Wednesday, September 02, 2015 – Mequon, Wisconsin to Prophetstown, Illinois (180 miles)
Andy made crepes for breakfast. We loaded them up with raspberries. I mean we gorged ourselves with raspberries. We have so many. We picked eleven pounds yesterday.
We took our time getting Sao ready for the road while the boys were playing in the pool and running around outside. When I moved Sao forward in the driveway to get the car connected, the boys realized that we were preparing to leave. They were a little upset, but forgot about it when we did not actually pull out of the driveway. Cam wanted to help us connect the car. After some hugs and kisses we got on the road at 1017, earlier than expected.
It was an easy, pleasant drive. We headed southwest from Milwaukee on I-43 and then turned south on I-39 at Beloit. At Rockford, we moved over to US20 and followed the Rock River to Prophetstown. We stopped in the Illinois welcome center for lunch of leftover burger and bean casserole. Delicious.
We are spending the night in Prophetstown State Park, right on the Rock River. When we registered, Andy asked the campground host if there was a pull-through site so we would not have to disconnect the car to back into a site. The host, Carl, said there were not many people in the park and we could just pull across two or three sites, parallel to the road.
We had a pleasant chat with Carl, who has been campground host here for 20 years. He is 84 and also a Korean War veteran, although he was never in combat. He worked on supply lines. Andy told him that he earned his Korean War Veteran status serving in Germany.
There are only a few (two or three) other campsites occupied tonight. We headed out for our walk as soon as Sao was plugged in and the slides slid out. Here is Sao parked across two sites.
This is the view forward. There are woods on both sides of us.
As I was driving toward Prophetstown, I mused that it is a strange name for the town and wondered who the prophet was. As we were taking our walk around the park, we came upon this statue, carved from a tall tree stump.
Aha! I bet that is the prophet. I Googled it.
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Prophetstown was named for Wabokieshiek (White Cloud), the prophet who lived upon the land. Wabokieshiek served as an advisor to Black Hawk and took part in the Black Hawk War. Wabokieshiek and his followers, the Sauk Indians, resided where the current Prophetstown State Park (of Illinois) is now located. They left the land in 1832 as the Black Hawk War ended, when Wabokieshiek was taken captive by the United States. This area is now a state park, but at one time it held a community of 14 villages.
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
This drawing of White Cloud was published in 1848.
Wabokieshiek (translated White Cloud, The Light or White Sky Light in English,though Waapakiishik in the Sauk language means “White Sky”) (c. 1794 – c. 1841) was an important Native American of the Ho-Chunk (Winnebago) and Sauktribes in 19th century Illinois, playing a key role in the Black Hawk War of 1832. Known as a medicine man and prophet, he is sometimes called the Winnebago Prophet.
Wabokieshiek was born as Poweshiek to a Sauk father and a Ho-Chunk mother in the vicinity of Prophetstown, Illinois, which is named after him. Like his father, he was considered a Sac chief, and was also very influential among the Ho-Chunk, and he was known for his promotion of a traditional way of life among the local tribes. However, his influence waned after he promised/prophesied to Sauk/Fox chief Black Hawk that the British and other tribes (such as the Ho-Chunk and Potawatomi) would aid him against the United States in what became the Black Hawk War, a prediction that proved false. At the end of the war, on August 27, 1832, Wabokieshiek was taken prisoner along with the remnant of Black Hawk’s band. The prisoners were sent to Washington D.C. (meeting with Andrew Jackson) and then to Fort Monroe, Virginia in April, 1833. On June 5, 1833, they were sent back West to be released; Wabokieshiek and his son were released at Prairie du Chien, Wisconsin. After this time, he lived quietly until he died circa 1841.
Now I am thinking about camping in a place that used to be Sauk villages. I wonder how many generations. Nothing is left of them here, There is no sign that they were ever here except a statue carved from a tree stump.
We walked along the riverbank. Downstream: