NEBRASKAland
WHERE THE WEST BEGINS SLOW-MOTION BROWNS THE EXECUTIVE MANSION COYOTE CAPERS RODEO IN THE ROUGH
NEBRASKaland
APRIL Roundup
APRIL MAKES its debut in NEBRASKALAND with a shower of activities. Gentle breezes, budding trees, and fish careless enough to nibble at any wriggling worm, herald the return of outdoor activities. Events scheduled for Nebraskans throughout the month, both indoors and out, include pageants with bevies of beautiful girls, sports contests, festivals, and conferences.
Four times during April, track and field contests will match long-legged speedsters and leaping broad jumpers. Meets scheduled are the Class A Invitational Track Meet at Columbus, the annual Ed Wier Invitational Track and Field Meet at Superior, Doane College Night Relays at Crete, and the Kearney State College Invitational High School Track Meet at Kearney.
The spectrum of sports also includes wrestling, a rodeo, a rifle meet, and a soaring meet. Collegiate cowboys will break from the chutes for fast action during the University of Nebraska Intercollegiate Rodeo at the State Fairgrounds in Lincoln, April 22-23. One performance will be given Friday evening, and two on Saturday. Cowboys and cowgirls from Nebraska colleges compete for trophies and cash prizes in this University of Nebraska Rodeo Club-sponsored event. Cowgirls participate in barrel racing and ribbon dogging, and a Miss Rodeo is chosen from University co-eds.
The stately trees at Arbor Lodge in Nebraska City provide an April backdrop for the NEBRASKAland Hostess, Miss Marcia McQuin. Marcia invites you to visit the home of J. Sterling Morton, founder of Arbor Day. The daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Lowell McQuin of Plattsmouth, Marcia is a 1964 graduate of Plattsmouth High School. She is now a sophomore at the University of Nebraska majoring in elementary education. The reigning Kass Kounty King Korn Karnival Queen, she is also a past-honored queen of Job's Daughters, 1964 Miss Plattsmouth, and she has been a candidate for Cornhusker Beauty Queen and for Block and Bridle Queen at the University.
Airborne sportsters from three states compete in the McCook Soaring Meet, slated for April 1 and 2. Sailplanes, airplanes without engines, carry their pilots through the sky at speeds of 50 to 120 miles per hour. Tasks are assigned to the contestants involving speed or distance problems, and total points gained on the performance of each task decide the winner.
Sharpshooting college riflemen and women will shoot for trophies in the University of Nebraska Invitational Rifle Meet in Lincoln, April 29 through May 1. Thirty-five colleges from several states have been invited to participate in the meet which has two divisions, an open class for both men and women, and a women's division.
Amateur wrestlers from across the nation will hit the mats as they fight for honors in the National A.A.U. Wrestling Championships at Lincoln's Persh- ing Municipal Auditorium, April 5 to 9. Approximately 350 wrestlers are expected to compete. The top three place winners in each weight division will go on to training camps in preparation for the world championships in June.
Athletes and artists both have reserved dates on the April calendar. The Ninth Midwest Biennial Exhibition in Omaha's Joslyn Art Museum will display hundreds of paintings and sculptures from 10 states. The art works were selected by a jury composed of noted actor and art collector, Vincent Price; a New York City artist, Robert Gwathmey, and director of the Milwaukee, Wisconsin, Art Center, Tracy Atkinson. The purpose of the five-gallery exhibition is to demonstrate the abilities of midwestern artists.
Artists from five states including Nebraska, Wyoming, North Dakota, South Dakota, and Montana can enter works in the Scottsbluff annual Five State Art Show, held April 10 to 24 in Scottsbluff. The art works on display in the Scottsbluff Fine Arts Center were selected from hundreds of submitted entries.
NEBRASKAland is the home of a holiday which has added beauty to the plains state, and which is celebrated each year during the month when all life is renewed. Arbor Day, proclaimed as a state legal holiday in 1885, is dedicated to the planting of fruit, forest, or ornamental trees for the beautification of the state. It has become a holiday in nearly every state in the nation, and in many countries around the world. April 22 is set aside for the day, which was inspired by an early Nebraskan, J. Sterling Morton, whose home, orchards and wooded lawns at Arbor Lodge in Nebraska City, are now a state Historical Park.
Beauties of another Nebraska variety will parade before judges as they vie for top honors in the local divisions of the Miss Nebraska IPageant. Two lovely misses will be chosen in local pageants to reign over Auburn and Columbus, in the first step to the Miss America Pageant.
Home economists and future home economists will be welcomed to Lincoln for a hospitality day, an alumni day, and a state convention in April. Hospitality Day for the College of Home Economics and Agriculture on the University of Nebraska East Campus will have as its theme, "New Directions in Home Economics". Each area of specialization within the field of home economics will have displays which explain course requirements and career possibilities to the 2,000 high school girls who attend.
A Home Economics Alumni Day will be held in April for graduates of the University of Nebraska College of Home Economics and Agriculture.
Future Homemakers of America will hold their annual conference at the Nebraska Center for Continuing Education in Lincoln, April 22 to 23.
Town and country will get together in a community social affair at Laurel during the second week of April. The Chamber of Commerce acts as host at a dinner for all local farmers and Laurel townspeople.
Entertainment abounds across the state this month. All-stars will wrestle at Omaha, and the Grand Ole Opry crew brings their country style music to Lincoln and Omaha. From April 11 to 17 children will delight in the antics of the clowns and the death defying feats of high wire artists at the Shrine Circus in Omaha. The glamorous and graceful stars of the Ice Follies appear in Omaha, April 20 to 24.
Nebraska colleges lead the way for more April activity. Both the University of Nebraska and Nebraska Wesleyan University will hold Fine Arts Festivals. Engineering students hold open house April 28, during E-Week at Nebraska U. Diplomats and foreign service officers from 50 to 60 nations will discuss international problems at the Kearney Conference on World Affairs at Kearney State College, April 26-27.
Easter Sunday, April 10, will be marked with special sunrise services in Pinewood Bowl, set in the heart of Lincoln's Pioneer Park. Services begin at 6:30 a.m.
Mild, April days bring renewed vigor
to an always-active state, beckoning
APRIL, 1966
5
fishermen to Nebraska ponds and
streams. Bow and arrow fishermen
mark the opening of their season on
game and nongame fish on April 1.
April, queen of spring, has filled her calendar to overflowing. Occasional showers may come, but Nebraskans will be too busy to notice. THE END
NEBRASKAland COLOR SLIDES ... introducing The Beautiful Pine RidgeNEBRASKAland does it again! The fifth in a continuing series of 35-mm. color slides featuring 15 fascinating transparencies of the fantastic Pine Ridge region of northwest Nebraska. These make a highlight addition to your slide collection and they make an unusual gift for Nebraskans and friends far away from home.
The beautiful Pine Ridge slides are the newest additions to the popular series of outstanding pictures on the state capitol, scenic highways, and the Badlands, Brownville, and Fish and Flowers.
FAIR MINDED—"Keep up the good work. You can't please everyone. I just finished reading letters in the December issue, and this is to tell you that as far as the hunting, gun, and cleaning game articles are concerned, they don't get a second glance here. In fact the two issues of the magazine that have them in don't even get placed on the reading table. We love the beautiful pictures, and the historical articles, since my forefathers came out here is the early '70's and. settled in the Republican Valley when there were buffalo and Indians there. I have traveled all over the U. S., and have failed to find anything to equal the beauty of our Sand Hills—but their name is so misleading to people who think they are just piles of sand. If only they could see the herds of cattle as they come down along the fences in the fall, as the trees and grasses turn to lovely colors.
"I'm sure camping must be fun for those who do it, but we are not so inclined. So, when people write in and tell you that everyone is interested in only certain things, just keep on giving all of us an overall picture of Nebraska. How wonderful it is that we don't all like the same things. If we did Nebraska would be a very dull place in which to live. Just because I don't happen to be interested in hunting is no reason that those who do should not have their share of attion."—Mrs. Lewis H. Kerl, Geneva, Nebraska.
SANDHILLER—"Just before I received the December issue of NEBRASKAland I had been wondering why there had not been any article or feature on the Sand Hills. I have not been there but those who have say it is wonderful cattle country.
"Then on opening the December issue I saw the story, 'Cattle Country'. The only thing I have to complain about is that there was not enough of it. So when you can, please have more pictures and another more detailed article about the Sand Hills and its people. Thanks."—R. C. Smythe, Akron, Ohio.
From time to time NEBRASKland has published articles about the Sand Hills and its people and there will be more. The Sand Hills was the locale for a recent story, 'Trapline to a Ranch', and before that we had another, 'Cowboy With A Loop'. There will be more articles and stories about 'God's Greatest Pastureland' in future issues.—Editor
WANTS MAPS—"One of our-out-of-state friends suggests that when you write an article concerning some area in the state, that you put a small map of Nebraska with a star locating the region you are writing about."—Max E. Roper, Lincoln, Nebraska.
HEAD
Capture the beauty of NEBRASKAland with this wide assortment of photographic masterpieces. New from the cameras of NEBRASKAland magazine photographers. Select the scenes that match your decor from giant 38!/2"x58" murals, 16"x20" "G" series, and 20" x 24" "P" series prints in living color. Makes the perfect gift, too! Each size features four different NEBRASKAland scenes. Mural series "M" only $7.95 each, "G" prints 75 cents each or set of 4 for $2.50, and "P" series prints $1 each or set of 4 for $3.50 postpaid. Order by number today.
M-1 "Pine Ridge Reflections" M-2 "Beeves in the Sand Hills" M-3 "Butte Country" M-4 "NEBRASKAland Ringnecks" P-l "The Deer Hunters" P-2 "The Big Country" P-3 "Platte of Plenty" P-4 "The Quiet Way" G-l "Snake Falls" G-2 "The Tall Pines" G-3 "Down in the Valley" G-4 "Smith Falls" NEBRASKAland State Capitol Lincoln, Nebraska 68509 Enclosed is $ check or money order for the prints or murals circled: NAME. I ADDRESS CITY STATE ZIP (Dealers: ask for special wholesale rates)SLOW-MOTION BROWNS
IT DIDN'T SEEM possible. Here we are, bundled up like polar explorers against the Sand Hills chill, preparing to catch brown trout in the headwaters of the Snake River. The morning wind moaned over the choppies, making it seem a lot colder than the thermometer's 19 reading. Overhead, the January sky was leading over with dark clouds, pregnant with the threat of snow. It was going to be a bleak and dismal day on the river but the prospects didn't seem to faze my companions a bit as they assembled flyrods, tied on leaders, and tested No. 8 hooks for keenness.
"It will be pretty cold for another hour or so," Lou
Hardin said, his words forming miniature vapor trails
in the frosty air. "After that it is supposed to warm up
a bit and by 11 o'clock it should be fairly comfortable."
His companion, Ken Hull, shook off a glove and plunged his hand into the icy waters of the minnow bucket. He made a couple of swipes at the elusive bait fish before he came up with one. The silvery minnow flopped for a second or two as the Sandhiller impaled him on the tiny hook and then the bait went still.
"You better get that minnow into the river or those browns will be having frozen fish for breakfast," I joked as Ken headed for the small stream that was the beginning of the wild and untamed Snake River in northwestern Nebraska. Lou was right behind him, eager to get started.
Gene Hornbeck, NEBRASKAland photographer, and I had joined Lou Hardin and Ken Hull of Gordon, Nebraska, in a try for winter trout on the headwaters of the Snake. Lou, an ardent trouter, runs a lumber and hardware store in Gordon while Ken ranches just outside of town. We had heard about the Gordon fishermen and in our usual blunt manner invited ourselves along.
Lou and Ken planned a day and a half on the headwaters. They try to make at least two fishing trips to the Snake each winter, and this was their first of the new year so they were pretty eager. The boys usually score, too.
"We don't plan on limit catches but we usually take three or four good fish apiece, each time out," Lou explained before we started. "When the weather is cold, the trout slow down and you have to fish harder for them but minnows and red worms will tempt them into striking."
Gene and I followed the two old friends south on Nebraska Highway 27 out of Gordon. I was wondering why they were traveling so slowly when the pickup stopped. Lou bounced out, trotted over to the ditch, and picked up a flat bottle.
"Hip flask for minnows," he grinned, tossing the bottle into the pickup. Another mile and he repeated the performance. Satisfied with their gleaning, the two Sandhillers kicked the truck right along until they came to a half hidden road that branched off to the east. They bounced across the choppies and skirted the big hills on a winding maze of trails until I was thoroughly bewildered and finally stopped beside the meandering stream.
It was evident that trout taking in January was going to be decidedly different from the slam-bang action of July or August. The water was low and gin clear. This far west, the Snake was little more than a narrow brook and it was a cinch that big browns were going to be mighty spooky in that relatively open water.
As Lou and Ken made a cautious approach to the stream, I studied the setup. The Snake cleaved through the sandy loam of the hills in a deep and narrow channel. Moss and watercress edged out from the surrounding banks, their dark green in sharp contrast to the winding ribbon of white sand that marked the center of the stream. The banks were almost devoid of cover and it was a cinch that getting close to the flighty trout would be a creep and hope proposition.
Lou's rod arched into a sharp bow and I saw him set the hook with a quick flip of the rod tip. The fish fought for a few seconds and then shook off. "Lost him," Lou grunted, examining his barren hook. A hundred yards away, Gene was fishing a bend. Working out 20 to 25 feet of line, he cast downstream and retrieved his minnow with short twitches and long "drop backs". It took him about 30 casts to tease a 10 NEBRASKAland trout out of his lair but the strike was a good one. After a brief flurry with the surprised fish the photographer held up a chunky 15-incher.
"That's about average for the Snake up here. But we do catch some better ones. I never have much luck on this particular stretch but Lou usually comes through, and now, I see your buddy has it figured out," Ken commented as we watched Gene creel the fish.
We fished for another 30 minutes but Gene's keeper was the only prize. Assembling at the truck, we held a council of war and planned our next foray. "Ought to drive another mile and try that stretch under the bluffs," Lou suggested, anxious to get something started. Ken agreed and we mounted up.
As we drove eastward, I could see the Snake gaining in size and water volume. Scattered springs at right angles to the stream bed were feeding the river and the Snake was swelling to a size worthy of its name.
"The water never freezes here. I've been out here when it was 20° below but the main channel was always open," Ken remarked.
It was getting a little warmer but the air was still clammy and the distant hills were faded and misty in the winter haze. Scattered brush (continued on page 54)
DUCKS in the Wind
HIS ORIGINAL PLAN was to rig the boat as a floating duck blind, but a glance at the turbulent surface of Smith Lake soon vetoed the idea. Such a rig would be impossible to control in that boiling chop and Dan Schanck of Chadron, Nebraska, knew it. He threw the roll of burlap and lath he had hoped to use as camouflage into the pickup and turned to fellow townsman, Rich Robbins, with a shrug. There would be no floating blind today.
A howling wind ripped down a Sand Hills gut onto the unprotected lake, churning it into a froth of whitecaps. Skim ice forming in the sheltered areas cracked under the strain of whipping reeds as the wind tore at their dry and dead stems. Out in the water, scattered, gale-tossed bunches of ducks were bobbing on the waves. Even so, the two hunters weren't going to give up their day. They wrestled their 14-foot joe boat with its cargo of duck decoys down to the water's edge and headed out onto the boiling lake.
For Rich, a Chadron service station operator, this was a new aspect of Smith Lake. Though he is an avid hunter, he had never raised a gun at this Sand Hills NEBRASKAland lake. He was familiar with it as a hot spot for northern pike, bass, and panfish. Its waterfowl hunting, though, was a new experience, so he readily accepted his old hunting crony's offer to show him Smith's often-praised duck hunting. Their original plans for a floating blind with decoys, or a sneak boat hunt intrigued Rich, but the growing gale nixed their hopes.
But Dan had taken time off from his duties as a Nebraska State Safety Patrolman, and Rich had proclaimed a mid-November holiday for himself at the service station. The fact that the mercury was making motions toward the chilly end of the thermometer was no deterrent to the inveterate hunters. Their only concern was that Smith Lake might be iced in, as were many smaller ponds south of Rushville. The hunters were reassured when they saw the 222-acre lake tossing before the wind even though their well-laid plans were spoiled.
Smith is one of the most easily reached lakes in the
Sand Hills. A narrow stretch of blacktop links the
state-owned special-use area to Lakeside on State Highway 2
from the south or from a gravelled road that
APRIL, 1966
13
dips down from Rushville, 22 miles to the north. The
lake comes into its own as a resting place for thousands
of ducks each fall. The Chadron men knew the shooting
wouldn't be spectacular so late in the season, but Dan
was confident they would get some birds.
"Lovely weather—for ducks. We might as well try the point of that island," Dan said, pointing through the predawn dimness toward a ridge of reeds about 75 yards out. "Ducks spooked from shore usually make a pass over that point. We can put out the decoys and try to slow them down a bit."
The raw November wind hammered the pair as they clambered into the boat and started working it through a skim of ice. Rowing was rough, and the boat seemed to stand still despite Dan's urging with the oars but inch by inch the point of the island drew nearer.
When they rounded the point, both men labored over their decoys, dropping them in two bunches. Nosing the joe boat onto the soggy spit of land, they dragged the craft through the reeds to break its outline. The 14 NEBRASKAland boat would make a dry place for the gunners to sit. Before the men got into position, a couple of mallards skimmed overhead, flared at the sight of the moving figures, and vanished. Sleet, driven by the wind, rattled on the dull paint of the boat as its occupants huddled, squinting over the water. Forming shore ice squeaked in protest as the hunters waited.
Suddenly, a small streak of duck whipped low over the island, and both hunters half-rose, 12-gauges at the ready but the bird was well out of range. They sat back with embarrassed grins.
Dan chuckled, "I don't know where he came from. We can't watch all directions at once, I guess."
Rich blew a warming breath into his cupped hands. "One thing we can say, no one but fools and hunters would be out on a day like this."
"One coming in fast from the north," Dan hissed. Both hunters froze, as Rich moved his eyes, searching the horizon without turning his head.
A bufflehead raced noiselessly just above the reeds, not veering a feather as the gunners rose. Dan fired first and missed. Rich's echoing shot slammed the duck into the choppy water behind the decoys.
"Well, there's one. I thought you safety patrolmen were better shots," Rich chided. "We will take the boat and get that one later. But right now we had better stay put." He reloaded without taking his eyes off the floating duck.
"You ought to be able to hit a duck, you get plenty of practice pointing nozzles at gas tanks back in town," Dan quipped.
"Next time, I'll show you how I did it last year when I got my limit in about half an hour. Hey! There's something else we'll have to use the boat for". The patrolman pointed to three decoys bobbing away, their anchor ropes pulled free and apparently tangled.
Rich nodded, scanning the gray sky. "Looks as though the ducks have settled down for the day, anyhow. They're hiding in the rushes along the shore. I wish some other hunters would come and stir them up a bit."
Help was not long in coming, but in an unexpected form. A semitrailer rig rumbled (Continued on page 53)
COYOTE CAPERS
TO SOME FOLKS, I'm a varment. Frankly, being a proud member of the coyote clan, I don't feel much like one. Pop calls me an "ornery little cuss". That must be pretty nice because he is always giving me big, swabbing licks and gleaming toothy grins
Pop didn't get to see me until I was a couple weeks old. With an occasional nip and shove, Mom kept us pups in line and under close guard. In fact, we were never farther than a few waddles away from the milk bar.
The old man may be a newcomer to us, but he and Mom have been together for years. He is a handsome old gent with grizzled buff hair that turns whitish around his undersides. His magnificent bushy tail, held down when running, has a black tip just like he dunked it in an inkwell. Reddish legs carry him about 40 miles per hour when he is hot on the trail. He could have measured up to 30 pounds of real lady-killer if he and Mom had not settled down.
It is the doggonedest thing how they savvy each other's moods. When we were first born, Pop whined at the den's entrance. He paced up and down, but didn't venture inside. He was a good thing, too. Mom takes her motherly chores seriously. One low growl was enough to keep him stepping lightly. Ever so often, he left a freshly-killed rabit outside, and only then would she pad out to bring in her dinner.
16 NEBRASKAIond
Our "den" is actually a burrow. The folks dug this one themselves. However, they are not above taking possession of those already in use by badgers and prairie dogs. Mom is never too particular about housing. Bringing up six or more pups is an annual spring affair, and she doesn't bother to prepare a nest.
After about three weeks in the den, we made our initial expedition outside. Fascinating sights and smells greet every turn. But, it's not all play. The folks take turns being schoolmaster until fall.
Rabbits and mice make a large portion of our food. But, Pop has also put us on the lookout for weak or sick deer and antelope, and game birds. Contrary to the woodlands' grapevine, attacks by coyotes on domestic animals have been overrated. In fact, I eat a surprising amount of vegetable food. Mom says we should have our daily greens and yellows. My parents tell me puppyhood is the best life I'll ever know. Once I'm on my own, things will be tougher. Hunger and peril will "dog" me the rest of my days. There is no other way.
It's noisy around here at night. A regular nocturnal ritual takes place. The folks perform a distinctive serenade, consisting of short yaps, whines, and barks to mournful howls. My spine prickles when this call of my ancestors echoes through the hills. Sometimes I try to copy the folks, but my voice is still too thin-toned.
There is a lot to learn for a young coyote pup. But some day I'm going to be the best serenader in all NEBRASKAland. THE END
LOOK FOR THE NEBRASKAlander
Exciting new program lures travelers onto NEBRASKAland vacation trailEACH YEAR, more and more families are heading out on America's beckoning vacation trail. With more time to play and fatter pay checks to pay the way, Mom, Dad, and the kids have left the backyard barbecue in a cloud of dust and are eagerly exploring every scenic and historic nook and cranny of the U.S.A.
This new-found urge to take to the open road has rocketed travel into one of the fastest-growing industries in the nation. Annual returns are pushing the $28 billion mark and all signs point to an even bigger boom in the future. Each carload of vacationers is spending an average $32 a day in pursuit of happiness and adventure. Add up all the families coursing the nation's highways and you've got a traveling Fort Knox moving across the countryside, spreading greenbacks in its wake.
NEBRASKAland's highways carry thousands of these vacationing families. Interstate 80, though still to be completed, hosts almost 1,400 out-of-state cars on the average each day of the year. During the peak tourist months, this figure mushrooms to nearly 4,000 cars a day. The experts say even this figure will be dwarfed when the superhighway system is completed from one end of the state to the other. Nebraska's other major highways are also getting heavy use, the tourist bonanza affecting every community along the vacation trail.
Having all these thousands coming to Nebraska's front door is one thing — getting them to stop and stay a spell is certainly another. It's always a pleasant sight to see vacationers enjoying each town's attractions and facilities. Not so pleasant is counting the cars that go whizzing by with their $32 daily expenditures stashed safely inside, largely because they do not know that there is something to see and enjoy.
Operating on the premise that an informed traveler is a paying, staying customer, the Tourism Division of the Game Commission and the NEBRASKAland Foundation have launched a massive state-wide NEBRASKAlander Tourist Information Program. Designed to place informed NEBRASKAland salesmen at every business which comes in direct contact with the traveler, the program is already luring vacationers off the road.
Florida, an old pro at attracting tourists, is presently urging its visitors to stay just one more hour in the "Sunshine State". They figure that if they can accomlish even this, travel revenue can accrue at the approximate rate of $9 million per hour. The experts there go one step further, estimating that if one of their communities does no more than hold 24 visitors a day on the average throughout the year the returns will equal economically a new industry with an annual payroll of $131,000.
The NEBRASKAlander Program can have as dramatic results here. Unique in the United States, the project has already been recognized by the National Association of Travel Organizations "as an outstanding 22 NEBRASKAland contribution to the U. S. travel industry," and further cited it as a "dynamic training program for tourist-related businesses."
At present, over 80 such establishments across the state are participating in the project. When fully operational, over 300 firms will be telling and selling the NEBRASKAland vacation story. Alert businessmen are obviously anxious to become a part of the program, realizing that each traveler who stops for tourist information is also looking for cash-register-ringing services. The Tourism Division is presently accepting applications to the program, and urges any business which comes in direct contact with tourists to contact them.
All tourist-related businesses are encouraged to participate in the NEBRASKAlander Program. Once they apply, however, they are put through a series of tests to assure that the firm and its personnel meet the high standards of the project. An establishment must have a clean, neat appearance, prove its integrity, and offer hospitable and courteous service. If it fails on any of these points, either at application or during its membership period, the business is automatically dropped from the program. Personnel must also reflect these high standards. At least one staff member who has passed a test on state vacation attractions must be on duty during all business hours. Personnel selected as NEBRASKAlanders by their firm are provided with a special Travel Kit which provides information on all phases of the state travel scene. Once they have studied its contents, they take a test to make sure that they can answer the traveler's every question.
Once the business and its personnel are approved, an array of vacation material is provided to establish the tourist information station. Each $20 annual membership fee entitles participants to one large metal display rack, four NEBRASKAlander crests for personnel, a one-year subscription to Travel Talk (a biweekly newsletter specifically designed by the Tourism Division to keep participating businesses abreast of state and national travel trends), a one-year subscription to NEBRASKAland magazine, two colored window decals, one 18 by 24-inch tourist information sign with mounting brackets, one information kit, and a generous supply of factual vacation literature to (continued on page 58)
Nebraska's Executive Mansion
WARM, FRIENDLY personalities are a tradition in Nebraska, the home of western hospitality. And nowhere is this more evident than of the Chief Executive's Mansion. Hosting everyone from Indian chief to foreign dignitary, the stately red-brick structure reflects the graciousness of all Nebraska.
Perhaps the first thing a visitor is aware of as he enters the foyer is the welcoming atmosphere of the regal blue velvet walls and circular stairs. For many guests, dignitaries, and tourists alike, this air is enhanced by a welcoming smile and handshake from Mrs. Morrison.
"I try to be present for each of the Tuesday tours and of course for formal state affairs," the First Lady says. "I want the people of Nebraska to feel that this is their house, too."
Indeed each guest does feel a part of the mansion as he is ushered into the cozy, yet enormous drawing room. White silk-covered walls lend an air of elegance to the surroundings. As an antique French barometer dominates the room from its place over the fireplace on the south wall. An empire sofa and grand piano, both from the old mansion which was razed in 1956, add additional charm. Though the first time visitor may not realize it, the drawing room alone equals most homes in floor space.
APRIL, 1966
A hallway leading from the drawing room to the governor's library traces the governorship in pictures of the state's First Ladies.
At the end of the hall is the Governor's library. Perhaps the most striking part of the room is a wall taken from the old mansion
"The entire wall was brought from the old mansion, though it was much darker there," Mrs. Morrison explains. "It was bleached to match the beige grass-cloth of the library's walls."
Linking each of the rooms of the mansion is an extensive
intercom system Idea as a step-saver, it means
instant communication between rooms in the sprawling
mansion. Also an integral part of the system is a speaker
located just outside the frontdorr. By using this speaker
a visitor can be interviewed without opening the door,
making it a functional security feature.
Across from the library is the state dining room. A huge mahogany Chippendale table in the center can accommodate 24.
"We hold state affairs here and Chamber of Commerce breakfasts," the First Lady points out. "Occasionally, we have the senators or their wives over. Then we set up card tables to finish out the seating."
Silver services adorn the sideboards, with a large epergne at one end which may be used as a centerpiece. The door facings and cabinets were all intricately designed by Lincoln wood carver Keats Lorenz.
The mansion's kitchen facilities are located on the first floor, just off the dining room. Comparable to kitchens found in most lavish restaurants, it would please the most demanding culinary devotee. Here meals for massive gatherings or a snack for the family are prepared with equal ease. Kitchen appointments, like the library wall, were salvaged from the old mansion. Only the elements of the built-in* electric range and two family-sized dishwashers have been changed.
The First Lady is quick to point out the family dining room on the first floor since there are no large dining facilities on the second floor. She finds the family dining room is ideal when the children are at home or for small gatherings of close friends. A small circular table graces the room which is papered in a paint-spattered effect.
Again entering the foyer and decending a stairway to the basement, one is greeted by a massive game room. Informal and comfortable, sofas and chairs are arranged around an oversized open-hearth fireplace. Modern and contemporary art works adorn the walls.
"One evening the Governor and I were visiting friends when we were notified that nearly 500 University of Nebraska students were here," Mrs. Morrison smiled. "We hurried home and brought them down to the game room. I've never seen a more excited or well-mannered group," she beamed. Hosts and house alike are accustomed to catering to such large gatherings or an informal group that drops in.
Though the Morrisons live all over the mansion, they are naturally partial to the private family quarters on the second floor. Here they can retreat for the relaxation needed after a long day. A quaintly furnished living room with fireplace and family organ is the focal point of this upper-story living area. A tiny snack kitchen adjoining the living room serves equally well for intimate breakfasts or late-evening snacks.
"None of the other residents used the kitchen, but I like to cook breakfast for the Governor," Mrs. Morrison said. "Often that is the only time I see him during the day."
The rest of the floor is taken up by bedrooms. A master bedroom with bath and two family bedrooms with an adjoining bath are the most frequently used. If extra space is needed, there are three guest rooms with a bath in each.
A portrait of Governor and Mrs. Morrison hangs next to the stairs, "it was presented to the Governor when he was speaking at Broken Bow. A local artist clipped two separate pictures from the paper and used them as models," Mrs. Morrison explains.
Typical Nebraska friendliness is just one of the traits of the Governor and Mrs. Morrison. To them Nebraska is a beloved home and its people are friends to whom their doors are never closed. THE END
PARKS FOR PEOPLE
FROM BUSHNELL to South Sioux City, from Crawford to Barada, plenty of improvements were made on Nebraska's state parks in 1965 and more are on the way. As the state moves well into its ten-year park improvement program, new recreation areas of various kinds are sprouting up in Nebraska like puffballs after a warm rain. More picnic tables, comfort facilities, public beaches, boating areas, and developed historic spots are realities instead of dreams. The courage and vision of those state senators who fought the legislative battles of 1957, 1959, and 1961 for a going parks program is now paying off in a big way.
Back in 1957 the first glimmers of public recognition were given to righting some old inequities and getting Nebraska on the way to an improved park and recreation area program. The kickoff was the passage of the controversial State Recreation Sticker Act. This was first effective in the 1958 season, and the sticker was required for automotive entry to some 30 fairly well developed State Recreation Areas.
Up to this time with one or two exceptions, all maintenance and improvement on these areas was accomplished with dollars from hunting and fishing permits. Back in 1930, this might have been a fair practice as many of the areas were originally acquired for local fishing spots. As time changed public demand, these areas required more emphasis on picnicking, camping facilities, and housekeeping maintenance so the concept of taxing the hunter and fisherman was not equitable.
The Recreation Sticker, costing one dollar and required on the windshield of all motor vehicles entering these areas, brought this situation to public attention and was a factor in the passage of the first park mill levy act, L.B. 408 of the 1959 Nebraska Unicameral Legislature.
Old L.B. 408 was more than a revenue measure. Among park folks it is regarded as one of the finest organic acts in the business. Basically it sets up and defines four types of park areas, State Parks, State Recreation Areas, State Wayside Areas, and State Historical Parks.
State Parks are areas of substantial size, having a
complete developmental potential for terminal family
vacations. State Recreation Areas are primarily for day
use, picnicking and swimming, with less ornate camping
facilities. State Historical Parks are on areas of notable
state-wide historical significance, with limited day use,
if any. Wayside Areas are adjacent to main traveled
APRIL, 1966
33
highways as rest and picnic stops for the tourist with
limited camping.
The category of State Special Use Areas, which represents those areas best adapted to wildlife management, public hunting, and fishing was also set up by L.B. 408. Some 70 of these areas serve the public today. Special Use Areas are financed by the hunter and fisherman, not from the park mill levy.
This first bill was adequate to maintain the park system as it then existed, but it provided very little revenue for additional capital improvements. A burgeoning population with more leisure time demanded additional acquisition and development of public recreational areas of all types. This demand was brought into practical focus by L.B. 208 of the 1961 Legislature. That bill increased the mill levy funds and made possible some real park progress. Without L.B. 208 almost none of the improvements now underway would be possible, for it put "muscle" in the state's park program.
The past is prologue. Let us take a look at a "nuts and bolts" report on improvements to your Nebraska State Park system.
Highlighting current developments at major state park areas in 1965 was the opening of the newly constructed group camp complex at Chadron in early July. This consisted of a central building and three dormitory units and offers modern accommodations for any group of reasonable size. The central building houses the kitchen and dining hall and provides a spacious area for conferences and meetings. Dormitories offer modern, comfortable overnight accommodations for 60 persons. Additional dormitories can be added to the complex should the need arise at some future time. Each of the dormitories can be converted into vacation cabins, containing two cabin units with two bedrooms, kitchen, and living area. All cabins are equipped for housekeeping. Parking areas and park roads leading from the headquarters area to the swimming pool and group camp were paved last summer. This action cut the dust problem in Chadron's popular camping area.
Attendance records and income set an all-time high at Chadron during the 1965 season. Individual camper registrations climbed from 10,928 persons in 1964 to 12,124 in 1965. High on the list of future improvements at the park is the construction of a new tent and trailer camping area. This will be done in the not-too-distant future.
With the close of the rifle season for deer on November 14, Fort Robinson State Park, located near Crawford, completed another successful operating year. This marked the eighth year of operation at this park which offers excellent overnight facilities in the lodge and 12 comfortable housekeeping cabins on the grounds. The park restaurant, located in the lodge, offers complete dining service. Horseback riding, tennis, and fishing are also available. A tent and trailer camping area is also maintained with a modern shower-latrine building.
A rich historic background, coupled with the beauty of the magnificent Pine Ridge, makes this park an outstanding vacation area with plenty of top quality outdoor recreation available to visitors. Currently, the size of the park area at Fort Robinson is limiting the development of other on-site recreational activities. Acquisition of adjacent lands would provide the necessary area to develop Fort Robinson into an outstanding state park facility.
Income receipts reached a new high at Niobrara State Park in 1965. Last season, total visitations were estimated at 110,000 persons. The park is situated on an "island" near the mouth of the Niobrara River. Niobrara State Park offers 15 modern housekeeping cabins, a nine-hole golf course, swimming pool, trail rides, non-power boating, and fishing. Good camping and picnicking facilities are also available. The park group camp is one of two maintained by the Nebraska Game Commission. Ever popular, this facility hosts church, Boy Scout, Girl Scout, 4-H, and many other organizations during the season.
Ponca State Park is particularly important for it has practically unlimited potential and is located near the populous portion of Nebraska. Visitation records were again broken. Particularly (continued on page 50)
FAST WATERS FOR TROUT
NATURE ENDOWED Nebraska with plenty of water suitable for trout, but left the job of establishing good fishing up to man. During the 19th Century, only a few cutthroat trout were reported by settlers. Now, rainbows, browns, and a few brookies are found almost from one end of the state to the other. Nebraska's cutthroat population disappeared over the years, but other trout varieties were brought in to populate Nebraska's many streams. Some of the attempts to achieve this would be impractical today. Included were the stocking of Atlantic salmon in the Missouri River at Omaha in 1875, and the dumping of Chinook salmon into the waters of the Big Blue River at Crete.
Intensive research now determines
what Nebraska waters will support
the cold-water clan. Rainbow trout
with ancestors in California now hob-nob with Eastern browns in the
state's clear, cool streams. These
gamesters are abundant wherever
the water is suitable. Panhandle and
Sand Hills rivers and creeks account
37
for the bulk of the available trout
fishing, with a few streams furnishing
fast-water sport in the northeastern
part of the state.
The panhandle's fast trout water cuts through three principal watersheds: the Niobrara, Pine Ridge, and North Platte Valley. Niobrara River anglers will have to wait a few months before they can tangle with trout of any size above Box Butte Reservoir. A large-scale renovation project was conducted last fall on the river's headwaters to remove carp and other rough fish.
The Niobrara has been restocked with thousands of fingerling rainbows and browns. It won't take long NEBRASKAland for the fertile water to do its work, and trout fishing there will be better than ever in quick order.
Short, relatively small creeks make up the running waters of the North Platte Valley Watershed. Trout anglers will have their best luck here in the spring, fall, and winter, because many of these streams are fed by irrigation seepage. Much of the water is tapped for agricultural purposes during the summer. Brown trout rule roost in this area until the big rainbows make their winter migration from the big impoundments on the Platte. These lunker spawners have been known to push as far as 200 miles in search of a place to set up housekeeping. They are big fish, often weighing in at five pounds or more. Knowledgeable bait fishermen who brave the cold weather for a crack at the rainbows favor trout eggs used singly or in tiny mesh bags, minnows, and worms. Spoons and spinners vie for top billing among artificials. The big fish start their migration in October. They remain in the Platte tributaries until April, then head back to the depths of their reservoir summer homes.
Nine Mile, Red Willow, Tub Springs, and Stucken Hole are all familiar names to trout fisherman in this area. Nine Mile and Red Willow are considered by many as the best trout waters in the state.
Third, but far from least of the
panhandle watersheds is in the Pine
Ridge. Hat Creek and the White
River and their respective tributaries
are fine trout prospects. The White,
however, is subject to flash floods
which can temporarily ruin habitat.
In addition to rainbows and browns,
there is a small population of brook
APRIL, 1966
39
trout in the Pine Ridge, though none
have been stocked in recent years.
They sustain themselves through natural reproduction.
Many of the Pine Ridge streams are quite small and the trout stick to pools, making caution the biggest item in the angler's bag of tricks. The unnatural vibration of a man's steps can send out a "Red Alert" to every fish around. Even the shadow of a rod can send them scurrying. Fly fishing is difficult in such small waters, but spinning lures, grasshoppers, minnows, and worms will usually fill the creel. The area claims its share of outstanding trout water, including Sowbelly, Soldier, East Hat, and Big and Little Bordeaux creeks.
Moving east into the Sand Hills, trout streams make up in quality of fishing what they lack in numbers. The Niobrara continues its long journey to the Missouri River across this region. Big browns are plentiful here, with prime fishing in such tributaries as Long Pine, Plum and, Schlagel Creeks. A trip to Fairfield Creek northeast of Valentine will pay off with scenery which rivals the fishing. Like most streams in this area, the Fairfield runs through private pastures, and permission from the landowner must be secured by fishermen. Fly rod artists will find plenty of room to exercise their skill on the Niobrara and Snake Rivers, and on the hard-to-get-to but bountiful upper North Loup.
Gully washers can play havoc with trout in the hills. A sudden cloud burst here can turn a small creek into a torrent of habitat destruction. Despite this adversity, some eye popping browns are hauled out every year, and a vigorous stocking program periodically replenishes the supply.
The Snake is good trout water in its own right, but a new feature is Merritt Reservoir, southwest of Valentine. The big impoundment serves as a cool retreat for hefty rainbows during times when the river itself is too warm. Merritt is easily reached, and is open to public fishing.
Northeast Nebraska is not noted for its trout fishing, but it shouldn't be discounted. The Niobrara River system carries the ball here, with several tributaries suitable for trout. The upper 10 miles of Steel Creek, Verdigre Creek near Royal, and the upper four miles of Big Springs Creek, four miles northeast of Orchard, are stocked each year to maintain a catchable trout population.
Verdigre is an outstanding example of the lengths man will go to maintain his sport. The Game Commission is virtually remaking the creek.
The fast waters are here. They always have been, but it took man to bring in the trout for his own pleasure. The state is building up a fish resource to a point where the sport of trout fishing is enjoyed almost from one end of the state to the other. THE END
40 NEBRASKAland
CHANNEL CATFISH
NOTES ON NEBRASKA FAUNA...VARIANCE IN SIZE, stubborness, fighting heart, and excellence on the table make the channel catfish one of Nebraska's most popular gamesters. A member of the family Ictaluridae, he wears the scientific handle of Ictalurus punctatus, but the channel catfish has a number of local names. He is sometimes called spotted cat, fiddler, channel cat, and catfish.
The channel catfish is easily distinguished from other fish by a smooth scaleless body, the eight fleshy barbels or "whiskers" around the mouth, and the strong sharp spines in the pectoral and dorsal fins. Body color is silver gray, profusely marked with dark spots, which are usually absent in larger adults. Young fish under three inches also frequently lack these spots. The largest channel catfish caught with rod and reel in Nebraska weighed 31% pounds.
Old "Whiskers" is not particular. He will eat all forms of living and dead matter. Because of a highly developed sensory system he feeds by touch, taste, and sight. A large part of his diet consists of insects and their larvae. Crayfish, snails, small clams, worms, fish, both alive and dead, are also eaten. An opportunist, the channel catfish is one to take advantage of the food at hand. Almost all forms of vegetable materials have been found in their stomachs.
Spawning takes place during May and June or after the water reaches approximately 75°, In stream environments the channel catfish seeks spawning habitat in hollow trees, rocky ledges, undercut banks, and old muskrat runs. Lacking natural sites, the catfish may use sewer tile, cream cans, or old tires. When the spawning site has been selected the male cleans the nesting area. After spawning, the male drives the female from the nest and assumes the family duties until the young are hatched. He guards the eggs, fanning them gently, and chases off trespassers. During the spawning period the male catfish develops a larger head and a deep blue coloration and is often mistaken for a blue catfish.
Females are generally mature when they are 13 to 16 inches long. Males mature at a somewhat smaller size. A first time spawner will lay approximately 4,000 eggs. Larger fish may lay 20,000 or more. The adhesive eggs, each about half the size of a pea, form a golden yellow, gelatinous mass. They hatch in 7 to 10 days depending on the water temperature. Young catfish travel in schools for several days or even weeks after hatching. When the fish can care for themselves they abandon the school and go it on their own.
All types of rigs and baits are used on channel catfish. Everything from a cane pole to the most expensive rod and reel will take him. In swift waters channel catfish feed largely in the channel or in deep holes below riffles during the twilight hours. As darkness sets in, they invade the shallower waters. Midday fishing is usually slow, but is best under brush piles, overhanging banks, or other protected areas. A rise in the stream usually triggers an increase in fish movement as they search for foods that wash into streams.
First found in Nebraska in 1892, the channel catfish inhabits every major stream system in the state. In recent years, he has been stocked in many of the state's lakes and is commonly stocked in small farm ponds. No prima donna, the channel catfish takes life as he finds it, a philosophy that endears him to anglers everywhere. THE END
RODEO IN THE ROUGH
A Sand Hills' bronc stomper stakes his all to win a most precious prizeTHE WIND WAS blowing hard, whipping up dust and bending the grass and sage low across the plains of western Nebraska. A glance at the sky warned me of the impending storm but I tied my tent and bedroll across my motorcycle at my home in Hemingford and headed for Alliance. The rodeo there, the 1934 Panhandle Stampede, started the next day and I was racing time so a few menacing clouds couldn't stop me now.
Roaring along the highways, passing creeping cars, I ignored the few drops of water that soon magnified into a downpour. But my thoughts weren't on the rodeo that I had to win tomorrow. They drifted back to the small lad of years ago who time after time posed the question, "How old do I have to be to ride bucking horses?" And the unwavering answer, "sixteen." At twenty-three that little fellow whose heroes were the best of the bronc riders seemed a long way off. The boy, who had ridden tumbleweeds and helped cut out steers in the pasture, had counted the days until that magical number sixteen.
And when that day arrived, I mounted a wild grey mare that had roamed the range untroubled by human hand. In those days there were lots of horses free on the range, some of them mean-natured old outlaws. Often I would ride to the top of a hill and watch a herd of horses in the distance take off in the opposite direction at the sight of me.
But on that first day, I cared only for that grey stick
of dynamite. My brother Charles got a good twist on
APRIL, 1966
45
her ears to keep her still and I slipped into the saddle,
getting on from the back of Charles' horse. With a mad
dash the bronc took off at full speed, then set all four
feet hard to the ground, and headed for the sky. She
went high, but not nearly as high as I went. I was still
gaining altitude when she came down. When I finally
hit the ground, the grey was long gone.
One fall didn't stop me. I let the mare run wild for many days at a time before riding her and then she really kicked, hitting my boot heel in the stirrups when I swung on. Her feet just above the hoofs got red from kicking my spurs. Once I made a "miscue" and I limped around for several days on a badly skinned leg from the connection the grey made.
Like the bronc stompers of my day, I learned from other riders and by the hard but exciting book of experience. I broke a good many horses and, although I didn't encourage a horse I was breaking to buck, the main fun of breaking them was gone for me if they didn't cut loose. One pinto gave me a real workout. Everytime I got on her, she would buck. She couldn't buck as hard as the grey but she was such a handy horse to practice on that I got to using her for that alone.
One big, black Roman-nosed outlaw taught me a few tricks. He didn't waste any time once I hit his back. Straight up in the air he went. It felt like he was about to fall over backwards but he straightened out and came back to earth with a jolting jar. He hit for the sky again and when he started twisting, I felt like he was a tornado, and I was lost in the storm. It was either buck off or go for leather so I grabbed the horn. With its help, I was still in the saddle when the black quit bucking. Once safe on the ground, I heard a neighbor say, "That kid'll sure make a bronc rider." So I felt pretty good, even though I had pulled leather.
These were mighty pleasant thoughts as I hurried on to Alliance. A lot of horses and a lot of chutes had marked my days since I tamed that black, although I only started the rodeo circuit after graduation from 46 NEBRASKAland high school in 1929. Up in our part of the country the rodeos started with the show at Alliance the last of June. Then came the fourth of July rodeos followed by county fairs until it got too cold for them in the fall. My motorcycle had carried me far and whether I was on a bucking bronc or a leaping cycle, my rides around the state were never dull.
The panhandle's rolling hills lulled me into memories of past rides. Once, an old friend, Harry Bernhardt, had decided to give rodeoing a try and came along. We traveled light since the motorcycle didn't have a sidecar, just a tandem seat on the back for the second rider. Chaps and spurs were rolled in our bedroll and tied across the front of the handle bars. Outside of sweaters and a change of socks, all the clothes we had were what we were wearing. But they were good, tough clothes so we wouldn't run too much of a risk of getting them torn in the first rodeo.
At dinner time, we stopped in a town, bought a loaf of bread and a can of pork and beans, and then rode on until we found a likely spot to sit on the ground and eat. Cafes were too expensive for us and we didn't waste any food either. If we had any beans and bread left over, we would pour the beans between slices of bread and take it along to help out at the next meal. After lying around a bit to settle our dinner, we changed drivers and went on.
Thinking about that trip made me slow a little. I was anxious to get to the Panhandle Stampede but not that anxious. On that trip we were headed for Burwell. Entries closed the night before the show and we had to make tracks.
"If we run her wide open, I think we can make it," I told Harry as I shifted into high and turned the throttle wide open. When we caught up with cars, graveled road pelted my face like hailstones, but only for an instant. Each car was soon left far behind while the fence posts at the side of the road passed in a blur.
We headed downhill when all at once the rear tire gave an ear-splitting scream. The motorcycle whipped toward the left ditch almost on its side while I fought for dear life to bring it back. Back it came, sunfishing to the right. I twisted the throttle down and we lost speed. I didn't dare jam on the brakes.
I had barely forced it away from the right ditch, fighting it as I had never fought a bucking horse, when Harry, motorcycle, and I all spun sliding down that graveled road.
We were skinned up and both of us were lame in our right legs, the side we hit the road on. The center was torn out of my leather pocketbook with holes clear through some paper money, but luckily it was still spendable. The meal snapper had put two little holes in my side like the fangs of a rattlesnake. But the motorcycle had fared pretty well. The frame was not sprung, but we could put our fists through the hole in the rear tire. The inner tube was just a mass of torn up rubber.
But no blowout marred my trip to Alliance. The streets were wet when I parked the cycle near the rodeo headquarters. A lot of cowboys had gathered outside the crowded office. Bronc stompers, bulldoggers, calf ropers, and Brahma bull riders with home addresses all the way from Texas to Canada milled around renewing old friendships. It felt good to be back at a rodeo and to meet and shake hands with cowboy friends from all over the West.
I quickly signed up for bareback riding, the only event I entered there. I knew I would really have to go some to win any prize money with some of the top riders entered.
That night I staked my tent on the rodeo grounds and rolled into my bed. There wasn't much between me and the ground, but that bothered me little. Most any cowhand can sleep better on the hard ground of the prairie than he can in a soft hotel bed in the city with all its clanging, unnatural noises.
As I stared at the top of the tent, my mind drifted back to the night after that motorcycle crack-up. All we had was our horsehide jackets to keep us warm as we lay down on the ground by a schoolhouse at the edge of town. It wasn't cool enough to bother the mosquitos though. They were out in full force that night, trying to eat what the graveled road hadn't ground off.
The damp Alliance earth sent my sleepy thoughts to a wetter night in Imperial, a night of steady rain. Luckily a large tent where revival meetings were being held had been set up in town. Harry and I pushed the motorcycle right in the tent with us and went to sleep to the sound of rain on canvas. The next morning we discovered some silver coins lying loose on the ground, coins the congregation had lost. We should have donated it to some worthy cause or given it to the preacher, but such thoughts never entered our heads. Instead, we donated it to the poor—Harry and me.
The sun, high in a clear sky over Alliance, greeted me the next day. It would be a good day for the rodeo. Old times and old tales abounded as cowhands reminisced. That afternoon I lay down on the ground near the corrals by the bucking chutes. I wanted to be plenty fresh for the horse I had drawn.
The bucking chutes in those days were the shotgun type, sticking out in front of the corral with the gate in the end instead of in the side like today's. Nearly all the rodeos through the country were held in the afternoon. And most had a half mile oval track outside the rodeo arena fence for relay races.
When the bareback horses, snorting and full of fire, were scared into the chutes, I was wide awake, all limbered up, and ready to ride. The broncs had a big number painted on each one's (continued on page 52)
Requiem for Rough Fish
A 130-miles renovation kick puts boot to Box Butte's finny Trash
AS I WATCHED preparations for renovating Box Butte Reservoir, ten miles north of Hemingford in Dawes County, Nebraska, I thought of all the planning and work that had been expended on this project, the largest stream and lake renovation job yet undertaken by the Nebraska Game Commission. I didn't want anything to spoil all of our efforts when the job was so close to completion but ten days of miserable weather had made me mighty apprehensive.
After a year's planning and plenty of hard preliminary work, this final operation was the key part of the entire project and it would be a mighty big letdown if our final assault on the big lake had to be scrubbed.
Men and equipment were poised and ready and I knew their disappointment would equal mine if any thing went wrong. But the day held promise. The pre-dawn darkness was calm so maybe the ten-day jinx which had plagued us would take the morning off and let us finish a task that had started in Wyoming and come down the Niobrara River to Box Butte Reservoir.
I was still worrying as I watched men and machines team up to lift the heavy drums of rotenone into the waiting boats. With nearly 5,400 gallons of chemical to disperse, I knew we would be there until late that evening. Winds could call a halt to everything as the heavily loaded boats could not operate safely. However, my fears were dispelled as the day wore on and personnel of the Nebraska Game Commission and the U. S. Fish and Wildlife Service continued to ring down the curtain on this large-scale stream and reservoir fish eradication project.
It was evident that Box Butte Reservoir needed renovation. Carp and other rough fish had become so numerous that game fish were all but gone. A high sportsmen use of 15 years ago had dwindled to practically nothing, leaving a valuable natural resource untapped and anglers unhappy.
When full, the reservoir provides a lake of about 1,600 acres. Irrigation drawdowns each year depend on annual precipitation, but, the lake generally remains about one-half full, covering 650 to 700 acres.
The use of toxicants in fish management, as a means of renovating undesirable populations for improvement of angling, is a highly sophisticated tool that has been in wide use and brought to a relatively high state of refinement in the past two decades. Throughout the country some 700,000 acres of confined lakes, ponds, and small reservoirs have been partially or entirely renovated.
By contrast, only about 14,000 acres of rivers and streams have been similarly treated. It has been demonstrated that chemical renovation of free-flowing rivers yield significant results when reinvasion of rough fish can be prevented, either through a natural barrier, an existing dam, or one that is newly constructed.
Generally, stream renovation is carried out above and through newly built reservoirs. Without such renovation a lake habitat usually offers ideal conditions for undesirable fish, much to the detriment of the gamesters stocked in the lake. By eliminating or severely reducing the trashers before closing a dam, the desirables will enjoy a head start with the aquatic food being channeled into their survival and growth.
This present project, involving Box Butte Dam and the Niobrara River above, differed only in that the dam was already present and a reservoir had to be treated, which added to the cost. It required about $25,000 to carry out the project. Rotenone for the lake was the substantial expense.
We used liquid rotenone which is harmless to humans and all other warm-blooded animals. Fish were 48 killed by suffocation since the rotenone prevented them from taking up oxygen from the water. Since the fish were edible, the public was encouraged to salvage them.
Completing a project of this size requires considerable planning and field work. As a first step, the entire Niobrara River was sampled at selected points, using an electric fish shocker, to determine the finny population. Of 28 sample stations, 17 had less than five per cent game fish. It was evident that 130 miles of stream must be included to insure success and prevent a reinvasion of trash fish into the lake. Only the extreme upper end of the Niobrara River and Van Tassel Creek, a small tributary in Wyoming, were untreated.
As we wanted to include a small portion of the stream in Wyoming, it was necessary to meet and discuss the project with the Wyoming Department and obtain its approval. Other agencies involved were the U. S. Fish and Wildlife Service, Bureau of River Basin Studies, and the U. S. Bureau of Reclamation.
An informative letter explaining the project was sent to each landowner along the stream. We also requested permission to cross their lands when actually carrying out the project. Follow-up personal contacts were also made with all the ranchers, for public relations are a large part of a renovation project. Articles explaining the project were written for area newspapers. We attended sportsmen club meetings and told our story.
During the fall and winter of 1964 the stream velocity was checked with a fluorescine marker dye which was timed as it passed pre-selected points, from which rotenone would be released. Water volume was also determined at these points. With this information, the exact amount of rotenone to be dispersed for a specified time was calculated. When treating the stream, each successive "drip" station starts as the rotenone from above reaches it. In the Niobrara River it took ten days for the water to flow from Van Tassel Creek in Wyoming to the upper end of the reservoir. Once the stream portion was started it became a round-the-clock job for the ten days. This is the "block" method of stream renovation.
Numerous irrigation dams along the river had to be opened on schedule and many miles of canals had to be checked and spot treated. Marshes were sprayed. A crew of five carried out the stream treatment. Work on the stream portion was initiated September 21 which allowed us to reach the dam early on Friday, October 1. By that time the dam was closed and will be kept closed until the 1966 irrigation season. This meant that we would not have to worry about killing fish downstream from the dam or setting up a detoxifying station.
On October 1 the reservoir was treated. We used six boats, three of them equipped with power spray rigs. Others dispersed rotenone with the prop wash while criss-crossing the lake.
Waters of the Niobrara above Box Butte Dam are trout supporting. With the removal of competitive rough fish, trout will have excellent survival and growth. Approximately 120,000 brown and rainbow trout have already been restocked throughout the watershed. Thereservoirs favor warm water fish and were restocked with fingerling channel catfish, walleye, northern pike, bass, redear sunfish, crappie, and white bass.
After restocking is completed, it will be a relatively short time until Box Butte Reservoir is back into production. With thousands of pounds of rough fish removed, all the biological productivity in the lake will be channeled into game fish production. Western Nebraska fishery resources have a shot in the arm which is guaranteed not to cause anglers any pain. THE END
PARKS FOR PEOPLE
significant was the jump in individual campers from 6,764 during the 1964 season to 8,615 in 1965. Cabin guests also outnumbered all previous years.
Overlooking the Missouri River, in Dixon County, this park offers 10 air-conditioned housekeeping cabins, swimming pool, trail rides, camping, picnicking, hiking, and fishing. Recently completed was a new modern restroom facility in the main day-use area. Construction of four additional vacation cabins started this spring.
To meet the serious need for a major state park in the southeastern portion of the state, efforts were continued toward the acquisition of land for the Indian Cave State Park facility. The area will be a major park in the system. Right now it covers more than 1,000 acres with acquisition continuing.
Last summer the Nebraska Youth Corps Program helped set the stage for initial development at the site. Through a cooperative work agreement with the Departments of Labor and Vocational Education, approximately 60 young men of high school age participated in several projects at the Indian Cave area. Activities included the installation of 416 rods of perimeter fencing and the clearing of 2 miles of roadway. A picnic-camp site was also cleared. Plans call for more fencing and site preparation as well as other development projects in 1966.
Nebraska's State Historical Parks have not been forgotten either. At Fort Kearny, located between Minden and Kearney, construction was started on the replica of the old blacksmith-carpenter shop. This was an important "travelers' aid" to those using the Oregon Trail in the 1850's and 60's. Soil cement blocks, using the dirt from the crumbled sod of the original shop, are used in this construction. Site location was established by the State Historical Society in an archaeological effort that was financed by the Game Commission.
An irrigation well was installed to keep the area green during recurrent droughts. Efforts were made to prolong the life of the old cottonwoods that were planted by soldiers in the early days of the fort. An outdoor display bulletin board was constructed and other preparations are afoot to enchance the restoration of the fort for the 1967 Centennial.
A new historical park made its debut on June 24, 1965, when Scouts Rest 50 NEBRASKAland Ranch at North Platte was opened after months of preparation. Buffalo Bill Cody's house was completely rebuilt and stabilized for public use. The big barn with gun stock rafters was renovated and Cody-related displays installed. Visitors appreciate the original Buffalo Bill movies in the barn theatre. Buffalo pens, parking areas, and Cody's log cabin from his Dismal River ranch are now part of the grounds. Located near U. S. Highways 30 and Interstate 80, this one-time headquarters of the famous scout and showman is a must see on any tourist's agenda.
There are two other historical parks in the making, Fort Hartsuff, near Ord, and Ash Hollow, southeast of Lewellen on U. S. Highway 26. Restoration work on Fort Hartsuff's officers' quarters, post adjutant's office, and guardhouse have already started. Much of the preliminary "clean up" work is already completed.
Land acquisition is a major problem at Ash Hollow, a historic stopover on the old Oregon Trail. This area still bears the ruts of the pioneer wagons that creaked across the prairies during the westward migration. Passage of L.B. 554 by the 1965 Legislature should clear the obstacles blocking purchase of this scenic and historic site.
This year's visitors to Arbor Lodge at Nebraska City will be pleasantly surprised at the improvements made there. The formal garden and pioneer cabin have been restored. Keeping the trees healthy in the J. Sterling Morton Arboretum is a continuing process.
One of the unsung heroes of your own community is your local independent insurance agent. He probably doesn't have the Congressional Medal of Honor, but he surely does deserve the heartfelt thanks of the people of your city.
He offers service "beyond the call of duty" service represented by the extra things he does for you without payment. Being a local man, he is the first one you look for to do work on the school board, hospital drive, or public-safety campaign. He is a local unsung hero, a member of—
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• NEW MODERN CABINS • BIG GAME BOW HUNTING (in season) • TROUT FISHING • SADDLE HORSES • ROCK HUNTING For varied excitement the whole family can enjoy, visit Rimrock Ranch, 9 miles northwest of Crawford. For reservations write: Rimrock Ranch, Box 30C, Crawford, NebraskaFor everything in sporting goods, fishing and hunting gear, team supplies. Drop by or drop us a line for the best sporting buy of your lifetime.
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Scottsbluff Sport Center LeROYREITZ, Owner Phone 635-1662 1600 Avenue A Scottsbluff, NebraskaState Recreation Areas have not been
neglected by the Game Commission.
Brownville has recently had a new road
and an all-river-stage boat ramp constructed while Louisville has been improved with a new beach, parking area,
and some additional road work. This
popular area saw two new sites cleared
for public recreation and furnished
with tables, stoves, and a new well.
A permanent caretaker is in residence.
Memphis has new stoves and tables.
The dead trees have been removed
from the lake and plans- for improved
interval roads are on the drawing
APRIL, 1966
51
boards. Ever-popular Fremont was improved with the addition of two new
double pit toilets, an enlarged camping
and picnic area, and a new paved access road.
Funds for this road improvement originated from the recreation
access road bill. Walgren in the vicinity
of Hay Springs, has a new well in the
enlarged camping area and its shelter
was extensively repaired. Its roads received much needed gravel. A major
face-lifting job at Lake Minatare, near
Scottsbluff, enlarged the day-use area,
added two new boat ramps and parking
areas. A full-time caretaker is in residence.
Lake Ogallala had two new toilets, gravel surfaced roadways, and a new well to serve the many campers who enjoy this adjunct to Lake McConaughy. Cottonmill, near Kearney, had its camping area expanded, its roads graveled, and new stoves and picnic tables installed. The lack of drinking water at Gallagher Canyon was remedied with a new well and pump. Johnson Lake, near Lexington, had the camping and day-use areas enlarged while that old favorite area of south-central Nebraska, Alexandria, got two new toilets. New signs and a unique native plant and tree museum were added to Dead Timber in the West Point area.
With the increased popularity of the "cook out", all state recreation areas have additional waist-high and/or ground level stoves. Rest rooms were repaired and painted in all areas.
Often described as "vest pocket" recreation areas, Nebraska's waysides are located immediately adjacent to major highways.
A new trash burner and two new toilets were installed at the Lodgepole Wayside Area. This pleasant little spot, located on U.S. Highway 30 and the Oliver Reservoir, near Bushnell, is perhaps Nebraska's most popular stop.
A new entrance sign identifies Cochran on Nebraska Highway 2. The bridge and entrance monument has been repaired at this picturesque little spot in the beautiful Pine Ridge. It is five miles south of Crawford.
Crystal Lake on U.S. Highway 20, near South Sioux City, saw its beach area marked, two new toilets installed, and internal road repair accomplished.
Mormon Trail on U.S. Highway 30, near Clarks, has two new toilets, internal roads graveled, and an entrance sign emplaced. A new wayside area, D.L.D. on U.S. Highway 6, near Hastings, was acquired, the area cleaned and fenced, and a well installed. Its opening is set for 1966. The American Legion Memorial Wayside on U.S. Highway 281, north of Hastings, received fireplace and picnic tables and had a well and pump installed. At Blue River Wayside on U.S. Highway 6, near Dorchester, two new toilets were installed and an internal road repaired. Additional land is in the acquisition process for this long-time favorite. Turtles and frogs take a dim view of the dead tree removal at Beaver Creek, near Hazard on Nebraska Highway 2, but travelers like it better.
Advent of the Federal Land and Water Conservation Act with matching funds from the state cigarette tax means that more improvements in Nebraska's outdooor recreation picture will be forthcoming. More watershed dams and lakes and recreation developments are in the picture.
The level of today's housekeeping maintenance is a far cry from yester-year. Areas that once received "clean up" visits once or twice a week are now made "squeaky" clean every day. Increased patrols and enforcement and additional resident personnel have greatly reduced vandalism and rowdyism. The public has demanded better outdoor recreation in Nebraska, with increased emphasis on our historic and scenic heritage, and in a democracy the public will be served. THE END
RODEO IN THE ROUGH
hip. We had drawn their numbers from a hat. I watched mine until the rodeo began.
In those days we rode the barebacks with loose ropes instead of the rig or surcingle they use today. And we had to jump off the best we could with no pickup men helping us.
The first riders weren't doing very well. Cowboy after cowboy would leave the chutes with their spurs high in the bronc's neck only to part company for the ground in the dusty arena. I stood there watching them buck off one after another and made my mind up that I would ride mine.
When my horse quieted to suit me, I slid down onto him careful so the wild-eyed, snorting booger wouldn't start chute fighting. A horse can rear over backwards, bang a fellow's leg hard against the chute, or knock him loose from his foothold just when he starts into the saddle. I'd seen cowboys hurt in the chutes and even some that were knocked down to fall under those wicked stomping, kicking hoofs.
When they swung the gate open for me, the bronc came out, bucking and twisting. I stayed with him until I heard the gun and then jumped off. But with my determination not to buck off, I had played it too safe, not scratching enough with my spurs.
Afterwards, I stuck around to watch the bulldoggers. One steer after another rammed out to the chute and a cowboy took his dive at those sharp horn handles to twist the critter to the ground. Next were the brahmas—big, ugly-looking brutes with humps on their necks like buffalo and thick, mean looking horns. And how they bucked. The bell fastened under the loose rope added to their naturally mean disposition.
Woe to the cowboy that lit near those hind feet for they could kick like a mule. When I rode my first brahma, I ended up flying over his head and crashing into the board corral. My shirt had ripped open from my shoulder to my belt and I was bruised but not really hurt.
That night I slipped into my tent and woke fresh and ready for a second day of rodeo. I made up my mind that I would scratch my bronc for all I was worth. Playing safe would get a fellow nowhere in this hot competition and I needed the money for my future bride. With the prize money, "Mickey" could come from Minnesota. And I wanted to be able to write and tell her I had won.
With the rodeo underway, bareback horses were firing good. It was raining cowboys. I watched them bucking off and each time thought there goes another rider who won't win prize money away from me. The sound of my name signaled it was time to climb the chute. A chute helper caught the end of my rope with a wire hook and ran it through the loop. They pulled it tight around my right hand that was shoved under the ropes.
"Get it plenty tight," I told them. The bronc reared up in the chute but when she was quieted, they pulled the rope tighter until my hand ached. "Let 'er out," I yelled, and we came out like a shot with my spurs high in the bronc's shoulders.
He headed toward the grandstand in a fast, twisting, dodging buck. But I sat on top, riding for all I was worth and wildcatting it. A little twist or a fraction of a mistake on my part and I would be thrown. No mistake about it, I was riding the limit and doing my level best.
The gun barked and I threw my leg high over the flying mane and slid to the dust. The cheers of the crowd filled the air, but even without them, I knew I'd made a good ride. The judges concurred and I wound up with first prize. And I had something to write about.
On the third and last day of the show, I was ready to ride again and do my darndest. When my bronc left the 52 NEBRASKAland chute with me on top, my spurs were in action again. I was out after prize money again, riding for all there was in me. The gun went off and I jumped from the horse, even though he was on a dead run. A couple fast somersaults on the ground and I headed for the chutes. I'd won again, this time tied for first place. So first and second money was split between me and the other rider.
Amounts of money varied at each rodeo. At one near Alliance, bronc riding was $15, $10, and $5 while bareback riding was mount money, a dollar for each horse ridden. I won third place at that rodeo and was as proud as a mustang stallion. On the way home from that one, my brother Art and I stopped to see a movie in Alliance. They had a free drawing for some gold coins and out of all that big crowd, Art won a $10 gold piece—more than I had won at the rodeo.
At the Imperial rodeo I was four dollars ahead when the show ended. But in those days a man could work all day at hard labor for one buck. And at a county fair rodeo at Bladen, I came away with $2.50. It was a mount-money show with no chance for prize money.
When the short) round, dark-complexioned felow who had contracted to put on the rodeo found I could ride, he wouldn't let me ride again so I came away with just the money from one horse.
There were times when I didn't make any money, but for a young bird on the trail of adventure it was a lot of fun. If I was short of cash, which was nothing unusual for a rodeo cowboy, I could get a stake. If a rider had a pretty good reputation for winning, it was seldom hard to get someone to pay his entry fee for half his winnings. Of course, it was always a gamble and, if the cowboy won nothing, he owed nothing to the man who entered him.
But now I had money in my pocket and it bought a ticket to Nebraska for Mickey. It seemed a long time since I had seen her off to Minnesota. The Pan-Panhandle Stampede money brought an end to my loneliness.
I'm 55 now and the top of my head looks like cattle range that has been overgrazed by sheep in a drouth. Mickey and I live in a trailer on my S Lazy T ranch northwest of Hemingford while our oldest son, Sheldon works it. Memories of bygone rodeo days fill my head and, although I don't know if it was rodeoing that mixed up the phone lines from my brain to my muscles, I do know I wouldn't trade a moment of the thrills and adventure of the rodeo arena.
Rodeoing is a dangerous game and many was the time I heard the remark, "I would rather be anything else than a cowboy." But, it's a great life, if you don't weaken. THE END
DUCKS IN THE WIND
along the narrow blacktop highway that fringed the side of the lake across from the island. Both hunters tensed as the big vehicle moved closer to the water. A small flock of ducks pumped out of the protecting foliage, but skimmed off to the south. More were sure to follow as the unexpected but welcome mechanical bird dog continued its way.
"Here we go," Rich chuckled, nodding toward a group of dots rising from the distant foliage.
Slowly the dots grew larger as the flock neared the island. It was a group composed mostly of shovellers and scaup. Following the pattern predicted by Dan, they circled and sliced low over the point, a fatal, mistake for two of them. Dan reared up and quickly broke his jinx by dropping a pair of scaup on the island. Rich held his fire because his friend stood between him and the now retreating survivors.
From then on, it was a waiting proposition for the now thoroughly chilled hunters. They anxiously scanned the air for ducks. An occasional small flock would shift from one clump of reeds to another close to shore, but the ducks appeared reluctant to leave the brushy haven. The hunters grew careless with impatience and cold. Rich stood up to ease a cramped leg muscle. He straightened just in time to see three scaup flare from their approach to the island.
"Never fails," he gritted, slumping back to his seat.
Dan didn't answer. He was intently watching one of the decoys. "Am I seeing things, or did that lead decoy move his head when you stood up?"
Rich followed his friend's gaze. "I think you are right. We have company!" He slipped out of the boat and stalked through the muck in a crouch. He rose, gun at his shoulder. Disbelief crossed the scattergunner's face as a buffledhead swam leisurely toward the more open water. The hunter shouted in an effort to spook the bird, but the "Sleeper" ignored him and Rich wasn't about to "arkansas" him under any circumstance.
A wet, chagrined duck hunter splashed back to the concealed boat. "Must have been a cripple."
"Yeah, a cripple," his companion laughed, as the bird rose and raced toward shore. "Don't let it get you. Anything can happen on a duck hunt."
"And usually does," Rich added, chuckling as he saw the humor of the situation. "He sure put one over on us. Hsst! Here comes a bunch right down the pike!"
A group of five or six shovellers zipped high over the lake, then veered in to give the decoys a once-over.
"Shall we take them?" Rich's urgent whisper was lost on Dan, whose eyes were on the ducks. The birds circled lower and then flared as the hunters stood up to fire. Three ducks cartwheeled down.
"Nice double, Rich!" Dan grinned.
"Way I've been shooting, I'm glad to get just one." "What do you say we trot out the boat for a little retrieving?" Rich nodded. "We might as well pull in the decoys and try our luck along the shore. They aren't moving much now, and I can't see waiting for another stock truck."
They pushed and pulled the reluctant boat from its marshy perch and worked it through the skim ice. Pulling up the decoys was tedious work. The wind shunted the boat in every direction but the one the hunters wanted, and it was all Rich could do to row the craft into position and keep it steady as his partner hauled in the blocks.
Once the decoys were aboard the real chore began. Dan rowed frantically, quartering against the wind. Rich, watching for the downed ducks, curled up in the bow to escape the freezing mist.
"There's one." The safety patrolman pointed to a bufflehead bobbing head down in the waves. The pair retrieved their birds after a diligent search and worked the boat through a contrary wind toward the bank. They dropped the decoys in a "J" pattern just off a promising stretch of shore line reeds.
Beaching the craft about 30 yards downwind from the decoys, the men plodded back to take positions. A green-winged teal flushed from the reeds at their feet and rocketed away.
Warmed a bit by their exertion, the hunters crouched in the frost-killed foliage to await developments. They could see several sitting ducks, dark against the water, but far away.
"Wind's finally going down," Dan said. "And I am glad the sleet stopped. Between that and the wind, I was about frozen out."
"There go some big ducks," Rich grunted. "But they're too far off to do us any good."
Dan wished aloud, "Maybe they will turn. I'd guess they're mallards, maybe five or six of them."
"There go some big ducks," Rich grunted. "But they're too far off to do us any good."
Dan wished aloud, "Maybe they will turn. I'd guess they're mallards, maybe five or six of them."
But the distant flock vanished over the hills. A pair of ducks, flying low APRIL, 1966 53 and hard, heaved out of a cove. They headed toward the island but wheeled to investigate the decoys. As they drew closer to the hunters, Rich and Dan could see they were scaup. Both web-feet cupped their wings to dump into the decoys. They flared as the men stood. Two guns sounded as one, and a scaup slapped water. His companion cut in his afterburner and darted away.
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"We'll have to chalk that one up to you," Dan laughed. "I hate to admit it, but I shot at the other one." He reloaded, grinding the spent shell and its giveaway gleam out of sight in the mud.
"It's almost quitting time in my book. You've only got one to go," Rich proposed.
"Can't argue a bit," Dan responded. "Look at it out there. It's almost dead calm in here by shore, and there's only enough breeze to ruffle the water out farther. Hey! There goes one who's been sitting up wind from us for a long time. He's headed this way."
Dan crouched, watching the bufflehead drake approach. He jerked to his feet and fired. The black and white bird wheeled frantically, but Dan's second shot dropped him close to shore.
"That about tears it for one day," Dan grinned, wading out to fetch his duck.
Rich admired the beautiful contrast on the bird's plumage. "You know, this sure is a fine-looking bird. He's a good one to end on."
"Yes, he gets the prize for looks," Dan conceded. "You know, it's a shame more people don't get out and shoot over decoys. I guess it's sort of a dying thing these days, what with low federal limits and all."
Rich waded out to begin picking up the blocks. "Well, it's got to be, or there probably wouldn't be enough ducks left for us to plan on doing this again next year."
Rich waded out to begin picking up the blocks. "Well, it's got to be, or there probably wouldn't be enough ducks left for us to plan on doing this again next year."
"Agreed," his hunting companion answered. "By the way, don't forget to save the burlap and lath. I have a feeling we will be needing them next year THE END
SLOW-MOTION BROWNS
and stunted trees were more numerous as we kept heading eastward but the whole valley still resembled a dreary moonscape.
"Good day for duck hunting," I remarked. Right on cue, a flock of American goldeneyes boiled out of a hidden slough. They vanished into the fog as I made a mental note to try jump hunting on the meandering Snake, come next duck season. We made a few more hairpin turns and three white-tailed deer bounced out of a draw and loped away.
"This area is pretty remote and the game is relatively tame but it is all private land, so permission is a must to hunt or fish. Most of the owners are pretty good about letting you in. A few are a little reluctant to open their land during the late summer and early fall because of the fire hazard," Ken said.'
We fished the new stretch for an hour and never lifted a trout. It was a somewhat disgruntled group of anglers who reassembled at the truck.
"I've got one more spot in mind. It's about three miles east of here and it is pretty good-size water. The fishing is generally good. Let's load up and hit it. We ought to make it about lunch time," Lou suggested.
The new water looked mighty promising. It was deeper and faster with plenty of aquatic vegetation to offer food and shelter to the browns. Cutbanks and bends made ideal hideouts for the elusive trout. One look and all of us were sure we would hit some action. We could see some beauties finning over the submerged weeds and we spooked a couple of real lunkers from under the cutbanks as we eased down to the river.
"It is going to take some long drifts and plenty of careful fishing to outwit these fellows," Lou warned, stringing up his gear.
The Gordon men hooked their minnows through both lips while Gene threaded his through the gills and into the back below the dorsal. Both methods were effective but Gene's rig appeared to have more flash and action.
Lou and Gene scored right away but Ken and I couldn't buy a bite. It was frustrating to watch the two anglers take fish while we made cast after fruitless cast with nary a take.
"Can't catch trout with a couple of walking hoodoos like a photographer and a lumberman around," Ken complained, making his jillionth cast.
Drifting a worm under a cutbank I got a solid strike. Playing the fish carefully, I eased him into the shallows only to lose him in that last critical inch between dry land and water's edge. I made a couple of wild pounces at the flopping brown but he had the split second he needed and all I got was a face full of Snake.
Gene, watching my frantic efforts, threw an exaggerated fit. For a couple of minutes I considered all the possible ways of exterminating photographers and then gave up both thoughts of mayhem and trout. Ken took one fish, a small one, but by that time Lou had three and Gene four. The trout averaged about 15 inches but one of Gene's was a husky 23-incher that he creeled after a five-minute hassle.
It was plain that the cold had robbed the fish of their normal acrobatics. They did not leap at the bite of the barb. Instead, they fought head down, working the bottom of the pools and trying to fray the leader against the vegetation and submerged outcroppings.
Almost before I realized it, the afternoon was shot. As we packed up, a 54 NEBRASKAland couple of coyotes started their evening serenade. Their yodels and long-drawn trills had a strangely haunting quality about them that seemed appropriate to the bizarre area and the unusual fishing conditions. I listened as the wild songs echoed and re-echoed around the hills, seeming to come from all directions at once.
In the gray light, I could easily understand why a lonely and frightened man could imagine he was surrounded by a pack of "ravenous" beasts, all intent on a human feast. It was hard to realize that only two "dogs" were singing.
That night at supper, Ken and Lou discussed the Snake and its trout. The river had been rotenoned in the fall of 1963 and fingerling trout stocked soon after. In less than three years, the browns had grown to their present size. Without competition from other species, the trout had plenty of food and since fish never stop growing, their rise to bragging size was quick.
"You don't fish for trout in the Snake, you hunt them. In the old days we had good trout fishing on the Snake but it seems to me there was more streamside cover. We had a lot of rough fish then, too. When the Game Com- mission announced plans to renovate the Snake I was against it but now I see the wisdom of the idea. From fingerlings to 15-inchers in 30 months is pretty good for any water. That old granddaddy of Gene's must have been a residenter that escaped the poisoning. He's about as good as any I've ever seen taken in the west end of the Snake," Ken commented.
"The Snake got its name from its crookedness, not from the snakes that are supposed to infest the area. I've fished the river a good many times and all I ever ran into were a few blue racers. You take a 10-foot shortcut on the river and you miss half a mile of good fishing water. Tomorrow, we'll try it farther east," Lou added.
The next morning was a beauty. Sometime during the night, the overcast had blown away and the new day was sparkling clear. It was still cold but the flaming sunrise promised a quick warm-up. We drove east on U. S. Highway 20 for several miles and then turned south through the Sand Hills until we reached the Alan Kime ranch.
Alan gave us permission to fish and it wasn't long before we were ready for a new go at the browns. This far east, the Snake was showing promise of its future wildness. Its channel was wider, its pools deeper, and the water much faster. Little falls and rapids kept the flow moving and in some spots there was just the hint of white water. It looked mighty trouty and Lou wasted no time in taking a brown from the head of a small rapid as his minnow drifted over a narrow chute. The little scrapper gave a good account of (continued on page 58)
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OUTDOOR ELSEWHERE
New Chance. One of the rarest birds in the United States is trying to make a reappearance. Department of the Interior officials recently wing-clipped and released 23 Mexican ducks at the Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge in New Mexico.—Washington, D. C.
Inverse Ratio. The number of accidental deaths from firearms is dropping while deaths from other causes are rising. Five years ago, firearms deaths amounted to 1.5 per 100,000 people. The rate is now about 1.1 per 100,000 people. —Missouri
Proved Innocent. A frustrated farmer who was slowly going mad trying to trap a coon he thought was stealing his sweet corn finally caught the real culprit. His ten-year-old pet dog had developed a taste for the sweet cobs.—Pennsylvania
Instant Forest. Foresters report 1,255 acres were seeded with pine cones in six hours by helicopter. The burned-out area was first scarified with a bulldozer pulling heavy anchor chains, then 22 million jack pine seeds were dropped.—Ontario
An "E-Gull." Officials who answered a call from a women who said she had found an injured baby eagle have decided to give her an "A" in the heart department. What she thought was an eagle was really a sea gull.—Pennsylvania
Scent Rent. As the book says, food and cover make good wildlife habitat. A farmer trying to trap coons ended up with a skunk in the cage. Not wanting to cause any odor, he opened the door so the skunk could walk out. Out went the wood pussy, but only to get some food before returning to the trap. He used it as his home for two weeks be- fore getting a forceful eviction notice.—Pennsylvania
Tarred But No Feathers. A fox who tired of leading a pack of hounds a merry chase headed for a large pool of sticky waste tar, and picked his way carefully across the pit. The hounds were so engrossed in the hunt they didn't realize they were in trouble until it was too late. At last report, there were 32 disgruntled foxhounds and 18 hunters facing a major cleaning job and admitting that a fox is a pretty wily animal.—England
Lists Cooking Time. Diners at the Hotel Europe in Kranj, Yugoslavia are advised just how long their meals will take to be served on the hotel's new menu, which lists the cooking time required for each dish.—Travel Weekly
There's Gold. The Gold Museum, which houses a $30 million collection of gold objects made before the Spaniards arrived in the Americas, is one of the prime sight-seeing attractions in Bogota, Colombia.—Travel Weekly
Duck Drama. A Phoenix resident got something of a jolt when he investigated a swimming pool ruckus involving his cat and dog. Cause of the row was two misguided mallards who had strayed slightly from the Pacific Flyway. The owner obligingly filled the bathtub and the ducks took up housekeeping while they all waited for game officials. After turning the bathroom into a rumpus room by jumping in and out of the tub and creating somewhat of a super-saturated mess, the ducks were taken away, but not before one of them made its contribution towards the rent by laying an egg in the bathtub.—Arizona
Wandering Goose. A single Barnacle Goose from Europe was recently sighted with a flock of black brant in Izembek National Wildlife Range. Unless the bird escaped from captivity, it had to cross one ocean and either North America or Asia to reach the refuge.—Alaska
Tale of Woe. A Connecticut conservation officer answered an unusual animal-rescue call. He came upon six young gray squirrels who had fallen from a tree nest with their tails seemingly hopelessly entangled and interwoven. Taking them home, he went to work unsnarling the problem. First, the officer separated the animals' heads and placed three under a basket. Then, hair-by-hair, he unbraided the tangled tails. After over an hour's labor, the happy squirrels were liberated in a nearby woods.—The Conservationist
Ancient Animal. America's oldest living mammal, the opossum, has a pouch and dates back unchanged to the age of the brontosaur, mastodon, and saber-toothed tiger.—Oklahoma
Clear as Mud. A game warden got these directions to find a bounty hunter: "Take the road on the back road to Siglerville from J. H. Bittner's Store. After you pass the shale bank and several turns you make the last turn right and the left turn left and go straight past the first barn on the right turn and turn left, go one rod past the first turn to the first mailbox." The warden is still trying to find the store.—Pennsylvania
Stars in Daylight? Tourists visiting the Spanish colonial city of Arequipa, Peru, are often amazed to find that they can see stars shining during daylight. The rare phenomenon is caused by the unusually clear air of the city, which has an elevation of 7,500 feet. — Travel Weekly
Pills for Pigeons. A Wildlife Research Unit has come up with a pill that may control pigeon populations. Still in the experimental stage, the chemical com- pound is similar to cholesterol. It was found completely effective for three months and still 75 per cent effective after six months.—Missouri
KAYAKS, One-man, $16.50; Two-man, $22.50. Sailboat, $39. Exciting Sitka Kayak Kits known world wide for speed and safety. Assembled in one afternoon. Free pictorial literature. Box 78-N, Brecksville 41, Ohio.
TRADE your old fishing outboard on a new Johnson Sea Horse. Best trades, up to $75, for Champions, Martins, Scotts, and others. Appleby Cartop and aluminum fishing boats, Larson and Chrysler boats, Johnson and Neptune outboards. All boating equipment lowest prices. Write Blackburn Auto Supply, Scottsbluff, Nebraska.
BUSINESS OPPORTUNITIESEXCLUSIVE FRANCHISE. Amazing new liquid plastic coating used on all types of surfaces interior or exterior. Eliminates waxing when applied on Asphalt Tile, Vinyl, Linoleum, Vinyl Asbestos, Hard Wood, and Furniture. Completely eliminates painting when applied to Wood, Metal, or Concrete surfaces. This finish is also recommended for boats and automobiles. No competition. As these are exclusive formulas in demand by all businesses, industry and homes. No franchise fee. Minimum investment—$300. Maximum in- vestment—$7,000. Investment is secured by inventory. Factory trained personnel will help set up your business. For complete details and descriptive literature write: ChemPlastics & Paint Corporation, 1828 Locust, St. Louis 3, Missouri.
BEEKEEPING; a profitable hobby. Learn the art of honey production. A complete correspondence course now offered by a 2500 colony commercial beeman. Write for particulars. Arnold Apiaries, Box 287, Arnold Nebraska. 69120.
CABINSATTENTION HUNTERS and vacationers For Rent. All modern cabins with cooking facilities, by day or week. Moderate rates Make reservations early. Also Mobil Cabins for sale. One half mile south of Chadron State Park entrance on highway 385. Phone 432-3781 or write, Parkway Cabins, James Konopasek, Route 1, Box 39A, Chadron, Nebraska
CAMPINGTWO NEW '65 camping trailers. Hi-Lo 15-foot Voyager, custom 13-foot Skamper Christensen, 214 Benton Street, Council Bluffs Iowa
DOGSBRITTANY SPANIELS, registered, nationally known champion sires, pups, older dogs Reasonable terms, extras, shipped. Embrheights, Box 5, Beaver Dam, Kentucky.
GUN DOG and field trial. Retrievers and all pointing breeds. Boarding year-round, clean concrete runs; best of feed and care. Labrador stud service. Well bred puppies for sale. Platte Valley Kennels, Route 1, Box 61, Grand Island,
HUNTING DOGS: German Shorthairs, English Pointers, Weimaraners, English, Irish, and Gorden Setters, Chesapeakes, Labradors, and Golden Retrievers. Registered pups, pups, all ages, $50 each. Robert Stevenson, Orleans, Nebraska.
BUY WITH CONFIDENCE. Select a James River German Shorthaired Pointer. Nations top bloodlines. Wonderful hunters Retrieve on land or water. AKC registered. Reasonably priced Pictures, Pedigrees. James River Kennels, Don Peitz, Oakes, North Dakota
56 NEBRASKAlandLABRADORS 13, 6, and 1/2 months old. English Pointers, 9 months. Registered. Males $35, Females $25. Roland Everett, Atkinson, Nebraska.
AKC, UKC Bloodhounds, UKC Redbones, AKC, UKC. Black and Tans Pds. Illustrated Folder $1. W. B. Frisbee, R-3, Madison, Missouri.
VIZSLA puppies and started dogs available. Soni Brook Selle at stud. Free brochure. Graff's Weedy Creek Kennels, Route 3, Seward, Nebraska.
BROKE coyote dogs for sale. Greyhound two stag. Five year to six months. Guaranteed catch and kill. Leonard Wempen, Elm Creek, Nebraska.
FISH LURESAMAZING Fishing Secrets! Catch any fish including catfish. 20 minutes. Guaranteed. Information $1.98. Frank Lacy, 626C North Newlin, Whittier, California.
FISHERMEN: Catch all the white bass you want and your limits of sauger, walleye and northern. Use a white or yellow SKITTER JIG. Send $1 and receive two V4-0Z. jigs postpaid. SKITTER PRODUCTS, 205 South 15th Street, Norfolk, Nebraska.
MARIBOU FISHING Jigs. Assorted colors. 5 for $1. For crappies, bass, and bluegills. Miss Marion Teeters, Walthill, Nebraska. 68067.
GUNSATTENTION RELOADERS— We don't sell catalogs. We just sell quality and service. We are jobbers for and carry a complete stock of these lines: Alcan, Bushnell, C. C. I., Dupont, Eagle, Hodgdon, Hornady, Hercules, Lee Loaders, Lyman, Lawrence Shot, Norma, Redfield, Remington, RCBS, Shur-X, Speer and Texan. Walter H. Craig, Box 927, Selma, Alabama. Phone 872-1040.
TERRIFIC VALUES: "MEC" 600, Jr. reloaders $43.50. Redfield Scopes 3x-9x, $67.50; 2x-7x, $62.50. Leupold Scopes 3x-9x, $62.65; 2x-7x, $55.65. Hodgdon Rifle Powder #4831-100 lbs., $64.50. Everything Prepaid. ESMAN'S. Turtle Creek 20, Pennsylvania. Free Lists.
NEW, USED AND ANTIQUE GUNS. Send long addressed 100-stamped envelope for list, or stop in. Bedlan's Sporting Goods, Fairbury, Nebraska.
GUNSMITH'S ASSORTMENT: OVER 200 pins, gun screws, springs, steel rivets, etc. for faster gun repair. $6.85. Overland's Gun Supply, Independence, Iowa 50644.
PRECISION European Pellet Rifles for adults. Sporting, Match, Pistol, and Pellet Catalogs available; specify. Air Rifle Headquarters, Grantsville, West Virginia.
HUNTINGMIMS Ingenious Portable Bamboo Duck & Deer Blind. Weighs 14 lbs. Also Portable Platform, a natural for overwater, marsh and swamp shooting. Designed Do-It-Yourself Plans $1—Nebrsskaland readers $.50. Write MIMCO (Free Brochure) P. O. Box 239, Santa Barbara, California.
BUCKSKIN JACKETS. Deerskins tanned. Send 50c for Buckskin money poke and complete catalog. Berman Buckskin Company, Minneapolis, Minnesota. Dept. N.
MISCELLANEOUSCOLLAPSIBLE Farm-Pond Fish-Traps: Animal Traps, postpaid. Free information, pictures, Shawnee, 3934-AX Buena Vista, Dallas 4, Texas.
LIKE SWEET ONIONS? New blue ribbon assortment 600 sweet onion plants with free planting guide $3, postpaid, fresh from Texas Onion Plant Company "home of the sweet onion," Farmersville, Texas 75031
LOSING HAIR? Balding? Dandruff? Free copyrighted booklet. Dr. Shiffer Laboratories, 583 Euclid Arcade, Cleveland, Ohio. 44115.
QUALITY NEBRASKA LAND NOTES: Pioneer Scene, black and white ink sketch. 4 1/2 x 5 1/2 notes with envelopes $1 per dozen. Postpaid. Mrs. Elmer Lund, Genoa, Nebraska.
PRAIRIE FIRE: Grasshoppers! Stampede! Play "STAKE A HOMESTEAD," Nebraska Centennial Game. Hours of fun. Children learn Nebraska's beginning. Stores, museums, Centennial Committees, or $2.98 postpaid, Woster Games, Plattsmouth, Nebraska.
ATTENTION Souvenir Shops. Nebraska shape key chains, desk sets, others. Write for list. Opal Harshfield, Box 72, Sutherland, Nebraska 69165.
STONEGROUND CORNMEAL. Most complete line Health Foods. Many processed daily. Come see us or write. Brownville Mills, Brownville, Nebraska.
SHEET MUSIC. Four new Nebraska songs. Excellent for school and civic programs, Radio or Television. Four for $3. Ray Publications, 1117 "N" Main, Fremont, Nebraska.
FOR SALE—Chain link portable dog kennels For more information phone 466-6968 or write Arthur Maronde, 3325 North 70, Lincoln, Nebraska.
FOR SALE: Canada geese, white call ducks, Golden and ringneck pheasants, all 1965 hatch. Will not ship geese. Mrs. Merle Cubbison, 1309 Logan, Norfolk, Nebraska
SCHOOLSGAME WARDEN, Government Hunter, Forestry, Park and Wildlife Services announce job openings regularly. Prepare at home for outdoor work, good pay, security. Complete information Free! Write North American School of Conservation-KX, New Port California. 92660.
SCUBA EQUIPMENTBOB-K'S AQUA SUPPLY, Nebraska's largest Scuba dealer. U.S. Divers, Sportsways, Voit, Swimmaster, Scubrapro. Air Station, Regulator Repair, Telephone 553-0777, 5051 Leavenworth Street, Omaha, Nebraska.
When Writing to the Advertisers, Please Mention You Saw it in NEBRASKAland• More than 50,000 OUTDOOR NEBRASKAland readers form an active buying market for all types of products. From sporting equipment to health foods, all are sold through OUTDOOR NEBRASKAland classified ads.
• OUTDOOR NEBRASKAland's reading audience keeps growing, but OUTDOOR NEBRASKAland's classified advertising rates remain LOW . . . only $.15 per word with a $3.00 minimum.
# Classified advertising in OUTDOOR NEBRASKAland is attractively displayed so no advertisement is lost. The classified section consistently has high readership.
9 Most important, OUTDOOR NEBRASKAland classified advertising SELLS! So whatever you want to sell or buy, you'll hit the jackpot with OUTDOOR NEBRASKAland classified advertising.
For Winning Results, Use OUTDOOR NEBRASKAland Classified Ads
WHERE-TO-GO
MANY YEARS AGO, a white ribbon of covered wagons stretched its way across the NEBRASKAland prairie. Their huge, iron-lipped wheels carved out deep ruts in the virgin sod, leaving behind a web of stories of the winning of the West.
Many of these stories remain still buried today, resting alongside the same trail that heralded the Overland Stage, Pony Express, the humming wires of the telegraph, and finally in history, the "Iron Horse." The Oregon Trail was the first and most famous. It was in its day a great national highway.
Now, 136 years after the first wagon master pushed a train across the prairie, a special museum has been erected to honor NEBRASKAland's pioneers. Three other eras sired by this epic opening of the West—the cowboy, the Indian, and the cattle drives—are also remembered.
The Trails Museum, located one mile north of Ogallala on U. S. Highway 26, is not the first of its kind, but is already famous. The museum, with its 2,400 square feet of floor space, open beamed ceiling, and stone-faced front, has replaced the Conestoga wheels of yesterday in telling the story of man's progress in Keith County. In the words of its owner, Emil Elmshaeuser, "it's a place to preserve our local history, and above all, to help our educational program."
Elmshaeuser, one of Keith County's foremost historians, has dedicated himself to keeping the history of this country in front of the residents and ever-present tourists. His knowledge of early Nebraska has been written into many a speech for history students at schools located near Ogallala.
It has taken 15 years to collect some of the historical material for the displays. Even personal possessions from the Paris Exposition of 1900 have been rounded up. Proof of the enthusiasm on the part of the owner for the project is a dollars-and-cents investment of "at least $12,000." But this town of Ogallala knows the value and potential of the visitors' dollar and Trails Museum is a part of the town.
What started out as a hobby for Elmshaeuser has turned into one of the area's finest collections of Indian artifacts, and rocks and minerals. One area very popular with visitors is a photo display of many of the county's pioneers. Another strong feature is a bedroom set which dates back to 1845. Then, too, more than one silenced Singer sewing machine is on exhibition.
There are two displays of the old Keith County courthouse built in 1888 and occupied until 1963. Elmshaeuser has in the museum the pressed-metal "circle" from the top of the courtroom and the 1888 year marker which appeared over the building's entrance. An antique corner includes old-time clocks and lamps. There is also a stamp and coin corner, parlor organ, wooden beam plow, a rolltop secretary's desk, and a mangle used in the old Martin Hotel in Ogallala. History buffs of the wild, Texas Trail era are working with the museum, too, in an effort to update that era's display.
Another section contains swords from three wars—The Persian War, World War I, and World War II. Still other features are a chandelier which stands five feet tall, several mounted deer heads, fossil displays, and an extensive crystal rock collection. The museum was a part of the itinerary in 1964 for Governor Morrison's Motorcoach Tour of the state. Special tours for groups can be arranged by writing to the owner in care of the museum.
Another attraction on a famous "trail" through NEBRASKAland is Karrer Park at McCook, hub city on the Republican River in Red Willow County. The 10-acre end-o-day haven east of town is known to travelers all up and down U. S. Highway 34, and for good reasons. A modern "hospitality facility" features eight free fireplaces, a sprawling camping area, and a brace of hot-water showers in a new building for all who call on the site. So many tourists have stopped there that recently the city of McCook decided to hire a full-time caretaker for the grounds. During the summer months, he distributes travel information to visitors at the Park.
It's all McCook's way of saying, "Welcome to our town, and to our state, NEBRASKAland—w here the West begins." THE END
SLOW-MOTION BROWNS
(continued from page 55)himself in the faster water but the rod whipped the fight out of him and after a minute or two he was glistening on the frost-rimmed grass.
As Gene unlimbered his camera gear, Ken took two browns from a deep hole that eddied under an overhanging bank. Lou's early luck deserted him and he fished for more than an hour before he creeled another trout. In the meantime, Ken fooled another keeper with a red worm. After Gene finished his picture chores, he picked up a rod and fished hard for about an hour. He covered plenty of water and took three medium-sized fish with his patient angling.
We knocked off at noon and threaded our way back to the main highway, well pleased with the whole deal. We had taken some fish under difficult conditions, enjoyed the rare experience of successfully fishing for a traditional summer species in the winter, and seen some wonderfully remote country.
"You fellows come up this summer. We'll get some grasshoppers and really give those trout a going over. They will be bigger, too," Ken urged as Gene and I got ready to head back to Lincoln.
"Which will be bigger, the grasshoppers or the trout?" I asked. "Both," he answered.
I have a hunch, come summer that I am going to find out if Ken knows his grasshoppers. THE END
NEBRASKAlander
(continued from page 23)distribute to travelers. Additional personnel crests are available at 50 cents each and 30 by 36-inch NEBRASKA- Iander Tourist Information signs including metal posts and attachments are available at $21 each.
With the bright crimson and white NEBRASKAlander Tourist Information sign set up and all the handout vacation material in place, the newly-accepted firm is ready to take on all comers. This won't be long in coming, since tourists are being encouraged to "Look for the NEBRASKAlander" as they travel through the state. This is a vital phase of the program. Radio, press, television, and magazines, plus all printed material of the Tourism Division are utilized to make the tourist concious of the information service that is available.
Thanks to the NEBRASKAlander Program, those vacationers who once whizzed through the state without taking a second look are now enjoying the state's beckoning vacation trail. Informed families are eagerly exploring our many Wild West attractions. In the process, they're leaving new dollars in the state, dollars which are destined to make the travel industry one of the biggest contributors to Nebraska's economic welfare. THE END
NEBRASKAland
Land of Nebraska, the home of my choice, Well may thy sons in their country rejoice. No traitor can profit, no tyrant enslave, Where the yellow corn bends and the golden grains wave Let the bright sunny southland its flowers unfold The west has her silver, the north was her gold. The east has her culture, her wealth and her pride, Our praries can feed them and many beside Land of Nebraska when thunder clouds form, When the strong oaks of commerce bow low to the storm. She calls to her children who are wandered afield, Come back to the bounty our praries can yield. Land of Nebraska home of the free, Still be my heart ever loyal to thee. I know it, I feel it, no more shall I roam, I'll cherish forever my own prarie home.
Valentine
For your favorite brand of recreation visitWhether you spend a weekend or your entire vacation, Valentine and the surrounding area includes a wealth of recreational activities and top accommodations, winter or summer.
See Nebraska's falling waters and the beautiful scenery of the Sand Hills. Snake Falls, Nebraska's largest, and Smith Falls, Nebraska's highest, are both near Valentine. Merritt Dam offers the best in trout fishing, plus free camping facilities. It is easy to reach with a good access road.
Year-round angling, top mixed-bag hunting, canoeing down the Niobrara, and free camping in the City park make Valentine the outdoorsmen's paradise.
Fort Niobrara Wildlife Refuge, world's largest outdoor fish hatchery, Sioux Indian Museum, St. Francis Mission, and many more attractions are in Valentine or near by for you to see and enjoy. Make plans now to visit Valentine.
For more information on Valentine write: Valentine Chamber of Commerce Tourist Information Center Valentine, Nebraska
