I had no idea where we were going. I simply followed my husband’s instructions to be packed and ready to leave by 9 a.m. with a change of “touristtype” clothing, my toothbrush and my camera, with batteries fully charged.
I was really curious, naturally, and asked enough questions that he divulged two other hints of information. We wouldn’t be traveling through Fayetteville and we wouldn’t be visiting relatives. That still left lots of possibilities.
So, we set out on this little mystery trip he had planned for us. We headed north up highway 59. I rode along trying to anticipate what the next couple of days might hold while he sat smiling behind the wheel like a opossum with a secret.
We traveled the scenic route along the Elk River and beneath the overhanging bluffs near Noel, Mo. When we reached Anderson, my driver turned west and then, before long, north again. We rolled along a wavy rural highway that dipped sharply into valleys, then rose quickly to crest hilltops like camels’ humps. We passed farmers on tractors and fields dotted with bales of hay. It was a relatively cool summer morning, which made our meandering drive through the county side even nicer.
Before long, we entered Seneca, Mo., a town that I remembered having been to a couple of times before. We stopped and dawdled there awhile at the Picket Fence flea market.
With new “treasures” in hand, we then continueddown the road to our unknown (at least to me) destination. Turning west from there, we soon entered Oklahoma, “our third state for the morning,” my husband cheerfully pointed out as though seeking affirmation that he was “really taking me places.”
We road for a while without making any more stops. We made another turn north and traveled through Picher. This anything-but-pretty town became contaminated from mining and is now deserted. Still we pulled over momentarily so I could take a few snapshots of the place whose fateful plight I had heard about on television.
As our road trip continued, we entered into Kansas. “Our forth state of the day,” my husband announced with exaggerated self-satisfaction and a smile flashed my way.
He attended training classes in Pittsburg last year and said he wanted to show me around this college town. In addition to alittle sight seeing and having lunch, we also stopped at a local plant nursery.
Bringing home new plants is one of our favorite mementos when we travel. Even though it is late in the planting season, we exercised our optimism and bought two things for my flower garden back at home.
By this point, I was beginning to suspect we might be headed to Fort Scott and I was hoping I was right. We briefly visited this town a couple of times in the past but never got to explore all I wanted. We talked about going back to look around some more. I was glad he remembered.
Fort Scott is a historic area that was once a hub of activity, with seven railroad lines converging there. Nowadays only two railroads remain, but there is still plenty to see and do in this place where the past and the present blend charmingly.
The downtown area has a delightful “old west” feel with brick streets and vibrant Victorian storefronts. Many attractively-restored and well-kept buildings now contain unique shops, flea markets and other businesses.
As we strolled through the downtown area that evening, the atmosphere was enhanced by hanging baskets of flowers being swarmed by butterflies, and by music from bygone days floating through the air.
The next morning we visited the Fort Scott National Historic Site located at one end of town. The site consists of various structures that depict the history and growing pains of a young nation. The fort was first established in 1842 and served as a military base along the lines that marked the Indian frontier. It takes about an hour and a half to visit the buildings and watch the short film. One ofmy favorite parts of the site was the trail through a five acre tall-grass prairie jampacked with wildflowers.
Although not a long walk, it takes a while when youstop, like I did, to snap a picture of everything that happens to be in bloom. To complete my prairie wildflower excursion, I purchased a guidebook at the park’s gift shop to help identify the flowers in my photos once I got back home.
At 125 miles from home, Fort Scott is a little farther that most places I have written about this year. The drive takes about twoand-a half hours if you don’t meander as much as we did. However, as long as driving conditions are good, it is a pleasant drive and makes a fun day trip or an overnight getaway.
Some say that life is more about the journey than the destination, but when my husband plans one of his mystery trips, then it really is about both.
Annette Rowe is a freelance writer and a speechlanguage pathologist at Siloam Springs High School. She may be reached by e-mail at awalkinthepark50 @ yahoo.com.
Opinion, Pages 5 on 07/21/2010