Of Traces and Trails

I am finally in Asheville - actually Madison County, NC about 30 minutes from Asheville.  This is a bit of heaven, but I'll tell you all about it tomorrow.  Today I thought I'd reflect on my drive East from Santa Fe to here.  I drove along two historical trails, originally buffalo migration routes that Native Americans turned into trails and that European migrants turned into roads.  They are the Santa Fe Trail from Santa Fe to western Missouri and the Osage Trace along the Ozark mountains

I had no idea our national park service maintains nearly 20 routes - called trails or traces - that have historical significance.  But if you are ever planning a roadtrip I suggest you investigate these routes.  The Santa Fe National Historic Trail dates back to the early 1800's. Over 900 miles long, it was THE route the military used in the Mexican-American war and, once the southwest territories were opened up for development, it became the primary route people travelled when going from Missouri (the embarkation point for all Western travel) to Santa Fe via stagecoach or horseback, whether for settling, for searching for Gold in California, for trading, or just for adventure.  The trail really stopped being used by the end of the century when the railroad became the easier way to make the journey, and of course nowadays most people in cars take the interstate highways.  That means there is little traffic today on this historical, and well maintained byway.  Today, you'd never know this was once THE route for international commerce and communications teaming with busy adventurous people seeking their fame and fortune and prosperous towns protected by military posts growing all along its length.  Today, the route is used for farm vehicles, locals and the occasional tourist like me as it shows off the land and the small towns that hark back to life two centuries ago.

I actually picked up the trail in Santa Fe and followed it to Kenton and Black Mesa Park.  From there I followed it into Kansas and along southern Missouri. 

There was a lot about Kansas I hadn't known.  For instance, it is NOT the flattest state in the country.  I don't know what is - perhaps South Dakota - but where I entered the State, in the southwestern most corner which is up around 4000', and for most of my 200 or so mile-long descent into the southeastern most corner, it is undulating hills with beautiful grassy meadows and forests.  Kansas looks prosperous.  It is lush.  Despite the fact that most of the landscape I saw is empty of people and signs of commerce, and most of the towns I passed through were very, very small, some even ghost towns, there is a sense of modernity.  The gas station was new and spiffy; no general store attached, in fact no people necessary at all, thank you, just your credit card in the gas dispenser.  In juxtaposition to the occasional oil rig sawing lazily, there are huge wind farms capturing the strong breezes.  And a sign before a rest stop doesn't just announce food or restroom facilities, it announces wireless Internet access availability.

Tramp and I stopped at Fall River for a picnic and rest.  This is a 1000 acre park with a 2500 acre reservoir adjacent to 8000 acres of public wildlife reserve.  It was a glorious day.  I sat at a picnic table setting up lunch and Tramp ran down the hillside into the water and had a 5 or 10 minute swim.  Afterward we sat under a tree reading, dreaming, and drying off.  The park could not have been better maintained.  It had the electricity and plumbing for people in driving in with campers.  It had showers and large, clean toilet facilities.  There was a bright and well equipped playground for kids.

The one difficulty in Kansas, for a newly mostly vegetarian me, was food.  Kansas means steak.  The restaurants may have large menus with lots of options, but they all involve steak in one form or another.  The history of Kansas is tied to buffalo and then to cattle and it's people know what they like and it is meat.  Even the salads come decked out with meat.  I did get a good baked potato, some really good fried (yes, fried) green beans, and some awful cooked spinach, but if you find yourself going to Kansas and don't eat meat, be sure to bring your own food along.  Otherwise, you may find yourself very hungry.

In contrast to Kansas is Missouri, the end (or beginning) of the Santa Fe trail.  Now Missouri is really middle America.  It is the end of the East and entry to the West.  It's culture is a mix of mid-west and south,  Unlike Kansas, it is densely populated.  And these people mirror nearly perfectly the demographic, economic, and political mix of the rest of the US.  And to me, this was worrisome for as I drove across the state what I saw was decline and poverty.

Mark Twain wilderness

Now, in fairness, I drove along the southern boarder of the state close to Arkansas.  This is Ozark mountain territory which is densely forested hard wood trees.  I left the Santa Fe trail and picked up the Osage Trace, an Indian route. The cities of Missouri may give a visitor a different sense of the state, I don't know.  But if you've seen the movie Winter's Bone, you've seen the land and the people I saw.  Tramp and I pulled off the road into the Mark Twain wilderness area and drove several miles along dirt roads.  The homes are scary.  They are shacks that tilt and look like they will collapse in a mild wind.  Nothing is maintained.  The cars are old and rusted.  The people are rail thin with long hair and full beards.  They may be educated, I don't know.  They certainly were friendly and kind to me offering advice about picnic spots and picture outlooks.  And I don't know if this is where the movie was filmed or not, but this could definitely be an economy based on methamphetamine labs because it looks like there would be little else that could possible sustain it.  As beautiful as the mountains are, I was happy to get into Tennessee.

I did drive through 2 cities unexpectedly.  Because of some highway construction, I was rerouted through Wichita; and because of my father-in-law's death, I drove into Nashville.  This is not a trip about cities, but I must say I was struck by how livable and likable both these cities seemed.  Wichita, like the rest of the state, seemed to be thriving.  It has a remarkable amount of public art out along its main streets.  The streets were bustling; I did not see closed shops or for lease signs.  The architecture is old west and appropriate, tho there were several tall modern buildings.  It looked like it would be comfortable for living, for working, for having fun.

As for Nashville, this trip I really only got to know it through a handful of its people. (I have spent time in Nashville before.  My step-daughter's best friend lived there for a while and we visited her and her husband there.)  Graciousness is the word that describes what I experienced both then and in this brief interlude.   The people at Dogtopia, at the airport, the cabbies, the waiters all could not have been nicer, more thoughtful, more kind.  Even the design of the roadways and the buildings' architecture seem to be done with consideration of others.  Lovely homes grace the city as you drive in and out.  I don't know much about Tennessee but I get the sense that Nashville is to the rest of the state as Austin is to Texas - a special enclave with its own culture and values.  I certainly have nothing but praise for it and overwhelming good feelings.

At any rate,  I am now very happy to be in western North Carolina.  More about Ponder Cove and Asheville tomorrow.