Landscapes, except where marred by some human maltreatment, show perfect harmony in all their parts, and I submit Kansas, without lofty mountains or awe-inspiring canyons, as a thing of beauty composed of placid forms. It was created less violently than some other parts of the world but by forces just as relentless and just as exciting. ~ John Mark Jewett, Kansan
So often I've seen the signs for little museums and other interesting, or not, tourist stops along major freeways but have never stopped. Freeways, in my opinion, seem to have ruined the great American roadtrip, making everything the same across the country. Sure, convenience is everywhere, but individuality is lost as there's a McDonald's, or the like, in every town across the country.

Regardless, as I saw the sign for the High Plains Museum in Goodland, Kansas, I decided to stop. After all, why not, it might be interesting to see a museum that so few stop for a respite from the freeway.

The museum is not well marked, but we ultimately found it behind the world's largest Van Gogh painting. I was surprised by this as well, but was certainly not one to question the logic of the citizens of great state of Kansas. Instead, I was happy to just go and enjoy their museum.

The High Plains Museum, which is by donation only, is a great place to enjoy. And, quite frankly, some of the items in the museum are quite astounding. For instance, I was totally surprised by the relics of the ice age. But, still more impressive, were the photos of the Dust Bowl and the storms that hit the small town at that time.

These pictures were incomprehensible for me; I could not believe that such clouds of sand and dust could actually hit, and bury in many cases, the communities of the plains. I learned about these things in school, but I guess they never really sunk in because my jaw dropped when I saw these amazing photographs.

I mean, people actually died in these storms, and not just in the short term; there were several long term effects, like asthma, that people had to suffer through. Some of these sand storms were even believed to be as high as 8,000 feet. One storm in 1935, spotted from Denver and communicated to the Kansas, was described by a homeowner:

All we could do about it was sit in our dusty chairs, gaze at each other through the fog that filled the room and watch that fog settle slowly and silently, covering everything...in a thick, brownish gray blanket.
I was just amazed to think of what the residents of the area went through.

Another exhibit that caught my attention was, oddly enough, a diorama. Normally I blow by these things since they're nothing more than small models, but this one caught my attention for some odd reason. Maybe it was because I saw the name on the same map that I saw the Monument Rocks, or maybe it was something else. But still, I was drawn in to read the events that unfolded in June of 1867.

The Kidder Massacre was a slaughter of small cavalry patrol, northeast of what is now Goodland, by an Indian war party. They were cornered and destroyed by the group of Indians and were all, save for a Sioux scout, scalped. Lt. Colonel George Custer discovered the site and that is now marked by a memorial marker and remembered through a display at the museum.

A little less on the horrific and controversial side of things, the museum also exhibits the first patented helicopter, or rather a replica of it. The item on display was built in 1976 from a photo and the original patent of the machine. Witnesses agree that it crashed, but some agree that it flew a short distance, possibly just picked up by the wind, before colliding with a nearby water tower.

The machine never flew again. Inventors William J. Purivs and Charles A. Wilson, with stock investors missing out on their investment, left town shortly after the debacle. The machine supposedly never flew again. Although, in truth, I'm not sure it ever truly flew at all from what I read on display.

Next to the museum is and old one-room school house that has its interiror replicated to look as it once did. The school is not totally open, but only visible through a pane of glass in a door. A small entry gives a history of the school as well as some interesting facts about education in the area around the turn of the century.

One of the most interesting things I read were the rules for the teachers in 1915. There was a list of twelve rules posted about how the teachers were required to live their lives. They included three items I found of particular interest:

1. You will not marry during the term of your contract
4. You may not loiter in downtown ice cream parlors
8. You may not dress in bright colors
The other nine were somewhat odd as well, like the rule about not dying your hair, but weren't as bizarre as these three in my mind. After all, as the man that I am, I couldn't ever imagine not allowing someone to hang out and have an ice cream with friends.

But, then again, maybe that's just how life was lived in Kansas away from the interstate freeways. It's difficult to say when so many things look the same off the huge thoroughfares that run across the country. And while we certainly can thank President Eisenhower for the ease of transportation and goods now, it also has made many parts of the country rather stale.

Well, that is unless you actually follow the brown signs and venture off the road to take a peak at what's around.