Nebraskaland

48 Nebraskaland • May 2022 MIXED BAG Capital cities of most states are on vital transportation routes — rivers, railroads, highways. Or perhaps where there is the promise of wealth from abundant resources — lumbering, mining, water. But then there's Lincoln, our capital city. Railroads and highways have to divert from the most obvious paths of least resistance — for example, the Platte Valley — to serve the second smallest city in the state. There's certainly no river traffic on Salt Creek. In fact, not only is water not a Lancaster County asset, it's a major problem. Lincoln's water has to be piped in from Platte River sands from Ashland 30 miles to the north, the subsurface water at Lincoln not being suitable for drinking, and in fact, not even being usable to water lawns or cool generators. Some smarties out there already know where I'm going with this; some of the rest of you may have spotted a clue a couple of lines above. Lincoln is here precisely because of its water. Or, perhaps I should say, what's in the water. There are hints all around us: Salt Creek … Saline County … Saltillo …. And less obvious in place names like Boy Scout Camp Miniskuya at the southwestern edge of the city, Miniskuya being the Lakota word for salt water. To this day, the Omaha Tribe knows Lincoln by the name Nithskithe — "Salt." It's hard to imagine these days, when tons of salt are spread on our streets and highways to remove ice and snow and dietitians warning us to limit the sodium in our foods, but before huge salt plugs were mined in Kansas and salt could be scooped up by giant loaders from the Utah salt flats, salt was a rare and valuable commodity. There were phrases like "worth his salt," a reference to a time when a man's day's work could be paid with a small amount of the mineral. Plains tribes traveled great distances to come to the salt "lick" now known as Capital Beach, to dust salt from thin surface deposits with feather brushes and carry it back to tribal homes in deerskin bags. Efforts to extract salt commercially with evaporation "pans" were never very successful, but one year in Lincoln's early development, 62 tons of salt were extracted from the Lincoln flats. When I was a boy, it was to be a great adventure to ride the city bus "way west of the city" to Capital Beach amusement park and swim in the natural salt water swimming pool, filled from what some believed to be a vast salt water ocean under Lancaster County. My father used to tell me about an artesian well of salt water on the northeast corner of Ninth and O streets, where newcomers were welcomed to refresh themselves and their horses with a big gulp of the clear sparkling water, immediately to be spat out on the pavement when the joke was realized. Salt is an important part of our geology, history and culture. And it is easily seen, as much today as ever. Next time you are on I-80 between Capital Beach Lake and the south end of the Lincoln airport runways on a hot, dry summer day, glance quickly to the north. See that white dusting on the ground on the other side of the fence? It's Niskithe! Salt! And the reason for Lincoln. Roger Welsch is a folklorist, humorist and author who lives in Dannebrog. PASS THE SALT By Roger Welsch When the soil dries, the concentration of salt becomes obvious — a crust of salt that forms on the surface. CHRIS HELZER

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