To read about Eastbound adventures, click
here.
Our drive to Iowa via Michigan, Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois
was uneventful.
Well, other than paying
a lot of money to wait in long toll lines and over an hour of crawling traffic
near Chicago, it was pretty much just straight driving.
We reached Iowa as the sun was setting and
drove the final few hours in peace and darkness.
Our stop for the night was the Stony Creek
Lodge in Des Moines.
We checked in
around 11 pm and quickly settled into the comfy bed and a few TV shows before
calling it a night.
In the morning we
enjoyed a decent breakfast before heading to the lodge pool indoor/ outdoor
pool and hot tub, decked out in bear, elk, and woods motif.
It was kind of like Great Wolf without the
water park and crowds.
Drive, drive, drive down 1-80 we did for the next 400 +
miles. I did absolutely no planning for
this stretch, and wondered if there was some hidden gems that I was missing
right off the empty exits. Unexpectedly,
things did get a bit interesting when it was time to stop for dinner. As we blazed through the empty fields of
Western Nebraska, Jerry mentioned seeing an advertisement about 100 miles back
for an Indian restaurant. Lo and behold,
there it was when we pulled off the interstate, attached to a truck stop and in
the middle of nowhere… pretty much the least “Indian” looking place I could
imagine up. I was thinking- this will
either be a really great or really terrible idea. The truck stop was old and wearing, and while
in the midst of doubting that it could possibly contain an actual Indian
restaurant, the amazing and unmistakable smells of curry and spice hit me. We all agreed it was a great sign, and took
seats in a small awesomely vintage corner booth, likely made to fit a party of
two. And, can you believe, the food was great! The menu was all Indian and all authentic,
and we excitedly dined on spicy samosas, chicken tikka masala, chicken curry,
and saag with potatoes. It was actually
heavenly, no doubt even more special as it was the last thing I’d expected we’d
find for dinner. You can read more about
this immigrant’s American dream to own a truck stop restaurant here:
In addition to our cozy dinner, we found ourselves dining
just as an impressive storm hit and temporarily flooded out the parking
lot. By the time we were ready to make a
run for it to our car, even the toads were fleeing. Back on the road we had an hour or so of
gentle rain turn to dry roads, when another, possibly stronger, storm front
posed ominously. At one point our car
was speeding close to 80 mph seemingly under towering curve of the thundercloud
line, almost as if we were surfing under an epic wave. It wasn’t long before the monsoon rains and
lighting were dancing everywhere and we had to slow way down, now off the
interstate, as our phone buzzed with flash flood warnings.
 |
| Ominous views from Taste of India truck stop, Overton, Nebraska. |
 |
| Wondering if that drop ceiling would hold during a tornado... |
 |
| These vintage phone jacks were so cool! |
 |
| Indian food after a long day on the road- come to mama! |
 |
| I don't remember what was so funny, but I do remember feeling a bit delirious after the long drive and looming storm. |
 |
| Incredible storm clouds leaving the restaurant. |
And that was about it for excitement for the day… unless, of
course, you consider a remote, deserted, lakeside cabin stay fit for a serial
killer exciting.
Looking back, I did
find it a bit strange when I called earlier in the day to confirm our
reservation and the lady knew exactly who I was.
“Oh- you reserved a cabin with us for
tonight?
You must be Mrs. Flax.”
While, in reality, the conversation really
played like this in my head: “Oh, you are the crazy person that actually
reserved one of our cabins for the night??
Good luck, sucker!”
The call
ended with her instructions to look for “the last cabin on the left, oh and
also by the way we won’t be there tonight”.
First off,
hello did you not
see that movie Last House on the Left, and second, why is the entire main lodge
closed just days after July 4
th during prime lake season?!
I mean, in hindsight it was odd that this so
called lodge didn’t even have so much as a website, and I only found it after
an overzealous Google maps search around Lake McConaughy turned up indication
of maybe some lodging next to a defunct boat ramp.
I was innocently, merely looking for something
a bit remote, and off the beaten path (followed by an inexplicable desire to
search for true crime/ serial killer/ lakeside cabin podcasts).
So yes, I found the phone conversation a bit
odd and concerning, and my fears were only even more justified as we arrived
just prior to sunset, that the lodge was indeed closed, and we were the only
party appearing to stay for the night.
No other cars, and no other inhabited cabins (which, to be fair, it
seemed our “last cabin on the left” was the only one even fit for rental).
To put it mildly, this place is a bit
scary.
Yes, I am using present tense as
I sit at the kitchen table in our musty cabin, wondering how many gin and
tonics it will take to muster the nerve to go to bed for the night.
Let me set the scene for you- no cell service
or phone line?
Check.
Musty, old cabin with questionable window and
door locks? Check.
No other lodgers in
sight and owners left for the night?
Check.
Dark, secluded, woodsy
lakeshore right out your door?
Check.
Creepy, old TV/ VCR set up
with an ominous VHS tape hand titled “Watch Me”?
Check.
Okay, that last part didn’t really happen.
Are we acting irrationally, are we over
reacting for no reason?
I don’t know,
you tell me- is it normal to barricade the doors with furniture and stash a
kitchen knife next to the bed?
Probably
not, and probably we should bail, but this late at night, we have committed to
staying, and hopefully this will be a memory that will be the start of many
great laughs and stories in the future.
“Remember
that time honey, you tried to get the whole family murdered at that dilapidated
cabin on that remote section of Nebraska shoreline?
Well, at least our bellies were full with
some good truck stop Indian…”
For now
though, I’m arming with my gin.
Like
ordering Indian from a truck stop, I’m getting the feeling this could either
turn out really great (okay, probably not great at this point), or end up being
a terrible idea.
 |
| Honey, we're heeere! |
 |
| Our cabin for the night... pictures don't do the creepiness justice. |
 |
| Multiple flimsy windows looking out in the woods... that's just great! |
Months later, in the safety of my house, I’m finally sitting
here ready to get this posted. As you
might have guessed, no one was injured in the making of this blog. When I awoke at first light in our cabin I
felt an immediate rush of relief. I
counted heads to reaffirm, and then headed to the “kitchen” to fix some
coffee. The rest of our day and drive
involved a little hike along the shore of Lake McConaughy, which we decided to
save exploring of for another day and time (and cabin, for that matter!).
Another hike mini hike at Ash Hollow State Historical Park,
and a couple of gas station/ fast food stops later, and we were home before
sunset. And after our last night on the road,
my own bed never felt so good!
 |
| Shores of Lake McConaughy |
 |
| Remy is digging up bones at the Ash Hollow visitor center. |
 |
| Ash Hollow hike |
 |
| Leaving Nebraska |
