With the temperature rising, and the route uncertain, I make another early morning departure. I am headed to Leavenworth, Kansas’ first city. To get there, I will have to navigate the valley lands of the Missouri River, a military base and several prisons—including the nation’s first federal penitentiary. I had intended to take the River Road, but Drew—who works maintenance at St. Scholastica, warned against it: “There are big ruts. Even cars have a hard time with it.”
So quickly I make a plan B: travel south before cutting west to the Missouri River. Grateful for the help, and the thoughtful reflections about the value and meaning of prairies, I bid adieu to Sister McCracken and Sister Carrillo, and set off.
The first several miles are on an old county highway that is blissfully free of traffic. As usual, there are many reminders of the iconic significance many ascribe to these lands.
There are also plenty of ‘historical markers.’ This one introduced my destination.
I found it odd that such a sign would exist 13 miles away. Fort Leavenworth does loom large in dominant American imaginaries, so perhaps one is supposed to imagine its presence from miles away. The second oldest U.S. Army military post west of Washington DC, it was established in 1827 to protect the Santa Fe Trail, a main route used to settle what this sign calls the “Indian frontier.” It now occupies a massive 5, 600 acres. Although from the public road I was cycling, most of it is hidden behind sheltering bluffs. My main clue that I had arrived was the sound of shots ringing out from a firing range.
What one can see is Fort Leavenworth Prison, and imposing 19th century building positioned between Fort Leavenworth and the city of Leavenworth. It is the first federal prison ever built.
Today, Leavenworth is a city of prisons. It currently has five, including the Army’s only maximum security military barracks. The federal prison is also being rebuilt using $532 million of federal funds. This is the second largest federal investment in Kansas (the largest was the $1.2 billion National Bio and Agro-Defense Facility in Manhattan, KS).
Coming into town, I am also struck by streets names. Almost all the ones I see are named after Native peoples.
When I stop for lunch I ask my server why this is.
“Because there is so much Native culture in the area,” he responds.
“But there is not,” I reply.
The U.S. army used Fort Leavenworth to enact the Indian Removal Act of 1830. Many Native peoples were forced off their homelands in the East and marched West. Tens of thousands died. Those that lived were forced onto reservations, and subjected to missionaries and schools that attempted to suppress their cultures. Once white settlers decided the prairie lands of Kansas were not the Great American Desert, but prime farming land, many again faced forced removal, this time to present day Oklahoma. Again, many died.
Today, Native peoples—like the Kaw, for whom the state is named—are buying back land and bringing Indigenous ways of life back to Kansas.
In 2002, the Kaw bought back 168 acres of their traditional lands in Kansas and established Allegawaho Park
However, as far as I know, Leavenworth is not an active site of this work. Instead, it is where the U.S. government imprisoned many Native peoples as part of their forced removal policies.
My server—who is sporting the hat and shirt of a local sports team, and probably wishes we were talking sports—concedes.
“You are right. They forced Native peoples off this land, and all that remained were their names.”
I appreciate our unsettling conversation about a topic that is rarely discussed in Kansas. These histories have been all but erased. Growing up here, I did not learn them. When I began this project, I could not even name the Native nations that currently are in Kansas.
Biking across the land—seeking out the histories and presents of prairies—helps to cultivate the mutual curiosity needed to begin to speak these silences.
Filled with some of the best food I have had in all my miles of cycling Kansas, I end this segment of my travels on the banks of the Missouri River.
I stop to contemplate its full banks. It was a wet spring. However, Kansas is currently in a severe drought, and some in the state are dreaming of a pipeline to siphon off these waters to sustain the state’s industrial agriculture. Whiskey and I head West next week to learn more.