Seconds With Steff

Once again, a little bit too late for my liking, but we pulled into the historic Lincoln Hotel in Lowden, Iowa around 8:30 last night. The caretaker, Anita, had been texting me all day and had already gone home, leaving the key under the mat for us. So we’re walking up to the front door, I’m reaching down to grab the key… and someone goes “hi there,” and I jumped out of my skin. It was the owner, Melissa — absolutely lovely. She’s originally from Los Angeles, her mom is from the area, and through a whole chain of circumstances she ended up buying this historic hotel and refinishing it beautifully. The room was so comfortable, and I will say something I’ve never said before: the bedding smelled amazing. Truly. Our heads rested on pillows in a building that’s been welcoming travelers since 1915, standing right at the junction of the Old Lincoln Highway and Hoover Highway. Its Prairie‑influenced stucco exterior, wide eaves, and front porch made it one of Lowden’s first businesses built specifically for motorists — a warm bed and a hot meal for the earliest coast‑to‑coast travelers. And somehow, more than a century later, it’s still doing exactly that.

With a good night’s sleep behind us, we were ready for a bright and early start.

We hopped in the Jeep, backed up, made it maybe 100 feet… and the low tire pressure light came on for the front passenger side…25 psi. You have to be kidding me.

I texted Anita immediately, panicking but also reminding myself that at least this car had a spare. I walked up and down Main Street looking for anything—typed “tires” and “garage” into Apple Maps—trying to figure out whether I could make it on 25 psi and how fast the leak was. I looked across the street and saw Midwest Auto Sales & Service… they opened at eight. Not a minute later, Anita texted me: “Go across the street.”

I literally stood there stalking their door until someone came in.

And then Charlie appeared—an absolute angel of auto repair. She sprang into action, took my key, and had one of the guys pull the Jeep in immediately. I had picked up a long hairy nail which they fixed as quickly as possible. Crisis averted.

One of the places I had most looked forward to, was this little area that had original brick lead up to a restored bridge… I was so excited that I actually narrated….. enjoy my idiocy…

As we made our way across Iowa, we stopped to see a very not Lincoln Highway site. Along Route 66 we’d seen a miniature Stonehenge and Carhenge… and today we got to see Cornhenge. Truly life‑altering. I don’t know who dreamed this up, but good for them.

Then we made our way to Cedar Rapids. We didn’t have a second to stop—literally not one second—but I asked Hunter to keep an eye out for a sculpture called Four Seasons, the only thing I really wanted a picture of. As we approached the city, I thought it would be smart to put it into the map… only the map couldn’t find it at all. So while Hunter was raising the camera, suddenly it was right there on our right shoulder. I don’t know how he did it. He managed to grab the picture within seconds… maybe two. It was incredible.

If you ever go to Cedar Rapids, it’s a very heavy Grant Wood town—museums, his workshop, all of it. I would’ve loved to stop, but we genuinely didn’t have the time… and with more tire problems looming, we really didn’t have the time now. I don’t want to put it into the universe that we’re due for an easier trip the rest of the way… but maybe someone else can put it in the universe for me.

One of the highlights of the entire Lincoln Highway trip was going to be seeing the Youngville Café. I knew full well it was closed—it’s only open for two and a half hours one day a week—but we still wanted to see it. Right before we approached, I put it into the directions and was grateful I did, because it’s not directly off the road. I pulled onto the little gravel road the GPS told me to take… and a man approached my window. I asked how to get to the café and he said, “Well, you go down there.” I said, “GPS says that thing,” and he goes, “Well… you know what? If you want to just go around here, go around the barn and go straight. It’s my driveway.”

GPS put me on somebody’s driveway.

A huge farm. Massive. He was kind enough to let us take his driveway to the café. We took our pictures and left the correct way… I think lol.

Belle Plaine was supposed to be a major stop. The museum was closed as was The Lincoln Café. But the big stop, the one I cared about, was the George Preston Garage. No set hours. Never open. But the history… the man… the Johnny Carson appearance… all of it. This was supposed to be the moment. After the moment, I realized I never took a picture of the left side of inside the garage, but click the link above and you can see it.

And then … because the Lincoln Highway loves drama … as we pulled up, his granddaughter Mary and her husband walked out to greet us. They try to welcome visitors whenever they can and saw us drive up. They unlocked the garage and let us in, and it was like stepping straight into a time capsule. Absolutely incredible. Built in 1912, a year before the highway was dedicated, they’re doing everything they can to preserve the building. Renovations have been slow… contractors are impossible to get and fundraising is tough, but they’re hoping to start next spring. They showed us the history, walked us out to the marker, and were just genuinely lovely people. I told them to look up Gary’s Gay Parita on Route 66 because they gave me the exact same vibe.

George Preston’s Gas Station is exactly what everyone says it is: a 1912 Lincoln Highway garage turned roadside time capsule. George himself was a full‑on character — a storyteller, a collector, the kind of person who made a stop feel like an experience. He even ended up on Johnny Carson, which tells you everything about how unforgettable he was. The family has kept the station exactly as he left it, and now, hopefully, the contractors will finally get to work their magic.

Out front of the station there was a sign for a phone‑in audio tour. You call the number, 319-213-9003, type in the stop’s code, and get a little recorded history lesson. Number 30 was the Preston Garage. Number 32 was the Tama Bridge. When we got to the bridge, I just hit redial and it recognized our phone number and asked where we were now. It was the coolest thing in the world.

The Tama Lincoln Highway Bridge is one of the most iconic structures on the entire route, the only bridge with LINCOLN HIGHWAY carved directly into its concrete railings. Built in 1915, it spans Mud Creek with those distinctive raised block letters running along both sides, making it one of the most photographed and beloved landmarks on the highway. But right now, it’s not looking its best. They’ve closed the drive‑through portion, and I really hope restoration work starts up again soon, because the whole area looked overgrown and a little forgotten. It’s still beautiful, still historic, still absolutely worth stopping for — it just deserves better than the current “we’ll get to it eventually” vibe.

Our next iconic stop was Taylor’s Maid‑Rite loose‑meat sandwiches. It has been serving loose‑meat sandwiches since the 1920s, when Iowa butcher Fred Angell created the original Maid‑Rite by seasoning ground beef and serving it loose on a bun with no patty and no sauce. After being wildly disappointed in the two Coney Island hotdog experiences that were supposedly phenomenal and missing the famous fried chicken at the Teibel’s because they’re closed on Mondays, we arrived at Taylor’s ready for redemption. And oh my goodness, redemption delivered.

I got a loose‑meat with everything — ground beef, mustard, pickles, onions on a steamed bun. Hunter got his plain because he’s Hunter. But this is now my new favorite way to eat a burger. It’s just a pile of cooked ground meat on a bun, wrapped in paper, with a spoon so you can shove the meat back in as it falls out. An interactive meal. Completely amazing. And they have pie. They have malts. They have everything. Totally lived up to the hype!

Niland’s Corner is one of those perfect Lincoln Highway clusters, a gas station and café and motel all tucked together at the edge of Colo. It dates to the 1920s and still looks wonderfully original, right down to the red pumps and the little café that feels frozen in time. This was a true crossroads stop for early travelers, a place to fuel up, grab a meal, and rest before heading west again. We hit Colo and Niland’s Corner specifically to find the spot where the Lincoln Highway meets the Jefferson Highway. We’ve been tossing around the idea of doing the Jefferson Highway someday, but the more I think about it, the less I love the idea. This drive has been challenging enough, and the Jefferson Highway map isn’t even complete. The Lincoln Highway is chaos, but at least it’s organized chaos. The Jefferson Highway feels like signing up for a scavenger hunt with half the clues missing.

In Nevada (pronounced nuh-VAY-duh) is chainsaw art of Abraham Lincoln carved out of tree stump… what more is there to say?

Heritage Park marks this meeting point, celebrating the moment where two huge pieces of American road history briefly travel together before splitting off toward completely different parts of the continent. The Lincoln Highway and the Jefferson Highway actually share the same roadway for 15.5 miles between Colo and Ames … a rare stretch where two early transcontinental highways overlap. The Jefferson Highway runs from Winnipeg to New Orleans, a north–south international route that sounds impossibly long … but it’s only about 100 miles longer than Route 66.

As daylight started to burn, we began hitting towns fast. Jefferson was fantastic — lots of cool things — but everything was closed. They do have the Mahanay Bell Tower though, and that alone made the stop worth it. The tower rises above the prairie with a tall concrete shaft and a glass‑fronted bell chamber that holds forty‑seven bells. It was completed in 1966, but the story behind it goes back to one man, Floyd Mahanay, a Jefferson native who moved away, built a successful life, and quietly left money in his will for a bell tower to be built in his hometown.

He never explained the reason. No letter, no note, no hint of what the tower meant to him. Jefferson simply received the gift and carried out his instructions, and now it’s one of the most recognizable landmarks along the Iowa stretch of the Lincoln Highway. The bells play music across town, and visitors can ride the elevator to the top for wide views of the countryside. We didn’t go up, but we were lucky enough to be there while the bells were ringing. hearing the chimes as we drove through was pretty magical.

We made one more stop before Omaha: a full-court Lakers basketball court in Carroll, Iowa. Wait… What??? In 1960, the still Minneapolis Lakers lost electrical power and radios during a blizzard. The pilots saw US 71 and landed in a cornfield near Carroll. The town and community stepped in to help and the Lakers never forgot it. So when the team later had the chance to give something back, they gifted Carroll a full Lakers‑themed court.

We cheated a little and jumped on Highway 30, which is still the Lincoln Highway but not the original 1913 alignment. But honestly… we were never getting here otherwise.

We ended the night at Crescent Moon for Reubens. The Reuben was invented across the street at The Blackstone Hotel (now Kimpton Cottonwood Hotel), but all the research said Crescent Moon’s is better.

Hold on… yes, my New Yorkers… The Reuben was invented in Omaha Nebraska! Not in NYC!!! Go think about THAT for a minute or two!!!

We got garlic parmesan wings—holy moly. The sauce was incredible and made in‑house. When we walked in, I wasn’t sure if I’d parked correctly, and the waitress actually came outside to help me. She was amazing. Hunter got a quesadilla, and she even offered to have it remade because she forgot to ask the kitchen to garnish it. I told her absolutely not. She was just that sweet.

And that’s how we ended the day… finally in Nebraska… finally fed… finally settled… after one of the longest, strangest, most unexpectedly wonderful days on the Lincoln Highway… And wait til you see where we’re staying!!!

Oh wait… sorry… did you want random pictures? Here you go! I am too tired to organize tonight, so good luck…

Unreliable Summary: Tire Trouble, Loose Meat, and The Lakers