Nebraska: Sugar Sand and Solitude
In the center of Nebraska lies the Sandhills, encompassing more than 19,000 square miles of scattered small towns and ranches, along with half a million cows. This unlikely destination had been on my bucket list for years.
Finally, I found myself at Flyover Brewing in Scottsbluff, NE, with my good friend, John. We were talking with our hostess, Brady, who grew up on a ranch in the Sandhills. The family passion for being good stewards of the land was clear as she relayed stories about ranching life in this unique landscape.
European settlers initially overlooked this part of the Cornhusker State for agricultural uses. E.S. Newman was mocked when he brought cows to the area in 1877 as a food source for surrounding Native American reservations. Following a severe winter, no one expected to find any cows alive in the vast hilly grassland, but there they were—fat, dumb, and happy, as it were.
Those that had laughed at Mr. Newman ate their words and ranching in the Sandhills became a thing.
As we headed north from Scottsbluff toward Chadron, I stopped on a lovely undulating gravel road in the open rangeland to take a picture of some cows. Much to my surprise, they ran toward us and formed an arc around us.
Ultimately, they concluded we were of no interest and headed to a large water tank.
Motorcycles & Gear
2017 Honda CRF250L Rally
2024 Honda CRF300L Rally
Helmets: Schuberth E2, Arai XD-5
Pants: Klim Dakar
Jacket: Klim Mojave
Boots: Sidi Adventure Low
Gloves: Klim Dakar
Luggage: Wolfman
Our route took us briefly into the Nebraska National Forest, providing some relief from the heat, before we descended into rolling hills leading to the Fort Robinson State Park. This fort was constructed in the late 1800s during the westward expansion when incoming settlers were forcing Native Americans into newly established reservations.
Our northernmost destination was the Oglala National Grasslands and Toadstool Geologic Park. Soft clay topped with harder sandstone set the stage for the toadstools. The waves on an ancient sea, wind, rain, and snow have eroded away the clay layers, leaving the larger sandstone boulders precariously perched atop narrow columns.
While hiking, we watched the western clouds closely as they morphed into something much more menacing, so we raced the storm 73 miles east to Rushville. With the temperatures hovering around 100 degrees, my Honda started to cut out, causing me to slow to 50 mph.
Thinking some kind of vapor lock was occurring due to the heat, I stopped and added fuel, hoping to depressurize the gas lines. It did run a little better after this.
Within 15 minutes of arriving at the Nebraskaland Motel, flashes, rumbles, and brief heavy rain passed over as we sat in the doorway of our rooms. Once the storm passed, the humidity decreased and the temperatures dropped into the 70s.