We forgot about Nebraska. Reveling in our progress on our first day we woke up and pushed hard again. We were expecting a few hours of driving, being in Boulder before sundown. Instead we were faced with an endless golden expanse, moving ever slowly towards the end of the grey blanket that hung above us. On the horizon remained that stretch of blue sky always so far away. We have almost heard every Dirtbag Diary now, sometimes I will switch it over to music but big bad Bill soon asks to hear ' another one of those podcast stories'. I like to think its not because he dislikes my music but moreover because he wants to know more about this lifestyle. The one which he is now tasting with me. The one he tasted on the west coast trail. It baffles him that some people don't grow out of it. It baffles him that some people trust thier love of art and the outdoors and try to make a humble living from it. I think with the help of the Diaries it worries him less that I don't like finance and medicine. Conversations about goals and dreams are no longer met with a brick wall, they are met with curiosity.
We have had some funny times with the cops so far. Having a speedometer that only shows kilometers is forcing us to work on our math. We were pulled over in one small town and the officer approached ready to give us a ticket for speeding, but when he saw the speedometer and heard our "canadian accents" and noted that it was a father and a daughter, he let us off with a warning. This is definitely working in our favor.
As night fell the blanket pulled back revealing the a radiant red sunset that bounced off the roads. The mountains dotted the horizon and we ambled our way into Boulder setting up camp at the Campus Inn.
Its morning now.
Time for a hike.