The RV Sabbatical Journal

Monday, June 30, 2008 — near Edwardsville, IL

Yesterday, Sunday, dodging rain showers and flooded roads, we found the point where, in May of 1804, the Corps of Discovery — The L&C Gang, as I’ve been referring to them — more or less formally began their trip into the unknown western lands of the newly acquired Louisiana Purchase. They had wintered over on land near the L&C Discovery Center at the mouth of a small stream known as Wood River, or Riviere DuBois at the time — Camp River DuBois as one of them wrote in their journal. Because the formal transfer of the Louisiana Purchase hadn’t taken place yet, they stayed for the winter, here, on the Illinois side of the Mississippi (the western edge of the United States at that time) close to the mouth of the Missouri River.

For the Gang, Camp DuBois was a beginning. For us, it was an end. Our beginning was at their destination — the mouth of the Columbia River, where the Gang stayed during the winter of 1805 – 1806. The path led us back up the Columbia, past what is now Portland, OR. and Vancouver, WA., past Beacon Rock, through the Cascades into the much drier and desert-like high plains of Eastern Oregon and Washington. Near today’s Pasco, WA., the path followed the Snake River to it’s confluence with the Clearwater River at Lewiston, ID., then up past our campsite in Orofino, ID, beyond, and into the area, the high Weippe Prairie, where they were helped by the Nez Perce Indians. Then up and through the rugged Bitterroot Mountains, through Lolo Pass and down the hill, following Lolo Creek, to a flat clearing near the Bitterroot River where they camped to rest — the place they called Travelers Rest. Travelers Rest is their only camp along their entire path that’s been positively identified as the exact site.

After crossing the Continental Divide we again picked up the trail at Three Forks, MT. — at the point the Jefferson, Madison, and Gallitin Rivers meet to form the Missouri. From this point, for the rest of our L&C Tour, we’d follow the Missouri River — from beginning to end. We’d see the Gates of the Mountains, the Great Falls, and the confluence of the Missouri with the Yellowstone River. It was along the Yellowstone where we saw William Clark’s name, carved into the rock at Pompey’s Pillar by the man himself during the return trip in 1806 — the only physical evidence that remains of their passing anywhere along the trail.

We saw what was left of the Mandan Villages in North Dakota, where the Gang built a small fort in order to survive the winter of 1804 -1805, and where they added the interpreter Charbonneau, his wife, Sacagawea, and their 4 month old son, Jean Baptiste to the group. We visited the grave site of Sgt. Charles Floyd, the only person to die during the entire duration of the expedition. We closely followed the river along the border of Iowa and Nebraska, then Kansas and Missouri before it turns eastward, cutting through it’s namesake State before dumping into the Mississippi — near the point they started in 1804… and where we’re camped today as I write this.

The abilities and skills of each of the members, and the way they developed into a bonded unit, got them through the many difficulties and challenges encountered along the way. But they were also extremely lucky. Jefferson, of course, would say that luck is 92% preparation. On their own in the rugged and wild west, where a broken leg or a snake bite was a death sentence, they spent two winters in small shelters they build for themselves, they encountered grizzly bear and rattlesnakes, walked for miles on prickly pear cactus with only moccasins for their feet, suffered many illnesses, and dragged tons of goods over numerous portages. Their transportation was powered only by muscle, with a little help at times from wind and water. They were an amazing collection of people.

So that’s it. Our trip took us about 60 days and we stayed in 20 different camps between the Pacific Ocean and here. We’ve learned a lot about the L&C Gang, about Jefferson and the politics at the time, about the different forces forming the west, about the native peoples who lived on this land for thousands of years.

What we learned about L&C and the Corps of Discovery has stimulated interest in learning more about some of it’s key members. I think I’ll be looking for biographies on John Ordway, Patrick Gass, John Colter, and a few others who’s contributions are continuously mentioned in the journals. This handful of guys must have been the core of the corps. So many of the others faded into obscurity after the expedition and little is known about them.

Our sense of completion is joined by the question of “what’s next?”. It’s good to have a project… a sense of mission and purpose. There are some ideas rolling around up there but for the next month or two we’re going to reconnect with our Wisconsin Family and celebrate with Justin and Kaytlyn before we settle on the theme for the next leg of our exploration of the USA.

T

Saturday, June 28, 2008 — near Edwardsville, IL

Traveling and touring have taken most of my energy the past few days, but I now have a little time to get caught up on the blog. So here’ goes.

We left the Omaha/Council Bluffs area this past Wednesday and made the easy drive down to the Kansas City area. As much as I don’t like big towns we surely seem to be gravitating toward them during this part of the trip. Why Kansas City? It’s on the Missouri River and if we’re going to follow the L&C Gang back to their starting point we’ve got to be close to the river. But there really isn’t much Lewis & Clark stuff here in the immediate KC area, so we shifted gears a little and decided to spend one day visiting the Harry Truman Library and Home in Independence, MO, now part of the bulging Kansas City Metroplex.

I found an RV park right in Independence called the Campus RV Park. It turned out to be the perfect place to stay… just an easy walk to the town square, Harry & Bess’s home at 219 N. Delaware, and the Truman Library. We’d stay here again if we’re back in the area. This was a short stay — only two nights. As we near Wisconsin the bus-house is “smelling the barn”.

About 10am on Thursday I found myself standing in Harry and Bess’s home at 219 N. Delaware. It’s been frozen in time, preserved by the National Park Service, pretty much as it was during their last years. An image I’ll remember forever is the kitchen. I think more than any other room, the kitchen told me volumes about Harry. Even for the 50’s and 60’s, it was extremely unpretentious… the old green shiplap wainscoting, the wallpapered walls and ceiling, the single dim circular fluorescent light in the middle of the ceiling… the old kitchen sink with the drainboards on either side… the lack of counter space… the little table pushed up against a wall between two windows, just enough room for two, where they had breakfast and lunch every day. On that table was a toaster and a set of metal tongs.. the story goes that Bess never liked Harry using metal tongs to pull toast out of the toaster, for fear of electric shock. So she’d regularly replace the metal tongs with some wooden ones only to find the metal ones back a day or two later. The linoleum flooring was separating at a seam… right in the middle off the room. Instead of replacing the floor, Harry used roofing nails to stitch and secure the ragged edges.

Despite sounding like the simple life of a President prior to his public life, this was the life of Harry and Bess after Harry returned to Independence to live his last 20 years. After all the trappings of the Presidency, the most powerful leader in the world, hanging around with heads of state, Kings, Queens, traveling the globe, state dinners, having people ready to do anything he asked, go anywhere he asked… after all this, here’s Harry and Bess, having breakfast in their little kitchen, Harry tugging a piece of toast out of the toaster with his metal tongs while Bess shakes her head.

When his stint as President was over in 1953 he said, “I tried never to forget who I was and where I’d come from and where I was going back to…. After nearly eight years in the White House and ten years in the Senate, I found myself right back where I started in Independence, Missouri.”

Unlike some recent vacatees of the White House with big heads and inflated egos, who seem to believe that it was all about them personally, not the office of the Presidency, and have parlayed their public service into a personal wealth accumulation program, Harry wanted to go back to his previous life — the life he valued more than any other.

Every day, Harry would take his morning constitutional… his legendary daily walk around the town of Independence. Every night, after dinner, he’d sit with Bess in their home library and read. There was a TV in the home, sort of tucked off in a corner, with no chairs facing it, and it was rarely used. He was a voracious reader; his home library is packed with books, as is his office at the Truman Library. After the Truman Library was finished in 1957 he’d walk to his office there most days. That office is still maintained as it was when he died in 1972.

We walked the streets of Independence that day, did the walking tour of the neighborhood, we visited the Library and Museum, had an ice cream cone at the Clinton Drug Store where Harry had his first job. It was one of the most enjoyable and fulfilling days we’ve spent recently. It isn’t often you get this kind of glimpse into the life of someone that did what he did.

Days like today inspire me to read and learn more about people and events in history. I think we’ll delay the Direct TV subscription another year.

T

Tuesday, June 24, 2008 — Council Bluffs, IA

The first Indians the Lewis & Clark Corps of Discovery met were six Oto and Missouri Chiefs who were accompanied by a contingent of warriors. The meeting, or council, was friendly and took place in this area, actually about 20 miles north of Omaha, in early August 1804. Hills or “bluffs” line this part of the river and eventually the entire area became known as the Council Bluffs. But the moniker only stuck with the town across the Missouri from Omaha — where we’re now staying.

As he would do whenever he met with Indians along the way, Meriwether Lewis explained that these lands are now a part of the United States, that they, the Indian tribes, had a new “Father” in Washington, and that it was the new governments desire to make friends with the native peoples, to trade with them, and it wanted them to become a peaceful part of this new nation. The way it turned out, however, was a different kind of “bluff”.

Unfortunately, the change that would befall the Indians during the following 75 years — one man’s lifetime — was a sad, wrenching, jarring change, that would end a way of life that existed and evolved for thousands of years. The Indian population would be decimated, mostly by European diseases for which they had no immunity. Small Pox, for example, would progress through an Indian village and maybe only 10 or 20 percent of them would survive. Many others chose to fight for their way of life and died doing so… how many of us would have the strength and nobility to do the same?

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We’re beginning to notice a correlation between being close to a bigger city and the number of weird people in the campground. This really applies only to public campgrounds — state parks in particular. The park we’re at now is an easy bike ride from Council Bluffs, IA and I can see and count the number of windows in the tallest building in downtown Omaha from my campsite here at Lake Manawa — an Iowa State Park. We’re close to a lot of people.

The park is populated by one weirds-mobile after another. Here’s an example:

Sunday night both Dar and I are sleeping away. It’s now summer and we like sleeping with the windows open. Dar is awakened by noise — the sound of car-doors, coolers, and other things slamming. What’s going on?? She looks out her little window — the one right next to her head. It’s the guy in the site across the road from us… nervously and jerkily walking around his campsite… obviously busy doing something. What’s he doing?? The moon was bright and she was able to see better as her eyes adjusted. This guy is filling his “smokey joe” barbecue with charcoal — and not being quiet about it. I should add that he’s not a young kid… he’s got his family including three kids with him, but they’re not part of the activity at this point.

Dar thinks “what the heck time is it anyway??” It turns out to be 3:30am… that’s right, 3:(friggin’)30 O’clock in the MORNING!

Then she smells the scent of charcoal lighter and the odor of charcoal being lit and starting to burn. Even if you had a hankering for a hot dog at 3AM in a public campground, wouldn’t you have the common courtesy to be quiet about it??? Not this guy!

Well, now Dar is in total disbelief and can’t get back to sleep. She keeps watching and he keeps cooking whatever it was. About two hours later I wake up and wonder what’s going on and get an ear-full. All I know is that I had a yen for a hot-dog for breakfast and didn’t know why.

I’ve got other stories to tell about our stay here, but I don’t want to drag this on further. I think we’ll be much more careful before staying at public campgrounds near big cities in the future.

T

Saturday, June 21, 2008 — just south of Sioux City, IA

The most notable thing to happen to the L&C Gang in this part of the country was the death of one of their most capable sergeants, Charles Floyd. He had become very sick in late July 1804, started feeling a little better, but then died on August 20th. No one can be certain but the best guess is that he died from a ruptured appendix — a malady that had no cure in those days. If that’s what it was he would have died wherever he was. One of the most amazing facts about the Lewis & Clark Expedition is that Floyd’s death was the ONLY casualty from beginning to end. They survived disease, extreme temperatures and weather, accidents, encounters with less than friendly Indians, wild animals, and more. While they were very good at living and surviving in the wild, they were also very lucky.

The Corps of Discovery was traveling north and west up the Missouri on their way into the heart of the vast western lands known as Louisiana. During July and August of 1804, they were in this area where the river today forms the border between Nebraska and Iowa. In those days the river was a slow meandering stream that would change course from year to year as spring floods cut new channels and cut through meanders or ox-bows. As I write, we’re camped on a small lake — Brown’s Lake — that was part of the Missouri in 1804, but was subsequently cut-off as the river cut a new channel. There are a number of lakes formed this way near here.

We’re at Bigelow Park on Brown’s Lake, a small county park about 12 miles south of Sioux City. When we moved in on Thursday, the park was mostly empty. On Friday, it filled up completely — all 40 campsites. A literal bee-hive of activity, we’ve enjoyed our neighbors and have spent hours sitting around the picnic table talking and getting to know them. They’re good Midwestern folk — not pretentious at all — just people that work hard and want to enjoy a couple days at the lake over the weekend. At night, as the sun sets and the wind dies to nothing, the smell of campfires reinforces that we’re at a campground, not an RV Park. And that’s the way we like it.

During the past two days we visited a number of L&C sites. There’s a very good L&C Interpretive Center along the river in Sioux City. There’s a monument to Charles Floyd on a bluff about 200 yards from where he was first buried in 1804. Then south of our campsite we visited the Lewis & Clark State Park where there’s a new Interpretive Center being built that will house reproductions of the boats of the expedition. Even though the building still is unfinished, two of the boats were tied up at a nearby dock and were available for inspection.

The primary vessel of the Corps was a 55 foot long keelboat, a flat-bottomed boat often referred to as the “barge” by Lewis. Two other boats called “pirogues” were about 40 feet long. They also used various canoes either traded for from Indians or made in “dug-out” fashion from logs.

Photo: A replica of the 55 foot long keelboat.

The Missouri River is over 2500 miles long and the Corps of Discovery, as they trekked west, traveled it’s entire length… moving against the current. There was no mechanized power, only muscle and, occasionally, wind. The primary means of moving these boats upstream was called “cordelling”, pulling a boat upstream by a rope tied to the boat’s mast. The L&C Gang had no animals to pull the boats at this stage of their journey so they had to do it themselves. Pulling from the shoreline if possible or by walking in the river if necessary, they’d still make 10 miles or more on most days. These were tough dudes.

Before I close this entry, another comment on Charles Floyd. This old boy may have traveled more after he died than before, as he was buried at least 5 times over the years. In 1804, he was buried by the Gang on top a bluff alongside the river just south of Sioux City. On the Corps return downriver in 1806, they found that wild animals had dug up the grave and scattered the remains. They re-buried what they could. Some 50 years later the river had taken it’s toll on the bluff, eating away the mostly sandy soil and exposing the grave again. Citizens collected the remains and buried them about 200 yards east of the original bluff. After another intermediate move what was left of old Floyd was finally buried under a new monument in 1901. Near as I can tell, the original bluff which is long gone was right in the path of I-29.

Tomorrow we’re planning a short move to the Omaha area.

T

Thursday, June 19, 2008 — Mitchell, SD

Here we are in Mitchell, SD. I had originally routed us closer to the Missouri by taking either 281 or 81 south from the I-90, going through Yankton, across the Missouri, and staying at a Corps of Engineers park on the south side of the river in Nebraska.

That was not to be however. A couple days ago we heard from another camper that the bridge in Yankton was being replaced and they had restrictions on travel over the old bridge. Through the magic of the internet I was able to find that the bridge wasn’t only restricted, it was closed! They’d found significant deterioration in the structure of the old thing and weren’t allowing any use until they figured out what to do — if anything.

My next thought was to travel west a bit from Yankton and take the road over the dam to the south side. The other Corps dams we’ve been to during the past few weeks all have a substantial road right on top the dam that could easily handle our little camper. But, for whatever reason, this dam — Gavins Point Dam — is restricted to vehicles under 10 tons gross weight. We’re something like 16 tons excluding the weight of the toad.

Yes, we could have stayed someplace on the north side of the river, but another thought entered the discussion. If we stayed on I-90 we could overnight in Mitchell and visit the only Corn Palace that exists anywhere in the world! I know, it sounds corny. But this “a-maize-ing” place is something you won’t find at Disney or Southern California or along the voguish East Coast. This is purely Mid-America.

There’s been a Corn Palace in Mitchell since the late 1800’s. Originally built to hype South Dakota as the new farming mecca and to encourage migration into the State, the building known as the Corn Palace today is actually the third iteration. The first and second were built entirely of wood and were really just corn-shells — dirt floors, no electricity — just big decorated barns. The current building is more permanent. Built in the early 1920’s out of concrete and steel, it serves as the Mitchell Civic Center where basketball games, conventions, large meetings, plays, and graduations are held. For almost 85 years old it’s holding up well.

Every summer a small army of young people are hired to redecorate the entire outside of the building. Large murals are the focus and each year’s theme is different. The only materials used are corn and other grains and grasses that grow in South Dakota. Almost all the materials used are grown on one nearby farm. The project could be compared to putting together a huge float for the Pasadena Rose Parade — except this float doesn’t move and corn is used instead of roses. About a dozen varieties of corn are used for their different colors and shades, and each of about 275,000 ears of corn are cut in half length-wise and nailed to the side of the building, following the pattern and instructions from the artist. It’s a work in progress this time of the year and you don’t get the full impact of the place until later in the summer.

If you’re “corn-fused” as to why we’d want to see this place, let me explain. First, my Grandfather, who lived from 1885 until 1969, always talked about seeing the Corn Palace as a young man. It was something special for him and that fact alone made it worth the stop. But Dar and I also stopped here in the early 1970’s — about 35 years ago — on our way to Yellowstone. And, like that spot with the big rocks along the Gallatin River in Montana, we had to check out how our memories corresponded with reality.

The Corn Palace changed a lot less than that spot along the Gallatin.

What else do you have for lunch when visiting the world’s only Corn Palace?

Today, Thursday, we’re off again. We’re hoping a small county park just south of Sioux City Iowa will work for us. If it does we’ll stay through the weekend.