Lewis & Clark made use of the best scientific instruments of their day, a sextant a chronometer that cost half of their scientific budget and compasses similar to the one in the picture (this one is a replica of Jefferson's personal compass). The result was maps such as the one on the left, Clark's map of the mouth of the Columbia. Things have changed in a hundred and ninety-six years. The Sea Bird has fine, published charts like this one, radar, and a GPS system even more sophisticated than the one pictured here. Even with the more primitive gear, Clark's maps were reasonably accurate and of great value. Having produced a volume of such maps he was able to construct a finished map representing a piece of country four thousand miles long by about five miles wide.

Not satisfied with that, Clark spent the eight years following the expedition interviewing everyone who came back form the West – Indians, traders, mountain men, soldiers, artists, aristocratic tourists – to help fill in the missing pieces. The result was his 1814 map, a representation of most of the Great American West as seen by human eyes and described by human tongues. A map infinitely better than the maps of the imagined West that Lewis had reviewed before the trip.

We construct the reverse image of Clark's map. Standing on the bow of the Sea Bird, we consult the Columbia charts to pinpoint expected features. But in our minds we construct the imagined West. With our eyes closed we strive to see the flooded gorge again exposed as Lewis & Clark ran the rapids with spectators on the banks alternately laughing and cheering. As Clark mapped to make the settlement of the West possible for the yeomen farmers he envisioned following the mountain men, we erase maps to see the river without dams, to envision it peopled with the tribes Lewis & Clark met here.

So the world is constantly changed, created anew each day as we redraw our private maps of our personal worlds. How better to explore that inner map than to voyage into new country that invites such reflection with each bend of the river.

In the words of Lewis & Clark, "we proceed on".