The Illinois country
August 26, 2009

We start our morning by driving all over the back of beyond seeking the Illinois Caverns State Natural Area. A sign got us started on this quest after Chris saw it on the map - just off the highway, he said. The highway is really no such thing and the convoluted route we followed was even less. Some time later, we arrive at our first destination to find that this is not one of its open days. It appears to be a do-it-yourself affair; we will likely return with flashlights to check it out.

As we drive by a farmer setting out for his day on his John Deere, I am reminded of my tractor-driving days - not much of a way to make a living, but sometimes, like now, I sorely miss my days of solitary disking, furrowing or raking hay while cogitating on the state of the world. I wrote several mental books during that time.

We saw a flock of cattle egrets wandering the grassy pasture of a farm nursery.

We have been wonderfully blessed with fabulous weather of late - perfect days, cool nights, no air conditioning required. In fact, it has stayed cool enough that I have not been tempted to go swimming. Yesterday reversed that and got up to the low 90s. Still tolerable because of low humidity, it took longer to cool off in the evening but finally got there. This would be good swimming weather at last, but I find it difficult to cut into other activities to jump into the pool anyway.

While at rest last night, the thought flitted through my mind that I wrote in a previous blog about spotting ring-necked gulls, of which there is no such thing, when I meant to say ring-billed. Magically, I was able to fix it in the blog, but thought I should mention my fingers doing the stumbling.

I just got a lecture about Karst topography as Chris’ brain was working along trying to explain the country we’re driving through (we have taken a alternate route on our way to St. Genevieve - random roads call to us). We have come up to the Mississippi River bluffs once again, but this region is substantially different. There are sinks everywhere, not of the kitchen variety. Chris characterizes it as cratered and so it is to a great degree. Narrow winding road wandering through thick shady forest, large sinkholes pockmarking the landscape, many filled with water. That guy sitting next to me who knows just about everything explains that the evaporation rate here is slower than the precipitation rate; therefore, keeping a pond filled with water is not an issue. Nature takes care of it, unlike in Arizona.

Suddenly, we come to the edge of the bluffs and look out at the hazy flood plain with the cliffs on the opposite side of the muddy Mississippi’s bottomland rising maybe ten miles away. A short drive along the base of the bluffs brings us to Fort de Chartres. Well no, not really. It wasn’t quite that easy except in our thoughts, although we did eventually find it.

In the meantime, as we traversed the base of the cliffs, we came upon an extensive Martin Marietta mining operation that has bored gigantic caverns into the rock face to extract limestone. They were numerous enough to give the impression that the hills are honeycombed. I saw one shaft that dwarfed the mine buildings and power poles. They must extend long distances back in there.

Levees, Fort de Chartres . . .

After a little chitchat with some helpful fellers in another pickup, we were pointed toward Fort de Chartres, a reconstruction of the third iteration. The original went up in 1716. Since that time, the Mississippi has covered the area a number of times and has currently moved about a mile away. We saw a photo of the historic site completely submerged except for the roofs in 1993, long after the levee system was in place.

Everything here is bounded by levees, even small or dry (as if anything here is dry) streams. Otherwise, even though the levees on the big river might prevent its spilling across the countryside, flood waters could back up into the tributaries and effect the same damage.

Fort de Chartres is an interesting place even though the powder magazine is the only remaining original structure. The exhibits relate a good history, beginning with the French explorers in 1673 all the way through to the current rendezvous celebrations that are held there now. Part of the outer wall and some interior structures have been impressively reconstructed.

We learned much from very helpful and knowledgeable curator Dennis, in addition to finding out that the Illinois Caverns is a gigantic system with many miles of underground rooms. That will be a fun explore. He suggested a resource book called "Kaskaskia under the French Regime" that I'd like to get.

Modoc ferry, St. Genevieve . . .

Back at the Modoc ferry, Chris asked what this type of boat is called. We didn't find out a name, but it turns out the gate-opener’s boss is the one who developed this boat, same as the one we rode on the Illinois River last year. It’s pretty ingenious how the pilot boat pivots out away from the platform, attached only by a metal hinged arm, turns to face the opposite direction and snugs up against the platform in a different spot. The gatekeeper remembered us, but then how many white pickup/camper combos topped by two purple kayaks does he see in the course of a couple of days.

At long last we wended our way back to St. Genevieve, an absolutely charming place with so much more to do than we had time for. The first site of the town was settled by the French in the 1740s, an important part of the Illinois country - 17th century southern Illinois. When I was perusing ancient deeds in the Randolph County courthouse, I saw properties all described as part of the Illinois country, just as we would refer to a county and state now.

What an absolutely lovely afternoon we enjoyed in St. Genevieve. We toured the 1785 Bolduc house and its next-door neighbor, the 1820 Bolduc-LeMeilleur house. Our tour guide lives in a 1787 residence. With degrees in history, he was very knowledgeable and able to answer all our questions.

We visited the Church of St. Genevieve, founded in 1759 - awesome in scope and beauty!

Walking off a great lunch from The Anvil Saloon and Restaurant, we stopped to photograph the first brick house constructed west of the Mississippi - 1785 - and step into perhaps the most cluttered shop I’ve ever seen, filled to the brim with antiques and collectibles, the operative word being “filled”. As I clutched at my purse and camera to minimize the chance of objects swinging into shelves, we edged our way between shelves scooting our feet to avoid putting down a clodhopper on an item for sale. The proprietor said he tries to stock something for everyone . . . I think he was successful. I found a charming green Depression glass sherbet dish that matches my collection, and forced Chris to purchase two old books of music, all at very reasonable prices.

Next stop was the St. Genevieve Winery, housed in a 100-year-old house, a mere pup among these venerable establishments, but very nice nevertheless. Cute decor, very amiable shopkeeper, Dina, who walked me through several free tastings of their very nice wines. Dina and everyone else we have met in this territory are just as delightful as they can be. We feel welcome and right at home, as if we are meeting old friends.

One more house tour to fit in before shutters are pulled closed: the 1818 home and merchant shop of Felix & Odile Pratte Valle. The guide at that State historic site is Donna, as affable and accommodating as all the rest. Again, we have a private tour, one that includes some getting-to-know-each-other talk. A professional archaeologist, she has participated in excavation at the site, and obviously has a proprietary concern for the property, in addition to an excellent understanding of the era. Missing my home gardens, I enjoyed a look at her sweet herb plot and a bit of talk about it. She generously let us cut a couple of basil stalks, so Chris shared Peg’s basil gimlet recipe with her (sorry, Shirley, I’ll send the recipe tonight maybe).

Hyacinth bean, mural . . .

A common vine I’ve seen here is called a hyacinth bean - very striking dark leaves with fuchsia stems, beautiful purple stalked flowers and bean pods. Will have to look into it for home, just what I need - more plantings. I also enjoyed a mural on the side of a building depicting early days in the area.

The afternoon was waning as we strolled the historic streets back to the Toter. The humidity has jumped up like a drop of water on a sizzling skillet and the temperature right along with it. We found respite in some buildings, but otherwise survived pretty well out in it. We did scuttle for shade whenever it was available, though.

Blog feedback . . .

Pretty sad that I have been doing a blog and didn’t even know the origin of the word - just found out it's a shortened version of web log. But then, there are plenty of other words these days whose meaning is completely lost on me.

How fun - Donna back in Chino Valley obtained “Widow of the South” and read it with me. She also recommends “These Is My Words” which I read a few years ago on Katie’s recommendation and enjoyed. And Leslie finished “Time Travelers Wife” that she says is good but not as good as “1000 White Women”. Good grief, the tomes are piling up whilst I’m out running around.

More fun - As soon as Katie read my blog post about ancestor Augustus Sherwood working on the whaling ship, Vesper, she popped right up with names of the entire ship’s crew - amazing. Beth sent a solution to the ant infestation; Eva's chiming in about the soybean spraying, and lots of others are having a great travel right along with us - thanks all!

I had to laugh at one of the comments replying to my blog entry about the endless mowing hereabouts. While on a trip to North Carolina, Jon wondered aloud how folks find time even to reproduce considering that they must be cutting grass constantly.