Yep, Lucky Charms — they’re magically delicious, and boy, did they taste good.

(Just don’t tell my wife.)

After the business-as-usual driver’s meeting, we all headed for Lincoln, Nebraska. With a great back-roads route, part of which was the Oregon Trail, we headed West and then North. Local folks waited on bridges for a glimpse of the Tour.

And we waited in the car for a glimpse of the local folks. Seemed like a fair trade.

The road to Lincoln led from the Interstate to a two-lane highway — two lanes that led, coincidentally, to Oz.

Everyone else had the same idea, but we managed to find a parking spot in Wamego, Kansas, and stopped in to see the OZ Museum.

Shane’s fiancee is a big OZ fan, so he bought her a T-shirt (don’t tell — it’s a surprise). He also took hundreds of pictures for her. We even found the Tin Man...

in larger-than-life size.

While not as interesting as the drive through Arkansas, we still found things to pique our interest — things like a Conestoga Wagon.

Can you imagine traveling 2,500 miles in one of these, at 10 or so miles a day? No cruise control, no air conditioning, no high-speed Internet.

I can’t either.

In-between the old barns,

we even ran across a couple who asked not to be identified. I’m guessing she’s in the federal witness protection program.

You never saw her, okay?

In the charming town of Frankfort,

folks lined both sides of the street.

Young,

and old alike.

I guess you can be camera shy at any age.

After Frankfort, it seemed like we were home.

Home, Kansas, that is.

With the cars running over the hill and through the dale, it pays to keep your senses sharp. No distractions for this serious driver.

Not all were having a good time, though. Some cars pulled-over with mechanical troubles.

It was nice of the others to stop and help a brother out.

Somewhere along the way, the road changed from smooth asphalt to expansion-jointed concrete that shook our kidneys.

Welcome to Nebraska.

Shane and I stopped for lunch at the Burger King in beautiful Beatrice, Nebraska, along with 2,000 other Power Tour cars.

Leaving was a real challenge in this sleepy town with a population of only 12,000.

Just north of town, another Tourer bit the dust.

It’s gotta be the concrete road.

The Nebraska DOT was doing their best to keep traffic flowing.

See all that help? (Can you sense my sarcasm?)

An enterprising Deputy hid just up the road from the “Slow” sign, no doubt looking for someone who wasn’t going “Slow.”

The ’Vette managed to sneak on by. We did, too.

Power Tour folks are a proud bunch. While, as you saw earlier, folks will stop and help each other, there are certain unspoken rules for those loyal to their American Iron. Dodge guys don’t date Pontiac girls, for instance, and Chevy guys never accept trailer rides from a Ford.

That must really hurt. I can see a Dr. Phil episode in his future.

Lincoln is a nice town, and the folks are friendly — even when thousands of Tourers show up. Friendly folks drive great cars. Stuff like a Nickey Camaro:

Lots of motor for a plain looking car. One of about 69 built and even fewer with a 427, it’s Chicago-area dealer Nickey Chevrolet’s answer to a Yenko Camaro.

Rats are hot right now. This one

is Cadillac-powered, uniquely-grilled,

and has the radiator in the bed.

This ’63 Nova convertable went from an in-line 6 to a turbo V6

from a Grand National.

Colors are changing from what we knew as kids to more interesting combinations. This ’57 Chevy, done in silver over orange, already has that timeless look.

Speaking of orange, this orange rod is 42-inches tall,

and is amply-powered.

Green’s “in,” too.

Especially with a little blue and purple bird.

Beep, Beep!

I do pretty well with cars made after I was born. I doubt I’ll ever figure out what this is.

Any ideas, anyone?

At least I know what this is.

It’s a 1965 Marlin — a large Rambler model that the next year would find competition with the Dodge Charger.

This ’64 Impala SS looked mint inside and out,

as did this low-optioned GTO convertible.

Not everyone was enjoying the fun and frivolity, though. This guy was busy fixing damage to a rim.

On my way up to the stage, I found Chloie and her Grandpa from Cuba, Missouri.

Chloie’s been on more Power Tours than most adults I know, surviving sunburns, an accident last year to her Grandpa’s Mopar, and even his recent open-heart surgery.

They’re both doing well.

Thanks to my excellent weather forecast yesterday, Joe didn’t have much to rib me about today. And that didn’t make Joe happy.