6-26-2023 Le Mars, IA

If you have been waiting to hear some news, sorry, it doesn’t happen when I am spending time with my brothers and sisters.  We parked Noobee in their drive for 5 days.  Activities involved Back to the 50s Car Show and barbecues in the back yard with nieces, nephews, cousins and friends.  Wonderful.  Oh, and it rained cats and dogs for 2 of the days.

 

Now we are on the road heading west toward home.  There were two options:  taking the two legs of the triangle (south and then west) or the hippopotamus.  Weeks ago, since I had found a campground on the hippopotamus in Le Mars, Iowa that might have a site available, I chose that route.  It is a municipal park and the campground is situated around the edges of a cute little swimming hole called Willow Creek (paddleboarding?!) but, unfortunately, there were no vacant full hook-up sites.  Nothing much is available this close to the 4^th of July so we took a site with fewer amenities.  Later, the manager called me.  She said, “Good news!  One of our long-term people won’t be here this summer and their full hook-up site is for rent!  Do you want it?”  Well, yeah!  “Oh,” she said.  “There’s one drawback.”  Uh oh.  “The site costs $30 instead of the usual $25.”  Bingo!  So, here we are for 3 nights at the municipal park in Le Mars, Iowa!  It is sunshiny and warm!  You may not appreciate this but for us, I think a little black rain cloud has been tethered to Noobee on this whole trip so far.  Until now.

Rob lounges in the warm water
at Willow Creek Campground.
Noobee is just beyond the sand way
back there.

 

6-27-2023

 

We spent a large part of our day plotting the rest of the trip.  When we were done laying it out and printing it, it was time to take a little swim and dig out the paddleboards.  By then, it was raining. 

 

6-28-2023

 

Fred H. Wells starts a dairy in 1913.

Finally, a sunny day for us.  After a bit of shopping to search for walleye and perch (No luck, there.) we discovered historic downtown which includes the Visitor Center and Blue Bunny Ice Cream Parlor.  You see, in 1913, Fred H. Wells, who lived here and owned 15 dairy cows, decided to start a dairy.  He paid $250 to a local farmer for, “one grey horse, one milk wagon, two barn cans, three 20 quart cans, sixty ½- pint jars…”  With luck and elbow grease, Fred was a success and Wells ice cream became a big hit.  In 1935, a contest was held to name Fred’s ice cream.  George Vanden Brink, inspired by his kid’s fascination with the blue Easter bunnies in the store windows, suggested Blue Bunny.  He won $25.  Now, Blue Bunny produces more ice cream than any other single location on planet earth, 150 million gallons per year, enough to fill 225 Olympic-size swimming pools.  In 1994, the Iowa State Legislature designated Le Mars, “The Ice Cream Capital of the World.”  Naturally, Rob and I were obligated to visit the Visitor Center and Blue Bunny Ice Cream Parlor to share the delicious wealth, as it were.  We now understand why there are painted ice cream cones on many corners throughout the city.

 

Le Mars, IA, Ice Cream Capital
of the World!

Just outside the 
Blue Bunny Ice Cream Parlor

The gorgeous rich interior of
the Blue Bunny Ice Cream Parlor

I

Another ice cream cone.

Ice cream cones on every corner

It was hot and humid and back at camp, it was time to break out the paddleboards, beach chairs and a beer or two for a nice, lazy afternoon by the water.  The sun cooperated!

Cooling down

Hi Rob!

Docking the "boat," as Rob calls it.

 

Today (6-29), after one more quick paddle, we packed up and are now driving through Nebraska.  It is absolutely beautiful:  green, leafy, healthy fields of happy crops.  The corn is not “knee-high by the 4^th of July.”  Here in Nebraska, it is “as high as an elephant’s eye.”  A good year for America’s breadbasket.  Thanks, Nebraska!  We love it.  (Well, except for the  UN Cornhuskers.  They’re the enemy!  Go Bucky!)  Thunderstorms and possible hail for the next two days.  Sigh.

6-20-2023 Detroit Lakes, MN

I don’t have a whole lot of news this time around.  We have been to Detroit Lakes in the past and we loved it so much that we came back for more!  (If you want to read a little about Detroit Lakes, look into the 2019 archived blogs.)  There is a drive all the way around the two lakes. Little Detroit Lake and Big Detroit Lake.  The shores are heavily populated with saloons, motels, condos and multi-million dollar homes.  The locals tell us that some rich guy just bought a “second home” on the lake for $11M.  That’s more than Rob and I have combined!

 

Country Campground, one of our faves, owned by friends Todd and Karen, is completely booked for the season so we were in a bit of a bind.  Then I learned of the American Legion Campground and also learned that you don’t have to be a member to camp there.  It is just steps from the water and, like almost all other “brotherhoods” like this, they are completely self-contained.  There’s a bar, restaurant (that serves breakfast every day), all the other facilities and it is the lowest price we have paid for a site on this trip, $55/night.  RV’ing is not the “bargain” it used to be for travel adventures.  The highest we have paid was $130/night in Billings (bring your own hotel room and restaurant).

 

Bloody Mary at the Lakeside Tavern

And more of the same!

Big Detroit Lake

Rob and the gigantic bluegill he
didn't actually catch.  This was
a photo-op.

So anyway, we have had a nice lazy time sitting on the outdoor decks of a few saloons and restaurants in the sunshine and cool breeze. Well, it’s actually more than a breeze:  wind speed of 20 mph and white caps on the lake told this old bag there would be no paddleboarding for her.  Other than the skeeters and a small structural problem with Noobee (which we have already worked out and are awaiting the arrival of a shipment of parts), all has been well.  We are traveling the road to George and Ray’s house (my brother and sister-in-law) and we’ll park there for a long weekend of fun at the Back to the 50s Car Show.  Lots of Kraus family time for us.  Bye for now!  I shall return!

The bug guts get washed off and
Noobee and the Jeep get a bath.

6-17-2023 Bismarck, ND

In 1872, a little settlement called Missouri Crossing was established on the Missouri River to honor Lewis and Clark who crossed the river here in 1804.  Later, the little town got a name change to Edwinton, named after Edwin Johnson who was a prominent railroad engineer and a big proponent of a transcontinental railroad.  The settlers were struggling to establish successful railroad shipping lanes because funding was an issue.  Less than a year later, they changed the name to Bismarck.  Why?  Well, it was to honor current “Iron Chancellor” Prince Baron Otto Eduard Leopold Von Bismarck-Shoenhausen who established the German Empire and became its first chancellor.  (He is famously quoted as saying, “Just call me Otto.”)  The townsfolk sent the news and maps of Bismarck to Europe to impress the foreigners in the hope that it would attract German immigrants as well as Otto’s donation to the railroad endeavor.  Otto was flattered and sent a really nice note back saying, “Danke schoen,” but no deutschmarks were enclosed.  Nevertheless, the town retained the name Bismarck and slowly but surely the railroads were fully developed and transportation and shipping became their stock in trade. 

 

Discovery of gold in the Black Hills accelerated growth and thousands of miners and prospectors flocked to the area.  And that’s another story.  The Dakotas were established as Indian Territory by the US government.  That is, until gold was found.  Then, all bets were off and the government reneged on the deal and took the land back.  The Indians were pissed about that and to some degree, they still are.  (It didn’t help matters when, in 1927, Gutzon Borglum carved the likeness of four white guys into their sacred mountains.  But I digress.) 

 

This is a craft in which the Indians traveled, 
made of buffalo hide and willow.

Pirogue catamaran as those used
by Meriwether and William.

The Missouri River was a major shipping and trading lane for furs, supplies and travelers.  The Indians traveled the river in round craft made of buffalo hides and willows, European immigrants traveled by canoe and pirogues (craft carved and hollowed from a single tree trunk).  Lewis and Clark used pirogues and keelboats.  The first steamboat arrived in 1831.  With the discovery of gold, the railroads really took off.  Otto’s checkbook was no longer necessary, anyhow.  In 1883, Bismarck was named the capital of the Dakota Territory and then the capital of the US state of North Dakota in 1889.

 

Riverboat Lewis and Clark

In 1945, the Oahe Dam was built to the south on the Missouri and in 1947, the Garrison Dam was built to the north.  These dams changed the face of the river completely from an artery of commerce to lakes for recreation and leisure.  That’s where we come in.  It finally stopped raining on our third day in Bismarck and Rob found a riverboat ride for us.  It took us up and down the river as far as it could travel before sandbars made it too shallow to continue.  Captain Damon was very busy navigating the riverboat with a 5 foot draft through water 6 feet deep.  Even still, his depth of experience and skill allowed him a few minutes to horse around with us.  It was a glorious day on the river in some greatly appreciated sunshine, at last.

Rob having fun on the riverboat.

Sunshine at last!

Captain Damon and Lindy, the boat driver

Captain Damon

 The Huckleberry House sits on the hill overlooking the riverboat dock and what to our wondering eyes should appear on the menu?  Walleye!  Our fourth delightful walleye dinner, this one on the outdoor deck in the sunshine.  God thinks I’ve been a good girl, apparently.

Huckleberry House

 

Now, we continue east to Detroit Lakes, MN where we hope to get in some paddleboarding and maybe a few more local brews on the outdoor deck of a saloon somewhere. 

 

Hydrofoil paddleboard.  
Do I need one of these or what?!

6-14-2023 Spearfish, SD

Rob, The Captain and Lindy

Spearfish, SD is not too far from Somerset where our friends Gary and Connie live.  We met them on the pickleball courts in Pahrump in years past and we bonded immediately.  This had as much to do with what great people they are as the fact that they lived in Neenah, WI for 20 years before relocating to SD.  You see, Gary was a pilot for Air Wisconsin before he retired and now he is fondly referred to as, “Captain.”  Connie is under the weather this time we are passing through and could not join us but Gary and # 1 son Nathan played pickleball with us and the next evening, Captain joined us for dinner at Steerfish Restaurant where we all enjoyed a big slab of walleye!  Great fun!

Nathan, Gary and Rob

 

Spearfish sprang up, like other cities in the Dakotas, when it was declared, “There’s gold in them thar hills!”  It was a mining and farming community and now relies heavily on tourism as well.  The campground and visitor center folks advised that, for an interesting activity, we should take a drive through Spearfish Canyon to see the rock formations, wildlife and beautiful waterfalls.  This is how we spent day # 2.  The canyon was carved out by the river over the millennia and shear rock faces framed our path almost the entire distance. 

Split Rock

Split Rock is the first attraction.  It is really more of a mountain than a rock.  The laborers who built the Spearfish Line of the Grand Island and Wyoming Central Railroad through the canyon did the splitting.  The railroad began service in 1893, hauling mining materials, supplies and ore back and forth.  A flood in 1933 destroyed the rail lines beyond repair and subsequently, a road was created to do the job. 

 

Bridal Veil Falls, created by snowmelt as all the falls are, cascades 60 feet down to continue downstream.  We were lucky enough to see a heavy flow since it dwindles down to a small trickle over the summer months and into the fall.  The same is true of Roughlock Falls.  Before the railroad, supplies were hauled by horses and wagons.  The trail was really steep and in order to keep the wagons from taking off and screaming down the grades, they used a method called, “roughlock,” locking the wheels with chains and using cables to slow down the descent.  Thus the name of the falls came to be.

Rob at Roughlock Falls

Bridal Veil Falls

 

George Hearst, prospector and developer
of Homestake Mining Co. in
Spearfish, SD

A fellow named George Hearst, born in a log cabin in MO in 1820, had been interested in mining since he was a young boy.  In his 30s, when he learned of gold being discovered in the Dakotas, he headed west and purchased 4 ½ acres of land for $70,000 and created the Homestake Mining Company.  With the modest successes of the mining operation over time, he increased the size of the mine to 100,000 acres.  George was so obsessed with the business of mining and prospecting that he moved further west, to central CA, the mother lode of silver on the Comstock (NV), copper in MT and silver in Park City, UT.  He hit pay dirt in UT with silver to the tune of $17M.  Then, George went back to MO to tend to his mom’s health.  While there, he fell in love with the girl next door, married her and moved back west to the San Francisco area.  Meanwhile, he won a newspaper enterprise as a spoil of a poker game.  Then, in 1863, William Randolph Hearst was born.  And now, my friends, you know the rest of the story.

 

It’s still raining.  It rained and stormed all night.  This is starting to remind us of Oregon.

6-11-2023 Billings, MT

I’m not sure what’s wrong with the people in Montana.  It’s freezing outside.  Raining and freezing, like in the 60s!  And they are wandering around in tiny little skimpy running shorts, spaghetti strap tiny undershirts and flip-flops.  What is WRONG with these people?!  My toes are blue!  Oh!  And they are all frolicking and swimming in the pool.  As for me, Thank God I have a down jacket with me.

 

Today was an administrative day.  By now, we all know this one.  Vacuuming, laundry, changing the sheets, paying bills, cleaning and lubing the towbar, washing bug guts off and so on.  Even people on vacation have to do the laundry.  Still, we found a great restaurant this evening which began with Kyle mixing an excellent ice cold martini at the bar at the Montana Club.  Then, Rob had a big Montana ribeye steak and Lindy had salmon, halibut and shrimp.  We deserved it after working all day and freezing our asses off.  Tomorrow is play day.

 

Preston Boyd Moss (PB) was born in Paris, MO in 1863.  He was a high-energy man, an innovator, a dreamer and entrepreneur extraordinaire.  He was born into a family of some wealth as was his wife, Martha (Mattie).  PB wanted to own a bank.  (Don’t we all?)  He learned of 2 that were for sale in Billings, MT, and in 1922, the family moved to Billings.  PB was more than a finance guy, though.  He organized the first dial telephone company, founded a newspaper that today is called the Billings Gazette, created a central heating plant and a utilities company, built and ran a hotel, partnered with his neighbor I.D. O’Donnell to develop irrigation systems for the farm land and create a sugar factory (from beets), built a toothpaste factory and a meat packing plant.  In his spare time, he ran for Congress in 1922 but he didn’t win.  He is known as “The Man Who Built Billings.”

 

The Moss Mansion decades ago

The Mansion and Museum today

The family lived in rentals for a short time and then decided to build a “home.”  And a home it is, indeed, all 14,000 sq. ft. of it.  Whereas the average cost to build a home in 1900 was roughly $5,000, the final bill for the Moss Mansion rang in at $105,000.  The construction project was completed in 1903 and Mattie busied herself with the interior décor and furnishings that she acquired from around the world.  That’s when she wasn’t raising six kids.  The family lived in the mansion all their lives until the last surviving daughter died in 1984.  Being in a state of ill-repair by that time, it was sold to the city of Billings for $450,000 and restored, a never-ending work of art in progress.  Everything in the mansion/museum is the original private belongings and furniture of the Moss family, right down to the Persian rugs and silk wall paper.  The enterprising PB also had a state-of-the-art (at the time) intercom system and dial telephone installed, both still there.  They lived the dream.

Solarium and tea room

PB's office

Humble dining room and bar

 

I. D. O'Donnell was PB's neighbor
and lived in this crappy little house

There she blows!  Lewis and Clark walked
right by here.

Hiking up the steps to see Clark's
autograph

Lewis and Clark and the crew, continuing on the expedition westward, paddled the canoes along the Yellowstone River right through this area.  They happened upon what is now a landmark national monument named, “Pompeys Pillar.”  (Pronounced like, “poppy,” only with an, “m.”)  Clark originally named it Pompy’s Tower, Pomp being the nickname he had given to Sacajawea’s baby, Jean Baptiste.  An editor of Lewis and Clark’s journals changed the name to Pompeys Pillar.  It is a massive rock that was left behind when the wind and water blew the dirt and sand away over millions of years.  Or, if you believe the Indians, one of the great spirits rolled it across the river, given that there are lots of these on one side of the river and just Pompeys Pillar on the other.  Could be.  The great spirits don’t have much else to do.  Clark was so taken with the rock that he climbed halfway up and chiseled his name and the date into one flat surface, “W. Clark July 25, 1806,” a 217 year old artifact.  This piece of history is now protected from today’s vandals by a thick Plexiglas shield. 

 

Clark's signature is on the right
with the brown frame behind Plexiglas

"W. Clark July 25, 1806"

Several hundred steps up.  We made it!

Today, the back roads took us to Spearfish, SD where we hope to get in some pickleball with friends Gary and Connie.  But first, a repairman will come to fix a chip in Noobee’s windshield.  It’s always somethin,’ Jane.

6-8-2023 Three Forks, MT

 

“Into each life some rain must fall.”  Today, Rob’s and my lives must make it “some rain times 2” because it’s raining endlessly.  Sooner or later on these trips, we are bound to encounter weather.  Since the sky was black, I casually asked a clerk, “Do you get tornadoes, here?”  She said, “No.”  All good.

 

We ran between the clouds and managed to gather up a few stories, nevertheless.  First, why is it named “Three Forks?”  Imagine what a fork looks like:  a handle and 3 tines.  The handle is the Missouri River, the three tines are the Jefferson River, Madison River and Gallatin River.  Since we are east of the continental divide, all the rivers are flowing west to east, so the three tines converge here at Three Forks and form the Missouri River which continues east and dumps into the Mississippi River at St. Louis, MO.  Three Forks, then, grew up at the confluence of the three smaller rivers that came together to create the mighty Missouri.  Chalk up another headwaters for us.

Missouri to Rob's left, the Jefferson
behind Rob and to the far right,
the Madison.  The Gallatin hooks up
a little farther north.

Lindy in the headwaters of the Missouri
River.  A molecule of water that swirled
around my feet will wind up in New 
Orleans and ultimately dump
into the Gulf of Mexico!  

 

The community of Three Forks was originally formed by the fur traders.  The Indians weren’t happy about all these white guys showing up and raiding their natural resources.  They soon discovered, though, that they could trade for stuff they wanted, like guns.  So basically, Three Forks became a trading post. 

 

Thomas Jefferson engaged Lewis and Clark to find a waterway across the country to the Pacific Ocean.  Three Forks is where the effort ended.  No more continuing waterways.  They arrived here and said, “Oh great.  Now what?”  (Well, words to that effect.)  They faced travel with horses and by foot over the looming snowcapped mountain ranges.  They made it.  On the west side of the mountains, they ran into the Clearwater, Snake and Columbia Rivers and continued westward.  How they got past our country’s border into Spanish territory is not clear to me.  Did they need a passport?

 

“Colter’s Run” happened nearby and has been the subject of many a novel and Hollywood movie.  The Blackfeet Indians were a deadly tribe and didn’t like the white guys at all.  In 1809, they captured John Colter who was trapping on the Jefferson River.  They killed his partner, John Potts, but for a little hunting fun, they decided to let Colter go.  First, they stripped him naked, though, and forced him to run east through the cactus brush.  He hid in the river and the Indians were dumbfounded.  He didn’t get caught and finally reappeared at a fur trading post 200 miles away, exhausted and half-starved.

 

Sacajawea, her husband and pup accompanied Lewis and Clark.  She was a great guide, hunter, liaison and interpreter.  In 1882, a boarding house, Madison House, was built about 5 miles out of town to house train workers and travelers.  In 1910, it was moved on rolling logs to its current location in Three Forks and architect Fred Wilson added onto the core building creating the Sacajawea Hotel.  A grand structure of delicious dark, polished wood and beautiful, rich upholstery, it is still open today to guests who wish to stay in luxury hotel rooms or dine in the restaurant or downstairs bar.  However, be ready for ghosts.  The young lady at the front desk tells of a prostitute who committed sideways on the third floor and still roams the halls.  She herself has seen with her very own eyes a guy who walked right through a wall!  So c’mon out and stay!  (Bring money.)

Sacajawea Hotel

The beautiful parlor

 

Our intentions to pay Bozeman a visit were dashed by the stormy weather.  The Jeepster gets a little squirrely on wet roads.  Driving 30 miles each way with the nutcases on the road for a cold brew, fish and chips was a bridge to far.  We hunkered down to wait out this persistent weather with a cocktail, cozy and warm by the fire.

 

Tomorrow, we continue heading east to Billings, MT.  At last, Big Sky country is sunny, green and blue.  Lovely. 

I love Montana

Spotted in the Three Forks Museum