Over the next three weeks, we'll be featuring Dale Schwamborn's account of the 1965 "See America First" tour of the American West. Two weeks ago, Dale learned he'd be embarking on another great adventure - with a very special guest. Last week, the group visited three majestic Western locations.
Grand Tetons: July 6-13, 1965
If Atlas were to become indifferent to his duty of fending off the enclosing heavens, he could find proxy in the Grand Tetons.
Rising above a 7000-foot base, the massive granite silently guides the four winds along their troubled paths. Jackson Hole has been synonymous with the Wild West for many years. Tourists have marveled at its rugged beauty; trappers, in their quest for pelts, have been challenged by God; and we, humble creatures below, could only pay tribute to their grandeur through silence.
As we floated down the Snake River, Lynda became engrossed with the wild flowers, the geological history of the region, and the many moose that we saw. The river winds its way through channels, skirting the beaver ponds through rapids with rugged banks and overhanging cliffs that challenged our two skilled keelers. Fittingly – proof that we were indeed in rarely-visited country – we saw a bald eagle soaring on pinions, steady and wise.
Later, we visited Yellowstone. We marveled at the bears rambling along highways, seeking food from passing tourists. Old Faithful performed right on time, spouting majestically. Other volcanic cauldrons not only provided a myriad of colors but extended an odoriferous reminder of the sulphuric gas that propagates this natural phenomenon.
Custer’s Battlefield: July 14, 1965
Cowboys and Indians had become a part of the heritage of the American youth, the fantasy of a growing nation. In reality, the United States 7th Cavalry bore little resemblance to Roy Rogers, Gene Autry, or Marshall Dillon in 1876. Under the command of General Custer, they met disaster at the Little Bighorn River. Immortalized in historical archives, Custer and the 7th were as meaningful to the younger generation as Jesse James, Wild Bill Hickock, or Wyatt Earp.
Our caravan overlooked the site of a Cheyenne and Sioux village that existed 90 years prior. At our doorstep were markers, mute reminders of the men that had fallen there. The still of the night brought forth visions of the past.
The battlefield has a beauty of its own, nestled in the rolling hills of Montana. But beauty was not the prime mover. Spending the night on hallowed grounds made a terrific impact, and made this a memorable stop.
As we sat under the stars wondering what life was like in Custer’s day, someone asked, “I wonder how Little Bighorn looked with over 2500 teepees?” One of the Secret Service men said he couldn’t visualize that many teepees, but he did know what 2500 Airstreams looked like.
Theodore Roosevelt National Park: July 15, 1965
Roosevelt, as a youth, was judged to be sickly and weak. He became strong working on a ranch in North Dakota. The struggle made him great. The Badlands of North Dakota offer tourists a beautiful rambling terrain set in wilderness. To the memory of Roosevelt’s youth, the park has been set aside.
Our small caravan parked in the south, on a green velvet plain surrounded by hills and inhabited by prairie dogs. The squealing creatures serenaded us until sunset, then welcomed the dawn with their curiosity. It took a pair of coyotes slinking through our colony in the early morning to send them scurrying into their burrows.
Our dinner was traditional: buffalo roast. Passing through the plains states without savoring this dish would have been like passing through Paris without experiencing snail.
Ely, Minnesota: July 17-23, 1965
At tour’s end, it was time for farewells. We’d seen America, and our journey had been a success. We parted, each with our own imperishable memories.
For each of us this was an exciting adventure, a statement of the greatness of our vast and bountiful nation. It was an invitation to all Americans to experience our great land, from sea to shining sea.
Pictured: Lynda Bird Johnson and Airstream grace the cover of National Geographic magazine's December, 1965 edition.
Dale “Pee Wee” Schwamborn has silver in his blood. Each week, Pee Wee shares one of his many stories, including his experiences on the iconic Airstream Caravans, his time spent working in the Airstream factory, and the many Airstreamers he’s befriended, far and wide.
This article is the final article in a three-part series. To read the other entries, click below.
