The states out here are HUGE. Like, you now have 450 miles of driving in Nebraska, huge. Consult your map if you must, but we are just about halfway there my friends! It is interesting how something can be altogether exactly how you envisioned it, but then different and new at the same time. Driving through Nebraska made me want to bust out in a lively version of “Oklahoma.” So I did. Even though we were clearly in the wrong state. Close enough. You can’t help but be amazed at the hills that turn into farming fields which eventually become cattle ranches. We pulled off into another park, and were greeted by a nice group of people who recommended that we walk down a quick hiking trail to see the Platte River Valley, which we did right after they ooohed and aahed over how handsome Hanky Boy was. I eventually had to tell them to stop because if Hank’s head grew any bigger he won’t fit in the back of the van. He of course felt grand for the remainder of the park visit – sashaying down the trail as two more families stopped to say hello to him. The Platte River Valley was just as scenic as those people had said it would be. After being around corn and cattle all day we decided that a steak dinner would be perfect. The only thing that was better was finally seeing an illusive tumbleweed cross the highway a few miles outside of Wyoming. I can’t make this stuff up, people. I saw a tumbleweed!