Hymn Sing

 

The other night I went to a Mark Lowry concert. The title of the program was Hymn Sing. As I sat there listening to the audience sing hymns along with Mark, I was surprised at how many of hymns I knew by heart. I began to reflect on the last two weeks (DX +15) and how many times phrases from hymns or gospel songs have come to mind. Sometimes in the early morning hours or late-night awakenings when sleep eludes me, I sing songs in my head like a prayer. Other times phrases get caught on repeat, over and over again, an obnoxious ear worm. I read somewhere that if you start singing “Twinkle twinkle little star” the ear worm goes away. I have not found that to be true.

 

Music has always been a part of my life. I remember listening to albums with my dad when I was little. Dad was a whistler. He was an incredibly talented whistler. You could always find him in a store or at the mall by following the whistle. I still look for him whenever I hear someone whistling a tune although whistlers are becoming scarce. When I was about five, mom and dad bought a piano. It was a beautiful spinet piano. I inherited it when I got married and it has moved with me several times now. Mom and dad decided that my sister Kelly and I should take lessons. I couldn’t take lessons though until I learned to read so I just listened to my sister’s lessons. Her first piano teacher was a little lady that came to the house and taught her where middle C was on the keyboard and before too long, she was playing masterpieces like the A-B-C song and Three Little Kittens. A year later I started lessons too. Eventually we started going to Mrs. Middleton.  Every Friday after school I would walk or ride my bike the three blocks to her house. If Kelly got there first, she went first and visa-versa. Eventually Kelly stopped going (I don’t know why she quit). By sixth grade I quit lessons as well. I started up again, paying for lessons with my own money, in ninth grade. I took lessons for at least two more years from Mrs. Hockett. I learned to play hymns from the hymn book from her and learned a little about embellishing with added notes or chords here and there.

 

It was appropriate that I learned hymns. I grew up going to First Bible Baptist Church. We sang the traditional “Baptist” hymns from something called a hymnal. Hymnals are almost obsolete now as churches have opted for the more inclusive words on a screen method of corporate singing. I can still hear Pastor Lee Drennan in his sonorous baritone voice compelling us to “turn to page 249 as we all stand together and sing Standing on the Promises” followed by a rousing piano and organ introduction. I learned the words by listening and singing along. I clearly remember that one of the first hymns I learned by heart was Blessed Assurance. My dad was the church custodian for a while. My sister and I “worked” for him and were paid the magnificent sum of one bottle of pop from the pop machine. That was a real treat because we usually only got pop on Sunday night, after church, with our popcorn. one day Kelly and I were straightening chairs in a building they called the Chicken Coop, a name earned because of its previous life. I found a hymnal and went to the podium at the front of the room. I pretended that I was the song leader and told everyone to turn to a page and sing Blessed Assurance with me. I began to sing “Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine. Oh, what a foretaste of glory divine. Heir of salvation…” only I pronounced Heir like it looked…hair. My sister thought that was so funny and teased me. I didn’t understand why. She made me sing it for dad when he came in and he corrected me and told me what the word meant. Sometimes, just to spite my sister, I still sing “hair.”

 

I know a lot of Christians memorize verses from the Bible and I’ve memorized my fair share over the years. The trouble for me is, they aren’t set to music. I’m convinced if verses in the Bible had their own tune, I’d be able to remember them better. For example, the Hillsong song “Who You Say I Am” has a bit of John 14:2 in its lyrics: In my Father’s house, there’s a place for me” which echoes my life verses of John 14:1-3. Wouldn’t it be cool if there was a singing Bible? Anyway, my words of comfort from God come from song lyrics. Some of my favorites are the following:

                      “Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow” from 
                      Great is Thy Faithfulness

“Be not dismayed what ere the tide. God will take care of you” from a song by the same name.

“Pass me not oh gentle Savior, hear my humble cry” from Pass Me Not

It is Well by Horatio Spofford

Precious Lord Take My Hand by Tommy Dorsey

And many, many others. I’ve always said that when I die, I want my funeral to be a joyous time of singing. Now that it’s a close reality, I still feel that way. Music and singing are so important to our souls and their renewal and fortification. ALS has robbed me of my ability to sing and play my cello but not of the melodies and words of the old and new songs I've learned through the years.The great preacher and theologian Charles H. Spurgeon in his sermon “Songs in the Night” says this: “Night is the time of terror and alarm to most men and women. Yet even night has its songs.” So, as I fight through this long night and its unknowns I hope and pray that my songs in the night continue to come to mind. And I hope that you too will find comfort in your songs in the night.

 

The Dark Woods

Today’s wandering is not our typical jaunt. In some ways it is a mystery tour but not one that ends someplace fun. It is a journey we didn’t choose nor expect.  In fact, it has always been one of my greatest fears when I pondered retirement. This wandering is not one that we can easily map out, but it always ends in the same place. It will take us through those poetic dark woods, but I am truly hopeful that we will find bits of loveliness along the way. I will warn you, dear reader, that I’ve given you a lot of detail as I intend this to be a record of the past two weeks as well as a letter to you.  Skip down a few paragraphs if you want to read the ending first.

This past year I’ve been experiencing several seemingly unrelated symptoms.  My calf and foot muscles began to cramp.  I was exercising quite a bit, so I thought the cramps were related to that. My voice was getting rough and then began to get hoarse—my diagnosis was allergies. Then I began to have trouble swallowing and would choke from time to time.  I had no idea why, but I tried to ignore and just chew my food more thoroughly. When I got Covid in July, it became something I couldn’t ignore anymore. The coughing would cause me to choke and not be able to breathe. My doctor thought it was time to do more.

I went for a swallow test in August, and it showed that I had weak tongue and throat muscles, and food was indeed getting stuck at the top of my throat. The speech therapist suggested speech and swallow therapy and a visit to an ENT.  Because of insurance (always insurance) I had to wait for a referral and approval for both.  I started speech therapy in October and visited an ENT as well.  The ENT saw nothing in my throat that could be causing my choking and suggested a visit to a neurologist.  It isn’t easy to get into a neurologist in Wichita.  I was initially told it would be February or March before I could get in.  That, to me, was unacceptable.  At that point I did two things.  I started a prayer group on Facebook, and I contacted my doctor for help.

My primary care doctor is a Christian.  She let me know that she was praying for me and that she had reached out to a school colleague who is a neurologist here in town. Simultaneously her nurse and the ENT’s nurse began an effort to find a neurologist that could see me right away.  Several of my friends were petitioning God on my behalf for a quick appointment.  I fully credit all of those for my getting an appointment in October.  I knew that God was working on my behalf when I got that phone call.  I have never, to my knowledge, had a prayer answered so quickly and fully.  I was in awe and so thankful. 

Not only did I get a quick appointment but when I looked Dr. Mayans up online, I found that he is an expert on neuromuscular testing and disease—just the doctor I needed. Prior to my appointment I put together a timeline of all the symptoms I have experienced over the past year.  The list filled a page.  After some strength testing and looking at my symptoms, Dr. Mayans suggested having an EMG test.  He was careful not to say that I had any one condition but the one he did mention was the least of my worries.

I figured I would have to wait several weeks for the EMG, just like everything else and I wasn’t wrong, at first.  The scheduler called and gave me a date 5 weeks out.  I sighed and reluctantly accepted the appointment.  A few minutes later she called back and said she saw a note that Dr. Mayans wanted me to be seen right away and that she had an appointment the middle of November.  Okay, that was better than the end of the month. About an hour later she called again and said that doctor didn’t want to wait that long, and could I come in two days later? Of course, I said absolutely.  I had two thoughts about that sequence of events. First, I once again knew that God was in the details and was working on my behalf as an answer to prayers. Second, I became more concerned that there was something seriously wrong with me that the doctor had seen in my initial testing. I put that thought in the back of my mind and tried not to worry too much.

My EMG appointment was on Halloween, an appropriate day for that sort of ghoulish testing.  It reminded me a bit of Dr. Frankenstein experimenting in his laboratory.  I even had to sit with my left foot in a bucket of warm water.  When the doctor came in of course he made several jokes about what was to come, immediately endearing himself to me.  If you know me well, I have a rather dark and sometimes inappropriate sense of humor and his sense of humor meshed well with mine.  Now, if you’ve never had an EMG, I hope you never have to have one.  The test consists of two parts.  The first half was the placement of electrodes at several points along my leg and arm.  Then the doctor administered a small electric current of increasing strength to test muscle reaction.  That wasn’t too bad.  Kind of like when you get a bad shock from static electricity or when you touch one of those Van De Graft generators at the Science Museum. The second part of the test was worse.  The doctor then used a small needle and went back to each spot and inserted the needle under the skin.  I now know where I should get a tattoo and where I shouldn’t get one.  Some spots weren’t that bad.  Others were like when you get a bad technician inserting an IV.  You know, how they kind of jam the needle in and grind it around? Yeah, it hurt like that.  That was to test my nerve reactions to stimulation. After a few minutes of review the doctor came back in the room and changed our lives forever.

I cannot begin to explain the moment when you learn that you are going to die.  Dr. Mayans is very sure that I have Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis (ALS) also known as Lou Gehrig’s disease. (I guess there’s a reason that the Lou Gehrig Story was one of my favorite movies when I was younger).  Did I just bury the punchline?  Anyway, he explained that ALS is a disease of the motor neurons.  It gradually takes away all of your motor functions but rarely affects your mental capacity.  It is always fatal.  There is no cure.  Treatment is limited.  You basically manage the effects of the disease through assistive devices and equipment.  I asked what my life expectancy is and learned that 90% of patients live three to five years after diagnosis.  10% can live up to ten years.  5% of those live beyond ten years but that is very rare.  That diagnosis was the one he mentioned, the one I put at the back of my mind.  Ken and I stumbled out of the doctor’s office and spent several minutes crying in our car.

Again, God is in the details.  The reason Dr. Mayans wanted me to get in on Monday was because he was sure that’s what his diagnosis would be, and he knew he had an open appointment at the ALS Clinic on Wednesday.  Two days later we met all the therapists and technicians that we will be working with in the coming years and given more information than our numb minds can process right now.  But the information was very helpful and hopeful in a way that lets us know we don’t have to do this on our own or alone.

We’ve done the difficult part of telling family and friends.  It hurts my heart to cause pain to so many people who I love. I am just taking one day at a time right now. I can’t wrap my mind around all the physical things that are going to happen to me.  I can’t fathom dying in 3-5 years.  I say with bravado I don’t really possess that I am going to be in the ten percent that live beyond five years. My dear friend Patty says I’m going to be the doctor’s second misdiagnosis.  That is my prayer, and I am trying to give this disease over to God on a daily basis.  Meanwhile, Ken and I are going to make the most of the time I have as best we can.  He is such a good husband and helpmate, and I am blessed. Currently my speech is very weak and somewhat slurred.  My left side is very weak.  My right side is getting weaker.  I walk with a rollator (a walker with wheels) around the house.  If we go somewhere that requires a lot of walking Ken pushes me in a transport chair.  I am working on getting Social Security Disability and with that comes Medicare.  Once I am on Medicare, I will be able to get an electric wheelchair.  My biggest battle right now is conserving my strength.  It’s difficult to do anything—nothing is easy.  I’ve really declined in the last six weeks and my prayer is that my disease progression slows down.

People have asked what they can do.  Right now, we don’t even know what we need.  I know down the road that our needs will become greater, and that Ken will need more help.Keep in touch with me as I do get lonely. My world has shrunk to my house most of the day so I'd appreciate text messages or even a quick visit every now and then. I've also enjoyed the cards that a few of you have sent.  Please continue to pray for us.  I have a Facebook group called Laura’s Prayer Warriors if you are interested. God has already been at work.  I am learning to ask for and accept help, something not in my nature…I am the one who helps others.  I have so appreciated knowing you all are out there and are lifting me up in prayer.  That means so much.

These woods are dark and deep, but I have miles to go before I sleep.

www.als.org and www.teamgleason.org are excellent resources for more information.

The Black Hills Expedition of 2021

 

    A little bit of this

A little bit of that

A fort, some rocks

A tunnel, some monuments

South Dakota, South Dakota

(My apologies to the original lyricists for that lame parody on "Anatevka".)

  I don't know how to begin this entry as we've seen so much in the last three days.  I suppose I'll just "dive in."

    On Monday we drove from Estes Park down the Big Thompson and north into Wyoming.  There were some truly impressive geological formations along the way followed by some extremely desolate country.  It is dry here so everything was brown and crunchy.  I saw several signs indicating we were following the Oregon Trail and at one point there was a sign for the Guernsey Ruts and Register Rock. That sounded really familiar but I wasn't sure I'd been there before.  A glance at a map and I realized we saw it several years ago on our way to Glacier National Park.  Beyond Guernsey the road became very flat and very straight.  Twice on this stretch we had to avoid careless, impatient drivers who were trying to pass other vehicles.  The first one was very, very close causing Ken to have to take to the shoulder of the road.  Thank you Jesus we avoided what would've been a very serious accident.  I told Ken that we wouldn't have walked away from that one.  Almost as I said it he said "will we walk away from this one?"  I looked ahead just in time to see a semi abruptly cut in between the camper and semi he was trying to pass.  Our guardian angel was with us for sure.  We arrived in Custer about 3:00 p.m. and found our cabin.  Petticoat Junction fans will appreciate the name "Shady Rest Hotel".  Yes I sing it in my head every time we come "home".  After resting a bit we went to eat dinner (Bison tenderloin with blueberry puree mmm, mmm).  We had already decided to go to the Crazy Horse Memorial for the evening laser show so headed up the hill after dinner.

    The Crazy Horse Memorial was commissioned by Chief Henry Standing Bear of the Lakota in 1940 or so.  He was impressed with the work of Korczak Ziolkowski and asked him to take on this huge project.  Korczak agreed and worked with the Chief to choose the location in the Black Hills and create the design of the sculpture.  Over the years the sculpture married his assistant Ruth and they proceeded to have ten children-they were needed to do the work he said.  The memorial will be several times larger than Mount Rushmore when finished.  I overheard a museum employee say that it will take decades and decades to finish.  When we were here in 1993 Crazy Horse's eyes were not "open" yet.  Now his face is finished and they are working on his arm and beginning his horse.  The entire complex is quite impressive.  There is a beautiful museum of Native American culture and art work.  The home that the family lived in is open for visitors and there is now a huge gift store.  More impressive is the Native American University that is part of the complex.  It is specifically for Native American students and allows them to work and to earn college credits while living on campus.  The laser light show was interesting although a little cheesy.  

    On Tuesday we chose to drive the Peter Norbeck Scenic Byway which is made up of the Iron Mountain highway and the Needles Highway. We started by driving to the Breezy Point Lookout for a spectacular view of the Black Hills.  The movie "North By Northwest" was filmed in this area. We then backtrailed a bit so that we could drive the Needles Highway first.  That way we would be able to see Mount Rushmore as we drove through the tunnels on Iron Mountain.  Needles highway winds through the southern part of the byway and takes you through some very impressive volcanic formations.  My inner geology geek, nurtured by Mrs. Jones so many yeas ago, found them quite interesting.  There are two or three one lane, narrow, low tunnels carved through the rocks.  Since the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally just ended there were several groups of riders that we often had to wait for before we could go through the tunnels.  One in particular was memorable.  It is called "Needle's Eye" and is at the end of a curve so that you really can't see if anyone is coming the other way until you are right at the entrance to the tunnel. Norbeck meticulously planned each tunnel on both highways so that they were in the most scenic areas.  When the byway was built in the 30's it was nicknamed the "needless highway" because it was so expensive.  

    The Needles highway branches off into Custer State Park and the Wildlife loop which is home to a huge herd of Bison.  I thought we weren't going to see any bison but just before the end of the loop we came upon the herd right alongside the road.  They were very impressive and there were many calves with their mothers.  On down the road a bit we were attacked by a wild turkey that tried to fly into our car.  He narrowly missed us thank goodness.  Cars and tunnels and bison, oh my!

    Iron Mountain highway was also designed by Peter Norbeck.  The tunnels on this road frame the monument on Mount Rushmore.  I remember in 1993 how thrilling it was to see the 4 Presidents through the tunnel for the first time.  Norbeck knew exactly where he wanted the tunnels and he left it up to the park director and engineers to design the road.  The result was two sets of pig-tail bridges that curve back over themselves so that the road comes out where Norbeck wanted the bridges to be. I forgot to mention that he also planned several scenic lakes along the way.  We stopped at one that is called Horse Thief Lake.  The lakes were built by the Civilian Conservation Corps to serve as fishing lakes.  Horse Thief Lake is pictured above.

    We ended up in Keystone and to kill time we found the city cemetery and thanks to www.findagrave.com I was able to locate the graves of Carrie Ingalls husband, his first wife and his son.  I have an indulgent husband who allows my Wilder side to be nurtured from time to time.

    Tuesday evening after a lovely meal at Powder Valley Inn we took in the evening ceremony at Mt. Rushmore.  We were there about two hours which was just about right.  The lighting ceremony was beautiful.  I won't go into the history and building of the monument as it is pretty common knowledge.  Look it up if you are interested.

    Our final day, today, was spent at Keystone Historical Museum and napping.  The museum is home to several items that belonged to Carrie Ingalls Swanzey, the sister of Laura Ingalls Wilder.  The most important item in the collection is a small figurine thought to be Ma's China Shepherdess which Laura mentions several times in the Little House series.  It was found among Carrie's belongings carefully wrapped and stored away.  Laura mentioned in a letter to a fan that "Carrie has the shepherdess."  No one is quite sure that this is the beloved china woman or that she even existed.  She may have been a literary element added by Rose Wilder Lane to give continuity and symbolism to the series.  Either way, it is fun to see her (or maybe him.)

    Tonight we strolled down Rushmore avenue in Custer and then drove out to the Gordon Stockade for another LIW moment.  Honestly I did not remember the story from "These Happy Golden Years" until Sarah Manley mentioned visiting the stockade on her trip to the area.  I looked it up and found that the stockade is only three miles from our cabin. Laura Ingalls Wilder had an uncle on her mother's side that was part of the Gordon party who came out to look for gold in 1874.  The government had sent Custer and a thousand troopers into the area in early 1874 to look for gold.  It was found in the Custer area in French Creek.  Word got out and although it was illegal, prospectors came to the area later in the year seeking wealth.  The land belonged to the Sioux  due to the Fort Laramie Treaty almost ten years earlier.  When the Gordon party arrived they built a stockade as protection from the tribe who would most certainly be angry when it was discovered that they were there.  The winter conditions were harsh and four members of the group left only to be captured by soldiers patrolling the area.  They divulged the location of the stockade and the soldiers forces the remaining prospectors to leave the area.  Laura's uncle, Thomas Quiner, was part of this group.

    And so we bid a fond farewell to the Black Hills of South Dakota and head east toward the Prairie.  Tomorrow we will stop at Wall, at the Dignity monument in Chamberlin and end up in De Smet.  Yes you guessed it.  Another LIW stop.  Hey, he gets to shoot.  I get my "Laura moments."

Happy Trails!

 

Everything Old is New Again

Log Picture at the Alluvial Fan

        

    Why do things have to change?  I ask this question a lot...mostly in my head, but I've said it out loud several times during the last day and a half.  My family first vacationed in Estes Park, Colorado in 1976, one month before the catastrophic Big Thompson Flood.  It was one of our first vacations to Colorado where we didn't stay at my grandma Pauline's.  It became our family vacation spot and once Ken and I married we vacationed in EP almost every year of our marriage (25 to 30 times at least).  I used to want to live here.  In the early days EP was just a sleepy little tourist town full of t-shirt stores, candy shops (Laura's Fudge Shoppe, mmm mmm), and a couple of stores that sold cheap imported Dresden figurine knock-offs.  Of course the canyon changed after the flood but the town stayed the same until the 1982 Lawn Lake flood.  After that flood old businesses left and newer businesses took their place.  The town made some aesthetic improvements as well thanks to FEMA and insurance money I suppose.  That flood also created the alluvial fan at the top of Horseshoe Park in RMNP.  It stayed the same until the floods of 2013.  That flood changed the course of the river once again and changed the base of the fan. It also damaged part of Devil's Gulch and the Big Thompson Canyon.  Most recently the Cameron Peak Fire of 2020 changed the landscape of the Kawuneeche Valley.  Nature is hard on her landscape.  

    Over the years we developed some traditions, especially as the girls were growing up.  We often stayed at River Spruce Cottages (too expensive any more). We always went to the Lazy B Chuckwagon (closed and now gone).  We always drove up Trail Ridge Road and spent many hours in Rocky Mountain National Park where we took "log pictures" on the same log every year (washed away in 2013).  We often picnicked or cooked out in Endo Valley.  We ate Pizza at Bob and Tony's Pizza (now a Whiskey Distillery) and the adults drank killer margaritas at Ed's Cantina.  Our trip always ended with several trips down the Rainbow Slide (too old for that now but Andy enjoyed it two years ago). Some things are the same, others, as I noted above, have changed.

    One thing that has changed, and not for the better in my opinion, is the number of visitors that now come to the area.  The town is packed with visitors, especially during the summer.  RMNP is over run by tourists who don't think the rules apply to them or perhaps who don't really understand the fragility of the environment within the park.  I know I sound a little like the EP natives who gripe about the tourists coming to town but I think after 45 years I've earned a little tourism status!  I'm also not happy with the rate of development here.  It's becoming a lot like the Branson area.  Every spot that can be developed is being bought up by corporations.  Trees are being cut down, hillsides are being scraped away.  Across from our hotel is the historic Elkhorn Lodge-or what's left of it anyway.  Despite being on the register of Historic Landmarks, the majority of the buildings are being torn down.  In its place will be a hotel, condos, shopping and dining.  Yes it will bring new revenue to the town but at what cost?

    Despite the changes, Ken and I have maintained a few of our traditions.  We arrived yesterday afternoon.  Our first stop was Ed's Cantina because we always eat at Ed's.  Of course we had to go to the Safeway for "just a few things".  We also walked up and down Elkhorn Avenue stopping in a few of our favorite shops.  Today we walked the Alluvial Fan and found a new log bench took our photograph.  Ken suggested we get lunch at Safeway so back we went this morning. We ate it in Endo Valley of course.  We drove over Trail Ridge Road to Grand Lake.  The burn scar from the fire is unreal.  Burned tree stumps, some almost ben to the ground, fill the hillside.  It totally destroyed the ranger station at the west entrance.  At the top of Trail Ridge, while we were in the park store, it began to pour and then hail, tiny tiny pellets.  We drove in and out of rain all the way down the west slope.  It rained again while we were in Grand Lake.  The rain didn't stop us from getting ice cream at Miyauchi's Snack Bar where they make their own ice cream fresh each day.  Yummy, yummy.  We capped our day listening to Cowboy Brad Fitch (www.cowboybrad.com) sing  an eclectic mix of music at a free concert in Bond Park.  We are great fans of Cowboy Brad and he is another on of our EP traditions.

Cowboy Brad Fitch 

www.cowboybrad.com 

        We did enjoy one change that occurred a few years ago.  Now that the town charges for the best parking spots (boo hiss) we took advantage of the free trolley shuttle to and from our hotel.  We also discovered a new-to-us hotel called the Maxwell Inn.  It is only a half mile from down town so we enjoyed a brisk walk back from the concert tonight.  I had to walk off the ice cream after all!

    Tomorrow we leave one of my favorite places on Earth, despite all the changes, and move on to the Mount Rushmore area.  We've only been there once before, many years ago so no traditions to carry on there.  Maybe we can make some new ones.

8 Wonders of Kansas: The Arikarre Breaks

 

          It's been awhile since I've written anything here!  Trust me, we've wandered quite a bit since my last entry, I've just  been to busy tired lazy to fill you in on our adventures. We have this wonderful book called "The Kansas Guidebook 2" and every once in awhile Ken looks through it and picks a spot for one of his famous "Mystery Tours" or just a day trip to some new place we've never seen.  That wasn't the case today but we did get our background information from the Guidebook before we started out. Today's wandering took us to one of the 8 Wonders of Kansas called the Arikaree Breaks.

         We are on vacation.  This is the first official vacation of my retirement.  It is somewhat special because while I am enjoying my vacation, my friends are back in Wichita enjoying their first few days of school.  I feel a sense of freedom that I've never experienced before.  I kind of like it!  Our journey will take us to Estes Park Colorado, Rocky Mountain National Park, Wyoming, the Mount Rushmore area, De Smet and finally Independence Missouri. The trip is bookended with two Glock Meets for Ken-one in Greeley Colorado and one in Hallsville Missouri.  

        The Arikaree Breaks have long been on my bucket list of things to see in Kansas.  We had no time schedule to meet on our drive to Colorado today so we decided this would be a good time to take this little side trip.  We headed north out of Goodland Kansas to the town of St. Francis.  The first stop on our tour of Cheyenne County took us a little west of St. Francis to the Cherry Creek Encampment Site.

  

 

          On November 29, 1864 the troops of Colonel John M. Chivington viciously attacked an encampment of women, children and elderly Cheyenne Indians.  163 Cheyenne were killed, the village was destroyed and 600 ponies were captured.  Their leader, Black Kettle, wanted to remain peaceful.  However, the warriors of the Cheyenne, Apache and Sioux were outraged and sought revenge.  Over 1000 members of these tribes assembled in the Cherry Creek Valley of the Arikaree Breaks in northwest Kansas in December of 1864.  On January 1, 1865 the leaders of the assembled warriors decided to attack Fort Rankin and Julesberg Colorado, some 90 miles to the north.  The warriors traveled north  through Devils Gap ( a particularly beautiful section of the breaks) and attacked the fort on January 6-7. 1865.  The small contingent of soldiers were no match for the powerful warriors.  The fort and supply stores were plundered and vengeance was obtained.  Today the encampment area has several metal sculptures created by a local artist to commemorate the gathering and honor the legacy of the Native American warriors.  It is quite easy to look down in the Cherry Creek valley and imagine the 1000 tipis and their inhabitants roaming along the creek's edge.

        We then returned to the town of St. Francis and proceeded north through town.  Shortly outside of town the paved road turned into a narrow dirt road.  Back in the 1980's a local man erected dozens of red disc signs throughout the county to label important sites throughout the area.  There are 14 of these signs along the road through the Breaks.  We stopped at each one and enjoyed the stark, quite beauty of the area.  The highlight of the drive was Lookout Point at the top of the Breaks.  From here you could see for several miles across the canyons and ravines that make up the Arikaree Breaks.  In the quiet, we could hear a cow that was at least a mile away from us,  mooing as she ran to catch up with the rest of her herd.  We walked down the road a bit and simply enjoyed the view.

       The Arikaree Breaks are 36 miles in length and extend from the northwest corner of Cheyenne County to the southeast.  They are two to three miles wide at their widest points.  They were formed over thousands of years.  Glaciers pushed silt and sand forward as they migrated south forming a silty layer of soil called loess.  Over the years wind and water erosion carved this unique series of ravines and canyons creating what we now call the Arikaree Breaks.  They were named for the nearby Arikaree River.  They are now considered to be one of the 8 natural wonders of the state of Kansas.  The area is very arid with short grass and cactus throughout.  It sits in stark brown contrast when compared to the lush green of the Flint Hills 200 miles to the east.  You can easily tell that the area is in the throes of drought.

        Once we had traversed the length of the scenic byway we turned back to the south a few miles and then to the west to pick up the even narrower road through the Devil's Gap area of the Arikaree Breaks.  This was a little anti-climatic as we passed the pinnacle of the scenic view without knowing it so we weren't able to stop and really take it in.  By then we knew we needed to continue west so did not turn back.

        One aside I want to mention.  Last week I traveled Kansas Highway 36 eastward from Concordia to Marysville.  Today I was at the opposite end of Kansas traveling the same highway.  We decided that once we finish our Route 66 adventures, we would definitely need to travel the length of Highway 36 from one end of Kansas to the other.

        We drove on to Fort Collins Colorado and tomorrow Ken will shoot in his Glock Meet at the Weld County Shooting Range.  I think we are in one of the smallest hotel rooms I've ever seen and definitely one of the strangest room layouts.  It's just one night and as Tom Bodine always said, they all look alike in the dark (I think).

Our Week in the (Hot) South

Greetings from Beautiful Beaufort!

We have had a whirlwind week. There’s way too much to cover in one post so I’ll just touch on the highlights of each day.

Monday: I already covered the morning. In the afternoon we drove over to Hilton Head just to say we’d been there. Found a little park called Mitchelville Freedom Park. It is on the site of a town called Mitchellville which was built by the slaves who were freed during the Civil War. We also walked around the ruins of Fort Howell, a Union Civil War fort. All that’s left are the earthwork walls and the moat. It gives you a good idea of what these costal forts were really like.

Tuesday: We drove to Charleston and took a carriage tour of the Old Town. It was interesting. Saw lots of churches and historical homes. Heard several stories. Not sure how true they were. I learned that Charleston is called the Holy City because of all the churches. It was a little like they were trying to see who could build the tallest steeple!  I also learned that Charleston has had 1 major earthquake, two major fires and a few hurricanes. It was also severely damaged during the War Between the States. The main thing I got from the tour was that the guide was having a difficult time controlling the horse because he was new. That was interesting. We pooped out after lunch due to the heat so we just drove around a little and then visited the Fort Sumter Visitor’s Center. The highlight of the day was dinner with my aunt Luana and my Uncle Adrian. It was so nice to see and visit with them. Our time was not long enough.

Wednesday: Our day was spent in Savannah. What a beautiful city! I just love how all the neighborhoods in the old part of town were built around gorgeous squares.  We took a hop on/hop off trolley and rode it all the way around first. Then we hopped off and toured the Historical Museum. It’s a typical smallish museum with semi old displays. I did enjoy the special exhibit on Juliette Gordon Lowe, the founder of the American Girl Scouts who is from Savannah. She was an interesting lady.  We hopped back on the trolley and hopped off again at Chatham Square.  Why? Because that’s where they filmed the bench scenes from Forrest Gump. We saw bench #4 from the movie in the museum. Ken took my picture and that’s all I’m going to say about that.  Back on and then off the trolley at St. John the Baptist Cathedral. WOW! It was gorgeous. Then the thunderstorm rolled in so we sprinted through raindrops back to the trolley after spending a few minutes in a parking garage. Dinner was at Paula Deen’s Lady and Sons. A bit of a let down but ok.

Thursday: Back to Charleston we go. We took the boat out to Fort Sumter. The fort began as a blockade fort during the War of 1812. At the beginning of the War Against the States it was a Union fort. The Confederates starved them out and took over the fort. The Union bombarded the fort down from 5 stories to the foundation and regained control. It was rebuilt and eventually turned over to the Park service. It was a very interesting place but we didn’t have enough time to see everything as they only gave us 45 minutes on the island. On the way home from Charleston we stopped by the ruins of the Old Sheldon Church, a Revolutionary War structure that was plundered and burned during the War Against the States. Beautiful!

Friday: I think we saved the best for last. I hadn’t intended to go to the beach because I figured we would be busy seeing history. However, our hosts insisted that we needed to go out to Hunting Island State Park so we did.  Oh my was it beautiful and well worth it. We took off our shoes and socks and strolled through the 84 degree water for about a quarter mile. It was fantastic. I got my beach fix. Then we climbed 167 steps to the top of the lighthouse in the 90 degree heat. From the top you could see for miles and it was degrees cooler. I could’ve spent all day there but we didn’t have appropriate beach attire and we were both feeling the heat so we threw in the towel and went back to the apartment for the afternoon. Dinner was at a cute restaurant called Wren. I had Shrimp and grits. A first for me. It was tasty.

So that was our week in the Lowcountry. We didn’t see or do everything we wanted to do so we will just have to come back some day. Tomorrow it’s off to Charlotte.

Lowcountry Day

Back in April I asked Ken where he wanted to go for vacation. After several inquiries over the course of a few weeks he said he’d like to go to Beaufort to see where the movie “The Big Chill” as filmed. That sounded good to me because I figured we could also sneak in a visit with my aunt Luana in Charleston. So, I began my usual pouring over vacation rentals and hotel ratings to find just the right place for just the right price. By the first of May I had everything planned and reserved and then didn’t think a whole lot more about it. Late last week I hustled around and booked a History/Movie tour here in Beaufort but that’s been the extent of my planning.

Our drive here was long (18+ hours) and we encountered our share of traffic and crazy drivers including a guy and a girl talking through their car windows as they were driving down the interstate in Augusta, Georgia! Of course they were taking up both lanes of traffic and couldn’t be passed. Our first day out we stopped for lunch in Little Rock so we could see Ken’s brother Don. Then we drove on to Tupelo (Siri says “TOO-pelow”) because it was halfway more or less. Because it was here, we drove over to Elvis Presley’s birthplace. There is a whole little complex built around the tiny two room shotgun house where he spent the first 14 years of his life.  It was evening so everything was closed but we were able to walk around and take pictures.  We had some trouble finding it and then had trouble finding downtown and getting back to our motel. What we discovered was that the map we were using was printed upside down and that we’d been going in the opposite direction each time.  My useless fact for the day was that Tupelo was hit by an F5 tornado in 1936 that is still ranked as one of the deadliest tornadoes in history.  At least 250 whites were killed and an unknown number of blacks. Sadly no one valued their lives enough to count. 

Sunday we drove through Mississippi, Georgia and South Carolina and arrived in Beaufort about 7:00 pm. It didn’t dawn on me until Saturday night that we would be changing over to Eastern time!  Found our little rental studio easily and collapsed. 

This morning we got up early and found a quaint cafe called Blackstones for breakfast. We had some time to kill so walked around downtown a bit. Beaufort is called Beautiful Beaufort and it is easy to see why. Many of the buildings date back to the 19th century and some as far back as the late 1700s. Stopped in at the Visitors Center for a map and then headed back to the place where we were to pick up our van tour. 

Evelene was our tour guide and is the owner of the Spirit of Old Beaufort tours. She was quite a character and was very knowledgeable about the area. She said she used to do her tours in full antebellum clothing but couldn’t do it anymore because it was too hard in the heat. Our tour mates were late to start and got lost so we got a late start. That wasn’t a problem because we weren’t on a time schedule anyway. Our tour was quite interesting. 

The Beaufort area was first claimed by the Spanish in about 1650. The French took it from Spain and then the British under King Charles took it from France. In the 1700 and 1800s slaves outnumbered whites. In 1861 at the start of the “Recent Unpleasantness” aka the Civil War the Union Army took the port of Charleston at Fort Sumter.  The whites in Beaufort feared for their lives so they fled south and east leaving behind their slaves, their homes and most of their possessions. The slaves called it The Great Skeedaddle. The next day the slaves dressed in their owners clothing and stood on the banks of the harbor waving white hankies to welcome the Union ships and forces. They became contraband but were able to work for wages. Many of the slaves were able to save enough money to buy the great homes left behind by the whites at tax sales. A few joined the Union army for the duration of the war. Some notable names who came to Beaufort during the war included Harriet Tubman. I learned later in the day that Tubman led a battle on the Combahee River that resulted in the freeing of 700 slaves!

During our tour we saw movie sites from “The Big Chill”, “Forrest Gump”, “The Great Santini” and “The Prince of Tides”, among others.  The Tidalholm house was used for the Great Santini and the Big Chill. It was for sale for 4 years with an asking price of 4 million dollars. It sold for around 1.5 mil. Apparently it needed repairs because it is undergoing major renovation. I’d like to share a photo but I am too tired to figure out how so I’ll add it to Facebook instead. 

There was more to our day but I’ll have to add it later as I’m starting to see double. Tomorrow it’s off to Charleston!