Yesterday was sort of a heat-addled blur for us. After Linda's dialysis, we got out of Grand Island at noon and had a drive of about 320 miles to Scottsbluff. The temperature in the afternoon was never below 94 and for much of the drive it wavered between 100 and 102. Even though we blasted the air conditioner, we were heading west into the sun and its heat drained us anyway. What a perfect way to appreciate the suffering of the people who followed the same route more than 150 years earlier--in covered wagons. The drive up Highway 26 to Scottsbluff follows the old Oregon Trail, and we have no idea how they made it.
We stopped at a rest area near Sutherland and talked with an elderly woman at the information desk who told us that when she was young she met a 97-year-old woman who had made the crossing in the 1860s. That woman buried three children along the way, but through incredible will-power she endured. What else was she going to do. They averaged less than two miles a day on the 2,000-mile trek along the bumpy planet to the outer reaches of the country's "manifest destiny," without knowing what they would face along the way. So I guess we do have some idea of how they made it: they had to be intrepid, tenacious, resourceful, optimistic, tough-minded, and dedicated. Linda could have done it.
Scottsbluff was a landmark on the trail because of its tall, rocky buttes and odd formations which made it a place where friends and family could meet. We arrived in time to shower and drive out to the National Monument as the sun set behind it, a spectacular sky to end the day. The park closed at sunset so we just missed entry, but parked on the road for a half-hour to take in the earth-toned bluffs. We'll be heading back shortly to explore the monument before heading to our next stopping point, Cheyenne, Wyoming. We are hardly pioneers, but can take our wearying drive of yesterday and multiply it by a thousand to get some idea of what those people did to make our country grow.
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