It all started with a trip to Scotland. We sought out all the obvious sightseeing stops, but also hoped to find something off the beaten path. Amongst fall festivals and ghost tours, we found ourselves on a dark side-street, barely frequented by random foot traffic. Not a sign in sight—no indication of its presence. Only by chance did we notice the stairs leading down to the underbelly of a nondescript building. A small, single window lit against the stark contrasting darkness of night the only indication of life nearby. The lone two of us locked in a room—time ticking against us—began sorting through clues and codes, trying to find the first payoff of our 60 minute journey. A fleeting 58 minutes later, we were unlocking the room door and finishing our very first escape room. Victory! Back in the states… The thoughts festered and boiled; like a plague, it consumed us. Why hadn’t we gone to one before? Did Lincoln have one yet? Did Nebraska have one yet? We had to know—we had to open one. So, we did.