For six days at the beginning of July, Lexi the Golden and I traveled westward from Virginia to Colorado.  We were past the half-way mark now, and after a lovely day exploring eastern and central Missouri, we were more than ready to call it a day as we approached the city of Springfield.  Clearly we had just missed a thunderstorm, and everything shimmered in the golden light of  the late afternoon.

In the week or two leading up to our trip, I had scoured the internet looking for a good camping option in that area, but nothing jumped out at me.  I’ve discovered through some trial and error, and just observation as I drive by so many places,  that my kind of campground is quiet, definitely not an RV park, and preferable in some sort of wooded area. (Think State Parks.)  No luck in Springfield.  I did, however, stumble on a site called hipcamp.com.  If you’re a seasoned camper, it’s likely not news to you, but if not, I’m happy to share this treasure!  I think it’s pretty darn cool.  Think AirBnB for camping.  That means not normal campgrounds, but as they advertise, ” . . . unique camping experiences on over 300,000 campsites, ranches, vineyards, public parks and more.”

Not really comprehending exactly what that meant when I booked “Dream Meadows Gardens” for one night, I went for it based on great reviews and a cost of a mere $10.  Turns out, we were camping on the rear end of the owner’s 12-acre plot of land.  Yup.  Basically camping in the back yard, and just us.  Ok, so I was a little put off at first, but it didn’t last.  Let me back up and set the stage a bit . . .

As I pulled off the country-ish road onto the long driveway of Dream Meadows, both sides of the lane boasted of welcoming wooden fencing and a field of wildflowers. I continued up the slight rise until I drew closer to the main part of the property and immediately felt as though I had stepped into Frances Hodgson Burnett’s Secret Garden.  In every direction, color burst forth in beds, on walls of the small barn, and in the trim of the doors and windows on the outbuildings.  Whimsical signposts and funky yard art were littered throughout the yard and beyond,  but the incredible display of perennials were the real show-stoppers.

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Homeowner Terry guided me to the back of the property where a picnic table and fire pit were at the ready.  I backed in the SUV and quickly set up the tent.  Due to the afternoon storm that had come through, everything was wet – the ground, the table, the firewood – and now of course you can add my dog to that list. She’s never as happy as when she is wet.  Though the weather was clear the rest of our stay, the overwhelming dampness never moved on – the one “yuck” of the experience.

It was such an interesting stay, and I enjoyed some time on the patio with Terry and his wife, Jean, sharing about my trip and learning a bit about them.  Hipcamp definitely lends to a bit more of a personal experience, which I have enjoyed so far.  Jean, who is a art teacher, is clearly the inspiration behind all the amazing flower beds as well as the painted murals on the barn and in her home.  Pure whimsy.  Terry contributes with his yard art, which takes many varied forms throughout the property.  It all feels a little bit reminiscent of Willy Wonka’s brightly-arrayed and quirky chocolate factory,  but think  flowers instead of chocolate!  Scrumdiddlyumptious!

[caption id="attachment_313" align="aligncenter" width="506"] Lexi took an uninvited dip into the waterfall built next to the house. Where there’s water – there’s Lexi.

As I’ve had Laura Ingalls and the Little House books on the brain lately, it seemed amazing and perfect to discover that they live in an earth contact house.  In other words, the front of it, which was a long ranch-style home, looks normal, but the entire back is built into the earth and from the rear of the yard, you’d never know there’s a home there at all.  Remember the dugout house in On the Banks of Plum Creek?  While Terry and Jean’s earth contact home was far more modern than the Ingalls’ primitive dugout, I liked the idea of the continuing connection to Laura on my trip though Missouri.  (See Journey through Missouri – Part 1 for the story of my visit to Laura and Almanzo’s Mansfield, Missouri farm.)

The photos here don’t do justice to the whole experience, but the good news is that Hipcamp makes it possible for you to pay them a visit yourself!  I love that this unique experience was part of my trip. I’ll remember it always.  I’m only sad that I didn’t take more pictures.  If you’d like more information and beautiful photos of the property, click the link to Dream Meadows.

Lexi and I set off fairly early the following day, as I determined to finish off Missouri before lunchtime and make major headway into the very long and repetitious state of Kansas.  I had no real agenda but to drive as far as Dodge City, Kansas, and do my best to stay off highways to accomplish that goal.

The best things happen when you get off the highways!  First off, I had no idea that I had stumbled onto Historic Route 66.  If you look at a map, Highway 44 is the obvious choice west from Springfield, but Route 96 was more my style – full of rolling hills, barns and farms and plenty of local patriotic flare for the Independence Day holiday.

I began seeing signs that said “Historic Byway – Missouri Route 66”.  So cool!  And so much history.  A little digging shows that this famous road, which originally went from Chicago to Los Angeles, has completely been overrun by highways now, and went off the register of official highways in 1985.

Steinbeck’s Route 66 in The Grapes of Wrath will always evoke symbols of hardship and dust, though the images that movies and songs portray later in the 20^th century tend to evoke feelings of nostalgia for the road trip.  I definitely related to the latter, which seemed perfect for my purposes!

And so I found myself meandering down modern-day 96/historic 66 in the bright weekend sunshine.  As I crested a hill, a sign and a building on my right caught my eye.  I couldn’t stop in time and so whizzed on past, but it nagged at me, so we turned around about half a mile later and came back.  These are the moments that almost always payoff.  “Slow.  Down.  Turn the car around”, I say to myself, not for the first time.  I am not on a schedule, I remind myself.  Too often I just keep going. It’s a shame but it’s true.  Hard to break those busy-girl habits, but I’m trying.

This is how I met Willie Washam at the Phelps School, which operated as a one-room schoolhouse from 1888-1952.  The building was a handsome white clapboard building, patriotic bunting hanging from the small porch.  The doors were wide open and a truck sat out front, so I parked and walked up.  I’m a sucker for historic buildings, and especially schools.  (And yes, the whole Laura Ingalls theme just keeps perpetuating!  Is this Walnut Grove???  You can’t make this stuff up!)

The Phelps one-room schoolhouse, currently in the midst of restoration. The bit of road in the bottom of the photo is actually the historic route 66.

I poked my head into the space to find an older gentleman, down on hands and knees, working on the hardwood floors.  After announcing myself, he invited me to come have a look.  He poured himself into a chair and began to hold court, providing me with a much-desired history lesson on the building itself as well as the one-room schoolhouses of the area.  I was fascinated.  This particular school is one of the few that still survives, and I believe the only one that was able to be restored.  The project was taking far longer than expected, but clearly the work was being done with great care.

The original stove of the schoolhouse

For some reason, windows were only permitted on one side of the building.

The chimney, now restored, sits in front of the new chalkboards.

The original stove and chimney still stood front and center, just in front of 12 feet of chalkboard.  Willie let me know that some of the windows panes were original as well.  They had tried to preserve as much as possible, though time and neglect had taken its toll.  Still, it wasn’t hard to imagine a room full of students of all ages, working through their McGuffy Readers, reciting math facts and poetry.  The chalkboards had just been completed, and the teacher in me wanted to run my hands over them and at least write a sentence for these long-ago students to diagram!

My new friend Willie, glad for a short break to share the history of the schools. Note the photos of one-room schoolhouse classes across the county.

But I refrained and instead looked over the wall of photos, as Willie explained that the goal was to collect a class photo from each of the many schoolhouses in the county. There were many photos framed and on display, but those in charge of the project were hopeful to track down many more.  My new friend Willie did not attend this particular school, but reported that he did go to another schoolhouse as a child.

While Willie seemed glad for the break, I could tell he was ready to get back to work.  I thanked him for the tour and the history lesson, and wished him well.  He encouraged me to come back next year to see the finished product.  I think I liked it just the way it was.

Later, I found an article from the Joplin newspaper, corroborating what I learned and providing even more detail.  Here is a photo of what the school looked like prior to its renovation this caring community.

What a wonderful and unexpected stop in our morning.  I stepped outside to my car, parked on what I thought was a little service road that ran along route 96.  Now, thanks to Willie’s careful explanation, I now know I was in parked on the crumbling concrete of what was the historic highway.  Looking up, I could see Lexi waiting patiently in the car, but she was ready to move on too.  We were ready to get our kicks on the rest of Missouri’s Route 66!