CANYCA: California to New York (and back) pg. 7
Let me see ... just having left Des Moines, and expecting to see Omaha in a couple hours or so, the curls of the smoothest dark chocolate I'd ever had melted into my mocha, which, by this time in the trip, rested in its new place on the dash, propped against the windshield, instead of in the plastic tray between the seats with my notes and cameras and such, as the third coffee spill in the trip earlier that day had me a little upset, and no other solution presented itself.
Between Des Moines and Omaha, there is a marked change in scenery from elswhere. Instead of mile after
mile of gentle rolling hills dotted with farms, barns, tractors and billboards, boundless horizon in all directions, corn, soybean,
sunflower and pumpkin fields, and the occasional exit off the freeway to some unseen community, there were
mile after
mile of gentle rolling hills dotted with farms, barns, tractors and billboards, boundless horizon in all directions, corn, soybean,
sunflower and pumpkin fields, and the occasional exit off the freeway to some unseen community.
However, contrary to what you might think, I was loving it for what it was. Yes, I'm happier in the mountains, forests, and desert, and I definitely prefer an overgrown dirt track to a smooth freeway, but I had never been here before, never really seen the Midwest (I still think I haven't; I80 is NOT the way to see America!) and I was just being appreciative of what I was doing and how it all came to pass.
Sometime just before 5:00 we rolled into Omaha, made our way down the main drag (Everytown, USA, but with a hill), and officially achieved halfway-dom when we pulled into the parking lot of Cram West VW and Import Shop (Omaha's finest, as far as I'm concerned!), where I met and spoke with Adam Silverman and Wade Rodman (thanks guys!) at some length, but due to the ever-present issues with time, had to take our parts (brake shoes and valve-cover gaskets) and go over to Rob Laffoon's where we made up a plan for the evening and then went to the shop where his son rents space, while Tim hied off to a motel to get some much-needed catch-up sleep.
Upon dissasembly, we found that the dragging/scraping noise from the rear brakes was to remain a mystery, as the shoes were thick ehough, but starting to delaminate. On the right side it was determined by the wet everything and a suspicious puddle that the wheel cylinder was leaking, but lacking parts and time, we just put the new shoes on, adjusted them, and then played with a welder for a bit, since the tailpipe was noticed to be hanging by its safety wires back at Cram West. After the work and cleanup, Rob took me on a tour of that marvelous shop, and showed me his other project (some assembly required). I can't really remember the details of Rob's buses and their stories, but I remember enough to say that I sure was happy to be hanging out there seeing and listening. Thanks, Rob, for all your help and hospitality!
That shop (Marsh Machine), owned by Doug Marsh, who was the friendliest, most helpful, and interesting guy, was simply to die
for. Or in. If any one of those beautiful antique behemoths decided to fall over, or you got your head stuck in the 40-ton hydraulic
press, there would be no reason to call the ambulance! Wow. Not the danger, which really was minimal if you kept your wits about
you, but the collection of vintage equipment, tools, and unbelievable amount of materials, combined with a collection of various other
antiques, curiosities and collectibles, not to mention the half-million projects of all types strewn all over the huge establishment
in what I would delicately call organized, from a slightly crazed fabricator's point-of-view. I suppose you could say I was in heaven!
You probably have gathered from the multitude of photos that I liked this place. I also felt not quite up to the task of expressing it in words, so there you are. Anyway, it was a blast, and a big help, so big thanks to everyone involved!
Now, in the next page, you will see mostly aircraft and rockets and spacecraft....Rob informed me of the presence of the Strategic Space and Air Museum just west of Omaha, and I just had to see it!