Lewis and Clark: Reflections

I was walking about this morning, shoring up details from two weeks gone by... still having snow tires on my car, sifting through mail, 'haying' the lawn that a landscaping company we'd hired to mow forgot about while we were away, prepping for an upcoming conference next week... and I realized I was whistling a song I heard from many moons ago, a song written by one of the more extraordinary guitar players about I think, a fellow named Tommy Emmanuel: A song called 'Lewis and Clark'.

The song always had a haunting melody for me of sorts... one that captures that Western rolling plain spirit, a sense of adventure, almost bewilderment for me... a free spirited, floating melody...

Emmanuel himself explained the origin of the song in a concert I saw a bit like this:

In between concerts I needed to get out of the hotel and, asking a local what to do, he suggested I walk part of the Lewis and Clark trail nearby. Asking politely, who Lewis and Clark were... I had to explain that I was from Australia... and we just didn't talk about Lewis and Clark Down Under. The chap graciously explained what the adventure was about to me and I set out to see the portion of the trail and the visitors center. I was so inspired by the whole thing. The idea of heading out, two people, across an unknown part of the country, of new country, the role of their Indian guide, Sacagawea, and that pioneering spirit. I went back to the hotel and wrote this song.

I spoke to many players on the Cannons on what travel was like across the badlands, the great plains, the grasslands back in the day. I encouraged many on our trip to look at the rolling grass in the breeze... how it moved. How the big sky can swallow you up... fields open for hundreds of miles, the looming storms we saw on the horizon, traveling in wagons, on horses... for hundreds of miles... new horizons. For may of the players, this was their first trip West... and they could feel it.

Buffalo on the hillside over the Cheyenne River Valley

Cheyenne River Valley

I spoke to a few at a rest stop we landed upon on a hillside above the Lewis and Clark bridge over the Missouri River. Imagine coming over the hillside, seeing the Missouri river in a day when there were no buildings, no cars, planes... seeing a herd of Buffalo in the distance...

It's inspiring stuff. The sort that hopefully inspires many of these young folks to see the world... to appreciate the depth and trials of history that brought us to this point.

Emmanuel's song here, to me anyway, captures some essence of that adventurous, hopeful spirit, the big sky, the open plains... Who knows what it might conjure up in the hearts and minds of the folks on our trip. Enjoy!