Having got to Kansas City in double-quick time, I hope that's the end of Interstate highways for a while. But Dulcie frowns on this: "Look, we can go the shortest way, or the quickest. Which is it to be?" She fails to understand that I just want to tootle along the banks of the Missouri. So I make my own plans.
She goes into one of her sulks, and won't tell me anything. I have to watch out for speed limit signs myself, and do sums to work out how far.
But my route takes me past a bank I know doesn't charge an ATM fee, so I get to stock up on cash. That might be a bit of a saving out in the country.
I stopped in Independence for breakfast, at Hazel's Country Café. If the pictures on the wall were anything to go by, the 'Country' referred to the music, and not the cooking. I plucked up the courage to ask for orange juice. I've been afraid to ever since the Waitress in Oakley, CO, brought me a pint of the stuff, and then kept coming back to see if I wanted some more. This waitress is grown-up, so it turns our all right.
Some twenty-odd miles from my destination (according to my dead-reckoning) I see a first mention of its name.
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Soon I get a glimpse of the famous railroad bridge (it was the first all-steel bridge in the world, although that has since been replaced)
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Then it's on to the ferry,
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(The crane is part of the road bridge rebuilding)
across the city limits
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They have clearly gone to considerable trouble to help me with my researches
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