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Flashback : The image of the Fall of Saigon catches the corner of the eye , and cuts like a switchblade .
DAY FOUR : INTERSTATE 76 / INTERSTATE 80 Somewhere during the day I cross the 100th meridian , the point that divides rainfall in the United States . To the east , more than 20 inches a year ; to the west , less than 20 inches ( something noted by John Wesley Powell in his diary ). The Great Plains do not have the in-your-face rock theatrics of the West . Deep Time is hidden . Bedrock , the craton or shield that is the oldest part of America , is some 2,000 feet beneath a layer of soil , and hasn ’ t changed in 2 billion years . Without the geological timepiece , my perspective shifts . I enter cropland . I realize that Nebraskans measure time in a single layer , the height of the corn , or perhaps the weight of cattle .
The signs for roadside attractions are larger than out West and seem desperate to call attention to the most recent histories — the tracks of pioneer wagons still visible in the soil , the home of winning football teams ( state champions from before you were born ), missile silos left over from the Cold War .