Spring Freshet

The year was 1993, and my family was making its first-ever journey in the covered wagon minivan across the American Midwest to visit the Little House sites. I will never forget the thrill of excitement I experienced on that first trip, as the images formed in my mind over the years from Laura’s descriptions in the Little House books melded with the scenery I beheld with my own eyes for the first time. The true vastness of those flat prairies was previously unimaginable to this girl who had grown up in the Mountain State.

There was one little issue however that made our trip a little different. Remember the Midwest Floods of 1993? We hoped that would not have too much impact on our vacation, and it didn’t until we reached Walnut Grove, Minnesota. Our first stop was the museum in town, and there we were told, “You can drive out to the Plum Creek site and see if it’s open, but it’s probably not. He’s had to have it closed for several days now due to the flooding.”

We drove out, hoping beyond hope that the floodwaters had receded and the site was open, but alas, a large “Closed due to Floods” sign met us upon our arrival.

Well, we didn’t drive a thousand miles to be turned away by a sign and a rope.  Nothing daunted, we parked the car, got out, and started walking down the gravel roadway, figuring we would at least see anything that could be seen, despite the water. I’m so glad we did, and though it seemed so disappointing at the time, I’m now glad we had the unique experience of viewing Plum Creek at flood stage. I’ve since had plenty of opportunities to see Plum Creek the way it should look; I may never again see it flooded.

The water spilled out across the fields, turning Plum Creek into a lake. The footbridge stood in the middle of the water, and we could see little signs poking up here and there in the distance. But when we saw the dugout depression site, something suddenly clicked.

“Spring freshet!” I cried out, indicating the title of Chapter 14 of On the Banks of Plum Creek. “Pa was right; he said the water would never reach the dugout as it would spill over the edges of the other bank, and look — he was right.”

Sure enough, despite the horrendous flood, the dugout (or the depression left by it, rather) stood high and dry on the high bank of the creek, while the water spilled out over the low bank. Even in this most disastrous of floods, the Ingalls family would have remained safe in their little dugout on the creek bank.

The footbridge leading to the dugout site across the creek

Plum Creek in flood stage