October 17, 2020
After our exhausting climb to the summit of Mount Sunflower 🤣, we needed some nourishment, so we stopped in Syracuse (Kansas, not New York) for lunch and had a very mediocre tostada in a restaurant called "Porky's Parlor." The name alone should have warned us away. Not one other person besides us was wearing a face mask. Yep, Trump county.
However, at least we got to visit the "Home of the USA's First All-female City Council." That was a treat!
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| Mural in the restaurant parking lot |
Our first afternoon stop was Cimarron National Grassland, 108,176 acres of grassy plains bisected by the Cimarron River. National Grasslands are essentially identical to National Forests, but think prairie instead of trees. This grassland, which used to the the territory of the Comanche Indian tribe, is now the largest area of public land in Kansas.
The Native Americans got chased out, but there are still a few local residents left.
Supposedly this is a popular fishing area, but when we were there is was so quiet. There was no one else there, but also no birds, no bunnies, no creepy-crawly things (except the aforementioned grasshoppers).
The Little House on the Prairie books take place in Kansas, and I could picture Laura running across this expanse, her gingham skirt and braids flying out behind her.
Our next stop was Middle Spring, a stop on the Santa Fe Trail, which pretty much bisects Kansas.
These trees are relatively new additions to the site. They certainly weren't here when the pioneers were passing through.
The bridge across the stream is also an addition since Santa Fe Trail days.
The travelers endured miles and miles of prairie with very little water until they reached Middle Spring.
Supposedly, these ruts were made by the wooden wheels of the Conestoga wagons that were a common mode of transportation.
In contrast, this was our rental car--a Jeep Cherokee. I just had to squeeze a picture of it in for the great-great-grandkids. It might seem as foreign to them as the Conestoga wagons do to us.
We walked for a little way down the "trail" to get a feel for it.
Our last stop was at a tall butte called
Point of Rocks. At 3,540 feet, it is the third highest point in the state and was an important landmark for travelers heading west.
An information board at the site has this great quote from Albert Pike. Note that he spells "Cimarron" "Semaron."
Caravans on the 800-mile-long Santa Fe Trail took six to ten weeks to make the journey between Independence, Missouri, and Santa Fe, New Mexico. When the railroad reached Santa Fe in 1880, the Santa Fe Trail gradually slipped into obscurity.
I feel almost guilty for having accessed this spot via an air-conditioned four-wheel drive vehicle.
As we left Point of Rocks and started the drive to our hotel in Clayton, New Mexico, we drove past several of these interesting animals. It looks a little prehistoric, doesn't it? Something to do with fossils, perhaps?
A beautiful sunset was the perfect ending for a fun day.
"A Prairie Sunset" by Walt Whitman
Shot gold, maroon and violet, dazzling silver, emerald, fawn,
The earth's whole amplitude and nature's multiform power consigned for once to colors;
The light, the genial air possessed by them--colors till now unknown,
No limit, confine--not the Western sky alone--the high meridian--North, South, all,
Pure luminous color fighting the silent shadows to the last.
