Summer 2010 Westward Journey Part III: Through Nebraska, Wyoming, and into Colorado

Chadron was a pleasant place to spend the night. The next morning, after a great breakfast with the local farmers at a main street café, I continued heading west out of town following US Highway 20. The scenery and the day were both fantastic. Incredible green fields stretching across the plains to abut clay buttes with their flanks covered in pine forests rising abruptly from the farmland.  

Amazing country near Chadron, Nebraska.

About 30 minutes from Chadron I pulled over to view a roadside historical marker. One of the things I love about traveling off the Interstate Freeways and along the slower highways are the historical markers that dot the country side. Usually with signed notification a mile in advance you discover a historical, geologic, or cultural story related to the place, or nearby location. I always try to stop and read roadside markers as it adds so much towards a greater understanding and appreciation of the countryside.

The last part of this historical marker was for the Treaty Tree. The text on the sign was intriguing so I decided to detour the one mile north to try and find the tree. After bouncing down a rough, rutted, and dusty road I found another historic marker essentially saying the same thing – although this time referring to it as the Council Tree.

A more recent stone marker further elaborated the story.

Looking across the farmland I imagined September 1875 and thousands of Native Americans with a small delegation of government officials being camped on this very plain. Under a cottonwood tree a series of discussions and negations occurring because of a broken promise to keep the settlers out of the sacred Black Hills. I felt it must have been a courageous decision to turn down the money (but how can you ever place a monetary value of sacred lands?) knowing that perhaps a bleak future may eventually result. I was glad I stopped to explore a tree now gone but with markers to tell a sad overlooked story in American history.

 
I carried onwards and was soon at another historic landmark – but this one was far more extensive than just a roadside sign.

I collected a brochure about this place which is described as: "one of the great historic places of the American West." A little more detail on the history.


Camp Robinson was one of several army posts established to protect Indian agencies. The US Government in establishing agencies (the forerunner to reservations) promised to provide protection from settlers and others wanting land or wishing to cause harm to Native Americans and their property. From 1874 to 1878, the post provided security for nearby Red Cloud Agency as well as being home for some 11,000 Indians from the northern plains. The death of the great Sioux Chief Crazy Horse occurred at the Fort on September 5 1877. The soldiers also guarded the Sidney-Deadwood Trail which was an important overland route to the Black Hills and the surrounding region. Although the agency was moved in 1877 to southern South Dakota and renamed the Pine Ridge Reservation Camp Robinson remained. As an indication of its permanent status, the designation "Camp" was changed to "Fort" in 1878. The mid-1880s brought a critical change to the history of Fort Robinson. The Fremont, Elkhorn & Missouri Valley Railroad passed through the area and the army decided to expand the post. The railroad gave Fort Robinson a new strategic importance as soldiers from the post could quickly be transported to trouble spots across the mid-section of the US. In the late 1880s the fort was greatly enlarged and replaced Fort Laramie, Wyoming, as the most important military post in the region. Another significant event in Fort Robinson's history occurred in 1885, when the first African American soldiers of the Ninth Cavalry arrived. At that time the U.S. Army was totally segregated, with two cavalry regiments composed of black soldiers. From 1887 to 1898 the post was regimental headquarters for the Ninth Cavalry. During the years 1885 through 1907 the majority of the troops stationed at Fort Robinson were African American.

The massive parade grounds at Fort Robinson.

Soldiers from Fort Robinson served in the conflicts on the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation during the 1890s. They were also sent to help quell several outbreaks of civil disorder during the 1890s. After 1900 the fort continued as regimental headquarters for the Tenth (the other black cavalry regiment), Eighth, and Twelfth Cavalry regiments. In 1916 the remaining units at Fort Robinson were transferred for duty along the Mexican border. The post was virtually abandoned throughout the World War I years. In 1919 Fort Robinson gained new life as a quartermaster remount depot. The Quartermaster Corps was the branch of the U.S. Army responsible for supplies, equipment, and animals (horses, mules, and dogs). As a remount depot the post became an animal processing center for the cavalry and horse drawn artillery. The Fort was the primary location in the country were horses were received, examined, cared for, trained, and eventually issued to mounted army units throughout the national and at service overseas. Other military functions were carried on at the post during the remount period. From 1928 to 1931 the Fourth Field Artillery, a pack-artillery battalion, was headquartered here. From 1933 to 1935 the post served as a Civilian Conservation Corps camp, regional headquarters, and hospital center.

The row of offices houses at Fort Robinson.

 

The busiest years at Fort Robinson were those of World War II. As the nature of the conflict using new technology and tactics most cavalry regiments were dismounted. This resulted in large numbers of horses shipped to the remount depot. By 1943 there were 12,000 horses at Fort Robinson. Here the horse herd was gradually surplused. But the training of pack mules at the post greatly increased during the war years. By the end of the war nearly 10,000 mules had been trained or issued. In the fall of 1942 a K-9 Corps reception and training center was established at the fort. Until war's end, more than 14,000 dogs for the army, army air force, navy, coast guard, and civilian agencies were trained here. In 1943 a prisoner of war camp was constructed on the military reservation between the post and town of Crawford. The POW camp was built to house German 3,000 prisoners. The first prisoners to arrive at Fort Robinson came from Rommel's Tenth Panzer Division in North Africa. Riding the train from Northampton, Virginia, the German POWs arrived on November 19, 1943.

After the war the various military activities at the post were phased out. In 1947 the army decided to abandon Fort Robinson after 73 years of use. The old post was transferred to the United States Department of Agriculture for use as a beef research station. The U.S.D.A. operations continued at the fort until the early 1970s. From the 1950s onwards many of the old buildings needed much maintenance. Often it was decided it was more cost effective simply to demolish which eventually led to efforts to preserve the fort as a historic site and recreational park. The Nebraska State Historical Society established a branch museum here in 1955. About the same time Fort Robinson State Park was created in a part of the old post area. After the beef research operation was phased out, the remaining post area and military reservation was transferred to the state of Nebraska for public use as a state park.

Driving around the old fort it was hard not to be impressed as the size of the place – and also its remoteness. A recurring theme that was to repeat numerous times on this cross country trip was that much history occurred in this place.

 
The character of the landscapes now changed as a continued west along the far northwest corner of Nebraska. I got the photo I was hoping for – a herd of bison (also known as buffalo) on the Great Plains. Imagine the days of immense herds of these majestic animals stretching for as far as the eye could see.

Bison on the Great Plains - between Fort Robinson and Harrison.

 
Then at the little town of Harrison almost at the border of Wyoming I turned south along a desolate stretch of Highway heading for a fascinating visit to Agate Fossil Beds National Monument.

It doesn't get much more desolate than this – Nebraska Highway 29 south of Harrison.

The main features of this National Monument run by the National Park Service are located in a valley of the Niobrara River. Two small bluffs known as Carnegie Hill and University Hill produced some of the most important fossils finds from the Miocene era (the geologic period from 23 to 5 million years before the present). The visitor's center had an amazing collection of fossils from the site, including Miohippus, an ancestor of the modern horse, Menoceras, a pony-sized rhinoceros, Amphicyon, a massive dog that ate bears called Daeodon, Entelodont, a giant pig-like animal, and Stenomylus, a type of camel.

The site is also famous for fossils of Palaeocastor. These were originally thought to be the fossilized remains of plants but it is now proved to be the corkscrew-shaped burrows of a long extinct beaver. I went for a walk into the hills to see these (it was somewhat amusing protected from the elements by what looked like a plastic telephone booth.

But in addition to the fossils there is another element to the history of Agate Beds National Monument. I've copied the following from the National Park website. Originally the land was part of Agate Springs Ranch, a working cattle ranch, owned by Capt. James Cook [not the same guy as the explorer who claimed New Zealand for the British in 1769]. When James Cook first arrived in this area, he chanced to meet Red Cloud of the Oglala Lakota Sioux. They were able to communicate with sign language and over the years James learned some of the spoken language as well. The chance encounter led to a lifelong friendship which resulted in visits to Cook's ranch by Red Cloud and his people. The Sioux traveled 150 miles by horse and wagon from the Pine Ridge Reservation in South Dakota for these visits to Cook's Agate Springs Ranch in Nebraska. They needed a pass to leave the reservation and needed the pass to return to it. Once they had settled into their camp they worked for James Cook, hunted, and held traditional dances and ceremonies that were banned on the reservation. Cook noted that "this was more than a "visit", they seemed to melt back to a time when their lives were spent hunting, following game, harvesting native plants, and trading with other people." During these visits, the Lakota and Northern Cheyenne tribes gave gifts to James Cook and his family and received beef and hides in return. Some of the gifts were made especially for the Cooks including buckskin suits and gloves. Other items were very special, such as a shirt which had belonged to Chief Red Cloud, three generations of peace pipe bags (one belonging to Red Cloud, his father, and his son), and sharpening stone from Chief Crazy Horse.

 
James Cook and his descendants concluded that these gifts should remain in the immediate area of the ranch. When the National Park Service constructed the current visitor center in the early 1990s, it designated two rooms for the display of the James H. Cook Collection. It was an incredible collection and I thanked the foresight of the Cook family for looking after these treasures so well and insisting that they remain close to the land where they were received as gifts.

   
I carried on south on an increasingly warm day passing through Mitchell, crossing the mighty North Platte River, and onto the historic route of the wagons following the Oregon Trail. My first experiences in the US were working on the Mt. Hood National Forest. This was one of the last sections of the 2,000 mile journey for an estimated 400,000 settlers on their overland trail from St. Louis to Portland. So, I was interested to visit a famous stopping place that the pioneers reached much earlier in their struggle westwards.

  Oregon Trail wagon beneath Scotts Bluff.

Scotts Bluff National Monument protects an impressive looking bluff that was an important 19th century landmark on the Oregon Trail. The bluff called Scotts Bluff rises over 830 feet (330 m) above the plains at its highest point. The collection of bluffs was first charted by non-native people in 1812 by the Astorian Expedition of fur traders traveling along the river. The expedition party noted the bluffs as the first large rock formations along the river where the Great Plains started giving way to the foothills of the Rocky Mountains. Their findings were not widely communicated, however, because of the War of 1812. In 1823 the route to the Rocky Mountains was rediscovered, and the bluffs became a regular landmark for fur traders in the region. The most prominent bluff was named after a fur trader named Hiram Scott who died near the bluff in 1828. Fur traders, missionaries, and military expeditions began regular trips past Scotts Bluff during the 1830s. Beginning in 1841, multitudes of settlers passed by Scotts Bluff on their way west on the Oregon Trail with wagon trains using the bluff as a major landmark for navigation across a largely featureless plain. Use of the route tapered off in 1869 when the trail was made obsolete by the completion of the transcontinental railroad. Scotts Bluff and several nearby bluffs were proclaimed a National Monument on December 12, 1919, and placed under the National Park Service which had been created just three years prior.


I paid a visit to the Oregon Trail Museum and Visitor Center built at the base of the bluff. The interesting exhibits told the story of the geology but mostly focused on the westward expansion of the US and the experiences of the pioneers. It is amazing to think my journey from Minneapolis to California would take me a leisurely 6 days whereas the average time for a wagon to traverse the Oregon Trail was 130 days.

After a world class BBQ sausage sandwich in the nearby town of Gering I continued south on Highway 71 then west again on County Road 88 to cross from Nebraska into Wyoming.

Along this stretch on my journey I passed many small fenced in enclosures located in the farm fields but close to the road. After my visit to the Minute Man National Historic Site in South Dakota I recognized what these were – still active nuclear armed missile silos. It is hard to imagine the scene if you were passing this very spot if one of these were to be launched. Explosive gas generators would blast open the 80-ton doors covering the missile silos, and the nuclear-tipped Minutemen would begin streaking toward targets half a world away. I would not want to be where I took this photo when that happens (in fact, I don't want to be anywhere when this happens so let's hope it never does).

One of 450 nuclear-armed ICBMs that remain on active alert in three "fields" throughout the central United States. This one close to the Nebraska/Wyoming border on County Road 88 is controlled from Warren Airforce Base in Wyoming.



On my diagonal cut across the southeast corner I firstly drove through the small town of La Grange, a town which according to Wikipedia has just 322 residents and is home to a large Bible College of just 220 students whose buildings dominated the downtown. Another hour and I was into Cheyenne, the capital and largest city of Wyoming. Having really enjoyed my tour of the state capital in Pierre, South Dakota I decided to repeat the experience.

 Wyoming State capitol.

Because of Wyoming's location at the intersection of the Louisiana Purchase, the Oregon Country, and the Mexican Cession, the land which became Wyoming has a complicated history of territorial relationships. Portions of the territory which became Wyoming were at various points associated with Washington, Oregon, Idaho, Dakota, Nebraska, and Utah, and had previously belonged to the independent states of Great Britain, France, Spain, Mexico, and Texas. The Territory of Wyoming was created by Act of Congress on July 25, 1868. It was admitted to the Union as the 44th state on July 10, 1890.

On July 4, 1867, a survey crew platted the site now known as Cheyenne in what was then the Dakota Territory (later Wyoming Territory). This site was chosen as the point at which the Union Pacific Railroad was planned to cross Crow Creek, a tributary of the South Platte River. It was named for the Native American Cheyenne nation ("Shy-an"), one of the most famous and prominent Great Plains tribes. Almost instantly the town attracted settlers who felt the imminent construction of the Union Pacific Railroad through the area would bring prosperity. By the time the first track was built into Cheyenne November 13, 1867, over four thousand people had migrated into the new city. Because Cheyenne sprang up like magic in just four months, it became known as "Magic City of the Plains". Many left with the westward construction of the railroad but those staying were joined by gamblers, saloon owners, thieves, opportunists, prostitutes, displaced cowboys, miners, transient railroad gangs, proper business men, and soldiers from "Camp Cheyenne," (later named F.E. Warren Air Force Base). On December 10, 1869, territorial Governor John Allen Campbell signed a suffrage act into law making Wyoming the first U.S. state to grant women the right to vote. Wyoming thus claims to be the first government in the world to grant women the right to vote [although the US did not grant the right until 1920 making New Zealand the first country to in 1893]. Unlike Colorado to the south, Wyoming never experienced a boom from gold or mineral wealth and today with a population of 544,270 it is the least populated of the 50 states (despite being the 10^th largest in size).



The construction of the capitol was authorized in Wyoming Territory in 1886 before statehood was granted. The Ninth Territorial Legislature Assembly specified that the cost should not exceed US$150,000. Governor Francis E. Warren appointed a five-member commission to select and purchase a site in Cheyenne, as well as to select an architect and solicit for construction. The commission selected the architectural firm of David W. Gibbs & Company, which submitted plans and specification, which were accepted in July 1886. The construction contract was awarded to Adam Freick & Brothers, which submitted the lowest bid at $136,275.12. Construction began on September 9, 1886 and was completed by May 1887. As the state grew over the next few decades, the building became increasingly cramped. In 1915, the State Legislative authorized the construction of the House and Senate chambers, which were completed in March 1917.



I collected a free brochure from the public affairs department and began my self-guided tour. The interior of the building features is dominated by a ground-floor rotunda from which the interior of the central dome is directly visible overhead. The dome features blue and green stained glass imported from England. The offices of four of Wyoming's five elected officials— Governor, Secretary of State, Auditor, and Treasurer— have their offices on the ground floor surrounding the rotunda.

The beautiful done inside the rotunda.

The ground floor contained several large taxidermy specimens of species often associated with Wyoming, including a mounted bison which was raised with the state herd in near the town of Thermopolis. The bison weighed approximately 3,000 lb (1,350 kg) while living, and is the third largest bison recorded.

 Big Bison.

The Senate chamber is the west wing of the second floor building; the House chamber is in the east wing of the second floor. Each chamber contains four impressively large murals by Allen True, who painted them in August 1917 for a cost of $500 each. The murals depict various aspects of the culture, history, and industry of Wyoming. The ceilings of both chambers are inlaid with Tiffany-style stained glass, with the Wyoming State Seal displayed in the center. 

Wyoming State Senate.

The brochure suggested a visit to Legislative Conference Room 302 is a must. Given that the Legislature was not in session I was free to essentially wander about the building. The reason this room is recommended is that a 1,000-lb, Tiffany chandelier, originally located elsewhere in the capitol, hangs beneath a beautiful four-pane stained glass ceiling.

Now late afternoon I had a session of Interstate driving as there really wasn't any alternative routes. I picked up I 25 crossed out of Wyoming and into Colorado skirting Denver's rush hour traffic. As I climbed on west through the foothills of the Rocky Mountains following Interstate 70 I reflected on the journey so far – dominated by the Great Plains. This broad expanse of prairie, farmland, and butte dominated grassland lying west of the Mississippi River and east of the Rocky Mountains plays such a pivotal role in US history. Be it pre-historic such as the fossils I saw at the Agate Beds, incredible eroded landscapes at the Badlands, or the complicated and at times tragic history of conflict between Native Americans and America's desire for westward expansion. That history continues through to the Cold War and the ongoing stationing of the most powerful and destructive weapons ever devised deep within the remote areas of the plains. The distances are vast, the settlements spare, and perhaps lacking in major tourist attractions but I love the Great Plains. To me they represent one of iconic landscapes of America.



I now entered another famous American landscape – the Rocky Mountains. Indeed, mountains would dominate the next chapter of my journey but for now I had only a little further to drive as my destination for the night was wonderful little town called Idaho Springs.

In early January of 1859, George Andrew Jackson, left his winter camp at the site of present-day Golden, Colorado to go on a hunting trip. While camped out on a sandbar where Chicago Creek flows into Clear Creek, Jackson decided to pan some of the thawed gravel around his campfire. Using his drinking cup, he washed out gold nuggets . It was the first substantial gold discovery in Colorado. Jackson, a Missouri native with experience in the California gold fields, was drawn to the area by clouds of steam rising from some nearby hot springs. Jackson kept his find secret for several months, but after he paid for some supplies with gold dust, others rushed to Jackson's diggings. The location was originally known as "Jackson's Diggings" but once the location became a permanent settlement, it was variously called "Idahoe" "Idaho City," and finally "Idaho Springs."  The name Idaho being a based on the word Edauhoe meaning 'gem of the mountains' in the language of the native Arapahoe tribe.

Just like George Jackson it was the hot springs that drew me here. A number of years ago when skiing at the nearby Winter Park resort I came for a soak in the pools. I loved the experience and decided to stay the night at the hotel as it included admission to the pools in the price. They have a large indoor pool as well as these incredible cave baths.

Complete with flowering plants among live banana and palm trees the swimming pool is continually fed with hot mineral water at 115 degrees. With an overall temperature of 90 degrees.

Two tunnels were carved into the solid rock mountain side, between 1903 and 1911, specifically for the purpose of creating this unique "One of a Kind" facility. One cave for men and another for women, each with several huge, sunken, walk-in hot tubs filled with naturally hot mineral water at temperatures from 104 to 112 degrees. I had the tunnel to myself for a really wonderful experience deep within a mountain enjoying the warm water. Needless to say I sleep very well after a long day of driving, seeing more incredible sights and a long hot soak in the thermal waters.

 

Summer 2010 Westward Journey Part II: Through South Dakota

Carrying on westwards I left my home state of Minnesota and now entered South Dakota. 

Welcome to South Dakota - note the wind turbines in the background.

 
A quick stop for a photo of the state welcome sign then on towards the small town (population 208) of Bruce. I should mention that at this point I called my Dad on my cellphone  – his name is Bruce. I think he really appreciated the connection.



With darkness approaching I made a turn south heading to Arlington for an amazingly good BBQ burger at a restaurant called 1481 Grille (the name coming from its location at the intersection of US Highways 14 and 81 – not the year of its founding). One more hour of nighttime driving brought me to Huron. This was a fairly typical mid-western farming community of 12,000 (including a good selection of cheap roadside motels) but it is more famous for having the world's largest statue of a ring-necked pheasant.

 

This gamebird, originally from Russia and China was introduced into North America for hunting in 1857 (interestingly the same species was also introduced into New Zealand in 1851). Despite being fairly widespread across the mid-section of America it is found in very large numbers on the plains of South Dakota. Pheasant hunting is a $219 million per year industry for South Dakota. 

After an adequate nights rest including a free breakfast it was onwards following US Highway 14 through remarkably flat farmland – mostly cattle farming but also a little wheat. Roadside signs told me I was on the Black and Yellow Trail although I had to look on the Internet to find that is an old promotional name for US 14 as it links the Black Hills of South Dakota to Yellowstone National Park. Shortly after the town of Blunt I crossed the 100th meridian west.

Another half hour and I was downtown in Pierre, the capital of South Dakota. With a population of just 13,876 it is the second least populous state capital after Montpelier, Vermont. I found a car park right outside the state capital.

In 1861, the Dakota Territory was established by the United States government (this initially included North Dakota, South Dakota, and parts of Montana and Wyoming). The Dakota Territory consisted of the northernmost part of the land acquired in the Louisiana Purchase from France. Settlement of the Dakota Territory, mostly by people from the eastern United States as well as western and northern Europe increased steadily, especially after the completion of an eastern railway link to Yankton in 1873 and the discovery of gold in the Black Hills in 1874.  An increasing population caused the Dakota Territory to be divided in half and U.S. President Benjamin Harrison signed proclamations formally admitting both South Dakota and North Dakota to the union on November 2, 1889 making them the39th and 40th States.  Harrison had the papers shuffled to obscure which one was signed first and the actual order went unrecorded.

During the Territorial period, the towns of Bismarck, Huron, Yankton, and Pierre all served terms as the capital city.  When South Dakota became an independent state it was decided that it was also time to establish a permanent capital city. Many towns campaigned for this position, very much like a political campaign. The central location is what helped Pierre win the campaign but the City went into debt for 30 years because of the amount of money they spent on their campaign to become the capital city.

I wandered inside this magnificent building and found the information desk who provided me with a wonderfully informative brochure for a self-guided tour. The highlights of which are copied below.

The building was constructed between 1905 and 1910. The plans for the building were done by the Minneapolis architectural office of C.E. Bell and M.S. Detwiler, who based the design on the Montana State Capitol in Helena, Montana.  The impressive front stairs brought me to the second floor entrance with a marble staircase opening onto a rotunda. 

The dome of the rotunda is 96 feet high. 

The floor in the capitol building is made of terrazzo tile. The floor is said to have been laid by 66 Italian artists. To give these artists a chance to place their signatures in the building (without allowing them to actually sign their names to the floor), each is said to have been given a blue stone to place in the floor. Only 55 of these tiles have been found, however. It is thought that the remaining stones may have been placed in locations now covered by walls, doors, or carpeting.

  One of the legendary blue tiles.

The third floor houses the state's House of Representatives and the state's Senate. I was amazed to learn that by state constitution members of both the House and Senate work only 40 days per year (and this was only recently increased from 35 days per year).

South Dakota House of Representatives.

 
After a quick lunch it was across the mighty Missouri River (the longest river in the US), across a timezone into Mountain Time (winding my watch back an hour), and across increasingly desolate, dry, and very marginal looking farmland following US 14.  After 60 miles I arrived into a little town called Midland. An old rusty sign at the edge of town had a most curious message.

I detoured into the town and on the main street found The Stroppel Inn and Hot Mineral Baths. The third-generation, family-owned inn has been offering hot baths, sweats, and massages since 1939. I stopped and for the incredible low price of $3.25 had a wonderful soak. The old hotel has two thermal baths, each about the size of a hot tub, but not as modern. In fact, they looked kind of gross with a strong sulfur smell that comes with geothermal water. But, it was so relaxing, so intriguing, and so unexpected. After almost wilting and having had all I could handle I enjoyed a fascinating chat with the owner on my way out. He provided a little more history.

Way better than it looks.

The first hot water wells in Midland were dug by the railroad back in about 1906, when the Chicago North Western originally went through the area. The railroad were seeking a source of water for the steam trains an quite unexpectedly the wells they sunk produced hot water – and this became the only source of water available for use in the steam engines. The first geothermal use in Midland was the establishment of the geothermal mineral baths in the old Bastian Hotel in 1939 by John and Violet Stoppel. They re-named the hotel the Stoppel Inn. The well they drilled was down 1,784 feet (544m) producing 33 gallons per minute (2 liters per second) of 116oF (47oC) water that continues today.  An outside tank and cooling tower is used to cool the water for the baths. The hotel is also heated by geothermal heat from the well during the winter months.

The Stroppel Inn and Hot Mineral Baths in Midland, SD.

Onwards and westwards, feeling like I was increasingly in the Wild West as tumble weeds blew across the highway. Follow this link to learn that tumble weeds, that most iconic image of the old west, are in fact an introduced species originally from central Asia – who knew?



Also looking like a western movie set was the town of Cottonwood. The population is listed as 6 – but this seems a little high. I explored around the deserted buildings until I found an old guy mowing his lawn/tumbleweeds. I asked him the history of the place. He told me when he was born in the place some 72 years ago it had a population of 1,700.  It held a massive stockyards and railway loading facilities for cattle. They were ranched across the northern plains and were driven here by cowboys for loading on the train for the journey to the killing plants in Minneapolis and Chicago.   All that is but a memory now and I am guessing it won't be long before there are only the remains of concrete foundations (and perhaps tumbleweeds).

Cottonwood - founded in 1907.  Population was 1,700 now 6.

 

I now headed south to one of the newest units in the National Park system. The Minuteman Missile National Historic Site was established in 1999 to illustrate the history and significance of the Cold War, the arms race, and intercontinental ballistic missile (ICBM) development. The National Historic Site preserves one of the last remaining Minuteman II ICBM systems in the United States.

The US once had over 30,000 nuclear warheads (the actual bomb) and as recently as 1992 over 10,000 were deployed on missiles, bombers, and submarines.  After the recent Obama Administration decision to further cut the nuclear stockpile this number now stands closer to 5,000 with 450 attached to ICBMs.  This national historic site consists of three facilities in three separate locations: a small visitors center, a launch control center, and a missile silo.


The National Park site represent the only remaining intact components of a nuclear missile field that once consisted of 150 Minuteman II missiles, 15 launch control centers, and covered over 13,500 square miles (35,000 km2). 

To construct and deploy all 150 silos and 15 adjacent support structures for South Dakota's Minuteman Missile field cost $56 million in the early 1960s ($9.2 billion in 2005 terms). It was operated by the 44th Strategic Missile Wing, headquartered at Ellsworth Air Force Base in Rapid City, South Dakota. (Note: 450 of the newer Minuteman III missiles are still on active duty in other parts of the Great Plains – but more on that on a subsequent blog posting).  I saw the fairly basic but interesting display at the visitor's center. Then watched a 10 minute film (and discovered later that it is available on the Internet by clicking here).

 
I drove four miles to the launch control facility, known as Delta One (D-01). It occupies approximately six acres just 1.7 miles north of an Interstate (think of the millions of people driving past each year who probably did not know what was lying so close). The launch control facility consists of an above-ground building containing a kitchen, sleeping quarters, offices and life support equipment. Below this building is the actual launch control center, buried 31 feet (9.4m) deep, connected to the building by an elevator. Guided tours are conducted underground but are limited to six people at a time due to the very small underground launch control center ("capsule"). I was not able to join a tour (they were booked for the day). As I discovered, self-guided tours are not possible here; the gate for the fence around D-01 is always locked, just like it was when it was an active launch control facility.

Launch control facility Delta One (D-01).

 

 Look at the last line on the sign!

 
I drove another ten miles to the actual launch facility (or missile silo) known as Delta nine (D-09). Luckily I meet a ranger as soon as I arrived and joined his tour so I was able to find out a lot more about this site. 

 

The missile silo occupies a 1.6 acre site, located even closer to Interstate 90 being just half a mile from the procession of trucks and cars thundering across the South Dakota plains. The complex is dominated by an underground launch tube ("missile silo") built in 1963. Essentially an 80 foot (24 meter) by 12 foot (3.7 meter) hole in the ground although made of reinforced concrete with a steel-plate liner. Today an unarmed missile sits inside. 

The only distinguishing above-ground features are the concrete and steel Launcher Closure (silo lid) and the white security sensor mast. The 110-ton cover of the silo has been rolled partly away and welded to the rails it rides on. In its place, the launch tube was covered with a glass viewing enclosure. Not only did this allow me (and other visitors) to look down on the missile, it means satellites are able to verify that the site is not operational, and hence in compliance with the Strategic Arms Reduction Treaty. The ranger said every two years high ranking officers from the Russian military visit the site to also confirm that it is indeed inactive. The Park Service had a great self-guided tour that is accessed by calling a number with your cell phone and walking around the site, listening to the description of various points over the phone.

A view of the silo from above.

This missile (and the 149 just like it in this sprawling missile complex, which was only one of several massive missile fields located in the central United States) remained on alert for nearly 30 years. At the initiation of an order from the President of the United States the launch cycle time was less than 4 minutes to "missile away". The missile at D-09 was controlled by two Air Force missileers sitting in their underground launch control center.

Photo of the blast door from the launch control facility.

 
The Great Plains were selected as ideal places for nuclear missiles as they were far away from the ocean and Soviet submarine launched missile attacks. Further, by flying directly north up an over the pole the journey from D-09 in South Dakota to Moscow was just 5,170 miles. The missile could make that distance in less than 30 minutes. Each missile carried a payload of nuclear warheads equal to 60% of all the bombs dropped during World War Two. 

 

The site was de-activated following the signing of the Strategic Arms Reduction Treaty (START) by President George Bush (Senior) and Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev in 1991. Under the terms of the treaty, the missiles were removed from their silos, and in 1994 the 44th Missile Wing was officially deactivated. The last site was destroyed in 1996, leaving this single launch facility and launch control center to be preserved as Cold War historic sites. All I can say is "Thank God these were never used". Everything about this place is frightening but I feel it is important that it be protected and interpreted so that we, and future generations, will forever say "Never again".  I now feel even more strongly that any and all efforts to reduce the spread of nuclear weapons on this planet must be taken.

 
It was now just a few miles and I was entering into Badlands National Park. As the website so poetically describes; this large (244,000 acre) national park contains sharply eroded buttes, pinnacles, and spires blended with colorful soil and fossil beds intermixed by the largest protected mixed grass prairie in the United States.

Badlands.

This was my third visit to this national park. The drive through the heart of the park is incredibly spectacular.

My drive through the Badlands this time was made a little more spectacular with the arrival of a thunderstorm. I should mention that this part of the US is (in)famous for spring thunderstorms that often produce tornadoes. Earlier in the afternoon I had stopped to get gas after my hotpools soak in Midland and was told that a little town called Faith nearby had been hit by tornado (click here to see pictures of the tornado in Faith taken that same day by a storm chaser).



All afternoon I was listening to local radio and keeping a close eye on the skies (here is why). Seemingly out of nowhere the sky turned very gray and dark. Then it began to blow – so strongly I thought the van was about to be turned over. It began to rain, and within seconds it was pouring harder than I have ever seen, then it quickly turned to large hail. I pulled over to the side of the road as I could no longer see out the front window. Luckily I pulled over at a spot in the road where I was somewhat protected by clay spire. Leaves, tumbleweeds, and branches about as thick as my wrist began to blow all around the van. The wind began to violently rock the van and I lay across the passenger's seat as I was increasingly worried about the side window being blown in or the vehicle being tipped on its side from the force of the wind. For about three minutes I was pretty scared. Then the hail stopped, the wind eased, and I drove on cautiously for a few miles to seek shelter in the visitor's center. I was told by the rangers there that it wasn't a tornado but rather straight-line winds (also known as thundergusts and hurricanes of the prairie). Apparently these very strong winds that usually produce damage are just like a tornado although they lack the rotational damage pattern.  It is about as close as I ever want to get to a tornado.

Storm getting real close.

Storm too close! 

Still feeling a little rattled I carried on to a part of the country I love – but one that always breaks my heart. I soon entered onto the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation. This reservation for the Oglala Sioux tribe is large (3,469 square miles) making it the 8^th largest reservation in the US, larger than the states of Delaware and Rhode Island combined. The reservation is home to almost 30,000 people. If you harbor romantic ideas about life on an Indian reservation then this place will smash it. I strongly encourage you to read this article (a little dated from 2003) but well worth the time.



This is amongst the very poorest places in the United States (in fact, Shannon County South Dakota which completely falls within the boundary of the reservation is currently the second poorest county in the US – another nearby county on the Rosebud Reservation is the poorest). As the newspaper article I linked reported (although I've updated a some of the statistics from various Bureau of Indian Affairs and other government websites) :  Decrepit trailer homes, whose windows have all been broken, leaving jagged glass jutting out of the frames and curtains flapping in the wind, often turn out to be lived in. The ubiquitous junk cars -- no home here seems to be complete without one sitting in front of it -- sometimes serve as dwellings, too. Packs of scruffy, collarless "rez dogs" run at large. Many houses, most of them trailers or government-provided manufactured houses, has a wheelchair ramp. It's usually a sign that someone has lost a limb to diabetes, which affects half of all adults over 40 here, due to the poor dietary habits that accompany poverty. While the rest of America frets over a recession that has driven unemployment rates from 4 percent up close to 10 percent, Pine Ridge's unemployment rate is estimated to be 83 percent -- and it's been that way for as long as anyone can remember. The closest the rest of the country has ever gotten was 25 percent unemployment, during the Great Depression. With the poverty comes staggering rates of homelessness, alcoholism, disease, drug abuse, murders, suicide, infant mortality, teen-age pregnancy and school dropouts. Average life expectancy here is lower than in Bangladesh -- 48 for men and 52 for women.

 
I have never understood the attitude of many American's to the first peoples of this country. But my point here is not to induce feelings of anger or justification for past and present wrongs, nor am I suggesting feelings of guilt or shame, but rather to encourage a greater understanding of history. To this regard, I recently read and highly recommend On the Rez by Ian Frazier.  I am now reading, thoroughly enjoying, and also highly recommend Neither Wolf nor Dog by Kent Nerburn.

On the rez

I traveled through the heart of the reservation under storm clearing skies with night approaching. Through beautiful spectacular countryside and hillside collections of rundown houses at the reservation towns of Potato Creek, Kyle, Sharps Corner, and Porcupine before arriving at Wounded Knee. This to me is the saddest place I've ever been to in America. While Civil War Battlefields, Pearl Harbor in Hawaii, President John F. Kennedy's grave in Arlington, Ground Zero in New York City, Manzanar National Historic Site (a confinement camp in California's desert for more than 11,000 US citizens of Japanese ancestry during WWII) have all left a lasting impression there is a profound feeling or spirit I feel here, especially on the hilltop mass grave.  Here is a brief account of the 1890 Wounded Knee Massacre and 1973 Wounded Knee Incident. 
   

Memorial to the victims of the Wounded Knee Massacre.

I headed into Pine Ridge – the largest town on the Reservation and found a place for a sandwich.  I filled up with gas, headed north to Oglala then south on a long, twisty, and at times very rough dirt road following the White River to cross the border into Nebraska. I arrived tired, just after 10pm, into Chadron having covered 700 miles today. I found a very nice clean and cheap motel room on the main street and promptly fell asleep.

Summer 2010 Westward Journey Part I: Goodbye Minnesota

I am off to California for the summer. This blog will report my journey from Minneapolis to Pacific Grove and my travels this summer around California and other places.


 

No more office for the summer. The second floor corner

window with the half-drawn blind in my office.

I left home Sunday May 23^rd at 1pm and after a quick stop to drop off my just completed final grading at the office I headed off essentially due west. Firstly through the suburbs of Minneapolis then across the farmland and prairie on US Highway 212 before dropping south just a little to follow Highway 19 to Redwood Falls. On through Marshall which is home to Southwest Minnesota State University then across the border into Lincoln County. I drove through the country seat of Ivanhoe, a fairly unique name for a very typical small Midwestern town of just 608 people.

Spring crops – mostly likely soy beans, near Marshall, Minnesota.


  Having seen the imposing county courthouse building I made reference in the notebook I carry beside me on my road trips to find out more about this town. You may ask why, no special reason other than I went to Lincoln University in New Zealand and I thought an American town named after a novel by a famous Scottish writer must be interesting. The following is edited from the city website at: http://www.co.lincoln.mn.us/History.htm


Lincoln County is located in the southwestern portion of Minnesota, and is bordered by Yellow Medicine County on the north, Lyon County on the east, Pipestone County on the south and South Dakota on the west. The county is rectangular in shape and extends 18 miles east and west and 30 miles north and south. It has a total area of 550 square miles.


Two early explorers, Joseph H. Nicollet and John C. Fremont, headed a group of scientists who crossed what would someday become Lincoln County in 1838.  They were part of a US Government exploration of the region lying between the Mississippi and the Missouri Rivers. This land was the home to the Sisseton and Wahpeton bands of the Sioux Native Americans – but they relinquished the title to a vast tract in Minnesota, Iowa, and South Dakota (including all of the future Lincoln County) to the government under terms of the 1851 treaties of Traverse De Sioux and Mendota. A few people settled near Lake Benton before the summer of 1862.  Pioneer homes were built in scattered parts of the county in the late 1860's and early 1870's but development was slow as by 1875 there were only 413 white settlers in the county.


The intensely cold winters and blizzards, summer heat and drought, insect pests, crop failures, and poverty all combined to create an environment best suited for settlers from harsh climates. Throughout the county Icelandic, Danish, and Norwegian colonies were founded and their descendants still constitute a considerable element in the present population. The Icelandic group centered around a town first settled in 1878 called Ivanhoe – after the popular novel written by Scottish writer Sir Walter Scott.


Creating "Lincoln County"

Lincoln County, named after Abraham Lincoln, was created by the Minnesota Legislature on March 6, 1873 after a fairly complicated and drawn-out process to honor the assassinated president.

A patriotic Minnesota Legislature, desiring to honor Lincoln on his winning the presidency in 1861, sought to give his name to a county established from the northeastern part of the present Renville County. But this act failed to receive the necessary ratification by the people of the county. A second attempt to honor Lincoln came in March of 1866, when the State Legislature sought to change the name of Rock County to "Lincoln" County. This act was ignored by the people of Rock County. A third unsuccessful attempt came on February 12, 1870, on the anniversary of Lincoln's birth. Another effort was made to remove part of eastern Renville County and establish "Lincoln" County, but with different borders from the failed 1861 proposal – but once again, this failed to be ratified by the local people. Finally, in 1873, Lincoln County was successfully created out of the western part of Lyon County, and this time it won wide support from voters. Counties have been named for Abraham Lincoln can be found in fifteen other states.


The Battle for the County Seat

Every county needs a county seat, a city which serves as the seat of government for the county. That fortunate community becomes the focal point of the county and is where the Courthouse is located. In the early days, being the county seat held out the potential for healthy growth and economic development; it is no wonder, then, that the location of the county seat can grow into a major controversy, as was the case in Lincoln County.


The first county seat was at "Marshfield," a community platted in 1873. However, when the towns of Tyler and Lake Benton began to develop due to their location on the railroad line, several buildings were moved from Marshfield to each of those other cities. By the close of the winter of 1880-81, business had almost ceased at the Marshfield county seat. Today only a few abandoned buildings remain of "Marshfield." Seeing the demise of Marshfield, the people of Lake Benton petitioned for the removal of the county seat to their village. At a county-wide election in 1881, a slim majority of just nine votes favored relocating the county seat to Lake Benton. This narrow victory was immediately (but unsuccessfully) contested in the District Court. With the legal challenge having been dismissed in 1883, the county seat was (for a time, at least) firmly established at Lake Benton. 


By 1900 the continued steady growth of the city of Ivanhoe resulted in a petition to the County Commissioners for a special election in 1901, calling for the county seat to be moved to Ivanhoe. The measure was passed, but the validity of the election was challenged. A legal appeal which eventually led up to the State Supreme Court found that the election was void because the County Auditor had failed to follow establish election procedures. On August 5, 1904, yet another election was held on the petition to move the county seat. Out of the 2,274 votes case, the majority of 1,310 were in favor of moving the county seat to Ivanhoe, where it has remained ever since.


Building a Courthouse

Lincoln County began its history without a "home," that is, without a formal courthouse building to house the local government. The first meeting of the County Commissioners was held at the home of M. S. Phillips in Marshfield. Later meeting were held in a store building. The County officials had their offices in various homes and stores in Marshfield until 1881, when they moved their official headquarters to the town of Lake Benton. The railroad company had donated a courthouse site and the citizens of Lake Benton provided a courthouse building, which was later enlarged and improved. Then began the "Battle for the County Seat."


In 1901, after the voters had approved moving the county seat to Ivanhoe, the county accepted a donation of a courthouse site from landowners in that community. The legal challenges to the location of the county seat delayed construction of a courthouse building until 1903, when a contract was let for building a combined jail and sheriff's residence in Ivanhoe, to be financed by an appropriation of $17,000 from accumulated tax levies. However, later that year the Minnesota Supreme Court declared that Lake Benton, not Ivanhoe, was the county seat. Switching gears, the county decided that the old courthouse in Lake Benton should be repaired. 


The election of 1904 finally located the county seat in Ivanhoe and, with that decision made, plans moved forward for final construction of a new courthouse. A contract for construction of the facility in Ivanhoe was let in 1919 at a cost of $143,200. Subsequent contracts were awarded for heating, ventilating, plumbing, electric lighting, interior marble finishing, furniture, and interior oil murals. The three-story courthouse which stands today is a structure of 108 feet x 75 feet, built of Bedford granite. Construction was completed in 1920. Today the courthouse still serves as the primary administrative building for the county which is home to 6,480 people.


 

Lincoln County Courthouse, Ivanhoe, Minnesota.

What a fascinating history for one little town.  This is one of the reasons I love to travel.  It is so easy to blow through towns (or more often, by-pass them all together by traveling on Interstate Freeways) yet, each place has its own story to tell.  

Continuing west for the next ten miles the countryside was filled with wind turbines for as far as I could see. This was part of the massive Buffalo Ridge Wind Farm which is home to over 200 massive turbines generating clean re-newable energy.  Then a road sign encouraging me to "visit again" signaled I was leaving Minnesota.