Meager beginnings

This little mound is of historic significance.

I’m staring at a mound of rock and dirt, maybe 50 feet at its highest. It’s nothing to look at. Just volcanic rock thatched with brittle-dry grasses and weeds. It’s quite small. Nothing spectacular at all, nestled in the shadows of magnificent rolling and folded hills just outside Kamiah, Idaho.

But it is important. Historic.

It is the Heart of the Monster, the birthplace of all human beings, the last of which were the Niimiipu, translated as “The People.”

We know them as the Nez Perce, translated as Pierced Nose, so named by French Canadian fur traders in the 18th century, who actually confused them with another people who pierce their noses. The Niimiipu didn’t. Still don’t.

For the past two weeks, we’ve camped on land owned by the Niimiipu, and engaged with multiple sites historic to The People, sites maintained by the Nez Perce National Historic Park. The park includes 38 sites in four states —  Idaho, Montana, Oregon and Washington — and follows The People’s trail.

Along the way is this beginning, the Heart of the Monster, this little chunk of land I walked a half a mile in 114-degree heat to see.

It’s so unimpressive. Nondescript.  If I didn’t know the story.

It reminds me of another unimpressive chunk of significant history, Plymouth Rock. Been there? It’s laughably small, big enough for one person to step foot on. I know that story, too.

I think of that rock and this mound and the ironic connection. Historic.