Starting down county gravel (260th Street) evokes many memories. It’s gravel so you hear the roar of the road under the car and hear an occasional piece of gravel kick up and hit the under belly of the car. A cloud of dusk chases us down the road.
It’s not long before we go down a hill. There are woods on both sides of the road here. I have been in them many times while hunting. The old right of way for the K-line passes right through the middle, crosses the road and heads south towards Denova. Dad talks about the K-line as we pass. He misses the days of the old railroad and the steam driven locomotives.
About a mile down the road we come to Gibson Park. It is named after Isaac Gibson who lived there. He was an early Quaker reformer in the 1870s who was involved in starting the Bureau of Indian Affairs, orphan homes and White’s Institute.
This park area has been a special place for our family. I am not sure why but we seem to be drawn to this area. It is the place where bugs walk on water. My mother and father took our girls here several times when they were young and the girls were fascinated with the bugs that could walk on the surface of the water. That was in a small stream on the south side of the park.
The streambed is full of fossils from the Mississippian bedrock that is exposed at the surface here. It is the only place in Southeast Iowa that this is the case and one of the few places in Iowa. It is listed in the Iowa Geological Survey. My father was, no doubt hunting fossils there when they took our daughters there. I took my student fossil hunting there, too. On the north side of the road in the park there is a shelter and a large mowed area up to the oxbow lake.
This is where we had our annua fourth grade outdoor day while I was a teacher. Both Mom and Dad were often part of the program that led small groups on adventures. Dad shared his arrowheads and Mom her apple dolls or she took the kids on bird walks in the woods. The kids would pack a lunch and spend the entire day out here.
I also took summer science students fishing here because there was easy and safe access to the water. The county re-channeled Big Cedar here, moving the main channel west of here and leaving a small lake where Big Creek used to be.
Leaving the mowed area of the park we can go back the way we came on 260th Street, go south on the road (Clayton Avenue) that crosses the creek where bugs walk on water, or we can head west. A few hundred yards down the road west is the new bridge over the newer channel of Big Creek. I think this work was done in the 1950s. I am not sure why, but I suspect it was because the area often flooded and was impassible in high water.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Sunday, September 21, 2008
SW Rides VI
But lets back up. Today we don’t go straight when we get to Franklin. We turn left and head up the hill. The old way up the hill from the wagon bridge is still there. It was part of the Red Ball Route. It was a highway that passed through the county years ago. Big red circles along the road marked the route. About half the way up on the concrete barrier Dad repainted the red ball. He did it several other places in the county just as a way of recognizing the old route. Once when he could no longer walk so well he had me walk up the hill to see if his handy work was still there. It was and I imagine it still is. Walk up behind the shelter house near the south end or the dam and you’ll see the old road. Follow it up the hill. This is the way we went to Grandpa’s before the new bridge was built. About half way up on the left you will see the red ball. The old road is called Nature Center Drive because it leads up the hill to that place.
Most people take the newer road, Franklin, up the hill and turn left on Fremont and then left again on Nature Center Drive. If you turn right you go into the upper part of the park. Going straight takes you down the hill past the red ball sign and to the old bridge. Turning left a short ways down takes you to the old cemetery. It is a very interesting place to visit. My cousin, Terry, is buried there. He would have loved it!
The nature center is on the way into the park. It is a great facility! Mom and Dad volunteered there many Sunday afternoon greeting visitors. It has recently been remodeled and cousin, Steve Mendenhall, did the beautiful mural inside.
This park might be one of Henry County’s best-kept secrets. There are some seldom-used campsites there. I camped there as a scout several times and explored the steep bluff with family and friends. I remember an old well at the top of the hill near the parking lot. We used to pump the water out and drink it. It was fresh and cool!
One loop through the park and we head back out towards Franklin. On the way Dad talks about the Red Ball Route that came up the hill on the old road which is just a overgrown path now used by park staff.
At Franklin we turn left, south, towards Salem. We go past the Oldt farm on the right and the Mertins place on the right. After a short distance we turn right on County Highway H46. I am not sure why they call these gravel roads highways but they do.
Gibson Park is a couple miles down this road. I have been all over this territory hunting deer and at one time or another I think Dad and I have stepped on almost every inch of this ground.
Most people take the newer road, Franklin, up the hill and turn left on Fremont and then left again on Nature Center Drive. If you turn right you go into the upper part of the park. Going straight takes you down the hill past the red ball sign and to the old bridge. Turning left a short ways down takes you to the old cemetery. It is a very interesting place to visit. My cousin, Terry, is buried there. He would have loved it!
The nature center is on the way into the park. It is a great facility! Mom and Dad volunteered there many Sunday afternoon greeting visitors. It has recently been remodeled and cousin, Steve Mendenhall, did the beautiful mural inside.
This park might be one of Henry County’s best-kept secrets. There are some seldom-used campsites there. I camped there as a scout several times and explored the steep bluff with family and friends. I remember an old well at the top of the hill near the parking lot. We used to pump the water out and drink it. It was fresh and cool!
One loop through the park and we head back out towards Franklin. On the way Dad talks about the Red Ball Route that came up the hill on the old road which is just a overgrown path now used by park staff.
At Franklin we turn left, south, towards Salem. We go past the Oldt farm on the right and the Mertins place on the right. After a short distance we turn right on County Highway H46. I am not sure why they call these gravel roads highways but they do.
Gibson Park is a couple miles down this road. I have been all over this territory hunting deer and at one time or another I think Dad and I have stepped on almost every inch of this ground.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
SW Rides V
Oakland Mills had a gristmill, woolen mill, sawmill, and a river ford. It is the location of one of Iowa’s first state parks and is a popular camping area. It is even to this day known far and wide as a great place to catch catfish. My grandfather fished there regularly and I did, too. The present Oakland Mills dam was built in the 20s and the powerhouse used to be on the south side of the river.
There is a marker where the Oakland Mills store used to be. I remember it but think it was torn down after the flood of 1963. Dad was instrumental in having a marker placed there. You can see it today if you go to visit.
On the West side of County Highway H46 (Franklin Avenue) is another area we often drive through. There is a campground and boat ramp there. When we have canoed down the river this is typically where we got out. For years there was a center pier from the old railroad bridge out in the middle of the river. It is gone now.
Today, on the west end of the campground there is an observation tower built in memory of my cousin and dear friend, Terry Ross. Terry developed the wetlands up stream from there and you get a beautiful view. Up on the platform level of that tower is a comfortable bench with a marker in memory of my father. He would have loved it. Terry died too young, 53, in the spring of 2001 and Dad died at age 93 late that fall.
We make a pass through the campground and then back out to the road and then turn right and head across the bridge. On the other side we turn left and head for the area by the dam. There is parking there and we sometimes get out and walk up and talk to the fellows fishing off the dam. We have fished here many times. I wrote about fishing on the pier that extends out from the dam one time. We have also fished along the bank below the dam.
When we get back to Franklin Avenue we can go straight on 255 St. to 250 St. If we go that way we would come to Pleasant Point. Not much there but a church and a building that used to be a dairy. If we turn right at the T we could go by the old Wilson Place that has an Indian Mound overlooking the river, then on past the old maids place and on down to where Ketchem’s bridge crossed the river. The bridge has been closed for years.
If we turn left at Pleasant Point we could take 250th St. to Clayton Avenue and then follow it around past Red Lynn’s place down across Big Cedar and out to Highway 34. I have hunted and fished the Pleasant Point area many times.
Instead of taking Clayton we could stay on 250th Street and go by the Rockwell farm. Ron Marshall and I used to hunt rabbits there every fall. Dad and I hunted arrowheads in the fields there and we put canoes in Big Creek several times for floats to the Skunk or on down to Oakland.
There is a marker where the Oakland Mills store used to be. I remember it but think it was torn down after the flood of 1963. Dad was instrumental in having a marker placed there. You can see it today if you go to visit.
On the West side of County Highway H46 (Franklin Avenue) is another area we often drive through. There is a campground and boat ramp there. When we have canoed down the river this is typically where we got out. For years there was a center pier from the old railroad bridge out in the middle of the river. It is gone now.
Today, on the west end of the campground there is an observation tower built in memory of my cousin and dear friend, Terry Ross. Terry developed the wetlands up stream from there and you get a beautiful view. Up on the platform level of that tower is a comfortable bench with a marker in memory of my father. He would have loved it. Terry died too young, 53, in the spring of 2001 and Dad died at age 93 late that fall.
We make a pass through the campground and then back out to the road and then turn right and head across the bridge. On the other side we turn left and head for the area by the dam. There is parking there and we sometimes get out and walk up and talk to the fellows fishing off the dam. We have fished here many times. I wrote about fishing on the pier that extends out from the dam one time. We have also fished along the bank below the dam.
When we get back to Franklin Avenue we can go straight on 255 St. to 250 St. If we go that way we would come to Pleasant Point. Not much there but a church and a building that used to be a dairy. If we turn right at the T we could go by the old Wilson Place that has an Indian Mound overlooking the river, then on past the old maids place and on down to where Ketchem’s bridge crossed the river. The bridge has been closed for years.
If we turn left at Pleasant Point we could take 250th St. to Clayton Avenue and then follow it around past Red Lynn’s place down across Big Cedar and out to Highway 34. I have hunted and fished the Pleasant Point area many times.
Instead of taking Clayton we could stay on 250th Street and go by the Rockwell farm. Ron Marshall and I used to hunt rabbits there every fall. Dad and I hunted arrowheads in the fields there and we put canoes in Big Creek several times for floats to the Skunk or on down to Oakland.
Sunday, September 07, 2008
SW Rides IV
Oh, Oakland Mills! The stories you could tell! Early on I think people tended to settle along rivers and streams. Fresh water was, of course, important as well as the fish being a good source for food and the river, itself, a mode of transportation. The river was called Chicaqua at that time. I kind of wish the name had never been changed.
There was a natural ford at the location and many people passing through the area used it to get across the river. A few folks must have settled in the area. There was a horse-powered gristmill in the area owned by Mr. Wilbourne. The exact location is not known.
The oak trees must have been magnificent! They probably covered the entire valley. There weren’t any roads. Trails cut through the timber and there were places where it was difficult to get a wagon through. The areas that did not have trees were covered with tall grasses. The grasses were often so tall that being on horseback was the only way you could see what was ahead.
Another early settler was a dam builder whose name was Robert Wilson. He was from Indiana. Historical records say he was a professional dam builder. I can only assume that means that he had a lot of experience. He built a sawmill on the south side of the river at Oakland in 1836 or 37. In 1838 he started work on the log and stone dam. He built a four-story gristmill at the opposite end of the dam on the north side of the river.
In those days there was an interesting law about grinding grain in the order in which people arrived at the mill. It was to prevent someone from bumping in line. The miller could be fined up to 5 dollars for grinding the grain out of order. There must have been some interesting stories that precipitated that law.
By the time of the Civil War a woolen mill was built on the south side of the river. It employed up to twelve people. The two-story building had carding rolls and spinning frames on the second floor and weaving looms on the first floor. I suppose some of the product was sold locally and the rest sent off to be sold in other places.
A licensed ferry was established at Oakland Mills in 1837. It cost 25 cents for a horse and rider to cross. It cost twelve and one-half cents to take a pig across and twenty-five to seventy-five cents to take a wagon across. Today it is hard to imagine waiting for a man and his pig to cross so you can have your turn. Could be kind of messy, too.
Houses sprung up around this small community and a school and church were established nearby. Oakland Mills became a community. It still is a unique place that draws many visitors year round. I seem to be drawn to that place, too, and visit it often when I am in the area.
There was a natural ford at the location and many people passing through the area used it to get across the river. A few folks must have settled in the area. There was a horse-powered gristmill in the area owned by Mr. Wilbourne. The exact location is not known.
The oak trees must have been magnificent! They probably covered the entire valley. There weren’t any roads. Trails cut through the timber and there were places where it was difficult to get a wagon through. The areas that did not have trees were covered with tall grasses. The grasses were often so tall that being on horseback was the only way you could see what was ahead.
Another early settler was a dam builder whose name was Robert Wilson. He was from Indiana. Historical records say he was a professional dam builder. I can only assume that means that he had a lot of experience. He built a sawmill on the south side of the river at Oakland in 1836 or 37. In 1838 he started work on the log and stone dam. He built a four-story gristmill at the opposite end of the dam on the north side of the river.
In those days there was an interesting law about grinding grain in the order in which people arrived at the mill. It was to prevent someone from bumping in line. The miller could be fined up to 5 dollars for grinding the grain out of order. There must have been some interesting stories that precipitated that law.
By the time of the Civil War a woolen mill was built on the south side of the river. It employed up to twelve people. The two-story building had carding rolls and spinning frames on the second floor and weaving looms on the first floor. I suppose some of the product was sold locally and the rest sent off to be sold in other places.
A licensed ferry was established at Oakland Mills in 1837. It cost 25 cents for a horse and rider to cross. It cost twelve and one-half cents to take a pig across and twenty-five to seventy-five cents to take a wagon across. Today it is hard to imagine waiting for a man and his pig to cross so you can have your turn. Could be kind of messy, too.
Houses sprung up around this small community and a school and church were established nearby. Oakland Mills became a community. It still is a unique place that draws many visitors year round. I seem to be drawn to that place, too, and visit it often when I am in the area.
Monday, September 01, 2008
SW Rides III
It is beautiful here and the road runs parallel to river all the way to Oakland Mills. I have placed bank poles along this stretch of the river when it is rising to catch catfish. Down the road a ways is an opening on the right with four or five cabins.
Included in the group is one large white one with a sign on it that says Mt. Pleasant Country Club. In the hundreds of times I have driven by this cabin I have never seen anyone here. Dad says some groups come down and play cards there but I have never seen them.
We pass Gholson’s cabin and then Welander’s. I used to be part of a group that had dinner there once a month. We took turns being responsible for the cooking and played cards after the meal. It was usually a good time.
We come to the point where the other dirt Skunk River Road (253rd Street) intersects with the one we are on. We pass the lane that leads to some cabins on the left. One is the old cabin that belonged to Dr. Jackson. I visited it with Billy several times when I was growing up.
On the right back up a long lane through a cornfield is the Virden house. Dad knew the Virdens well and sometimes we stopped there to visit. In the distance we can see the Oakland Mills Road that we turned off of to take Hickory Avenue.
For years there was a maple syrup cooking house out in the middle of the cornfield and west of the house. It was just really a shelter with a roof but no walls. It was where they cooked the maple sap down to make the syrup. I don’t know much about the process and usually think of it as something that happens out east but Dad says it used to be quite common around here.
We follow the road towards Oakland. The closer we get to the little community the more cabins we see. Some are pretty primitive and some are year around homes. The area floods when the river is high every five or ten years but the people seem to always come back, drawn to the water I guess.
The dam is coming up on the left. In low water times we have scoured the rocks just below the dam for fossils. Other times we have fished here. I have seen the water so low that you could walk on the dam and not get wet. I have also seen it so high that you could hardly tell the dam was even there.
At one time Oakland Mills had a railroad depot on the K-line. I am not exactly sure where that was but think it was on the north side of Oakland Mills road somewhere. The wagon bridge at Oakland was nominated for the national register and continues to be a footbridge to this day. I remember going across in a car many times when I was growing up. A modern bridge was built west of it in the early 60s.
Included in the group is one large white one with a sign on it that says Mt. Pleasant Country Club. In the hundreds of times I have driven by this cabin I have never seen anyone here. Dad says some groups come down and play cards there but I have never seen them.
We pass Gholson’s cabin and then Welander’s. I used to be part of a group that had dinner there once a month. We took turns being responsible for the cooking and played cards after the meal. It was usually a good time.
We come to the point where the other dirt Skunk River Road (253rd Street) intersects with the one we are on. We pass the lane that leads to some cabins on the left. One is the old cabin that belonged to Dr. Jackson. I visited it with Billy several times when I was growing up.
On the right back up a long lane through a cornfield is the Virden house. Dad knew the Virdens well and sometimes we stopped there to visit. In the distance we can see the Oakland Mills Road that we turned off of to take Hickory Avenue.
For years there was a maple syrup cooking house out in the middle of the cornfield and west of the house. It was just really a shelter with a roof but no walls. It was where they cooked the maple sap down to make the syrup. I don’t know much about the process and usually think of it as something that happens out east but Dad says it used to be quite common around here.
We follow the road towards Oakland. The closer we get to the little community the more cabins we see. Some are pretty primitive and some are year around homes. The area floods when the river is high every five or ten years but the people seem to always come back, drawn to the water I guess.
The dam is coming up on the left. In low water times we have scoured the rocks just below the dam for fossils. Other times we have fished here. I have seen the water so low that you could walk on the dam and not get wet. I have also seen it so high that you could hardly tell the dam was even there.
At one time Oakland Mills had a railroad depot on the K-line. I am not exactly sure where that was but think it was on the north side of Oakland Mills road somewhere. The wagon bridge at Oakland was nominated for the national register and continues to be a footbridge to this day. I remember going across in a car many times when I was growing up. A modern bridge was built west of it in the early 60s.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)