I want them principally for that, but I think too that Rose could make some stories from such a record, for publication and that would be fine too.
Could you, I wonder, tell the story of those days. . . . Just tell it in your own words . . . if only you could talk to me.
If you will do it, I will be glad to pay the stenographer for taking it down for me and I want lots of it, pages and pages of things you remember. As you begin to tell it so many things will come back to you about the little everyday happenings and what you and Mother and Aunt Eliza and Uncle Tom and Uncle Henry did as children and young folks, going to parties and sleigh rides and spelling schools and dancing school, if you did, or whatever young folks did do then. About your work and school too. Also about way back when Grandma [Charlotte Tucker Quiner] was left a widow and the Indians used to share their game with her and the children. . . .
We have thought about going up to see you and talk about these things but I am not able to make such a trip. . . .
Please Aunt Martha, do tell these stories for us all . . . I can make a copy . . . and pass them on to the rest of the cousins.
I am very busy these days with my writing, though I do not pretend to write anything like Rose. Still I have no trouble in having the little things I do write published. Keeping house does not leave much time for other things as you know.
What do you do to pass the time away? You read a good deal, I know, and that is such a pleasure. I have gotten so that I would rather sit in a rocking chair and travel with a book than to make the exertion of going anywhere.
Rose still wants to travel and after a long rest at home she plans to go to Europe again and wander around for a time.
Give my love to all the cousins that are within reach. Tell them I often think of them all. With much love to you,
Your niece,
Laura Ingalls Wilder
I had forgotten what sunset and starlight was like on the prairie
Accustomed to naming horses and other farm animals, the Wilders’ dubbed their Buick “Isabelle.” Rose taught both her parents to drive, but Manly became the chauffeur. In September 1925 Laura, Rose, and their peppy houseguest Helen Boylston drove from Rocky Ridge to California. Manly stayed at home to tend the farm, and he received regular postcards and letters from the three women as they journeyed through Kansas, Colorado, Nevada, and California. The trip, with some nearly impassable roads en route, was considered adventurous for three women traveling without a male escort.
Hotel Lassen
Wichita, Kansas
SEPTEMBER 18, 1925
Dear Manly,
We got to Wichita last night. We had to detour all over the state of Kansas because they were working on the highway so we did not get here until the sun had set and the stars came out, but we were in time for a late supper. It had been a hard day, so we are staying over a day to rest. The hotel is nice and comfortable and Isabelle has behaved well all the time so far.
I had forgotten what sunset and starlight was like on the prairie and the girls had never seen anything like it, or rather Rose did not remember, and Helen had never seen it. The wind of course blows all the time in the regular old way and everything is blowing on the street. I am glad we are in Missouri for I could not stand it to live in the wind.
Dodge City is the next stop and an easy drive, they say.
I hope everything is all right and that you are keeping comfortable. Rose is talking of getting you one of the new style Fords, but I don’t know what she will do, of course. . . .
There isn’t anything to write for nothing happens, we just drive over the roads and stop at the usual hotel. Everyone has been very kind and helpful and the hotels make special efforts for tourists.
Lots of love,
Bessie
Please do remember to be careful about the fires
Lakin, Kansas
SEPTEMBER 21, 1925
Dear Manly,
We were held up yesterday in western Kansas by a bad storm and frightful roads. Spent the night in this little country town hotel kept by people who came here from Missouri 19 years ago. The storm is over this morning and the wind is drying the roads so that we expect to start on again in about an hour.
Thirty five miles more and we will be out of the state of Kansas and on good roads. The roads are good all through Colorado we are told and the passes are still open. Depends on the weather. If there is any danger of bad weather in the mountains we will turn south and take the southern route but we think we are in time to get through.
It is strange to see the plains again with nothing to break the view in any direction as far as we can see. We are now on the old Santa Fe trail along the Arkansas river. The country is still full of buffalo grass and houses are miles and miles apart. Land can be bought for $10 an acre and they think this is a great country if people would only try to farm instead of running to town all the time. A good crop of corn is 19 bushels to the acre. The only people who are making good are those who are keeping cows and selling cream. The woman here at the hotel says they cannot get along unless they do.
It is cold here this morning and I have on my high shoes and a sweater. Your warm underclothes are in your sock box in the closet. I don’t know whether I told you or not.
Please do remember to be careful about the fires.
We expect to be making better time from now on because we do not get tired riding anymore and once we get across the mountains we will have good roads. We all have a feeling that the state of Kansas put a hoodoo on us [a traditional African American term meaning a run of bad luck] trying to keep us in the state. We feel we must make a special effort to get out of the state of Kansas. We expect to do that and much more today if all goes well. The girls will be along soon and I must fix the suitcases and be ready.
Take good care of yourself. The girls have promised if the trip drags out too long they will send me home on the train, but I do want to see the Painted Desert on the way home if possible.
Saw one of the new Fords yesterday. It is a beauty. The man said it is going to make the old Fords awful cheap. They would have to about give them away, so don’t do anything reckless because you think it is a bargain.
Lots of love,
Bessie
Postcards to Manly
[Postmarked from Grand Junction, Colorado]
Some of the dates on Laura’s letters and cards are incorrect. She obviously sent small bunches of mail to Manly when she had access to a post office.
SEPTEMBER 22, 1925
All day we have driven among the mountains with snow on the tops but have not been cold. We are now past danger in the passes from snow. Are staying tonight in Glenwood Springs and tomorrow going to Grand Junction. Everything fine.
Bessie
SEPTEMBER 22, 1925
Buena Vista is a beautiful town in a valley with snow topped mountains all around. The air is wonderful and so is the water. It was very warm in the valley but the air was so fresh from the snow on the mountains.
We all like eastern Colorado
The Antlers Hotel
Colorado Springs, Colorado
SEPTEMBER 22, 1925
Dear Manly,
We got into Colorado Springs last night and we are stopping at this beautiful hotel. The girls have gone downtown to have Isabelle repacked and gone over a little for the trip to Denver and over the pass.
We expect to have an early lunch and start before long for Denver. The car is running beautifully, the engine just purring along. I do believe that barring accidents it will make the trip and be as good as ever. We have had good luck in finding Buick garages all along the way to give us oil and gas and look the car over to see that it is all right. Helen is proving to be a careful driver and we do not go as fast as some because she will not slam the car over rough places nor take any chances. I think you can rest perfectly easy about that. Colorado roads are good and the whole feeling of the state is different than Kansas. Everyone we meet hates Kansas.
It is cold here and the air and water are splendid. The sky was lighted last night by the glow from the smelters etc. It was a weird looking light.
We saw potatoes piled in the fields yesterday and dozens & dozens of Shetland ponies and little colts. The horses are nice too, and children are riding them to school. We all like eastern Colorado.
I wrote you yesterday from our last stop in Kansas, but it was such a funny little place I feel like you might not get the letter. We are all well, but I am rather dreading to have my ears pop when I go over the pass.
The people are so nice through here, the regular old western type. I thought it has disappeared, but it is the same as it used to be. Made me feel queer as though I had gone back years and years.
Tell you what—let’s sell the farm, pack our suitcases, take Isabelle with her nice heater and go wandering for awhile before we settle down again.
Helen is some surprised at the size of the U.S. Says she knew it was six days by train to San Francisco but it didn’t mean much to her. She had no idea it was so far and was sort of overwhelmed by the prairies.
Rose is already planning her next novel, but I am intent on moving the trip along, to see as much as possible but to get home as soon as we can. [Rose noted her mother’s uneasiness and eagerness to return home.]
We will not stop in Denver as we planned but will go on. Take good care of yourself and we will be home before long so you can take your trip South.
Lots of love,
Bessie
Postcards to Manly
[Postmarked from Buena Vista, Colorado]
SEPTEMBER 26, 1925
We went through this pass on the road from Colorado Springs. Buena Vista is 7980 foot high. We are leaving this morning to cross the mountains through Tennessee Pass. By night we will be past danger of snow in the passes. Will not go through Denver because of storms that way. Saved 300 miles by this route.
Bessie
“This world . . . she’s sure a whopper”
Hotel Utah
Salt Lake City, Utah
SEPTEMBER 28, 1925
Dear Manly,
As you see, we have reached Salt Lake City. Got here at 4 p.m. yesterday.
I have not written you a letter since we were in Lakin, Kansas, because I would be tired when we got in and there were no writing materials in our rooms. Then in the morning we would try for an early start. So I have been sending you just postcards. Hope you got the crate of Rocky Ford melons all right, that ought to be enough seeds.
I am afraid to mail the Honey Dew melon seeds. They are so wonderful. . . . I shall bring them home safely.
From Lakin we got an early start and were out of Kansas and at Holly, Colorado at lunch time. We were all glad to see the last of Kansas. . . . The drive from Dodge City to Lakin was so short but we were two hours getting over 20 miles of road. Of course we could have dashed on and wrecked Isabelle and maybe ourselves but we wanted to go the rest of the way.
As soon as we struck Colorado the roads were good, though rather awful among the mountains and over the deserts. We drove from Lakin to Colorado Springs in one day through wonderful mountain scenery and gorges and streams. Colorado Springs is a nice place among the mountain tops. We passed Pike’s Peak on our way out the next morning, went through the Ute Pass and traveled all day within sight of snow covered mountain peaks. Stopped at Buena Vista that night and there is a really wonderful place! A little city in a hollow among mountains. The air was cold at night so that I put my coat on my bed for extra cover. In the morning the sun shone warm and all around the town snow covered mountain peaks rose high into the air. The air was wonderful to breathe. I’ve never smelled any like it before. It was warm . . . and so wonderfully fresh and pure. The water came down from the mountains and bubbled in drinking fountains on the streets. It was of course cold and soft.
We drove most of the next day in sight of snow and there had been a sprinkle on the roads. . . . Between Colorado Springs and Glenwood Springs we stopped for lunch at Leadville, where we sent the cantaloupe. It is a mining town, but quite a nice city. Glenwood Springs was the next stop, a summer resort, just closed. The mountains shut in so close around, that the air seemed stale and damp.
From Glenwood Springs we traveled through more mountains the character of which changed until they were desert mountains, altogether different from the eastern slope of the Rockies. We passed through a tunnel three miles long, instead of going through Independent Pass. The tunnel route was shorter, with better roads.
We stopped at Grand Junction over night and next morning soon were out of the desert. It was not a sand desert, more silt and dirt which drifted into piles and mounds, then became set and caked. Sagebrush and cactus grew here and there for awhile and then, even that stopped and there was nothing but the awful baked, queer looking earth.
We were told at Grand Junction that there had been floods in Utah and bad washouts on the desert. . . . Bridges were out . . . we had to go through the washes because the bridges were not rebuilt. Believe me, Isabelle with Helen driving can point her nose straight up and climb out of a wash. I think she could climb the side of a house!
We had lunch at Green River, which is a hot desert town. We all wore goggles to protect our eyes and Helen and Rose wore green eyeshades when driving, besides the goggles.
After Green River the desert was worse and worse. Hot. We passed through the oil field where the government gets the gas for their air ships, the kind that will not set them on fire. We got across the desert safely and stopped at Price, Utah at night, which made for an easy run into Salt Lake City yesterday.
There is a desert dry farmer just the other side of Green River, who came there because he was tired of cities. He is a good mechanic and he has three automobiles that people abandoned, giving up the drive in despair, and taking the train out. The mechanic easily fixed the cars.
We passed two men at a washout on the desert. One was from Mexico and lay asleep or drunk in the shade of the bank. The other man sat on the running board of the car, watching the road. They were loaded down with weapons, guns, and knives. We sailed merrily by them.
From Price we went through mountains again, range after range of desert mountains, no timber on them, just rocks and very low bushes that are red, yellow, brown and some green. We came through these mountains into the Salt Lake valley.
We are staying at Salt Lake City to have Isabelle gone over, oiled and washed and polished up for her body’s sake. There is, I believe, a little tightening to be done here and there. The engine is running like a watch, brakes held beautifully, but we want to be sure everything is right about her for the rest of the trip. We expect to be here two days, and then four days should put us into San Francisco.
The girls are out looking at the city and buying some clothes while I write you. Everyone has been as nice as possible to us. I believe we will all be glad to get home again, for “if this world is as big in other directions as it is in this, she’s sure a whopper.”
Helen is some astonished. She had never seen anything like the country we have gone through and I think she thought it didn’t amount to much west of Buffalo, New York, except for California.
I am sending you a sprig of sagebrush. Smell it! Also sending some maps under separate cover, which shows our route.
I am enjoying the trip, but times I wish I was home, for after all, I do get tired, and “there is no place like home.” We are getting anxious to hear from you and expect to do so in San Francisco. Don’t have any worry about us. . . . I do hope everything is all right at home and that it is still warm there.
Love from us all,
<
br /> Bessie
Postcards to Manly
Tonopah, Nevada
OCTOBER 2, 1925
Dear Manly,
This house was built of empty green bottles laid in plaster. Relics of the old days. Our journey will soon be over now with good luck and we will be on the way back.
Love,
Bessie
OCTOBER 2, 1925
Tonopah, Nevada is a pretty mountain hometown, the home of the Comstock Lode, richest in the world. The vein of ore 60–70 feet wide, much of it pure enough to go direct to the smelter. Silver and gold. The finding of this mine won the Civil War for the North, and riches.
An unearthed $400 million in silver from the Comstock Lode did indeed help finance the North’s defeat of the Confederacy.
It has been a wonderful trip
The Palace Hotel
San Francisco
OCTOBER 4, 1925
Manly Dear,
We got into San Francisco this noon and are settled in this hotel for the few days we will stay. Rose had intended to stay two weeks but has cut the time to one week, for which I am more than glad. I am homesick. (Please don’t ever tell Rose.)
We found your letters waiting for us with a big bunch of other mail for the girls. I don’t see how other people make the trip to California and back so quickly. It must be hard on their cars to say nothing of themselves. . . . Someway I cannot believe them at least if they go the way we have. It has been a wonderful trip and I am glad I have seen it but I would not take it again for anything. I have had all the mountain travel I want and I think Rose has too. Helen is a very careful driver in really bad places like Tioga Pass, and she has been very easy on the car. The engine is running like a watch and everything in good order except that the body is dusty and travel stained but a cleaning and paint will fix that.
The Selected Letters of Laura Ingalls Wilder Page 5