We weren't sure we'd actually be able to make it to De Smet from Walnut Grove that night, as we left rather late in the day. The wind continuously beat at our van, and we had to stop in Brookings to eat and make a quick stop for a cooler restock. I felt ok with this since "Brookins," (as Laura spelled it in Pioneer Girl, her first memoir) has some historical significance, Pa having traveled there to file on his claim.
See here. I've got the proof. Zoom in, Laura friends.
By this time, the convergence of chasing the old while living in the modern world was making me feel odd. It was hard to reconcile my vision of how things were in Laura's 1880's with my stopping for McDonald's coffee. I had some fantastical illusion that because I wasn't traveling like Laura, I couldn't really understand her life, which, after all, is what I'm always after. I get to a certain level and then I just want more. And there's always more to be had. And here I was taking the easy route. The same route as her, but in an easier fashion. I think you get the point.
We pushed on until De Smet, where several signs beckoned us to stay and explore Laura. As if I needed beckoning. I refused to look at anything Laura-ey that night when I was tired. We had reserved a room at the Super Deluxe Inn, the only year round hotel in town. It was super down home. The kind of motel where the kids can run free safely. Had a pool, so kids were happy. The owner is a super nice guy who had been stationed in Michigan in the military years ago. I always say you really can't get to know a town until you mingle with the laid back country folk:) (Dumb & Dumber reference, but I hold it to be true!) One of our two mornings he sat down to breakfast with us and filled us in on De Smet lore and in particular, that he had previously owned the Prairie House Manor, a popular B&B a few doors down from Ma and Pa's last home on 3rd Street. (By the way, anyone who's planning to stay at the Super Deluxe this spring/summer touring season, please note that the Inn was flooded in January and they've been under construction ever since, so be mindful that things are a bit jumbled there at the moment).
When I saw how late we were getting to town that first night, I realized with Sunday being the next day, the museum would be closed and we'd have to/"get to!" stay for two nights. Joe was such a good sport, even though aside from Laura, the quiet town boasted only a Subway, a gas station, and little else. Everything else was closed on Sunday, including the old timey, adorable, and history filled downtown, complete with the Ward's General store and the original Loftus Store of Long Winter lore. I ached to comb that Main Street (Calumet Avenue) with my guidebook, noting where Pa's store building used to be (where the Ingalls family nearly starved to death during the hard winter of 1880-81) and the Wilder boys' feed store, to name just a few. I knew before I went there that a good two days at least was needed, because of the five Little House books that covered the Ingalls/Wilder time period there. (We made several trips to the Wilder Feed store site during our stay, because what now lies there is the town's grocery store, Maynard's).
But first, Palm Sunday mass, only the time advertises online was 9am and when we got to St. Thomas Aquinas Church at 8:45, not a car was in sight. Was the priest sick?? The kids and I explored the beautiful church and did a few minutes of adoration, and then used the bathroom downstairs. We nearly ran into a woman coming in to prepare the church for a funeral later, and I ended up having a great chat with her about life in De Smet, how she came to be there, and that her daughter used to conduct the Laura tour - what luck! She told us what we could expect at the tour the next day. When I asked her what the locals think of the Ingalls/Wilder connection, she said they don't think anything of it. Of course that's normal, but if I moved there, I doubt I'd think of anything else. The town is so small and owes its popularity to the Ingalls and Wilders. But such as it is. Joe had been waiting in the van long enough so I excused myself to go upstairs and find the kids. I found them, alright, completely splayed out on the two front pews, coloring. They had brought the communion cushions over to make it more comfortable, and had lit a bunch of candles. I guess I left them along too long while talking to my friend downstairs. We cleaned up and left, to begin the self- guided walking/driving tour that fans usually do after the home tour, but we had to do Sunday when the tour was closed.
That afternoon was truly magical. We started at the Kingsbury County Cemetery, which was unexpectedly emotional for me. To see the graves of Ma, Pa, Mary, Carrie, and unnamed "Baby Wilder" was so moving. Seeing the graves of loved ones we've lost is something normal and everyday in all people's lives no matter where in time, so that's probably why here the old and new finally converged for me; the idea melded together with the reality. The Ingalls family had truly lived on this earth! Death is so closely tied to life is it not?
Those prairie winds gusted up forcefully around the cemetery, so much so that I could hardly breathe. We jumped back into the van and headed for the Laura and Almanzo homestead and further on, their tree claim, a few miles northwest of town.
So much sadness had happened to them in their early married life - the death of their infant son, crop failures, diphtheria that left Almanzo crippled, and a house fire in which they lost everything. My favorite chapter from the book that describes this time period, The First Four Years, is the first, when Bess, as Manly called her, describes her first seeing the home he built for them on the homestead:
"Laura was so delighted with the pantry that she stood in the doorway for several minutes, admiring it," writing also that "it was a bright and shining little house and it was really all theirs...it belonged to just Manly and her" (FFY, 12-14). Her pride of ownership is evident, and I did my best to envision it perched high on the hill before we drove on.
The next part of our tour felt like one of Laura and Manly's Sunday buggy rides, as we drove about 7 mph on country roads, the sound of prairie grasses singing in the wind, and Jack rabbits hopping across in front of us. I thought of the lovers stopping the buggy to gather choke cherries and wild roses as their romance blossomed, and here I was with my own Manly, "reliving" it all (sob in throat:)
We slowly drove many miles with our windows down, so we could hear the wind sweeping through the prairie grasses. I cannot emphasize enough how beautiful it all was. Laura said about this phenomenon that you truly have to walk the land to experience the prairie. It is a rich, complex ecosystem I want to explore more later on. I could have done this all day. We were going so slowly, I took baby out of his car seat and nursed him in the front seat, and the kids were quiet (for once!), taking it all in.
Eventually, we wound our way south and uphill toward the Ingalls claim. It was closed, as so many things were on this trip, but we got out anyway and walked much of the 160 acres that had ten outbuildings. In Laura season (May - Oct) the place is swarming with visitors, functioning as a living history museum. We missed out on all that, but quiet reflection is more my style anyway. We walked from building to building, peeking inside the windows. We climbed a lookout post that gave a birds' eye view of the Ingalls land, and I imagined Manly's horses dashing around the corner of Perry's livery to pick Laura up for their drives.
Eventually, we wound our way south and uphill toward the Ingalls claim. It was closed, as so many things were on this trip, but we got out anyway and walked much of the 160 acres that had ten outbuildings. In Laura season (May - Oct) the place is swarming with visitors, functioning as a living history museum. We missed out on all that, but quiet reflection is more my style anyway. We walked from building to building, peeking inside the windows. We climbed a lookout post that gave a birds' eye view of the Ingalls land, and I imagined Manly's horses dashing around the corner of Perry's livery to pick Laura up for their drives.
The kids enjoyed this old-timey merry go round...
and the other buildings were a 2 story horse barn complete with a stagecoach...
But there's more! A sod-roofed dugout, such as it looked at Plum Creek back in the day, with a battery operated lantern inside! It shone the light on what must have been a dark, depressing space at times. Here the kids are reacting the way Ma did when told she had to live in a house under the ground for the winter:
Next, a sod roofed barn replica where a cat jumped out at Trey and me. Ma's chickens and the cow Laura loved to milk each morning would have resided there.
Ingalls homestead, looking southwest. Sod barn in foreground.
And lastly, another replica of the shanty, but with the two rooms Pa later built onto it attached.The shanty boasted a braided rug making station, where the kids all made a teeny braided rug, and little rocking chairs for kids to sit, as well as "Mary's" rocking chair, a whatnot, table and chairs, a larger cook stove, shelves, and TWO bedrooms! I can see why during the time of These Happy Golden Years,the Ingalls finally stayed on the farm a whole winter, because it felt like a true home with its bright new rooms. Josie had fun sweeping the floor with the broom left there, and Joe and I admired the pipe organ meant to replicate the one Pa and Laura bought as a surprise for Mary's coming home from the blind school.
This of the exterior:
A one room schoolhouse sat at the southernmost edge of the property, and was also unlocked. Inside we sat at the desks and the kids tested out the ruler, slates and pencils, and I admired the books next to "teacher's" desk. Actually the school looked like it hadn't been out of use for long. Perhaps the late 1960's? I don't know - I didn't read all the displays.
All in all, we ended up spending three hours at the Ingalls' homestead! Of all the home sites we visited on this trip, I think this was the most memorable for us as a family.
The early morning rain had shifted to sun by afternoon as we left the homestead, but the winds hadn't died down at all. Being from northern Michigan, where the topography is all trees, rolling hills, and lakes, we continued to marvel at this. Joe had checked out the Kingsbury County Country Club earlier, but we headed back there so he could play 9 holes with Lucy and Trey - against the wind, of course. The rest of us finished the self-guided tour, though without Joe's help I really didn't do too well; however, I think I found the sites where the Boast and Loftus families had lived on Second Street. I failed to find the big dark house Rose describes that the three Wilders lived in on Fourth Street, post-house burning/diphtheria/paralization and pre-Missouri. (At the tour the next day, we learned that the house still stands, so I probably looked right at it and didn't even know it).
It was time for dinner but the famed Oxbow Restaurant was closed, so we ate at Subway and headed back to the hotel for swimming,etc. We drove about 45 miles that day, in and around De Smet. It was an exhilarating, peaceful, emotional and magnificent day I will never forget.
