(see photos)
We are spending he day today exploring around Kansas City. We first head a little east to Independence where we first spot the train station which is a good introduction to this area that was so important to the westward movement of thousands - tens of thousands - of people in the Nineteenth Century. From Lewis and Clark in 1803 to adventurous men and families headed for a better life in Oregon 25 years later, the fortune seekers headed to California to see the elephant (and find the gold) in 1849, to the homesteaders starting new lives in the midwest, and then, with the coming of the railroad, people spreading northwest, southwest and straight across the continent.
All of these stories are represented in the National Frontier Trails Museum in Independence. The icon of the expansion of the United States, Thomas Jefferson, is represented by a bust near the entrance. The icon of exploration of the Western half of the continent, Jim Bridger, is featured as a bronze statue in a niche in the exterior wall of the museum Stories and interpretive panels in the museum tell about the enthusiasm of the prospect and progress of westward expansion, the dangers and difficulties, the triumphs and tragedies, the conflicts and compromises (which some might call conquests). For trappers and mountain men, American traders and Mexican merchants, Oregon farmers and California argonauts, rural farmers and railroad barons the trails, roads and rails were vital to their successes.
Our next stop was the Harry S. Truman library and museum. While the trails museum seemed a long time ago and a long way away, the Truman library and museum seemed like yesterday. Mostly devoted to Truman's life once he succeeded Franklin Roosevelt int he White House, the events and activities described seemed very contemporary. His description on April 13, 1945, the he "felt like the the moon, the stars, and all the planets had fallen on me" certainly seemed to be a prescient expression of his 7 years in office. Exhibits of Life Magazine from his presidential term, as well as newspaper headlines, seem like a staggering load for a haberdasher from Kansas.
The museum is divided into three parts - the recreation of the White House oval office, his post-presidential office where he spent his time after he left Washington, and the museum itself. There is also a library in the building, but one needs a reason and a proposal to go in there. I suppose every presidential library is designed to show the subject in the best light possible - attempting to convince the visitor that this president had the most responsibility, the most difficult decisions, the most recalcitrant opposition, the most successful legislative agenda, the greatest compassion, the most farsightedness, and the friendliest demeanor of any president before or after. The Truman museum makes a convincing argument for President Truman's case in each of those areas.
After leaving the Truman Museum we head for one of the original River crossing a few miles away called Upper Independence. Once common route of travel for westward bound travelers was to take a steamboat up the Missouri then proceed overland to wherever they were head to the west. This site was one of the earliest landing area where steamboat passengers would disembark and manage to get there belongings up the step cliffs to start their overland journey. At one point some enterprising businessmen developed a horse drawn rail system to get the passengers and their luggage up the steep cliffs. This business did not prove to be successful, and the landing area was moved slightly up river to a more convenient location.
The final stop of the day is the Jackson County Historic Truman Courthouse. It is called the Truman Courthouse because Judge Harry S. Truman had a courtroom and office in the building. His career as a judge apparently was more concerned with civic development activities - more like a elected county government official than a trial court judge. The courthouse in under renovation at present, so we did not get to go inside, but there are a number of informative signs and monuments around the building. A bronze statue of Andrew Jackson (presented to the people of Jackson County by President Truman) adorns the front entrance, monuments marking the Oregon Trail and the Santa Fe Trail signify the importance of the city, and there is a plaque with information about the Civil War Battle of Independence - a Confederate victory, but a costly one. Losses of several Confederate military leaders turned out to be a critical loss for the Confederacy as the war played out. The three colonels, two majors, three captains, and two lieutenants lost in the Battle of Independence we significant losses that could not be easily replaced.
Sunday, June 23, 2013
Day 16 - Topeka to Kansas City - Wednesday, June 12, 2013
See photos
The landscape of Kansas is not all that different than the landscape of Nebraska. It seems a bit more varied than the oceans of cornfields and the cities of silos that seemed to define Nebraska, and as we approach the Missouri River the variety of the trails increases. In Nebraska most of the trails follow along one side or the other of the Platte River all the way into southeast Wyoming. The exception is the South Platte Trail which follows the route of the South Platte River rather than the route of the North Platte which was more popular. Also, the Pony Express Trail starts at Independence, Missouri, and connects with the other trails at Fort Kearny in Nebraska.
The trails in Kansas look more like a plate of spaghetti in the northeast section of the state. That is not too surprising since there were several different crossing points of the Missouri and once across the Missouri the trails take alternative routes to the same destination - the Platte. There are frequent markers along the roads we are on that which point out where the three major immigrant trails crossed the current paved road.
In Topeka we visit the Kansas History Center. This site houses two buildings of interest: The Kansas State History Museum and the Potawatomi Baptist Mission. The museum is a large building with exhibits detailing the history of the state. Of particular interest to me was the large doll house with amazing detail in the furnishings and decorations, and a train, consisting of the locomotive, tender car, and several passenger cars. The coal-burning locomotive is beautifully restored and looks like it is ready to join the frequent rail traffic we have seen on the plains of Wyoming, Nebraska and Kansas.
The Baptist Mission is a large stone building which served as a school house where the missionaries were trying to teach the Potawatomi children the ways of western cultures. A remnant of that effort is a native plant garden which seems to have fallen into disuse. The Museum has a lot of exhibits detailing the conflicts between the natives and the newly arriving settlers. IT was one thing for the immigrants heading west to pass through the areas where natives were living (perhaps relocated from areas tot he east), it was another for them to try to settle and claim land in the areas that the Natives Americans had either been given, or had which had been their historical hoe. One of the exhibits describes the efforts by General William Tecumseh Sherman, of Civil War and California fame, to move the Potawatomi tribe to Florida. Sherman was in charge of the army west of the Missouri after the Civil War. While he thought that the Native Americans were a serious threat, he also thought that many of the companies and settlers in the area were taking advantage of the presence of the Indians to try to make a profit by supplying the military protection they were asking for, but did not really need. At the same times, companies like Wells Fargo that held various government contracts for roads of other services were claiming, falsely according to Sherman, that the threats posed by the Indians were interfering with their ability to satisfy their contractual obligations. Sherman was trying to manage this complicated situation while, at the same time, making sure that the potential of conflicts with the Native Americans did not occur.
A quote attributed to Sherman in one of the displays is to the effect that it would be necessary to force the Potawatomies to move to Florida to teach them a lesson.
Our first stop as we leave Topeka in Olathe - the first stop of the pioneers as they crossed the Missouri to begin the trek west. The river crossing may have been arduous, but the first night looks to have been relaxing in a nice area with a single tree - an elm tree hence the name of the Lone Elm campground. A story we have seen suggests that not too long after the first crossing of the river in this location the lone elm was chopped down by travelers looking for a little fuel. So there is no longer a lone elm, but more trees and probably a nicer spot for camping that is was for most of the 1850s, at least.
We then proceed south on Interstate 35 to Gardner's Junction - where the Santa Fe and Oregon trails separate. The Santa Fe trail heads southwest through the western tip of the Oklahoma panhandle and on into New Mexico. The Oregon trail heads northwest toward the Platte. Or course, by the early days of the Oregon Trail, 1840 or so, the Santa Fe trail was well worn by traders who had traveled to and from Mexico beginning ion the 1820s after Mexico won its independence from Spain and trade restriction between the U.S. and Mexico were relaxed. As we were taking pictures at the marker for Gardner's Junction this huge piece of farm equipment was doing something in the surrounding field. I don't know if it was planting, tilling, plowing, or what. The field did not look much different to this city-boy's eye after the machine had passed over a section of the field that before.
We proceed from St. Mary's on in to Kansas City, Missouri. The trail guide book leads us to a city park in where there is now a swimming pool that is well populated on the warm June afternoon we are there. We wander around the area where a stone bridge crosses the river. We walked along the tail on the river bank and observed on the other side a residential neighborhood with yards with children's play sets and mowed lawns. I wonder of the people living there can image a line of wagons queued up to cross the river at that same location?
The landscape of Kansas is not all that different than the landscape of Nebraska. It seems a bit more varied than the oceans of cornfields and the cities of silos that seemed to define Nebraska, and as we approach the Missouri River the variety of the trails increases. In Nebraska most of the trails follow along one side or the other of the Platte River all the way into southeast Wyoming. The exception is the South Platte Trail which follows the route of the South Platte River rather than the route of the North Platte which was more popular. Also, the Pony Express Trail starts at Independence, Missouri, and connects with the other trails at Fort Kearny in Nebraska.
The trails in Kansas look more like a plate of spaghetti in the northeast section of the state. That is not too surprising since there were several different crossing points of the Missouri and once across the Missouri the trails take alternative routes to the same destination - the Platte. There are frequent markers along the roads we are on that which point out where the three major immigrant trails crossed the current paved road.
In Topeka we visit the Kansas History Center. This site houses two buildings of interest: The Kansas State History Museum and the Potawatomi Baptist Mission. The museum is a large building with exhibits detailing the history of the state. Of particular interest to me was the large doll house with amazing detail in the furnishings and decorations, and a train, consisting of the locomotive, tender car, and several passenger cars. The coal-burning locomotive is beautifully restored and looks like it is ready to join the frequent rail traffic we have seen on the plains of Wyoming, Nebraska and Kansas.
The Baptist Mission is a large stone building which served as a school house where the missionaries were trying to teach the Potawatomi children the ways of western cultures. A remnant of that effort is a native plant garden which seems to have fallen into disuse. The Museum has a lot of exhibits detailing the conflicts between the natives and the newly arriving settlers. IT was one thing for the immigrants heading west to pass through the areas where natives were living (perhaps relocated from areas tot he east), it was another for them to try to settle and claim land in the areas that the Natives Americans had either been given, or had which had been their historical hoe. One of the exhibits describes the efforts by General William Tecumseh Sherman, of Civil War and California fame, to move the Potawatomi tribe to Florida. Sherman was in charge of the army west of the Missouri after the Civil War. While he thought that the Native Americans were a serious threat, he also thought that many of the companies and settlers in the area were taking advantage of the presence of the Indians to try to make a profit by supplying the military protection they were asking for, but did not really need. At the same times, companies like Wells Fargo that held various government contracts for roads of other services were claiming, falsely according to Sherman, that the threats posed by the Indians were interfering with their ability to satisfy their contractual obligations. Sherman was trying to manage this complicated situation while, at the same time, making sure that the potential of conflicts with the Native Americans did not occur.
A quote attributed to Sherman in one of the displays is to the effect that it would be necessary to force the Potawatomies to move to Florida to teach them a lesson.
Our first stop as we leave Topeka in Olathe - the first stop of the pioneers as they crossed the Missouri to begin the trek west. The river crossing may have been arduous, but the first night looks to have been relaxing in a nice area with a single tree - an elm tree hence the name of the Lone Elm campground. A story we have seen suggests that not too long after the first crossing of the river in this location the lone elm was chopped down by travelers looking for a little fuel. So there is no longer a lone elm, but more trees and probably a nicer spot for camping that is was for most of the 1850s, at least.
We then proceed south on Interstate 35 to Gardner's Junction - where the Santa Fe and Oregon trails separate. The Santa Fe trail heads southwest through the western tip of the Oklahoma panhandle and on into New Mexico. The Oregon trail heads northwest toward the Platte. Or course, by the early days of the Oregon Trail, 1840 or so, the Santa Fe trail was well worn by traders who had traveled to and from Mexico beginning ion the 1820s after Mexico won its independence from Spain and trade restriction between the U.S. and Mexico were relaxed. As we were taking pictures at the marker for Gardner's Junction this huge piece of farm equipment was doing something in the surrounding field. I don't know if it was planting, tilling, plowing, or what. The field did not look much different to this city-boy's eye after the machine had passed over a section of the field that before.
We proceed from St. Mary's on in to Kansas City, Missouri. The trail guide book leads us to a city park in where there is now a swimming pool that is well populated on the warm June afternoon we are there. We wander around the area where a stone bridge crosses the river. We walked along the tail on the river bank and observed on the other side a residential neighborhood with yards with children's play sets and mowed lawns. I wonder of the people living there can image a line of wagons queued up to cross the river at that same location?
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
Day 15 -- Beatrice to Topeka, Kansas -- Tuesday, June 11, 2013
Click for photos
Our first stop this morning is the Homestead Museum in Beatrice. This museum is dedicated to the homestead process int he US that resulted in over 270 billion acres of government land (the government claimed over a billion acres of land) being given away. With the exception of Texas, Hawaii and most of the original 13 states, land in every state of the US was available for homesteading. The original Homestead Act allowed a family to claim 320 acres, and required them to build a house and develop some type of agricultural operation with five years of filing the original claim. When they had "proved up" their claim they could file for a patent that gave them title to the land.
It is an interesting question of why Texas was excluded from homesteading. Presumably, when Texas became part of the United States there was some agreement that land in Texas would not be owned by the United States but would remain the property of Texas and perhaps of private landowners of the time. This is different from the situation in other western states which became part of the US under the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo which recognized the ownership of land granted by the Spanish or Mexican government land grants, but did not recognize any other claim to lands, so all the lands covered by the treaty became part of US government land.
The Homestead Museum has many interesting artifacts illustrating the attempts of the homesteaders to develop their land, and survive on it. A substantial percentage of the homesteaders were unsuccessful in finally getting a patent for their land - some probably tried but failed, some probably tried but could not satisfy the requirement of the law, some probably just gave up, and some moved on as the western expansion continued.
The museum contains everything from old time fire fighting equipment, to farm implements, to ephemera from local citizens. It just shows what you can do if instead of a small closet or large basement, you have a very large barn to accumulate stuff from your own life but also from the lives of all of your neighbors. Every neighborhood should have such a facility - it is fascinating.
We leave the Homestead Museum and proceed southeasterly into Kansas. Our first stop is Marshall's Ferry in Marysville where a replica of a rope ferry which was originally located in this area has been constructed. Located on one of the three rivers that immigrants had to cross in this area, the Big Blue River, .rope ferry was connected to a pulley along a rope stretched from one bank to the other. The large wheel in the center of the ferry allowed the rope to be adjusted so that the current and tension on the rope would work in concert to guide the boat from one side of the river to the other. Sing the ferry was an expense that many of the travelers could not afford - at this site and others along the various routes west. Many people tried to cross without resorting to the ferry that was available, and many lives were lost in the process. Grave sites along river crossings attest to the difficulty in getting a wagon, it load, and the animals and people across the river safely.
Scott's Spring, in Westmoreland, is out next stop. This was a favorite rest stop for the travelers, and the roadside stop has a nice replica of a covered wagon and Ox and an inventory of supplies necessary for a family of four - 2400 pounds to pack into the wagon to get to Oregon.
Our next stop is in St. Marys, Kansas, at what is called the Indian Pay Station Historic Site and Monument. Another memorial to the long and arduous between the immigrants from Europe (the politically correct designation now is "Euro-Americans") and the Native Americans as the westward expansion of the United States continued. This particular site involved the Potawatomi Indians who had been moved to this area from their original homelands in the the upper Midwest area and given land in Kansas. As frequently happened it was not too long before the land they were on in Kansas desired by the Euro-Americans headed west, so the Potawatomi were offered payment for their lands in Kansas if they would agree to move. The Indian agency was set up in the building which now houses the museum and payment was made to the Indians who agreed to move. We arrived at the museum at the normal closing time, but a woman was working in the garden an agreed to show us around. It turned out that she is the chief cook and bottle washer of the museum so we got an depth look at the Pay Station - a rather rustic stone building - and the adjacent barn in which she, and a couple of her predecessors, have accumulated a large amount of material from the local community.
We proceed from here to Topeka for the night.
Our first stop this morning is the Homestead Museum in Beatrice. This museum is dedicated to the homestead process int he US that resulted in over 270 billion acres of government land (the government claimed over a billion acres of land) being given away. With the exception of Texas, Hawaii and most of the original 13 states, land in every state of the US was available for homesteading. The original Homestead Act allowed a family to claim 320 acres, and required them to build a house and develop some type of agricultural operation with five years of filing the original claim. When they had "proved up" their claim they could file for a patent that gave them title to the land.
It is an interesting question of why Texas was excluded from homesteading. Presumably, when Texas became part of the United States there was some agreement that land in Texas would not be owned by the United States but would remain the property of Texas and perhaps of private landowners of the time. This is different from the situation in other western states which became part of the US under the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo which recognized the ownership of land granted by the Spanish or Mexican government land grants, but did not recognize any other claim to lands, so all the lands covered by the treaty became part of US government land.
The Homestead Museum has many interesting artifacts illustrating the attempts of the homesteaders to develop their land, and survive on it. A substantial percentage of the homesteaders were unsuccessful in finally getting a patent for their land - some probably tried but failed, some probably tried but could not satisfy the requirement of the law, some probably just gave up, and some moved on as the western expansion continued.
The museum contains everything from old time fire fighting equipment, to farm implements, to ephemera from local citizens. It just shows what you can do if instead of a small closet or large basement, you have a very large barn to accumulate stuff from your own life but also from the lives of all of your neighbors. Every neighborhood should have such a facility - it is fascinating.
We leave the Homestead Museum and proceed southeasterly into Kansas. Our first stop is Marshall's Ferry in Marysville where a replica of a rope ferry which was originally located in this area has been constructed. Located on one of the three rivers that immigrants had to cross in this area, the Big Blue River, .rope ferry was connected to a pulley along a rope stretched from one bank to the other. The large wheel in the center of the ferry allowed the rope to be adjusted so that the current and tension on the rope would work in concert to guide the boat from one side of the river to the other. Sing the ferry was an expense that many of the travelers could not afford - at this site and others along the various routes west. Many people tried to cross without resorting to the ferry that was available, and many lives were lost in the process. Grave sites along river crossings attest to the difficulty in getting a wagon, it load, and the animals and people across the river safely.
Scott's Spring, in Westmoreland, is out next stop. This was a favorite rest stop for the travelers, and the roadside stop has a nice replica of a covered wagon and Ox and an inventory of supplies necessary for a family of four - 2400 pounds to pack into the wagon to get to Oregon.
Our next stop is in St. Marys, Kansas, at what is called the Indian Pay Station Historic Site and Monument. Another memorial to the long and arduous between the immigrants from Europe (the politically correct designation now is "Euro-Americans") and the Native Americans as the westward expansion of the United States continued. This particular site involved the Potawatomi Indians who had been moved to this area from their original homelands in the the upper Midwest area and given land in Kansas. As frequently happened it was not too long before the land they were on in Kansas desired by the Euro-Americans headed west, so the Potawatomi were offered payment for their lands in Kansas if they would agree to move. The Indian agency was set up in the building which now houses the museum and payment was made to the Indians who agreed to move. We arrived at the museum at the normal closing time, but a woman was working in the garden an agreed to show us around. It turned out that she is the chief cook and bottle washer of the museum so we got an depth look at the Pay Station - a rather rustic stone building - and the adjacent barn in which she, and a couple of her predecessors, have accumulated a large amount of material from the local community.
We proceed from here to Topeka for the night.
Sunday, June 16, 2013
Day 14 -- Ft. Kearney to Beatrice -- Monday, June 10, 2013
See photos
We camped at the State Park near Ft. Kearney last night. It was a very large camp ground amidst several small lakes. Adjacent to some of the lakes was a small cabinet in stilts at the water's edge. The doors at each end wee louvered, presumably to adjust air flow through the cabinet. There was an electrical socket inside and some two pieces of black tubing that disappeared into the ground under the cabinet. We speculate that this may be something for drying fish, or ?? We did not see anyone we could ask. The the morning we took off to find the grave sight of Mary Haile which is located a few miles of the paved road. As we traveled to the grave site we saw these huge piles of what appears to be sawdust, some of which had the ends of logs exposed with most of the log buried in the sawdust - another mystery. We have no idea what this is for. Mulch? Press board? Decoration?
As we drove along we saw some typical country sights, including the inevitable automobile and farm equipment graveyard. This is such a staple of agricultural economy that it is hardly deserving of a photograph because 100 yards from this rusty assemblage was a very nice, modern house with several relatively new outbuildings and vehicles parked around. But I guess you never know when you'll need the piston rod from the '49 Chevy to keep the farm in operation.
We found the grave site of Susan Haile - one of the thousands of tragic stories along the trail. Susan was a 35 year old mother of 6 children who died at this location. According to the markings on her gravestone, she died after eating water that had been poisoned by the Indians. Maybe, but I'm betting on cholera - the scourge of the overland trails. With thousands of people and more thousands of animals traversing the same pathways, cholera was an ever present danger. Stories abound of people becoming violently ill and dying within a few hours. There was not much that could be done - people did not understand the nature of the bacterial infection, nor how it was spread. Calomel, bleeding, and various patent medicine potions were all that could be offered when there wasa, by chance, a physician available. It seems to me more likely that cholera was Mary Haile's enemy - not the Indians.
Mary's children were adopted by a relative who was on the same wagon train, and apparently all arrived safely in Oregon after the death of their mother.
As we wondered around in these rather remote roads we saw some interesting sights. I was driving and at one point I looked in the rear view mirror and saw a HOUSE coming at me from behind - with a tow truck leading the way. I pulled well to the side of the road and there were not one, but two, houses being moved down this rural road. In the same area, we saw a house that looked like something right out of the Deliverance, including the Confederate flag - I decide not to stop and get their view on the current political situation.
We found another site we were looking for in the area - the site of the Smith-Simonton attack. In the attack in 1864, 6 teamsters taking a group of wagons along the Oregon trail to Denver were killed, apparently by marauding Indians. The Indians were taking advantage of the US Army's involvement in the Civil War to make an attempt to drive the newcomers from their lands. This situation, and other attacks during the period, are described on a Oregon Trail marker in the area. The trail in this area is also the Pony Express route and the riders are remembered in some metal silhouettes on the hilltops in the area.
As we contiues east through the land of cornfields and silos we fouind ourselves, not entirely by accident, in Dechler, Kansas. I was lunch time, so I went across the street to a place called the Bar & Grill. When I walked through the door I almost caused serious injuries to the old boys sitting at the bar and some others playing cards at a table. They turned around so quickly I was afraid there would be a sprained neck or a fall from the bar stool. They stared. I said, "A stranger just walked in." They chorused."Yup." Luckily the bar is right next to the Rustler, the Dechler weekly newspaper, so these strange events could be widely reported for the edification of the natives.
I inquired if it might be possible to get a meal. They said, "We don't have food." I wondered why then they had, or said they had a grill, but did not ask. They said they used to have a cafe in town, but, after some discussion, the general consensus was that it had closed, and moved to Circle J (or some such name) gas station "on the highway."
So we continued on to Beatrice (pronounced Bee-a'- trice (the "a"as is "ant")where we found a campground and spent the night.
We camped at the State Park near Ft. Kearney last night. It was a very large camp ground amidst several small lakes. Adjacent to some of the lakes was a small cabinet in stilts at the water's edge. The doors at each end wee louvered, presumably to adjust air flow through the cabinet. There was an electrical socket inside and some two pieces of black tubing that disappeared into the ground under the cabinet. We speculate that this may be something for drying fish, or ?? We did not see anyone we could ask. The the morning we took off to find the grave sight of Mary Haile which is located a few miles of the paved road. As we traveled to the grave site we saw these huge piles of what appears to be sawdust, some of which had the ends of logs exposed with most of the log buried in the sawdust - another mystery. We have no idea what this is for. Mulch? Press board? Decoration?
As we drove along we saw some typical country sights, including the inevitable automobile and farm equipment graveyard. This is such a staple of agricultural economy that it is hardly deserving of a photograph because 100 yards from this rusty assemblage was a very nice, modern house with several relatively new outbuildings and vehicles parked around. But I guess you never know when you'll need the piston rod from the '49 Chevy to keep the farm in operation.
We found the grave site of Susan Haile - one of the thousands of tragic stories along the trail. Susan was a 35 year old mother of 6 children who died at this location. According to the markings on her gravestone, she died after eating water that had been poisoned by the Indians. Maybe, but I'm betting on cholera - the scourge of the overland trails. With thousands of people and more thousands of animals traversing the same pathways, cholera was an ever present danger. Stories abound of people becoming violently ill and dying within a few hours. There was not much that could be done - people did not understand the nature of the bacterial infection, nor how it was spread. Calomel, bleeding, and various patent medicine potions were all that could be offered when there wasa, by chance, a physician available. It seems to me more likely that cholera was Mary Haile's enemy - not the Indians.
Mary's children were adopted by a relative who was on the same wagon train, and apparently all arrived safely in Oregon after the death of their mother.
As we wondered around in these rather remote roads we saw some interesting sights. I was driving and at one point I looked in the rear view mirror and saw a HOUSE coming at me from behind - with a tow truck leading the way. I pulled well to the side of the road and there were not one, but two, houses being moved down this rural road. In the same area, we saw a house that looked like something right out of the Deliverance, including the Confederate flag - I decide not to stop and get their view on the current political situation.
We found another site we were looking for in the area - the site of the Smith-Simonton attack. In the attack in 1864, 6 teamsters taking a group of wagons along the Oregon trail to Denver were killed, apparently by marauding Indians. The Indians were taking advantage of the US Army's involvement in the Civil War to make an attempt to drive the newcomers from their lands. This situation, and other attacks during the period, are described on a Oregon Trail marker in the area. The trail in this area is also the Pony Express route and the riders are remembered in some metal silhouettes on the hilltops in the area.
As we contiues east through the land of cornfields and silos we fouind ourselves, not entirely by accident, in Dechler, Kansas. I was lunch time, so I went across the street to a place called the Bar & Grill. When I walked through the door I almost caused serious injuries to the old boys sitting at the bar and some others playing cards at a table. They turned around so quickly I was afraid there would be a sprained neck or a fall from the bar stool. They stared. I said, "A stranger just walked in." They chorused."Yup." Luckily the bar is right next to the Rustler, the Dechler weekly newspaper, so these strange events could be widely reported for the edification of the natives.
I inquired if it might be possible to get a meal. They said, "We don't have food." I wondered why then they had, or said they had a grill, but did not ask. They said they used to have a cafe in town, but, after some discussion, the general consensus was that it had closed, and moved to Circle J (or some such name) gas station "on the highway."
So we continued on to Beatrice (pronounced Bee-a'- trice (the "a"as is "ant")where we found a campground and spent the night.
Day 12 -- Glendo, Wyoming to Scott's Bluff, Nebraska -- Saturday June 8, 2013
See photos
After a stormy night which finally drove me inside the van we left Glendo Reservoir with its primitive play structure for toddlers and drove around the lake a little to see some the the large lake that seems to be in the process of filling. As we continued our drive east we are following the rote of four different trails: The Oregon Trail, The California Trail, the Mormon Immigrant Trail, and the Pony Express Trail.
Marker A18 in the trail guide is called Cold Springs and Rifle Pit Hill. This area was a popular campsite along the trail due to the availability of water and grass for the animals. Ruts from wagon trains are well worn into the side of the hill. Apparently there were depressions in the earth near the top of the ridge with stone walls long the rims. There are believed to be rifle pits for the use of soldiers who were protecting the wagon trains. The site of these pits is now on private property and access is restricted. It is worth noting that there are a number of areas whee the trails cross private lands. The NTP had documented these areas and found out some facts about them, but the are not all accessible - some require advanced permission, and some are open to the public. The sites that are on government land - generally state, National Park, Bureau of Land Management, or National Forest are open to the public.
At a rest stop at near the town of Guernsey the interpretive signs explained the mission of the army to protect the travelers heading through Indian country. A number of battles were fought between the army and Indians (Sioux, Cheyenne, Arapaho, Gros Ventre, and others) in this area. A umber of soldiers and an unknown number of Indians were killed in these battles, one such being Lt. Caspar Collins. Lt. Collins' father was an army officer after whom another Fort Collins had been named so the new fort was designated Fort Caspar - the city of Casper, Wyoming, is on the site of Fort Caspar (and why the spelling was changed no one seems to know).
This information was found at Ft. Laramie - the Fort is well preserved as a National Historic Landmark, and has an excellent museum with interesting grounds. Thee are many interesting exhibits detailing he conflicts with the native residents of the area and travelers passing through on their way to Oregon.
One such story is of the young Indian woman, Mni Akuwin, the daughter of Chief Spotted Tail. She had been a witness to an 1854 Indian vs. Army battles and had become interested in the ways of the White soldiers. She spent a lot of time around the Forts, and when she died she requested to be buried at the Fort. Her request was granted and with due ceremony her body was buried in the traditional manner on a raised platform with various artifacts, including the heads of her two favorite ponies, to be with he in the next world. In 1876 her relatives requested that she be reburied on their reservation, so he remains ere moved. But then in 2005 her relatives asked that her remains be returned to place where her family was buried at Fort Laramie, and that was done. I was touched by the story as one more in the long saga of the relations between the newcomers to this land and the people who call it their home.
Our next stop was Register Cliff. This rocky outcropping, A16 in the trail guide, served as a landmark for the travelers headed west, and an opportunity for them, and for those who have come o the site more recently, the record there passage in stone. Unfortunately for those who expected to be memorialized for all time by their art work, the rather soft rock has suffered the consequences of wind, lichens, and later travelers so some of the earlier efforts have been obliterated. Some effort has been made by means of a chain link fence to protect the areas where there are good 19th Century names, but he more recent markers are overwritten and otherwise damaged. As those who have done the cave drawings in France apparently realized it is better for future generation to do your artwork in dark caves with no lighting. At least they are available for later researches to wax poetical about the artistic merits of prehistoric teenagers.
After leaving Register Rock it was beyond lunch time so we entered the small town of Lingle, Wyoming, looking for a place to tide us over until evening. Grandpa Chuy's establishment seemed to be a likely candidate, so walked in, were invited to sit anywhere (of which there was quite a bit), and provided with a menu. Chuck decided that among the gourmet choices presented by the menu the "green chili with meat" seemed like it was, at least, something to inquire about.
"Is the 'green chili with meat' like Chili verde?" he inquired of the waitress.
"No. it's like chili with. . .you know. . .uh. . like. . .", she hesitatingly replied.
Sensing that the young lady was a little out of her depth, a man who I assume is the owner (he did not look like Grandpa Chuy, rather more like cowboy Bob) came up and said, "Do you have a question, sir?"
Chuck asked again, "I just want to know if the green chili with meat is like chile verde?"
"No, it's like green chili with meat," was the expanded explanation from Grandpa Chuy.
Chuck gave up. "OK, I'll have that."
Well, it turned that the grayish-green gruel that momentarily appeared from the kitchen more had Chuck than Chuck had it. The van's supply of all variety of indigestion medications was soon exhausted. Chuck said that the dish was nothing like he had ever seen or eaten before (and remember he just got back from Southeast Asia).
Our final stops for the day were Scott's Bluff and Chimney. Both of these landmarks were well document to lead the way to South Pass, which we did not visit on our trip. Both of these places wee visible for many miles, some say 50 to 100 miles, from the very flat prairie. As we were photographing chimney rock, two long freight trains came by, both headed in the same direction on parallel tracks. It looked like a race.
After that, we hit the road again.
After a stormy night which finally drove me inside the van we left Glendo Reservoir with its primitive play structure for toddlers and drove around the lake a little to see some the the large lake that seems to be in the process of filling. As we continued our drive east we are following the rote of four different trails: The Oregon Trail, The California Trail, the Mormon Immigrant Trail, and the Pony Express Trail.
Marker A18 in the trail guide is called Cold Springs and Rifle Pit Hill. This area was a popular campsite along the trail due to the availability of water and grass for the animals. Ruts from wagon trains are well worn into the side of the hill. Apparently there were depressions in the earth near the top of the ridge with stone walls long the rims. There are believed to be rifle pits for the use of soldiers who were protecting the wagon trains. The site of these pits is now on private property and access is restricted. It is worth noting that there are a number of areas whee the trails cross private lands. The NTP had documented these areas and found out some facts about them, but the are not all accessible - some require advanced permission, and some are open to the public. The sites that are on government land - generally state, National Park, Bureau of Land Management, or National Forest are open to the public.
At a rest stop at near the town of Guernsey the interpretive signs explained the mission of the army to protect the travelers heading through Indian country. A number of battles were fought between the army and Indians (Sioux, Cheyenne, Arapaho, Gros Ventre, and others) in this area. A umber of soldiers and an unknown number of Indians were killed in these battles, one such being Lt. Caspar Collins. Lt. Collins' father was an army officer after whom another Fort Collins had been named so the new fort was designated Fort Caspar - the city of Casper, Wyoming, is on the site of Fort Caspar (and why the spelling was changed no one seems to know).
This information was found at Ft. Laramie - the Fort is well preserved as a National Historic Landmark, and has an excellent museum with interesting grounds. Thee are many interesting exhibits detailing he conflicts with the native residents of the area and travelers passing through on their way to Oregon.
One such story is of the young Indian woman, Mni Akuwin, the daughter of Chief Spotted Tail. She had been a witness to an 1854 Indian vs. Army battles and had become interested in the ways of the White soldiers. She spent a lot of time around the Forts, and when she died she requested to be buried at the Fort. Her request was granted and with due ceremony her body was buried in the traditional manner on a raised platform with various artifacts, including the heads of her two favorite ponies, to be with he in the next world. In 1876 her relatives requested that she be reburied on their reservation, so he remains ere moved. But then in 2005 her relatives asked that her remains be returned to place where her family was buried at Fort Laramie, and that was done. I was touched by the story as one more in the long saga of the relations between the newcomers to this land and the people who call it their home.
Our next stop was Register Cliff. This rocky outcropping, A16 in the trail guide, served as a landmark for the travelers headed west, and an opportunity for them, and for those who have come o the site more recently, the record there passage in stone. Unfortunately for those who expected to be memorialized for all time by their art work, the rather soft rock has suffered the consequences of wind, lichens, and later travelers so some of the earlier efforts have been obliterated. Some effort has been made by means of a chain link fence to protect the areas where there are good 19th Century names, but he more recent markers are overwritten and otherwise damaged. As those who have done the cave drawings in France apparently realized it is better for future generation to do your artwork in dark caves with no lighting. At least they are available for later researches to wax poetical about the artistic merits of prehistoric teenagers.
After leaving Register Rock it was beyond lunch time so we entered the small town of Lingle, Wyoming, looking for a place to tide us over until evening. Grandpa Chuy's establishment seemed to be a likely candidate, so walked in, were invited to sit anywhere (of which there was quite a bit), and provided with a menu. Chuck decided that among the gourmet choices presented by the menu the "green chili with meat" seemed like it was, at least, something to inquire about.
"Is the 'green chili with meat' like Chili verde?" he inquired of the waitress.
"No. it's like chili with. . .you know. . .uh. . like. . .", she hesitatingly replied.
Sensing that the young lady was a little out of her depth, a man who I assume is the owner (he did not look like Grandpa Chuy, rather more like cowboy Bob) came up and said, "Do you have a question, sir?"
Chuck asked again, "I just want to know if the green chili with meat is like chile verde?"
"No, it's like green chili with meat," was the expanded explanation from Grandpa Chuy.
Chuck gave up. "OK, I'll have that."
Well, it turned that the grayish-green gruel that momentarily appeared from the kitchen more had Chuck than Chuck had it. The van's supply of all variety of indigestion medications was soon exhausted. Chuck said that the dish was nothing like he had ever seen or eaten before (and remember he just got back from Southeast Asia).
Our final stops for the day were Scott's Bluff and Chimney. Both of these landmarks were well document to lead the way to South Pass, which we did not visit on our trip. Both of these places wee visible for many miles, some say 50 to 100 miles, from the very flat prairie. As we were photographing chimney rock, two long freight trains came by, both headed in the same direction on parallel tracks. It looked like a race.
After that, we hit the road again.
Friday, June 14, 2013
Day 11 -- Rawlins to Glendo, Wyoming -- Friday June 7, 2013
On road from Rawlins to check out the four Oregon Trail way
points that we missed yesterday. The
drive to the first way point, Independence Rock, was beautiful. The hills are green, antelope are busy
harvesting the greens, the sky is blue and the clouds are high.
We are beginning to see more evidence of the four different
trails that followed the same path, at least up to the Parting of the Ways and
Hastings Cut-off. These four groups are the people going to Oregon, Brigham’s
Young Mormon Pioneer Party headed north to Salt Lake City, the people going to
California (after 1848) and, a little later on in 1860, the Pony Express. All of these events are well memorialized
along the portion of the trail that we will be following for the next several
days.
As we travel north and east from Rawlins we are in the Big
Sky Country that is the stuff of John Wayne movies, Louis L’Amour novels, and
much Western music. Whether or not the
emigrants in 1850 were as enamored of the romance and adventure as we have
become 150 years later is a good question.
There are many quotes along the trails on highway markers and in the visitor’s centers that we have visited. There are complaints of the a tedium and boredom of the same thing day after day – up at daybreak, fixing breakfast, yoking the oxen, then walking mile after dreary mile through sagebrush and sand. There are few trees, fewer sources for fresh water, little food for the humans and, very importantly, grass for the animals is hard to come by.
There are many quotes along the trails on highway markers and in the visitor’s centers that we have visited. There are complaints of the a tedium and boredom of the same thing day after day – up at daybreak, fixing breakfast, yoking the oxen, then walking mile after dreary mile through sagebrush and sand. There are few trees, fewer sources for fresh water, little food for the humans and, very importantly, grass for the animals is hard to come by.
We stop first at Independence Rock, a significant way point
along the route. The name comes,
according to legend at least, from the fact that a group of travelers stopped
there on July 4 and thus the name stuck.
Rock formations such as these are visible for miles across the flat
plains and serve as navigation way points for the wagon trains. As we pulled in to the Independence Rock site
we saw a group of people gathered around a covered wagon there, and a number of
cars parked along the side of the parking area.
The cars bore Utah license plates, and given the fact that most of the
people in the group were dressed, more or less, in 19th Century closing I
surmised thy were on some kind of an excursion.
Subsequently, I noted a bumper sticker on one of the cars that identified
the group as a group of Mormons who were following the Mormon Trail –
presumably to remember how the first Mormons came to Salt Lake.
A much smaller rock outcropping, separated from Independence
Rock and a bit further east is known as Overlook Rock because one of the
travelers who climbed to the top aid that you could over look the whole area
from that vantage point.
Independence Rock was one of the several places along the
trail where travelers would often inscribe their names on the rock to record their
passage. Some of those inscriptions are
still visible, and some are of more recent vintage. The soft sandstone is susceptible to erosion
by wind, degradation by lichens, and defacement by idiots.
After Independence Rock we headed for the visitors center
in Casper, Wyoming. As we drove up we
noted a log cabin was being constructed on the site with a little help for some
modern conveniences. It would have been
nice to see some of the college students from the nearby campus pitch in and
replace diesel power with muscle power.
The visitors center was, I thought, rather over the top, but there were
parts that were very interesting.
Especially the parts dealing with the conflicts with the Natives in the
Area. These conflicts are becoming more
prevalent, at least as the story is being told, as we move east Since we had recently been in Northeast
Oregon, the traditional home of the Nez Perce, I was interested in the story on
their banishment to Oklahoma by General Sherman. Like many of these conflicts
there are two sides to every story, and people with various points of view are
found on both sides of these stories.
One of the stories about the conflict in the area that was told in the museum bays was of the ambush of and army supply train at Platte Creek. In this ambush several American soldiers were apparently killed out right, but the commander of the supply train, Lt. Caspar Collins was initially wounded, but succumbed to his injuries.
One of the stories about the conflict in the area that was told in the museum bays was of the ambush of and army supply train at Platte Creek. In this ambush several American soldiers were apparently killed out right, but the commander of the supply train, Lt. Caspar Collins was initially wounded, but succumbed to his injuries.
It seems like the story is repeated over and over: The Army
and settlers in the area in which they come into contact with Native Americans try
to reach accommodation with the natives, whether it be to pass through the area
on their way to Oregon or California, of whether they plan to try to settle in
the area. On the other side, some of the
Native Americans are cordial to the people passing through and tolerant,
perhaps with resignation of the inevitable, of the newcomers. Of course, in the course of tens of thousands
of people passing through there are confrontations that are not always resolved
peacefully. When that happens there is
retribution revenge. Neither the Natives nor the the newcomers are
innocent in this process.
From then visitors center we continue our journey and spend
the night in a campground at Glendo reservoir, a area being developed along the Platte River in Eastern Wyoming.
There are many boats pulling into the area for the weekend as we arrive
on Friday night. We find a camping spot
and have a light supper. The weather is a
little questionable and I woke up about 4:30 AM by a pretty loud windstorm
and a light rain. The wind makes a very
loud noise as is blows through the trees. I hunker down in my sleeping bay for
as long as I can stand it, then I gather up my slightly damp clothes, sleeping
bag, and foam mattress and retreat to the van.
I guess I would not have made a good traveler in 1850.
Thursday, June 13, 2013
Day 13 -- Ogallala to Ft. Kearney -- Sunday June 9, 2013
Click for photos
We left Ogallala and drove a bit off the beaten track this
morning. Stop D8 in the Nebraska driving
guide is supposedly where the Mormon immigrant wagon train crossed over the
hill. The wagons travel pretty directly up and down the on hills because they
are prone to tip over if they lean too much.
In this area there are several swales that can be identified marking
areas where the wagons traveled over the top of the hill and down into the next
valley. The signage here suggests that
even though these trails were supposed to have been made by a Mormon wagon
train, it is probable that the Mormons instead used a slightly different route.
It is not clear why there is this discrepancy in the information other than
differences in personal recollection, local legend, and contemporary
documentation. With the exception of some fence lines and the occasional power
line this area seems to be little changed from what it would have been like for
the travelers in 1850.
As we have follow the trail route along the Platte River there are a number of markers where wagon trails are visible very near to the modern highway. One of the most interesting is near Sutherland, Nebraska, where the remnants of the trail are marked by round hoops of iron which represent the tires of the wagons that traveled in this area. As you look along the swales marked by the tires you can look south to current farm lands and, in the distance, some silos. Silos are ever present features in the cornfields of Nebraska - almost as common as the cornfields themselves. Looking to the north one sees the freeway (Interstate 80) with 18 wheeled “wagons” going a bit faster than a team of 8 oxen.
From here we follow US Highway 30, which in this area
closely follows US Interstate 80, to the little town of Gothenburg. In the town
park in this beautiful little town is a relocated Pony Express station. Although the trail guide expresses some doubt
that this was an actual pony express station, the man who was sitting in the
station assured us that as far as he is concerned this is a genuine Pony
Express station. It might have been used
at some times for other purposes, but at one point in it life time is WAS used
by the Pony Express.
There was a man in the station filled us in on some of the history of the town: It was originally on the railroad, but there is no longer passenger service to the area. There are several small or medium size manufacturing businesses there, but the main occupation of the people in the area is agriculture and supporting activities. He told us that there is a crew of 9 volunteers that keep the station open for visitors 12 hours a day, 7 days a week, during the summer months. That is a lot of hours for those men to spend in a room that is no more than 300 square feet, and most of that is taken up by the artifacts inside. He was more than happy to spend a few minutes with us especially when we asked about the town itself.
The town has pot hole-free streets, lined by well-maintained homes and tree-shaded sidewalks - a sort of classic Middle America small town, but in much better shape than some. It is a place where you can imagine the barefoot boys going down to the river with fishing poles in hand as their little sisters sell lemonade from fruit crate stands on the street corners. While many of the towns we have passed through look like something that might have been documented by Dorothea Lange or Gordon Parks, Gothenberg looks more like a Saturday Evening Post cover.
We left Gothenberg and drove down US 30 towards the little town of Overton, not even shown on the AAA map of the Central States. A few miles west of Overton is stop D3 in the Nebraska NTP driving guide – the Plum Creek Massacre. There was supposed to be a marker and the grave sites of the victims of an attack on a Denver-bound wagon train during which Indians killed 13 men and captured a woman and a small boy. The army responded to the site of the attack and reburied the dead, but there was no sign of the grave in the area. Nancy Morton, the captured woman, told the story in a book published in 1912 recounts the story of her capture by the Cheyenne Indians. She escaped and returned home and died in 1912.
We continued along IS80 and saw, but did not stop to
inspect, the Great Platte River Road Archway that stretches over the highway. Highway
construction in the area seemed to have closed all of the off ramps from the
freeway – even after doubling back and trying to approach from the east we could
not figure out how to get there from the freeway. Since it was getting late in the afternoon we
decided to press on to Fort Kearney.Day 13 -- Ogallala to Ft. Kearney --
We got to Fort Kearny, adjacent to the Town of Kearney (pop.
315) just in time to be too late to enter the grounds. Luckily there was a camping area immediately next
to the Historical Park, so we stayed there for the night.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)