Dispatch 10: Lincoln to Johnson Lake State Recreation Area

We stopped in Seward at the world’s largest time capsule, which is topped by a white concrete pyramid. The underground capsule was sealed in 1975, and the pyramid was added in 1983. There are over 5,000 artifacts inside, most notably a Chevy Vega, no mileage, and Kawasaki motorcycle, also no mileage. It will be opened next year on July 4th. 

Wabi-sabi is the Japanese aesthetic that finds beauty in imperfection. Our days are spent steeped in the dust of the roads we traverse. The bikes are filthy, and we’re grimy. It is a beautiful imperfection.

Today was extra dusty. Nebraska’s gravel roads are well worn from the trucks that transport corn, sorghum and soybean from the fields to grain elevators and ethanol plants. The base material of these roads consists of pebbles and powdered limestone. It was the first time we’d seen that mix of aggregate, and riding through it was like skiing in slush. 

We stopped along a gravel road where haul trucks convoyed from a soybean field. Jerod took pictures of grain pouring from a harvester to a large buggy pulled behind a tractor. We rode into the field and struck up a conversation with Steve Rafert, the farmer orchestrating the dance of machines in the field. “The soybeans will tell you when they’re ready to be picked,” he said. He explained that if the plants were too wet, they’d start to clog the combine and you’d feel it at the controls. He instantly related to our machines telling us he and his son rode dirt bikes. The motorcycle is the great conversation catalyst. We left Steve to his work.

We crossed the shallow and braided waters of the Platte River and stopped for dinner in Kearney at Runza, a Nebraska institution. A runza is a sleeved, rolled sandwich with ground beef and sauerkraut.

We finished our day on another Nebraska delicacy, the minimum maintenance road. Yep, it’s a dirt road that receives minimal maintenance, and they are spectacular. Our last bit of earthen pathway undulated through cuts across folded grasslands. Its surface is narrow, smooth, and grooved with the tracks of vehicles that have gone before us. It is the most beautiful imperfection I’ve ever seen. Wabi-sabi. 

I crawled into my tent along the grassy banks of Johnson Lake and dreamt about minimum maintenance roads.