How I Learned To Drive

Heading off into the foothills of Gold Country brought back a lot of memories.  This caterpillar was the sight I saw when I began to reminisce.  When you grow up on a ranch, you learn to drive early.  Someone has to go switch the water from check to check, pasture to pasture.  Truly, I didn't mind because I got to drive the Jeep.  Jeep, as she was affectionally named, came through World War II with more than a few bullet holes.

You had to have magic feet in order to get the transfer case to shift.  I don't know who, probably my Dad, screwed wooden blocks on to the brake and accelerator pedals so we could reach.  My first trip around the yard ended up straight into a tree.  I think I was maybe six?

It didn't take long to figure out this was FUN!!!  I learned to drive long before that license would be required.  In the meantime we learned how to head on off down the road to the back pastures.  By seven, I was a pro.

One day when I was about 15, we were moving cattle by truck to Mariposa.  Dad threw the keys to me and said get in.  Wait ... what?  You want me to drive this huge truck full of cattle?  No WAY!!!

Yes WAY, and off we went.  Also a stick shift, this one had to be double-clutched in order to shift gears.  Clutch in, shift out of gear, clutch out and accelerate, clutch in and shift INTO gear, clutch out.  I got pretty good at it, if I do say so myself.  That part where I almost tipped the truck over going around the first curve when the cattle all shifted to the left was ........ well ......... scary and a real good lesson!!

Later on when we basically went broke and had to sell all the cattle, our neighbor came by and suggested we grow rice.  That's when I saw a D9 Cat, similar to this one.  I was in heaven!!  I begged and begged to operate one.  Finally my dad relented (I was maybe a freshman in high school by then) and said I could disc the field but I better NOT get stuck or I'd never drive again.

Lucky for me, I had a good ear for those powerful engines and knew exactly when to lift the disc to keep from bogging down in the mud.  At the end of the day I was so proud to tell him ..... see I didn't get stuck, not once!!!  That landed me on the little D4 cat discing the back 40 for days on end.  It was heaven I tell you!!!

Lots of memories of driving cattle trucks and horse trailers through this country.

One of the places we rented to graze cattle was like this one.  See those lines crossing the side of the mountain?  Those are rock fences.  Way back in the day, barbed wire cost way too much for the people trying to raise livestock here.  What they did have a lot of was rocks and Chinese gold miners.  

Most of the walls in this area were built by the Chinese rock masons, although occasionally the Scottish put in their two cents worth of masonry skills.  The walls cleaned the fields of rocks for livestock and were an easy way to keep cattle in a specific area.  Built in the 1850's with no mortar of any kind, many of these walls still stand today, all over these foothills.

There are also lots of lone dead trees, perfect for your photography skills.  Watch out though, this road is very narrow and winds around corner after corner.  There are very few places to pull aside.  Most of the time driving those cattle trucks, I took up the entire road.

Is this not the cutest face?  He and about ten others were in a small corral next to the cemetery.  This little boy was the most curious, coming right up to the fence to see what I was doing.  I miss those critters.

So today I'm off to the dentist.  I got a call yesterday to reschedule my appointment they cancelled due to C19.  Wear a mask they said.  Ummmmmm so just how do you clean my teeth if I wear a mask?  Oh you don't really need one, we just have to ask you all these personal questions and tell you to wear one.  Okay ......  hey, if it's safe for protestors and rioters, it must be safe for me.  

Joaquin Murietta and Three Fingered Jack

As with all stories of the Old West, newspapers embellished everything to acquire readers.  So many tales were told of Joaquin Murietta and his gangs that no one can really believe much of what was published.  First off, there wasn't just one gang, there were five.  Many of the men involved were related to Joaquin, several being brothers.  Some even had the same name, although there is speculation about the spelling of his last name.

In the little town of Hornitos, most people were of German, French and Italian descent, not necessarily happy with the Mexicans who came to steal their horses.  Joaquin's brother was killed over such an event and his young wife ravaged, some say dying in his arms.  Joaquin was out for revenge.  This is the first view of the little town with only two streets to it's name.

As a young'n, I spent a lot of time at Roy's Cafe.  Our 600 acres of pasture was not enough to keep 300 head of cows and calves fed.  We leased land up in this neighborhood when the grass grew tall and trucked cattle back and forth.  

Most often, we had leftover pancakes filled with peanut butter for lunch.  Dad hated it, so quite often we would stop in at Roy's for lunch.  If I remember right, a grilled cheese sandwich was always on my list of edible items.  Sadly it is now closed.

Like many other towns up in the foothills, buildings are made of brick with steel doors that opened to the street.  If there was a fire, at least some of the buildings contents would be saved, not to mention keeping bandits out.  Joaquin and his men were not shy about walking in and taking anything they wanted.

This is Joaquin, or so the papers say.  It's hard not to feel sympathy for the man who was horsewhipped after watching his brother and beautiful wife killed.

Finally fed up with the gang's activities mostly consisting of stealing and killing, California Governor Bigler created the State Rangers, putting Captain Harry Love (former Texas Ranger) in charge.  In 1853, frustrated because they had not found their quarry, they encountered a group of Mexican men near Coalinga California.  In a shootout, three Mexicans were killed.  

The rangers claimed one was Joaquin and the other Manuel Garcia, known as Three-Fingered Jack.  As proof of their death, so as to claim the $1,000 reward money, they cut off Jack's hand and allegedly Murietta's head and preserved them in a jar of alcohol.  

Later, a Los Angeles man wrote to the newspaper saying they murdered the wrong guys and bribed people to swear that's who was in the jar so they would get the cash reward.  No one believed him, and the next year the rangers were awarded an additional $5,000 for stopping Murietta.  

In the meantime, they really had no proof that the men they killed were actually Joaquin Murietta and Three Fingered Jack, shown here.  

A side note ..... just after all that happened, Domenico Ghirardelli came to Hornitos and built a general supply store to sell not only his chocolates, but supplies to miners.  It was NOT a success.  He returned to San Francisco not long after and the store was turned into a saloon.

On with the story .... this is the town Jail.  It is truly not known if Joaquin or Jack ever spent any time here, but the head and hand supposedly did.  As a kid, this was more of a tourist town, and showing off the old jail was their number one attraction.  I spent quite some time inside, even viewing what was purported to be the head and hand in a huge apothecary jar high up on the one shelf.  THIS is that jar with a real head .... and you thought I was kidding!!  

At some point the jar was taken back to a San Francisco museum after traveling around so people could pay $1 to look at it.  Twenty five years later, Joaquin's sister was heard to say she SAW the jar and that was NOT her brother Joaquin.  Sadly they never resolved the mystery because it was destroyed in the 1906 earthquake.  That pretty much destroyed my childhood memory of 1958, thinking that was the ACTUAL head I saw.

There's one more story about the Jail.  There were lots of Chinese laborers working the mines around here, one of whom was named China John.  He was harassed terribly by some boys, making him mad enough to pull out his little revolver and shoot in the ground, but alas, the bullet ricocheted off a rock and barely grazed one of the boys.

People went crazy and they locked him in the jail.  That night a bunch of men somehow got him to come to this tiny window (probably with drugs) and were able to get a noose around his neck.  They pulled on it until China John's brains were smashed all over the inside of the window.  He was found the next morning.

The blood stains on the wall were visible until they were covered with a coating of lime.  So there you have it ... death in the Hornitos Jail, which only has two windows by the way, one on each side, and they are about 8 inches square.  There was only one escape since the jail was built on solid bedrock.  Some cowboys came and chipped out one huge block in order to remove their buddy, never to be seen again.

For such a tiny town, this one has lots of history, rumors and stories worth telling.  I'll be back on that road soon!!

Dum Tacet Clamat

In the land of gold prospecting and bad men, you will always find a cemetery.  A few more miles up into the foothills of the Sierra Nevada Mountains, you will find this little almost abandoned gem.  This is what remains of Hornitas, the name being changed to Hornitos in 1877, meaning little ovens in Spanish.

Why little ovens?  Because that was the shape of the headstones in the ever increasing cemetery on the hill above town.  As you wind your way up the hill, this is the first thing you see.  It's Saint Catherine's Church, built in the 1860's.  Although funerals are held here, I've never actually been IN the church.  Notice the rock supports on the sides, keeping her steady in the event of an earthquake.

It's very eerie up here and seems to go on forever.  Many of the graves have disappeared into the dirt, so walk lightly.  Sadly, the little oven headstones no longer exist.  

This was a diversified lot of men from Italy, Germany, France and even farther away places, all looking for that pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.  

There are entire families with multiple generations buried here.  When the gold mining didn't work out, many worked as lumberjacks, cutting and hauling the big trees from the mountains down to Merced Falls to the saw mill.  It was dangerous work.

Joaquin Murietta, controversial Robin Hood of the West, hung out here in Hornitos, robbing people and banks.  Although there is little REAL information, it is said he and his brother were accused of stealing a mule.  His brother was killed and he was horsewhipped.  It is said his young wife was raped and possibly killed, whereupon he hunted them down and killed every one.

As time went on, Joaquin organized several gangs who worked in the stolen horse industry, running them to Mexico.  When not actively pursuing their business, they robbed gold miners, supposedly killing about 40 people in this area.  

In 1853, he had done enough damage that the legislature hired a company of 20 California Rangers to hunt him down, paying them $150 a month with rewards up to $1,000.  Needless to say, that was a lot of money that had the rangers fired up.  There's so much more to this story, but I'll write about it later in the week.

It is interesting to note that in 1919, Johnston McCulley supposedly got his inspiration from this story to write ZORRO.

So what is Dum Tacet Clamat?  It's what is carved on this tree trunk headstone.  Way back in 1890, a not for profit fraternal benefit society was founded in Omaha Nebraska to (among other things) create headstones for it's members so they would not be forgotten.  It's Latin for "though silent, he speaks".  Mr. Adams buried here, speaks loudly with this most unusual headstone.

Many remain completely silent, as their headstones no longer exist.  The little town has tried to keep up the cemetery, but sadly, it falls into disrepair, not helped along by their yearly Day of the Dead celebration.  It is held at night, with candles left burning everywhere.  

Amazingly, there are not that many graves of children, which is not the usual case in a tiny mountain gold town like this.  This baby died at two years of age in 1821.  

There is a lot more history, but I'll share it tomorrow to keep this from getting too long.  I know you'll be interested in the story of Three Fingered Jack!!

Ghosts of Merced Falls

This being gold country in the 1800's, not far from me up in the foothills lies the little town of Merced Falls.  It was originally named California Ranche Crossing, then Belts Ferry since this was one of the few places to cross the Merced River coming from the Sierra Nevada Mountains.

Today it's a great fishing location.  There is a small dam that controls the water levels since this is what irrigates many of the properties below IF they had water rights when the property was originally purchased.  Believe it or not, it's also salmon spawning territory.

A huge flour mill was built here in 1856, using the power of the water.  That was followed in 1857 by a post office and in 1867 by a woolen mill.  Strategically placed water wheels ran the whole shebang. There might have been a saloon or two, but nothing that was rowdy enough to be written about.

Sadly in August of 1895 the entire town burned to the ground.  This is all that is left of the mills with a few concrete foundations hidden in the grass.

Also at this location the Yosemite and Sugar Pine Lumber Company built two sawmills to cut up logs brought down from the Yosemite National Park area (before it was a park).  The logs were cut up and shipped out by the Yosemite Vally Railroad.   These ran from 1912 into the 1940's, increasing the town's population to around 1500, mostly lumbermen.

Evidence of the railroad still remains up in the foothills, following the river all the way down to Merced Falls.  If the tracks were really steep, they set up steam donkeys (steam machines with cable systems) to hook on to cars and keep them from running away down the hill.  

Once at the bottom, the logs were rolled into the river and floated to the pond, as in the above picture.  The men rode the logs as they maneuvered them into the chain that pulled them into the mill.  This car has three logs ... most only had ONE they were so huge.

Much of the concrete sawmill remains at the edge of the river, but it's all on private property.  Believe me, you will get shot by the grumpy old man that lives nearby.  The mill lasted until about 1943 when it shut down.  When the Central Pacific Railroad was built along the North-South corridor of the Central Valley, the town became basically abandoned.  There are only a few residents left, along with one very old bar, now closed.  They are always the last to go.

This is one of the haunts of ..... wait for it ..... Joaquin Murietta and Three-Fingered Jack, or so the stories go.  I can certainly imagine them riding out across this gorgeous country on the exact same road I'm driving on ... without the pavement that is.

Next up ... JAIL and it's sometimes partner, the CEMETERY.  

All Stitched Up ...

Amazingly, that's not me, but my quilt that's all stitched up.  Often there is an accident or two and it's ME that needs stitching.  I really do try to be extra careful around sharp things.

While the world is going absolutely cra-cra, I've been locked up in my sewing room trying to ignore most of it.  Renaming the military bases?  That's as bad as tearing down all those beautiful statues that remind us of the historical accounts of this country.  Erasing history isn't going to change a thing.

I AM glad I don't live in Washington State.  I contemplated that a few times, but with the weather and the pending doom of the biggest earthquake in history, I decided I'd be better off burning up in the desert.  That's certainly better than the Mayor of Seattle ceding an autonomous zone to protestors, giving them free food with no police presence while they vandalized nearly stores.   Who is paying for the damage there?

So I've been sticking my head in a big pile of fabric and sewing.  My biggest protest so far has been to hit the Save Mart grocery store.  I'm sad to say things are still not back to normal.  Seriously, everyone must be on unemployment ... can't blame them with the bucks they are making.  Sugar, flour, any kind of disinfectant product and toilet paper are still in short supply here.  My groceries came to $174.00.  Almost everything in the store has been upped in price by $1.00 EACH.  Avocados-$1.99 each.   Nuts that were $9, now $10.

I admit, I did stock up on laundry and dish detergent, only because I had coupons.  I figured it would at least give me something to do as I rearranged my entire laundry room full of junk.  Truthfully, it's a junk room with a washer and dryer thrown in.  How exciting to have a goal in mind for two hours!!

I spent the rest of the day working on this quilt.  It looks a little better from far away.  Each of those triangles is made up of ten pieces sewn together.  It's WAY too busy for my eyes!!  At any rate, that makes SIX stacked up for the quilter in Arizona.  I'm going to be bankrupt just paying for quilting.

Just for kicks, and to prove I really am going nuts, check out this kid on Facebook.  This is Pluto who has a little different outlook on life.  I think he is a she, but who could tell from the name.  He gets his words confused here and there, says to Googily things and talks about his mom using his clippers to shave her legs during her lockdown.  Wiki-licki-pedia is another of his favorites.

In between all the excitement, I've been going on-line (on my phone since my internet connection only works at 4:00 in the morning) and taking test after test.  Not about what animal I really am or what my names means in Swahili, but DMV driving tests.  I'm trying to get a head start on the test I have to take July 1st.

In California now, there are TWO driver's license classifications.  The REAL ID allows you to purchase ammunition and fly.  The regular driver's license allows ANYONE, illegal or not, to drive in California.  Too bad it doesn't require them to provide insurance too.

At any rate, I've passed all the tests, about 30 questions each, with only missing three at the most.  Believe it or not, I've had my driver's license renew by mail since I was 16 years old.  So ... at what age can you leave your kid in the car alone?  Anyone?  Yeah, I missed that one too.  It's six.  Now I know!!

Before starting another quilt, I need to find my social security card, two pieces of paper that show my social security card number, at least three bills that show my street address and my name, along with my passport and for good measure, my birth certificate.  I'm not kidding.  Just to get a driver's license.  I heard they were also asking for marriage licenses and divorce certificates.  I REALLY hoping I don't have to go there!!

I CAN SEE!!! Sort of .....

Good news!!!  At long last my truck made it to the repair shop.  Prince Charming (from the Elks Lodge) picked me up so I didn't have to walk four miles.  It's SO nice to have friends.  I did a double cross with my fingers that it would not be over $500, my guesstimate if I took it to the dealership.

For the next two hours, I wandered aimlessly around the house trying not to get dirty like my Mom told me when I was a kid.  It didn't work.  All it took was one sit-down on Jessie's couch spot (totally by mistake) for my black shirt to be covered in dog hair.

Soon enough I was off to the Docs, not knowing exactly what to expect.  We are rather radical here and are completely open, no thanks to our Governor.  I was rather surprised to find only ten chairs in the huge waiting room.  To be honest, it was rather nice not to be sitting next to someone sneezing or by the guy who was breathing like a freight train.

Even better, instead of the normal wait time of two hours, I was in the door in 20 minutes.  Woohoo!  There were all kinds of tests and measurements before seeing the Doc who appeared completely covered from head to toe.  He looked like he just came from surgery.  Maybe he did, who knows.

Please note, this is not me, as I'm sure you could tell.  Unfortunately, I got the dilated eyes treatment. Gosh I hate that.  First, the numbing stuff, then not one, but TWO kinds of drops.  Two more tests and I was back waiting in the same room ... that was fast ... for the bad news.

TA-DA!!!!  My eyes are just hunky dory.  The double vision I'm experiencing is due to my prescription glasses, in spite of me complaining to the "glasses" doc.  The bad news is I cannot get a NEW prescription from THIS doc (the pro) for another twelve days, meaning I won't get new glasses because I'll be where?  In Arizona!!  You get the gold star!

In the meantime, California DMV has finally seen fit to reschedule me for my new REAL driver's license, on July 1, which is of course BEFORE I get my new glasses.  Keep your fingers crossed for me!!  In the meantime, I've found the eye chart they use and I'm memorizing it as I type!  

In other good news, DMV has finally deposited my $22 check for a replacement title to my Jeep.  I mailed it to them around the first of May.  Hopefully I get it BEFORE leaving for Arizona where I plan to register it.  SO many irons in the fire .........

Oh wait ..... my truck!  So Prince Charming was nice enough to come pick me up at 4:30 and drive me back to the repair shop.  You're not going to believe this ..... my truck air conditioning works like a charm and it only cost $114.00.  Can you believe it?  I was so excited I sang "99 Bottles of Beer On The Wall" all the way home!!!

Hopefully the rest of the stuff sorts it's way out in record time.  There's not much on the schedule for today since my eyes are so scratchy and dry, but I'm determined not to stay home.  Maybe I'll just "rest my eyes" while I snooze on the couch, becoming a dog hair magnet.

A Whirlwind Of Energy

Not really.  Energy is something that went bye bye about two birthdays ago.  I do actually have the want, just not the get up and go.

I was up early to finish packing for the trip to the dump.  I haven’t been there since I was probably ten.  It used to be you just drove in, dumped your stuff and waved at the guy soon to be scrounging through your throwaways for stuff he could sell.  Once in a blue moon someone would run a caterpillar up over the top.

I stopped for two seconds on the way out to admire my hydrangea.  Once a year they are downright pretty!

What a difference a few years makes at the dump.  Now you drive on to the scales, one at a time, and wait for the guy ahead to pay his deposit (just to be sure you don’t run off without paying the “official” dollar amount) and pick up three sodas and two candy bars.  No kidding, they sell food here?

With my tag in hand and sketchy directions, I headed off to locate the appliance dump.  The old microwave was past it’s prime.  With no one to direct me, I just dumped it on the ground.  Next up, I got in line to drop off the wood.  At one point I jumped out and ran to the guy behind me, asking if he had any idea where in the heck I was supposed to go.  He didn’t have a clue.

At last a nice man said I was going the wrong way.  Lucky for me, that meant I wasn’t going to have to pay the big bucks.  He called in the change and backed me into a pile of logs.  

Ten minutes later I had unloaded 260 pounds of wood.  How could that be?  No wonder my back hurt this morning.  On the way out, I was just praying I didn’t get a flat tire with all the nails and broken glass.  

After another even longer wait in line, I was weighed out the door with a $20 bill.  I too had to pay a $40 deposit.  Just like McDonalds, I got change back.  No pictures, as it was all I could do to keep from getting run over by about twelve HUGE garbage trucks dumping in the exact same spot as me.  It was exciting, to say the least.  Everyone was honking and waving their arms like it was the fourth of July.

Back home, I worked on my cooking skills, taking a chance on scones.  I love scones if they aren’t too dry.  With a brand new bakery recipe in hand, I whipped them up in record time.  Weirdest recipe ever.  No milk, no eggs, no butter, no shortening … just cream, flour, baking powder, salt and the flavoring of your choice.  

I was even able to scrounge up some sugar chunks for the top.  Not near sweet enough, I smothered them in a fresh lemon glaze.  Woohoo that made my mouth pucker!!  I gave them the real test this morning with my coffee.  They get a B+.  Next up, either maple or blueberry.  I apologize I can't give out the recipe.  It did come from a bakery and I promised not to give it away.

With those done, I spent another 30 minutes getting soaked in the back yard, trying to figure out why I have these big brown spots in my lawn.  One sprinkler was plugged with blue stuff, maybe pipe glue (?) and one was completely buried under mud.  Oh the fun!!

I’m off this morning early to drop my truck at the repair shop.  After that, an eye appointment.  Assuming I can see, I’ll drive back home and call everyone I know for a ride to get my truck.  Worst case, I can walk.  It’s only about four miles.  I have to work off those scones somehow!!

The Truth Comes Out

I don't know about you guys, but I'm about fed up with all this nonsense and the lies being spread like wildfire, not to mention the burning and looting.  I had decided I would keep my nose out of controversy and just talk about the mundane side of life, until this came out.

There are just no limits to the things people will do, possibly even causing the death of thousands who might have been cured had they taken the medicine.  I'm shocked that a part of this country would stoop this low, just to defame the President.

There's more to the article, but enough said.  

So .... on with the boring and mundane things in my life.  With the Elks Lodge not up and running yet, the only exception being a dinner once a month, I'm officially going crazy staying home seven days a week.  

The appointment I made to get my truck's air conditioning repaired was cancelled.  They cannot fix it while I wait, so I need a ride.  No one was available to play taxi, so I rescheduled for Wednesday.

One tiny problem raised it's head.  I've pretty much been seeing words on the written page in a broken stereoscope.  Double the letters would describe it ... which makes it hard to read.  I need new glasses, but can't get an appointment until September when I'll be gone. 

I called the Doc who did my surgery and installed the experimental eyes nine years ago.  Lucky me, he can see me Wednesday.  Does that day sound familiar?  Yup ... same day as my truck.  At the moment, eyes are more important than air conditioning.  You do have to make choices in life.

Just to pass the time, I headed out back to my junk pile, deciding at long last to load up all those old pallets.  They've been out there so long they are now rotten to the core.  These were the base of my haystack, usually around 90 bales.  I have to say I don't miss crawling up on top to throw down a couple of bales here and there to feed the horses.  Nor do I miss paying $20 a bale to feed one horse three days.  No one said horses were cheap.

This morning I'll make a quick trip to the dump and dispose of this mess, including those 29 black widow spiders that live in the cracks.  Gloves are a must.  Add to that the broken microwave oven.

Silly me, I completely forgot about my so-so back, which quickly reminded me this morning that I'm older than dirt.  The truth comes out ... I think I'm getting close to the "old folks home"!!

Millions of Birds

Most surprising about Merced County is their bird population.  Although all you see as you travel down Highway 99 is town after town, there are other attractions further out in the wide expanse of the valley farmlands.  Take the Correctional Facility for instance.  It's basically right next door.  The plan was for them to grow all their own food.

That didn't last long at all since prisoners around here would rather sit on their beds than work outside.  So much for rehabilitation.

Back when this wildlife refuge was created, times were tough in the farming business.  Our cattle ranch was going broke selling cattle for 35 cents a pound when they cost 50.  To help out with the money side of the equation, my Dad would hire on as a caterpillar and heavy equipment operator at night while working our cattle during the day.

He started out in the rice fields, a pretty muddy messy kind of place to work.  Once the rice has grown to size on a steady diet of water, the fields are drained and left to dry.  It always took too long to dry and the rice had to be harvested.  He was such a good operator that when the refuge came about, he hired on to build their system of levies and dams to control the same water to allow migratory birds the perfect stop-off point.

The huge number of birds were completely destroying everything in site, causing the farmers to go broke.  This refuge was built providing them the perfect habitat and food resource to keep them away from farmers fields.  It worked.

It was a funny group of guys that built and maintained the refuge, these nighttime drivers who were always playing practical jokes on each other.  If you don't know what axle grease is, it's very thick, sticky and nasty to smell.  They were always putting it on each other's sandwiches and even on the seat of the tractor.  What a mess that was to clean up once they sat in it to the screaming laughter of the guy who put it there.

During the winter months, millions of birds lay over here gorging on rice and hay fields during their wintertime vacation.  The number of birds is staggering, as is the varieties.  The main component is Canadian geese, great blue herons and sandhill cranes.  Unfortunately on this day, all I could see was this crow.

I knew it was the wrong time of year ... winter had come and gone, as had spring.  That means all the water had been let out the back door and the fields were dry as a bone.  I drove and drove before finally seeing this little dove.

At LAST!!  A beautiful little white egret.  These guys stick around all year long, waiting for the nice tender shoots of hay and corn which they don't eat.  What they are after is tiny shrimp, fish, frogs and even mice, usually in the ditches next to farmers fields.

I was a tad late.  That means no birds.  I drove for a couple of miles before finally discovering a bit of water left in one field.  In spite of my driving ever so slowly and creeping along the road on foot, they have an eye for movement and I scared them into flight when I tripped over a log.  RATS!!

My stalking skills need some improvement.  Although there are some blinds out here just for photography, there was nothing to hide behind along the narrow dirt road.  The view across the expanse of the refuge was pretty boring.  This is usually full of water and a huge variety of things that fly.

Out in the middle are huge rafts of cattails that are perfect for hiding your nest of babies.

Only one other field had just a bit of water left and about two dozen egrets.  They are pretty spectacular when they all fly up at once.

I drove the entire property which is over 10,000 acres.  The main reason for building this refuge was to lure the migrating birds away from farmers fields where they were destroying crop after crop.  With lots of good feed and water here, farmers can actually harvest their own crops and get them to market. 

This is what it looks like when the birds are actually here.  I have some great images ..... somewhere!!

It was a nice diversion and the best part ... I didn't see a sole the entire day.  Most likely they knew all the birds were long gone.  Better luck next time.

About Those Ribs ....

There are lots of different smokers out there.  The Dad of one of my oldest friends used a refrigerator.  Way back when Amazon Prime first showed up, I bought this Bradley.  I got free shipping and 50% off.  About three feet tall, it's perfect for my back yard and my experimental cooking.

Smoking is something you have to do often to keep your skills up to par.  I haven't done that.  It makes it hard to "try" things when the meat costs so much.  Since the chicken came out entirely edible, I wanted to try ribs again.

There are just as many rubs for the meat as there are men in the world.  I had a great one (a rub that is), but of course can no longer lay my little fingers on the recipe.  In desperation, I combined three different ones that sounded good.  But first, you dye your fingers by smearing yellow mustard over the entire thing.  Surprisingly, it does not add any flavor.

Once doused with your favorite spices, you let it sit in the fridge for a couple of hours, then on the counter for 30 minutes before stashing it in the smoker at 220 degrees.

It's a process.  There's lot of couch sitting in between tending the ribs.  Spray with apple juice once each hour.  After two hours, you hit the STALL, whatever that is.  Time to take them out, wrap in heavy foil and back they go, at which time you turn the smoking part off.  One more hour and you sauce them up nicely before one LAST hour (or 30 minutes in my case) makes them perfect.  

They were fall-off-the-bone tender.  Remind me to add more salt to the next recipe.  One long rib (cut in half for smoking) will last me four days.  Oh my goodness they are GOOD!!!

One last picture so you can see just how meaty these were with little to no fat.  Costco sells prime beef and pork .... the best in my book, even if it does cost a little more.  At least that $40 package had THREE big slabs of ribs in it.  

Just to celebrate my WIN in the smoking department, I made a quick trip to the Yogurt store.

After resting up from such a tasty meal, I headed on off to the local Wildlife Refuge.  Everyone said it was closed, but SURPRISE!!  The gates were open.  It felt good to be stalking wildlife again.