On the road again...

After a couple days with my sister, we headed out early Monday morning. My heart ached as I hugged her farewell. My nomadic adventure across the United States also reminds me of the uncertainty of the next visit.

Indiana. Illinois. Missouri. Iowa.

As we bade Indiana farewell, we moved into the lush cornfields of Illinois. The humid, warm climate that I struggle with creates beautiful crops. Even the occasional wheat field didn't seem to mind. Though I was shocked to see the golden crops with bent heads ready for harvest in Missouri. However, as I drove north the crops grew young again. Though the brilliant orange sunset urged me on to my destination, it made me giddy, as it reminded me I nearing "home". The country is becoming more familiar and soon the prairies of home will great me.

In the meantime, as we crossed into St. Louis we remembered that Lewis and Clark started their journey there together. Then as I headed a few miles south to explore the final home of Daniel Boone, I discovered we were on the Lewis and Clark trail. As we wound through the back roads of Missouri we followed their path. The thick vegetation was spotted with color of wildflowers everywhere. It was my favorite drive of the day.

The Daniel Boone home was a spectacular tribute to the hard work of the homesteaders. The hand-hewn black walnut and oak beams that supported four stories made me gaze in awe that it only took 7 years to build. It was also a fortress cleverly built to endure any attacks from the Native Americans, wild animals, and soldiers. It even survived the Civil War. A war that I realize now I do not truly understand from a local perspective. Daniel was a Quaker, but his son that lived in this home was a Confederate. As I listened to the murmured history and family tree of the Boones' I realized for the first time how complicated this era of history truly is. I also struggled to understand the various portraits displayed throughout the house. When I inquired, I was given the family name of the people. Very foreign to me, but evidently pivotal in the settlement of this country...and familiar to everyone else as the conversation quickly left me behind.

In the bedroom where Daniel passed away, a portrait hangs over the bed. The only portrait he ever posed for. He was displeased with the results, but his son claimed it was an excellent representation though a bit lean in the cheeks.

The butter churn Daniel had made for Rebecca sat in the kitchen. Despite the hardships of the times, they were very much in love. When his beloved wife passed away, he carried his request to be buried next to her every day for seven years. Then the love story takes a turn, as Kentucky came to claim the remains of their forefather and his beloved...but they took the wrong remains because when they started digging Daniel's grave they stumbled upon another resting soul, so they ended up burying Daniel at Rebecca's feet, so many years ago, the remains that Kentucky exhumed were tested and the results showed a man at least 6 feet tall (Daniel as only 5'8") and of African American descent revealed their error. Thus Daniel now rests alone in Missouri in a private cemetery and Rebecca in Kentucky. His final wish unfulfilled by politics.

As the day drew nigh, Nikela noticed the familiar Lewis and Clark historical markers once again. We had stayed on the trail most of the day as we followed the Missouri River. It will diverge today in Sioux Falls, South Dakota, but we will cross the river again in Pierre, SD. Eventually, their journey on the Yellowstone will cross our path again in Montana where we met Clark's great-grandson in the reenactment expedition for the bicentennial of that famous excursion West.

Today I am grateful that I am not travelling by boat or wagon, but in complete comfort of soft seats and climate controls. I will try not to complain...today.