of workers and their families to these mid-west farmlands.
Onward – eastward on the seemingly endless I70. Boring to us humans, but very comfortable with its lack of twists and turns and bumps for our backseat passenger!