One of the exciting things about the American Discovery Trail from a historical perspective is how it overlaps with so many long-distance routes that were pivotal to the formation of the United States–things like the Pony Express, the Oregon Trail, and the Mormon Trail. Thus, the process of walking westward on the ADT is to relive those earlier journeys (hopefully without the dysentery).
That said, I haven’t experienced that directly along my walk thus far, or at least I’ve been crushingly unaware of it if such a thing occurred, so I’ve been eager to track it down. That made this morning so propitious and exciting, as a major landmark was just a handful of miles down the road–the Lincoln Boyhood National Memorial. That memorial, preserved with care in a densely wooded area adjacent to a high school, features Lincoln’s childhood farm, where he lived and worked between the ages of 7 and 21. While the cabin he lived in is long gone, the foundation has been preserved, and a representative structure can be visited. I was there early, when I had the park to myself, and so I apparently missed seeing the park rangers dressed in period clothing. I’ll try to get over it.
Down the trail from the cabin is the grave of Nancy Hanks Lincoln, Abe’s mom, and a sandstone memorial telling stories from Lincoln’s life. One quote stood out to me: “We must not be enemies, though passion may have strained it must not break our bonds of affection.”
I head along the gravel road to Gentryville, as Lincoln himself did on many occasions. Sitting outside the gas station there, drinking an iced tea, I offer greetings to a man as he heads into the shop. On his way back, he takes interest in me and strikes up a conversation. After all of the normal pleasantries, he begins sharing the history of the area: “they say there’s buried gold nearby. Back in the Spanish-American War, the story goes, a trader came by town to buy some horses, in support of the Spanish. Some locals found out about this and ganged up to kill him; they never did find his gold.” He transitions to Lincoln and as he does so another local passes by–”well you know all about that memorial, don’t you?” “Sure do. I helped to make it back in the ‘60s, moving all of the things into place.”
They head off about their day and I hit the road, conveniently enough called the Lincoln Trail Road. As Abe and his family headed off to Illinois in his 21st year, they followed this road, spending their last night in the area at the home of Colonel William Jones. I sit on the steps for a bit, waving as a woman passes by.
45 minutes later, the woman returns once more, pausing to ask me what I’m doing. She’s way more excited than I am. “That’s amazing!” she beams, then gives me a fist bump. I mean, yeah, I guess it’s pretty cool. “I saw you walking before and wondered what was going on, but this is way cooler than I imagined.”
While I’m following Lincoln’s route of egress from Indiana, that’s not to suggest that he hadn’t previously had cause to travel these roads. Indeed, he traveled to Boonville on many occasions to sit in the courthouse and listen to trials. It’s for this reason that Boonville likes to take credit as the place that Lincoln learned the law.
I’m well en route to Boonville myself when another car pulls up alongside me. A woman holds out a cold bottle of Vitamin Water. “We saw you walking out in this heat and thought you might like a drink. Have a blessed day.”
I don’t make it inside the courthouse to watch any trials, but the old courthouse certainly holds pride of place in the Boonville town square, one of the nicest I’ve seen on my trip so far.
Technical Notes:
- No ADT waymarks today
- The gas station in Gentryville has a decent little store and is right at the turnoff for the Lincoln Trail
