GIRL FRIEND TIME IN HASTINGS, NEBRASKA

Moving across country, picking up and moving to a new location  each day can sometimes be disorienting. Of a sudden, you ask yourself, am I in Indiana? Or Missouri?  Where did we stay last night? What day is it? Well, I'll never forget Hastings, Nebraska.
That's because another affect of moving so swiftly is you don't get to bond and have girlfriend time. We girls need that. And every girl needs a Deneeta in her life.

Deneeta Svoboda is the Manager of American Legion Post 11 of Hastings, Nebraska. We pulled into town about 4 p.m., the bar was just about empty;  a week night. There was Deneeta, one of those women who makes instant friends. She is sunny and happy, it shines from her eyes. She made me feel right at home. We yapped for four hours about life, religion, values, places, children, small towns, jobs, friendships, the economy...the world was our subject!  Jim went back to the motor home so we could really get down and dish. We laughed and commiserated with each other. And, Deneeta even shared some of her private stash with me. Thanks Deneeta, I needed that.

  Don't laugh when I say the restrooms here were exactly like walking into your bathroom at home. THAT CLEAN .
And yep! That's Deneeta's doing as well. One of her values is cleanliness and the place sparkled. She decorates for every holiday, or event, such as the  Nebraska Huskers games coming up. The town of Hastings is blessed to have a cozy, friendly little nightspot to enjoy in the comfortable arms of a personality like Deneeta.

Now, I must dip back and explain our trip from Maryville, MO. to Hastings. Jim started out driving; it was raining lightly. We were rolling along on 136 West, our hiway of choice, when, Wham! A huge sign informed us the bridge over the Missouri River crossing was only 8'6". Wha? Our motor home is 8'6".  Jim got out the atlas and studied roads. We switched to Highway 2, then a missed or non existent road, seconded to Cheney Rd. which turned to dirt in less than a quarter mile. Finally found the right OLD Cheney rd. It was several aggravating turn-arounds and feeling out where to go.
We finally made Highway 6, and smooth sailing for my turn to drive, all the way into Hastings.

ROUGH TRUCKIN ' ON 136 WEST

We left Hamilton, Illinois situated close to the Iowa Border expecting to travel 250 miles, with each of us driving two hour shifts. The Road of life is not a straight one, nor is Highway 136 West, our alternative cross country route.

It took us North through a small section of Iowa where we crossed the Mississippi River at Keokuk and within 15 miles, we hit the Missouri State Line over the Des Moines River.   

This is what 136 looked like as Jim was driving, not smooth, a bit rugged, with a narrow shoulder. I took the wheel just before we made Unionville. We came to a detour which directed us to Milan,  23 miles  straight south from 136. Jim couldn't find a decent highway on the map to bring us back to 136. That, as it turned out, was because there wasn't a decent road big enough to be included on the map. E and EE were winding, hills, twisting first west, then north, than east than back around again. 
The roads got worse and worse with potholes and bumps. Old bridges where the iron was showing through the asphalt, probably built in the 1920's. The motor home rattled and shook and felt like it was coming apart. Then, when we thought it couldn't get much worse, we came across the, 35 MPH Rough Road Ahead sign. Arrggh. That speed is meant for cars, we were only safely managing 40 mph.  Jim offered to drive, but I figured I needed the experience and kept on trucking. Sometimes coming to a complete stop for a chuckhole that covered both sides of the road. Luckily there wasn't much traffic. Even so, driving a "roller coaster",  cresting each hill unable to see what was coming at you, made for an exciting moments. When meeting a big truck, with no shoulder, all in all, it was a dicey drive for a newbie. One bridge was so narrow, Jim told me to stop, but the oncoming semi stopped for me instead.  Jim described the road as a Baja road, only wider with less potholes. He made light of it but I noticed he didn't get one picture and white knuckled it all the way.

 We pulled in at Maryville, MO approximately 50  miles short of our goal feeling tired and glad to be on flat ground at a friendly American Legion.

To the anonymous person who left me another message about Monty Wolfe. I have no ability to answer your comment on a comments page. If you'll email me at marymatzek@gmail.com, I can give you some detailed information about what has taken place at the Monty Wolfe Cabin.