Travel Living in Missouri ~ Cheryl Yale-Bruedigam

Purchasing an old farm-type house (sight unseen) in a rural town of about three hundred people located in Missouri near the Iowa state line, my husband and I arrived to a Midwest experience in “travel living”.

From the moment we pulled into town we were on-camera. People were coming out of the woodwork to see the strangers from California (though we kept telling them it was Oregon, they were determined that we had come from California). Cars of elderly women straining to see, were driving by slowly as we moved into the rambling old house.

Never were we so friendly and readily welcomed into a community. Within six months our son was born and we received everything from home baked cakes and pies to handmade baby quilts and blankets to cash money to groceries and diapers, and I had become the only member of the local garden club under sixty five years of age.

Missouri proved a most beautiful state in which to live. The rich farmlands, the Missouri and Mississippi Rivers, mound-builders, crops of corn as far as the eye could see, small town living, neighbors, cookouts, river hiking and exploring, and most admirably the beauty of the seasons.

Winters were harsh, deeply cold, long and like a magical wonderland. Christmas felt like Christmas (verses oh say, my Christmas in Hawaii or many southern Christmases spent with the windows open). After such long winters, spring was dearly appreciated and welcomed in its return. Summers spilled forth with the bounty of fresh garden vegetables, canning, apples, grapes, and the sweetest corn-on-the-cob there ever was. Country life in Missouri was like doing time with the Waltons. Craft fairs, country fairs, fall harvest dances were all a part of rural Missouri life.

Day trips included a short journey north to Des Moines or south to Kansas City where shopping malls and fine dining were a much welcomed treat after months in such a rural area. On one trip we went down to St. Louis to the cross the Mississippi, then up a ways to Mark Twain’s Hannibal. In the summer it was down to the Ozark Lakes and the Branson area for swimming, recreation and fun on the town. Canoeing was an enjoyable activity as well.

It rained a lot in Missouri and my husband spent much time out in the fields or combing riverbanks after a fresh rain in search of Indian arrowheads and artifacts which were commonly found in the area and also learning why some thought the word Missouri meant “muddy water” though according to Missouri state history, “Missouri gets its name from a tribe of Sioux Indians of the state called the Missouris. The word "Missouri" often has been construed to mean "muddy water" but the Smithsonian Institution Bureau of American Ethnology has stated it means "town of the large canoes," and authorities have said the Indian syllables from which the word comes mean "wooden canoe people" or "he of the big canoe." “ Either is appropriate because there is a lot of water and a lot of mud.

At a later point in time we spent about four months in the northeastern area of Missouri near Kirksville in a small rural hamlet consisting mostly of an Amish community. It was not uncommon to see buggies with their horses on the road or tied even in a larger town in the parking lot of a Walmart. The Kirksville area was wooded and hilly and charming. Country and town folk were just as friendly as their western counterparts and as we discovered many still bartered for things like firewood, services or just some neighborly help with this or that.

And speaking of the Amish, a favorite day trip was to Jamesport, Missouri, right in the heart of Missouri’s Amish country. Jamesport is one of the most charming small towns one could hope to visit in America idealizing the very notion this country was founded upon and demonstrating the self-sufficiency required by our ancestors to survive. With a mild yet confident demeanor, it is almost humbling to be in the presence of the Amish. They possess a peaceful look and aura that is unique to their faith and their communities. They are master-crafters, seamstresses, quilters, doll-makers, furniture makers and fantastic cooks of German foods. There is nothing quite like eating in one of the local restaurants and experiencing the herbs and spices in their preparations or stopping in one of their general stores full of beeswax candles, jars of canned goods and home-spun fabric. Most of the actual Amish-run places are on the outside of town and scattered throughout the farm roads.

In town, the local businesses run by local residents offer their own unique blend of Amish, artesian and back-country goods. It is an antique-hunter’s paradise full of true country treasures. Shops are filled with heavenly-scented candles, spices, soaps and gifts. Christmas gifts abound and strolling the quaint streets window-shopping is a real treat as horse-drawn buggies pass by. Where else will you see a blacksmith’s shop or a harness shop? Plan to spend the day, Jamesport is a rare find.

Travel life in Missouri was filled with the simplicities almost no longer imaginable, from sitting on a broad old front porch sipping homemade wine while watching children chase lightening bugs to long winter nights filled with needle-work.

When I left Missouri, I took with me a newfound appreciation for neighbors and community and the simple life that had not been experienced elsewhere in my journeys. Missouri instilled a love of community, basic living and nature’s harvest. Muddy or not, it holds a top spot in my traveler’s heart as do its people, the friendliest I have ever found.