Omaha

I was planning on stopping in Omaha for an overnight on my way out to Colorado anyway, but since timing is everything, I figured I would depart the same weekend Amy (my connection to Omaha) came to Chicago. I didn’t actually plan it this way, it was just luck of the draw. So rather than fly home, she accompanied me on the maiden voyage of Champagne Gold Opalescent. Photo of the car to come, be patient. It exists, promise.

Amy just moved from Chicago herself, so what I was doing, with her in the car, was remarkably similar. We discussed the craziness of it all, how the different paths in life can cross and intersect and meet again years later, and also how strangely parallel our paths were. She also rode with Plant in her lap, and, well, let’s just say Plant doesn’t like Amy anymore after she snapped off two branches of the poor thing.

Hours later and I got to see some Omaha, say hi to a cardboard cutout of Shawn Michaels, eat a delicious dinner at Lot 2, and eat some tasty ice cream.

Also got to meet some big wigs in the Omaha bike shop scene. Amy’s friend Sarah is opening a pretty sweet full-service shop with a full-service coffee shop inside. Intelligentsia coffee, too, no less. If only I were more interested in coffee like a normal human being / bike rider.

Oh, and the bike shop was opening in a building that used to house bras. Women’s big and tall bras. Oma-Bra was the name. How could a shop fail with that kind of history on its side? Exactly. It can’t.

If you go to Omaha, check out the OBC (Omaha Bicycle Company) in Benson.

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