Minnewaska Musings

By Paul Gremmels

This spring, I traveled over 1,400 miles simply to look upon the most beautiful lady in America. I suspect that I have been traveling toward her my entire life, and when I first laid eyes upon her she was standing alone, along a quiet country road. I’m sure she’s still standing there today. After all, she has been, for over 400 years. “She” is the McBaine Oak Tree or as the locals call her, “The Big Tree.” She lives all by herself in the middle of a Missouri river flat, between the small villages of McBaine and Huntsdale, Missouri.

   

It had been a few decades since I was in the South and I had forgotten that the lady store clerks (and one lady State Trooper) will refer to you as “Darlin’.”

As in; “Have a nice day, Darlin’. Thank you Darlin’. Keep your speed down, Darlin’.” It surprised me at first, but then I decided that I kind of missed that subtle, comforting, lexicon of the South.

   My wife has convinced me to take the old U.S. Highways whenever we go on driving trips. Traveling on U.S. Highways is like stepping into the past, as these highways predate the Interstates and rather than bypassing the little towns, they will take you right down the main streets of them. It’s slower going, but you see more and get a better feel for the country that you are traveling through. If you are going to take the journey from Minnesota to see the McBaine Oak Tree, you will have to go south. Way south. To the middle of Missouri. You will eventually come upon Interstate-70. You can’t miss it, as it is a broad, divided four lane highway that cuts all the way across our country from coast to coast. Depending upon where you come upon it, you will take it to the east for some distance. It is one of the busiest interstates in America, so be prepared for traffic. I may suggest traveling the speed limit of I-70 in the travel lane and avoiding the hammer-lane, where you cannot go fast enough and may well meet a friendly Missouri State Trooper who will call you “darlin’.”  As you hammer along I-70 you will eventually cross the Missouri River. The bridge spans between two spectacular bluffs on both sides and allows you a brief view of its breadth. Shortly, you will come upon the County Road 0 exit. Taking it will instantly bring you into a calming, polar opposite environment than the interstate. County Road 0 is a two lane that winds back through the wooded bluffs and switch-backs down to the Missouri River bottom. Frankly, I have taken roller coasters that have given me less butterflies. When you finally reach the bottom, you will still be in the forest as you enter the tiny village of Huntsdale. At the other side of town you will come to a stop sign at the edge of the woods.

   I looked left at that stop sign and the road went back up into the woods. I then looked right onto a wide expanse of open field. And there, in the middle of that field, was the lady I had come to see. I smiled a teary-eyed smile and turned the truck to the right.

   Parking a respectful distance away from the tree, I walked, hand in handwith my wife, up to her. It was a clear, blue sky day and a light breeze breathed life into her new, spring leaves. She was, after all, just waking up for the four-hundredth and some time. I stood beneath her, dwarfed by her mass and height and lightly touched her thick bark, with grooves deeper than the width of my hand. I leaned in close, and quietly whispered to her;

“Good morning, darlin’.”