Lebo

I had been to Lebo before, when I was working for Koss Construction on I-35 near there. It's a small town, with lots of modest houses, a few businesses, a school, a ball field, and a nice-looking mural. A few of the yards were very well-maintained, while others looked more like my own front-yard jungle.

The town was named after a U.S. cavalry officer who lived near a creek in this area. This author suspects that Capt. Lebo's surname is a corruption of the French Le Beau, which could refer either to a handsome man or, in an ironic sense, to a notably un-handsome one. (That made me giggle.)

Perhaps the best-known part of this town these days is the BETO Junction travel plaza, which has a gas station and a cafe that features enormous cinnamon rolls. (BETO is an acronym for the nearby cities of Burlington, Emporia, Topeka, and Ottowa, since the truck stop is roughly in the middle of them.)

Though we were exhausted after a long day of exploring, we were not immune to the charms of the fabled cinnamon rolls. We purchased one regular and one cinnamon caramel for tomorrow's breakfast, then got back in the van and headed up US-75 toward home and some much-needed rest.