Kellogg RV Park, Kellogg, Iowa
Now Isaac . . . went out to the field one evening to meditate, and as he looked up, he saw camels approaching. Rebekah also looked up and saw Isaac. She got down from her camel and asked the servant, “Who is that man in the field coming to meet us?” “He is my master.” So she took her veil and covered herself. Then the servant told Isaac all he had done. Isaac brought her into the tent of his mother Sarah, and he married Rebekah. So she became his wife, and he loved her; and Isaac was comforted after his mother’s death. ~ Genesis 24:62-67 And so begins the next phase of God’s promise to save the world through Abraham . . .
We’ve had enough of the expressway noise, plus we figure we’ve seen most of the attractions in the area. Okay. Let’s be honest. It’s the expressway noise. The wind is still blowing the sound directly at us, and as close as our neighbors are, they don’t block the sound. At least it doesn’t seem like it. So we made the decision yesterday to move on. Fortunately, our next spot had an opening.
The nearly four-hour, 207-mile journey was extremely windy and Blaine had to fight to keep us in our lane much of the drive.
There wasn’t a lot to see. Mostly farms and windmills. Tons of windmills!
Two hours in, we stopped at a rest area so Blaine could give his arms and fingers a break. As we approached, we could see this enormous windmill blade sticking straight up right by the rest area! This turned out to be probably one of the most interesting rest areas we’ve ever seen! Great job, Iowa!
Back in the saddle again, we continued toward the state line and entered Nebraska.
A military escort! : ) 
Actually, there’s a flight museum in Ashland.
We’re supposed to fit through there?!? 
And yet we did. As do many semis, we later learned.
Ashland RV Park, Ashland, Nebraska
No Helix cut available. : (
You have to wonder at the reason . . .
We’re staying in a pretty newly developed campground that’s perched between Omaha and Lincoln, and it’s well done with nice wide concrete pads and parking areas, plus water with great pressure and terrific electric. But they didn’t put in sewers! So if you’re staying more than one or two nights, all that water pressure goes to waste; unless you want to move your camper/motorhome every day or two to visit the dump station. Or you carry a Blue Boy (a totable that you pour all your waste – both gray and black water – into and pull it to the dump station). Blue Boys aren’t that big, so you’d have to dump every day. Nope. Not doing that! But we can still go a week without much trouble with our big holding tanks.
And even though Blaine thought it would be a quiet place, it’s not. I’m thinking there’s some kind of national law that says all privately owned campgrounds must be placed near where there’s a busy, truck-driven road and train tracks that are used daily . . . .
But at least it’s better than where we were . . . .
And the trains go by, but there’s no whistle, just a lot of low rumbling.
And downtown Ashland is an easy five-minute walk from where we’re parked. So despite the temperature that soared into the mid-nineties, we took a walk up and down the streets of historic downtown Ashland.
Nice little town!
I actually took this screen shot at 2:49am, as Blaine and I were both up wandering. Well, Blaine wasn’t just wandering, he was checking our power backup, because power went out at the campground.