Little Hat Monkeyflower Springs. It's what my two girls, my trail partners for today, called the secret place where ice cold clear water bubbled out of the steep mountainside the rugged trail traversed. In the heat of that July day, we slid off our sweaty mounts, and grabbed our cups and canteens …
On Planting Apples
Even though I only have one grandchild so far, I find myself fervently hoping my grandkids will like Honeycrisp apples. I swing the pick high overhead and bring it down, business end striking the soil like steel on flint. Daylight has long since faded as I have already planted 9 starts in the …
Respect for the Mystery of History
I yanked on the stubborn cheater bar to no avail in an attempt to open the rickety gate in the barbed wire fence. Caryl would just love this gate, I thought. The cobbled together fence marked our property line with the BLM; it was probably easily over 60 years old. Many hands had fixed on it over …
Range Riding Realities
It's hard to be inside on a day like this. The wind has picked up, and there is a fresh breeze that streams in rivers down off the rocky heights. Big cumulus clouds roll like tumbleweed across a canvas of deep azure. A tiny tinge of green can be seen out in the pastures that still bear the patina of …
Gaming Grassfed
Thomas, the nicely coiffed young man behind the meat counter smiled amicably as he asked, "What can I help you with?" His near-spotless white apron portrayed clean, as did the well organized and shiny surfaces of the newly minted meat department behind him. I could trust him, I found myself …
On Earning Trust
"It's locked," said Tim as he shook the big padlock that joined the scrap of rugged log chain around the gatepost. A confusing, yet high functioning conglomeration of barbed and woven wire vaunted up the steep and rocky hill from the steel gate. On the downhill side, the same tangle of rusty wires …