Plantin' Milo

Ya ever wanna know what it's like running one of those big four wheel drive tractors? This is a Ford New Holland pulling a planter seeding grain sorghum, or milo. I've talked about this crop before - it's mostly used as cattle feed and there is anADM  plant in Dodge City that mills milo into flour that is mostly used for making sheetrock. It can be used as a food item which is more popular these days since it it gluten free.

At any rate, you get to see the various controls, gauges and the GPS system at work. The planters have folding marker arms that leave a trail for the next round, and since the planter is so wide, they have to fold. Our old planter markers just picked up and rode vertically, but these things would be quite unable to clear power lines if they did not reduce their vertical presence. You get to see the graphics showing the large band of freshly planted ground moving next to what is already planted and is not - plus the warning when he reaches the end of the row.

He's pretty busy then - folding up the marker arm, lifting the planter out of the ground, unfolding the other marker arm, and resetting the GPS. You can also see he is rocking around in that seat - that ground may look smooth, but it is assuredly not, and tractors have pivot articulation on the front axle only - the rear is completely solid. About all that does is make sure the tractor has all four sets of wheel on the ground when it really gets uneven - if the front did not pivot, one or more corners would be off the ground and the tractor would be stuck right there.

And compared to what I ran, this puppy is livin' in the lap of luxury. It's all pushbutton, super quiet well sealed and extremely temperature controlled cab, better seat, and some real legroom. I'd hate to pay the fuel bill, though.

Hope y'all enjoy this peek into farming on the prairie!

Blatantly stolen from Joey Woods on Facebook

You've Probably Guessed By Now

My feelings on the subject at hand.

Cruise Up and Down This Road

I just got through reading a book that just stunned me with the familiarity with my formative years. Robert Rebein, who is originally from Dodge City, has written a book about growing up in the old cowtown. I graduated in 1977 from Cimarron - eighteen miles to the west of Dodge, Robert in '83. He has captured the essence of teenage prairie living, and in fact, life on the prairie, period, for all ages. The name of the book? Dragging Wyatt Earp: A Personal History of Dodge City.

There are parallels for us and differences, of course. He was raised in a large Catholic family and went to Sacred Heart School in Dodge. Small Catholic family here, but I have had experience with nuns in Catechism (at St. Stanislaus in Ingalls) and at St. Mary of the Plains College in Dodge. Dragging, or cruising Wyatt Earp was a bit more of a destination for us than him - we had our own route in Cimarron with much the same social rules. We had some reverence for dragging Earp - it was in the Big City, there were People Who Might Want to Fight (particularly if one strayed further east of Boot Hill, where the gangs were), and there were more fast cars and hopefully fast women there. A sort of Mecca, as it were.

The book is divided into three parts - Part I: The Town, Part II: The Country, and Part III: Of Horses, Cattle and Men.

Part I contains the chapter Dragging Wyatt Earp, and here is where most quotes I've read have been pulled - mostly because they're damned good.

Wyatt Earp, to us, was not a person but a place, a mile-long ribbon of asphalt that stretched from Boot Hill on the east to the Dodge House on the west

Wyatt Earp, the historical figure, really didn't make a dent in our lives. The street probably had more influence on us. But another observation Rebein makes really hit home for me:

What is it about growing up in a small town in the West that breeds such bravado, such innocence and blind faith? Was it our isolation? The vaunted self-reliance of the region? The fact that our parents and teachers praised us inordinately or that acceptance into any of the state colleges was a fait accompli? Maybe but I have another explanation:  we were leaving. And not just for a year or five years, but forever. Like the region's cattle, wheat and corn, we'd been raised for export, and most of us had learned this at about the same time we learned that Santa Claus was a fiction.  

We'd been raised for export.

It's true. Since day one, most of us knew that our parents wanted something better for us, that we were to get an education away from cattle and farming, and leave. Find a job we could love, get married and raise kids in a more forgiving climate.

There were exceptions - many were being raised to take over the farm or the family business, which most have done with great aplomb with no regrets. Some of us found we didn't really want to leave - that the lonely, rough, inhospitable prairie is something we love.

Part II contains some of the history of our little corner of the prairie, and Rebein's personal search for Quivira, the legendary home of the seven cities of gold that the Spaniard Francisco Vasquez de Coronado sought. His trips to several Indian massacre sites, seeing the Flint Hills led him to discover that the preferred campgrounds of the Cheyenne mirrored his own choices (and mine as well) - a scenic area sheltered from the incessant winds with water, game and grass. He also talks a lot about hunting - something that for most of us is akin to breathing.

Part III is all about the cattle and cowboys. I can certainly relate to the cattle - I've doctored, herded and branded many a heifer or steer (and made 'em steers in the first place). Dad didn't believe in keeping horses, so I have never really ridden or learned to ride - just never had the inclination. So, am I a cowboy? Not so much, and never will be. Robert Rebein is, and regales in the experience, making me realize how much I missed. He also spends some time doing some modern cowboying - working as a pen rider at a feedlot managed by one of my ex neighbors. I say ex, because I'm a townie these days, but his house was on my route to work for the past seven years before the ol' place burned down.  And he is the epitome of a modern businessman cowboy, and Rebein captures him elegantly and truthfully. There is certainly a cool factor in reading about your neighbors in someone's book.

There is so much more in this book that I am not even beginning to cover here. I think that anyone raised on the Great Plains would find commonality here, and those who weren't surely could see the attraction to our choosing to live here. It was a great regret when I reached the end.

The book is also available in Kindle format for $9.99 - it's how I read it (Amazon's Cloud Reader browser plugin). If you might wonder what makes me and my compadres tick, this will surely go a long way into gaining some insight.

Highly, highly recommended. Sure wish I could write as well....

Droughts Have Consequences

Just found out about this today - it's already happened.

Cargill Inc. said Thursday that it will indefinitely idle a Texas beef processing plant that employs about 2,000 people, primarily because of a dwindling cattle supply that is largely a result of drought.

The shutdown in Plainview, Texas, appears to be the first among major U.S. beef processing plants, as the industry's profits have been squeezed due to overcapacity.
"The idea of closing one or more of our major beef processing plants is not a big surprise," said Derrell Peel, a livestock specialist at Oklahoma State University's agricultural extension service. "It's been a matter of who blinks first."

Minnetonka-based Cargill is one of the biggest U.S. beef processors, and Plainview is home to one of the agribusiness giant's five sprawling plants that take in live cattle and ship out boxed beef.

The same economic dynamics that led to Cargill's Plainview closing have sent retail U.S. beef prices soaring the past two years, and no relief is in sight. Peel said retail prices could rise as much as 10 percent this year.

That would be after increases of 6.4 percent in 2011 and 10.2 percent in 2012, according to federal data.

Cattle ranchers can't even begin to rebuild their herds -- a multiyear process -- until the drought subsides. "Right now, [relief] of the drought conditions doesn't look very favorable this year," Peel said.

The Plainview shutdown begins Feb. 1, though Cargill says it will take measures to preserve the plant's "infrastructure" for potential reopening if the U.S. cattle herd rebounds. The plant in north Texas processes 4,500 head of cattle per day.

"While idling a major beef plant is unfortunate because of the resulting layoff of good people ... we were compelled to make a decision that would reduce the strain created on our beef business by the reduced cattle supply," Cargill Beef President John Keating said in a prepared statement.

The U.S. cattle herd is at its lowest level since 1952. "Increased feed costs due to the prolonged drought, combined with herd liquidations by cattle ranchers, are severely and adversely contributing to the challenging business conditions we face as an industry," Keating said.

By idling its Plainview plant, Cargill says it can operate three of its other big beef facilities on a five-day-a-week basis more consistently. Cargill plants in Friona, Texas; Dodge City, Kansas; and Fort Morgan, Colo., will receive cattle that normally would be slaughtered in Plainview.

Cargill doesn't break out results for its myriad meat businesses, though it has noted that its U.S. beef profit margins have been under pressure. Many U.S. beef processors are suffering losses or getting poor returns on the investments, Peel said.

The U.S. cattle herd has been in a long-term decline for years, particularly since about 2007, Peel said. Since then, grain prices have shot up due to structural changes in grain markets, thus precipitously boosting the price of cattle feed.

The 2012 drought, the nation's worst in decades, sent corn to over $8 a bushel. The heart of cattle country experienced its second straight year of very arid conditions, toasting pasture land.

More from the Star Tribune

I've hauled tanks for rendered fat and other liquids down there several times over the years. So, until the beef industry picks up again, Cargill Plainview is right out for us. We do business with the other plants as well, but still. The other plants can take up the slack, and I'm glad Dodge City's plant is one where they plan on expanding production, but transportation costs on that pound of hamburger just went up.

What a mess.

Jeffro's Picture Roundup

This is some guy's junkyard north of Mission, SD. Nothing unusual except for the car on top of the old stock trailer close to the road.

It's an old Mustang II notchback. It has been up there since I can remember. How and why are the questions we have - how did he get it up there and why? What in the world?

For Grey Havens - the old steam engine nut. This is an old Baldwin 2-6-2 oil fired locomotive on display at the Boot Hill replica in Dodge City, KS. She was built for the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe Railroad in 01/1903, and is no longer in running condition. I think the boilers are completely shot, which was apparently something Baldwins were known for. Planned obsolescence, yannow. She was donated to the museum in 1954, and several years ago was moved to this location during an extensive remodel of the grounds. I've spent some time playing and climbing around on her, but that was a long, long time ago!

This is what you will see a few miles west of Dodge on US 50 eastbound - the silhouette cowboys welcoming you to the Cowboy Capital. A similar sculpture is by the airport on the east side of Dodge on Business US 50. Welcome! We've got the Boot Hill Museum, complete with shootouts, dancing girls in the saloon, a pretty nice casino, and lots of other odds and ends. I have said before that this area literally drips with history and Dodge is a tourist destination during the summer. Oh, yeah, by the way, there is a rodeo during the summer. The five day Dodge City Roundup Rodeo, sanctioned by the PRCA. Yep, it's a big deal.

Purebred Longhorns. These are located kitty corner from the grain elevator at Howell, KS due west of Dodge and east of Cimarron, KS on US 50. Sorry 'bout the image quality - I was hoping they'd be far closer to the fence. Longhorns are liable to be about any color combo - not uniform at all. They all share a lanky, bony structure that can survive on grazing in dry country, and manage to survive long drives. It wasn't until the plains were settled that more domesticated cattle breeds infiltrated the beef supply - more meat on their bones, etc.

Again, sorry for the crummy image quality. This was pretty low light, which my phone camera does not like at all. Anyhow, meet Yeager, who is obviously a German Shepherd. He and I got along right off. He could poke his nose in my chest with all fours on the ground - he is that huge. I've always liked large dogs - I like rasslin' with em and having them physically able to rassle right back. His head and nose were as long as my arm. He resides on a farm north of Norfolk, NE. His master says he is normally friendly, but there have been times Yeager didn't recognize him in a different vehicle and that he was NOT so friendly - until he got an eye and a whiff. I was A-OK, though, and gave him most of the attention he thought he deserved. Very cool hound that I was glad to meet.

Remember me grousing about how crummy the roads were and how I hate to drive on snow and ice? It wasn't real bad, but I'm still not wild about driving on this stuff - especially empty. No weight on my drive axles means not a lot of traction. And, my drive tires are getting kinda thin, but not thin enough to replace just yet. So, that means the rear of the tractor squirms around on the various ruts and such instead of staying planted, which I infinitely prefer.

And here is one reason I hate driving on this crap - it isn't always going to be a mistake I make that ruins the day or gets me hurt or killed. Too fast? Probably - for sure too fast for the driver's ability to keep it straight and on the road. It was windy - like 40mph windy, but it was out of the north and this guy was headed due north. It was not a sidewind that twisted him up. I was running about 40 or 45 and even on gradual rises I lost some traction and had to back out, so him fighting the wind probably had him hurting worse in that regard. At any rate, "four wheelers" out in the ditches is a common sight as well, and I just don't like being out there when they've lost it and slide until they stop. Which may be right in my path.

The further south I got, the better it was, and the snow on my hood finally blew off. I finally got back and felt like I'd been driving about twice as many hours as I had, and in fact, I felt pretty punky the next morning and had to call in. Dammit.

So, this wraps up another edition of Jeffro's Picture Roundup. Hope ya enjoy!

To Everything There Is A Season

link

 I've been hearing this song in my head all day long. Guess why?

The leaves are changing in the North country - I first noticed it between Oberlin KS and McCook, NE on US83. These two pics were taken on the bridge over the Niobrara River just south of Valentine, NE. This particular basin is a sportsman's paradise - hunting and fishing are very good here, they say. Plus, it's purty as all get out.

These pics were taken in a little valley just south of White River, SD in a reservation area.

If you look closely, there are the remains of a foundation. Supposedly, that was a bar (upstairs) and a cathouse (downstairs) until the day all the local wimminfolk got PO's and burned it to the ground. This allegedly happened in the sixties - not so long ago.

I am NOT looking forward to winter, nor coming up thisaway during that time. It is, however, lookin' good in the fall duds.

Uva Uvam Vivendo Varia Fit

link

Of course, this scene is from the television miniseries Lonesome Dove, based on the novel of the same name by Larry McMurtry.

I can remember reading the book for the first time. It was such a great, rollicking adventure right out of the starting gate, until the river crossing where the young Irish immigrant was killed by a nest of water moccasins disturbed by the cattle crossing. It was like getting a five gallon bucket of that muddy river water dashed onto my head - gritty, cold and shocking. But, that is life - not always pleasant or fun, and this novel certainly captured that sentiment.

It was originally a screenplay intended for John Wayne in the Woodrow Call role, Jimmy Stewart as Augustus McCrae, and Henry Fonda as Jake Spoon. John Ford, for whatever reason, counseled Wayne to refuse the role, causing Stewart to back out as well. McMurtry eventually bought his manuscript back and adapted it into the Great American Novel we know it as now. After having great difficulties getting it made as a movie or as a miniseries, the success of the novel had networks lining up trying to get McMurtry to show it on their stations.

At any rate, the miniseries was made and released to great ratings, acclaim and awards. I'd think a three hour movie would have shortchanged the book, and releasing it as a miniseries was a stroke of genius. The story of two retired Texas Rangers and their interactions and personalities made for great entertainment on film as well as in print. It was the contrasts between Gus and Woodrow that made this work.

They were both archetypal in the sense of being opposite sides of a coin. Gus was the lackadaisical hedonist - but he was too much of a veteran of the prairie to treat his survival in that manner. He enjoyed life, perhaps too much, shirking responsibilities of the domestic variety. When I heard that Robert Duvall (one of my all time favorite actors) was slated to play Gus, I felt at that time that perhaps he was miscast. Today, I cannot envision anyone else in that role. 

And Woodrow - a tightly wound pleasure avoiding workaholic with a strict moral code that kept him upright and steadfast even in his greatest moments of self doubt. While Gus would cut loose to let off some steam, Woodrow was quite incapable of the same. Even so, he could still lose control as witnessed by the awesome scene above. His boy, who he never acknowledged as his, was being beaten, and Woodrow F. Call would have none of that. Tommy Lee Jones did a masterful job of portraying Call. Even as Call beat the Army scout, his visage was coldly neutral and businesslike. After Gus roped him and Call regained his composure, his inability to communicate emotions overcame him once again. I hate rude behavior in a man. I won't tolerate it. Indeed. Tommy Lee Jones, a ranch owner who breeds horses and cattle himself, shows he knows a thing or two about riding as well.

Of course the supporting cast was superb. Robert Urich, Fredric Forrest and Timothy Scott are no longer with us. Danny Glover, Angelica Huston, Diane Lane, Chris Cooper and Rick Schroder (the kid from Silver Spoons? Are you kidding me?) deserve accolades as well.

But it all rolls back to the contrasts between Woodrow and Augustus. The Latin quote (Uva Uvam Vivendo Varia Fit) on the Hat Creek Cattle sign - that also included the caveat that the establishment did not rent pigs, seems to hold the major clue to the intentions of the author - from Wikipedia:

The sign for Gus McCrae and Woodrow F. Call's Hat Creek Cattle Company includes a Latin motto, "Uva Uvam Vivendo Varia Fit," which appears to be a reference to a proverb first attributed to Juvenal. The proverb, "Uva Uvam Videndo Varia Fit" is translated as "A grape (uva) other grapes (uvam) seeing (videndo) changes (varia fit)." Some readers think McMurtry's substitution of "vivendo" for "videndo" is an artifice used to underscore Gus's lack of education and unfamiliarity with Latin. But later, when Call asks Gus about the motto, he jumbles it comically, not even pretending to know what it means. Having established that, McMurtry gains nothing by adding a spelling error that only Latin scholars would catch. Likewise, it seems unlikely—as other readers have suggested—that the substitution was simply a typographical error. Although the substitution is ungrammatical, "vivendo" means "living," turning the phrase "A grape changes when it sees other grapes" to "A grape is changed by living with other grapes;" or, since we are not really concerned with grapes after all, to "We are changed by the lives around us." The author's alteration takes on greater significance in light of the larger themes in the narrative that deal with how one leads one's own life and with living itself. These themes are also indicated in the remark made by Gus to Call: "It ain't dyin' I'm talkin' about...it's livin'."

Yes.

He'd Have Preferred A Lasso, I Think

link


El Capitan has been a fixture of downtown Dodge City since Jasper D'Ambrosi finished sculpting this monument (around 1980) to the trail drives of the 1870s and 1880s. El Capitan is shown as gaunt because that's pretty much how the cattle arriving at Dodge looked - the drives really wore 'em down.

He was placed in a rather prominent position in downtown Dodge - a part of Second Avenue was closed and he resided in the real estate gained. The idea was that traffic would be insulated from the old downtown area, making it more pedestrian friendly. Traffic northbound from Second plus easterly and westerly US50 traffic would be greeted by his visage. Southbounders on Second were treated to a view of his butt and a detour.

But last night an eighteen year old - who ran after launching his car over the pedestal and knocking the old steer to the ground, was found and charged with several counts, none of which included a DUI. His left horn is broken, there are some scuffs on his snout, and a broken tail and ankle. Since D'Ambrosi died in 1986, repairing him won't be easy. This incident has restarted the original debate over closing that section of Second. There seems to be some support for moving a repaired El Capitan to Wright Park or some other "safe" location and reopening the closed section to traffic - with the idea that it will help revitalize downtown Dodge.

At the moment, Dodge City only has one north-south street capable of carrying high amounts of traffic - which is Fourteenth Street - twelve blocks away from the South Second/Wyatt Earp Boulevard (US50). South Second carries US283 traffic into downtown Dodge - but it turns to the east and runs with US 50 to an intersection east of town, where it continues north. The de facto north route is Central Avenue - which is one way, and First Avenue, which is also one way. First only runs up to Commanche Street. So, someone going southbound on Central in north Dodge has to get on Commanche, go west one block, then down First to get to downtown Dodge. If they want to get to south Dodge, they have to go another block west and head down south Second. Central above Commanche is four lane - and below that both Central and First are two lane one way streets - but they are brick (keeping it historic) and narrow. When cars are parked on both sides of the street, navigating two cars side by side is pretty tricky stuff.

Clearly something needs to be done - and it's been needing fixed for decades. I kinda doubt opening a two hundred yard stretch of Second is gonna fix all that - the traffic would ball up at Commanche anyway. No, if Dodge wants to fix this, it's gonna mean ripping up the brick streets and a whole slew of houses and businesses (like the Post Office, where yours truly worked, and is a historic landmark) to put in a dedicated four lane street.

I wouldn't count on that happening any time soon. Put El Capitan back on his pedestal and put a drill stem fence or some jersey style barriers around him so this can't happen again.

Check It Out

One of the more astounding historical stories out there is that of Andrew Carnegie. He was a true American Dream success - a dirt poor immigrant who worked his way up to become one of the first captains of industry. Some equate that term with robber baron, but there is a difference. Carnegie truly embodied that difference, because he gave away the biggest share of his fortune in philanthropic endeavors. After he sold his record shattering steel business to J. P. Morgan, who founded U.S. Steel from this and other purchases, Carnegie found himself with a lot of money. He felt that one of the steps to his success was the free access to books as a young man that a local gentleman made available to him and others like him. This enabled him to start on becoming a self educated and self made man.

So, he set up a process where he disbursed funds for building libraries in communities that met his requirements which included free access to all, a recurring annual budget, the land to build it on, and to demonstrate the need for a library. Another fairly revolutionary concept used was the "open stack." This meant a patron could wander among the books and choose freely, where before one had to ask the librarian to retrieve a specific volume - the books were not available for public browsing. This was also seen as a step towards better communication with the librarian - for recommendations, finding specific information and so on.

Designs for the libraries were often rather eclectic and diverse. Many different architectural styles are represented across the country. Dodge City's is no different in that regard:

The style of the library reflects the sentiment in American architecture at the turn-of-the-century, which was rebelling against the excessiveness of the mid-Victorian era. Designers were encouraged to return to the use of purer, classical elements. Dodge City's Carnegie building features several classical elements. It is virtually symmetrical and features a center dome with large pediments on either side. The door is framed by large ionic pilasters. The simulated stone foundation mocks that found in ancient Roman archaelogical ruins. The upper lights are of stained glass, one of the features which makes the building unique among Carnegie libraries in Kansas.

So, ancient Roman ruins, consider yourself mocked! Think about this for a minute. Just imagine what this sort of declaration about the design of the new library sounded like to a bunch of rough old prairie cobs farming and running cattle, or even the proprietors of the local haberdashery. This (and the dome) was pretty far out there for the time - I suspect even so by today's standards this would raise an eyebrow or two among the more traditional types. But, this old building has been around long enough to become familiar enough to breed contempt. Enough so that it's lucky to be around - I can remember the battles to save it from destruction. Back in my bar hopping days, it was home to several bars and restaurants. But, it's on the National Register of Historic Places these days, and has been more or less restored as a center for the arts.

Dodge City's Carnegie Library is certainly not the only interesting Carnegie Library out there. I'd bet who ever reads this has or had one fairly close by - they were scattered all over the US and other parts of the world. Perhaps not uncommon, they were definitely significant in many ways. Most communities that received libraries were just coming out of being raw collections of housing and commerce. The people weren't very educated but were now finding it possible to devote more time to education rather than just surviving. The timing of this philanthropy was very, very fortunate. Libraries are more than just a collection of books for a community. Carnegie demonstrated how important they are for the development of a healthy society. That's a pretty good legacy to have.

Dedicated to my friend Earl, the Library Keeper

Badlands!

When people talk about the Badlands, most really mean the area in South Dakota designated the Badlands National Park. But, Badlands has a generic description:

A badlands (also badland) is a type of arid terrain where softer sedimentary rocks and clay-rich soils have been extensively eroded by wind and water. It can resemble malpaís, a terrain of volcanic rock. Canyons, ravines, gullies, hoodoos and other such geological forms are common in badlands. They are often difficult to navigate by foot. Badlands often have a spectacular colour display that alternates from dark black/blue coal stria to bright clays to red scoria.

snip

The term "badlands" represents a consensus in North America: the Lakota called the topography "Makhóšiča", literally bad land, while French trappers called it "les mauvaises terres à traverser" – "the bad lands to cross". The Spanish called it tierra baldía ("waste land") and cárcava. The term badlands is also apt: badlands contain steep slopes, loose dry soil, slick clay, and deep sand, all of which impede travel and other uses. Badlands form in arid regions with infrequent but intense rain-showers, sparse vegetation, and soft sediments: a recipe for massive erosion.

Some of the most famous fossil beds are found in badlands, where erosion rapidly exposes the sedimentary layers and the scant cover of vegetation makes surveying and fossil hunting relatively easy.

snip

Some of the best-known badland formations can be found in the United States and Canada. In the U.S., Makoshika State Park in Montana, Theodore Roosevelt National Park in North Dakota and Badlands National Park in South Dakota together form a series of extensive badlands formations.

From Wikipedia


This was taken on US85 southbound climbing out of the Little Missouri River basin located in the North Unit of the Theodore Roosevelt National Park. It's not much of a climb in or out, particularly compared to the passes in the Rocky Mountains, but what you do see is awesome. I'm not too wild about heights, so for me there is always an element of fear in the mountains. I feel closer to this kind of scenery - it's more accessible and friendly to me. I feel more at home here.

The following pictures are from Wikipedia's entry on the Badlands National Park. While the actual acreage set aside is south of I90 near Wall, SD - the interstate does cross a pretty rugged spot just west of Wall - you get an idea of what the whole thing must be like.


How do you even begin to try to traverse something like this?



Even from I90, one can see rock formations erupted from the flat terrain, craggy snaggletoothed sharp bones of the earth exposed for the ages. I doubt the walls of Mordor have anything on these barriers.


This is the sort of thing you'll see on the interstate west of Wall.

I dunno, I get an emotional reaction from this area that I like. It's dangerous ground for sure, inhospitable, wild, tumultuous and rugged. The ambiance neither is neither inviting or threatening - the effect just is. Millennia were required to shape this - it doesn't deign to notice a mere tubby trucker blasting by at seventy five on the interstate. The mountains can getcha - a slip on the ice, a shift in the built up snow leading to an avalanche, an inattentive or aggressive driver - just a minor mistake completely out of your control can result in death. Mountains don't care, but their capricious nature can take ya out.

The Badlands could getcha just as easily, but I don't get the unpredictable vibes the mountains give me.


Does this remind you of anything? Maybe some scenery in an old John Ford western? Think Monument Valley.

Dances With Wolves was filmed in South Dakota territory - a fact that is driven home on I90 by the signs advertising the 1880 Town near Murdo, where you can view some memorabilia from the movie. The 1880 Town ads can't hold a candle to the Wall Drug ones - if you've ever traveled on that stretch of I90, you'll know just what I mean.

But, I digress. After seeing the area (plenty of times over the past few years), I've come to the conclusion that Kevin Costner shortchanged his movie by not utilizing more of the local terrain. He really showcased the vast, rolling prairie with the grass waving in the wind. But, he missed out on the grandeur of the Badlands. John Ford was a master of setting the mood with the backdrop - that was just one of the techniques in his filmakers' tool chest.

Just as an example: at the end, when the Union troops and Pawnee scouts are looking for the Lakota - that area could just as easily been in the foothills of the Rockies or in the hills of Arkansas. Not necessarily where you might find a Lakota band in the first place. Costner wanted to paint a bleak picture - the scene was winter, he had a howling wolf in the soundtrack - cold, lonely, stark - that was the mood he was looking for in those closing scenes. He had all that in easy driving distance from the ranch location they used, and they did shoot in the winter.

It's just my opinion, but Dances With Wolves could have been a lot more eye popping visually. I suppose considering the big picture the salient points Costner wanted made were achieved, and the movie certainly was a financial success. It's definitely a movie I enjoy. But, this is one area that it missed being a really great movie. Lonesome Dove used correct terrain for great visual and emotional impact, and it was a freaking TV miniseries.

But, I suppose in the end, the authenticity of Dances With Wolves beats the tar out of television oaters like Gunsmoke, where a trip from Dodge City to a local town involves more trees and hills than the entire state of Kansas possesses (as opposed to the canyons and forests near Hollywood, where those shows were filmed). At least Costner got the rolling prairie right. South Dakota certainly looks like what we see in the film, in a tunnel vision sort of way.

In the yes or no columns for the Badlands, put me down as a yes.

NYT Editorial Board Carryin' the Water

I am from Kansas, which most of you know anyways, but it bears repeating. Senator Sam Brownback and Senator Pat Roberts represent me - and currently I'm pretty tickled with both of them (Brownback - border security, not so much). Let's look at a fresh editorial from the New York Times about my Senators and one of their decisions.

War Games

The country is fighting two very difficult wars. It needs a secretary of the Army, and President Obama has chosen Representative John McHugh, a Republican, for the job. Yet Senators Sam Brownback and Pat Roberts have selfishly put a hold on his nomination along with nine other appointments to the Pentagon and the Justice Department.

The two Kansas Republicans are demanding that the White House rule out Fort Leavenworth, Kan., as an alternative detention site when the Guantánamo prison is to be closed next January. They are trying to stoke hometown anxieties with the ludicrous argument that detainees present extraordinary dangers beyond the 1.2 million convicted felons in prisons across America.

“We don’t want them here,” said Senator Brownback, who happens to be running for governor next year. “They should be treated with dignity and humanely, but it shouldn’t be here.” Senator Roberts calls the Guantánamo prisoners the “worst of the worst.”

The prison in Guantánamo Bay, Cuba, and the abuses committed there, are a searing symbol of shame and a rallying point for international fury — in other words, a true threat to national security. President Obama was right to commit to shutting it down. That means that the 229 detainees must be sent elsewhere — either to prisons in the United States or abroad, or released if warranted.

Federal officials are reported to be focusing on Fort Leavenworth — site of the military’s only maximum- security prison — and another maximum-security penitentiary in Standish, Mich., that is slated to be closed.

This jingoism got its bipartisan start in May when Congress barred financing for shutting the Guantánamo prison and demanded a detailed resettlement plan from the White House. No one bothered to mention that convicted terrorists are already safely housed in prisons inside the United States.

If there is any common sense in the Senate (the self-proclaimed greatest deliberative body), the honorable members from Kansas should be forced to yield to the Army’s and the nation’s overriding need. They have already gotten their parochial headlines.

It's clear that the citizens of Kansas don't want Guantanamo detainees in the state. Period. End of story. The Senators are using their positions to do the will of their constituents. They are playing hardball with the White House, and the Times has it's panties in a bunch over this. To them, my Senators are grandstanding for the home crowd, and now that they have made their point, they should give in. After all, it's parochial, and they are bucking the will of Teh Won. So, for order to prevail in their universe, Brownback and Roberts must give in.

I don't use this sort of language online here very often, so I apologize in advance for my indiscretion.

To the NYT and Teh Won: Fuck off.

Obama campaigned on Hope and Change - and one of the things he really stressed was how he would cross the divide, cross the aisle, reach across the political minefields to work with his partisan opponents. So far, all I've seen from the White House is "my way or the highway - I won, so there." Pretty simplistic, but that's the way it appears from the cheap seats. In order to actually "reach across" requires a concept called "Compromise." This means both sides have to give up something to reach a common goal. I know y'all knew that, but I just wanted to repeat it, just in case someone might send this in to flag@whitehouse.gov* - the White House apparently missed that day of instruction back in grade school.

Brownback and Roberts are experienced politicians who know there is a quid pro quo - and they will negotiate if they get something for something. No Guantanamo prisoners in Kansas, hey, you get your nominees confirmed. If the White House is committed to an autocracy without any compromises, were I the Senators, I'd say for them to pound sand where the sun don't shine. Which is pretty much their stand at the moment.

As for the editorial staff at the NYT, I hereby invite them to go hunting with Dick Cheney. Then they should hang with The Nuge for several weeks. Drastic, I know, but maybe they'd keep their noses out of our business for a time. Well, probably not, but one can always hope.

*yeah, I know it's a snitch line for the health care debacle, but I'm for thinking any transgression against Teh Won's agenda should be sent there.

I've Gotcher Art Right Here Part 2

In 1868, William F. Cody -- "Buffalo Bill" -- was making his living as a contract buffalo hunter, feeding the crews laying tracks for the Kansas Pacific Railroad. At the same time, William Comstock, also known as "Buffalo Bill," made his living as a contract buffalo hunter feeding the soldiers at Fort Wallace.

To determine the real "Buffalo Bill," a contest was held west of Oakley. Bill Cody brought down 69 buffalo and Bill Comstock brought down 46 buffalo. From that day forward, the legend of William F."Buffalo Bill" Cody was born. [Joe Boulter, 10/28/2006]

This sculpture resides just south of I70 on US83 on the west side of Oakley, KS. I drive by quite a bit, and have always wanted to stop. Today, I had the time.

Charlie Norton from Leoti, KS is the artist. Another popular work of his is on display in front of the Security State Bank in Scott City, KS - it's called Cattleman's Harvest. The bank link is actually a Google Street View of the piece, and the second shows a smaller version for sale. But, all that aside, the Buffalo Bill Buffalo Kill statue is what we have here:

This is facing north.

South view

Close up of the buffalo.


View of Bill on horseback. Keep in mind I'm 6'3". The gun is a Springfield - my high resolution camera phone didn't capture the engraved printing on the receiver of the rifle.

This was the fun shot. There is a lot of detail here - check out the knife, the fringes blowing in the breeze, the tack - all the things a period buffalo hunter and his horse would probably be wearing are here. It's a pretty impressive piece. I'm glad I finally stopped.

The sculpture is atop a mound, and at the bottom is a little museum/outbuilding that was closed today. There is a sheltered billboard with historical information printed on it. There are no steps to go to the top, so it's handicapped capable. If you are ever in the area, it's worth a half hour or so at least.

Two Shots This Time

I've been home the past two days with the creeping crud. Periods of shivering under blankets alternating with hot flushes, sore stomach muscles and throat from coughing and reduced to being a mouth breather because the ol' sinuses are plugged. Yeah, we've all been there and done that fer sure.

So, my regimen includes sleeping until the call of nature forces me from the sick bed, as it were. I stepped out earlier today and I could hear this sucker singing off in the distance. The cicadas (or chickadees as they are known as around these parts) were carrying on as well. Their tune is a brash and happy melody, broadcast from high places at high volume. Rattlers, well hidden in the tall grass, can just barely be heard, the buzzing wafting over the breezes through the trees and weeds.

I can hear fairly well when things are quiet, but if there is background noise..... Too many noisy tractors and trucks with straight pipes have damaged my hearing. If I can pick out a noise from over the ringing of tinnitus, I can usually use the triangulation our Creator gave our hearing. However, when the wind is up, not so much.

I know better than to hunt down the vipers in their home territory. So, when I hear their menacing warnings floating on the breeze - I figure it's time to leave them to it. It's just when they practically move in with me that I get upset.

The trip outside after the long distance serenade revealed it's presence next to the porch, coiled and quite unhappy with me. So, I took care of business, went inside and got the little lever action Henry. This time, I spent some time lining up the sights. This snake was further away than the last one. Of course, I missed the head shot. You can see I ventilated his body, coiled under his head at the time.

He (or she) had been pretty well focused on me already, but now the head was pointed right at me, elevated from the ground and dead on. If the malevolence and hatred in those eyes could have driven laser emitters, I'd have been toast for sure. The head was now a more difficult shot, too.

I lost patience and just snapped off the shot, popping it in the head, and killing it instantly. I've found my snap shooting is generally more accurate than the carefully aimed shots, particularly if I'm been practicing. The less thinking, the better.

This example is quite a bit darker than the last one, as well as bigger. Babs was under the porch steps at the time, and she didn't appreciate the shooting much. She won't be "talking" to me much for the rest of the day. Oh well, she won't be running into this sucker inadvertently, either.

Lucky Shot

Friday night about one am, I awoke to the urgent desire to step outside and relieve some pressure, as it were. My sewer has some issues, so I hate to stress it and I like stepping outside. It may mark me as an uncivilized lout, but oh well.

It isn't all that unusual to have some wildlife encounters during these trips to commune with nature. I've written before about finding rattlers close to the front door. So, I wasn't completely surprised to hear the buzzing sound of one of the poisonous bastards when I walked out. I couldn't see the damn thing (which makes me nervous), but I had needs that had to be met.

So, I needed a flashlight and a killing tool. What to use? My shotguns weren't just real handy, but I did have my Henry Golden Boy .22 rifle loaded and ready by the front door. I prefer shotguns, because I'm a wuss and like some distance between me and the biting serpents. But, like I said, the .22 was ready to go and fully capable if I was as well.

Shining the flashlight on the porch revealed the snake on the porch with me. This was not a pleasant thought. It was trying to force it's way into a crack in the foundation over the side - mice live under said porch, and it would be a feast for any mouse eating reptile. I just had a shot at it's belly. I figured I'd give it a major gut ache, and it would roll off into the dirt where I could eventually finish it off. But wait - it pulled it's head out of the crack and it was looking to the north of me! I had a head shot!

I've been somewhat concerned with my shooting abilities for some time, since my hands are not fully functional nerve wise. I have discovered that I can still run just any firearm I own, and all it takes is practice. We've all been shooting .22s primarily because we feel it is still affordable - the heavier stuff could break us if we shoot a lot of, say .45s or .308s. So, I have been shooting the little lever action a bit lately, even if it is just once a month or so.

It was with some trepidation that I lined up my first shot - I figured I'd miss, the snake would become more active, and I'd be scattering .22 shots all over the place. I shot and bzzzzzztt---- it was over. You can see the head shot in the top picture. There wasn't even a twitch out of that sucker three seconds later.



My buddies made me pose with my hunting trophy the next day. I'd just come home from work and they were here doin' some shootin.' The rattler wasn't very big - maybe 2.5 feet long if that. They ran over another rattler about a hundred yards down the road on their way home.

I felt pretty good about that one shot.

Hunting Coyotes

For some reason, this remembrance came bubbling up from the cesspool that is my mind.

A couple of years ago I had some free time, and decided to try to call in some coyotes. I had just gotten several calls, and had been working on my techniques. There is some fairly rough (for this area) country not too far east of my half section, and the draw running through it is a wildlife roadway. Past expeditions have shown coyote signs, and there is plenty of other denizens of the prairie there as well.

There is a spot where the draw follows a sort of "S" shape, and there is a little ridge at the bottom of the tiny valley. This was my destination. I parked my pickup about a mile away to the north, and walked in. I was suitably attired in camo, and had my calls and my Savage Model 10 in .243. I've got a long bipod on it, and can shoot with the rifle supported in the seated position. I found an area that had several clumps of weeds and a bunch or two of yucca. I pulled up some tumbleweeds to build up the little area so that I could mask my silhouette a bit as well. I had a pretty good view of the valley floor as it opened up from the south, which is where I thought I could draw any coyotes in the area. Since I'd walked in from the north, I figured that direction was probably a lost cause.

So, I'm equipped not stripped, and wounded rabbit calls were being sent in a timely fashion. I had my binoculars with me as well, and there just wasn't anything happening. But, it was a fairly nice day, if a bit windy. I was enjoying just sitting in that little area, whether anything happened or not.

But then, I heard several thumps from behind me. For the life of me, it sounded like car doors being slammed some distance away. My first thought was someone was trying to rip off my pickup.

But, when I turned around, it was nothing of the sort. A mule deer buck and two does were contemplating just what I might be from about twenty yards away. Muleys don't walk, they spring from spot to spot, and the thumps were what I heard when their hoofs hit the ground. They looked me over, and I marveled at the sight. After a bit, they decided they'd had enough, and started to move away. It took a couple minutes before they disappeared from view to the south.

Muleys are a curious lot, and the buck with his little harem just had to see what was making that racket. I don't know if I really did sound like a wounded rabbit, but I'd hidden myself well enough that they didn't know what I was until they about stepped on me. Of course, it wasn't deer season, and I've never gotten a muley tag anyways. Whitetails are what I always draw, and they are a lot more skittish.

But, none of that mattered that day. I didn't fire a single round, but the day was a success.

Casper, the Hereford Calf

Circa 1965

That is my cousin Stephen in the middle, Casper the calf on the left, and yours truly on the right. For reasons I cannot recall at this time (seems like I've slept since then), Casper's mother died. He became my responsibility, and a pet. He became a "bucket calf" which is our term for a calf that has to be fed milk and is too young for solid feed. I had to mix his milk a couple times a day, and naturally, he was tame and had the run of the yard. When he got older and too big to be a pet, Dad turned him out with his contemporaries, and he eventually ended up in my college fund (and on someone's plate, but I tried not to think about that too much).

Yep, I was actually that thin at one time. Would that I could be that thin now!

At any rate, thinking about Herefords and cattle breeds in general reminds me of a pet peeve of mine, "Angus" beef in particular. These two breeds and mixes thereof comprise the majority of beef cattle in the US. Most beef cattle are mixed breeds. When you see a black baldy - it is a black animal with a white face. It has elements of Black Angus and Hereford in it's ancestry to arrive at that coloring. Sometimes, you'll see an animal with the characteristic shoulders of a Brahma, or the light yellow, tan or white coloring of Charolais. Polled cattle are without horns - some by genetics, and some by removal. The old Longhorns aren't much for beef production anymore.

Most of these breeds were crossed looking for certain characteristics for good beef production. Dad liked long frames on his calves. Some shorter cattle could really pack on the weight, but Dad felt like a larger framed calf would put on more weight far more economically. He looked for wider hips in his cows, for easier birthing. Most of the time when you buy cattle, you don't get to pick and choose out of a herd. You get a lot, and some will have culls. So, you look to buy cattle that need to gain weight, but aren't sickly, and with the majority having the characteristics you desire.

In later years, Dad got away from the cow/calf pairs and went to "backgrounding." This practice is where the cattle rancher buys calves weaned off the cows, pasture them during the good weather, and feed them during the winter, until they reach feeder weight. That is the weight that feedlots want to buy for their operations, because at that age, cattle can really put on the pounds in a feedlot. The average farmer doesn't have the equipment necessary to take advantage of that point in their cattle's development. Dad preferred buying heifers, because they were more docile than steers. When purchasing a load of male calves, they haven't been "cut" yet, so that must be done as well. Steers tear up more fencing than heifers, and are just generally more onery. They cost more, and brought more at selling time as well, but Dad felt he made the same money without as much headache. We had less Rocky Mountain Oysters as a result, but oh well. When the calves arrived, we had to process them. This meant branding, removal of any horn nubbins, castrating any little bulls, and giving them a variety of drugs. Some, like the sulfa pills, were shoved down their throats with a "balling gun" where the sulfa pill was placed in the bell end, shoved down their throat, and a pushrod ejected the pill. Other drugs were injected. Most were broad spectrum antibiotics. Now, most cattle are marked with ear tags, which have an annoying tendency to fall off. Branding was truly an art, because you had to seat the hot iron properly. If you smeared the brand, the calf would have to be rebranded and cause it more pain, plus it might get infected. If the brand was done properly, it healed better and was permanent.

Anyways, a cattleman is always checking his charges, sometimes several times a day. They mostly monitor their health, looking for various problems. We don't get as close to our animals as a dairy farmer does, but you do see them as individuals. "Yeah, that's the one that we had to unwind the barb wire from - she isn't happy unless she's trying to get out." "That's the one that was snakebit and had the huge pus blister on her right shoulder."

So, the reality of cattle and breeds are that they are a huge mishmash. Purebreeds exist, of course, but mostly for breeding purposes. It's pretty hard to tell just what breed or most of a breed an animal is after the hide is removed. So, when I see someone advertising "Angus" beef, I have to laugh. I really doubt that Burger King is buying purebred Angus cattle to make hamburger. I also don't understand the power that "Angus" apparently has on the American consumer, either. Hereford tastes just the same, and it's probably what they are eating, anyhow.

15,000 Concealed Carry Permits Issued in Kansas

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

"Local" Artist

Some of you may have heard (no pun intended) of Stan Herd. He's noted for being a commercial artist who uses large tracts of land for his canvas. Originally from Protection, KS, he's made a name for himself making portraits that can only be seen properly from the air, as well as some pretty nice murals on buildings scattered around Kansas.

This is his latest:



This is near Longmont CO, and was strategically placed so airline passengers flying into DIA could see it. The portrait is meant to promote Papa John's new whole wheat crust.

Herd really made his name with this one:


For Absolut Vodka, of course. This one put him "on the map," as it were.

But, I prefer his "native" portraits:


The top picture is a portrait of Saginaw Grant, a Native American actor. The bottom is historical Kiowa Indian chief Satanta.

Mr. Herd is also known for his large murals with historical themes on various buildings in Kansas.


The old First National Bank building in Dodge City - owned by Bank of America these days.


A mural in Inman.

On the Kingman County Historical Museum in Kingman, KS.

He also painted a huge mural on the side of the old HyPlains Beef packing plant in Dodge. It is now owned by National Beef - and I don't remember if the mural is still there or not.

So, yeah, we got art on the prairie. It may not get the attention that Christo's does, but we really and truly don't care.

The Things I See

Yesterday, coming down US75 from Nebraska City NE to Topeka KS, we saw a couple of the cars entered into the American Solar Challenge. The first pic is of Brasidius, the University of Michigan's entry. It has been the dominant car in past competitions. How did I know it was Michigan's car? The black and white Tahoes with nineteen dozen lights and huge lettering with University of Michigan Escort Vehicle emblazoned might have given me a clue. I think the next car we saw was Auburn University's electric hotrod. The escort vehicles weren't as easily read going by.

Of course, there was no way to get a decent picture. It was cool to see them, although from the looks of things, the drivers were probably sweating their patooties off.

Then, today on US50 east of Kendall KS there was a gentleman traveling on inline skates. I've seen bicyclists, joggers, guys dragging crosses on wheels - well, I've seen a lot of different kinds of human locomotion. But, I gotta admit, I never thought I'd see a skater in the desolate wildlands of Western Kansas, out in the middle of nowhere.

Just when you think you've seen it all, well, yer proven wrong.