Serendipity Lodging

It was time to see my wife Julia. The mules and I have been on the road for 4 months, traveling from North Carolina toward Idaho.

Crossing the Middle Loup River between Norway and Seneca, Nebraska.

Julia and I decided the Sand Hills of Nebraska would be a great place for her to fly out and meet me. She booked a plane ticket and a rental car. She didn’t click on that “Add a Room to Your Ticket” option.

She just said, “I’m happy to stay in the tent or whatever we find.”

I thought, “I’ve slept on the ground in this damn tent 115 nights. A bed might be nice.”

Instead of climbing online to find a place for us to stay, I climbed on to my mule. It’s the way I do things.

The Search for Lodgings

The day before Julia arrived in Hyannis, I hadn’t a clue where we’d spend the next week. I had a tent in my saddle bag so at least we had somewhere to spend the night.

Home sweet dome. My 2-man tent.

The tent had been a fine home for my quarter of a year on the road but I wanted to do better. What would be really cool, I thought, was if we could rent a bunk house or cabin. Maybe on a ranch. Maybe in Hyannis.

But the few feelers I put out for cabins fell flat. It was peak haying season. Seems all the cabins, bunk houses and mobile homes were occupied.

Peak hay (outside Whitman, Nebraska)

Down to the Last Day

It was my last day on the road with my mules before Julia arrived. I was riding up Highway 2, counting squashed toads and windmills. For variety, I added coal trains. On the side I wondered, “where the hell am I going to stay with Julia?” There was always the tent…..

A car pulled up and out piled a lanky cowboy. “I’m Tim” he said, “and I think it’s cool what you’re doing.”

Tim Billingsly (Hyannis, Nebraska)

I groove on these visits. I get to catch up with folks and the mules get to catch their breathes from walking up the road. Tim worked on a ranch. The conversation swerved from pack saddles to hoof boots to how I fed the mules on the road.

Just before he drove off I asked, “hey, do you know where I might rent a cabin for when my wife visits?”

I told him what I was looking for and kept riding up the road, counting down the mile markers until Hyannis. 157, 156, 155….

Hours later, on the outskirts of Hyannis, my pack mule Brick nickered at a golf cart putt putting up a golf course. The cart stopped. Out stepped Tim. He waved us over.

“Hey, I think I’ve got a place for you to stay.” He knew a rancher with a cabin and gave me his number.

I arrived in Hyannis and dialed the number. Ring, ring, ring. Ring, ring, ring.

Straight to voicemail.

Damn. Julia was arriving in less than 24 hours and this lead was thin as the pants I’d been riding 4 months in.

Next morning. Same phone and dance routine. Ring, ring, ring. Ring, ring, ring. Voicemail.

T-minus 8 hours ’til Julia showed up. How many bottles of Coors would it take to turn the tent in to a romantic lake side cabin?

T-minus oh-crap-Julia’s-pulling-in-with-her-rental-car. My phone rings.

Final Arrangements

A man says, “Hi, it’s Seth,” and tells me he’s been out rounding up cattle and didn’t return my call because he doesn’t get phone reception way out there in the Sand Hills and sure, he’s got a lakefront cabin he’d be happy to rent us while Julia’s in town.

I checked out the cabin and knew tent life would be hard after this. The cabin sat on a lake inhabited by white pelicans and cormorants and moss covered snapping turtles that dragged themselves ashore to lay eggs in the sand.

There was a cotton wood tree and 2 beds and the curtains were held back with handkerchiefs.

The cabin: it is built with massive timbers that, if I understood correctly, came out of a Snake River bridge.
Welcome to the bunkhouse
A place to take a break from the road
Lake reflection

It’s Not About the Room

Finding a place for Julia and I to spend the week was fantastic. But that wasn’t the biggest gift. No, the biggest gift was experiencing how not over-planning lead to some of life’s grandest experiences.

This was the serendipity part of it. This whole experience hinged on one stranger stopping on a highway to talk with a guy on a mule. If that person hadn’t have stopped, the outcome would have been different. Maybe better, maybe less so. But definitely different.

Not hitting the “Add a Room to This Package” button is how riding up the road on a mule lead to a ranch hand that lead to a cabin that lead to Julia and I pitching in to work what some ranchers around here call “trouble in a leather sack”.

Trouble in a leather sack

But that’s a story for tomorrow, Sunday’s, photo-essay. For another take on our meeting in the Sand Hills, read Julia’s “You Never Know” article at her blog.

An incredible place to stay with Julia


  • Tim Billingsly: for putting me in touch with Seth and Jenna Adam
  • Seth and Jenna Adam: for providing Julia and me with a cabin
  • Keiko Sakakibara: for the shower, runza, washed clothes and great conversation
  • Mose and Micky Hebbert: for putting up the mules while I’m visiting Hyannis

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Oldest Most Voted
Inline Feedbacks
View all comments

[…] arrived in Monday. Tuesday morning, in a series of twists and turns that involved a lanky cowboy and a log cabin, we ended up tagging along with 2 brothers – Seth and Doug Adam – as they doctored […]

Christian Harberts
4 years ago

On our recent bike expedition, the one time I called ahead (it was late) to make sure a camp site was available, then raced to get there in time before staff left, the guy’s girlfriend said “Hey – we have this little converted gypsy wagon we rent out, if you want…” It was our 24th wedding anniversary. Totally unplanned. Lousy mattress, fantastic memory!


Jerry Larsen
4 years ago

Hey Bernie & Julia, Great Read about your meeting up in the Sand Hills. This is Jerry, we met when you were at the safari Park, but were unable to connect back up. I had my rotator cuff surgery and I only have 3 more months before I can ride. I can’t wait, however I have no choice. Glad you have enjoyed Nebraska and let it be known that if you are ever in the Omaha area you will always have a room and A steak cooked over wood. I look forward to crossing paths again someday. Regards, Jerry

Kelli Griffith
Kelli Griffith
4 years ago

Great read! My husband is from the Sand Hills, grew up on a ranch the son of a veterinarian. Seth Adams’s mother, Ronda, is a dear family friend of my husband. She shared your post & enjoyed reading it so much! I’m not at all surprised you & your mules found such hospitality in Hyannis. It’s these “fly over states” that make up the backbone of this country. It’s refreshing to hear someone else’s take on the Sand Hills folks (we’re a little biased). We’re also horse people outside of Houston, TX, & enjoy trail riding, though not to the extent that you do! Safe travels to Idaho & keep sharing your experiences! Thank you!

Current Ramble
Other Cool Reads