All my life I have won things.When banks wanted to encourage customers to us ATM banking, Pittsburgh National Bank randomly awarded cash prizes for withdrawals.I won $20.My essay on citizenship submitted to the American Legion took top prize.The veterans awarded me a trail bike and my high school English teacher received a $25 U.S. Savings Bond.As a frequent flier, the photo I submitted of my grand-daughter Brianna sitting in my suitcase won an American Airlines “road warrior” recognition.Now, this week, I have learned that one of the many photos that I posted on www.igougo.com is winner of the 2009 U Go! Awards.This photo won the Best of Nature Photo in the Frames of Flora Awards.How cool is that?
Getting up early has its drawbacks.If you eat breakfast at 6 AM, very possibly you’re hungry again by 10:30 or 11 AM.So no wonder, when I revealed our Saturday plans to Ed – a trip to the National World War I Museum and a meal at the famous Kansas City Arthur Bryant’s – he wanted to go for BBQ first.
“We just ate,” I whined, amazed that he even thought the place would be open in the morning.
“Use your cell phone to call the BBQ place.If they are open, we’ll eat before visiting the museum,” he persisted.
I called.“Yes, we’re open. Come on over,” I heard over the kitchen noise.
Both of my favorite travel books give Arthur Bryant’s high marks. Road Trip USA calls it a “classic, no-frills rib shack” … “where heavenly BBQ sauces come in plain plastic bottles.” And, 1,000 Place to See Before You Die calls it “the best barbecue joint in town, or maybe anywhere.” This book elaborates and recommends “the signature half-pound of slow cooked brisket slapped on plain old white bread, with a gritty herbs- and spices-flavored barbecue sauce and the best skin-on french fries in America.” – This is what we ordered.
Ed carried the overloaded tray of food to a window seat following behind me. I cut a path through the crowd that gathered in the narrow passageway to the counter. Saturday tailgaters had lined up for to-go boxes behind us. Two busloads of tourists made a line out the door winding out on the sidewalk.They all knew Arthur Bryant’s was open early and the food was great.
Ed and I didn’t have much to say during our meal.It wasn’t because we had an attitude.We were munching, sampling the BBQ sauces, and licking our fingers!
The Halloween Parade came nearly to the doorstep of the coach.The staging area was in a parking lot just down the hillside near Campus RV Park.With all the commotion, I grabbed my camera and went out the door.
No vehicles cruised the streets of Independence, Missouri.Every throughway been blocked and was patrolled by security for the parade. The sidewalks – well, the sidewalks were jammed with people. Some brought chairs, others just plopped on the curb.The crowd lined the streets of town square and all the surrounding arteries.Downtown was alive and elbow-to-elbow with people.
I found a spot behind a street barrier on O’Sage at the base of a hill.I had a cascading view from the top of the hill to the level boulevard.
When the parade began, a line of headlights crested the hill.The Independence Police Force came forward in an impressive formation.The parade began with the thunder of their Harleys.Bands, show dogs, dance schools, witches, Scout troops, antique cars, John Deer tractors, more Harleys, Red Hatters, and even a Coast Guard boat followed.Ghostly creatures, darling princesses, and a politician or two passed by with waves and hand tosses of candy to the spectators.
The parade went on for over an hour.That’s how the folks in Independence, Missouri celebrate Halloween!
The presence of America’s 33rd President Harry S. Truman dominates downtown Independence, Missouri. He lived here, governed from here, and built his presidential library here.
His image is silhouetted on streetlight banners.Plaques embedded in the city sidewalks through the Truman District and neighborhood map a 2.7 mile trail of key places in Harry’s life.It’s called the Truman Walking Trail.Clinton’s Soda Fountain on the corner at 100 W. Maple Street still serves ice cream. It’s the place where Harry had his first job.And, the Victorian house where he lived from 1919 until his death in 1972 remains known as the “Summer White House.”
Our “road trip” brought Ed and me to Independence in early September when I took a job in Kansas City.We thought our two-years of travel experiences had ended.Instead, we became tourists in our new home – Harry’s town.Bit-by-bit, the historic nature of Independence captivated Ed and I.Was it coincidence that when we arrived I had been reading a biography written by David McCullough: Truman?Ed frequently remarks that it is “freaky” to be in Independence since he considers July 4th – “Independence Day” – as his start date for our “road trip.”
Harry’s own road trips are chronicled around Independence.He bought a car to travel from his family’s rural farm to Independence to court Bess Wallace, the woman he married.The town’s train depot is noted for his whistle-stop presidential campaign and trips to Washington, D.C.
For eight years, Harry guided the U.S. as President and a world leader.He made the difficult decision to drop the atomic bomb in World War II.He helped form the United Nations, NATO, and the Marshall Plan.He ordered the Berlin Airlift. The Harry S. Truman Library and Museum in Independence contains his presidential papers and a replica of his White House office. His gravesite and that of his wife Bess are in the courtyard.
Every step in Independence, whether in the Presidential Library and Museum or strolling the Truman District. Harry feels like a good neighbor. He’s had such humble beginnings that to call him “Truman” seems cold.He’s Harry and his spirit is everywhere in town.
I prayed for peace in Tanzania. I prayed for successful peacemaking efforts around the world.I heard the organ pipes play and voices rise in song, “Let There Be Peace on Earth.” I was seated in a sanctuary where each day a different country is selected for reflection in the Daily Prayer for Peace.On this day, two pre-teen girls, accompanied by their mom, led the service in observation of the United Nations Youth Day.They read scripture, offered a prayer, sang the hymn, and became quiet to allow silent meditation.This brief experience happened in the emblem of peace for the world, the Temple Sanctuary of the Community of Christ in Independence, Missouri.
From the Campus RV Park in Independence where we parked the Prevost, the spire of the Temple rose high about the tree line shining in the August sun like a silver needle poking through a bright blue fabric.This architectural masterpiece is home to the World Headquarters of the Community of Christ, an international denomination with 250,000 members in more than 50 countries.Persons of all faiths are welcome to the Temple which was dedicated in 1994 to the “pursuit of peace, reconciliation, and healing of the spirit.”
The bright light in the Temple entrance showed off a row of international flags along the hallway and many colorful tapestries hanging from a balcony terrace.This initial brightness lasts only until you enter the doors leading to the Worshiper’s Path.These lights are dim here to allow time for reflection at each stop point before reaching the Sanctuary.Symbolic artwork along the Path includes a carved-glass entrance of a grove of trees and a granite sculpture of the return of the prodigal son. A rough-hewn cross proclaims the risen Christ. Ikebana-style floral arrangements symbolize heaven, humanity and earth. And, water flows over a granite pool representing the overflowing of God’s love.The light grows brighter at each station until finally, the grandeur of the Sanctuary overcomes you.
Most impressive is the Sanctuary’s spiral ceiling which rises 195 feet.Looking at it, I felt that if were to rise up to its peak, I’d surely float to heaven.That is exactly the effect the designers wanted “to focus on the Divine.”I felt certain that our prayers for peace that afternoon went direct to heaven.
After participating in the Daily Prayer for Peace, I joined a small tour of the Temple.I walked the Worshiper’s Path again, this time with narration explaining the significance of the art.In the sanctuary my guide warned, “You can become dizzy staring up to the pinnacle.” I had already learned this lesson.
He pointed out the 102-rank, 5,685-pipe organ in the Sanctuary that has pipes ranging in size from six inches to 32 feet. He invited us to attend one of the organ recitals beginning at 3 PM daily.He called attention to the award-winning stained glass window depicting the harvest of wheat and rice.He took our small group outside to the World Plaza where we walked on a brick inlaid map of the world.We sat in Meditation Chapel which overlooks a Japanese garden. There he answered questions about the Community of Christ and its founder Joseph Smith, Jr. Our group tour ended in the Library where some folks wanted to see the Doctrines and Covenants relating to the Church.
I was the only person who wanted to see the adjacent Auditorium.My guide graciously accommodated my interest in seeing more.He led me thorough an underground passageway connecting the Temple to the Auditorium.
The Auditorium features a 5,800-seat Conference Chamber with seating in-the-round beneath an expansive domed ceiling measuring 90 feet from the floor, 214 feet wide, and 168 feet long.The 111-rank organ here is among the largest free-standing organs in the United States with 6,500 pipes ranging from ¼ inch to 32 feet.In July 1948, President Harry S. Truman made history in the Auditorium by signing Executive Order 9981 to desegregate the United States armed forces.Now, the Auditorium functions as a religious, cultural and community center for the Kansas City region.
In addition to the Auditorium and Temple tour, there was still more to experience at the Community of Christ World Headquarters.A small museum houses 17 exhibits tracing the history of the Church from its origins in the 1820’s to its world missions today.
And, then back in the lobby, the tapestries themselves are particularly important.They represent “The Thread Project” – an international exhibition by Terry Helwig.The threads in each tapestry were pulled from the fabric of people’s everyday lives: threads celebrating births and marriage, threads from 9/11 families…over 50,000 threads gathered in 70 countries and seven continents. Then, Helwig enlisted weavers and textile artists worldwide to create the tapestries from these threads.The result of this seven year project is the creation of one World Cloth – a reminder that the human race is a global family of one, united by a common thread.
The Community of Christ World Headquarters merits a slow paced visit to absorb all it encompasses – architecture, art, history, meditation and prayer.When you go there, peace will be with you.
When a long journey ends, a warm welcome from family and friends can make you feel so good! And, that is exactly how we felt arriving in Kansas City.On Friday night, our “bus nut” friend Sean opened his house to us and gave us a place to park the coach.By Saturday morning, Suzie and Matt arrived at Sean’s house with hugs and happiness knowing that we’d be in Kansas City for awhile.
Ed and I have traveled over 28,000 miles during our two year road trip that began in September 2007.Four times Sean met us on the road – first in Marshall, Missouri ; then in Albany, New York; once in Pharr, Texas and finally in Fulton, Missouri.It only seems fitting that our final mile ended at his front door.
And, when we look at the map charting our travels, there’s a thick series of lines passing behind a photo of daughter Suzie.Many of our routes no matter what the destination went through Futon and St. Louis where Suzie has lived while studying at the university. I know she and her boyfriend Matt will be happy to have Mom close by – only four hours away, no more wondering “where’s Mom?”
To celebrate our coming to Kansas City, Sean grilled burgers and mushrooms stuffed with crab. Suzie mixed the seasonings for some dippy bread. And, I made a family favorite perogies and corn-on-the-cob too. What a feast!
We celebrated the ties that bind us.We celebrated a safe, extraordinary journey through the US and Canada. We celebrated my new job.
On September 1st, I begin a new career as the Director of Development and Marketing for a Kansas City non-profit organization.Sheffield Place empowers homeless mothers and their children to heal from their trauma and move toward self-sufficiency.When I am not out asking for money to fund this worthy program, I’ll be a tourist in my own town – Kansas City – and I will put the finishing touches on my book about our road trip.
Our journey maybe ending but more experiences will unfold. Expect the unexpected from me and more stories to entertain. This is a new beginning!Welcome to Kansas City!
I nudged Ed with my elbow over and over as we watched the film about the Lewis and Clark expedition.So many points rang true to our own expedition in our Prevost coach “Dolly’s Pride.”
We had stopped at the Missouri River Basin Lewis & Clark Interpretive Trail & Visitor Center in Nebraska City, Nebraska.The Center sits on 79 acres of a wooded bluff overlooking the Missouri River, the very river navigated by Lewis and Clark over 200 years ago. We parked our 40-foot-long coach in the lot not far from the 55-foot-long, authentic replica of the keelboat used on this historic journey.
A three-story building houses the interactive exhibits and a theater.It was the film about the Corps of Discovery that reminded us most of our own Grand Tour of the US & Canada.
From 1804 to 1806, Lewis and Clark traveled under President Thomas Jefferson’s order to explore and find an inland route to the Pacific.We had no presidential directive, but our road trip ran the course of two years 2007 to 2009.They had brief and tense encounters with Indians.We encountered Indians.The encounters were brief but never tense.American Indians nowadays run the casinos.They gave us warm greetings, free places to park the RV, and eagerly shared stories about their culture.Lewis and Clark discovered that their keelboat was too large for navigation.On occasion our coach proved to be a bit too big on some winding narrow roads like the one to Winslow, Arkansas or when we encountered an old fashioned covered bridge.
Lewis and Clark traveled without maps and had to seek information and help along their journey.Our Wal-Mart Atlas served us well, but we too stopped to ask for information and help finding our way.We now have a Garmin.Lewis and Clark saw hoodoos, perhaps some of the same ones we saw out west.They saw elk, buffalo, pronghorn antelopes and prairie dogs. We did too. They complained about unpleasant insects – the mosquito.We consider them “unpleasant” as well.The expedition’s elk skin-bound journals recorded daily activities.This epic journal described culture and lifestyle.I used my Dell laptop for destination commentary, to write a blog “Did Someone Say RV Road Trip” www.glotours.blogspot.com and to comment on Facebook about our experiences.
Sometimes the Corps of Discovery rested for two days, sometimes for as long as two weeks.Ed and I also paused for days at a time, once we parked for nearly three months in Florence, Oregon so we could enjoy the Pacific coastline.And, when the expedition ended after 8,000 miles, Lewis and Clark returned to St. Louis for a hearty welcome.We are wrapping up our Grand Tour after 28,000 miles and came 200 miles shy of St. Louis.We received our hearty welcome in Kansas City, Missouri.
I can give you two good reasons to visit Le Mars, Iowa – Blue Bunny Ice Cream and Willow Creek Campground!
Le Mars claimed the official title as “The Ice Cream Capital of the World” in October 1994.The town’s local Wells’ Dairy – the makers of Blue Bunny Ice Cream – produces over 120 million gallons of ice cream a year.That’s more ice cream produced by a single company in Le Mars than in any other city in the world!
When we arrived in Le Mars, I made a quick visit to the Ice Cream Capital of the World Visitor Center.When I found out they weren’t giving out samples, I headed straight to the 1920’s Blue Bunny Ice Cream Parlor next door.I tasted a few flavors before settling on one for my cone.I chose a vanilla ice cream laced with a ribbon of caramel and some chunky, crunchy pecans.It reminded me of my Baskin- Robbins favorite Pralines n’ Cream only richer.
Did my Blue Bunny treat deserve the raves I heard preceding my visit? Yes, but I would venture to bet that these Blue Bunny loyalists have never tried what I still consider to be the best ice cream.The Creamery at Penn State University in College Station, Pennsylvania remains #1 in my ranking.Bruster’s Real Ice Cream Shops are my favorite neighborhood ice cream parlors especially when they are serving Chocolate Raspberry Truffle.I am loyal to Baskin-Robbins for an occasional treat too since I scooped their ice cream for extra cash in college. On occasion, just give me a spoon and you’ll catch me eating some Ben & Jerry’s ice cream right out of the grocery store pint size container. And, when in Texas I learned that Texans love their Blue Bell Ice Cream just like the folks in Le Mars love their Blue Bunny.On a hot day, just about any ice cream will satisfy me.
Just like the ice cream, Willow Creek Campground gave me a good feeling.This Le Mars Municipal Park offered trees to shade our coach on the sunny days and a scenic place to barbecue our dinner.We could have filled several days here riding the bike trails, walking the paths, swimming in the pond, fishing, or testing our golf swing.Our two day stop flew by and we were on the road before we had time to appreciate these amenities around us.For a Municipal Park, Willow Creek exceeded my expectations.RVers passing through should consider this affordable location.
“So you are on the sinners and saints tour,” laughed Rhonda.You could draw that conclusion.While passing through Iowa, we parked the coach for two nights at the Wild Rose Casino.From the Casino, we drove our Toyota to visit the Grotto of the Redemption.Gambling and a Grotto – what an odd mix!
It happened because of a mere mention of my agate hunting adventure along Lake Superior. This conversation with a manager of the Wild Rose Casino prompted her to recommend a nearby attraction. “If you enjoy agates or stones in general, you must visit the Grotto of the Redemption.”We had seen the roadside sign along Highway 18 earlier and passed it.Now on this hot summer afternoon, I reconsidered.The temperature in the coach was rising and my casino budget was dwindling.The time seemed right for an outing. My expectations of this attraction were low.Little did I know that visiting the Grotto would leave me feeling like I hit the “jackpot”!
Often called the “Eighth Wonder of the World” and a “Miracle in Stone, the Grotto of the Redemption spans a full city block in West Bend, Iowa.It is the largest religiously inspired grotto in the world. The Grotto is actually a composite of nine separate Grottos; each portrays a scene spanning the life of Jesus from His birth to His resurrection. The highest point of the Grotto rises forty feet.This mountain commemorates the 13th Station of the Cross – Jesus is taken down from the cross.His limp body lays cradled in Mary’s arms in a sculpture patterned after Michelangelo’s famous Pieta.This is just one of the many Italian Mosaic and Carrara marble statues that adorn sacred place.
More than its size, more than its lifelike statues of the Holy Family and other Biblical figures like Adam & Eve, Moses, and heavenly angels, the minerals and stones used to construct the Grotto make it a geological wonder.One man – Father Paul Dobberstein (1872 – 1954) started construction of the Grotto in 1912 to fulfill a promise he made to God.For 42 years, Father Dobberstein labored setting the rocks and gems into concrete.
According to Rhonda Miller, Director of the Grotto, Father used materials considered to be “junk” at a time. Farmers and landowners were happy to have Father haul the stuff away.That “junk” represents a vast collection of minerals and stones – petrified wood, stalactite and stalagmite, malachite, jasper, quartz crystals, sea shells, and other gems invaluable today. An entry on Wikepedia sets the value of the Grotto gems at $4.3 million.In reaction to that number, Rhonda commented, “Bill Gates couldn’t build it. We can’t rebuild it. The materials aren’t available. The Grotto is priceless.”
The Grotto is listed on the National Register of Historic Places. Its geological value is world renown for rock hounds and artists. Architects study its construction. The non-religious visitors find it a “peaceful place.” The Faithful visitors move closer to Christ after they experience the Grotto.Rhonda Miller says she annual visitation to range between 25,000 – 30,000 people. Guided tours are available May through October, and anytime by appointment.I caught part of a tour but spent most of my time looking at the dazzling minerals and stones, each one unique, each one crafted by the hand of God.
In this sinners and saints tour, I took a gamble visiting the Grotto.It paid off big time!
When experiencing the Grotto of the Redemption, one could easily overlook the adjacent church.Inside Sts. Peter and Paul Catholic Church are two things you must see during a visit.
The Christmas Chapel is constructed of ornamental rocks and gems.It contains a Brazilian amethyst that weighs over 300 pounds.This nativity scene is considered to be one of Father Paul Dobberstein’s finest works.He completed the Christmas Chapel in 1927 using materials he considered too delicate to withstand conditions that would affect them if placed in the outdoor grottos.
A wooden altar stands 22-feet high in the sanctuary.Hand-carved out of bird’s-eye maple, this altar won first place at Chicago’s World Fair in 1893.
After admiring the Christmas Chapel and altar, you can light a candle and spend some time in quiet mediation inside this peaceful church.
I simply sent a photo from my Verizon phone to the kids and they immediately knew where Ed and I had arrived with the Prevost.The shot of the green corn field gave away our location.
“Iowa!” came confirming the text messages.“Makes me shudder!” I replied.
Both Chris and Suzie remember our family trip in our first MCI bus conversion motorhome. Some ten years ago, we traveled to Ames, Iowa to attend a Family Motor Coaching Association Rally.This is a trip we will never forget and can only now laugh about the experience.
We were so new to the world of RVing that we didn’t have a tow dolly.No problem…Chris at 16-years-old and eager to drive would follow “Dolly’s Pride” (the MCI) in “Zippy” (the Honda Acura).We’d have a run about car and Chris could feel the thrill of his first road trip.We communicated by CB coach-to-car cruising west from Pittsburgh along Interstate 70.Miles flew by and our caravan held tight until we approached Indianapolis.Chris radioed information to Ed about turning on the beltway around the city.Ed confirmed then promptly missed the turn.
We heard Chris ask, “Where’d you go?” Then, we lost radio contact with him.
Immediately, I began to worry about my son – only 16-years-old, with a brand new driver’s license, somewhere off in Indianapolis.Surprisingly, Suzie reacted to this situation.The brother she claimed to find annoying and acknowledged frequently with a hateful sneer was her new best friend.“We lost my brother!” She cried big tears. “I love him.We need to get him back,” she pleaded. Her tears made me cry too as I hugged her tight.
What seemed like an eternity later, Ed turned the bus around and retraced the route to the turn where we lost Chris.We used the CB to call out to him and finally, got his reply.We found him sitting in “Zippy” calmly waiting for us at the roadside rest area.
Full hook-ups were not an option for us when our family caravan arrived at the Ames rally.We ended up boondocked in the parking lot of a veterinary school.Running the generator gave us power to run the air conditioning. This helped cool the coach a bit; but when we shut down the generator, the inside temperature climbed to suffocating temperatures.No breeze blew through the windows. In desperation, I left my bed, crawled over the kids sleeping on the front couch, and opened the coach door to feel the night air.I crouched there trying to get cool, then eventually laid down on the cold granite floor with my head practically sticking out the door.When the kids discovered me in the morning, they felt sure I’d suffered a heart attack or been murdered in the night.Ed didn’t see this spectacle of his wife laying on the floor with her head and arms dangling out the door.Iowa in July is hot as hell!
The rally exhibit area provided some relief from the heat by day; but it could not relieve the boredom of two kids – 16 and 11 years old.With some hesitation, we gave the kids permission to drive “Zippy” around Ames to see if they could find something amusing to do for the day.When they met us later, we expected to hear about their adventure.Instead they retraced their route on a map showing us the roads they traveled. All the roads were lined with corn and every road ended at a corn field. “We saw corn, corn and more corn!”
Now, we all just need a photo of a corn field to trigger the memory of this 1999 Chevy Chase –style “family vacation” and know with certainty “Mom’s in Iowa!”
Usually if you are waiting on a train, you plan to get aboard.No so for the many people who gathered along the tracks in Trempealeau.They waited in anticipation.They followed tweets on Twitter. They clung to cell phones calling friends spread geographically along the track. Some stood, Ed sat.All hoped to get a photo, a video, a glimpse of the world famous steam engine SP 4449.
The Southern Pacific Daylight no. 4449, manufactured in 1941, was among the last mainline steam locomotives to be built.Coming out of retirement, SP 4449 is traveling across America on an Amtrak sponsored trip hauling passengers on a rare excursion.
Just by luck, Ed and I stopped in Trempealeau, Wisconsin on the morning of Saturday, July 18th as we traveled along The Great River Road.A train enthusiast told us about engine SP 4449. He’d driven for more than 2-hours from his home to be trackside.With each rumble of the tracks, he and others jumped with excitement.These false-alarms were diesel engines hauling industrial cars on the tracks across the Mississippi River.
More waiting. Someone got a call! “The train just breezed through Cochrane,” he announced to anyone wanting a progress report.Serious calculations began – time and distance – guesses about arrival time rumored through the waiting crowd.
Soon we could felt the vibration of the ground and glimpsed the puff of steam.The engine approached without slowing at all. Someone with a stopwatch clocked 62 mph.SP 4449 thundered past then faded as quickly as it appeared.
The population of 435 people in the Village of Cochrane, Wisconsin increased by two recently. Ed and I stopped there for a night as we traveled on Wisconsin State Road 35, otherwise known as the “Great River Road.”
We found a church parking lot that wasn’t quite big enough for our 40-foot long Prevost “Dolly’s Pride.” For the moment, we parked there anyway just to walk around town and find a more appropriate spot.We didn’t walk more than a few feet.A woman got out of her compact car to take a photo of the church so we asked her about where we might boondock for the night.
She knew the community well.She grew up here.This had been where she went to church.Across the street, she fondly remembered as the home of her aunt who ran the town gas station and lived upstairs above the pumps.As she reminisced, we noticed her adolescent grandson squirming in the car.He had accompanied her back “home” so she could show him the place of his family roots.She said we could follow her to the community park, a place where “nobody will mind you staying the night.”
Nobody minded that “Dolly’s Pride” took up all the parking spaces in the small lot across from the village swimming pool.Nobody minded that the two of us dined lakeside in a picnic pavilion with seating for 60. Nobody minded that we feed the ducks waddling under the drooping branches of the ancient trees. And, nobody minded that we pressed our faces to the fence and watched a herd of reindeer graze.
When the local water tastes bad, I tend to drink beer.If I buy the same brand, the brew tastes consistent and refreshing.Not so with water!Water – simple H2O – can taste very different as I have learned while on our “RV Road Trip.”Some water reeks of chlorine, some of lime.One time the water looked yellow. It smelt bad so I drank only bottled water from a commercial filtered dispenser that cost me 25-cents to fill a gallon jug. Although our coach has a water filtration system, if you start with bad tasting water, no amount of filtering can make it taste anything but nasty.
Only once have I found water that tastes pure and good.This water runs free from an Artesian Well in Wisconsin.Naturally purified, the water does not need pumping.It flows upward from the groundwater through an open pipe.Anyone can fill a glass or jugs, just wait your turn outside the tiny wooden shack at the City of Ashland’s Malowski Beach.A roadside stop for a quick drink was all I needed to declare this water the best I ever tasted during our travels. It’s the best I tasted in a lifetime!
For ten days, we camped near Ashland and I made several trips to the Artesian Well for refills.We even made one last stop there on our way out of town and savored every last drop!
