Chimney Rock ...

or

"Meeting B. F. Owen"

I am not sure of the best title

Our next spot was the famous Chimney Rock, a easily identified land formation which served as a marker along the trail.  It could be seen for miles.  It is now a National Historic Site.  According to my "Mormon Trail Map", this is the most recognized spot along the Oregon/Mormon Trails.  It is made of volcanic ash and clay.  It is now about 470 feet tall from the base to the "chimney" tops but it was thought to be about 100 feel higher when the pioneers were traveling this direction.

This was my first picture of the landmark with my phone.
We were still about 8 or so miles away and Gary stopped for me
to take this picture.

At the site itself, the marker.....

and an older marker.  Many sites had two or sometimes three markers as different groups have placed markers to talk about the sites.

The skies above us to the west.....

And here is some shots of the Chimney Rock as we reached the parking lot to the east of it.

 And it was here that another one of the sweet moments of the trip occurred...... first some background:  Some of Gary's relatives traveled down the Mormon Trail but my relatives traveled the Oregon Trail.  I was fortunate enough to have a copy of B.F. Owen's journal (my maternal great-grandfather--Benjamin Franklin Owen) and a long poem written by John Hamilton McClure called "How We Came To Oregon" which he wrote as an adult.  He is my maternal great-great

uncle, brother to Jane McClure who was the wife to B.F. Owen.  (Jane and B.F. actually met on the Oregon Trail but didn't marry for a number of years as she was only 16 and he was 25ish.)

While in Nauvoo, I had reread these writings to highlight some of the locations that they mentioned along the way.  Chimney Rock was one of those locations so I pulled them out to read what they had written while we were standing at this very spot.

First was my great-grandfather:

"June 11"----and then I started to cry.  In all of my planning for our trip and my review of the journal in Nauvoo and in the months before--I didn't make the connection.  My great grandfather made this entry on June 11 and there we stood 164 years later ON JUNE 11!!! It couldn't have been more perfect and being unplanned and unnoticed until that very moment as I began to read was so overpowering and I cried (and even as I type this I am crying again.) It was a powerful moment and one I will never forget. "June 11 Traveled til about 1 Oclock and came in Sight of Chimney Rock. One of Nature's great curiosities, days drive, about 18 M's & camped."

They then stayed in camp on Sunday, June 12, as was his custom and those he traveled with.  Then he wrote:

"June 13  We passed the Chimney Rock about 10 Oclock But drove on to within a Short distance of Scotts Bluff and camped, day's drive about 16 Ms."

For us, traveling down modern highways and in a gas powered vehicle--we made the journey from seeing the Chimney Rock to being there in a short 20 minutes or so.  Regardless, he and we had first seen the Chimney Rock on June 11.  I have never met my great grandfather.  He died in 1917.  My grandfather, Robert, was his 12th child out of 15.  My grandpa passed away when I was four, so I have only a few memories of him.  But at the moment, standing at the Chimney Rock, I felt them all close with me (a feeling that lasted the rest of the journey) and I felt like I will recognize them someday in the future when I leave here (earth) and travel to where they are and somehow...I felt like B. F. and Jane knew that I was there to walk near where they walked and to honor them as their grand-granddaughter.  This place now is holy ground for me.

My modern copies of their writings
My great grandfather's journal is actually in a museum in Lane County, Oregon.

My great-great uncle John wrote his story in verse:

"We saw "chimney rock" a very great sight
For it stood a column of wonderful height
The top had been broken and so tumbled down
And lay there, scattered, all over the ground."

Unfortunately, pioneer travel was difficult and people died along the way.  Some were buried here or in unmarked graves along the trail.

The countryside view over the valley to the north....

 It was hard to leave this spot.  If I had been alone, I probably would have sat for hours and felt the feelings that I was feeling of family and history and our connections to the past and to the future....but it was approaching night and we needed to find our own campsite for the evening.

And the feelings traveled with me................