Woke up and for once had no desire to stay abed. Today we were heading to the prairie! We packed up our little cabin in the woods and prepared for a long haul eastward. We had to make a stop at the world famous tourist trap mecca Wall Drug, which started off in the dusty post-depression days and used the brilliant promise of free ice water to lure in weary travelers.
Today it’s just out of control. I don’t really know how to explain the absurd hugeness of this place – maybe the pic of Colin riding an excessively large jack-a-lope says enough
Driving across South Dakota, I couldn’t help but wonder if we were in the midst of missile silo country…
As we neared De Smet I was excited and a bit apprehensive of the solid bank of heavy gray clouds spanning the big sky. If for some horrible reason you aren’t familiar with LIW lore, De Smet is the setting for five of the Little House books (By the Shores of Silver Lake, Long Winter, Little Town on the Prairie, Happy Golden Years, and the First Four Years). We came through the town on the way to the Ingalls homestead. It was little then, it’s little today.
As we rounded the corner to the homestead my stomach gave a little lurch. It wasn’t on the same awe scale as the grandeur of Rushmore, but it was grand all the same. That’s the Big Slough! That’s the rolling far as your eye can see prairie! That’s the 150 acres of land Pa bet Uncle Sam for! That’s where Almanzo rolled up in his cush buggy to take Laura on their weekly driving dates!
I had not experienced the “coming home” sensation at a literary setting before (I’ve seen Louisa May Alcott’s home as an example). And as we pulled in and stepped out into the strong prairie wind, I let my heart just Be.
I was having a bit of a problem orienting myself – I should have read the books before our trip. And the approaching thunderstorm checked my plans to linger and mull.
They have planted ten acres of corn and wheat using two-horse-powered equipment, which is a great way to create perspective on the work necessary to keep a claim and support a family in such a turbulent climate. They have built Ma’s little house and hay-roofed barn as true as they can be (they used descriptions that Pa made when settling the claim with the government. I learned that these aren’t in the same location as the original, which is in a corner of property owned by the LIW Historical Society. A monument marks the spot where the house stood, among cottonwoods that Pa planted to create a bit of a windbreak, an ironic homage to the heavily wooded region they had left behind because there were too many trees to easily till the land.
The homestead is all very hands on and encourages children to touch and do – which Colin took to heart as he made his cornhusk dolly and a twine rope, and pumped water from the well with Rob’s help. I think his favorite part of this stop was the half-dozen or so kittens that followed him around. They have moved a small period school house on the property, and they have a soddy and a “how the heck did they live in that teeny tiny claim shanty without killing each other.” We got to take a pony cart ride too. Rob drove Oreo like a champ. They had a few baby horses – the two-week old stayed asleep by mama, and another came along on our adventures.
Skip and Barnum, named after one of Almanzo’s prized teams, usually haul around wagons full of be-bonneted Wilder fans. There were no bonnets the day we were there – the off-season comes quickly to the prairie. For the most part we were the only ones cruising around the homestead (also likely due to the fact that we hadn’t realized that we crossed into Central time zone and they were probably keeping the place open for us). The driver let Colin take the reins and the horses actually giddy-upd when Colin hollered Giddy Up! Whoa was a little more tricky but the driver seemed pretty familiar with stepping in.
It was amazing how quiet it was. No traffic noise, no airplanes, just big sky and land. I could imagine how lonely it would be for the women who were in large part alone on these tracts of land for weeks and months at a time with few and far between visits from neighbors. I mean, I like to be alone, probably more than the average bear, but I usually have the TV or music on for company.
I wanted to linger and take another trip up to the viewing tower. But the weather was taking a turn for the worse and we all had low blood sugar. So I snapped a few last pictures in the gloaming and we took off. Back in town we found one restaurant that was open. And the less said the better. Okay, I have to say that Rob ate something that was white bread, hamburger patties, mashed potato and brown outta the can gravy. I have blocked out what I ate. Colin ate a PBJ on white bread, no sides offered or taken.
We found our bed and breakfast – which also carries a little LIW history. It was the home built by Banker Ruth – who, during the Long Winter, bought up the last of the town’s coal and as far as I know never opened his home to his neighbors during near starving conditions. Best bed of the trip. We had a lovely room with a bed for us, and a real Murphy bed for Colin. The rain storm put us out pretty quick and we looked forward to a real breakfast after our travesty of a dinner.
I feel like I should have more to say about seeing the homestead. It wasn’t more or less than I expected. I tried to not have any expectations so that I wouldn’t be disappointed, which I have done to myself before. I would have liked to have had more time/better weather to try to imagine myself in the setting of the stories, and perhaps more knowledgeable docents, but again, off-season has its plusses and minuses. We did have the whole place to ourselves, which probably is a rare occurrence. And the staff we met were all extremely nice people.
Offered us a kitten and everything.
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