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    Saturday the 26th was to be a short drive, but I still got an early 

start. I had to get around Kansas City (and Kansas City, there's one in 

Kansas, too) before the Saturday working corporate drones clogged the 

freeways. The day's route would take me from Missouri to Kansas (briefly), 

back to Missouri to Iowa and finally into Nebraska outside of Omaha. I was 

still on the trail of Lewis and Clark following the Missouri River and 

heading for a meeting with Mini owner Frank Grover.



    I drove from St. Louis to the Kansas City area in less than one day. The 

Corp of Discovery left the St. Louis area on May 14, 1804. They didn't arrive 

in what is now the Kansas City area until about June 25th. After figuring 

that out, I complained a little less about one day driving EG in the heat. It 

could have been worse. I could have been dragging the Discovery or one of the 

pirogues up the Missouri for 6 weeks. The pirogues were very big canoes, but 

they were small next to the big keelboat, Discovery. Fifty-five feet long, 

8-foot beam, drawing 4 feet of water, a 32 foot mast that could be lowered, 

space for 22 rowers, a raised rear deck, three mounted guns, and space to 

store thousands of pounds of supplies. Imagine rowing or dragging that thing 

against the Missouri's current.



    Also, I was in much better shape than most of the Corp of Discovery. The 

expedition made sure it took along plenty of brandy, but they drank river 

water which at this point "contains half a Comn Wine Glass of ooze or mud to 

every pint." Understandably, many of the men were suffering from dysentery. 

On top of that about two-thirds of them were suffering from boils and 

ulcer-like sores. The main problem was diet. There were little fruit or 

vegetables eaten and the jerky they had was probably bacteria contaminated. 

Of course all the mosquito, tick and fly bites, many infected, didn't help. 

Mosquitoes showed up as complaints in the journals again and again. OK. I can 

handle a little heat for a day or two.



    The C.O.D. spent three days in the area recovering and doing a little 

exploring. Lewis mentioned in his journal the great number of Carolina 

parakeets. I'm not sure what Carolina parakeets were doing there. Maybe 

hiding to keep from getting killed by Carolinians. Didn't do them any good. 

They are now extinct.



    I started SE of Kansas City and made a clockwise, semicircle around the 

Kansas Cities. I followed I-470 to I-435 into Kansas without seeing a State 

boundary sign. These two cities merge together so much that it is tough to 

figure out which city (or State) you are in. I-435 bent north and I followed 

it across the Kansas River and then the Missouri River back into Missouri.

Kansas was another State entered only
briefly.



    Just to keep the records straight, even though my "stay" in Kansas was 

brief, add the following to the list. Kansas covers 82,264 square miles (rank 

14), about 18% bigger than the next biggest of the 10 States entered so far, 

Missouri. That's also bigger than the combined land area of England and 

Scotland. On the other statistic, Kansas clocks in as the least populated 

State at 2.6 million or about 32 people per square mile. You're forgiven if 

you think Kansas is just one big flat plain. Lowest elevation is 680 feet 

above sea level with a peak of 4,039 feet.



    You're also forgiven if you think that Kansas is dull and a book about 

Kansas would have to be equally dull. Since you are already familiar with 

William Least Heat-Moon's 1983 book, "Blue Highways" (this is a must-read for 

road travelers), pick up his book about Kansas called, "Prairie Erth." 

(That's not a misspelling.)



    Back in Missouri I jumped off of the freeway onto Highway 45 to be able 

to get a bit closer to the Missouri River. (Missouri is an interesting State. 

Its entire eastern boundary is formed by the Mississippi River and about 1/3 

of the western boundary is formed by the Missouri River.) As usual, I found I 

was running low on fuel and managed to get into Weston to fill up. Small 

town. Small station. I'd gotten so used to the more modern pumps which allow 

you to use your credit card at the pump ("duck-a-dweeb" system a friend of 

mine calls it; i.e., you don't have to go into the store to pay the cashier), 

that I was surprised to find an old fashioned set up and even more surprised 

to find an attendant come out to pump gas. I'd already started the process 

(including adding the first third of the Gunk lead substitute), but he stayed 

around to ask the usual questions. A couple of older guys in bib overalls 

wandered out of the station house to question me as well. I didn't see any 

chewing tobacco, but I bet it was around. It also wouldn't have surprised me 

if there was a pot-bellied stove and a cracker barrel in the place.



    I continued along 45 and along the Missouri (it's just over there 

someplace) until about where 45 changes into 59 which heads back NNE towards 

St. Joseph. Just about that spot is one of many similarly named Lewis and 

Clark State Parks. Turns out there's not much historic to see and what can be 

seen has changed dramatically since L&C went through on July 4th. They 

celebrated Independence Day by shooting off the front mounted swivel gun of 

the Discovery at dawn and dusk and issuing an extra measure of whiskey to the 

men. These guys really know how to party.

EG studies the small board explaining a 

little about the Corps of Discovery's trip through this area.



    From the Park, I followed 59 into St. Joseph (which still looks like the 

river town it is) and then picked up I-29 to follow it into Iowa. Lewis and 

Clark followed much the same path, but slower and on the river. It's around 

here were one starts to notice the change in scenery. Grassland. It's the 

edge of the Great Prairie. Near where Rulo is (just across the Missouri in 

Nebraska and just above the Kansas border, Lewis and Clark court marshaled 

Pvt. Willard for lying down and sleeping while on guard duty. One hundred 

lashes, 25 each day for 4 days was the punishment. It was a different time. 

It was also not the only such punishment handed out, but the Corps of 

Discovery came together as one of the most cohesive exploration units ever.

The 11th State EG and I had visited.



    I was to meet Frank Grover (or gRover as Karl refers to him) at his 

garage in Glenwood, Iowa so I peeled east off I-29 at exit 35 and followed 

his directions. It was just into the afternoon. I'd made good time and was 

early, because the time budgeted for the Lewis and Clark Park wasn't used. I 

parked EG near a big garage with several British cars around it and was 

greeted by Frank. He showed me around his interesting and diverse collection 

of cars; including, three race-prepared British roadsters. Frank is active in 

racing circles and is a wealth of knowledge of the sport; especially, in his 

area.



    Tucked back in a dark corner was a very early imported 997 Cooper. The 

bodywork has been done and most of the parts have been gathered. The only 

question now is, "When?" Frank, like most of us, has more projects (all of 

them interesting) than one could do in a lifetime. Let's hope the Mini gets 

some attention in the near future. It will be a good one.



    Since I was early and Frank had some things to do, I suggested I could 

just sit out of his way and work on some travel notes for a while. He made an 

even better offer. The garage where he does his work is on a small farm owned 

by Edith. Edith, if I remember correctly, is 88 years young and has lived on 

the farm for over 35 years. Frank suggested I move the computer into Edith's 

kitchen (where it was cool!) and do my work there. Between enjoying the cool 

air, sipping a soda or two, working on the travel notes and talking with 

Edith, I spent a very pleasant afternoon. The only disappointment was when 

Edith first announced that it is a rare time when a guest in her kitchen 

doesn't find a fresh baked pie! My, that sounded good! There was also the 

moment of awakening. Edith reminded me a lot of my grandmother: very 

self-sufficient, born in a similar area, sunny disposition. The awakening 

came when I figured out that Edith was of my mother's generation, not my 

grandmother's. Thoughts of missed, fresh-baked pie were replaced with less 

pleasant thoughts of aging.



    Since Frank was familiar with older British cars and was active in racing 

circles I mentioned to him my problem with the unavailability of Red Line 

Lead Substitute. The problem was quickly solved. He knew that a Red Line 

distributor was located in nearby Omaha. His contact there, Judy I believe 

her name was, might be able to help. Not only that, she was a former Mini 

racer! Frank called his wife and found out she was going into Omaha that 

afternoon so he arranged with Judy to have two bottles picked up for me. Talk 

about good service! I spoke with Judy and told her my problems of finding Red 

Line anywhere in the South. Although she put it much more politely, it boils 

down to stupidity. Their product costs about $7 for 12 ounces. One ounce 

treats 10 gallons of gas. Most of the other products sold (of marginal 

capabilities, at best) are about $2.50 - $3.00 for 12 ounces, but only treat 

up to 20 gallons for the entire bottle. Pretty much a no-brainer, but what 

happens is that the fine print about how much can be treated doesn't get 

read. "Three dollars is cheaper than $7 so I'll just buy the cheaper one. 

A-yup, a-yup."



    Frank's chores done, we wandered outside for photos with EG, said goodbye 

to Edith, and then he led me to his house back across the Missouri River into 

Nebraska, just outside of Omaha and not too far from Bellevue. As we left the 

farm, he handed me a bridge token for the toll bridge that crossed the 

Missouri River. Somewhere down the road a bit, minor panic set in. RHD. Toll 

bridge. I had visions of a busy highway where I'd have to jump out and run 

around the car to pay the toll. Would the gate stay up long enough for me to 

get back in the car and get through? Would I make enemies of hoards of people 

stuck in line behind me? The bridge turned out to be no problem. It was 

relatively quiet and had a tollbooth that actually let the attendant step 

out, if necessary. I'd managed to roll down the window a crack while 

approaching the booth and used a long arm to hold the token out the left 

window. I got a big smile from the attendant as he leaned out to grab the 

token!

Frank and Edith. Two nice people in a nice corner of the
world.



    Frank's wife had the Red Line and she had cooked a great meal (home 

cooking was welcome after road food for several weeks). We ate and sat around 

discussing Minis, the Wolseley trip, car racing and a number of other topics, 

most of which revolved around four wheeled vehicles. I borrowed a phone 

connection and checked in to see what was going on in the Mini world, and 

also spent a few minutes printing out routes for the next day, while Frank 

watched a bit of the TransAm. Plans were made for the next morning. I had a 

long drive so wanted to get an early start. No problem. Frank was going to be 

up at 7:00 to watch the Formula One race. Now, that is dedication.



    Sunday morning the 26th I was on the road shortly after 7:00 saying 

goodbye to Frank and his hospitality (and leaving him watching the race). I 

was to wander back into Iowa to follow the Missouri up into South Dakota with 

the hope of making it to that State's capital, Pierre, for the night. (It's 

not "Pierre" like the French name. For some reason it is pronounced "peer" 

like in peer group. Some things we've done pretty well, like getting rid of 

all the extra letter U's in words like "colour," but I think this one is just 

down to lazy pronunciation. Go figure.)



    On the way out of the Bellevue area, I stopped for fuel and added the 2nd 

third of the substitute bottle of lead substitute. Might as well use it up 

since it's open. I also made a note to check the car out a bit tonight, time 

permitting. I'd noticed a slight change in the exhaust note and the car had 

been just a bit harder to start the past couple of days. Average fuel mileage 

was down a bit as well. Also, the blue tarp covering the items on the roof 

rack was wearing through in a couple of spots and should be replaced with one 

I'd bought way back in Knoxville.



    I pulled out of the gas station with 5,300 miles showing on the odometer. 

EG and I had covered 3,418 miles since leaving Miami.