Story by Ken Snodgrass
Editor’s Note: This story was originally published the July 2014 edition of the MSTA Michigan Chapter newsletter. The story has been edited to match the MSTA website’s style.
“The cowards never started and the weak died
along the way” – Kit Carson, Guide and Trapper
I bought my BMW RT two years ago looking for high adventure. After a few training trips, I was ready to strike out. The idea was pretty simple: complete a cross country road trip, use the BMW as it was intended and — since every trip needs an objective — follow the track of the Donner Party, who were famously trapped in the high Sierra Nevada Mountains in the winter of 1846-1847.
I’d also be following the track of Gabrielle Burton and her family, who followed the Donner Track in 1977. Gabrielle has written two books about the Donner Party: Impatient with Desire: The Lost Journal of Tamsen Donner — a fictional recreation of Tamsen Donner’s journal — and Searching for Tamsen Donner, an account of her family’s journey in 1977. Gabrielle had originally planned to make the trip solo on a Honda 350 in 1973, but as she said,
“Erosion eats away in drips. I don’t know when it happened, but at some point, my fears about the trip became greater than my desire to take it.”
I decided to make the trip solo so that if I decided to bailout or change plans, the decision and consequences would be on me. The upside of the decision was that I met a lot of people since traveling solo on a motorcycle gives everyone permission to come up and start a conversation. The downside is that there is no one to share the experiences you encounter along the way.
Day 1: Friday 5/9 (291 miles)
“Every journey begins with a first step.”
Thunderstorms, rain and winds crossed Michigan on Day 1, which delayed the start of my trip by 8 hours. The weather cleared around 2:30 p.m., so I loaded up and headed west on Interstate 94. I made it to Rensselaer, Ind., with a stop in Michiana Shores to capture my first Michigan 14 Corners Grand Tour location.
Day 2: Saturday 5/10 (591 Miles)
“Survivors are the first to notice something is different and first to react to it.”
I headed cross country through Indiana to Springfield, Ill., and the location of the Donner farm. On April 14, 1846, George Donner, 60, and his third wife, Tamsen, 44, and their five daughters left some of the best farm country in the world and headed west.
Traveling with them were George’s brother, Jacob, his wife, Elizabeth and their seven children. James and Margret Reed, Margret’s 70 year old mother, Sarah Keys, and their four children were the third family of the group. There were eight teamsters and a cook which brought the party to 32 people — of whom 14 did not survive the trip to California. From Springfield, U.S. Route 36 / Interstate 72 follows the Donner track to Independence, Mo., the jumping off spot for wagons heading west.
It was very warm and humid in Missouri, with thunderstorms in the afternoon. I was headed to Lewis and Clark State Park near St. Joseph and stopped at a small store for supplies. Down the road comes a couple of tank like vehicles labeled “Tornado Chasers — Discovery Channel.” I asked the clerk if they came by here often – she had never seen them before.
If I had thought a little more about it, I would have headed for a motel rather than the campground. Just after I got my new tent up, a tremendous thunderstorm hit – driving rain, 50 mph wind gusts and marble size hail. My tent was nearly flattened by the gusts, but there was one corner standing and dry. After the storm cleared, I found my cell phone floating it the corner of the tent. Screen was shot, but otherwise it worked fine. Maybe a sign to move up to a smart phone.
Day 3: Sunday 5/11 (231 miles)
“Toto, I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore …”
Sunday started off well. I packed up the tent and headed west on U.S. 36 – the Pony Express road through Kansas. Stopped in Seneca for gas and a coffee at McDonalds. I sat down to enter a post, and an elderly gentleman walks over and said “I’m going to do something I normally don’t and talk to a stranger.” So we talked about the motorcycle he had during the war, how three generations in his family have gone bust farming, how he was born not too far from my dad. After a half hour or so, he excused himself and joined his friends at another table. America may run on Dunkin, but it hangs out at McDonalds.
I continued west to Alcove Springs near Marysville and spent an hour or so exploring. The Donner party arrived at the spring on May 26 — 14 days after leaving Independence — and were then 470 miles from Springfield. The party named the spring which would be a favorite stopping point for following emigrants.
The spring and the area around it are now owned by the Alcove Spring Historical Trust which, with the National Park Service, have done a wonderful job preserving this important location. The trails and interpretive signs allow you to experience the area as the Donners did 168 years ago.
I then continued on to Lincoln, Neb., in the afternoon and headed west on Interstate 80. Skies were turning black ahead and, after seeing the storm chasers the day before, I knew I needed to get off the road right then. There were motels at Exit 382, but there was a gas station. I pulled in under the pump canopy alongside 10 or so other vehicles. Within 15 minutes, more than 30 people had taken refuge in the Milford Fossil fuel station. Everyone was a little nervous but the manager, David, was welcoming people in from the rain and wind, giving updates on the weather and showing us the safest places in the building while remaining calm and upbeat.
A tornado passed a half-mile to the north. The power failed but David was unfazed by it all. The storm started to clear and folks continued on, except for me. My motorcycle is on its side, with the windshield broken. With more storms coming, there was no way I was going to ride that bike. So David drove me to hotel in Lincoln, picked me up the next morning and refused the simplest token of my appreciation. A finer human being you’ll never meet.