In the 1830s, Missouri was the wild west. Rev. Daniel Butrick makes reference to it being “barren land.” There weren’t really many towns, and houses were few and far between. I guess that this was a mixed blessing for the Cherokee. It probably meant that there were fewer opportunities for the locals to stir up trouble, but there were probably fewer places to find provisions and supplies.
Missouri is also easier terrain to traverse than Tennessee or Kentucky since it has rolling hills rather than mountains. For the Taylor and Hildebrande detachments, they traveled through Missouri in March, meaning that the weather was more amenable to the journey as well.
Between the barren landscape and the easier goings, there are far fewer Trail of Tears landmarks in Missouri than other states, which is a bit weird when you consider that more miles were covered in Missouri than the other states.
On my journey from Steelville to St James, I found two of the sites, the Snelson-Brinker House and the Meramac Springs. I’ve looked up both of these sites and found little information about them, except that Mary, the Snelson’s slave, was the first person executed for murder in the state of Missouri. So, these were the kind of people that housed the missionaries and supported the Cherokee across Missouri.
Meramac Springs was sacred. Although I’m not certain that the Cherokee passed through here (although it is listed on the Trail of Tears NPS website), there was clearly something special about smelling the cooling air of the springs, witnessing their clear blue waters, watching the fish being raised by the hatchery there, and enjoying the morning with no-one else at the spring. My morning prayer session here was rejuvenating and helped me to renew my journey’s purpose.
I really struggled with the ride between St Thomas and Rolla. Although it was mostly flat, my body rejected the idea of moving and a strong head wind wore out any remaining gumption that I had left. I collapsed at a sweet little lunch spot in Rolla, called “Take a hike”, where I had the best lemonade of my whole journey. Kudos to Robert and Kaya, sweet caring people. I hope that Kaya gets to walk the Trail of Tears someday to honor her ancestors. Kaya was yet another stranger that I met along the way that was in some way connected to the Trail of Tears.
My afternoon consisted of more biking and the most “Umerican” thing of the journey to date, Uranus, Missouri, where, get this, they advertise that the best fudge comes from Uranus!
Atone The Removal 