Toughness comes in many flavors. On one hand, I’m pretty tough–look at how far I’m willing and able to walk on a daily basis! Can’t argue with that. On the other, I’m a total softie when it comes to being dirty. I’m fine with one or two nights of camping, but I’ll move heaven and earth to avoid having three straight. The people who make this kind of walk going a week or more between hotel visits have my absolute respect. Cheap as I am, I can’t pass up a good hotel shower when it’s on offer.
Having said that, the ADT’s approach through Eastern Nebraska poses some challenges. The route generally parallels the Platte River as it moves westward. I80 does the same, passing to the north of the river. Not coincidentally, most of the sizable towns–and hotels–are also situated up there. In order to avoid the freeway, then, the ADT stays south of the Platte. As a consequence, it also bypasses a lot of those services–as well as some interesting sights.
For that reason, I split from the ADT today in order to cross the Platte, land a cheap hotel room, and take care of some laundry. That would have held me to the highway all day, but I made the decision last night to instead follow the railroad tracks southwest from Stromsburg to Polk, getting me through the first half of the walk in total solitude. It’s odd, but there’s a certain authenticity that comes from walking the rails, even if the ties are spaced at the most inconvenient intervals possible for my stride.
Even better than this opening segment, though, was the walk’s final leg, when I joined the Dark Island Trail to cross the Platte. The name itself, while ominous enough, comes from the Pawnee name for a nearby island, Lolawakohtito, one of the five sacred sites of the Pawnee people. And while it would be easy to feel like the trail moved through the middle of nowhere, this was once a tremendously consequential crossroads. An informational sign notes that in the mid-1800s, the Oregon, California, Mormon, and Fort Kearney Trails all passed through here.
It’s much less crowded today. Most of the traffic is down on the river, as a bunch of locals were merrily spending their Saturday driving Jeeps around the Platte River–through the river. Another informational sign provides important context: “The Platte River,” it notes, “has been described in folklore as ‘a mile wide and an inch deep.’” And indeed, the original highway bridge was a full mile in length, though the pedestrian bridge I crossed today was a fifth that length. By one accounting, the Platte’s total flow has been diminished to a quarter of what it once enjoyed, with 70% of it being removed or socked away in reserves.
This isn’t a case of historical myth not standing up to contemporary scrutiny. The Platte River has shrunk and continues to do so. Immigration in Nebraska certainly had an impact, but the river’s repeated diversions, particularly in support of Colorado’s voracious demands, have outpaced the aquifer.
When I crossed from Kansas to Colorado on my first foray on the ADT, I also had cause to write about these matters, focusing in particular on the decline of the Ogallala Aquifer. The aquifer’s name, it turns out, comes from Ogallala, Nebraska, a town on the ADT just after the point where I’ll split onto the Oregon Trail. Interestingly, the decline of the Ogallala Aquifer and the Platte River are separate matters. The Platte runs below the aquifer’s water level, and thus it doesn’t help to recharge the aquifer–instead carrying groundwater out of the region. Even if it could, though, the intense strain on the Platte limits its ability to even keep the lights on in its own home at this point.
In each of the last two summers, the Platte essentially dried out. And in the meantime, relations between Nebraska and Colorado are growing increasingly tense, with Nebraska planning to build a $628-million canal on the state border to keep more of the Platte’s waters in Nebraska. Maybe this is a glimpse of the future–border disputes not involving the US and Mexico, but rather between American states, fighting over diminishing water resources. At least the Jeep drivers will be happy, though. And if there’s enough water left over for my shower, I suppose I will be, too.
