Prairie retrospective

I’m back home sitting at my desk.  Laundry is mostly done and the yard has been mowed.  Time to try to put it all into some perspective. 

Let’s go back to the beginning.  The motivation for the trip, at its most basic, was to see grasslands and grassland birds with the realization that both are in serious declines.  I had the good fortune to see wide open landscapes that seem to have retained most of the functional parts.  The Flint Hills and the Sand Hills are still functional grasslands. 

What quickly changed was that the birds became less of the focus.  The big picture of healthy ecosystems replaced the birds.  I’m still a devout birder, but we can’t allow ourselves to become focused on any one species or taxa.  No bird lives independently of its environment, any more than a fish or human does.  And I think that’s an even more important topic of discussion – the relationship of people to the environment.  Our interest in the environment is also an interest in our survival.  That sounds dramatic, more so than I want to be, but it’s true.  What happens to animals will happen to people.  We all swim in the same pond.

Had you driven through western North Dakota 5 years ago, you might have assumed it would stay wide open.  What reason would you have to think otherwise?  Today you should come to a different conclusion.  The change has been rapid and significant.  The trip could not have played out to tell the tale any better.  I saw what is and what needs to remain, and I saw why we need to make every effort now to protect what we have.  The folks in Kansas have initiated the Flint Hills Legacy Conservation Area as a way to protect one of the last remaining pieces of the tallgrass prairie.  We can’t wait until they’re threatened to begin to act.  We have to be proactive not reactive.  The bad guys move a lot faster than we do; if the firewalls aren’t in place before they get started we have very little hope.

I sometimes think that as conservation professionals we’re little more than environmental janitors.  So much of what we’re doing is cleaning up others’ messes.  The secondary intent of the trip was to increase awareness of the loss of grasslands and grassland birds.  For once I want to prevent the mess.  Wherever possible, I want to keep what we have rather than try to recreate what was.  We have folks doing some amazing things to put some pieces back in place and I applaud their efforts.  There are a lot of messes yet to be addressed.  But there are also places where we have things worth protecting.  I don’t know if I can say if I was successful.  I may have just been preaching to the choir.

I think this wraps up the posts from my prairie pilgrimage.  I will continue to post material to this blog.  As I said previously, my areas of interest include grasslands and grassland birds, shade coffee, energy, and ecotourism, so I’ll extensively on them.  Whether you continue to follow this blog, I hope you’ll choose to act deliberately. 

Don’t just do; choose.

Northern North Dakota

Oil industry in ND.  It’s an onslaught. 

The ride north from Medora was worse than expected.  The amount of oil development was way beyond what I was prepared for.  It’s not bad around the Minot area where my friend Tighe lives, but the western part of the state was overrun.  The presence of the industry is everywhere.  Pump jacks, storage tanks, pipelines, trucks, people, new roads, and damage to the old roads…  Now I can see why there were no rooms available.  I’ve never driven US 85 or ND 23 before, but the proportion of vehicles that were obviously oil industry vehicles was huge.  I don’t think it would unreasonable to say that 1/3 to ½ of all the vehicles on the roads outside of cities and towns were oil industry related, although the towns were clearly overrun, too.  It’s awful. 

While the focus of this trip has been ecological, I find myself thinking as much or more about the inevitable impact on the local communities, too.  Minot is large enough that they can probably absorb the oil impact and even benefit – mostly.  I’m convinced a way of life will be lost in small towns over a large area.  The presence of the oil industry will overwhelm everything:

The number of people will increase – significantly and rapidly (it already has and will continue) and those people have money.  Land prices will skyrocket and taxes will skyrocket with them; will people be priced out of their homes?  How closely will the crime rate follow?    

Where once everyone knew each other, now there will be transient people.  Will they belong to the community or participate in it?  How much of the money they earn will stay in the community?

Enrollment in schools will increase; will infrastructure and staff keep pace?

There will be an increase in construction, but the demand will likely wane when the initial flush of activity ceases; what will happen to those buildings? 

With the increase in people and industry will come an increase in traffic (already noted), traffic from bigger vehicles which damage the roads (already noted) and make once quiet country roads dangerous.  Will it be safe for school buses or kids learning to drive?

The boom will be temporary, but the impacts will endure.  You can’t go backwards.  The change is permanent.  I’m not so naïve to assume things won’t or shouldn’t change, but the motive of the change and speed with which the change occurs is not planned and can’t be fully prepared for.   

The word sustainability comes to mind.  I hesitate to use it as it is almost becoming cliché, but it gets at the heart of what I’m questioning.  What I see happening is not sustainable in almost any way, certainly not ecologically.  And I saw no attempt to even suggest any effort to be sustainable.  They’re extracting what they can as fast as they can.  And without apology.  I’m starting to wonder why we bother with a written language – we certainly don’t seem to take the time to read the lessons of our history.

North from Rapid City

Trying to guess the weather is always risky.  I tried to avoid storms yesterday, but the weather was pretty good.  Left this morning and got soaked.  It seems like a natural question is why I’m making the trip on the bike rather than driving and not worrying so much about the weather.  There are several reasons, but the bottom line is connecting to the land and the environment.  I’m pretty new to riding, but realized shortly after I started the need to be as aware of my surroundings as possible.  In the public outreach segment of conservation, it’s commonly recognized that the American public is suffering from an environmental deficit.  We’re becoming more and more detached from the natural world.  When I ride I feel much more a part of the land through which I’m riding.  (I wear full gear, so maybe I should say I feel less detached.)  I like feeling cooler air in the low spots and being pushed by the wind at the crest of a hill.  Even more so, I like needing to know what to prepare for.  I don’t want to be able to be oblivious to my surroundings.  I think we’ve spent too much time in air-conditioned houses and vehicles.  I think it’s become easy to think we don’t need to worry about what happens outside.  I think that’s a dangerous place to be.  I don’t want to be there.  And to avoid sounding righteous, I’ll readily admit that I just plain enjoy riding, too.  It feels good. 

The ride north through western South Dakota put me back into open country.  As wide open as anything I’ve seen yet.  I was starting to smile even though I still had squishy pants.

Just south of the North Dakota state line I noticed what looked like oil wells.  I had intended to spend the night in Bowman, ND, but the motels were full.  I kept going and found the same situation when I arrived as far north as Belfield, ND.  When I asked why the motels were all full, they said because of the oil fields.  I firmly believe that energy policy dictates environmental quality.  The expansive prairies I’ve seen over the last 10 days or so could probably be mistaken for “big enough” and “safe.”  There is no such thing as safe.  

I just talked to my friend Tighe who lives in the Minot area.  It sounds like the flooding has very real potential to get worse.  I’ll probably have to adjust my schedule.  Again. 

Weather Delay in South Dakota

At work we call it “Adaptive Management.”  Right now I call it “adaptive travel.”  As I rolled out of Badlands NP and into Rapid City, SD yesterday afternoon the forecast called for severe thunderstorms with potential for high winds and large hail in this area for Sunday (today).  My plan calls for me to head north through western South Dakota along US HWY 85 into North Dakota.  North of Rapid City is Belle Fourche and then…almost nothing.  I didn’t want to get caught in a hail storm in western South Dakota with nowhere to seek cover, so I decided to stay in Rapid City until Monday.  I know that was the responsible or safe decision, but it’s sunny outside my window right now, so it doesn’t necessarily feel right.  The good news is that I just enjoyed a couple pints from the Firehouse Brewing Co., so I guess it’s not all bad.

I visited the Journey Museum here in Rapid City this morning to learn a little about the history of the area.  I wish I had a profound observation after my visit, but all I can do is shake my head.  The history of Rapid City and our presence in the Black Hills is the history of our interactions with Native Americans and our approach to our natural resources.  In fact, our interactions with the Sioux define our interactions with the Native Americans.  Do we appear to have learned anything?  No. 

Rapid City is pretty cool.  The brewery is housed in an old fire station and it’s called, appropriately enough, the Firehouse Brewing Co.  They have a collection of fire department patches including the District of Columbia.  My next younger brother is a DC fireman, so I was proud to see it them represented.  I had a couple good meals while in town, too, which has been welcome as the cuisine of the small towns of the Great Plains is not what I would call inspired.

I hope to get back on the road tomorrow.  The forecast still holds rain, but hopefully, no lightning.  I’m going to shoot for Belle Fourche and reassess the situation when I get there.  The forecast looks good again starting Tuesday.  I might be able to make it to my friend Tighe’s place in North Dakota if I get two good days.  I’ll be passing national grasslands and Theodore Roosevelt NP on the way and I’d like to take the time to have a look.

I saw this thunderhead north of Rapid City on Saturday - it reinforced my commitment to monitor the weather forecast.

The intersection of the prairie and the sky at Badlands NP.

Out of the Sand Hills and into South Dakota

Yesterday was probably my most completely grassland day yet.  Farther east I was never far from agriculture.  In fact, Phelps County Nebraska is one of, if not the, most irrigated counties in the country.  It very much reminded me of the intensive agriculture I’m used to in the Midwest.  In reality, I think it’s much worse because they have fewer trees and less topography to deal with.

I started my day in the Sand Hills and moved into the open country of southwestern South Dakota.  As much as I liked the Flint Hills and the Sand Hills, I might like this even better.  It’s just as open, but it’s a little more rugged.  More than once I looked toward the horizon and wondered how many western movies had been filmed there.  What I don’t know is how intact the grasslands are.  I didn’t see any public land where I could roam around.   A million acre putting green would be wide open, but it sure wouldn’t support much native wildlife.

One of my motivations for making this trip was to see the prairie (healthy, functional prairie) while it still exists.  That logic suggests I think it we may lose the prairie.  That’s exactly what I think.  We’ve already lost over 95% of the original tallgrass prairie.  And it continues to be lost to agriculture, energy development, and simple neglect.  Mixed and shortgrass prairies have survived better because they lack the deep, rich organic soils created by the tallgrass prairie.  However, pivot irrigation and nitrogen fertilizers have rendered many acres fruitful that were once considered unsuitable for agriculture; with the price of a bushel of corn, we can’t consider those ecosystems safe. 

The problem is that to too many Americans the prairie is an invisible landscape.

Who is responsible to make it visible?  Anyone who recognizes the problem and sees the need to protect the prairie.  For one, me.  My trip and this blog is one step in my effort.  On a larger scale, I believe conservation organizations, public and private, governmental and NGO, need to make it a collective priority.  Unfortunately, even agencies within the government sometimes have goals and projects that conflicting. 

 This morning I passed a unit of the Nebraska National Forest which just happens to lie within the Sand Hills.  If that sounds odd to you – good; it should.  That unit of the Nebraska National Forest is not a natural forest.  It was planted.  On the prairie.  There are two places in this country where tallgrass prairie exists on a truly landscape scale – the Flint Hills and the Sand Hills.  And in the Sand Hills there are trees planted and managed by an agency of our government.  It kind of annoys me that Arbor Day was started in Nebraska, but I can understand folks wanting to have some trees around their homes.  I’m way beyond annoyed that not only did our government plant a forest on the prairie, but we continue to support it.  Is it filling a need more vital than preserving our most endangered ecosystem? 

I wish I could say that’s an isolated example of a government agency with policy that “challenges” the preservation and conservation of our grasslands.  Our agricultural and energy policy continue to provide incentives to convert untilled land to row crops, which I find to be especially confounding since those acres yet to be tilled are in many cases those areas less conducive to farming while we also have policy designed to remove land from tillage where it is unsuitable.  In some cases we continue to encourage use of exotic plants that have the potential to become invasive in our prairies.  Current energy policy and funding support an increase in acres of land in corn and the use of non-native species as energy feedstocks.   The problem is certainly not restricted to governmental policy, but I don’t think it unreasonable to expect the government to assume a unified leadership position rather than continuing to create conflicting incentives. 

The bottom line is that we just don’t recognize grasslands as ecosystems, let alone as needing protection.  We know rainforests are endangered even though they’re thousands of miles away.  Grasslands are invisible ecosystems.  What will it take to bring national attention to the loss of our own native landscape?  A good start would be to bring national attention to our grasslands.  

Sand Hills at Valentine NWR

I never miss a chance to check out a snake!  A beautiful bullsnake.

From Hwy 44 west of White River, SD

Platte River to the Sand Hills

A day of not what I expected. I was expecting to head west fairly early, but woke up to wind, rain, and lightning. I was expecting to get a short tour of the Rainwater Basin WMD this morning. By the time the weather eased and I headed out, it was already mid-morning. The dirt road from the pavement to the Rainwater offices was damp and soft. The three miles on that road was the scariest ride I’ve had on my bike yet and I didn’t even meet Brice (and his twin brother Brad) until about 11:00. I got a pretty thorough tour of the Basin and by the time I got back on the bike to head out it was almost three o’clock. And I still didn’t have a plan. The good news is that the weather was great and the road was dry. I got as far as Broken Bow and when I saw the Arrow Hotel and the City Café I decided I’d gone far enough. A good place to sleep with good food in one spot – I’m good. And now there are thunderstorm warnings and watches, so the unexpected/unplanned might be the good answer.

My experience on the squishy dirt road also gave me a different perspective on the Sand Hills. The Sand Hills are exactly that – hills of sand covered with native prairie. My bike is a dual sport bike, but my tires are not suitable for much but hard-packed roads. Sand would be trouble even if it was dry and there’s rain in the forecast. That’s not the kind of adventure I want to jump into. As my Uncle Jack used to say “Discretion being the better part of valor…” I‘m going to have to be selective. I’m going to aim for Valentine NWR. My sources tell me most of the other sites I was considering would require pretty good treks down unpaved or barely paved roads. Valentine should have at least one good road to get me off the highway and into the prairie.

The road to Rainwater Basin WMD (on the way out!)

Heading out into the open space of the Sand Hills

In front of the Arrow Hotel in Broken Bow, NE

Prairie reconstruction alng the Platte River

Today I deviated from the plan.  Instead of looking at large-scale native prairies, I spent the morning with Chris Helzer looking at restored/reconstructed prairies on The Nature Conservancy property along the Platte River in Central Nebraska.  In my daily professional life back home, reconstructions are the norm.  That’s the bulk of what we do.  I’m here because Chris is doing some things very differently from the way we do them back in Wisconsin. 

The thing Chris is doing that’s most different from what we do is using grazing as a management tool.  Much as fire is intimately linked to grasslands, herbivory has also been an integral part of many grassland ecosystems.  Not many Americans don’t know the story of enormous herds of bison thundering across the Plains.  But I’ve heard conflicting opinions as to what extent bison influenced the prairies in the Midwest.  Regardless of what the historical role bison played, cows are a fact of life in much of the open lands of the west.  And Chris is using that to his advantage. 

The goal of his restorations is not to mimic or emulate historic prairies.  We don’t have enough information about what the prairies looked like or how they changed on seasonal or annual bases.  We do know that prairies were amazingly diverse and supported remarkable assemblages of plant and animal species.  The goal is to create as biologically diverse grasslands as possible in hopes of providing suitable habitat for as many animals as possible.  To successfully accomplish that we need to use all available tools possible.  Grazing is one of those tools.  Cows prefer some plant species to others, so some are favored while others get suppressed.  The number of cows used, when they’re allowed onto a field, the duration they’re in place, all have impacts on the end result, so cows be used to accomplish a number of specific objectives, with the end target of a more diverse prairie.  The results suggest that grazing is doing exactly that.

The second part of the story today was the relationship of, and interaction between, fire and grazing.  Like humans at a salad bar, cows select the freshest vegetation.  If given the choice between a field that is resprouting after a fire and one that is rank with decadent material, cows will choose the fresh leaves.  Chris and others have recognized that preference and are using it to focus cows’ effort.  It’s a fascinating idea that I could have listened to Chris describe for many more hours than we had available.  I was reminded, again, that prairies are complex ecosystems with many species and processes at work. 

Chris has a blog about his work (his obvious passion!) which he supplements with amazing photos he takes:http://prairieecologist.com/author/theprairieecologist/

A series of storms in the distance as the sun sets in Nebraska. 

Kansas to Nebraska

Yesterday, I left the Flint Hills and headed west and north toward the Sand Hills of Nebraska.  I stopped for a visit at Konza, but for the most part, it was a travel day.  During that westward run the land changed; perceptibly, but not necessarily in a way that I was been able to clearly verbalize.  At one point I just got the feeling that it looked more “western.”  I think it was in the shape of the land.  The hills were lower and farther apart.  The soil was sandier and less productive. 

My destination for the night was central Nebraska; Platte River country just west of Grand Island.  I picked this area intentionally as my friend Brice lives here and the Nature Conservancy has an active program here.  Brice works for the US Fish and Wildlife Service at the Rainwater Basin Wetland Management District.  I had dinner with Brice and his children, and Chris Rundstrom (TNC’s land steward in this area).   

Roslyn, Brice, Cale, and Hayden. 

The boys were very interested in my motorcycle and my riding gear.

In northern Kansas, I passed the geographical center of the conterminous US.  This is one of three geographical centers I hope to pass during this trip. 

While this area is not one of my specific destinations, I had the opportunity to meet Chris Helzer with TNC to talk about restoration efforts in and around central Nebraska.  Like my home in southern Wisconsin, the historic ecology of this are has been severely altered, so the restoration (and in many cases complete reconstruction) of the prairies can be a huge challenge.   I saw Chris give a couple presentations at the Prairie Conference last summer and was interested in his work.   When he offered to show me around his restorations, I jumped at the chance to get his perspective and insight. 

Kansas II

You can’t talk about the prairie and not mention fire.  The prairie needs fire.  Fire rejuvenates it and fire protects it.  Fire is what keeps prairie…prairie.  Without fire, the prairie would be overwhelmed with trees and brush.  I’ve known that for years - it’s basic plant community ecology - but I saw it illustrated more clearly today than I ever have. 

Ranchers have been burning the Flint Hills for many decades – for as long as they’ve been ranching.  They probably learned it from the Native Americans.  A frequent, regular burning regime is why the Flint Hills remain the quality prairies they are today. 

Mike Rich, Manager of the Flint Hills National Wildlife Refuge, took me on a tour of the Flint Hills.  I asked Mike what the biggest threats to the Flint Hills prairie are.  We talked about many of the usual suspects, including development and energy (in this case wind energy), but the one that he kept coming back to was trees.  That can be a kind of a tough thing for folks to grasp.  So often when we think of nature, we think of trees.  When we want to do something good for nature we plant a tree.  But trees don’t belong on the prairie, at least not in big numbers.  Ranchers understand that.  It’s a simple matter of economics to them.  Cows eat grass; trees exclude grass; more trees mean fewer fat cows.  Fire keeps trees from encroaching on the prairie.  So ranchers burn.

Another thing these ranchers like is prairie chickens.  But in their efforts to produce good forage for their cows (through burning), they’ve gotten to the point where prairie chicken numbers are declining (along with some other grassland birds).  Prairie chickens need cover in which to nest.  When all or most of the land is burned every year, there is no residual tall grass left in which to conceal nests.  Exposed nests and hens means hens and chicks become easy picking for predators.  At the same time, prairie chickens don’t nest in forests, either.  They need broad expanses of good prairies. 

While these ideas seem to conflict with each other, the fact that so much of the Flint Hills still exists in healthy prairies means that the ranchers must be doing something tight.  They are.  They’re burning the prairie.  Maybe if we can get them so slow down just a little…

Please remember that prairies are complex ecosystems and vary tremendously across time and space.  What is good in one area at one time will not be the best approach everywhere at all times.  I don’t have the time or space (or knowledge!) to thoroughly delve into prairie ecology.  Hopefully, through the people I talk to, I can help introduce you to a few of the most important concepts and inspire you to seek to learn a little more about these fascinating places.

With that thought in mind…  Male prairie chickens gather and do a very cool dance in attempt to attract females.  Check out this video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pJCy0d94YS0&feature=related.

And lest you think that fire and trees are the only concerns in the Flint Hills, look closely at the following photo.  Notice the oil pumps and storage tanks.  And along with those pumps comes electricity (see the power lines) and the need for vehicle access (that’s probably why the road on which we’re driving exists):

The Flint Hills get their name from the layer of flint that tops the limestone and is frequently seen exposed at the crests of hills and in hillsides: 

Kansas 1

I'm staying in Cottonwood Falls, KS tonight, en route to meet my friend Mike Rich tomorrow.  Mike is the manager of the Flint Hills National Wildlife Refuge.  He and I worked together in Iowa in 2001 and 2002.  Just north of Cottonwood Falls is the Tallgrass Prairie National Preserve.  Notice the word "National" in the title this time.  The land is mostly owned by TNC, but is managed by the National Park Service.  I took a late afternoon walk around the TPNP and saw some good stuff.  I saw a bigger variety of birds than I saw in OK.  I heard Henslow's and grasshopper sparrows, saw upland sandpipers and common nighthawks displaying, and I even heard a barred owl calling.  I also saw some cool herps - an ornate box turtle (I think), an eastern collared lizard, and a texas horned lizard (see the Kansas Herpetofaunal Atlas for more detail about all three http://webcat.fhsu.edu/ksfauna/herps/index.asp).

Images from Oklahoma

The top two images are from the Tallgrass Prairie Preserve.  The bottom image is typical for that area.  Grazing and pumping oil or natural gas.  Done right, grazing can be compatible with prairie; in fact what is now the TPP was historically a ranch.  That's the reason the prairie still exists there.  But that is definitely not the case everywhere.  I'd love to see the land kept in prairie simply for prairie's sake.  Unfortunately, most landowners need the land to return a profit or they can't afford to keep it.  Some landowners are doing it, so it can be done.  What's the answer?  I'll be looking for that answer during my travels.  Oil?  Until we quit using gasoline and other petroleum products, they'll keep driling and pumping - no revelation there.  Reducing demand is our best weapon.  Can we make deliberate choices that reduce demand?  Of course we can.  Will we?

The Tallgrass Prairie Preserve

THIS is what I was looking for.  This is why I came.  Big.  Open.  Expansive.  Rarely does reality live up to expectation; and even rarer are the moments when reality exceeds expectation.  This was one of those.   I stopped at a scenic turn-off, I sat on the bike and listened.  And looked.  And felt.  And smiled.  This was the scene I wanted to see.  This is where I wanted to be.

The prairie sloped away ahead of me, behind me, and in every other direction.  There was no visible end to it and that was what I wanted to see – or not to see.  I can’t think of any place I’ve been in the Midwest where there isn’t always at least a silo, a house and a cornfield at every cardinal point.  Here there is prairie.  It feels open, but not empty.  There’s too much life.  Birds, flowers, bison and even a few trees.  There’s never nothing.  And that was just what I could see from my big picture point of view.

 The Rocky Mountains are big and grand and magnificent.  You can’t not be awed.  But you can enjoy them from your car with the windows rolled up and the air conditioning on.  The prairie truly reveals itself only to those who take the time to immerse themselves in it.  You have to get out of the car, off the road, and pause.  You have to relax.  You can try to look for it, but I think you have to let it in.  It’s there, waiting to be discovered.  The closer you look the more you see.  It would take lifetimes to appreciate the intricacies contained in an acre of a prairie hillside.  Vertically, horizontally, and across time. 

There’s an illusion in the prairie.  You look out over the distance and think it’s the same, but it’s never the same.  I’m thankful that I’ve had people take the time to help me see it.

Wisconsin to Iowa

It's about 330 miles from my home to Robin's place in Des Moines.  Despite unfavorable forecasts, I made it all the way to Des Moines with nothing but a few sprinkles.  Unfortunately I did not make it all the way to Robin's house without bad weather.  At about mile 325 I hit hail, lightning, and pouring rain.  I was just getting off I-80 west onto I-235 south into Des Moines when the sky opened up.  I was watching dark clouds get darker for the previous 25-30 miles wondering how close I'd get before I had to seek shelter.  I thought my mojo was gonna carry me through.  Snap!  I guess my mojo isn't as powerful as I deluded myself into thinking.  Fortunately, there was a gas station within about a mile of the exit.  I laid low while the worst of the storm rolled through and then sprinted the rest of the way.

Snap #2 came as I pulled into Robin's garage - I noticed my low beam headlight was out.  Wait a minute.  That's not inconvenience.  It's adventure!  When you're traveling it's called adventure, right?  Right.  Yeah!  That was cool!  Right.....   Anyway...  A quick visit to my local NAPA store store and a few minutes in the garage and all is well.  Illumination and visibility have been restored.

One of my goals, once I get to Oklahoma, is to avoid the interstate, chain motels, and franchised restaurants until I leave my final destination.  Right now I'm sitting in a Caribou Coffee and I'm reminded why I'm going to avoid franchises.  There are about 30 people in here and at least 25 are drinking their beverages out of disposable cups.  And to my shame, I'm one of them.  Note to self: bring your travel mug next time.  Repeat this scenario at how many other Caribous around the country right now and how many single use cups will be thrown in the trash in the next few minutes?  Sigh.  We have a long way to go.  The good news is that I saw at least one customer at the drive-through pass reusable mugs into the window to be filled.  One out of 30 is not enough.

Okay, back on the road.  To Pawhuska, OK this evening.  My room for the next two nights does not have internet access, but I was told the public library does.  I'm hoping I can find access somewhere.

Thanks for the hospitality, Robin!

Stay tuned...

Last minute prep

Final packing in progress.  Clothes go in a waterproof bag that will get strapped onto the back of the bike.  Other stuff - tools, spare parts, binoculars, bird book, extra shoes, rain jacket, spare layers - stay accessible in the hard bags.  Maps, camera, cell phone and charger, sunglasses, sunscreen (for my long, skinny neck!), notebook and pens, and water bottle go in the tank bag for easy access.  I'll be wearing a hydration unit under my jacket.

Mowed the lawn this evening.  I'll drop the doggies off at the kennel first thing tomorrow.  Will stop for gas and check the air in the tires on the way out tomorrow.  Oil is good and so is the fluid in the primary drive. 

Tomorrow's destination: Des Moines.  DM is about 5 hours ride time from home.  If I can get out by 2:00, I should roll in well before it gets dark.  I'll be staying with my friend Robin tomorrow evening.  Thanks, Robin!

The ride into Iowa tomorrow and back out again on Friday, will be a good intro to the trip.  Iowa was once probably the state with the highest percentage of land covered with prairie, but now has some of smallest percentages left.  Where did it go?  Under the plow.  That's a story I'll hear repeated everywhere I go during the next two weeks.

I made a map of my route in Google maps, but I'm old-school enough that getting it posted here is not quite as intuitive as it would be for most second graders.  If anybody wants to offer suggestions, I would gladly accept them. 

Looking forward to continuing the discussion from the road!

My companion for my Prairie Pilgrimage