ITW Tracks of the StoneBear ITW= Into The West. A Journey of crossing the continent: Crossing the Continent Only the strong survived

ITW final post October 2010

ITW = Into The West Journey

Late October Mtn roads closed for snow

The cowards never started.

The weak died along the way.

Only the strong survived.

That is the synopsis I've heard that sticks... that holds true.

Crossing the continent was not the primary objective of this journey; it turned out that was what happened.

I stand in awe of the pioneers that supplied up - loaded up... "don't worry about the mules Son, just load the wagon"... loaded up everything/ possessions they had,... and left St Louis heading west in a wagon train. My God I love those people; they are my kinda folks!

Public school allowed the basics of Lewis and Clark and the Corps of Discovery, and little of the westward pioneers. Upon this journey, coming to the realization of what it actually took to cross this North American continent... these are my heroes. Traveling across in a modern vehicle, with supply depots, with gas stations for fuel, with modern bridges across rivers.... I do not see how the pioneers did it! These were some rugged hearts in people with a ton of courage and guts.

Women especially. It takes a certain kinda cat to sign on to a plan to go into the unknown and make due with all the hardships. Women did this while raising kids and holding everything together on the frontier.

I waded in and fished many rivers and streams and know the strength of the current. Think of your family and children in a wagon foraging these rivers, a major undertaking; I don't see how they did it.

Going up the river to Independence / St Charles, MO... The final post going on into the west... last chance for supplies, then heading west, going into the unknown.
An axe was the primary tool. it would be needed to cut lodge-pole timber for a homestead in the promised land... when we got there. A knife, personal weapon to thwart threats if need be or skin hides. A gun, a long rifle to hunt for meat,... or preferred for protection if need be.

Tracks on the prairie meant; meat,... or war.

Oxen were the team of draft animals to make this journey. Horses were good for short 15 to 20 mile day rides, but wouldn't hold up pulling a wagon on a long haul.

The trail, mostly virgin prairie at first, then mountains-- then the Rockies-- was littered with the abandon wagons with skeletons of horses where they frothed at the mouth and dropped in place.
If you were lucky, another sympathetic wagon would take you in,... or take the children... usually to the next town / outpost. Then , you were on your own to survive.

You never drink twice from the same stream.

******

ITW 98

ITW = Into The West Journey

You never drink twice from the same stream.

Monday August 2, 2010

Biggs, Oregon / Maryhill, Washington

It's been months on this journey. A lifetime by some measurements.

This started back in Birmingham / Leeds, Alabama back in the Spring. The dimension of time has expanded and contracted at times.... depending on the day and place. Hiking into the canyon near Thermopolis Wyoming and seeing hundreds of Petroglyphs -- Ancestral Native art etched into the rock face walls-- .... Time went back 11,000 years.

At the start the goal was to head West to Arizona, then turn north up through the Rockies ....make it to Montana... to see the Northwest Crown of the Continent. ... Glacier nat park.

This was a Journey; an expedition. Most days were a see saw / wandering route and not a beeline. The purpose was to see it.

... to breath it.

... to seek it.

.... to walk it and hike it.

to leave the rat race to the rats.

.... to revel in it. ....and know that you did it.

Just because you Wander doesn't mean you're Lost.

After months of traveling the back roads of the west, criss-crossing the same exact routes and trails the pioneers used.

The Oregon Trail.

The Santa Fe Trail.

The California Trail.

The Morman Trail.

The Bozeman Trail.

... there's a greater respect for the Pioneer families; Those were some hearty folk. I worry about the country sometimes, .... then think of the stock we come from; we'll endure the hard parts. Think Covered Wagon and team of Oxen.

I've dodged tornadoes in Oklahoma. Camped on the high arid plains of the Southpark of Colorado. .... Hiked into the the Abyss of time at Mesa Verde, Chimney Rock... of the Choco culture. Walked across Lava fields in Idaho and went down into the ice caves the Shoshone used.

Hiked down into the canyon and talked w/ the Navajos... --men of the same blood of Manuelito-- at Canyon de Chelly

Camped in the deserts of New Mexico and Utah.

Later traveling North in Utah and Wyoming Trout fished in snow-pack rivers and Glacier Lakes.

Been in thermal Hot springs in Arkansas, Wyoming, and Montana.

Gone through Hell's Canyon on the Snake River.

Crossed the plains where the great herds of millions of Bison used to roam. ... through numerous Native American Indian lands / hunting grounds. ...and felt the wind on my face sweeping across the vastness of those plains.

I've felt the chill of hiking through snow-pack,... up to 10,000 ' elev.... feeling the crispness of the thin air while dancing around the sacred circle at Medicine Wheel Wyoming. I've seen Deer, Elk, Antelope, Moose, pronghorns, fox, Bison,... many birds,Bald and Golden Eagles- ... Osprey, many Hawks... Listened to Coyotes and Wolves howl in the night.... and a glimpse of a Grizzly Bear.

Stood at the headwaters of the Missouri river, where Lewis and Clark's Corps of Discovery camped.

Awakened to 34* mornings in August. Awakened to 24* mornings in July up high in the Big Horn Mountains. ... and actually seen Bighorn Sheep.

After months.... on the expedition foraging ahead, not knowing what is going to be around the next river bend, or over the next mountain pass. .... not knowing where you'd lay your head that day.... that night until 6 or 7pm.

After a time... you lose any sense of "Home". At times you've lost the memory of just exactly what IS home. At times,... there is No Direction Home.

And when you begin driving down that amazing Columbia River. ... & the rolling high plains foothills turn into the brown Basalt stair-steps of an eroded canyon river gorge....

You've been wind burned since leaving Arkansas; the skin on your face and neck and arms are weathered. and burned bronze. You see the strength of that wind blowing 40+ up the Columbia pushing modern day wind farm turbines.

And you get to Biggs Oregon, Maryhill Washington on the Columbia .... and you stop .... and at that moment, .... you can see Mount Hood ahead,... & sniff the air. You smell the salt in the air.

You wade into the river and you can taste the salt in the brackish water of the Columbia River...

You sense you're close; you can feel it. ..... it may be a days ride/ maybe 2 days ride. Maybe 50 miles from the Pacific ocean. ... and you come to that moment where you know ; ...by god,... we've made it. We did it !

We have crossed the North American Continent and lived to tell it. Closing w/ the Pacific.

.... The Columbia moving toward the ocean.

I was excited. Exhausted after months of Journey.

Lord, imagine the excitement of Lewis & Clark after crossing the continent,... knowing they were closing w/ the

Pacific.

I imagine they had a big bonfire at what would become Biggs, Oregon / Maryhill, Washington... and feasted that night on a celebration supper of Elk and Salmon.