Well, the time finally came this past weekend to put my theory to the test.

Here goes….

It’s a long-held theory of mine that a small town is dying if you figure you could lie down in the middle of main street without fear of being run over, but I’ve never actually followed through and tried it out.

Well, the time finally came this past weekend to put my theory to the test.

Here goes….

 Yep, this down is dead!

On to the next town!

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

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Last weekend, we were on our way home from a trip to the southwest corner of Kanasas. A few hours from home we were going through the tiny unincorporated town of Rice when we saw a sign indicating an old stone bridge. So we followed the signs and finally the road deadended right [...]]]>

Last weekend, we were on our way home from a trip to the southwest corner of Kanasas. A few hours from home we were going through the tiny unincorporated town of Rice when we saw a sign indicating an old stone bridge. So we followed the signs and finally the road deadended right front of an old limestone arch bridge. We climbed down the creek bank and then walked along the muddy creekbottom a little bit to better view the bridge.

A placard stated that the bridge was built in 1899 for $220.  At the time the bridge was on the main road, but in 1920, a new main road was built a couple hundred feet south. The old road with the bridge was still used though until about 1950. In 1904, and again in 1950, floodwaters damaged the bridge and it was finally closed to vehicle traffic in 1950.

It continued to fall into disrepair until 1990 when a grassroots effort began to restore the bridge. Donations of money and labor restored the bridge to its former glory.

We spent about a half hour carefully walking the muddy creekbed taking pics of the bridge,

The underside of the bridge

and then I make one misstep, my foot slipped in the mud, and my feet went out from under me and I landed in the mud. It was soft, so no harm done, but the back of my jeans were coated with mud.

I scraped as much of it as I could off by rubbing my backside along the bark of some trees. (There’s a mental image for you!) But there was no way I could get back in the truck. So we pulled my suitcase out, and I changed clothes right there near the bridge. Thankfully there were lots of trees around for cover and no one else was visiting the bridge at the time. A clean t-shirt and skirt later, we were on our way again down the road.

If you find ever find yourself in north central Kansas, stop by to see this lovely old bridge.

Click here to see a map. To get to the bridge turn north from Route 9 on North 200 Road. Go one block, then turn right and the street will dead-end at the bridge.

And be careful if there’s mud.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

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-photo source: Wikipedia

We’ve watched Greater Prairie Chickens many times, but [...]]]> Sunday morning, Harland and I got up at 4am, dressed hurriedly, and left our hotel in Elkhart in the dark. Tee hee – I felt like we were trying to get out of paying a bill. But no, we were off to watch Lesser Prairie Chickens.

-photo source: Wikipedia

We’ve watched Greater Prairie Chickens many times, but have never witnessed the mating dance of the Lesser.

We were excited.

A short drive out into the desert later, and we lugged our blinds and photo backpacks out into the darkness. By the light of our flashlights, we set up our blinds, crawled inside and settled down to wait. There was a cold north wind that buffetted our blinds and I wiggled my arms and legs to keep warm.

After about an hour, we heard cackling and whistling – the chickens had arrived. We could hear them stamping their little feet in the sand right outside our blinds, and we were excited for the pre-dawn light to increase so we could begin taking pictures. More and more of them flew in and we could tell there were probably between 6 to 8 of them dancing around in the dark. I peeked out and could just see a male off to my left puffing out his red-orange neck sac in the grey dawn. It was getting close to where we would be able to take pics – 10, maybe 15 minutes to go.

But then I heard one of the birds fly away off to the north. He’ll be back, I thought. But then another flew away….and another….and then several at once.  And then it went quiet, except for the wind.  They were gone.

I listened for a while, hoping they would come back.  I called Harland on his cell over in his blind. We decided to wait another 15 minutes or so. But they never returned. We crawled out of our blinds and packed up in silence.

As we began to walk back to our truck, the sun peeped over the horizon and highlighted the desert plants bathing everything in a warm orange glow.

Harland looked off into the distance.

We could hear the chickens cackling far away. It sounded like they were laughing at us. I couldn’t help but think about how nice the light would have been for taking pics of the now-departed chickens. Then the sun quickly slipped behind a cloudbank. We walked back to our red truck.

Once there, I consoled myself over the loss of the chickens by taking pics of wildflowers. The yucca was just starting to bloom.

Beyond the yucca there is a perfect example of a dejected Harland.

Oh dear….it’s a bad case of the gloomies.

Back to the flowers: This is a Pale Evening Primrose with a passenger.

 Don’t know my bugs well….but he looks like a grasshopper of some sort.   Anybody have a clue as to what he might be called?

This one is scarlett globe mallow.

I have no idea what this tiny white flower is.

Anybody know what it’s called?

UPDATE:  A friend of mine (Thanks Phyllis!) knows what the little white flower is:  Thicksepal Cryptantha

Never had an opportunity to take pics of any of these wildflowers before. Southwest Kansas is stark and flat and dry by comparison to our northeast corner where it is hilly and green. But I like the blue grey of the sagebrush. And the red sandy soil. And the skies so large you can watch a storm approach for an hour before it ever reaches you. You can see 10 miles in every direction.

I tried to console Harland by telling him that at least we were able to see and hear the chickens in person – we just didn’t get any pics to prove it though. He cracked a smile. One day we’ll get to see the Lesser Prairie Chickens again, AND hopefully get pictures. In the meantime, take a look at this video to see and hear their antics.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxo

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So if you’re new here, we have a herd of cattle, a cow-calf [...]]]> Oy! I forgot to show you pics from our spring cattle move over a week ago. Before I get to the pics from our roadtrip this past weekend, I’d better show you the cattle drive pics otherwise we’ll be all out of order.

So if you’re new here, we have a herd of cattle, a cow-calf operation. Every spring after the cows have had their calves, we round up the herd, give everybody vaccinations, load them onto a truck for a journey of about an hour and a half, and then release them into the summer pasture where they live until late October.

The spring move starts early in the morning. Harland’s brother Gerald, and his nephew Andrew help Harland when we work cattle. I’m on hand to help out where I can. We used several 4 wheelers to get the herd up out of the little winter pasture and drive them up into the lot. Then we separated the cows from the calves and put them in separate pens. This is done to prevent the calves from being accidently hurt by the cows while they are getting their shots.

And when we give the calves their shots we don’t have to worry about the cows trampling us in anger. So it’s safer for everyone to separate the cows and calves.

As we were sorting the cows from the calves, one of the calves slipped out of the lot under the gate back into the pasture, so Harland had to round it back up again and put it back in with the rest of the calves. Then we drove the cows through the chute in small groups and gave them their shots.

Exiting the chute.

Exiting the chute

Exiting the chute

Then it was time to give the calves their shots. Unfortunately, the gate popped open and they came galloping out of their pen.

One of them jumped over a fence and got in with a group of last year’s heifers. So we got the heifers up out of their lot, sorted out the bad calf and put him back with the rest of the calves. Then we gave the calves their shots except for one - the same bad calf jumped another fence, this time to freedom – into the yard near the road. Now there was nothing to stop him from hightailing it over the hills and far away. But, lucky for us,  he wanted to stay near the rest of the herd and so he stayed just outside of the fence. We unfastened a fence panel, wrapped it around him, put a halter on his head and led, pulled, pushed, and cussed him back in with the rest of the calves. Then we gave him his shots.

All that was left then was to wait for the truck. There was time for us to have lunch and so I went into town for sub-sandwiches. When I got back, we ate and then the truck arrived.

We drove the cows back through the chute again and up into the truck in small groups where they were put in different compartments upstairs and down in the sem-trailer ensuring the load was evenly distributed. (The weight of the cows was about 25 tons total!) The truck then left for the summer pasture. We loaded the calves onto our smaller stock trailer, closed the door behind them, and we were off to the pasture too.

It makes me nervous to have our herd on the highway, so I was glad when we arrived to see the truck driver had gotten to the pasture safely and had already unloaded the cows into the pen. We pulled in, unloaded the calves into an adjoining pen, and then opened the gate in between the pens to let the cows and calves reunite. A frantic bawling on both sides began and continued until every mama and baby found each other in the crowd.

We left them alone to nurse and rest while we went in search of supper. We got a chicken dinner from a grocery store deli, drove to a quiet spot in the country and ate. Then we headed back to our cattle who by now had calmed down and were ready to be released into the pasture. We opened the gate.

Que the dramatic release of the herd music.

They ran out into the knee-high lush grass, gobbling down mouthfuls on the way. We walked behind them keeping them moving until they reached a quiet secluded valley.

A drink of water at the end of a long day

a drink and a cool dip

We watched them for a while to make sure everyone was ok.

Harland doing his impression of Yul Brynner from the "King and I"

It’s a strange thing to walk away from the herd after the long winter where they are dependent on us for everying from food and water, to helping them if they have trouble calving.

In the summer pasture they are dependent on us for – well, nothing. They have plenty of green grass and spring water. They have a pond where they can take a dip on a hot day. There are plenty of trees for shade.

It’s the best time of the year for our cattle.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

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