Running Away with only 40hp: Failing to Find Myself Out West in an Old VW

slowlane

Observer
In Nebraska, the first 100 or so miles beyond the border at the Missouri River was indiscernible from what I left behind in Iowa. Now though, the land began gradually changing. Traveling along State Highway 2, which makes a broad curving sweep across the center of Nebraska, the rolls in the land started getting higher and more frequent. The cornfields ran out, replaced by several counties of hilly grassland that is apparently some of the best cattle range in the country. This is the Sandill Region, a vast expanse of ancient sand dunes that have been stabilized by the practically unbroken prairie that now grows upon them. It was mesmerizing watching the rolling swells of grass come and go while the VW cruised leisurely along this empty stretch of blacktop.

Along Nebraska Highway 2 near Halsey, when looking south, there rises a series of hills much darker green then their surrounding neighbors. Getting closer, that dark green turns out to be a solid stand of pines that cover several thousand acres, an island of trees in the rippling sea of grass. This out of place forest is not born of natural causes, but was planted by hand over the course of about two decades. In the early 1900's, botanist Charles Bessey surveyed this area deep in the prairie and determined that it would be an ideal spot for growing a forest. By that time the once great forests of the East and northern Midwest were rapidly being depleted, so he would create a new timber empire in the middle of Nebraska. The forest never materialized as a timber producing enterprise but still remains as a wildlife refuge run by the National Forest Service. Pine seedlings continue to be grown there for distribution around the state. The sign by the fire tower at the site proclaims it as the largest hand planted forest in the world. I climbed the tower, and overlooking the forest from above it was impressive.

I wandered around the hand planted forest for a while, but I was really more interested in getting out into the prairie. Back on Highway 2 there was another road leading off into the National Forest, this time into the grassland. I turned onto the dirt road which was still a bit muddy from the severe storm the night before, and followed it back into the hills. This area was dry enough that yucca was mixed in with the prairie grasses. The yucca was in full bloom along with the purplish-blue flowers of the abundant Spiderwort growing among the grass. Wild roses also grew sporadically, adding a splash of pink here and there.

The VW bumped along the rutted muddier sections of the road as it wound around in a general broad arc turning south and then back to the east. I stopped at many points along the way to take pictures and savor the solitude. There wasn't much breeze that morning and the singing of the birds rang clearly through the air without the rustling of the grass to muffle their song. There were a few really mucky low spots in the road that took a good deal of throttle for the engine to push the VW through, and the floorboards scraped the dirt once or twice. A lone shallow water crossing sent muddy spray splashing over the hood and onto the windshield. The VW soldiered on through everything. It's a good little car.

After spending all morning and part of the afternoon knocking around the National Forest land, I rejoined highway 2 and continued west. There was some interesting looking back roads leading off the main highway so I picked a random one and followed it for a while. I think I saw one other car in over two hours of rambling around. The ranch roads eventually rejoined a north/south highway where I turned south toward Alliance. There was a little dot in my atlas in the blank space north of Alliance that was labeled Carhenge. That seemed like it could prove amusing.

Arriving at Carhenge it was exactly as I hoped; an exact replica of Stonehenge made of junk cars painted grey to mimic stone. The bulk of the cars are from the 1960's and being an old car buff, the cars themselves were as interesting to me as the sculpture created from it. It was neat that there were no guardrails or fences around anything. I could go right up to the cars and wander around the place unimpeded. My curiosity satisfied, I made my way into Alliance where I stayed for the night.

A small portion of the hand planted pine forest seen from the fire tower in the Nebraska National Forrest.
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The VW on the road I took through the National Forrest. Blooming yucca and Spiderwort are all around.
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Nebraska National Forest.
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Nebraska National Forest.
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View from one of the ranch roads I explored later in the day. I think this may have been in Cherry County, NE.
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Cow skeleton in the Sandhills.
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Sandhills, Nebraska.
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Road to nowhere. Nebraska.
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Carhenge. Alliance, Nebraska.
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slowlane

Observer
Today was exciting because I was going to visit Chimney Rock. As a kid I had spent a fair amount of time staring into the screen of a beige computer monitor playing many a game of Oregon Trail. It was my favorite educational game that we were aloud to play in the elementary school computer lab. As such, I had digitally passed Chimney Rock hundreds of times before. Now I had the chance to finally see it in person. Every picture you see of Chimney rock, it seems to stand alone in space, rising out of a flat plain. However, it is actually near the beginning of a large chain of bluffs to it's south. I first went to the visitor's center which is probably about half a mile away from Chimney Rock. I was disappointed to find that there was no trail to walk back to it from the building.

I left the visitors center and drove farther down the road to an intersection with a dirt road that led toward the hill. The dirt road dead-ended at a little gravel parking area next to a small cemetery. I was happy to find a footpath from the lot that headed back toward Chimney Rock. I followed the path and soon I was right at the base of the strange land form. I don't remember how it was formed but it is very curious. I walked a little way up the base and laid down on the pale sandy rock that comprised the hill. To my right was the chain of steep bluffs stretching west and to the left was a flat plain, punctuated only by the visitor's center in the distance. Looking overhead behind me, the tall pinnacle at the hill's center jutted upwards, piercing into the clear blue sky beyond. Aside from a stone marker and the footpath leading in, there was no other development at the site, which made it easy to travel back in time and imagine the tens of thousands of wagons that have rumbled by this now quiet landmark.

A short trip northeast of Chimney Rock stands Scottsbluff National Monument, another important landmark on several western trails. Scottsbluff is a massive weathered sandstone butte that suddenly rises up from a flat expanse of land. There is a gap near the center where wagon trains and now the highway pass through it. The city of Scottsbluff lies on the flat land to the east of the monument. I entered the park and ate lunch. I then planned to hike the trail to the top. Just before the trail started up the side of the bluff it was blocked by a barricade with a sign that read "Closed Due to Rockslide". The massive amount of rain which had fallen that spring and summer had caused a landslide that wiped out the trail about halfway up the bluff.

It turns out there is a road up to the top as well, so I walked back to the VW and drove up. There was a tunnel in the road which greatly amplified the angry lawnmower-esque roar of the VW's engine as I passed through. At the top I got out of the car and walked out to the edge of the bluff. The top was several hundred feet above the plain below and provided a nice bird's eye view of the city of Scottsbluff, which stretched across it. On the other side, a line of steep bluffs reached far to the west. Finding a comfortable rock to perch on, I sat up there for quite a while.

By mid afternoon it was getting pretty hot and I was hoping to find some air conditioning to cool off in. On the way to Scottsbluff I had passed a large building called the Museum of the Plains or something like that. I figured that would be a good place to escape the heat for a couple of hours. I drove back to the museum where I went inside and paid the few dollars admission to wander around. Maybe there was some sort of exhibit changes or construction going on because there really wasn't much in the main building and it seemed a bit haphazardly thrown together. I didn't care. I was out of the heat for a while. The museum was pretty much devoted to farming and the implements involved. I did learn that at one time the Scottsbluff region was the major supplier of sugar beats in the U.S.

There was a second building, which unfortunately did not have A/C, that was filled with old restored tractors and other farm machines. I got a kick out of the information signs in front of the rows of tractors on display. Many read in this format, "1938 Tractor. Model------. 26 hp. In 1951 local farmer so-and-so harvested 6500 of bushels of wheat with this tractor. It was donated in 1995 by his grandson." Two things in there really did stand out to me. One was a huge steam powered wheat thresher from the 1890's. Made well before operator safety was even a thought, much less a concern, it looked downright dangerous.

The other contraption that caught my attention was a homemade snowmobile. A local man built it using an old Ford Model A sedan. The rear fenders were removed and an extra axle was added to the back. Strips of thick rubber were fastened together around the tandem rear wheels creating a crude track setup and skis were strapped to the front wheels. The man and the vehicle became a sort of hero during a terrible blizzard in the 1940's when he used it to transport food and supplies to unprepared residents marooned in the snow. Inexplicably I didn't take any pictures at the museum. Rejuvenated after that break in the air conditioning, I went north toward Fort Robinson State Park where I camped that night.

Scottsbluff National Monument from a distance. The scoop in the center is where the Oregon Trail and the current highway pass through it. I passed by the monument early in the morning on my way to Chimney Rock before coming back later.
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The VW headed toward Chimney Rock.
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Chimney Rock with blossoming Spiderwort.
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Scottsbluff National Monument. I'm standing in the low area where the pass goes through.
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Scottsbluff National Monument.
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This trail follows the old Oregon Trail route through the pass. There were supposedly preserved trail ruts around here but I didn't see them. Maybe they don't advertise their exact location to keep people from vandalizing them.
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Scottsbluff National Monument.
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Looking down on the city of Scottsbluff, Nebraska from on top of the national monument.
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Looking west at the long line of bluffs heading toward the horizon.
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shortbus4x4

Expedition Leader
Love your trip reports. I've been through the Sandhills region of Nebraska a few times for work, it is definitely one of the most interesting places in the midwest. Nebraska is very interesting when you get off the interstate. Thanks for posting.
 

slowlane

Observer
I had enjoyed traveling through the various landscapes over the past month or so since I left New Hampshire. However the answers that I had sought to personal problems remained illusive. I was chasing something that I was beginning to feel I wasn't going to find out here. The initial excitement of going away into the unknown had worn off and I was left stewing in the same mental conundrums that had plagued me for several years. The thrill of the open road was supposed to bring about some radical change, but no matter where I went, I was still the same old me. I wasn't going to change internally by chasing externally.

Mid-morning on the day after camping at Fort Robinson I became violently ill with some sort of stomach bug. I was going south into eastern Colorado preparing to head into the mountains when it struck. I spent the majority of the afternoon in and out of the same gas station restroom in Sterling, Colorado. Anything I ate came back out shortly and with a vengeance. I limped back north to Scottsbluff where I stayed the night. With my stomach churning itself into knots before emptying again and again, I didn't sleep much. During the night's wakeful hours, I mulled through options of what to do in this predicament. I decided tomorrow I would head back to my parents house in Wisconsin and recuperate there.

As light came on the horizon, I popped a couple Immodiums and left Scottsbluff. I only had one thing on my mind at this point, Wisconsin. I drove the entire way in a single day on nothing more than water, a couple of crackers, and the few broken hours of sleep the night before. A bit shy of midnight, I pulled into my parents driveway after over 900 miles straight in the VW. That is the farthest I've ever driven the car in one day and I don't plan on ever doing it again. Dead tired, I went straight to sleep.

After a couple of days I was better. During that time, I did a lot of thinking and gave up on retracing my way west. I felt that not going back out there was admitting failure but I didn't have the ambition to try again. At least not at this time. I spent the next few weeks in Wisconsin checking out the area around where my parents live.

I hiked several sections of the Ice Age Trail in the Kettle Moraine State Forest. The Ice Age Trail snakes through Wisconsin for around 1200 miles as it roughly follows the edge of the last glaciers from 10,000 years ago. The area of the trail that I walked is where the edges of the Green Bay and Lake Michigan lobes of the glacier ran along side one another, leaving behind large amounts of till when they melted away. That left a fairly rugged line of hills running northeast to southwest that includes lots of glacial topography like kames, kettle holes, and eskers to hike along. I also hiked a several mile section of relatively flat grassy and marshy area that was at one time a portion of the bed of a huge lake formed from glacial melt-water. There were several clear and cold spring-fed streams that ran through that area. Wisconsin was a lot more interesting than I had imagined it would be.

I also went to Old World Wisconsin twice. Old World Wisconsin is a living history museum devoted to early rural life. There are various historic cabins, houses, barns, and other buildings from around the state that were moved here in the 1970's. The whole place is laid out like a small rural community. There is a sort of main street with a blacksmith shop, general store, church, school, and some houses. From there several roads branch off in different directions that take you to recreated homesteads built by the various ethnic groups that immigrated to Wisconsin. Each has a pretty elaborate garden where herbs, vegetables, and flowers were being grown, and people in period dress would give you a tour of the buildings. One of the things that really stood out to me was the obvious disparities in carpentry skills from house to house. Some had pretty expert fitting joints and pieces nicely finished, while others seemed somewhat haphazardly cobbled together. I enjoyed the more crudely constructed dwellings because had I been built my own house, that is likely how it would have turned out. Old World Wisconsin is a really fascinating place, and I would definitely recommend a visit if you ever find yourself near Eagle, Wisconsin.

The area near Fort Robinson State Park. Hard to believe this is Nebraska.
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Northwestern Nebraska.
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Northeastern Colorado. The last picture before my stomach went crazy.
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Big Bluestem, the quintessential prairie grass, Retzer Nature Center. Waukesha, Wisconsin.
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Compass Plant at Retzer Nature Center. The flower stalks were about 7-8 feet tall.
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View from a hill at Retzer Nature Center.
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Stream along the Ice Age Trail. Kettle Moraine State Forest, Wisconsin.
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Large marsh with tons of flowering waterlilies. This was at a preserve that you could drive through in central Wisconsin but i can't remember what it was called.
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Eagle, Wisconsin.
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slowlane

Observer
These wouldn't all fit in the last post, so here are some of my pictures from Old World Wisconsin in Eagle, WI. It is a really neat place.

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The house to the left of the big pine tree is one of the earliest "manufactured" houses. The framing was a precut kit that was transported unassembled and then put together and finished wherever it ended up.
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The marks on the beams of the house above that aided in assembly. The framework was mostly pinned together with wooden dowels, a couple of which are visible in this picture.
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This house looks like stone from a distance but was actually built of cordwood. It was quicker to build in this fashion, with small chunks of wood laid sideways, because it minimized the amount of precision required in fitting logs together. It would have originally been chinked with cob, a mixture of mud and straw, but had been rebuilt with what looked like cement when it was moved here. It was one of my favorites.
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Closeup of the construction method of the house above. The little brass tags were numbered from when the house was taken apart and moved to its current location so each piece could be put back in its proper spot.
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One room house where a family of six children were raised in the late 1800's. Makes modern living seem a bit excessive.
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Another one of the more crudely constructed houses at the site. This one really reminds me of my carpentry skills. I guess it wasn't too bad because its pushing 150 years old.
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Dougnuts

Well-known member
Ah, 2015, a mere 6 years later and those seemed like simpler times.

Regardless, I love your writing style, pictures, and the car. Your time near Ft Robinson, and description of the beauty, is appreciated. I still have family there in Crawford and my parents now own the family ranch up on top of the hill. The forest in that region is beautiful.
 

86scotty

Cynic
@slowlane, not only are you a great writer and story teller, not to mention photographer, but I really appreciate how you've told your story. It's nice to see a different view and different experience than mine and also nice to see how you can find something worth finding about anywhere you go.

Thanks for sharing! I hope there's still more to the story.
 

slowlane

Observer
@slowlane, not only are you a great writer and story teller, not to mention photographer, but I really appreciate how you've told your story. It's nice to see a different view and different experience than mine and also nice to see how you can find something worth finding about anywhere you go.

Thanks for sharing! I hope there's still more to the story.

Thanks for the compliments. I'm glad you enjoyed it. I have really come to like searching out the overlooked spots in the middle of the country. I do need to get around to a conclusion for this story. I'll try to get to it soon.
 

slowlane

Observer
Ah, 2015, a mere 6 years later and those seemed like simpler times.

Regardless, I love your writing style, pictures, and the car. Your time near Ft Robinson, and description of the beauty, is appreciated. I still have family there in Crawford and my parents now own the family ranch up on top of the hill. The forest in that region is beautiful.

I'm glad you liked my report. The whole northwest corner of Nebraska was a very pleasant surprise for me. I went out that way because I wanted to see Chimney Rock, not even knowing what else was in the area. It's a very pretty place. I hope to get back out to that part of Nebraska again some day.
 

slowlane

Observer
Amazing story and photos, thanks for sharing.

Did I miss the back story on the VW?

I'm glad you liked it. If you are interested in my history with the VW, the original build thread from 2010 is on TheSamba.com titled "My 1966 Beetle Rebuild". I also did two other VW trip reports on this site, and in the first one from 2014 I gave a brief intro to the car.
 
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