Reality 101

Scottsbluff to Kimball, Nebraska Wednesday, August 11, 2021

Today was a day of compromises and missed opportunities. For quite a while now, I have been uncertain of being able to visit the Nebraska highpoint. I’ve already been there by car, with Brian and Eric in 2004, but I hoped to get there under my own power. Trouble is, it’s on private land with an active bison range, and a large sign requesting that pedestrians and bicyclists stay away, it upsets the buffalo and could be dangerous. They ask that you visit only in a vehicle.

The buffalo aren’t always there, sometimes they’re in other pastures. My plan was to contact the landowners, to see if that might be the case tomorrow, when I hoped to do it. Their number isn’t listed; websites said they could be contacted through the chamber of commerce of the nearest town, Kimball. Google maps said the chamber closed at noon.

The chamber was up a 2000-foot hill, 45 miles away. I got up sleep deprived, super early to try to make it. The good thing was that I was able to catch the morning balloon launch, and get a better picture of Scotts Bluff. Too bad I didn’t have time to climb it.

Imposing edifices like Scotts Bluff should be the highpoint, but the real one is one of those slight rises in a flat field, like Indiana and Iowa. The whole state of Nebraska tilts upward as you go west, and the highpoint is just a few yards from the Colorado and Wyoming borders. Here’s a picture I got off the web, a stone monument placed by the chamber of commerce years ago, surrounded by an absurdly stout pipe fence, and an adjacent ancient steel desk where the register is. The landowners ask that you make a three dollar donation.

I pushed as hard as I could to get to the chamber by noon, but the heat, wind, my age, and sleep deprivation got the better of me, and I didn’t get there until 12:30. I needn’t have bothered.

Great. Now what do I do? I went into the municipal building, and a very helpful Wendy Baker called a woman she knew, Jessica, at the information center on the interstate. It was up another 300 foot hill, but what the heck.

Despite being busy with other tourists, Jessica spent nearly an hour with me, contacting the landowner, who was noncommittal about where the buffalo would be, giving me a special map, and brainstorming about perhaps finding someone who could meet me at the gate. The plan would be for me to walk or bike behind their vehicle, and if a buffalo came around, I would duck inside.

She offered to meet me there herself, but I saw how busy she was, what an imposition it would be. She mentioned that there was a deputy who lived fairly close to the highpoint, perhaps he could help. She texted his wife, who contacted him. By the end of the day, I hadn’t heard back.

I had to make a decision. Jane was flying to Denver to meet me in five days. Even in the best of circumstances, going to the highpoint, down 35 miles of dirt roads, would make the schedule very tight, at a time when the wind and heat remain significant factors. Add to that the uncertainty of when I got there, if there were buffalo around, and I was not able to arrange an escort, I would have to turn around empty-handed.

I’d already caved on the Wounded Knee destination, so I decided to let this one go as well. This may turn into a pattern. I had hoped to bike to the trailheads of all the big Rocky Mountain highpoints I have climbed, but I now see that time pressure and the approaching winter will make that impractical. If I am unable to do those, there will be a little point in trying to do Nebraska, to maintain my “streak” of doing them all under human power, in one or two stages.

Ah well. My therapist and family say this is good for me, making compromises, easing back on my rigidity, acknowledging the perfect is the enemy of the good. Another bitter pill to swallow. There was a point today, when I was pushing as hard as I could to reach that non-existent chamber of commerce in time, that I was ready to throw in the towel. Instead, I was sustained by the love of family and friends, and the kindness of strangers. The real theme of this trip.

Just as I’d cemented my plans, and wrapped things up to try to catch up on my sleep, Brandon the deputy called at 9:30, apologetic for not getting back to me sooner, he’d been flat out since 3AM. Sure, he’d be happy to meet me at the highpoint and provide an escort. D’oh!

Distance 46 miles, 5,163 total. Time 8 hours with stops. Elevation gain 2,008 feet

©️ 2021 Scott Luria