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Mark Twain State Park MO
8/29/04
This was a low milage, high enjoyment day. I covered 345 miles, which is not much on a 6 day trip. But I'm glad I am where I am and I'm glad I went where I did. I'm realizing now that I'm building this up WAY too much. Nothing really happened. I'm just in a good mood because, for once, I got to set up a tent in dry weather. I even had help! But I'm getting ahead here.
I got a very late start today because it took me forever to do all my anal photoshopping to all the pictures on the last entry. As I pulled out of the campsite, I did some quick math and realized that I"d be hitting Saint Louis at rush hour on Friday of Memorial Day weekend. I also realized that I was about to repeat a dreary drive that I've done far too many times in the last couple of years, Indianapolis, Terra Haute, Saint Louis.
I looked at the map and saw a small red line that goes straight through from Indianapolis, across Illinois, across Missouri and Kansas, all the way to Denver. All local, all rural, no interstate. And it looked on the State maps as though this red line, Route 36 was very straight and went through a lot of nothing. That means you can go and go fast, except to slow down for the occasional tractor. The traditional route from Indianapolis to Denver dips south slightly to SAint Louis, across to Kansas City and then eases back up for Denver, then you head dramatically south through Denver, Utah, Nevada, Vegas, Los Angeles. Route 36 cuts out SAint Louis and Kansas City. To me, anything that cuts two major citites out of my route is a good idea.
I'm realizing as I write this that this trip is so radically different from any other crossing I've done. Not just because of the camping but because the camping changes everything else. I usually plot my route by trying to land in population centers at the end of every night, so I have somewhere to eat, sleep and buy shit. But on this trip, I'm trying to end every day in the middle of nowhere and trying to avoid buying any prepared food.
All this digretion notwithstanding, I left the campsite this afternoon and was kind of amazed at how quickly I found myself driving into Indianapolis. I thought I was in a very remote wild place as Loona and I walked for over an hour through wilder and thicker woods that morning, but it took less than twenty minutes to drive right into the heart of the city.
The first challenge of the day was finding this "Route 36". I had to get off the highway and drive straight through Indi, through some very poor neighborhoods and onto Route 36, which started as a small side street that got wider and wider until it took me out of town and it became a suburban strip mall road for many miles, and then it went through farm lands and became a country route, out further and further into rural Indiana. IT was a beautiful sunny day, a nice break from all the rain. As route 36 took me through a small town, I rolled down the window for the first time and was stunned to hear a very loud hissing sound. I thought it was my engine steaming over for a second, then I thought it was a tire losing air. I slowed down but the sound just got louder. IT was crazily loud and it pulsed like thousands of people going "Yaaaayaaaayaaaa!" in tiny rhaspy voices. Then it faded and I realized that it was fading as I drove out of a thickly wooded area into an open field. Then when the trees came back the sound came back. I guessed then that I was hearing Zachadas. I'm sure I'm not spelling that right. Is it Xachadias? I don't know. I'd never heard them before but I knew that, somewhere out in the country, at a certqain time of year, they make a deafening noise.
A few miles later, we pulled over to pee and walk in some tiny town. We walked across a wooden covered bridge into a wooded area where the noise of the zachadias was amazingly loud. I looked up at a tree and saw thousands of them jumping from leaf to leaf. singing and having sex.
We continued and drove across long expanding farm fields, listening to Christian radio stations. This led us straight into Decatur Illinois which seems to be a very depressed, small city. After Decatur, the 36 becomes a larger highway and it cuts through the most beautiful part of Illinois I've ever seen. It's not flat farms, which after a while can be really hard to look at. But it's not mountains. It's all green and slopes just so gently with handsome, giant trees every so often. There are very few exits off this road and very little of the Macdonalds/KFC/Walmart mess that litters most of the country.
We pulled off, for a rest in a tiny town called Winchester. I got gas and some water and put Loona on a leash for a walk. I usually try to find some remote spot and let Loona run around but I decided this time to walk her right through town. It turns out there is a fair going on in the town square.
Some carnys brought some cheap rides and games and as Loona and I walked along we saw parents converge from all sides of the town, leading their little kids by their tiny hands toward the rickety rides. Everyone who saw Loona laughed at her. She is a funny looking dog but also she's wearing a tshirt. I also looked clearly from out of town so I think people actually thought Loona was part of the fair somehow. I hung around the town square taking pictures for a while.
Then I went back to the car, fed Loona and took off. A few seconds later, I was pulled over! The Winchester PD officer told me that I was doing 40 in a 35 zone. Wow. they don't screw around in Winchester. He spent about twenty minutes in his cruiser checking my licence, then came back and gave me a warning. He said "My last day here is June 10th, so I really don't give a shit." And walked off. Funny how, when you're out of town, people want to tell you little things about themselves.
We got back on the 36 which took us into Missouri, right at Hannibal, which is where Mark Twain is from, right on the Missisipi river. Here is an example of how dumb I am. I love Mark Twain. His books are so incredible. When I read them, I just soak it up. Yet I always thought that they took place in the south. I always think of the Missisippi river as being way down there in the Bayou and all that. So when I saw a sign saying "Mark Twain birthplace" I thought "Oh, I guess he was born here but then moved down south, where he wrote Huck Finn and all that. It was at that moment that I crossed the mighty Missisippi and took in, all at once, the Missouri Countryside. I knew immediately that this is where Mark Twain found Huck and Tom Sawyer. I hate to just speak in platitudes but it is so goddamn beautiful in this part of Missouri. I can't even describe it. The land has such a refined conttour and the greens and browns are totally original. It feels totally virgin, unruined.
As I passed through Hannibal, it started getting dark fast. I needed a campsite and started to look. I passed a place called "Injun Joe Campsite" which was sold out. So were the next two. I realized all at once that it's Memorial Day weekend so everything is probably full. I kept driving till I got to "Mark Twain Lake" which is a National park. I found the enterance to a State run campsite which said 'Full" but I pulled in anyway. At the guard gate, I asked an old man and old woman who worked there if there were any open campsites anywhere. "Nope" they said "Everything is sold out for the weekend." I could have driven away but for some reason I stayed and just kept asking. "really? NOthing?" "Nope. NOthing." ".... really? No place at all to camp?" "Nope. All sold out." I kept asking in different ways. "So there's no place I can camp?" "No, sorry." "I just have my tent and my car. Isn't there anything?" THey stopped saying no and moved on to just shaking their heads. I didn't drive away. I just sat there. I stopped askiing. We all just sat there. Then the guys says "The only thing we have is this one tent site. There's a tent on it but it's broken down and no one has been there for two days. BUt I don't think they declared it open yet." Then the lady gets on a radio and asks another Ranger if they made a decsion on that tent yet. The ranger on the radio told her that they were clearing that tent off and opening the site. "I guess you can go ahead and take that one then. Number 41." They let me have the site! Just sitting there and not leaving actually worked!
I got to my site and found it was right next to a bunch of young people camping together, listening to Elton John and drinking beer. As I set up my camp, one of them came over and offered to help. He gave me one of their lanterns and helped me pitch my tent. Then I went over to their camp and drank a beer..
I'm just realizing now that this is all coming out as dreck because I'm too sleepy. I'm just reciting fact after fact now of what happened. Who would read this? Sorry. Gotta sleep. I"ll post this tomorrow when I get back online. No cellphones here.
Thanks for reading.
LCK