View o' the Dude

Call of Spring

Nothing quite says “springtime” in Wyoming like the buoyant and flutelike call of the Western Meadowlark!  I just got back from a quick visit out West which included a couple of days in Wyoming.  To hear the song of the meadowlark let me know I was home and sure made me happy!

The Western Meadowlark is the Wyoming state bird, so named in 1927.  It is also the state bird for 5 other states, but I like to think the meadowlark is happiest in the grasslands, prairies and fields of Wyoming. 

Meadowlarks are members of the blackbird family and were given the scientific moniker of Sturnella neglecta by none other than John James Audubon himself!  He chose “neglecta” because he believed this lovely songbird was often overlooked by the explorers and settlers to the area.

Meadowlarks are ground feeders, mostly living on insects and seeds.  They also build their nests on the ground; the female will find a slight depression in the earth, often a hoof print, and will weave a bowl shaped nest from grasses.  She will usually build it near a clump of grass or sage and also constructs a roof for the nest to protect it from the elements and keep the eggs and resulting babies dry.

You can usually hear these birds before you see them, but they are beautiful.  They have a striking yellow breast which is crossed by a distinctive black v-shaped band.  Often you will spot the males sitting atop a fence post singing their joyous song.  I think it sounds like they’re singing “T Cross is a pretty little place”!  Click here to listen to a meadowlark singing!

The next time you visit Wyoming and the T Cross, give a listen and just see if you don’t feel light hearted after hearing their song.

A Fly By Any Other Name…

Ace of Spades Wet Fly

Make no mistake.  I am not a fly fisherman, but I find the world of fly fishing to be immensely interesting.  Maybe because I took so much biology and entomology in school, the effort that goes into designing flies to fit the environmental moment fascinates me.

Flies fall into 4 basic categories:  dry, wet, nymphs and streamers.  There are a couple of others, but no need to overcomplicate this, right?  I have written before about the difference between dry and wet; dry imitates a bug above the surface of the water and wet imitates a bug in the water, either alive or dead.  Nymphs imitate, well, nymphs.  These are bugs in their infancy.  Streamers imitate dead bait fish in the water.

So a novice might be able to manage those four things and figure out what the fish might be biting on, but you cannot believe the variety of flies in each of those categories.  There must be thousands.  I’m not kidding.

Red Clown Nymph

And they all have such cool names, but it’s not always obvious from where the name was derived.  For example in the dry fly category you’ll find the gray wulf, blue dun, humpy, green drake, and cahill.  Wet flies include the coachman, the royal coachman, ginger quill, hare’s ear and the parmachene belle.  Nymphs and streamers also come in a wide variety with similarly interesting names.

Black Wulff Dry Fly

Olive Wolly Burger Streamer

One day I was putzing around the office when one of the dudes came in hoping to borrow a rod and get a lesson on fly fishing.  He knew about as much about it as me.  Mark, who is always very helpful, pulled down a fly rod from its perch on the porch and checked it out before passing it over to the dude.  He noted that the rod already was fixed up with a fly.  The dude took a look and said “Oh, perfect.  That’s my favorite fly!!  What is it??”  I found this very amusing, but without missing a beat Mark said, “Why that’s a green Johnson mayfly with a rooster tail.”  I swear my mouth gaped open.  Is there no end to this man’s knowledge?  I have learned from past experience to always watch Mark’s face very carefully when he is quick to spout off a little factoid like this.  It didn’t take long before he gave a big grin and sheepishly admitted that he had no idea what kind of fly was hooked onto the rod.

This did not diminish the dude’s enthusiasm and with a quick casting lesson he was off to Horse Creek to try his hand at it.  I don’t recall whether or not he had any luck with that green Johnson mayfly with a rooster tail or not.  But I can guarantee you; he had a great time trying!

“Here fishy, fishy!”
Maryann Kowalyshyn, the Fish Whisperer on Horse Creek

When you visit the T Cross, try your hand at fly fishing one morning or evening.  But if Mark tries to tell you what you’re fishing with exactly, take it with a grain of salt!  And remember when all else fails, just call out “Here fishy, fishy!”  It works.  I promise.

Colter’s Hell?

Thanks to a fund raising drive by the residents of Cody and Jackson Wyoming, the Yellowstone Park roads are getting cleared and the East entrance is slated to open May 3; the South entrance May 10!  (Due to sequestration budget cuts, the National Park Service was going to wait two weeks longer than normal hoping for the snow to melt!)  So in recognition of the efforts of the people of Wyoming and to celebrate one of T Cross’s neighbors, let’s take a look at Yellowstone National Park!

If you grew up in the ‘60’s like me, and have never been to Yellowstone, your image of the park may be like mine.  Cars lined up on a narrow road with bears hanging through the windows looking for a pik-a-nik basket as Yogi Bear and Boo-Boo would do!  Thankfully due to more knowledgeable wildlife management, bears no longer line the roads awaiting treats from families passing through.  Thank goodness or I would’ve had to of worn Depends on my trip!   You also no doubt have seen pictures of Old Faithful spouting water into the air, and maybe have seen pictures of bison and what not.  It is all of that and much more!

Yellowstone Park has an interesting history.  It was of course occupied by Indians first, primarily the Sheepeater branch of the Shoshone.  In 1807-1808, John Colter who also first explored the area of the T Cross, ventured into part of the park after he left the Lewis and Clark expedition.  He got into a scrape with the Crows and Blackfoot Indians in 1809, and while recovering from his injuries told of what he had seen on his adventure.  His stories of fire and brimstone left people believing he was delirious from his injuries.

They spoke thereafter of “Colter’s Hell”, but did not believe the stories to be true.  Over the years other fur trappers would roam the area and tell similar stories but it was all myth to those listening.  Even the infamous Jim Bridger explored the lands of Yellowstone in 1856, but because he was known to be a spinner of yarns, nobody believed his stories of petrified forests, boiling mud and steaming rivers either.

In 1871 geologist Ferdinand Hayden mounted an official expedition known as the Hayden Geological Survey.  He compiled a comprehensive report on the area and I reckon because it was “scientific” people finally sat up and listened.  He recommended that the area should be set aside and not be developed because of its uniqueness.  So, on March 1, 1872 Ulysses S. Grant established it as a national park, the nation’s first! (Isn’t it interesting how much faster things got done back in the old days?)  It was operated by the U.S. Army until 1918 when it was turned over to the newly established National Park Service.  Shortly after that, horse transportation was prohibited to travel through the park, giving way to the advent of the automobile which by then numbered over 1,000 visitors.

Yellowstone is huge; larger than Rhode Island and Delaware combined.  It covers 2.2 million acres, 96% of which are in Wyoming.  The park has an active volcano, 300 geysers, 290 waterfalls 15 feet or higher and 67 species of mammals!  It also has one of the world’s largest petrified forests.  Yellowstone Lake itself has 131.7 square miles of surface area, and is 410 feet deep at its deepest point!  That said, you can still see a lot just doing a day drive on one of the loops  going through the park along with some easy hiking.

When you come to the T Cross, I would definitely take an extra day or two and visit Yellowstone.  It is astounding, and you will be able to imagine what those early explorers must’ve experienced, and will be able to understand why people thought they were one enchilada short of the combo plate.  At T Cross you’ll be able to do your own exploring the way the trappers did; albeit with better food and sleeping accommodations!   Then you can return home with your own remarkable tales; which hopefully your friends and family will believe!

Thanks to Kel Smith for some spectacular photos from her Yellowstone ventures.  In case you missed it on Facebook, Kel launched her own website to display her photography and you can now purchase prints of western landscapes, critters, horses and cowboys!! Plus you can customize prints to include cool quotations or other expressions to fit the photo or the occasion!  Perfect for gift giving!!   Visit www.spiritofthewestphotography.com today!

T Cross Treasure Hunt

It’s morning down at the corral and the groups are getting sorted out to go in different directions based on the rider’s experience and comfort level.  It is always a special treat when Mark has time to take out a group of riders who are in his words “cowboy enough”.  He makes sure everybody’s set, and then he mounts up saying one of two things:  “Let’s go get lost” or “Let’s go see some country”.  Either way, you know you’re in for a treat!

No trail? No problem.

I have noted before that Mark has a built in GPS and need not have a trail to follow to get where he wants to go and back.  He very literally knows the Wyoming country like the back of his hand.   I told Mark the first time we took one of these divergent rides that if I was ever going to be a wranglerette, I would have to add a new feature to the T Cross activities:  The Surprise Pack Trip.  The way it would work is this; if I wound up getting lost and was not able to make it back to the ranch by dark, I would just holler “Surprise!!!  It’s a Pack Trip!” and the dudes would think they were getting in on something very special.  I still think this idea has potential.

It’s on these adventures that you are able to do some treasure hunting!  Mark likes to find out where all of the critters are hanging out, and in doing so, you can sometimes find evidence of their recent occupation in a meadow,  on game trail, or near a watering hole.  And it’s always exciting.  Of course, sometimes Mark likes to test your path finding skills and will stop at a point and ask you where the ranch is.  Or you’ll come across a trail and he’ll ask you where it goes.  I personally enjoy these tests, and find a lot of comfort when I am right on occasion.  It’s good to know if something happened to Mark, I’d be able to get us back…eventually.

Robyn and Earl pack out part of her future chandelier!

Am I smiling because I know the way home; or is it just glee over the elkhorn?

On a couple of these rides, Robyn and I both have been lucky to find elk shed.  Robyn has a nice start on a chandelier she’s hoping to build one of these days.  Last count, I think she needed just 14 more!  You tie them on your saddle and when you get back to your cabin you marvel at the fact you have a little piece of the wilderness to take home.  Of course packing these can sometimes be a challenge, but it’s worth it.

I have mine in a place of honor on a shelf by the fireplace.  It is very cool.  There are also a variety of carcasses of different critters that became part of the food chain.  I wrote earlier about Merle, the ram’s head Mark found early last summer.  Once when riding Mark pointed out an eagle feather laying out in the grass and I promptly jumped off of Idaho to scoop it up!  As I poked it in my hat band, Mark sang a little bit of Yankee Doodle to mark the moment: “Put a feather in her cap and called it macaroni!”  That feather is in a piece of Indian pottery sitting near the elkhorn; it always makes me smile to look at it and remember that day.

There’s no telling what treasures await us this summer!  So, get your boots and jeans packed, get ready to come to the T Cross and let’s go see some country!

A Little Western Culture

Those of you who have been to T Cross may have been treated to a sampling of cowboy poetry delivered by one of the cowboys during the weekly wagon ride!  Cowboy poetry has a rhyme and meter all its own which is distinctly (to my ear) western.  Since the turn of the century, cowboys have been turning their hand to poetry, which somehow doesn’t seem very rough and tough does it?  We are lucky to have their words preserved for us so that we can experience The West as it was, the cowboy lifestyle and the romance of the range.  Even today there are a good number of cowboy poets still working to preserve the rich cultural history and heritage of The West.

It so happens that April 21-27 is Cowboy Poetry Week!  This 12^th annual event was recognized by a U.S. Senate Resolution and is recognized by 23 state’s governors.   Now some of you may think you have never heard a cowboy poem, but I’ll bet a lot of you recognize the song “The Strawberry Roan”.  When I was growing up, my brother had the Marty Robbin’s Gunfighter album which featured this song, and I nearly wore a rut in the record playing it over and over again.  What you probably don’t know is that the poem was written by Curley Fletcher in 1915.  Curley was a rodeo cowboy and a fairly prolific poet.  He went to California in the 1930’s during the heyday of western movies.  He was successful in getting his poem about the rank roan horse published as a song in 1931.  Marty Robbins popularized it and although it has been sung by numerous others, his version is still my favorite.  Click here to have a listen!

Another early cowboy poet was E. A. Brininstool (1870-1957) who was not a working cowboy, but was a western historian best known for his writings on the Battle of the Little Bighorn and General Custer.  In 1914, he introduced a collection of poetry, Trail Dust of a Maverick.  He was born in New York and spent most of his life in Los Angeles, California and it is easy to tell from his writings how much he loved the West and in what high regard he held cowboys.  Here’s one of my favorites:

The West For Me

I love the peaks with their snow-bound caps; the stately mountains grand;

The pungent smell of the bending pines that tower on either hand;

The streams that leap through canyons deep and the winds’s low melody—

I heed their call, for I love them all—‘tis the West, the West for me!

I love the stretches of desert gray; the brown buttes grim and high;

I love the scent of the sagebrush flats; the blue of the vaulted sky;

The charm and spell of each new draw and sell, and the sifting sand-dunes free;

They grip and hold as their charms unfold—aye, the West, the West for me!

I love the trail through the lonely hills to the door of the old log shack,

And an insist strong is luring on as it calls and beckons back.

I love the croon of the low, sweet tune that sighs through the scrub-oak tree,

And the bubbling note from the wild-bird’s throat—ah, the West, the West for me!

I love the herds on the open rang; the riders who guard them well,

Who ride like fiends in the night stampede through the ocean of chaparral.

I love to dream in the campfire’s gleam of the days as they used to be,

And the stalwart men who were heroes then—so the West, the West for me!

Oh, the boundless West, and the wild, free life that is spent in the open air,

With the handiwork of the God of All in the plains and the mountains there!

I love the seep of the streams that creep from the hills to the throbbing sea,

And I hear their call as the shadows fall—oh, the West, the West for me!

Andy Nelson and his horse Lovie

I hope you’ve enjoyed this little bit of western culture.  And I hope we’ll see you at the T Cross this summer where you can experience The West yourself!  And who knows?  Maybe you’ll write some cowboy poetry of your own!