WATER - WHERE YOU WANT IT AND WHERE YOU DON'T...

Fireworks lit up the sky in about four different directions well into the late hours on July 4^th.  Since the RV Park I was staying at [in Cheyenne, WY] had cable, I was lucky enough to find a “Twilight Zone” marathon on the SyFy channel.  Every now and then the vibrations from the loudest fireworks made me jump.  Seemed appropriate, considering what I was watching.   A wonderful old black and white program that was -- and still is!  I’m so happy many, if not all, of the episodes are closed-captioned. 

I must have been in a twilight zone of my own the next morning [Tuesday, July 5^th] because I made a series of blunders looking to get on Rt. 85 N.  I should have been on I-25 N for the connection to Rt. 85 but somehow I was on I-80 E instead.  Consulting my map, I decided to take an exit about 20 miles further east and get on a farm road marked WY-143.  According to my map, this little back road traversed through a tiny speck called Hillsdale and eventually connected to Rt. 85.  I took that exit, found myself going east on a frontage road parallel to the I-80 westbound lane, and then missed the left turn onto WY-143 because the little “Hillsdale” sign with the little arrow didn’t materialize until right there at the junction and I was going too fast to make the turn.  I looked for a place to turn around and when I found a potentially decent dirt driveway, I checked my mirror and there were two vehicles bearing down on me.  Not wanting to tick off those drivers by forcing them to slow down on my account, I kept going and ended up on a ramp for I-80 W. 

Alrighty, now what, Mapita?  Consider yourself defeated and go all the way back to Cheyenne and try again to find the elusive Rt. 85 N?  Or, be a stubborn ole girl and get on that dang road to Hillsdale?  I decided to be a stubborn ole girl and after about 30 minutes or so I made the connection to Rt. 85 N.  Letting out a whoop, I declared that miscues like this are indeed part of my “Camper Adventures” experience! 

At Lusk, WY I turned onto Rt. 20 E and crossed into northwest Nebraska, the Panhandle Region.  It was a pleasant drive through a landscape of rocky bluffs and green, rolling hills and pastures.  Just like the Dakotas, which are just north of Nebraska, the fields along this way were scattered with bales of hay that were mostly rolled rather than squared.   

Taking a quick drive around the historic Fort Robinson State Park, near Crawford, where I thought I might stop for the night, I changed my mind and headed further east to the Chadron State Park, located just off Rt. 385 S.  As I pulled up to the office, I noticed the fishing pond to my right and thought the place looked familiar.  When I got to my site, I checked my records and, yup, I was here in August 2008.  I’d been traveling around North and South Dakota that summer and drove through a small section of western Nebraska on my way back home.

Back on Rt. 20 E the next morning [Wednesday, July 6^th] I drove a few miles east of Chadron and spent a little over an hour visiting the Museum of the Fur Trade.  The museum has an extensive display of the range of goods that were traded to Indians which included textiles, dyes, gunpowder, tools, knives, guns, and other items that were made in France and England.  Items made by Indians were also on display.  With a few exceptions, everything was authentic and had been found all over North America’s trade routes.  Outside the museum stood the Bordeaux Trading Post and warehouse, built near Bordeaux Creek in 1837.  It was operated by Frenchman James Bordeaux who did business with the Sioux until 1872.  The trading post was later closed when the next owner-operator was discovered to be selling “repeating rifles” and ammunition to the Sioux. 

I was most intrigued by the display about the “Voyageurs.”  A French word which literally translates to “traveler,” voyageurs were --

“…canoe men who moved the fur trade goods and furs across the continent.  For nearly three centuries, birchbark canoes, keelboats, York boats, Mackinaw boats, log pirogues, and skin canoes plied most of North America’s waterways to supply the trading forts and bring in the furs.”  

When you consider the time that these canoe men lived and worked, North America’s rivers were as wild as the land itself.  The rivers were not dammed, as they are today, and as such, they were fast moving in many places, with treacherous rapids and obstacles that these voyageurs had to maneuver.  Whenever these men encountered situations which prevented them from paddling any further (e.g., shallow water, waterfalls), they had to gather up and carry all the goods they were transporting, including the canoes and paddles.  Each man was expected to carry, on his back, four loads of goods, each load weighing 95 pounds, and hike however many miles to wherever the river picked up again.



Bordeaux Trading Post, near Chadron, NE



Inside the Bordeaux Trading Post

 

On the grounds of the Bordeaux Trading Post



I drove on to Valentine, very much enjoying the scenery along Rt. 20.  Nebraska has nine scenic byways and this one is called the “Bridges to Buttes Byway.”  It got even better when I turned onto Rt. 97 S for the 30-mile drive to the Merritt Reservoir State Recreation Area.  I was the only vehicle on this road – a narrow two-lane ribbon of a road, winding through and going up and down gorgeous green hills.  I was almost disappointed when I arrived at the reservoir, but I will be going back that way tomorrow!

It amuses me sometimes when it appears I may possibly be the very first deaf person somebody has ever encountered.  This young fellow, maybe 17 or 18 years old, at the reservoir’s concession had the most befuddled look on his face when he heard my question about camping fees.  His attempt at a response – which was a whole string of words, none of which I could catch – just made me laugh.  Fortunately, an older fellow (probably his Dad) came to his rescue (and mine!) and proceeded to explain what I needed to do.  He was kind enough to write on a piece of paper and I’d daresay this whole episode may have turned out to be the young man’s most valuable lesson for today.  

I picked a site with a partial view of the reservoir (great fishing here, so says the brochure, but I’m here for the water) and just as I got myself settled in, it started to pour rain, accompanied by lightning and thunder.  Now and then I checked the window vent above the bed for leaks, and finding none, I concluded that it is highly probable David Y. (my camper dealer pal) has fixed the problem -- yay!  It eventually cleared and, much to my delight, I had a direct view the setting sun, which set shortly after 9:00 p.m.

Heading back to Valentine on the lovely Rt. 97 [on Thursday, July 7^th] I then got on Rt. 12 E, the “Outlaw Trail Scenic Byway,” and soon turned off a side road to visit and drive the 3.5-mile Auto Tour through the Fort Niobrara National Wildlife Refuge.  There was a frontier fort here (1879-1906) with nearly 100 buildings and over 800 soldiers.  The only structure left standing is a hay shed which stored hay for the large herd of military horses.  The 19,131 acre refuge is now home to managed herds of about 350 bison, 70 elk, a prairie dog town, and over 230 species of birds.  There’s a beautiful pond within the refuge and because “…of its location near the center of the continent, the refuge is on the flight path for many species of migratory birds.”  Near the end of the drive, I parked and walked along a short trail to the top of Fort Falls, then took 60 steps down to the base of the falls, and returned to the parking lot by way of a 3/4-mile trail that followed the banks of the Niobrara River.



Pond within the Fort Niobrara National Wildlife Refuge, near Valentine, NE



 

Hillside above the Niobrara River, Fort Niobrara National Wildlife Refuge 



Niobrara River, Fort Niobrara National Wildlife Refuge

About 10 miles further east I turned into the Smith Falls State Park and decided to stay here for the night.  No hookups here but my camper’s batteries are holding up OK and the propane is keeping my fridge cold and my all-important ice frozen.  From my spot on a grassy rise, I could just see the Niobrara River, about 50 yards away.  I also noticed people walking by in their swim suits.  Grabbing the state park’s brochure I searched the site map but didn’t find any symbol or indication for “swimming.”  Being that it was hot and a bit humid, I thought those folks walking by had the right idea -- and that they must also know something. 

Smith Falls, a Nebraska landmark, is the tallest of the waterfalls along the Niobrara River Valley.  Whatever one’s image of Nebraska, the state, hardly flat as I’ve seen thus far, does have waterfalls.  Along a 20-mile stretch of the Niobrara River Valley, more than 180 falls are recorded.  The Niobrara River itself is Nebraska’s most popular canoeing, kayaking, and tubing river with a 76-mile segment designated as a National Scenic River.        

Ready to go see Smith Falls, I put my swim suit on underneath my shorts and t-shirt and headed out.  A walking bridge made of steel and thick wooden planks (which I later learned is the historic Smith Falls Bridge) crossed the Niobrara River and that’s when I saw the most delightful scene -- people splashing about near a sandy bank.  I went to see the falls first and as I got ready to take video and pictures, I sensed something behind me and turned around.  First there were two, and then right behind them, a horde of about 20 teenage girls - so young, so fresh, and wearing skimpy two-piece bathing suits – streamed right past me, smiling and laughing and chattering away, and got themselves all wet and everything under and around the falls.  They were amusing to observe…and I did remember to take some pictures and video. 

Refreshing!  So cool and refreshing!  The tug of the current was gentle and the steady flow of the water kept me so cool I thought I could just stay right there in the river forever!  Such bliss!  What else can I say?  It was perfect!  It was just me and two other ladies, in our own little pool of the Niobrara River.



Smith Falls, Smith Falls State Park, near Sparks, NE



The next morning [Friday, July 8^th] I took a winding dirt road to check out another bridge, the historic Brewer Bridge, a 152-foot steel truss built in 1899.  It was just about 9:00 a.m., perfect timing on my part because not long after I got there, people started arriving, including a busload of more young teens.  Other vehicles arrived, bearing floats and tubes, and everybody was getting ready to launch from that spot for a day of fun on the river.  It IS summer after all! 

Brewer Bridge, Sparks, NE

From there I got back on Rt. 12 E and decided to just do a leisurely drive along a portion of this 231-mile stretch of the “Outlaw Trail Scenic Byway.”  This picturesque highway, which runs parallel with the Niobrara River on the right and traverses through a “diverse landscape of wetlands, lowlands, grasslands, rolling hills, hilly bluffs, and wide open prairies and wooded groves” is full of history revolving around Lewis and Clark and outlaws such as Doc Middleton and Jesse and Frank James.  I thought maybe a good place to stop for the night would be the Niobrara State Park, near the town of Niobrara, right on Rt. 12.

At the junction with Rt. 281 S, I noticed a bright orange “detour” sign for Rt. 12 overlapping with Rt. 281.  Momentarily confused, I stayed on Rt. 12 itself and then soon came upon an electric sign that flashed “Route 12 closed east and west of Niobrara.”  Since there were several small towns along the way, on the approach to Niobrara, I figured there would be another detour up ahead.  No problemo, Mapita!

Just past the town of Verdel, population 50 something, there was the big orange and white “Road Closed” roadblock.  Now it dawns on me – there’s no other detour!  I had to turn around and go back 25 miles to where I ignored the “detour” sign.  Making the U-turn on the deserted road, I spotted the town’s historic jail.  Made of concrete the tiny structure couldn’t have been more than five feet wide, five feet deep, and eight feet high!  Ah, I told myself when I stopped to take pictures of the jail -- it’s all in the adventure of the journey! 

The jail in Verdel, NE

Back where I was supposed to be, the detour overlapped with Rt. 281, Rt. 20 E, and then with Rt. 14 N to Niobrara.  During this nearly two hour roundabout detour, I recalled recent news reports and wondered if the Missouri River had something to do with the road closing.  As with the Niobrara River to its south, Rt. 12 also runs parallel to the Missouri river to its north.  And, the town of Niobrara is where both rivers meet. 

Arriving at the Niobrara State Park shortly after 4:00 p.m., I asked the lady at the entrance about the road closure and she confirmed my speculation – the roads were flooded.  And, no, the water had not receded and no, they don’t know when it will.    

At my site, I pulled out my blue chair and sat outside looking at the Niobrara River, the eastern end of it, actually.  It was a long day and a long drive and I had no energy to even do any writing on my laptop.  I’ll just sit out here and read my book (Stephen King’s Lisey’s Story).  That I did, all the while scratching at the mosquito bites I’d incurred over the last few days and flicking away gnats that teased my eyelids, my ears, my nose.  Brushing my teeth later and getting ready for bed, I thought a saw a moth or something on the back of my t-shirt, just inches from my right ear.  Bird crap!  Ahhh, nature!

Leaving the state park just before 9:00 a.m. the next morning [Saturday, July 9^th] I got back on the Rt. 12 detour around and past Niobrara via Routes 14 S - 84 E - 81 N and was back once again on the “Outlaw Trail Scenic Byway.”  After about two hours, I decided I really didn’t want to do any more driving today.  Yesterday had zapped my energy and I don’t particularly want to fall too far behind in my writing.  By noon I had backed the camper into a shady spot in a wooded section of the Ponca State Park.  I can’t see it because the campground is up on a bluff, but the Missouri River is just down below.  The lady at the office said the lower section of the park is closed because of flooding.  There’s an overlook and I plan to go for a look-see tomorrow.   For now, I just want to eat some lunch, catch up on my writing, read and rest.

As I write this, it’s Sunday, July 10th.  It’s another hot day, around the high 80s, which is mild compared to Palm Springs, but it’s also been humid the last couple of days and that raises the heat index considerably.  Since last night I’ve been having this debate with myself.  “Look here, MAP, you stubborn ole girl you, your camper, which you’re paying a pretty penny for, has air conditioning – use it!”  Yeah, since I started traveling in the camper in 2006, I have yet to use the AC.  The heat I’ve used (bless the propane!) and I’m fairly certain I will use the AC…for the first time…soon…   

On my way out of the Ponca State Park around 8:30 this morning, I went up to the overlook to see the Missouri River.  Unfortunately, it was as hazy as it was humid and this otherwise beautiful scenic view wasn’t.  I didn’t try to take any pictures.  I wanted to get back on Rt. 12 E and let the wind cool me down.  Rt. 12 turned southward and ended at South Sioux City.  At that point, I picked up Rt. 75 S, the “Lewis and Clark Scenic Byway.”  The terrain here, I noted, was much flatter and there were crop fields everywhere, mostly corn, I think.  Interestingly enough, I didn’t see any livestock.     

I encountered only one detour sign, which took me around the town of Macy via Routes 77 S and 51 E.  There were, however, many “Road Closed” roadblocks and orange/white road repair cones and barrels throughout much of this highway.  South of Omaha I started to see flooded crop fields on either side of the road.  The Platte River, a major Nebraska river which branches out from the Missouri River, had reached very high levels as well.  Running parallel to me were railroad tracks and when I crossed the Platte River I looked over at the railway bridge and saw that the top surface of the river was nearly touching the bottom of the bridge.  High indeed, very high!

At Nebraska City I looked for and found the Victorian Acres RV Park and Campground.  It’s located on Rt. 2, about a mile east of Rt. 75.  Just a few miles further east is the Missouri River and on the other side of the river is Iowa.  Not far from the RV Park, in that direction, is a roadblock.  Gosh…

The office was both open and closed.  The sign on the door advised that the operators were doing chores on the grounds and to please use the telephone on the right and they’ll be right there.  I did as instructed, picked up the phone, dialed the number provided, said “hello-hello-hello-hi-hi-hi” into the mouthpiece, hung up and waited.  Sure enough, not a minute passes and this golf cart comes up from the campground towards the office.  The husband/wife duo both gave me the thumbs-up when I did my ear-poke thing and told them I was deaf.  I asked the Mrs. if my phone call worked.  She smiled and said “Yes!”  After I paid and they gave me my site assignment, I asked about the road closures.  They said that the Missouri had flooded about nine miles beyond its banks.  Trying to remember what I read about the flooding in this region, I asked again later and learned that because of extensive snowmelt up north, the dams had overflowed and they had to open the dams to release the water.  It will be a long time before this water recedes, the lady said.

I decided last night to stay here again today [Monday, July 11^th] so I can do my laundry, catch up on emails, and review my Nebraska materials.  There are more scenic byways to drive on and much more of Nebraska to see!