Cakeway to the West - Confessions of a Cakeaholic

butterfly at Cardinal Glennon Hospital

When I took my first photograph of one of the stl250 cakes back in March, I had no intention of trying to visit all 250 of them. I figured I would snap pictures as I came across the cakes, as I did with the "Wings in the City" butterflies back in 2011, and the cat and dog sculptures of "The Harry and Hanley Project" in 2013. Little did I know that the call of the cakes would pull me in like the smell of hot, buttered popcorn at a movie theater. And like that box of popcorn, I would not be able to stop until they were all gone. Soon I was planning my days around cake hunting. And at night I dreamed of cakes. I even made a t-shirt showcasing a few of my favorite cakes. I am not alone in this obsession. There are over 1,700 of us in just one of the Facebook groups, sharing tips, trials and support in addition to photos. Through the group I have attended picnics, a group photo op, a wine and canvas party, discussions of possible books, and the camaraderie of folks just as excited about the hunt as me.

my t-shirt front

my t-shirt back

 

They are the ones who understand that we could adopt "Ain't No Mountain High Enough" as our theme song. "Ain't no mountain high enough, ain't no valley low enough, ain't no river wide enough..." to keep us from our cakes. From as far west as Warrenton, Missouri to the eastern reaches of Carlyle, Illinois; from the northern point of Hardin, Illinois to the southern point of Sullivan, Missouri, the 250 cakes were a challenge for even the most sophisticated GPS system or smart phone. But help was always just one Facebook post away. Can't find a cake? Post the question on the Facebook page. Want to know if there are other cakes in the area? Where to park? Or how about a good place to eat while you are there? One of the cakers would always reply, usually within minutes of the post.

Mainly I traveled alone on my treks, though my husband did accompany me a couple of times and a friend and I planned several excursion together. My niece accompanied me on one of the Illinois adventures. I don't even want to know how many miles I put on my car, though a fellow caker said she had documented 5,000 miles! Is that possible? Perhaps...But here is what I do know. Through the Cakeway to the West cake hunt I have experienced more of the greater St. Louis area in six months than in the 36 years I have lived here. I have pushed my comfort level on multiple occasions. I have been to sites that I did not know even existed, and re-visited places I had not been to in years. I have met some incredible people both in the caker group and at the cake locations, and have been privileged to meet several of the cake artists.

Facebook caking friends

Last Sunday, over 50 of us from the Facebook group, and one of the artists, met at the Malcolm W. Martin Memorial Park in East St. Louis for a group photo and breakfast. After that I headed north in Illinois to find my last five cakes. By 4:30 that afternoon I had accomplished what had initially seemed impossible. I had visited and photographed all 250 cakes. Like some of the others in the 250 Club, I have mixed emotions about the journey being over. (Though as of right now 251 cakes have been placed, and rumor has it that there will be 254 before it is all said and done. I haven't decided if I will get any of the rest, because to me it takes away from the whole 250 theme.) There are still a few frame of reference shots that I want to take, and I think getting some fall and winter photos of the cakes would be fun as well.

my 250th cake in Hardin, Illinois

As I have been doing research in preparation for putting together a book about my cake walk, I have come to understand what a truly remarkable area we live in. The history of the city, the buildings and the people who once called St. Louis home are inspiring. And I think that was the goal of the Cakeway to the West project. I would call it a success!

Fall Colors and More

The fall colors in our area have not been as outstanding as in past years, but nevertheless this is my favorite season and I like going for a drive to photograph the changing landscape. We decided to combine a fall drive with a genealogy trip, something I am not able to talk my husband into very often. But he doesn't mind visiting cemeteries, so he was okay with coming along for the ride to an old cemetery. I have been tugging on a branch of my dad's tree recently, and found a link to some ancestors who are buried in the Denson Pioneer Cemetery located just north of Ursa, Illinois. The Hightower family can be traced back to early Virginia in the 1600s, and beyond that to the 1500s in England and Ireland. Of course, there is the small matter that I have to prove the lineage.

George Hightower, my fourth great-grandfather, and his family moved from Virginia to Kentucky sometime before the 1800 census was taken. George and his wife then moved to Ursa, Illinois prior to 1840, and two of their six adult children also moved there during this time period. I found the burial information on the on the website findagrave.com. I highly recommend this website if you haven't already checked it out. Volunteers are photographing headstones, transcribing them and putting them on this website. It is very helpful in corroborating death dates and/or locating exactly where your ancestors are buried. Often family associations are listed in the description of the deceased as well.

Kirby in the pumpkin patch

We took a leisurely drive to Ursa on Sunday, stopping whenever the mood struck to take photographs. I feel fortunate that my husband is just as enthusiastic about taking pictures as I am. Otherwise, one of us would not have been having a good time yesterday. We took the dog along, and he is definitely not as enamored with pausing for photo ops. He also did something at the cemetery that probably has resulted in him not going along for the ride in the future. More on that below.

The fall colors actually seemed a little prettier the further north we traveled. The area near Hannibal was the nicest I have seen anywhere this fall. Mark Twain would definitely have had something to write about had he been looking at the beautiful colors this weekend.

Denson Pioneer Cemetery sign

We arrived at the cemetery shortly after lunch. I am glad that the findagrave website included instructions on how to get to it, as I have no doubt I would have been unable to locate it on my own. You exit the county highway onto a tractor path to reach the small cemetery, which is completely surrounded by cornfields. The farmer had already mowed down the corn stalks, which made me wonder if you could even see the cemetery during the spring and summer months. I wasn't sure exactly where my family members were buried in the cemetery but I needn't have worried as it is quite small.  We found the headstones rather quickly. The state of the stones is quite sad, and not just the ones belonging to my ancestors. You can tell that a veterans group (most likely) is replacing the stones of the men who served in the Civil War, as they look pretty new. But many of the remaining stones are broken and/or toppled over. I don't think it is vandalism but instead is the result of years of the elements taking their toll on the limestone or sandstone markers. Here are the stones of George and his wife, Frances Ann (Hall) Hightower, along with their son Austin and his wife Mary (Caldwell) Hightower. Also we found George and Frances Ann's daughter Mary and her husband John Riddel. And while we were photographing the stones, the dog decided to take a roll in the hay, so to speak. Unfortunately it wasn't hay but horse manure he found. Why someone was riding a horse in this precious cemetery is anyone's guess. Let me just say that it was an extremely long ride home with a smelly dog.

Mary Hightower

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Austin Hightower

John Riddel

Mary Riddel

Frances Ann Hightower

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

George Hightower