Montpelier, Idaho to Pocatello

WELCOME TO SOUTHERN IDAHO!!!!

Okay, it hasn't been as bad as all that! Actually, today was one of our best days of the entire trip so far. We did end up staying here in Pocatello (our first wild birkenstock sighting since leaving Massachusetts!) for a second night, which allowed us to backtrack about 60 miles in order to see the sights we missed yesterday.

Our first stop was in Montpelier, Idaho (where I took the photo above), to visit the National Oregon-California Trail Museum. It was well worth the drive--Phoebe said it was the best one we've seen yet (and we've seen a few!). In this museum, visitors are escorted by Oregon Trail "emigrants", dressed in period costume and NEVER out of character. They take you through the museum, helping you buy your wagon and supplies, talking to you by the campfire as if you are a fellow pioneer, telling you their stories of the trail. It was fantastic, and Phoebe had many opportunities to show her knowledge--when one of the pioneer women asked her why she was going to Oregon, she said she was going for good land for farming. It wasn't the kind of place you could take pictures, but you can see it for yourself at their website, which is at the top of the links section. Wonderful place.

We then moved on to the pioneers' next stop, Soda Springs, Idaho, where there are geysers and springs. The pioneers stopped here and drank from what they called "Beer Springs", as they were convinced that the spring water was inebriating (one man drank a gallon!) The one spring that is still active, called Hooper Spring (thank you again, wonderful guide book!), has a plaque that tells you all the mineral content levels.


It was freezing cold, bubbling vigorously from its source (it's pretty heavily carbonated, not to mention mineral-laden), and the sign advised visitors to "Drink Deeply of Nature's Best Beverage". And so we did.

f

....and those of you who know Phoebe know she does NOT like seltzer, so it seemed only fair that you should see her "AFTER" photo as well:


We then moved on to our third stop of the day, Lava Hot Springs, a place originally called "Poha-Ba" or "Land of Healing Waters" by the Shoshone-Bannock Indians (read about it at www.lavahotsprings.com). There are many natural hot springs (around 110 degrees) throughout this little town, all easily accessible, and with purported healing powers. As it was 0ver 90 degrees outside, we didn't feel moved to partake, but the photos of the springs in winter, surrounded by snow, made us want to come back here again! There is also a beautiful campsite here, making us wish we had known and camped by the river here.

While we read a bit and drove by some of the historical sights and hot pools, we focused most of our attention on the ENORMOUS swimming pool complex that the state of Idaho has built near the hot springs. One of the biggest pools we've ever seen (and the best one, according to Phoebe) with 7 diving boards and platforms, 4 water slides, an enormous green sea snake in the shallow end (check it out!)


in-water basketball courts, you name it. (you can see photos of the pool complex at the above website too). We swam there for four, count 'em, FOUR hours, and had a blast. Phoebe demonstrated her ever-improving swimming skills, including more than 20 jumps off the diving board, something Mommy had never seen before! WOW! We've come a long way from not-getting-her-face-wet!! (thank you, Phoenix!)



And now we want to close with our two "It's a Small World After All" moments of the day (now we've got you humming that song, don't we? HA!). The first came in the morning, when we chatted with a couple from Texas in the hotel parking lot (we had chatted with the same people yesterday at check-in as well, mostly because they were traveling with a darling miniature schnauzer and because she was interested in the necklace that I made). It turned out that they were driving home to Texas from visiting family in Montana, where they both were raised. I asked where in Montana they were from (like I know Montana, right?) and it turned out that she was from Sand Springs, Montana, which is near Jordan (where Phoebe and Audrey--and me, last year--went to the dinosaur dig). After she got over her total shock that a person from Massachusetts knows where Jordan is, it turned out that she was a high school classmate of Tim Lervick, whose ranch we stay at for the dig, and that she knew some other people that we knew from there as well. In the hotel parking lot in Pocatello, Idaho! Go figure.

Then, while we were swimming in the pool in Lava Hot Springs (you have to understand, this is in the middle of nowhere), Phoebe made a friend named Victoria. After playing together for a while, I asked Victoria if she lived nearby. She said "No, I'm from Massachusetts". It turns out she's from Medway. Go figure again.

These experiences prompted an interesting discussion about the nature of the expression "It's a small world...", which Phoebe had not known of or understood previously. After today, she's catching on!

Reflections on the Road

Tonight, we are in Pocatello, Idaho (where they have a GREAT Mexican restaurant, by the way), having made our way back to the Oregon Trail. It was a long day, without much to report, since most of it was eaten up by the breakdown of our SECOND rental car. With all due respect to those we know and love (you know who you are) who are proud owners of Subaru Foresters, let me just say that I've had it. After going through two Foresters in two weeks, we've switched cars. The process took several hours, and made it necessary to cut our scenic route that was planned for today (it also made me very fussy, but that's another story--I'll spare you).

With any luck, we will backtrack about an hour and a half in the morning and cover those sights, since they sound really great. We'll write more about those tomorrow morning (our first entry about Idaho!)

In the meantime, I just have to share a couple of things that have been nagging at me.

I hinted at the first in one other post, but I've been itching to say it more fully. It's about that verse in "This Land is Your Land", in which Woody Guthrie says "As I walked that ribbon of highway, I saw above me, that endless skyway, I saw below me that golden valley--this land was made for you and me". I have sung that song my whole life, and I have traveled much of the west, and I never really knew what that meant. Until now--especially about the ribbon of highway. On this trip, we have driven road after two-lane road that spread out before us for miles and miles, undulating exactly like a ribbon (or like a piece of that wonderful ribbon candy that appears at Christmas time, though not as tightly curved, obviously). I could look ahead and see the road rise and fall and rise and fall. I have never seen that before. I will never hear that song the same way again.

And one more thing...though it sounds a little (or more than a little) cheesy, and we stumbled on it in the most unlikely of ways, we have added to our "Westward Ho" playlist (which we play in the car every day) the theme song from Dances with Wolves. Whatever you think about that movie (and everyone seems to think something), the song is enormously provocative and is a wonderful match for the view of the prairie spread out ahead of you. When you hear it, you can see the wagons, you can feel the immensity of the plains, and, if you're me, you cry.

Here it is. If you've ever been to the prairie, then just close your eyes and listen. If you haven't been to the prairie--we hadn't--try to imagine, or look at the photo (not one of mine, but just like what we've seen every day for weeks) And if neither works, then play it in your car sometime when you pass this way. And if you can't stand it, and think I'm nuts, then just turn it off (it's your computer, remember?)and keep quiet--we're enjoying ourselves.

Last Update Finished (7/24)

At last, we're all caught up! The last one I had to catch up on is from 7/24, a day on which we drove SEVEN hours, maybe even a little more (ugh). Here's the link if you want to get to it directly:

http://42pennies.blogspot.com/2007/07/longest-drive.html

(Almost) On the Road Again

We're back in Salt Lake City, and off tomorrow back to the trail.

It's 106 degrees here.

NOW I bet you wish you came along, huh?

One more backpost....

...and one to go!

This service provided for the convenience of the compulsive among us. You're welcome.

Here's the link to this one, for those who don't want to miss one single moment of our adventure!

http://www.42pennies.blogspot.com/2007/07/scotts-bluff-fort-laramie.html

Finally...

I have just gotten around to adding two back posts (from July 20th) highlighting what I think has been the most powerful, wonderful, amazing day of the trip so far, so you might not want to miss them. It took me a while to figure out what to say about the two sites. You might not be one to scroll back to other posts, so I'm putting links to them here, in hopes that maybe this will get you there...

http://42pennies.blogspot.com/2007/07/california-hill-brule-nebraska.html

http://42pennies.blogspot.com/2007/07/windlass-hill.html

Dior We Ain't, But Still...

Listen...more than a couple of people have mentioned that they would like to have T-shirts like the ones that Phoebe and I are wearing in the photos. We're honored.

Here's the story. I designed and ordered them online. They still have the design, and can print more, but I have to order them in quantities of six or more (I think...that was their policy when I ordered the first time). They run around $18 each.

If you want one (it is true that you really should do something about that green color you've been turning), please let me know by e-mail (not in the blog comments) at robineinzig@comcast.net. I would need to know before August 10 (give or take a day, I'm easy). Give me the size (unisex sizes and/or children's sizes) and number you want, and if I get six or more requests, I will place a re-order.

Sound good? Good!

Another GREAT book for kids (and adults!)

We found this book in one of the gift shops along our way. It's a poem, very simple and lyrical, and it makes me cry every time I hear it (Phoebe reads it out loud to me in the car). I'm a sap from way back, so I won't guarantee that part, but still, it's a wonderful book. I would highly recommend it...absolutely beautiful, and so reflective of this whole experience (whether live or virtual). Check it out (click on the book for a link)...

Brigham Young and Me

I know, I know. You thought we were following the Oregon Trail, not the Mormon Trail. Well, you may (or may not) be surprised to know that the Oregon Trail, the California Trail, the Mormon Trail, and the Pony Express are one and the same, at least until western Wyoming, where the Oregon Trail splits off. I didn't really know that, but it's true. If this trip has taught me anything so far, it is how much I didn't know about this whole emigration. Three emigrations, three reasons (land, religious freedom, and gold), same trail, same time.

I don't think I've mentioned it, but all along the way, along small roads, highways, superhighways, through big cities and in the tiniest of towns, there are road signs that indicate the path of the trail(s). They're quite well marked, including turns. I'm not quite certain that you could follow the trail all the way without any other directions, but it's pretty close. This is what the signs look like (or two of 'em anyway--some signs have only one, some signs have all four, and everything in between):


You might not have expected that discussions of the Mormon religion (close your eyes, imagine ME explaining this to Phoebe.....stop laughing) would enter into this journey. You would be wrong. We went to a wonderful museum yesterday which had a very moving film about the Martin Handcarts, the Martin Encampment, and the rescue of the snowbound and quickly dying group by Brigham Young. The film was one of the most riveting things in the museum for Phoebe, maybe because it was narrated by a young girl about her experience, and also because it was very well done and fascinating.

And then, today, we find ourselves in the thick of it. Salt Lake City. We ate dinner downtown, in the shadow of the immense and ornate headquarters of the LDS. For the last 50 miles or so that we traveled today, we were no longer on the Oregon Trail, but on the last leg of the Mormon Trail which ended right here. No, we didn't take a wrong turn. We came here to catch a flight tomorrow morning to San Francisco (this is the second hiatus that I spoke of earlier) to help my mom out with some tasks and meetings related to my dad's death a few weeks ago now (in case you didn't read that far back, my father passed away suddenly on June 29). So we're leaving our car here in Salt Lake City and we'll be back to continue on to the Oregon Trail, which we'll pick up at the edge of Wyoming and Idaho, on Sunday afternoon. While I'm in California, I'll have a bit of down time (it's amazing what you can get done when you aren't driving!), so I will catch up on what we have done and seen and learned in the last few days. There's a lot of it!

As for today, we woke up this morning in Green River, Wyoming (coincidentally, that's also where we went to sleep last night!). You may recall that sometime back, I dedicated a Willa Cather quote to my sisters in Voices Rising. Today, the shout goes out to folks at Mudflat Pottery studios (where I do pottery, in case you didn't know)...who I HAVE NOT HEARD FROM ON THIS BLOG....AHEM!!....A big hello from Green River, the Soda Ash Capital of the World. Did you know that 3/4 of the soda ash in the world comes from this small part of southwestern Wyoming (did you even know what soda ash was?)? Well, now you do!

This part of the country is so beautiful. If you haven't ever been to Utah and southern Wyoming, you should do it sometime. We stayed in a little not-fancy hotel last night, getting there after dark, and when we went out to the two-block-long little street (where the parking lot was) this morning, this was our view. I mean, I know there are wires in the way, but STILL...there it just is, right at the end of the little street. Phoebe came around the car, mouth agape, and said "LOOK AT THAT!" My point exactly.


Our second and only other trail related stop of the day was at Fort Bridger. This was an important way station for all four trails, with a very active trading post, a Pony Express stable....which moves me to mention that I also am realizing how little I knew about the Pony Express, which is so legendary. Did you know it only existed for a year, after which it was made obsolete by the transcontinental telegraph (referred to as "The Singing Wires" by the Indians--I love that)? Did you know the riders were scrawny teenage boys, preferably orphans (no kidding, it's in the ad) who rode 100 miles a day at extraordinarily high speeds (like racehorses run) and stopped at various points, traded horses and kept going? Did you know they never lost ONE piece of mail? Did you know they rode from Kansas City to San Francisco in 10 days (that's less than we're doing in a Subaru!)? Amazing stuff.

In any case, our visit at Fort Bridger was cut short by an ENORMOUS thunderstorm, which was a bit frightening for Phoebe, so we got back on the road, but not before we took a few great photos of the restored trading post (with many original goods, and ALL the original ledger books--fascinating to see the actual lists of names and what people bought), the one-room school house (in honor of you Phoenix School folks!), and the Pony Express Stables. Thought you might like to see a few of those, so I'll post them here, and close for the day.







I will post and let you know when I complete the updates from the days I've missed. I know it's no crime to miss a day or two, but they were incredible days with SO much seen and learned, I would hate for you (and us, when we read this later) to miss those parts of this story (not to mention the photos, of which you're seeing a tiny sample, of course).

Signing off from Salt Lake City....

A.W.O.L., Blog Style

Just wanted to let you know that, after many hours of driving today, we are going to sleep without getting a chance to complete a blog entry either tonight or last night. It's true. I'm choosing sleep over you.

It is likely we will have time to catch up tomorrow evening, or if not, then the next day for sure, as we will be on a second hiatus from the Oregon Trail for a few days, which we will tell you more about on Thursday.

In the meantime, just to hold you (and us) over, here's what might just be my favorite photograph from the entire trip thus far, taken after climbing to the top of Independence Rock in Wyoming, one of the most famous landmarks from the Oregon Trail. That's the actual Oregon Trail in the background (the part that looks worn, like a path). Cool, no?

More to come....

The Longest Drive

We began our day today in Douglas, Wyoming, a town that we stopped at yesterday (you know....to sleep), even though our goal had been Casper, WY. We were just too pooped and it was just too late, so we pulled over and got a room.

In the morning, determined to start our day in Casper, we drove the hour to get there before even eating breakfast. Then we went to the Historic Trails Museum, which turned out to be absolutely wonderful. I spoke about it a bit in the entry called "Brigham Young and Me" (demonstrating my powers of time travel, since this post comes before that one chronologically...I'm so tricky). I put a link to the museum in the links section, so you can take a look if you want. There were many cool parts of the museum, and I would especially recommend it for kids. (Oh! We also met a family there who was visiting from Carlisle, MA!).

At the start of the museum was a large section on Indians of the region (Arapahoe, Cheyenne, and Sioux), including several recorded talks about the history of their tribes by elders of the various tribes. Phoebe loved listening to those, and I did too. But the best thing about the museum was the interactive exhibits. There was a covered wagon that you could get in, and it rocked and moved and jolted as you watched a very realistic movie out the front of the covered wagon (so it seemed you were really in one on the Oregon Trail). There was a similar one in which we sat inside a Wells Fargo stagecoach and the movie and movement made it appear we were actually back in the time.


There was also a handcart that many on the Mormon Trail used, and there was a treadmill so that you could try to push it at the speed at which they traveled. It was HARD!!! We have a great movie of it, which won't translate so well here, in which Phoebe says (in full high drama mode) "Weary.....terribly weary....." as she is pushing. But here's a photo of her working away.


I also loved the ad for the Pony Express riders, so thought I'd share it here...click on the photo to enlarge it, so that you can read what it says. Intense stuff.


Then we got back on the road, heading toward Independence Rock, a major landmark for those on the trail.
People carved their names into the rock, or wrote them on the rock with axle grease. You've already seen one photo of Phoebe on top of Independence Rock, in the short post before departing for California (more time travel). It was called Independence Rock, most stories seem to say, because if the settlers reached there by July 4th, then they knew that they could get to Oregon before snow fell on the trail--a critical element of success. Settlers camped here-- we saw many of their tracks, and some of their signatures.




My favorite story from this day was that after we searched for a good way to go up to the top of Independence Rock, we eventually settled on rock scrambling up this slope, a difficult but manageable route. Here it is:


Later in the day, Phoebe noted with glee and great pride that since we took a different way up than any of the other people who were around (all five of them), we were truly pioneers! Yay!

Scotts Bluff & Fort Laramie

We began our day in Scotts Bluff, Nebraska, which is the name of both a town and a national monument (which means it had a Junior Ranger program! And stamps for the National Parks Passport!!) We drove, rather than hiked to the top, as it was 98 degrees and it’s a steep way up, but we still took the hikes at the top. It was really beautiful from the top, and it seemed so high up in the middle of all that prairie. We could see Chimney Rock 40 miles away and if it were not so hot (very hazy air), we could have seen the Rocky Mountains more than a hundred miles away to the west. We tried, we squinted, but no such luck on this hot day.

Scotts Bluff was an important landmark for the pioneers as it signaled the end of their terribly boring trek across the prairie. Before they got here, they used lots of things to pass the time with the same view around them every day (remember, they only went fifteen miles a day, and this is 600 miles on), like music, dancing, and games. Most diaries complained of the boredom. When they got here, there was spring water, firewood, and sheltered places to camp. And maybe even more important, natural beauty.

We then passed into Wyoming and arrived at a place that we were excited to see, as Phoebe had studied and read about it: Fort Laramie!



This is also a national landmark, so there was another junior ranger badge to earn!



For those who don’t know, the Junior Ranger programs, offered at most national park administered locations, are a great way to learn more about a place and earn a ranger badge, and sometimes a certificate or a patch as well (if you haven’t ever done it, you can also do some of them online, and they send you badges--I put a link in the links section). The Junior Ranger booklet that had to be completed at Fort Laramie was one of the best we’ve seen…very inventive and fun. One of the things that Phoebe had to do was to find three people somewhere at the fort (which is quite large) who were in period costume and ask them three questions: 1) Who are you? 2) What was your job at the fort? and 3) Why were you important to the fort?, and then have them initial her form. Here is one of them, who gave a long job title that we can’t remember, but basically identified himself as the officer in charge of music for the cavalry. His job was to play a bugle or a fife to tell the soldiers what to do and how fast to do it.



Fort Laramie was much bigger than we had anticipated, though many of the buildings are in ruins. The ones that have been restored or preserved are set up as they were used, which is very interesting.


If you’re interested, I’ve put a link to the Fort Laramie site, since there is much more detail (most of it very interesting, including the relationships with the Arapahoe) than I can share here.

As we left Fort Laramie to head west, we looked back at the Welcome to Fort Laramie sign on the highway. Looks just like anywhere else, but maybe a little more honest, huh?

Buddha and The Zebras

Scotts Bluff, Nebraska

We are back on the trail! It was a great weekend in Cheyenne, complete with great shopping for western wear, but it is truly lightening to be back on the Oregon Trail.

Our trip today involved a bit of backtracking, as Cheyenne was a trip out of the way. There were ominous and enormous thunderstorms lurking in several directions, sometimes in the distance and several times quite close. We managed, somehow, to escape nearly all of their activity, probably getting only a few minutes of rain on the car over a period of several hours.

We headed east and then north to return to the Bridgeport, Nebraska area, not far from where we had left off. This part of the trail, which continues along the North Platte River, a very shallow river ("too wet to plow, too thick to drink", they used to say), is very different geographically from the areas we have covered previously. It is at this point that the pioneers, after several weeks of travel across open plains, had their first glimpse of spectacular rock formations and large bluffs. There are hundreds of diaries that talk about this portion of the trail, as the prior journey had grown increasinlgly boring, and they had had to generate many strategies to try to take their minds off the same-view-every-day. Also, most of the settlers were from either the east or the midwest, and had never seen these sort of rock formations and outcroppings that are part of the landscape in much of the west. Apparently in those days, they could see the formations from up to 40 miles away, so it must have been particularly striking after so long on the prairie.

The first one they encountered (and it is amazing how it is truly the very first formation as you arrive from the east...you're on the plains and then suddenly there it is) is a pair of mountains that they named Courthouse Rock and Jail Rock, apparently because the grand monuments reminded some of the large courthouse (then new) in St. Louis. What we saw today is likely very similar to what they saw, though the places where they carved their names have eroded away. The broader one on the left is Courthouse Rock.


We then headed in the direction of Chimney Rock, the next and even more spectacular formation. But on the way, we noted an attraction off the beaten path in our guidebook, and decided to take a 35 mile (each way) detour. I can't tell you how excited I am about what we saw. It has nothing to do with the Oregon Trail, I've never even heard of it before, but it was absolutely incredible. For all of the artists (or wannabe artists) who are reading this, you HAVE to check this out.

So here it is. It's called Carhenge and it's a scientific and exact reproduction of Stonhenge, using old cars as the building blocks. They are in the ground upright, a bit like Cadillac Ranch (for those who know of that one), welded on top, placed in every formation. It was done by a guy whose family owns the piece of farmland, and he built it 20 years ago as a tribute to his father, after living in England for quite some time and studying Stonehenge in depth. I've provided links both to Stonehenge (for those who don't know much about it) and of course, to Carhenge. We took tons of photos and this will only give you a taste. There are many additional sculptures using cars in addition to the main Carhenge installation, but you'll have to wait to see those (or look at their website). If you're ever in this part of the country, I would highly recommend visiting (and if you think it's really great, you might want to become a "Friend of Carhenge", as we did today).



Here's a close-up...


and best yet, here is the sculpture that oh-so-conveniently ties in to our Oregon Trail journey....(drum roll, please)....a COVERED "WAGON" (complete with wagon wheels)!!!!



Then we headed to Chimney Rock, which we were lucky enough to reach around sunset, making it an even more spectacular vision. The spire was much taller in the 1800s, but it is made of a very soft sandstone, which erodes quickly. Below the photo is a quote from an emigrant diary about the spot, which echoes my feelings about seeing it...



". . . camped opposite to & about 1 mile from Chimney Rock. I had some curiosity to see this . . . Imagine a pyramid standing alone though surrounded by rocky precipices some 150 feet high & at its base 20 feet through . . . No conception can be formed of the magnitude of this grand work of nature until you stand at its base & look up. If a man does not feel like an insect then I don't know when he should."
June 27, 1849, Elisha Perkins

As we headed to Scotts Bluff, where we are staying for the night, the sunset continued to grow more and more beautiful, making me more grateful to be back on the trail every moment. At dinner, Phoebe drew a wonderful picture of Chimney Rock in the sunset on her kid's menu (no way to scan those things in, but if I find a Kinko's somewhere, I will post her picture), and we had long conversations in car after she spontaneously mentioned that she felt that she had not gotten a full sense in her studies at school of the importance of the western migration, at least to the extent that she is starting to on this trip. She said that she did not know about the natural sites like Courthouse Rock and Chimney Rock and had no idea that the people and their journey were so "famous", meriting so many markers, guidebooks, monuments, stories, etc. Made me feel glad that we're on this trip.

And then...yes, oh patient ones....we checked into our hotel, a locally owned place where the owners have seen fit to decorate to their hearts' content. Our room seems to be the Zebra room, with Zebra bedspreads (not "zebra print", but the fabric is all pictures of zebras) zebra pictures on the walls, zebra books. And a Buddha statue on the small refrigerator. I love it.

Tomorrow, we're headed back into Wyoming, including Fort Laramie (which is not the same as Laramie, Wyoming, not even particularly close geographically), a site Phoebe knows a lot about from her studies in school. And on that note, if you're reading this, and you're part of the Phoenix family, please consider leaving us a comment or a note on the blog or by e-mail. Phoebe knows that some of you are reading and is so anxious to hear from you!

We sign off tonight with a photo of the sunset as we drove west....don't you wish you came with us? (there's always next year!!)

For Kids

Just FYI, this is the book that Phoebe is currently reading on the road, and she says it's great!!

• 

Cheyenne Frontier Days

I think this about covers it...

Guilt, Shame, & Penance (Warning: Place Tongue Firmly in Cheek)

While recognizing that this may be a bit over the head of some of the kids (and some of the adults!) who are reading this blog, it has been weighing on me, and sometimes, things just have to be said. Just bear with me (and keep a good sense of humor).

For the last three days, I've been thinking (sometimes for hours at a time, as I was driving that ribbon of highway, as Woody Guthrie so beautifully said it) that if I were Catholic, I might have to go to confession. But, as you know, I'm not Catholic. And even if I were, I don't think these things would qualify as sins, so maybe they're just confessions to the Church-of-Political-Correctness-and-New-York-Jews. Okay (deep breath). Here goes.

A few days ago (in Hastings, Nebraska), Phoebe and I needed to get a few groceries. I asked the hotel clerk where the closest grocery store was. She told me. And so....so.....so....(just say it, Robin, you'll feel better)....we shopped at Wal-Mart. There. I said it.

And then...THEN...heading out of Ogallala, Nebraska, we really needed some hearty breadstuffs for the car to supplement our breakfast of cereal. Again, we stopped at a grocery store, and I....I....I....(okay, okay)....bought Sara Lee bagels. Yes, they make something that is called bagels. They are round and they have a hole, I'll say that much.

Thanks for listening. I feel better now. I await your directions for penance.

More time travel

Just FYI, I've updated some of the back-posts (and keep checking because I'm trying to catch up). There's a video that you might like to see in the post called "Lawrence Kansas to Hastings, Nebraska" from July 18th.

Oh, and for those of you who have been wondering (as I'm CERTAIN you have) if there is something on the BACK of our snazzy Oregon or Bust T-shirts...here it is:

We Now Interrupt Our Regularly Scheduled Programming...

for a weekend of diversion, distraction, and puffy comforters, all in honor of the release of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.

We are in Cheyenne, Wyoming, a bit off the Oregon Trail (in more ways than one) to attend a Harry Potter party and wallow in luxury for a couple of days. It turns out, completely coincidentally, to be a hopping weekend in Cheyenne, as it is Cheyenne Frontier Days, a more than 100 year old 10-day long event which includes the largest rodeo in the west (it goes on for days, cowboys EVERYWHERE), a huge carnival and countless other activities. So what the heck, we're sticking around.

Although it's not exactly true to our "storyline" here, we will post updates from here as well, though tonight seems a bit iffy, as we won't be back from the Harry Potter party until (obviously) after midnight. There is still much to report from the Oregon Trail today--the sights we saw were literally breathtaking and may be two of the most memorable of the trip. More on that later.

On Sunday, we head back on to the trail (in Scotts Bluff, NE, for those following a map). But for now, don't forget to leave a mint on the poofy pillows.

Later, gator...time to apparate to the bookstore.

Happy reading to all those similarly inclined on this momentous evening (media victims though we all are)....

Robin & Phoebe

Windlass Hill

In the prior post, I mentioned that there were two powerful "feeling of being there" experiences from today, the first being California Hill. The second of these is visiting Windlass Hill & Ash Hollow.

I do not have photos of either of these places, as I forgot to charge the battery in my camera the night before (duh) so it ran out just before I got there. I did get a photo off of the web, though, so I'm posting it here so you can see (though it's really hard to tell from the photo...it was VERY steep, and didn't look nearly as hard from the bottom as it did from the top). You can see the wagon ruts ("swales") on the hill.



Windlass Hill was the particularly notable part of this site. This hill was the steepest (they're not kidding) hill that the wagon trains encountered during the first half of their journey. Some described it as worse than vertical--it wasn't that bad, but it was pretty steep, and very hard to imagine wagons going down. Apparently, oxen broke legs, wagons broke wheels and axles, and emigrants broke limbs as well trying to control their vehicles and navigate the hill. Though they found it scary, they apparently were willing to take the risk for the shade, fresh water, and peaceful setting of Ash Hollow at the bottom.

Just FYI, the name "Windlass" Hill is not for a geographic feature, or, like many other places, named for a person or an event. A windlass is a sort of mechanical apparatus for lifting a heavy weight (or lowering it down a hill). It's used to raise and lower anchors or buckets into wells...it's a horizontal cylinder with a rope or chain wrapped around it and a crank to raise and lower something. From what we learned, it was assumed that the emigrants used a windlass to navigate this particular steep hill, but all the signs and historical documents say that there is no evidence that anyone actually did that, so it's a bit of a misnomer.

We hiked to the top of Windlass Hill along a VERY steep path (of course, the fact that it was 98 degrees outside didn't help), in order to get a sense of what it was like at the top, peering over the edge. And then we hiked straight down the hill on an alternative trail that was closer to following the route of the wagons.

Intense stuff, and heady to imagine--you could feel the fear there. All the way up, we said "this doesn't look that steep" (huff puff huff puff), and all the way down, we said "They took WAGONS and oxen down THIS???". The signs said some people took an entire extra day to g around. That would have been me.

California Hill, Brule, Nebraska

On any adventure, there are moments that really make you think, moments that take your breath away, moments that make people of any age say “Wow….” over and over. On this particular adventure, those moments seem to come when we can feel for ourselves just a tiny bit of the experience that the emigrants may have had,when we feel some sort of connection to their journey. This day we were lucky to have two of those moments. Because each is special and each deserves its own honor, they are each in their own post for this day. This is the first.

Our first moment took place in a spot called California Hill. We were lucky to find it. It wasn’t marked, either on the main road or on side roads, but it was mentioned in our guidebook, and it sounded neat so we decided to go. The book told us there was a historical marker by the side of the road, 4.5 after leaving the town of Brule, Nebraska, and there was a dirt road right next to it that we should take to get to our destination. But when we got to 4.5 miles, there was nothing there, aside from some poles and a dirt road that was unmarked. We pulled over to wonder if the two poles might have at one point supported a historical marker and whether this might be our spot. Luckily for us, just at that moment, a white car pulled out of the dirt road (something that doesn’t happen very often on these roads), the driver leaned out of his window and said “Are you looking for California Hill?” His wife, in the passenger seat, was holding on her lap the same guidebook we are using, “Traveling the Oregon Trail”, by Julie Fanselow. We said “Yes!” and they told us we were in the right spot. They drove off, calling “Watch out for the fresh cowpies!”

So with excitement we turned down the dirt road and drove a half mile to a point where our guidebook told us there was a white wooden barrier that allowed you to cross the barbed wire. We parked.


We walked through the tall grass and through the tight Z-shaped wooden-walled passageway through the barbed wire (made so people can get in but grazing cows can’t get out).


We began to walk up the hill (watching out for fresh cowpies, which proved quite an obstacle course, not to mention prickly pear cactus and rattlesnakes, which are very common in this area). We could see a little sign at the top of the hill in the distance—our book had told us to look for it—so we headed that direction.



When we got to the top, it was almost as if we had struck gold. This is what we saw. I know it won't look like gold to you, but just take our word for it. (click on the picture for a bigger version….maybe you can get a smidgen of the feeling of being out there)


In this part of the country, these are called “swales”, a word that was new for both of us.
The lines in the extraordinarily soft sandy dirt are actual ruts from the wagon wheels of the emigrants from the 1850’s, the original travelers on the Oregon Trail. If you look toward the top of the photo, you will see where each side of the larger road rise up for a couple of feet. Originally, all of that land was even, but the constant passage of hundreds and hundreds of wagons over the same stretch of land wore down the earth, leaving a deep gap, a sunken “road” that marks, more clearly than in any other spot that we have seen thus far, the actual path of the pioneers. You can see the depth of the swales here :



There was something about this place that was amazing. You could feel it. We both loved the spot, and spent quite awhile here. Phoebe took off another quarter mile or so up the trail (the wagons came down this hill, in the opposite direction from the way we had come up), and we both kept repeating “So this is right where they were…”.

After spending some time there, we decided to head down. On the way down, we picked handfuls of desert sage (used as incense, for purification) from this spot that felt sacred. Let us know if you want some…we have plenty to share, and have tied it into small bundles with red thread. As we left in our car, we were reminded to take it slow and easy on this powerful adventure by a friend that we met on the road back down.


We’re not bold enough to defy the messages of animals, so we visited for a long time with our new friend (Phoebe wished she could bring it home!), thought of our friend Yvonne (and Charlie), and then said goodbye.

You know, I brought Phoebe on this trip because I thought it would be powerful and a great learning experience and fun for her. I didn’t know that the stories of the trail and the emigrants would strike me so hard as well. It has taken me awhile to write this post, as it was hard to put this day into words, so you will excuse the length. It still doesn’t do it justice.

I hope you get to California Hill sometime. Remember: 4 ½ miles west of Brule, Nebraska, which is 9 mi west of Ogallala, just at the corner of Colorado & Nebraska (closest big city is Denver, 200 miles southwest). Turn right on a dirt road, and half a mile up, stop at the white wooden fence that crosses the barbed wire. Walk up the hill, looking for the little Oregon Trail Marker. And watch out for the fresh cowpies

Time Travelers

Ooo-eee-ooo....

Through the magic of time travel, we are recreating our missing two days in the blog, and putting them in their proper order....so if you look back in the blog, you will find posts from the days that we missed.

Fancy, huh? I thought so.

(only one is done so far...Lawrence, Kansas, but the other one, the riveting "Hastings, Nebraska" is coming...stay tuned)

Robin

Hastings, NE to Ogallala, NE

Many photos today! It was a busy and rewarding day, and not too terribly long a drive, either! We left Hastings, Nebraska and headed west, this time (for the first time) along Interstate 80, which, as you probably know, is a HUGE highway (speed limit 75--wheee!). It actually follows quite closely the Oregon Trail but is a far cry from feeling like you're on the trail.

We made two major stops. The first one was at a Disney-landish place that spans the entire highway, called The Great Platte River Road Archway Monument. It looked touristy but fun, so we went. It was pretty great--a huge diorama of sorts of the history of the area from the Oregon Trail through the present time. This ENORMOUS bison sculpture that was outside began our adventure there.

It also seemed like fate (I hadn't seen mention of this feature ANYWHERE in any of our guide books or even the brochure for the place) to see this sign, which indicated that this museum is built on land called the 1733 Ranch, located 1733 miles from both Boston and San Francisco!! As these two cities represent 1) where we live and where I come from, and 2) where we began and where our trip will end, it seemed almost poetic! (even though it does say "Frisco", a big no-no....GRRRRR!)


When we entered the monument, we were greeted by this man, who was one of the people who do historic reenactment talks at the site. He was wonderful, gave Phoebe a harmonica (!!) and chatted and played harmonica with us for quite awhile.

And here's the part where we play Your Age is Showing. Do you remember these machines? I haven't seen one in years and years. It is so reminiscent of the road trips I took with my family when I was a kid, when we stopped at gas stations (in the 60's and early 70's) and always bought a bottle of strawberry soda (yick) from a machine just like this one (I never had even a sip of strawberry soda except on such a occasion, so the taste is the taste of road trips--you know what I mean?). And this one at the monument was a working vending machine--cold bottles of soda and all! Phoebe was completely baffled by my extreme fondness (not to mention fervor) for a soda machine, but she was a good sport and took a picture for me. It has nothing to do with the Oregon Trail, but it was so cool!


We went on from there to Fort Kearney, the first major stopping point on the Oregon Trail. It was an interesting spot, though it highlighted in the most powerful ways the trivialization of the Indian experience and response to the western migration of "settlers". I will say that on the Oregon Trail, the Indian perspective is really largely invisible, rarely mentioned in exhibits, etc, except in description of either battles or how "everyone got along fine". At Fort Kearney, though, it was hard to miss. The fort served as protection for the settlers (from Indians, mostly) in the harsh west. We went in and watched a slide show about the history of the fort, and I will never forget one slide (an artist's rendering) of a battle scene that took place near Fort Kearney. In the painting, there are Indians (mostly Sioux) lying all over the ground, covered in blood and obviously dead, and the voiceover is pointing out that three settlers lost their lives in this horrible battle. It felt like it went way beyond discomfort right into blatant willful omission. Of course, there was a good deal of tribute to the Pawnee Scouts, Pawnee Indians who had had historically difficult relationships with the Sioux in the area, and so became the helpers to the soldiers at Fort Kearney.

Most of the original buildings and structures are no longer there, though some have been reconstructed. The grounds are beautiful, though. We met two women from Washington and Vermont who were also traveling through, and they took this photo for us by a covered wagon, which was nice, as there aren't often opportunities to get pictures of both of us. So you know we're really here, that it's not like that moon landing conspiracy or anything.

After Fort Kearney, we moved on to our next stop, Ogallala, Nebraska, a major stop on the Pony Express. The name of the town comes from the Oglala Sioux Tribe, with Oglala meaning "to scatter one's own". Here is an interesting link that we used to learn more about the tribe (we'd also love other suggestions, Pat!). Take a look.

Nebraska - Phoebe's Report

Alright, this is a BIG day. It all starts when I wake up in the morning. Alright, here we go.

I get up, I get dressed, blah blah blah. And we start on our big Oregon Trail which is called Oregon or Bust. Well, we drive about half the way and we stop at Fort Kearney. You know what Fort Kearney is, right? Fort Kearney is a place where you can go up on these giant tower thingies and look over the fence. And if you're too small, you can just stand on these porch thingies--well, not a porch--and you can see fine. Fine fine fine fine fine fine.



Anyway, I got up on these huge towers and they were amazing. I mean, like, totally amazing. We saw the blacksmith's shop and see all the things they used to work with and they used to work very hard. And I also climbed up on this huge covered wagon. It was black, but it was kind of slow...there was no oxen and there was nothing in it. Imagine that, they had to go all this way until they could stop and repack and do all that stuff.



And then we went off and we started driving again. We got to the hotel and then we went out to eat some Chinese food. And now I'm having a delightful time going to bed. Get back to you soon--as soon as possible.

Phoebe