Stare at a Rembrandt every day, and it will fade into wallpaper. Habituation, a cruelty of the human psyche. Luxuries, awards, and pleasures lose their zing once we are accustomed to them. Married couples soon need a date night to remember why they fell in love. Paging through the lush new coffee table book Trails Across Missouri , I realized that if someone pasted over the title and told me these were photographs from the French countryside, or the rolling hills of Czechoslovakia, or small Renaissance towns in Italy, I would be enthralledβand want to go there.
No need to buy that transatlantic plane ticketβthese photos were taken right here, along the Katy and Rock Island trails. I know the backstory to this beauty because I wrote a biography of Ted and Pat Jones. But Ted loved farms and small towns, and he expanded the business until it dotted the entire country.
When he saw one of the first rails-to-trails projects, he decided Missouri needed one. And at precisely the same time, the railroad decided to abandon its right of way. What ensued was a long, hard fight. Farmers did not want city cyclists zipping through and trashing their land. Now they use the trail themselves, and so do their kids and grandkids. Visitors from every part of the world hike and cycle the Katy Trail, enjoying views once seen only by riverboat captains and railroad engineers.
Ted lived long enough to attend the dedication of the first section of the trail, ill with cancer and supported by his marvelously eccentric, brilliant wife. Pat was the first female grad of the Mizzou ag college, a fierce environmentalist and an expert on our vanished prairie, working to restore its ecosystem.
The Joneses spent large chunks of their lives trying, in various ways, to preserve and highlight the natural beauty of this state. Dan Burkhardt worked many years at Edward Jones; he traveled with Ted and came to admire his zest for life, his passionate causes.
