Discovering the Real Lewis and Clark

By Stephen Koepp/Deputy Managing Editor

When you hear the word bicentennial, it brings to mind the year 1976, when Americans were painting everything red, white and blue. But there is an event just over the horizon that will bring fresh meaning to the word, a commemoration of a three-year saga that began in January 1803, when President Jefferson sent Congress a secret plan for exploring the "Western Ocean" and asked for $2,500 to finance the trip. The ensuing adventure of Lewis and Clark and their multicultural Corps of Discovery is such a defining American saga that we wanted to be second to none in bringing you a richly reported guide to what's in store and what lessons can be found for America. Already the national history class is beginning: President Bush and the First Lady have invited educators and Native American leaders to a White House event this week at which the coming bicentennial will serve as the occasion for a Bush plan to advance tribal colleges and universities.

As journalists, we have a special fondness for the Lewis and Clark story, perhaps because they were such good journalists, writing down nearly 1 million words. In retracing their steps, we had plenty of our own adventures. Los Angeles bureau chief Terry McCarthy hiked the treacherous Lolo Trail in Idaho, where he navigated 12-ft. snowdrifts in June. National correspondent Margot Roosevelt found herself in a Sioux sweat-lodge ceremony, where a tribe member said with a smile, "You're supposed to pray, even if it's to get the hell out of here." Photographer Jose Azel spent 25 nights in motel rooms and drove 4,500 miles to bring you a photo gallery of the people you might meet along the trail. Writer Joel Stein was the bravest of all, sampling the same fat-laden cuisine the explorers ate as he crouched by a Montana campfire.

We also drafted a corps, made up of contributors who have a longtime affinity for the story. Novelist Walter Kirn, who lives near the Yellowstone River, which Clark traveled on his homeward trip, writes for us about the tale's creation of a kind of utopian ideal for America's journey through history. Author Landon Jones, a former Time Inc. magazine editor who is making a second career out of his fascination with the explorers (he also serves as a director of the National Council of the Lewis and Clark Bicentennial), gives us a profile of the co-captains, showing how much they depended not only on heroism but also on the kindness of strangers--especially in the dozens of tribes they encountered. Author Rick Bass, who lives in a corner of Montana where during the time of Lewis and Clark grizzly bears roamed by the thousands, writes about their last stand in the face of relentless development.

While researching this issue, which I edited with my colleague Bill Saporito and the help of reporter Deirdre van Dyk, I went on a 700-mile road trip along the trail, taking my 8-year-old son Harry with me to act as a one-kid focus group on its educational prospects. He was mesmerized by a musket demonstration in Great Falls, Mont., and the sight of a stuffed grizzly bear in nearly every public building, though he did question the need to drive 200 miles to see if Sacagawea's landmark of Beaverhead Rock really looks like one. (From the right angle, yes.) We hope you'll be inspired to see for yourself, because the trail has so many stories to tell.