When we were driving across New England in May and June this year, we had no idea it wouldn’t be our only time in the U.S. in 2022. In August, I decided to attend the SIETAR USA conference, which was being held in Omaha, Nebraska. There were a few back-and-forth discussions about how to fit it into our schedules; we usually take a break in November, when London turns grey and gloomy, so it felt like an either-or situation. In the end, we made up our minds: sunny beach holidays could wait until January when the new annual leave could be accrued.
Nebraska is part of the Midwest, the area of the United States that feels like the middle of nowhere. It’s a bit like Poland in Europe: a flat land you cros, or, in Poland’s case, “acquire” if you were Russian or German and looking to expand your territory. You don’t stop there; you use it as a passage to a more interesting final destination, frankly speaking. Don’t get me wrong, I knew Midwest was home to iconic places like the Badlands and Mount Rushmore, which I’ve always wanted to visit, by the way. The shortest flight from London, though, takes over 13 hours and includes at least a two-hour layover somewhere along the way. That also means it’s on the more expensive side. At the end, even if money isn’t an issue, the time is limited. You don’t want to spend so many hours just traveling to and from, only to stay for a weekend.
There was a solution, though. A direct flight to Chicago takes less than seven hours and costs about half price of the Omaha flight, so we decided to rent a car and turn it into a road trip. We even planned to visit Cahokia Mounds, a site we’d first heard about playing Civilization VI, our favorite computer game, which would only add a couple of hours to the Omaha–Chicago route. And that’s how it all began. Every day, we added another stop to our itinerary. What started as a relatively short drive and a two-day conference turned into a 12-day road trip and an incredible adventure. We chose to spend Halloween in the Midwest, because nowhere else in the world is this holiday celebrated quite like it is in the U.S. (even the wall sockets are spooky!). And we don’t regret a thing.
Because of our London life, we decided to skip the big cities. I’m sure Chicago is amazing, full of interesting sights, but after years of crowds and noise, we just wanted to relax and clear our minds. There are so many places in the area we’d been eager to visit, and I simply missed driving since moving to London. Over the course of the trip, we covered more than 4,500 kilometres (almost 2,900 miles). On one day, I even drove 1,100 kilometres (just under 700 miles). We visited 10 states, six National and State Parks, several museums, and two zoos – an experience we won’t soon forget.
the Midwest
Before I dive into my trip, it’s important to get a sense of what the American Midwest really is. To complicate matters, there’s no single agreement on which states it actually includes. Back at the start of British colonization, anything beyond the Appalachian Mountains was considered “the West”. Over time, that boundary gradually shifted farther west until it reached the Mississippi River, which, quite conveniently, divides the continent both geographically and culturally along an almost straight north–south line.
The states we’re talking about were then part of the Northwest Territory, but with the expansion of the Union, what used to be considered “the West” is now right in the middle. To distinguish it from the Wild West and the West Coast, the term “Midwestern United States” was coined, and it’s the official designation used by the U.S. Census Bureau. By the way, because of its central location and its traditional, conservative values, the region is often called the American Heartland.
The region consists of 12 states: Ohio, Michigan, and Indiana – the three we didn’t visit this time—and nine others, listed here in the order we traveled: Illinois (home to Chicago, the third most populous city in the U.S.), Wisconsin, Minnesota, North Dakota, South Dakota, Iowa, Nebraska, Kansas, and Missouri. (Between the Dakotas, we also made a detour into Montana). It’s worth noting, especially for anyone who follows U.S. sports leagues, that the term “Midwest” can still feel a bit vague and should never be taken as fixed. And for those used to time zones aligning neatly with national or regional borders, it may come as a surprise that the westernmost parts of both Dakotas, as well as sections of Kansas and Nebraska, observe Mountain Time—just like states farther west—while the rest of the Midwest we visited falls under Central Time. To keep things simple, or at least not more confusing than necessary, I’ve decided to follow the U.S. Census Bureau’s definition of the Midwest. It’s also nearly identical, Arkansas being the only difference, to how the National Park Service divides the country. And I love the NPS!
the Great Plains
Most of our destinations were in the Great Plains, the vast region stretching between the Mississippi River and the Rocky Mountains, covered mainly by grasses and shrubs rather than forests. In this part of the world, such landscapes aren’t called steppes, as they are on the borderlands of Europe and Asia, or savannas, like in Africa. Here, they’re known as prairies, a term introduced by the first European settlers in the area. Unsurprisingly, it comes from the French word for “meadow”, a fitting name, considering the early settlers were French and the territory was once part of the Louisiana Purchase.
The prairies stretch endlessly towards the horizon, and that, aside from the conference, was the main reason for our trip. It’s one of the few relatively accessible places in the world where you can truly feel how small we are and how fleeting our lives are compared to the age of the Earth. The geological formations in this region date back millions of years, to a time when a shallow inland sea covered the plains. As the waters receded, grasslands gradually took over. And where there was grass, herbivores came to forage, followed, naturally, by the carnivores that preyed on them. The megafauna may be long gone, but the prairies still hold their stories: many significant fossil sites have been discovered here, preserving traces of that ancient world.
The Midwestern states lie within a vast, flat expanse of lowlands, ideal for agriculture. As you move westward and rainfall decreases, fertile croplands gradually give way to open pastures. And what pastures they are! These areas have some of the lowest population densities in the contiguous United States, fewer than 5 people per square kilometre (11 per square mile) in the Dakotas. Only Wyoming, Montana, and, of course, Alaska have lower numbers. In South Dakota, there are nearly five times more cattle than people; in Nebraska, it’s more than three times. It’s no surprise, then, that locals are serious meat-eaters—which brings us to the next subject…
the food
Unlike our trip in May and June, when we genuinely enjoyed the food, this journey turned out to be a huge culinary disappointment. Admittedly, our expectations were high, we’d heard that the Midwest, especially the area we were visiting, was famous for its steaks. My husband, who normally treats vegetables as mere decoration rather than actual food, was beyond excited. I think part of his enthusiasm came from months of hearing me talking about cutting down on meat for environmental and health reasons. He insisted that Nebraska beef was the best in the U.S. and claimed it was a cultural experience to try it there. He knows I’m unlikely to argue with anything presented as cultural characteristic, when in Rome…
Speaking from experience, simple burgers served in the most unassuming diner in the U.S. are often better than those from supposedly good places anywhere in Europe. Maybe it’s because Americans invented them, or maybe it’s because Europeans tend to dismiss burgers as cheap fast food, I’m not sure. But one thing is clear: we just don’t make them right, I’m afraid. A proper burger should be juicy, full of flavor, and made with care, regardless of the type of meat used. This time, we tried buffalo (for my non-American readers that’s bison), elk (and just to clarify for non-American English speakers – elk in U.S. English is not a moose, it’s a wapiti deer), and, of course, beef. We had steaks, burgers, and hot dogs, and every single one was excellent. As a flexitarian who would usually prefer something vegalicious over mediocre meat for the sake of eating flesh alone, I can honestly say: I want more!
And the meat was good, if only it had been the only ingredient on the plate. Unfortunately, alongside the tasty cuts came… “things”. I wouldn’t dare calling them vegetables. Some of them may have once been potatoes, beans, or carrots, but by the time they reached our plates, it didn’t matter whether they’d been boiled or fried, they were bad. On a scale of 10 from raw to done, they ranked at least a 12. On the colour wheel, they hovered squarely in the grey middle zone. My aunt, who lost both her sense of smell and taste to COVID two years ago, can still make scrumptious meals where the flavours and fragrance mingle together in a perfect harmony. No wonder American kids hate vegetables. There have even been national campaigns, backed by celebrities and led by First Lady Michelle Obama herself, to encourage children, and eventually adults, to eat more greens.
I don’t know why, maybe because the region is so sparsely populated, but there just weren’t many places to eat along the way. Perhaps hardworking farmers or miners simply prefer to eat at home. Aside from a few larger towns like Rapid City, Omaha, or St. Louis, the options were mostly limited to fast food chains or gas stations offering vaguely warm munchies. Back in May, we often stopped at small diners on the outskirts of towns, where the food was homemade and genuinely delicious. This time, we found just one memorable spot, a cozy Mexican restaurant somewhere in South Dakota with surprisingly tasty dishes, and that was about it. Even American chocolate bars were a challenge: sweeter and heavier than their European cousins (like Milky Way in the US which is a Mars bar in Europe). So grabbing a quick bite while driving wasn’t quite the simple pleasure we hoped for.
By the way, when you’re driving all day, you normally need coffee. And that’s something I can truly complain about. On previous trips, there were plenty of Dunkin’ Donuts or Tim Hortons at the very least. But in this part of the country, where population density is low, I get it, there just aren’t many options for fussy European customers. Americans tend to stick to drip coffee, or treat themselves with a French Vanilla when they feel fancy, which is basically a 1:1:1 ratio of sugar, heavy cream, and coffee. If you’re looking for Old World-style coffee, your only real hope lies in the familiar chains I mentioned above. On the bright side, if you like the flavour but want to skip the caffeine, decaf is everywhere. Just keep in mind that “flavour” might be overstating things a bit. Well… beggars can’t be choosers.
In the next post I will write more about the actual trip. Get ready for lots of pictures! In the meantime, have a look at the few very short time lapse videos of our drive.
[…] is the second post about my Midwestern road trip; the first one is here. There are plenty of pictures and all are clickable if you want to see the bigger […]
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