I'm not in Kansas anymore

I made it to Kearney, Nebraska. Hamdullah. Dorothy can have Kansas back. I'm done with it.

I've been to all 50 states, but cheated on three -- Idaho, Wyoming and Kansas, just crossing the border to each of those. So on this trip, I decided to drive through Kansas just to spend some time there. I'll be seeing enough of Wyoming, but poor Idaho will have to wait.

Although it wasn't too bad, Dorothy can keep it. There's lots of room for Toto to run but not a lot else.

The prairie was nice but I didn't see amber waves of grain. Whatever was growing was green and when the wind blew -- which was often, hence the windmills -- it was sort of mesmerizing, which is not what you want to do when speeding by at 80 mph.

I saw Topeka from the interstate and a really bad crash in Kansas City, the city I saw twice because I got turned around in a detour.

So far, I've put over 1200 miles on the car -- I counted around 5 p.m. but kept driving until 9 p.m. -- and have about five hours left, if Google maps can be trusted.

Oddly, just after I decided I imagined the whole pioneer museum thing and was trying to find a hotel room, I happened on the thing hovering across the interstate.

I didn't go and likely won't because I am ready to end this road trip, but it is cool from the outside. Right now I am in a Ramada, sipping my free drink -- tea -- and am just dead on my feet.

But really, the drive hasn't been that bad. Perhaps if no other jobs pan out I can become a long-haul driver.

There's always hope.