I have been working on a book about a young girl who travels the Oregon Trail with her father. Being a visual person, it was necessary for me to “see” the trail, not just read about it. Which I have done extensively.
The conversation came up for our 20th-anniversary celebration. Let’s have a party. Invite all our friends and relations. It will be a fete. ……And then we got practical. Cost of liquor, pain in the butt cleaning our tiny log cabin, Cost of lots of food. No parking, only one bathroom. The obstacles kept mounting. And, what would we have to show for it, but perhaps a hangover? Except that my husband doesn’t drink so he would be spared.
our little cabin
My adorable husband is not only patient, but also, once in a while, practical. He has heard me talk about travelling the Oregon Trail for years. Knowing I needed the trip to finish my book, and probably secretly hoping it would: a: shut me up, and b: produce a best seller that we could live off of for the next few years, we opted for the trip. After all, I had lots of zero balance credit cards. Why not do the American thing, and charge the trip?
So, starting in February, we began to plan and book. And a good thing too as many hotels were already filling up with post, sort of, Covid holidays being planned.
Normally, we travel with our dogs. Mikicc.org, my other blog, just highlights Ruby and Rusty, but we also have two Upland game hunting dogs, Buddie and Smoke. We have friends who own a kennel, Pondview, in Temple, and so we booked two rooms for them. As they are all rescues, it was very hard for me to leave them at “camp” but we planned to fly to Kansas City and rent a car. Not a good idea to do with dogs. And, when we do travel with them, guess who gets up at dawn to take them for a walk, and has to worry about whether they behave in the hotels. Stress I really didn’t want this trip.
Not sure they relished the idea of being left behind.
I hate to fly. It isn’t the flying so much. Now that my children are grown and exceedingly successful, the idea of flying is not so stressful. They no longer need me, I am forced to admit. However, it is the most dehumanising thing one can do. I have been told I am a SLIder, and in fact, my energy emenated enough that the TSA people thought I was carrying a bomb in my clothes and had to be searched. Did I say I HATE FLYING. Not only that, but as a high energy person, you should not ask me to sit in a tiny seat for hours on end without alcohol.
We started auspiciously by missing our flight. No comment. I should have caught the fact that the limo driver was picking us up in time to get us there 1/2 hour before take off. Fly and learn. It was right there on my excel breakdown of the trip. AARRGGHH. Sarge hated that they said he was old and did not have to remove his shoes. Then, an older gentleman in front of us, with a leg brace, was forced to sit down and remove it before going through the metal detector. They searched me, and my bag, thankfully I left my vibrator in my checked luggage.
I know now how to better pack. I am very minimal, but next time will use a back pack, instead of trying to be stylish. Sarge, on the other hand, packed enough clothes to be gone for a month. And who said women pack more than men?
Landing in the tiny, retro, Kansas City airport, we picked up our VERY red car and headed west. Our original plan had been to go to Ft. Riley, but with the oops, did I say we missed our flight? We arrived later than hoped and we had booked a room in the restored Weaver hotel, a bit of a haul to Waterville, Kansas.
I enjoyed the drive, though it took a while to get used to the 80 mph speeds. Roads were good. One would never want to go that fast on Massachusetts. roads. Here is hoping for an infrastructure bill. We saw a small band of wild horses along the way, and so much beautiful country full of the burnt oranges, soft moss greens and yellows my mother loved so well. Perhaps her years in Denver influenced her colour scheme. The drought was evident everywhere.
That being said, Kansas had lots of happy cows, grazing happily in grassy fields. Kansas also loves it’s history. They have many historical markers and many of the small towns take pride in their history and are restoring buildings throughout. We were pleasantly surprised by the beauty after always hearing that “Kansas is flat and boring” Nay say I. It is really quite beautiful and rolling. Nebraska….well that will be discussed later.
We stopped to read this sign, and getting out of the car, the sound of cicadas was deafening.
Because the first leg of this trip was researching for my book, we stopped at a few spots along the way. Most impressive were the Weaver Hotel, where we stayed. An incredible restoration done by locals. The town of Marysville, a pony express station and a beautiful little town, and Alcove Springs, an amazing step back in time, even with drought conditions.
Driving through Kansas and Nebraska, one really gets a sense of how difficult some of the creek crossing were. Up here in New England, our rocky terrain helps hold the shorelines in many areas. Out west, the water has it’s way and cuts deep into the soil causing very steep ingress and egress from many of the tributaries. And the wind! The constant wind. And, the lack of trees. How they dealt with the wind and the lack of fuel for warmth. I wanted to pick up some Buffalo chips in Yellowstone, but sadly, didn’t.
Our first night on our exploration was spent at the Weaver Hotel. https://www.theweaverhotel.com/ We stayed in the Benfield/McAtee room. Cozy, clean and this hotel is absolutely delightful, run by the most amazing group of volunteers. I had my favorite, not normally allowed on my menu, of Biscuits and Gravy for breakfast. Best ever!!! Wanted seconds, but the determination to not increase my waistline prevented it.
The night before the Weaver people recommended we go up to Marysville for dinner, it was getting late by the time we got to the area and many places were closed. It was, being mid September, also the end of the summer season. Marysville was about 12 miles North of Waterville, and a beautiful town, the main street is brick. It is renowned as a Pony Express stop. The Museum, which we checked out the following day, was well worth our stop.
Dinner in Marysville was the beginning of my Buffalo and Elk eating, and Sarge’s bread pudding obsession, served at every restaurant we stopped in along the way.
An overheard conversation hit home, as my son looks to buy a house in Boston. Two 30 somethings were discussing the fact that they bought their properties from their parents and were in the process of fixing them to their tastes. One, a contractor was telling the other, our waitress, that they had been working on their farm for 6 years and still are not done, but, they did not want to borrow any money so were doing it pay as you go. The waitress agreed and appreciated the time line, she was thinking she and her husband were progressing slower than they should. Try getting a house in New England without taking out a mortgage!
The Pony Express museum was very interesting. They even had a McCormick Reaper (Sarge’s family heritage). The tour guide was very hard of hearing and had her spiel. Not to be interrupted, but helpful when we asked to buy an Oregon trail map, post card, insulated coffee mug and a T shirt for a friend.
From Marysville, we headed North West to Alcove Springs. We wandered down some dirt roads, following our google directions.
This house is so worthy of restoration.
The area around the spring is a well used park with trails and picnic areas. Picnic areas are set up right where the wagons used to stop. I wonder if there are any ghosts?
Kansas Historical Markers were awesome. 
We walked back to the spring, unfortunately, drought made the water trickle, but it was a time warp. Initials carved in rocks. Old Cottonwoods who were probably youngsters when the wagons came through. My vivid imagination saw the wagons, the people, the animals all taking a breather in the beautiful surroundings. Here is a smattering of photos I took. Imagine hundreds of brave pioneers enjoying a moment of respite before they take on the challenging trip again. A trip that many would not complete.
A lot of Kansas was like this. Hence, many happy cows. 
Water wasn’t running this day. 
Many left their marks in the rocks and trees. I did not see any of the tree markings, but here are some of the carvings. I wonder where these people settled?
We tried to stop at as many markers as we could. I learned a lot and will be utilizing The Kansas Historical Society website often as I work on my book. My grandmother lived in Kansas City in the late 1800’s. Who knows what I might find out!
Stayed tuned for Nebraska and on into Wyoming!!
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