Cape Girardeau, Missouri to Pilot Knob, Missouri
This was the second beautiful day in a row, especially for biking. Blue skies, low humidity. Rode from the Cape (as locals refer to Cape Girardeau) to Pilot Knob, MO.
75.78 miles. 6 hrs. 13 min. 1348.2 total miles.
But the numbers are just numbers.
Stopped for lunch at a big cafe near Patton, MO, actually the intersection of Routes 72 and 51. A local I was talking to on the way in, said to “set down y’ere”. So I ate lunch with him. He as an ex-trucker and we talked a bit and then his “good-ol-boy pals” came in and I was left to look at my maps. They tried to get one of the guys whose wife just died, to hit it off with the waitress who claimed she “wasn’t lookin fer a man right now.”
Three things magical today.
Back on the road for a while and I was ready for one of my 10 - 15 mile breaks just shy of Fredericktown, MO, when I came upon a display of metal art alongside the road. Metal insects made from old scrap pieces of metal and junk. Bees, spiders, plus flowers, cannons, wheelbarrows - all sorts of stuff. I decided to take my break here and wander around. Moments later, I met the creator of all this neat stuff. One Thee Otis Cook. He said, “Thee means God in Greek, Otis as in Elevator and Cook as in Hungry!” I told him I admired his stuff but none of it would fit in my trunk! He then took me on a tour of his creations, giving details on how they were made and where some of the unusual parts came from.
My favorite story was of this creative display of old tools welded to a metal frame. He said an antique tool collector came by and said some of the tools on this $65 piece were worth $40 and $50 each. Some of the tools were used to repair specific types of automobiles - many from the 1930’s. But the welds on the tools devalued them.
He told me a bit about his heritage and mentioned he was part English and part Cherokee. I told him that I was, too and he said, “Come here, I want to show you something.” He led me to a gully closer to the road. He said,”This is the actual path of the Trail of Tears.” Now the road I was biking today, Rte. 72 West, had markers every so many miles denoting it as a historic route. But part of the original path ran straight through his yard!
TRAIL OF TEARS
In 1830 the Congress of the United States passed the "Indian Removal Act." Although many Americans were against the act, most notably Tennessee Congressman Davy Crockett, it passed anyway. President Jackson quickly signed the bill into law. The Cherokees attempted to fight removal legally by challenging the removal laws in the Supreme Court and by establishing an independent Cherokee Nation. At first the court seemed to rule against the Indians. In Cherokee Nation v. Georgia, the Court refused to hear a case extending Georgia's laws on the Cherokee because they did not represent a sovereign nation. In 1832, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled in favor of the Cherokee on the same issue in Worcester v. Georgia. In this case Chief Justice John Marshall ruled that the Cherokee Nation was sovereign, making the removal laws invalid. The Cherokee would have to agree to removal in a treaty. The treaty then would have to be ratified by the Senate. By 1835 the Cherokee were divided and despondent. Most supported Principal Chief John Ross, who fought the encroachment of whites starting with the 1832 land lottery. However, a minority(less than 500 out of 17,000 Cherokee in North Georgia) followed Major Ridge, his son John, and Elias Boudinot, who advocated removal. The Treaty of New Echota, signed by Ridge and members of the Treaty Party in 1835, gave Jackson the legal document he needed to remove the First Americans. Ratification of the treaty by the United States Senate sealed the fate of the Cherokee. Among the few who spoke out against the ratification were Daniel Webster and Henry Clay, but it passed by a single vote. In 1838 the United States began the removal to Oklahoma, fulfilling a promise the government made to Georgia in 1802. Ordered to move on the Cherokee, General John Wool resigned his command in protest, delaying the action. His replacement, General Winfield Scott, arrived at New Echota on May 17, 1838 with 7000 men. Early that summer General Scott and the United States Army began the invasion of the Cherokee Nation.
In one of the saddest episodes of our brief history, men, women, and children were taken from their land, herded into makeshift forts with minimal facilities and food, then forced to march a thousand miles(Some made part of the trip by boat in equally horrible conditions). Under the generally indifferent army commanders, human losses for the first groups of Cherokee removed were extremely high. John Ross made an urgent appeal to Scott, requesting that the general let his people lead the tribe west. General Scott agreed. Ross organized the Cherokee into smaller groups and let them move separately through the wilderness so they could forage for food. Although the parties under Ross left in early fall and arrived in Oklahoma during the brutal winter of 1838-39, he significantly reduced the loss of life among his people. About 4000 Cherokee died as a result of the removal. The route they traversed and the journey itself became known as "The Trail of Tears" or, as a direct translation from Cherokee, "The Trail Where They Cried" ("Nunna daul Tsuny").
I took the picture of the day of him standing on the Trail surrounded by some of his creations and a big sign with his name on it. He walked me around the grounds of his home and told me he spends one whole day a week cutting his grass and doing other yardwork. He has a pond and explained to me something I always wondered about. If a pond dries up and the fish die and the pond fills back up, how do the fish come back? And the answer is - certain birds carry the fish eggs on their feet and deposit them in the ponds. He also told me about seeing as many as 40 deer at once out his back window and how sometimes turkeys come up to his den window and watch TV!
Before I left, he had me fill my water bottle from a faucet on the side of his house which is fed by an artesian well and is really cold and deliciously good water. I answered a few of his questions about my trip and my bike. (He offered to give me a kickstand,) Then I bid him adios amigo. Told him I’d send him a copy of Day 20 - since he doesn’t have a computer.
Made it to Arcadia, MO a few miles short of Pilot Knob and took off my shoes and socks and had a beer and a snack. I sat in the grass and looked at the map.
I spotted a laundromat across the street and since it was getting dark, I was gonna sit down in there and write the day’s notes. The laundromat was also the video store and the owner, Domitil- Domi for short, asked me if I needed a place to say. She said I looked tired. I asked if she had any suggestions and she said that I could camp on her lawn if I wanted to. I said, “OK, sounds good to me!” She called her husband and he came down with a pick-up truck to take me to their house. I told him that I have to pedal, so I’ll follow him.
“How far?” I asked.
“About a mile,” he said. Well, it was more like 4 miles (to their house in Pilot Knob) and in the dark Walt - but I didn’t complain. He kept stopping his truck every half mile so I could catch up.
I am writing this now on a lighted deck overlooking a large pond. Their house is about 200 yards away. It’s 10:09 PM and its a starlit night. My tent is set up and I am really exhausted. I can’t believe the kindness to total strangers that exists. Walt and Domi - Thank You!
These Missouri roads are numbered and lettered. Passed a sign for a road called JJ. Also one called O and even OO. Very odd looking to see a junction of Rte. 72 and Rte. MM, say.
So far the drivers and passengers are mildly harassing. Got a few - “Get the fuck off the road”s today. All in all, very scenic though. Tomorrow night - a hotel in Eminence, MO.
One last note. It’s 3:30 AM and I woke up. There are a million stars in the sky but the brightest thing I see is an American flag made form red, white, and blue bulbs burning in the night. It sits at the end of Walt’s deck so all who drive by on Route 21 at night can see Old Glory glowing out there across the pond. My view is through the spokes of the front wheel of my bike. The cheap camera I will use to take a picture (Okay, I bend the one picture a day rule), to capture this moment, won’t do it justice.
The flag, the stars - it’s the middle of the night - maybe I’m just dreaming here in Pilot Knob....