Day 7, Tuesday
Still early for Kansas City
I’m up my usual time and thinking about the day ahead. I don’t have to be in Kansas City, Mo., until Thursday and I’m booked there for two days. I don’t know if I want to spend much more nights than that, so I can take my time again today and do some sightseeing.
At breakfast a nice young man tells me the biscuit of the biscuits and gravy will taste better if I warm it up in the microwave first and the kitchen lady agrees. She says there’s not much to see between here and KC. My biscuit heated, I add a little gravy over the top, and put a spoonful of berry compote on the side. Wow, it is good! The heated biscuit makes it softer, tastier, and not so dry and chewy. I’ll have to remember this.
I check out of the hotel around 10 a.m. The temperature is already at 93 degrees and it’s hazy, hot, and humid. Ugh, not my favorite kind of weather. Still, after yesterday’s success, I’m on a high and eager to see what I can find today.
However, as I drive along I-70W, also U.S. 40, the only attraction signs I see are for antique malls, cowboy boots, and wineries. I don’t consider antique stores an attraction, what would I do with cowboy boots, and it’s too early for winery tours. Letters on signs instead of road names catch my eye: F, J, H, M – I have no idea what these all mean. Sometimes U.S. Route 40 takes a slight detour and parallels the interstate as Old U.S. Route 40. I’m tempted to go that route to be able to drive at a slower pace and perhaps have more opportunity to stop for photographs. That would take much longer to get from here to there, though, and it doesn’t make sense as it’s mostly right beside I-70, so I stay on the interstate.
The attractions sign coming up to Exit 170 in Danville, Mo., advertises Graham Cave State Park. Hmmm, I wonder what’s there, and as nothing else has caught my attention, I decide it’s time for a break. A sign off the ramp directs me onto TT road which seems like a narrow service road. It amazes me how two miles can feel so far. This is a lot of farmland and trees which I enjoy. I pass a huge campground and keep going as the road becomes narrower.
I reach an area with a couple of dark brown, wooden buildings and one has a visitors’ sign. It’s small inside. I chat with a woman behind the desk while I meander around looking at the displays of artifacts found in the area and read the story of Graham Cave. It’s interesting, but what I’m seeing is leading me to believe the cave won’t be that impressive. She tells me it’s a short drive farther and the trail is 0.3 miles uphill. My spirits drop as I think, uphill and in this heat? However, I’ve come this far, I may as well check it out.
I follow her directions driving down the hill passing trail crossings. There is a parking and picnic area off to the right at the bottom of the hill. I turn left and go to the end where there is a large parking lot. It’s a little cooler down here, but the humidity is stifling. I grab the camera and walking stick and head off toward the trail. The incline is quite steep, but at least it’s paved and tree-lined providing some shade.
I begin the trek and within minutes, sweat is dripping. I push on, one tiny step at a time, stopping often to take a photo of a leaf or a plant. I hope I’m not wasting my time and that this is not just some little hole in a rock.
Then I round a corner and look up. The pavement ends at an open area in the trees and I get my first sight of the cave. Oh, my, maybe this is going to be interesting after all.
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| It looked like some monster ready to swallow unsuspecting visitors. |
The hill burst up a section of ground like a monster jumping out of a quiet, woodland ready to eat unsuspecting victims. Immediate attention is on its giant, dark, mouth, gaping open in an odd, menacing sneer. Two rock layers form the top lip in its wide, snake-shaped head and above, prairie-type grass forms a hairy crew cut. This section of hill is definitely head-shaped and at the back of the head, tall trees resume just as if some creature did push up out of the ground. A grassy area forms the bottom lip and a huge floor-to-ceiling chain-link fence fills the cavernous mouth, its fence posts long thin teeth.
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| Not so menacing from this angle. |
I slowly climb the last few yards where the pavement gives way to the large, grassy lawn. This is spooky being here alone, but as I get closer, I see someone near one of the walls. Ah, yes, the lady at the visitors’ center had said a park ranger might be here.
Storyboards are at the edge of the grass area. One explains the formation of the cave and the types of rock: dolomite or limestone and sandstone. Another storyboard tells of the archeological efforts at the site and the importance of archeology and the recording of the information. I take photos which I will read later and I will also peruse websites for even more details when I write the story.
Graham Cave State Park
The park is 386 (websites differ in the actual figure) acres which offers camping, hiking trails, and boating and fishing on the Loutre River. Native Americans once inhabited the cave and when settlers came, they used the cave to shelter livestock. Artifacts were collected throughout the years and eventually family descendants allowed archeologists to excavate. Artifacts discovered date back to pre-Columbian times, 10,000 years. The site was designated as a National Historic landmark in 1961 and in 1964 the property was donated to the state for use as a state park.
The sandstone cave’s entrance is 120 feet wide and 60 feet high. Information storyboards are in front of the cave at a distance so as not to be in the way of anyone taking photos.
(I am disappointed there’s not a lot more information on websites, but you can type in the park’s name to read more. It is an interesting place to visit and I didn’t explore any of the other trails which would be worth hiking. It is a beautiful area.)
I cross the grass trying to peer ahead into the darkness beyond the fence which allows visitors to get about 20 feet under the overhang. The man is scrubbing the wall on one side and he waves. I walk over.
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| Park Ranger, Peter Hayes, explains the problems with removing modern-day graffiti. |
Peter Hayes, the park ranger (I forget to write down his real title), is a most interesting 25-year-old who loves history and geology. He works for the Missouri State Parks, but also liaisons with the archeological people. He also has a tie to New Hampshire. His first required internship was as a camp counselor and hike leader for fourth graders at Lake Winnipesaukee. His hikes often included trips up Mount Washington.
The fence is to preserve the archeological dig and prevent current visitors from causing more damage. His current project is removing recent graffiti (done by today’s vandals as compared to ancient drawings which need to be preserved). It’s a painstaking effort taking days to carefully remove it by layers. “The goal is to do the least amount of damage while restoring and preserving the cave’s cultural resource during the restoration project,” Hayes explains.
I’d so like a closer look at the back of the cave. I try getting photos through the chain link. It doesn’t work, but still, this place is fascinating. I look at the different textures in the rock as Hayes explains the types of stones of the area: dolomite, limestone, sandstone, and shale. I’m a lover of rocks, too, and find what he has to say very interesting. I point out patterns on the walls. He says the divots were caused by water and that humidity and lichen turn sections of the rock green. He speculates the river ran through this area a million years ago and its swirling currents carved out this cave. I try to picture that as we are on a high hillside, but I also can see, in looking at the cave that it does look like it was carved out by water… and not just water seeping through the limestone.
He calls this area a glade, but there’s a difference to how I always understood the term: A grassy opening within a forest. He explains how the glades were formed here. I now wish I paid more attention to what I was reading at the visitors’ center earlier. There was a whole write-up describing glades, but I thought I knew what a glade was and didn’t read it.
Glade
The term “glade” in the Midwest has more meaning: It’s usually a southwest-facing, prairie-like, rocky slope within a forest. The type of bedrock under the shallow soil creates unique vegetation and wildlife habitat due to harsh, dry conditions.
Other visitors are now waiting to ask questions, so I move off to take pictures of the striations and patterns in the stone and the textures between the walls and floor of the cave. Hayes points out holes made by groundhogs.
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| Dolomite/limestone above and sandstone floor. |
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| I love patterns and textures and colors |
I make my way back to the parking lot down the steep incline of the trail. Sometimes going down is harder on my legs than going up. Another ranger is making his way up and we stop to chat. He says storms in this area come up suddenly causing flooding -- including the parking lot. I had noticed deep trenches on either side of the paved trail and wondered how hard it rained to create them. I thank him and as I make my way to the parking lot, I can hear thunder. The sky, which had been sunny and blue with puffy white clouds up top is now dark gray in overcast. Guess I’d better get on my way before the parking area floods.
It’s 12:40 p.m. and I leave Graham Caves in high spirits. This is a fascinating place to visit and I am always excited when I have good conversations. I appreciate it when people take time to talk to me. I want to know things about the areas – I can’t always remember much even when I try to write things down, but I want to know.
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| The sky is falling! |
I’m eager to get to a hotel so I can write about the day’s adventure. The sky gets darker and darker. It’s fascinating and spooky at the same time and being in the Midwest, tornado comes to mind. There’s one section across the landscape where it looks like the sky is actually falling to the ground in a dark blue-gray sheet. A few seconds later the sky does fall – hard.
Visibility drops to a few feet. In seconds, I go from feeling joy to being scared to death. I can just barely make out the taillights of the car in front of me. I don’t dare stop, but slow from 70 mph to 60. Others don’t even slow down! I’m in the left lane with vehicles passing on the right. I don’t dare move over. This storm passes, but another immediately follows and I get behind a semi, but he’s driving faster than I dare. The temperature drops from 86 degrees to 72.
I see a sign for Olive Garden in Columbia, Mo. I need something familiar to calm me down after the frightening rain storms. I take the exit and drive for over five blocks. I never see an Olive Garden or any place I care to stop, so I turn around and go back to the interstate.
A couple exits later there is a sign for Applebees. This might work even though it’s still Columbia. Traffic is heavy and the ramp comes off onto a roundabout at least two-three lanes. I can’t tell because it looks like vehicles are coming at me in every direction and I have to watch everything. Rotaries scare me. I try not to panic. Part of me wants to just stop and scream. But I can’t and just stick close to the car in front of me. We cross over the interstate to… another roundabout. Arrgghhh! I have never seen anything like this in my life and nor do I want to again!
I’m really ready to have a meltdown. I keep close to another car. I can see Applebees on the left. I have to come to almost a complete stop (thankfully the cars behind me are polite) to get into the turn lane at a set of lights and a couple minutes later, I’m parked. My adrenaline is racing and the first thing I blurt to the hostess is, “What the heck is with those two rotaries one after the next?”
Both the hostess and waitress say the roundabouts are a horror. They get complaints from customers all the time. They have to explain a couple of times how to get back onto I-70W. The thought of having to deal with those two roundabouts and the traffic have me at my wits’ end. I order a Bahama Mama. I need a drink!
“Those are on special today; $5.95 for 25 ounces,” she tells me. “Do you want that?”
Hell, yes! I can’t say no to that. I also order my usual 4-cheese mac ‘n’ cheese with bacon. Ohhh, this is so good! I need it and totally enjoy lunch. I dread having to get back on the road, but at least I feel better. I write down some notes and try to concentrate on the good of the day. One thing enjoyable about the driving is the sunflowers along the sides of the road. Sunflowers are such happy flowers.
I leave the restaurant feeling satisfied with the meal and a lot calmer than when I arrive. It’s 2 p.m., so perhaps I won’t go on to Kansas City. I carefully make my way around the roundaboust following the waitress’ directions and soon I’m heading west on I-70. It’s good to get out of the city and into farmlands and greenery again.
I pull off the highway when I see a Comfort Inn sign. This is Boonville. I have to listen hard to understand the desk clerk. She assigns Room 109 and I buy quarters as I need to do laundry. I drag all my luggage inside. The room is dark, dingy, and doesn’t look the cleanest. Eww, not again.
The laundry facilities are just outside the pool area. I decide to go for a swim while my clothes are in the washer. The washer and dryer are in a closet behind bi-fold doors. There’s rust on both machines. Ewww. I fill the washer, put in the detergent and the required amount of quarters then go into the pool room.
I swim to the deep end and begin the exercises. Wait, what’s that floating? It’s a bug. I look around the rim and see more dead bugs floating on the water’s surface; lots of bugs. Nooo! I look around further and notice dirt and neglect. This place is gross! I’m not staying in here. Bugs get in places, it’s understandable, but there’s a difference to a place not being cleaned or well maintained. This place has to be one of the worst I’ve ever stayed in!
I drip back to my room after toweling off quickly. Even the hallway is dingy and smells musty. All my clothes are in the washer, so I roll up towels to sit on and set up the laptop. I go back to the washer and put the clothes in the dryer (have to get more quarters and put the machine through three cycles before my clothes were dry... and they do not smell the cleanest.)
I am homesick and depressed and not liking this trip at all. Most of the hotel rooms have not been up to my standards… I don’t expect elegance, but I want nice and clean. The price certainly costs enough. Just get me through the next few days and I can go home. I don’t want to be crying every day. Gosh, how could I have loved the traveling to Florida so much? What makes this trip so different (besides crappy hotel rooms)?
This place appalls me so much I can’t even write about it!
End of day overview:
Average weather: hot and humid, heavy rains
Places visited: Graham Caves; Sasha rating: 5
Miles driven today: 129
Trip total: 1,430
Hours driven: 4 ½
Hotel: Comfort Inn, Boonville, Mo.; Sasha Rating: 1 – disgusting!
Meal: Applebees, Columbia, Mo.; Rating: 5
Expenses:
Meals: $31.21 Hotel: $96.80
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