Saturday the 26th was to be a short
drive, but I still got an
early
start. I had to get around Kansas
City (and Kansas City, there's one
in
Kansas, too) before the Saturday
working corporate drones clogged
the
freeways. The day's route would
take me from Missouri to Kansas
(briefly),
back to Missouri to Iowa and
finally into Nebraska outside of
Omaha. I was
still on the trail of Lewis and
Clark following the Missouri River
and
heading for a meeting with Mini
owner Frank Grover.
I drove from St. Louis to the
Kansas City area in less than one
day. The
Corp of Discovery left the St.
Louis area on May 14, 1804. They
didn't arrive
in what is now the Kansas City area
until about June 25th. After
figuring
that out, I complained a little
less about one day driving EG in
the heat. It
could have been worse. I could have
been dragging the Discovery or one
of the
pirogues up the Missouri for 6
weeks. The pirogues were very big
canoes, but
they were small next to the big
keelboat, Discovery. Fifty-five
feet long,
8-foot beam, drawing 4 feet of
water, a 32 foot mast that could be
lowered,
space for 22 rowers, a raised rear
deck, three mounted guns, and space
to
store thousands of pounds of
supplies. Imagine rowing or
dragging that thing
against the Missouri's
current.
Also, I was in much better
shape than most of the Corp of
Discovery. The
expedition made sure it took along
plenty of brandy, but they drank
river
water which at this point "contains
half a Comn Wine Glass of ooze or
mud to
every pint." Understandably, many
of the men were suffering from
dysentery.
On top of that about two-thirds of
them were suffering from boils
and
ulcer-like sores. The main problem
was diet. There were little fruit
or
vegetables eaten and the jerky they
had was probably bacteria
contaminated.
Of course all the mosquito, tick
and fly bites, many infected,
didn't help.
Mosquitoes showed up as complaints
in the journals again and again.
OK. I can
handle a little heat for a day or
two.
The C.O.D. spent three days in
the area recovering and doing a
little
exploring. Lewis mentioned in his
journal the great number of
Carolina
parakeets. I'm not sure what
Carolina parakeets were doing
there. Maybe
hiding to keep from getting killed
by Carolinians. Didn't do them any
good.
They are now extinct.
I started SE of Kansas City and
made a clockwise, semicircle around
the
Kansas Cities. I followed I-470 to
I-435 into Kansas without seeing a
State
boundary sign. These two cities
merge together so much that it is
tough to
figure out which city (or State)
you are in. I-435 bent north and I
followed
it across the Kansas River and then
the Missouri River back into
Missouri.

Kansas
was another State entered
only
briefly.
Just to keep the records
straight, even though my "stay" in
Kansas was
brief, add the following to the
list. Kansas covers 82,264 square
miles (rank
14), about 18% bigger than the next
biggest of the 10 States entered so
far,
Missouri. That's also bigger than
the combined land area of England
and
Scotland. On the other statistic,
Kansas clocks in as the least
populated
State at 2.6 million or about 32
people per square mile. You're
forgiven if
you think Kansas is just one big
flat plain. Lowest elevation is 680
feet
above sea level with a peak of
4,039 feet.
You're also forgiven if you
think that Kansas is dull and a
book about
Kansas would have to be equally
dull. Since you are already
familiar with
William Least Heat-Moon's 1983
book, "Blue Highways" (this is a
must-read for
road travelers), pick up his book
about Kansas called, "Prairie
Erth."
(That's not a misspelling.)
Back in Missouri I jumped off
of the freeway onto Highway 45 to
be able
to get a bit closer to the Missouri
River. (Missouri is an interesting
State.
Its entire eastern boundary is
formed by the Mississippi River and
about 1/3
of the western boundary is formed
by the Missouri River.) As usual, I
found I
was running low on fuel and managed
to get into Weston to fill up.
Small
town. Small station. I'd gotten so
used to the more modern pumps which
allow
you to use your credit card at the
pump ("duck-a-dweeb" system a
friend of
mine calls it; i.e., you don't have
to go into the store to pay the
cashier),
that I was surprised to find an old
fashioned set up and even more
surprised
to find an attendant come out to
pump gas. I'd already started the
process
(including adding the first third
of the Gunk lead substitute), but
he stayed
around to ask the usual questions.
A couple of older guys in bib
overalls
wandered out of the station house
to question me as well. I didn't
see any
chewing tobacco, but I bet it was
around. It also wouldn't have
surprised me
if there was a pot-bellied stove
and a cracker barrel in the
place.
I continued along 45 and along
the Missouri (it's just over
there
someplace) until about where 45
changes into 59 which heads back
NNE towards
St. Joseph. Just about that spot is
one of many similarly named Lewis
and
Clark State Parks. Turns out
there's not much historic to see
and what can be
seen has changed dramatically since
L&C went through on July 4th.
They
celebrated Independence Day by
shooting off the front mounted
swivel gun of
the Discovery at dawn and dusk and
issuing an extra measure of whiskey
to the
men. These guys really know how to
party.

EG
studies the small board explaining
a
little about the Corps of
Discovery's trip through this
area.
From the Park, I followed 59
into St. Joseph (which still looks
like the
river town it is) and then picked
up I-29 to follow it into Iowa.
Lewis and
Clark followed much the same path,
but slower and on the river. It's
around
here were one starts to notice the
change in scenery. Grassland. It's
the
edge of the Great Prairie. Near
where Rulo is (just across the
Missouri in
Nebraska and just above the Kansas
border, Lewis and Clark court
marshaled
Pvt. Willard for lying down and
sleeping while on guard duty. One
hundred
lashes, 25 each day for 4 days was
the punishment. It was a different
time.
It was also not the only such
punishment handed out, but the
Corps of
Discovery came together as one of
the most cohesive exploration units
ever.

The 11th
State EG and I had
visited.
I was to meet Frank Grover (or
gRover as Karl refers to him) at
his
garage in Glenwood, Iowa so I
peeled east off I-29 at exit 35 and
followed
his directions. It was just into
the afternoon. I'd made good time
and was
early, because the time budgeted
for the Lewis and Clark Park wasn't
used. I
parked EG near a big garage with
several British cars around it and
was
greeted by Frank. He showed me
around his interesting and diverse
collection
of cars; including, three
race-prepared British roadsters.
Frank is active in
racing circles and is a wealth of
knowledge of the sport; especially,
in his
area.
Tucked back in a dark corner
was a very early imported 997
Cooper. The
bodywork has been done and most of
the parts have been gathered. The
only
question now is, "When?" Frank,
like most of us, has more projects
(all of
them interesting) than one could do
in a lifetime. Let's hope the Mini
gets
some attention in the near future.
It will be a good one.
Since I was early and Frank had
some things to do, I suggested I
could
just sit out of his way and work on
some travel notes for a while. He
made an
even better offer. The garage where
he does his work is on a small farm
owned
by Edith. Edith, if I remember
correctly, is 88 years young and
has lived on
the farm for over 35 years. Frank
suggested I move the computer into
Edith's
kitchen (where it was cool!) and do
my work there. Between enjoying the
cool
air, sipping a soda or two, working
on the travel notes and talking
with
Edith, I spent a very pleasant
afternoon. The only disappointment
was when
Edith first announced that it is a
rare time when a guest in her
kitchen
doesn't find a fresh baked pie! My,
that sounded good! There was also
the
moment of awakening. Edith reminded
me a lot of my grandmother:
very
self-sufficient, born in a similar
area, sunny disposition. The
awakening
came when I figured out that Edith
was of my mother's generation, not
my
grandmother's. Thoughts of missed,
fresh-baked pie were replaced with
less
pleasant thoughts of aging.
Since Frank was familiar with
older British cars and was active
in racing
circles I mentioned to him my
problem with the unavailability of
Red Line
Lead Substitute. The problem was
quickly solved. He knew that a Red
Line
distributor was located in nearby
Omaha. His contact there, Judy I
believe
her name was, might be able to
help. Not only that, she was a
former Mini
racer! Frank called his wife and
found out she was going into Omaha
that
afternoon so he arranged with Judy
to have two bottles picked up for
me. Talk
about good service! I spoke with
Judy and told her my problems of
finding Red
Line anywhere in the South.
Although she put it much more
politely, it boils
down to stupidity. Their product
costs about $7 for 12 ounces. One
ounce
treats 10 gallons of gas. Most of
the other products sold (of
marginal
capabilities, at best) are about
$2.50 - $3.00 for 12 ounces, but
only treat
up to 20 gallons for the entire
bottle. Pretty much a no-brainer,
but what
happens is that the fine print
about how much can be treated
doesn't get
read. "Three dollars is cheaper
than $7 so I'll just buy the
cheaper one.
A-yup, a-yup."
Frank's chores done, we
wandered outside for photos with
EG, said goodbye
to Edith, and then he led me to his
house back across the Missouri
River into
Nebraska, just outside of Omaha and
not too far from Bellevue. As we
left the
farm, he handed me a bridge token
for the toll bridge that crossed
the
Missouri River. Somewhere down the
road a bit, minor panic set in.
RHD. Toll
bridge. I had visions of a busy
highway where I'd have to jump out
and run
around the car to pay the toll.
Would the gate stay up long enough
for me to
get back in the car and get
through? Would I make enemies of
hoards of people
stuck in line behind me? The bridge
turned out to be no problem. It
was
relatively quiet and had a
tollbooth that actually let the
attendant step
out, if necessary. I'd managed to
roll down the window a crack
while
approaching the booth and used a
long arm to hold the token out the
left
window. I got a big smile from the
attendant as he leaned out to grab
the
token!

Frank and
Edith. Two nice people in a nice
corner of the
world.
Frank's wife had the Red Line
and she had cooked a great meal
(home
cooking was welcome after road food
for several weeks). We ate and sat
around
discussing Minis, the Wolseley
trip, car racing and a number of
other topics,
most of which revolved around four
wheeled vehicles. I borrowed a
phone
connection and checked in to see
what was going on in the Mini
world, and
also spent a few minutes printing
out routes for the next day, while
Frank
watched a bit of the TransAm. Plans
were made for the next morning. I
had a
long drive so wanted to get an
early start. No problem. Frank was
going to be
up at 7:00 to watch the Formula One
race. Now, that is
dedication.
Sunday morning the 26th I was
on the road shortly after 7:00
saying
goodbye to Frank and his
hospitality (and leaving him
watching the race). I
was to wander back into Iowa to
follow the Missouri up into South
Dakota with
the hope of making it to that
State's capital, Pierre, for the
night. (It's
not "Pierre" like the French name.
For some reason it is pronounced
"peer"
like in peer group. Some things
we've done pretty well, like
getting rid of
all the extra letter U's in words
like "colour," but I think this one
is just
down to lazy pronunciation. Go
figure.)
On the way out of the Bellevue
area, I stopped for fuel and added
the 2nd
third of the substitute bottle of
lead substitute. Might as well use
it up
since it's open. I also made a note
to check the car out a bit tonight,
time
permitting. I'd noticed a slight
change in the exhaust note and the
car had
been just a bit harder to start the
past couple of days. Average fuel
mileage
was down a bit as well. Also, the
blue tarp covering the items on the
roof
rack was wearing through in a
couple of spots and should be
replaced with one
I'd bought way back in
Knoxville.
I pulled out of the gas station
with 5,300 miles showing on the
odometer.
EG and I had covered 3,418 miles
since leaving Miami.
Chuck
Heleker
Article Date: Sep 14, 2000
Car Accociations:
MGB,MINI,MORRIS,SPRITE
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