One More Week
We have been having amazing thunder and lightening storms as cold
fronts move in. It has really cooled down the past few days, but the
weekend was sunny and in the mid-90’s, which felt perfect. It was in
the low 80’s a few days ago, and I was actually cold as I had to
wear a sweatshirt while I worked. It should be interesting coming
back home to Maine, where I have heard is in the low 80’s. My blood
must have thinned considerably, and my body has adjusted to working
outside all day in extremely hot conditions.
The younger Wind Cave staff decided to go bowling Friday night. We
got free pizza because it was Scott and Kristen’s birthday, even
though Kristen couldn’t go because she had the campfire program that
night. It was a lot of fun, and I actually bowled a strike.
Excellent! Some maintenance guys that we knew showed up as well and
we had a good time chatting with them.
Monday we headed out with Barbara, the park biologist, and Dan Roddy.
They took us out into this valley where a small creek semi-flowed
through. We had to dig out a huge concrete basin full of what we
called mud poop. The basins are used as water reserves for bison
herds that would normally move to water sources, but are confined to
the park area, so the park has to provide some water for them. The
picture for this week is of me shoveling the mud out of the pit.
Previous to that, we followed up on a coyote kill along the roadside
with Barbara. It looked healthy, so they knew it wasn’t suffering
from mange. They took the collar off and dumped the carcass a little
ways off the road as a meal for some future passing carnivore.
It is most definitely Sturgis week as the motorcyclists are
everywhere! Mike told us that there are at least 5-10 deaths related
to motorcycle accidents during this huge biker week – yikes!
Everyone gets excited for it though – lots of celebration, etc. I
have seen and met some pretty interesting folk since the
motorcyclists have come through.
Tuesday we stood out in front of the VC with our tools and
presentation board, talking to random bikers and families who were
interested in what we represented. We spent the rest of the
afternoon cutting regen and got a lot done in what little time we
were out there – a whole meadow basically. It was great. And it felt
good because we could definitely see the results clearly. Duane, the
elk guy, stopped and helped us
cut. He is such a nice, down-to-earth guy with funny stories. I’m
glad he joined us for the afternoon. It made it go by a lot faster.
Wednesday we dug out the second concrete basin, which went
surprisingly faster than the first one, even though it may have been
a little bit bigger. I think we just had the right tools and we knew
exactly how to approach it. We stopped to check on the first basin
that we cleared out and noticed several elk footprints in the
surrounding mud and were satisfied that our work had already
benefited some of the wildlife here. We spent the rest of the
afternoon wandering around the area, seeing the sights and just
soaking in the sun. About mid-afternoon, I decided to head back to
Moby to fill up on water. Most of the journey back was across this
prairie plateau. Even though it was only a half-mile walk, it felt
like I walked forever. Everything is so dry out here. The light rain
we received on Monday was greedily soaked up, leaving no trace of it
ever having rained recently. This semi-arid region gives you a small
taste of what it would be like in a desert, and it is a scary,
unmerciful place. The unchanging landscape of crusted, yellow grass
seemed to extend indefinitely into a shimmering horizon as I licked
my salty, parched lips with what little moisture my tongue retained.
Walking seemed like a mechanical motion as one foot goes in front of
the other, pushing me closer to my destination. Soon the rhythmic
movement goes unnoticed as my body becomes numb and it is as if I
was floating across the plains. The unusually harsh sun prickled and
burned my skin and the sheer force of the rays felt like it is
pressing me slowly into the dusty, brown dirt. I only came back to
my senses when I accidentally walked through a prickly-pear plant
whose sharp needles pushed right through my mesh sneaker, sinking a
quarter-inch into my foot. I am used to this unpleasant sensation,
so bearing the pain, I simply pulled the needle out and continued
toward Moby. Squinting against the bright sun, I scuffed up the dry
dirt and tried to pick up my pace because my dry thirst was almost
unquenchable. However, the one wonderful thing about the plains is
the occasional passing breeze. I looked up to watch the grasses in
front of me sway harmoniously to the whistling of the wind. The cool
breeze hit my face as I breathed in its wonderfulness, giving me
just enough encouragement to complete my arduous hike to the truck.
Finally climbing over the small hillcrest, I skipped down the
downhill side out to the gravel road where the great white whale lay
beached. Rushing over to the truck bed with a final burst of energy,
I pulled up the water cooler. The cool, fresh water that escaped the
small opening and splashed into my mouth was amazing. Water never
tasted so good.
Thursday we finished up SCA presentations and cutting regen in the
back meadow off Highway 87. The day went by fairly quickly, which
was nice. This week is almost over, and I can’t wait to come home!
Only one more week!!
