My Day As a Pioneer

I time traveled to the 1800s today. We visited the Laura Ingalls Wilder museum in Walnut Grove, Minnesota. We visited the banks of Plum Creek and saw the location of her sod house and picnicked and played. I didn't wear a bonnet or dress -- shorts and tank top were my attire in the 90 degree heat -- and our picnic didn't consist of 19th century foods -- unless they had Pringles and Chips Ahoy cookies and individually wrapped cheese sticks.

So. How did I time travel? What part of my experience made me feel as though I had left the 21st century behind? Well, see, apparently there is this tiny pocket of land in southwestern Minnesota that receives no AT&T coverage. None. Nada. Zilch. We were driving along through the quaint little towns of Hutchinson and New Ulm and my iphone would drop to a half bar or, even worse, flash Searching. Not that I was checking it while driving, of course. Goodness, no. Only at stoplights.....

I was OK with it at first. I drove past the endless corn fields and prairie, thinking I'd be fine once we got to the next town. But, no, things did not improve. In fact, the closer we got to Walnut Grove, the dicier service became. I think I actually gasped out loud when my phone read No Service.

I'll admit it. I panicked. Completely freaked out. Not because I was alone in the middle of nowhere without cell service -- we'd traveled down with three families, a nice little line of minivans and SUV's. Not because I was afraid of getting lost and the GPS feature on my phone was unusable. No. I was silently (I hope -- kids, did you hear anything?) cursing AT&T because I was out of touch. Unreachable. I had no access to phone...voice mail...text messages...email. Not just for a couple of minutes until we traveled to the next town, mind you. We had arrived. We were at our destination and I was unplugged.

What was I going to do? What if someone needed me? I had edits out; I had events in planning mode; I had Facebook messages! How was I going to survive hours without my connection to the outside world? The two friends who had Verizon (and thus service) were nonplussed. My other friend commiserated slightly; she had AT&T service, too. But her concern was that she wouldn't be able to communicate with the other cars as we were driving (this was valid, since we'd temporarily lost two of the moms on the way down).

I don't think I can count how many times I checked for service as we strolled through the buildings and grounds of the museum, hoping I could find a small spot that a cell service tower might reach. I was convinced it was there -- maybe to the left of the sod house, closest to the telephone line, or maybe in the center of the recreated prairie (yes, I did lift my phone skyward, hoping I might pick up on some random phone waves....). No luck.

We continued on to Plum Creek and I checked there, too. We were in the middle of some farmer's land, folding our $4 per car and inserting it into the tiny mailbox at the entrance of Laura's sod house site. Still nothing.

I gave up. I shoved my phone back in my pocket and settled down for our picnic lunch on the banks of Plum Creek. We spread blankets and munched sandwiches, swatted at bees and drank our lemonade. We chatted, we laughed. And, later, we explored the creek. We waded through the cool water and watched the minnows struggle upstream. We sank our feet into soft, squishy mud and squealed as it squelched between our toes. We found logs to crawl across and vines to swing on, out and over the creek.

We spent hours at the creek. Playing. Laughing. We listened to the birds sing and the bees buzz and the wind as it rustled through the willows and the tall prairie grass that lined the banks. It was beautiful. It was magical. I had the best time with my kids and friends. No distractions except what they and Mother Earth provided. I couldn't remember a better day.

We finally climbed back into the cars, soaked and mud-encrusted, sated and spent. I'd like to say that I kept my phone safely stowed, that I didn't check it until we got home. Um, no. I hadn't time-traveled that far. But, you know what? I'd go back...in a heartbeat. My day in the 1800's turned out pretty darn awesome.