We left Branson headed for the Apple Festival in Versailles, a small town 40 some miles away, up a long a twisting “highway”. It was a two-lane road that wound around Lake of the Ozarks, before aiming northwest. The entire route was an alternation of small villages and empty forest, but in such proximity that the speed limit switched from 55 to 35 constantly. It began to rain. We began to rethink the festival. Versailles, when we got there, had cars parked along the side of the road well out of town. There were no signs indicating parking lots, activity direction, or even port-a-potties, which I was in dire need of. The gods of bladder relief guided me to a Sonic across the highway. Relieved and refueled, lemonades and chicken nuggets, we decided to make our way back to St. Louis.

It was still early enough that we decided to pass through St. Louis on into Illinois and the Cahokia Indian Mounds.  The site was impressive, though many of the mounds had been destroyed by early settlers and some rather inept archeologists. Cahokia was a city of native Americans, they are referred to as the Mississippian Culture currently. Nearly a 1000 years ago they had a city of nearly 10,000 people, who built mounds for housing and religious purposes. They also had a pole version of Stonehenge, used to calculate time. I had heard of the mounds in brief reference but was totally ignorant of the scope of the development. Like the Anasazi of the Southwest, the culture disappeared for reasons not known.

As is often the case in our travels, the day had its disappointments and surprises. Seeing the Ozark country reminded us that we live in a big, and very rural country. Yet, the Mounds, which one would expect to be a rural site are bordered by industrial sites, manufactories, and suburban development. We are a land of paradox.

The hotel was where we left it two weeks ago and, we settled in, looking forward to a day of rest before more travels.

Blessings.  

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