I wish I could say that I was torn about this courthouse, but I’m not. NO. Just plain NO. It’s like there’s something especially wrong with it. Sure, the little flash of color is nice, but that’s the best thing I can say about it. It’s not aesthetically pleasing, nor is it brutally functional (which I could at least respect). It’s almost like it was specifically designed to look like, well, crap. I guess I could simply wave it off as just being the times, but I don’t know… I can’t think of any time when this would be…not this. Tragically, I found a photo/postcard of the previous courthouse:
This looks like a far more attractive building and it was there in 1970. What happened to it? And how did they decide on…? You know something? That’s a rabbit hole I have neither the time nor the interest to truly explore. Maybe one day, when my true focus (though, I’m sure for some of you it’s hard to tell the difference) is courthouses not caches…
This cache is definitely one of those where the point is the location. It was contained in a little park which was a crossing point of…
…the Oregon Trail, the Texas Trail, and the Pony Express. I could probably ramble on about the history of the trails and all that, but you all could read that yourselves. What matters, or rather mattered (past tense), was that I found what I needed and I could go. The daylight, like my adrenaline, was waning. There was still more to do. Nebraska wasn’t exactly my aim for this trip, but this has hardly been the first diversion I’ve taken on the road from primary missions. But the real reason I was here lay to the west. Extra counties are always nice, but my real work would continue in…
Geocaching While Black 
Whenever I hear Ogallala I think of Lonesome Dove (it’s where his old girlfriend lived when they were on their way to Montana). And you are right – that courthouse is hideous. I am adding that cache to the caches I would like to find one day though, just for the locations.
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