NEBRASKAland
WHERE THE WEST BEGINS October 1969 50 cents A COMPLETE LIST OF AIRPORTS FOR ALL SPORTSMEN NEBRASKA OWNED PIKES PEAK AUTUMN ALONG THE PLATTE 102 MALLARDS IN ONE DAY
Don't Pass A Buck
...or a doe. And, deer hunters find that Nebraska is mighty hard to beat. Quality with a capital "Q" is the word for big-game hunting here, "where the WEST begins". With elusive whitetails and sleek mule deer, Nebraska offers nimrods an opportunity to pursue their sport in the dense woodlands or the rolling plains.
Chances are good, too, that you'll bring home the venison. Traditionally, over half of the riflemen who go afield in NEBRASKAland score. For gunners and archers who like a challenge, there are big bucks with handsome racks roaming the prairies and timber, waiting to test your mettle. Over 400 hunters have qualified for Nebraska big-game citations for mule deer and whitetails, taking bucks scoring well up the Boone and Crockett scale.
Residents and nonresidents alike can enjoy the state's exciting deer hunting, and permits are just $10 for Nebraskans and $30 for out-of-staters. And, gunners could take along a shotgun and small-game permit to double their pleasure with a sidetrip for pheasants, quail, ducks, geese, squirrels, or cottontails.
To get a permit, fill out application on Page 31.
Speak Up
NEBRASKAland invites all readers to submit their comments, suggestions, and gripes to SPEAK UP. Each month the magazine will publish as many let ters as space permits. Pictures are welcome. NEBRASKAland reserves the right to edit and condense letters.— Editor.
COTTON FOR CARP-"Referring to Mrs. Stanley W. Wezorek's request for a carp bait in the May 1969 Speak Up, I used a similar recipe when I lived in St. Paul, 60 years ago. One of my fishing partners would work the cornmeal into cotton. This tended to hold the bait on the hook longer. Sometimes we made it into a ball and other times we formed it into a 'caterpillar' to fit the hook. I don't recall our results, but I do remember catching a big carp one time using four or five kernels of canned corn on my hook.
"We used to go on overnight fishing trips to the Middle Loup River for cat fish. We would net some shiners for bait, or catch some half-starved sunfish from a sand pit. These would stay on the hook until we either caught a big fish or quit fishing. We used setlines by ramming willow poles into the river bank at a likely hole, or else strung trotlines with several hooks attached across some deep and quiet water. We would catch three or four catfish every trip, but sometimes we would go home without any." —Ed Mason, Cody, Wyoming.
MONTHLY RITUAL-'Thank you for your wonderful magazine. The stories and pictures are truly a representation of what Nebraska has to offer. Being in the military, I have seen many beautiful countries but few compare to our NEBRASKAland.
"Being without my family in Vietnam, the magazine is a monthly ritual I await. I read it from cover to cover, then loan it to others with the requirement that I get it back, for I enjoy relooking at it when I have time.
"I hope sometime to see an article on the Loup Power Canal around Genoa. Lots of big catfish are taken there." — Robert R. Cooper, USAF, Vietnam.
LIKES OUR POEMS-"I enjoy the little poems you publish in NEBRASKAland and thought perhaps you would like this one that I wrote a few years ago." —Mrs. Otto Haiberg, Lincoln.
OCTOBER Old Jack Frost with strokes so bold Mixes pots of bronze and gold; Paints the pin oaks all in fun Fiery colors in the sun. Nature just gets out of hand When it's autumn in NEBRASKAland. Smell of bonfires on the air; Here's October with a flair. Picnic suppers on the lawn, Roasting ears with butter on. Beefsteak sizzling in the pan, That's autumn in NEBRASKAland. Early mornings, fresh and cool. Children going back to school Playing hopscotch as they go, Bringing treasured things to show. Football is here, strike up the band, For it's autumn in NEBRASKAland. Bulging bins are filled with corn, Songs of blackbirds greet the morn. Juicy apples and cider sweet; Blushing peaches — what a treat. Bittersweet on roadside stand, That's autumn in NEBRASKAland.WONDERFUL COVERAGE - "You have wonderful coverage of the vast variety of Nebraska's interests. Artistry in Ice, Negro Homesteaders, and Of the People, By the People, For the People were great. I also like to see articles written by a cross-section of the people in our state such as the Mari Sandoz Essay Contest winner in the February 1969 issue and stories about Nebraska People like Cornshuck Kate in the March 1969 magazine." —Lucille Ehernberger, Schuyler.
MEMORY LANE-"Being almost 76 and an ex-Nebraskan, I thought you might be interested in how it was in the old days. I spent my early boyhood on a little farm half-way between Silver Creek and Duncan, at a whistle-stop known as Gardiner.
"My father was a gandy dancer on the Union Pacific when it was only a one track. I can remember when the second rails were laid, and when the Sherman Hill gravel was put on for ballast. Dad got $1 a day, and worked from 7 a.m. to 6 p.m., 6 days a week. When the men struck for a $1.50, Dad was home for 2 days. He wasn't out of work, for mother had him paper the living room.
"The big day came when the pay car came through. They paid the section men wherever they happened to be along the railroad and they were always paid in cash.
"The following Saturday night, mother and I would have the cows up and the milking started by the time dad got home. After supper, and the rest of the chores done, we would drive into Silver Creek to shop. The stores stayed open until midnight on Saturdays. Mother used her 'butter and egg' money to buy the groceries. If anything was left, she would always buy a dollar's worth of sugar. It was 20 pounds for a dollar.
"I started to school in the third grade, and walked 2Vfc miles each way, as there were no buses in those days. During the fall harvest and spring plowing and planting, there were times when I was the only pupil in school, but we had our regular classes. The main subjects were the three H's', with geography and physiology besides.
"School started the first of September and ran for nine months, with only a week's vacation at Christmas. Then the teacher got to go home for a visit. The rest of the time she stayed at one of the homes in the district, and sometimes had to walk over a mile to her school. She had to get there early enough to build a fire in the stove, do the sweeping and dusting, and get a pail of fresh water before the pupils arrived. She taught all grades from the third through the eighth. All this for $40 a month.
"During the summer, I spent most of my time fishing, as we lived near the banks of Prairie Creek, and only one fourth mile from the Platte River. Most of my fishing was done with hook and line, setlines, trotlines, and spearing. The fish were channel cats, black bull head, carp, buffalo, quillbacks, and a few grass gars. The carp, gill-backs, and gars were fed to the hogs. We ate the cat fish and bullhead"-Thomas E. Adams, Lynnwood, Washington.
GEOGRAPHIC BOO-BOO-"Isn't it surprising the number of boat owners who are so unfamiliar with the shape of Nebraska (geographically speaking) as to put their annual boat stickers on upside down? I am referring to the photograph on page 39 of the July NEBRASKAland." — R. E. Laffoon, Bellevue.
BIG FELLOW —"Readers may be interested in this photograph of Ralph Schmidt of Monroe holding a 79-pound flathead catfish. The lunker, which weighed 20 pounds over the current state record of 59 pounds, was recovered from the trash racks at the Monroe power plant on the Loup Power Canal west of Columbus. The 79-pounder will not 6 NEBRASKAland qualify as a new state record because it was not taken by hook and line. The cat was alive and lively when removed from the machinery by Mr. Schmidt, the plant operator, and a maintenance crew. Zoologists at the University of Nebraska estimated the fish's age at 23 to 25 years old.
"Thirty and 40-pounders have not been uncommon at the Monroe plant in the past, and an occasional 50-pounder has rivaled the record book. This points up the availability of record-breaking fish which NEBRASKAland offers anglers willing to accept the challenge."—Jon Farrar, Lincoln.
SCANDALIZED —"I was scandalized by your recent NEBRASKAland. How could you print such filthy, obscene material which will drive the innocent youth of our state to immorality? How dare you show picture after picture of totally naked bass and carp writhing in streams, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination? As if this were not enough, you had the audacity to entitle one article, Birth of a Creek. Subjects like this should be discussed in private, if at all. Phrases like 'the water's fertility' do not belong in a family magazine.
"Unless you discontinue such practices, I will be forced to censor the magazine before I allow my father to read it." — Prudence Pureheart, (Julie Eyer) Omaha.
THE LIMIT-"After reading the protest from the Cambridge subscriber in the June issue, I turned the page and saw the limit. I'm in favor of discontinuing such pictures."—L. E. Mcintosh, San Francisco, California.
POINT OF VIEW-"It's all in whose looking. The men, with few exceptions, enjoy the hostess pictures. The women, with few exceptions, just don't care for those gals.
"Now I wonder? Are the women really being honest? Are they objecting to the gals, or are they objecting to their men enjoying them so much? Let's face it. Men were made to look. That's the nature of the brute, and we really wouldn't want it any other way. Stop and think. If he can look at that pretty gal and then look over at you with that special look reserved for you and you alone have you got one kick coming? I'll say not. He's paying you the biggest compliment of your life and you'd better wake up and enjoy it." —Mrs. Martin Pearson, Cere sco.
I LOST —"I was born and raised in Lincoln and am now fighting in Vietnam. I'm the assistant gunner on an 8-inch gun and most of the 12 men in my section are from the East, so I get a lot of bull from the rest for being from the 'Wild West'.
"So, to set them straight I get NEBRASKAland, and you would be surprised to see how all the guys wait their turn to read it. They all say it's an uptight magazine.
"The real reason I'm writing to you is this: sixteen of us drew cards to see who would write to you about the Hostess of the Month and I lost...I would like to ask the people who object to the feature if they have ever gone into a drugstore and looked at the magazines on the racks. Those cover girls have less clothes on than the hostesses...
"It's like the guys say, 'Sure, it's nice to look at those revealing magazines, but it's better to look at the pictures like the ones in NEBRASKAland. They remind you of the girl you've got back home.'" —Ron Schmuck, Vietnam.
SHOULD BE PROUD-"I'm stationed in Vietnam, and here's how I feel about those who think these semidressed girls are indecent. They must have very low minds. The girls who are the Hostesses of the Month are not looked at as sex symbols but as beauties of NEBRASKAland. The people of Nebraska should be proud to show the world that we have the lovelest girls in the country." —SP/4 Vernon H. Skrdlant, Vietnam.
DOES NOT BELONG-"Like the subscriber from Cambridge, we do not like the semidressed girls in our magazine. The girl on the outside cover of the June NEBRASKAland is lovely, but the one on page 9 does not belong."—Mr. and Mrs. W. C. Mackey, Holdrege.
CAN IT BE?-"I have just read the letter from the Cambridge subscriber in the June Speak Up concerning the hostess feature in NEBRASKAland. Can it be that the same hostess photograph is not used in all copies of each month's issue? I raise the question since the only photos appearing in the copies I receive are those of potential candidates for the title of 'All-American Girl' of whom all Nebraskans should be proud. Keep up the good work." —Lowell Oamek, Boise, Idaho.
I HAMMERED LIGHTNING
by Don Blair as told to NEBRASKAlandMY HAMMER came down on the head of one of my well-worn spikes and it was like hitting a stick of dynamite. The whole world seemed to explode, around me and inside me. A powerful force threw me 20 or 25 feet and slammed me to the ground. I wasn't unconscious but the wind was knocked out of me and I was paralyzed.
Through a haze I saw dad rush over to me to pick me up, shouting something about me being as white as a ghost. Even then I was thinking how it was such a pleasant afternoon and how welcome it was after the severe winter of 1949. It all began when my dad dragged an old radio out to tinker on, since it had quit the night before. I was an active 6-year-old at the time, and I joined dad under the grove of cottonwoods to enjoy my favorite but unusual pastime of pounding nails into a 12-inch stump, then pulling them out. A storm was building up, but it was still a ways off, so we didn't pay too much attention to it at first.
I was so intent on my fun that dad's repeated urgings for me to go into the house went unheeded, even after it began to sprinkle. I kept insisting that I wasn't getting wet under the protection of the leafy umbrella. Heavy, dark clouds rolled above us and continued to dump more and more water down while lightning darted brightly across the sky. Noise from the storm was tremendous and we should have known it was very close, but there was something exciting about the flashing and booming. And, it was fun sitting in the shelter of the cottonwoods punching holes in that stump.
It was then, just as my hammer descended to the head of the nail, that the world exploded. Attracted by my dad's yelling, mom came to the doorway just as he was carrying me to the house. He stammered out an explanation which I heard despite my haziness. I heard him say a lightning bolt bounced off one of the tall trees, then apparently it had come down and centered on my hammer just as I hit the nail. The force of the lightning stroke must have grounded out into the stump through the nail and just bounced me around on the way. I was not burned at all, but something even stranger happened after that.
Being left-handed, it was my left side that caught the worst of the jolt. Most of my side, especially my arm and leg, felt as though it was sound asleep. Dad had commented on how white I was, but that didn't last long. Within a few minutes I turned yellow!
"Look at his arm," dad said "It's as yellow as mustard."
I don't recall what I looked like myself, for I was still pretty groggy, but the story was retold often enough in the next few days and weeks for me to learn every detail by heart.
At the time, we lived just off U.S. Highway 30 about midway between Roscoe and Paxton in western Nebraska. My folks wanted to take me to a doctor, but I was more afraid of that than what had already happened to me. I quickly convinced them I was fine and except for the numbness and a slight dizziness, I was fine. That threat of a trip to the doctor made me recover even faster.
About a half hour later, the weather and I were both nearly back to normal, and I was plenty glad for both. Circulation was gradually coming back into my arm and leg, and as the numbness left, so did the yellowness. Except for maybe a slight swelling, there was no sign that anything had happened —no bruise, burn, or anything. But, that didn't mean the lightning hadn't made an impression.
To this day I am about as spooky of electricity as you can get. I work with cars, but I cannot ground out the spark plug wires as many mechanics do. Even the thought of a shock from house current unnerves me, and thunderstorms make me as nervous as a cat. I tried to do arc welding a couple of times, but I couldn't. Every time I struck an arc and the electrode sparked, I backed off right now. I just had to give it up. Perhaps, you could say I am still "yellow" when it comes to anything electrical.
The fact that I am often ill at ease in this modern world of electrical gadgets doesn't mean I'm not thankful that my episode with lightning turned out as it did. I was plenty lucky, and I learned from it. Maybe I overlearned. Anyway, you won't find me out under the trees during a thunderstorm. One yellow arm in a lifetime is enough.
THE END
Roundup and What to do
October's burning leaves and frosty mornings spark interest in hunting, fall festivals, and funOCTOBER'S GOLDEN days form a perfect setting as Nebraskans everywhere celebrate the harvest season. There's an activity for every taste from the glittering pageantry of the two-day Ak-Sar-Ben Coronation and Ball in Omaha on October 17 and 18 to the quiet drama of watching highly trained bird dogs course the covers of Branched Oak State Recreation Area for state and national championships.
Giving her canine companion some tips on competition is Miss Donna Eisner, NEBRASKAland's Hostess of the Month. Donna, the daughter of Dr. and Mrs. C. H. Eisner of Crete, knows what she is talking about, for she was a finalist in the 1969 Miss NEBRASKAland Beauty Pageant at North Platte, Miss Phi Kappa Tau Rush Queen at Nebraska Wesley an, and first runner-up for the title of 1969 Yearbook Queen. A member of Phi Kappa Tau, this 19-year-old beauty is a sophomore majoring in physical therapy. Besides her membership in her national collegiate sorority, Donna be longs to the Willard Sorority at Wesley an. Her hobbies are water skiing and sewing.
Donna's little friend is a bit young for the German Shorthair National Field Trial scheduled for October 24 through 26, but his older colleagues will be demonstrating their bird-finding abilities at Branched Oak near Raymond where the finest of the breed will vie for the national championship. National attention will be focused on the shorthairs, but owners of Brittany spaniels will be just as interested in the state trial to be held at Branched Oak on October 18 and 19. This licensed trial will determine the top Brittany in the state.
Dogs hold the spotlight this month, but there are lots of other events to attract and entertain those who don't be long to the canine set. There's plenty of exciting football on tap with high school, college, and university teams giving their best for thousands of cheering fans. Followers of the Big Red will jam Memorial Stadium in Lincoln on October 18 as the Cornhuskers bump heads with the University of Kansas in the only home game of the month for the University of Nebraska. However, Nebraska Wesleyan will pick up some of the collegiate slack with a game against Dana College at Blair on October 11. The Plainsmen will return to the friendly turf of Magee Stadium on October 19 for a homecoming contest against Missouri Valley College.
Communities without college football teams are not left out in the cold, for many high schools meet traditional rivals this month. Often, these "neigh borhood" clashes produce play tough enough to satisfy even the most blase' of fans. Big Springs is combining its home coming celebration with a football game on October 11.
Football is, of course, an outdoor sport, so it has something in common with another great outdoor activity — hunting. Riflemen with special permits will resume matching skills with the wary pronghorn of NEBRASKAland's wild reaches on October 4 and 5, while archers will be coursing the state all month for deer. But the hunting is not limited to bow or rifle. The shotgunner will be warming up on prairie grouse, rabbits, and squirrels while awaiting the turkey season which opens on October 25. This year, there are only two Units open, but a lot of Thanksgiving dinners will be bagged just the same. Waterfowl ers will probably be scanning the sky for their favorite targets, too, but the seasons have not been set at press time.
Snipe hunters belong to the waterfowl clan, but there's no uncertainty on their shooting. The season opens on October 14. Sloughs in the Sand Hills and the federal areas in south-central Nebraska are probably the best bets for this hard to-hit bird.
Football and hunting are the main topics of conversation, but October offers a lot of othefTun events, too. Practically every community in the state is holding a harvest or fall festival of some kind or another. Some mark their thankfulness for the bounty of the land with farmer rancher-businessmen banquets or community homecomings. Perhaps, the most interesting of these affairs is the Lord's Acre Festival at Endicott.
This unusual event begins at 10 a.m. on October 4 with a parade, followed by a dinner in the Methodist Church base ment. But it is the afternoon activities which make this festival unique. Everything from homemade candy to prize steers are donated for an auction with all proceeds going to the Methodist Church. This is possibly the only event of its kind in the United States.
Racing fans will have 25 days to enjoy the excitement of flashing silks and pounding hooves. The Atokad Park in South Sioux City will host the thoroughbreds beginning October 1 and continuing until November 1. The track is dark on Sundays and Mondays except for October 27. Post time is 2:30 p.m.
October's traditionally fine weather is made-to-order for outdoor activities, but there's fun to be found indoors, too. The Prairie Schooners Square Dance Club of Sidney will hold a two-day bash on October 18 and 19 at the Central School auditorium. Besides the dancing, the event will feature a callers' clinic and an evaluation of guest callers' techniques for this ritualistic but always eye-pleasing entertainment.
Anyway you look at it, October is an up-and-doing month with something for everybody, be they Omaha socialite or Nebraska City rock hound.
THE END What to do l-November 1 — Thoroughbred racing, Atokad Park, South Sioux City 4 — Harvest of harmony, Grand Island 4 —Fall festival, Doniphan 4 — Lord's Acre Festival, Endicott 4 — Snipe season opens 4-5 — Rock and gem show, Nebraska City 4-5 — Second half antelope rifle season 11-Homecoming day parade and football game, Big Springs 11 — Melody round up, Hastings 11 —Nebraska Wesleyan University vs. Dana College, football, Blair 11 — Harvest festival, Diller 12 — Fall festival, Brownville 12 —Fall harvest festivity, Cambridge 13 — Community concert, York 14 — Civil Air Patrol chuckwagon feed, Broken Bow 15-20 —Cheyenne County Cavalcade, Sidney 17 —Nebraska Wesleyan University vs. Missouri Valley College, football, homecoming, Lincoln 17-18-Ak-Sar-Ben Coronation and Ball, Omaha 18-University of Nebraska vs. University of Kansas, football, Lincoln 18-19 —Nebraska Licensed Brittany Field Trial, Branched Oak trial area, Raymond 18-19 —Square-dance festival, Sidney 19-Region 6 Marathon and Bikeathon races, Falls City 24-26-German Shorthair National Field Trial, Branched Oak trial area, Raymond 25 -Turkey season opens, designated units only 26 — Roping matches, Brady 26 — Duck and ham dinner, Bruno 26-27 —Sand painters' art show and auction, Valentine 29 —Harlan County 4-H achievement banquet, Orleans No date set — Bean days, Clarks No date set — Farmer-rancher-businessmen's banquet, Broken Bow All month — Archery deer hunting, statewide All month — Squirrel hunting, statewide All month —Rabbit hunting, statewide THE END
SPORTSMEN WITH WINGS
Nebraska's 99 licesnsed airports are keeping pace with increase in number of flying outdoorsmenFOR SOME REASON, brisk mornings seem to shiver with potential excitement anyway. Today was no exception. With his gear loaded and preflight procedures completed, the man boosted the dog onto the wing of the aircraft and followed his canine companion into the cockpit.
"Clear!"
With the warning given, the engine is turned over and the roaring propeller vanishes in the crisp air. As the pilot scans overhead, he knows what the color "sky blue" really means.
At full throttle, the plane thrusts forward. Speed comes quickly. Skimming the runway, the plane gradually pulls itself from the ground, and for a fleeting moment, power and freedom have no boundary. From canoes and horses to elephants and jeeps, hunters choose transportation that best suits their purpose. This man has done the same. Although hunters traveling to their destinations by plane are still exceptions, the number of airborne sportsmen continues to increase.
NEBRASKAland welcomes all hunters, including those with wings. And, according to Dick Joyce of Lincoln, Nebraska airport facilities and hospitality measure up to the great hunting potential in the state. Dick, an airplane commander in Doolittle's Tokyo Raiders, meets the hunting season with his gun, duffel bag, a black Labrador, and a six-passenger, twin-engine aircraft.
Spider his black Labrador, is as enthusiastic about flying as he is hunting. If the seat is available, Spider willingly accepts the position of canine copilot. Otherwise he retires to a more lowly position on the floor of the plane. Dick reports the problems of taking his dog are really very few. In referring to overnight accommodations, Dick has this to say: "Actually, very few hotels or motels in western Nebraska raise their eyebrows at seeing a dog come in."
Probably, the greatest inconvenience for high-flying hunters is the lack of transportation once they reach the airport. In spite of this handicap, though, Dick claims that he has very rarely been marooned. At many airports in the state, a courtesy car is maintained, many times by donations only. Telephones are usually close by and a call can set up transportation.
Packing is no obstacle for Dick either. All he needs is carried in one bag. The flying hunter recommends the old maxim for modern plane travelers: "Take half as much baggage and twice as much money."
Hunting and fishing have ceased to be the arts of survival they once were. They have become, instead, popular sources of sport and recreation. Opportunities to enjoy good hunting and fishing are somewhat 12 NEBRASKAland limited, however, in the more densely populated sections of the country. It is from these areas that flying sports buffs have a definite advantage. An airplane makes it possible for the hunter to spend the weekend in the field without wasting precious hours en route.
Dick noted that pilots must understand and obey a great number of regulations. 'I have found that hunters and fishermen traveling into or within the state by plane are very responsible guests, too. On the whole, they respect rules and property.
Dick Joyce, an experienced pilot and hunter him self, feels that three very important features make NEBRASKAland particularly attractive to these flying sports enthusiasts. First, the state's topography lends itself well to airports. The relatively flat ground, unbroken by mountains or rough terrain, keeps airport construction costs from becoming prohibitive. This is especially important to smaller towns and communities.
Secondly, communication aids are available across the state. Radio-navigation facilities are provided in 26 towns throughout Nebraska. These are listed in the chart on page 49.
Hospitality plus is the last and perhaps the most special of NEBRASKAland's airborne highlights. Warm greetings always await pilots from within Nebraska as well as from other states.
THE END
TURNING OVER AN OLD LEAF
Ugly weeds are transformed into things of beauty by modern hobbyists who know "magic" formula by Lowell JohnsonONCE, THE TURNING of an old, dead weed into a thing of beauty could cause even Merlin the Magician to mutter and scratch his head, but today, almost anyone can perform such a feat. All it takes is a little effort, some imagination, and a few easily obtainable materials.
There are many ways to use the scourge of the agriculturist, the weed, as well as many other plants or parts thereof. Nearly any kind of leaf, some seeds, whole plants, and even insects can be the basis for at tractive objects of art. This craft is not only fun in the doing, but in the preparing as well, for it is an excuse for field trips over hill and dale to round up the basic ingredients.
Even before they are dried, leaves and flowers can be "pressed" into service. Mrs. Esther Hemphill of Lincoln, formerly an avid craft instructor, and still much involved in her hobbies, has this suggestion for leaf prints or "instant block prints."
Take a particularly attractive leaf or a collection of different ones, and place them in a pan of cool water for cleaning and to preserve freshness. Blot dry, then paint the back side with inexpensive watercolors. The ones found in a child's paint box are fine. The paint may not adhere right away, due to a coating on the leaf, but keep brushing with a fairly wide, stiff brush until the entire back surface, including the stem, is well covered. Then, gently lay the leaf on a sheet of textured watercolor paper, cover with a paper towel, and rub with the fingers until the entire leaf has been pressed firmly to the paper. Its veins and outline will be nicely printed. Leaves can be reused many times, repainting with the same or different colors. By using different leaves and colors you can achieve a wide range of effects.
To use the leaf prints as place mats, decorate mainly the edges of the paper, then cover with plastic laminate, which is available in rolls for about 10 cents per running foot. These prints can also be matte framed for hanging on the wall.
Dried specimens from nature are even more versatile than fresh, and they can be collected after wither ing naturally in the field, or they can be dried at home. Nearly any vacant lot or field will furnish a rich supply of raw (or sunbaked) material in the form of tall grasses, flowers, butterflies, leaves, seeds, pods, or whatever else suits. If your proposed masterpiece calls for flattened in gredients, merely press your green loot between cardboard or blotters 14 NEBRASKAland with a flat weight on top. Large-size blotters can be obtained from photo supply stores. Paper towels also do a good job.
To dry items but not squash them, pop them into a container of silica, the stuff used to prevent rust on guns and cameras during shipment. This silica will draw out all the moisture from a flower in a few hours without mashing it and will leave all the color. It lasts almost forever. When it becomes saturated, it can be heated to renew its power. Silica crystals are sold at hobby stores under various trade names.
The traditional method of pressing flowers between the pages of a book also works, but it is hard on the book and takes considerably longer than either the blotters or silica.
Once a sufficient quantity of dried materials is on hand, the question arises, what to make? Dried weeds, sometimes painted, have long been popular as centerpieces. They are either placed in a vase or attached to driftwood or other weathered bases. Other possibilities include wall plaques using either flattened or full-dimension material, embedding the fully dried plants or butter flies in paper or plastic, decorating wood boxes or picture frames with flattened leaves preserved under layers of varnish by a process called decoupage, or simply arranging them under glass for desk or table tops.
Sandwiching dried leaves between layers of thin paper, such as translucent rice paper, allows a hobbyist to create striking effects. When back lighted in a lamp shade, room divider, folding screen, or illuminated frame, these become one-of-a-kind showpieces. Common wax paper can also be used to sandwich dried articles. A hot iron will seal the two layers together to protect the display materials from deterioration.
A grouping of leafy and pod-decorated dried plants will draw much praise when simply mounted in a rustic frame on plain or textured background paper or cloth and held down unobtrusively with wire or glue. A little experimenting can produce very pleasing conversation pieces.
More ambitious projects can be made by using plastics or resin. While not recommended for the casual hobbyist, these media can be used to produce an almost limitless variety of projects. Many people are familiar with plastic grapes, which are still very popular. The same casting techniques used to produce grapes will work for beautiful, even spectacular lamps, tabletops, divid ers, panels, and smaller articles of colored and textured plastics. This process lends itself very well to embedding dried foliage or butterflies. With such projects, it is best to make them opaque by including light cloth, paper, or shredded fiberglass with the embedments of leaves or stalks.
Generally, the larger the leaf the more character it has. Oak leaves are good, as are castor bean, cucumber, sumac, tomato, many ferns, and a wide selection of wild and domestic plants and trees. Foxtail, smartweed, pampas grass, even crabgrass are extremely attractive when taken from their natural environment and placed in paper or plastic.
Similar in some respects to the resins are plastic crystals, which often can be used in conjunction with items from nature. Again, hobby shops have more detailed information, materials, and a display of finished projects for inspiration. Often, seeing the displays will bring new ideas to mind for the hobbyist, so the more exposure to other people's handiwork, the better.
Painting or staining dried stalks and seeds, then using them in mosaics, is another possibility. Then, there is the previously mentioned decoupage, which consists of gradually covering flattened specimens or pictures under numerous layers of varnish until they take on dimension and depth, seeming to become part of the background itself. But, that is another project entirely, and detailed information and step-by-step instructions on it will be presented in the November NEBRASKAland.
THE END
FOLLOW THE WHITE LINE
A trucker's world is lonely, often savage, but always beautiful. For 20 hours I share this strangely different life with four men by Bob SnowTHE LAST FEW drops of a heavy rain spattered the windshield of the diesel as Jesse Britton wheeled the truck onto U.S. Highway 20 in Chadron, Nebraska. As the pug-faced overcab rumbled through the sleeping town, the headlights fell on a long, white line on the rain-washed pavement. For Jesse that ribbon of white is an umbilical of prosperity for his family, the towns it passes through, the state, and even the nation. The husky, 5-foot, 10-inch man is a truck driver and his world on wheels is lonely, sometimes savage, but always beautiful.
For the next 20 hours, I would share that world with 4 men. I am the senior associate editor for NEBRASKAland Magazine and to me that painted white line between the Ross Transfer, Inc., headquarters in Chadron and their dock in Omaha, 440 miles away, represented a story. After clearing it with his insurance company, manager Bob Ross agreed to let me ride along. But when I climbed out of the sack at 4:30 on the morning of my trek, I wasn't very enthusiastic. Sleepily, I wandered into a cafe where I met Jesse, my first-shift driver, and Dean Trowbridge, driver supervisor and dispatcher for Ross Transfer.
It was barely light when Jesse backed the huge, 12-foot-high tractor to trailer No. 145. But before the 18-year veteran of the road pulled onto the highway, he went over an airplane-like checklist that included testing the lights, brakes, each of the 18 tires, and reading the pressure and temperature gauges. The check finished, Jesse opened a metal box to the right of the steering wheel and inserted a round graph. This combination clock and tachometer is a tachograph and after a completed run the mechanical recorder tells Dean when the truck was started, how long it idled, the speed, the distance between stops, and the length of the stops.
16 NEBRASKAland
"I'm going into Gordon this morning," Dean said, climbing into the cab. "Usually, I have to stick pretty close to the office for trouble calls from truckers on the road."
Now it was my turn to climb into the cab. Putting my foot on the hub of the front wheel that was directly below the door, I reached for handholds on the cab and on the door ancj shakily pulled myself into the tractor. As I scanned the cab, I found that bucket seats, air conditioning, plenty of legroom, and a comfortable looking bed behind the seats made it luxury on wheels. But what surprised me even more were all the gauges, buttons, and dials that made the cab look like the cockpit of an airplane.
As we rolled east on Highway 20, Dean settled back into the bed and Jesse and I were left alone in the big, wide tractor cab. The powerful diesel engine was underneath a rectangular, leather-padded hump, rising from the floor between our seats. Jesse is the type who is liberal with smiles but short on words, so I was surprised when he started the conversation.
"About three weeks ago, I was one of the first persons to come upon a bad accident eight miles out of Chadron. In fact, it was right about here," he said, pointing to an alfalfa pasture next to the road. "The car must have swerved off the highway and there was one body in that field. A couple of other fellows stopped about the same time and they called for help."
This prompted me to ask if he thought most people were safe highway drivers.
"I would say so, but even cautious drivers can mean trouble. Teen-agers are probably the best drivers, because their reaction times are faster and they are not afraid to pass a truck."
A couple of miles out of Hay Springs low, puffy clouds, backlighted by the sun, made the distant hills look like snow-capped mountains.
"Mirages are common here on warm, clear days," the driver informed me. "The first time I spotted a mirage, I saw a big range of 'hills' in the distance. I knew this country well enough to know there weren't any hills like that around, so I watched them and eventually they disappeared. A lot of people have probably seen those same hills, thinking they were a part of the Nebraska scenery."
Dean switched the conversation with, "Did you know that almost everything we eat wear, or even think about buying has been shipped somewhere along the line by a truck? In fact, Nebraska's trucking industry serves every city, town, and village in the state."
All too soon, we were rolling up to the Ross docks in Gordon for a scheduled turn-around, where two 18 NEBRASKAland drivers switch trucks. Andy Koralewski had left Valen tine at 4 a.m. with a rag top, a high-side trailer with a canvas over the top. Jesse would drive that truck back to Chadron, while Andy would drive back to Valentine.
After loading some irrigation equipment, the over cab pulled out shortly before seven. At Valentine, 91 miles away, drivers would change again, but for now Andy and I would follow the long white line. There were 10 forward gears in this truck and Andy shifted through each one of them to reach highway speed. I tried to compute the number of gear changes between Chadron and Omaha, but I gave up when the figure soared into the high hundreds. The amount of shifting depends on the number of hills, downgrades, towns, stops, and traffic. One thing was apparent, however. It takes a strong right arm and a stronger left foot to be a truck driver.
As we headed into the Sand Hills, Andy and I reserved our talking for downhill grades and flat stretch es where the noisy exhaust pipes, running high up the side of the cab, and the engine beneath us, were relatively quiet. Even then I had to lean over and yell.
"Been driving long?"
"About 27 years and all for Ross."
"Native of Nebraska?"
"Lived in Valentine area all of my life."
As the truck headed up a long hill, my question ing ceased. Although economically the Sand Hills means cattle, its major asset for travelers is the vast, awesome scenery. The recent rain had turned the hot, brown grass of a dry summer into a soft green. From my telephone-pole-high perspective in the cab, I could see over the small banks and pick out the yellow, blue, and white wild flowers discreetly nestled in small ravines or in the high grass.
"Do you ever get tired of driving the same piece of road?" I asked.
"Sometimes, but I like to hunt, so I keep my eyes open for game," he answered. "A few miles back we passed some grouse. Yesterday, I saw a doe antelope with her young, and a week ago, I stopped to let a mother teal lead her brood across the highway."
Then he switched thoughts. "There's a delivery in Cody. Why don't you check to see what else we have in the trailer?"
Picking up a black leather bag, I pulled out several bills of lading. Ross Transfer doesn't have a dock between Gordon and Valentine, so all deliveries are made door-to-door by the over-the-road driver. Quickly, I thumbed through the shipping bills: a carton of suit cases, stationery, and some groceries for Valentine, a blade hoe for Marshalltown, Iowa, auto parts for Minneapolis, Tennessee, 14 cartons of fireworks for Sioux Falls, South Dakota, a box for a department store in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, irrigation equipment for Texas, and 42,560 (Continued on page 48)
the day we killed 102 Mallards
by Carl M. Neilsen It happened 45 years ago when live decoys were legal and limits were larger. That afternoon was a hunter's dreamMY MOST MEMORABLE duck hunt occurred 45 years ago this fall, yet the details are as vivid as though it happened yesterday. It all began on the evening of October 31, 1924, when my brother, Pete, called.
"Do you want to go duck hunting tomorrow at DeSoto Bend?"
Did I ever! I was just finishing up my day's work on the Elmer Andreasen farm northwest of Kennard when the call came, and the prospect of gunning ducks on the Missouri River was a mighty attractive break from the hard routine of farming. Things on the farm were in pretty good shape, so I could spare a day.
Pete and his hunting buddy, Fred Masters, had a tent set up on the river bank, so he told me to gather up the gear and meet him there that night. Fred wasn't going to hunt, but my other brother, Axel, was going. We planned to spend the night in the tent and row out to our blind on a bar in the river before first light.
Pete and Fred had 30 live decoys (they were legal then) which they carried in 2 crates and it was my job to gather them up as well as all the other gear before rendezvousing with my brother. It was pretty late before we got to sleep that night, but we were up long before dawn and ready to row out to the blind.
We had a boat with double oarlocks and it didn't take us long to skim over the river, still Pete and Axel had time to tease me.
"How did you sleep last night, Ax?" Pete inquired.
"Poorly, the fleas kept bothering me."
Fleas?"
"Yep, that darn brother of ours must be covered with them."
Apparently, I had picked up some fleas someplace and during the night they had crawled off me and latched onto my brothers.
The biggest flock of teal you ever saw swirled up around the bar as we approached. They were too good to resist, so we tried a "running" shot from the boat and knocked down four or five. Whatever happened the rest of the day, we wouldn't be going home empty-handed.
After recovering the birds, we docked and started setting out the decoys. They had to be staked out, one by one, in just the right position to take advantage of the wind direction. Our decoys were half-wild mallards and they could talk up a storm when they were a mind to.
With everything set, we settled into the blind and waited for action. The sun was just peeking over the horizon when (Continued on page 50)
Autumn along the Platte
Nature turns arsonist as her chilly hand touchest Nebraska. A cool fire of color runs rampant in the river valleys Photography by Lou Ell, Text by Fred NelsonWHEN MORE THAN 400 miles of colorful landscaPe meet 90 days of colorful season, the result is visual enchantment beyond compare. Such is the case when autumn comes to the Platte Valley, that broad and lengthy riverway that runs through the midsection of NEBRASKAland from Henry on the west to Plattsmouth on the east.
Autumn comes to the valley with the unhurried confidence of a master artist approaching an unmarked canvas. There is time, there is room, there is experience, and the third season knows how to use them all as it transforms a landscape, already striking with the hues of summer, into a fascination of scarlets, golds, russets, blues, and purples. It is not a work to be undertaken lightly or in haste, for everything from stateliest Cottonwood to frailest reed must know the master's touch.
And so autumn comes to the Platte Valley in midSeptember
from the north and the west, prepared to make
OCTOBER 1969
23
dramatic changes in the weeks to come, changes
that will thrill everyone who follows the season's
day-to-day progress across the state. Once here,
autumn seems to hesitate as though studying the
magnitude of the task before it, but the discerning
eye can readily see that fall has come. There's a
subtle change in the greenery along the river.
Summer's solid verdancy softens and fades as if
the new season is masking it with a neutral shade,
a non-color that dulls the old, yet accents the new
brilliancies to come. This early preparation is hard
to recognize at close look, but in the panoramic
it is quite evident.
Scotts Bluff is an excellent vantage for watch ing this autumn change inch its way along the valley. This massive promontory, rising 800 feet above the valley floor, offers a miles-long vista of river, hill, and plain.
After the momentary pause, the season turns the valley into a magnificence of color with astonishing speed. Today, a Cottonwood is clothed in summer green, tomorrow, it is a torch of yellow 24 NEBRASKAland flame. Today, the lowly sumac stands unnoticed on the slope, tomorrow, it burns with ruby fire.
These startling transformations, so pleasing to the eye, are visible to all, for the Platte Valley is one of the most accessible areas in all of NEBRASKAland. The lover of autumn and its artistry can follow its progress from U.S. Highways 26 and 30 and Interstate 80 by car, but he will see only the obvious. This in itself is impressive, but it does not compare with on-foot observation for a true appreciation of the season. The walker has the time and the opportunity to see the delicate shadings, the blends, the contrasts, the almost unbelievable mixtures that make fall so appealing to the eye. Fortunately, there are many spots where on-foot observations can be made. The three described here are chosen for their diversity and overall charm, but there are others equally attractive.
Ash Hollow, a Nebraska State Historical Park, located a few miles east of Lewellen on U.S. High way 26, is one of the best for observing autumn's versatility with both the vast and the minute. From atop the hills, the visitor can trace the Platte's distant course by the yellowing willows, or switch his perspective to the immediate and look for the scarlet nuggets of wild-rose hips in the browning grasses at his feet.
Plant life is, of course, the most sensitive to the artistry of autumn, but all of nature's own is influenced in one way or another. The sedate Platte, normally Quaker gray in appearance and proper in behavior, dons the riotous colors of its surroundings and claims them as its own. Public areas along Interstate 80 are practically made-to-order for those who appreciate the often-overlooked beauty of reflected images.
To the hunter and the bird lover, autumn on the Platte means but one thing —waterfowl — waterfowl by uncounted thousands. Although the fall-tinted river attracts ducks and geese all along its length, few concentrations are equal to those seen at the Plattsmouth Waterfowl Management Area in extreme eastern Nebraska. Here, where the Platte and the Missouri wed, every migrant from tiny green-winged teal to majestic Canada geese wheel and mill against the fall sky, thrilling all who love these age-old symbols of the season.
The calendar gives autumn 90 days each year to display its skill. It wastes not one.
THE END OCTOBER 1969 31
ISLANDS OF THE WILD
Cost is low, stakes are high. Program looks into future and depends on youth by Wilbur Dasenbrock and Clarence NewtonAN AGE-OLD NATURALIST tells us to rrBe fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth and subdue it; ^ and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the air and over every living thing that moves upon the earth" (Genesis 1:28). Man as commander in charge has the authority and the knowledge to use and enjoy the products of this earth, but with this authority, man is also responsible for their wise use. Too often, he has shirked this responsibility and left chaos and devastation in his wake. Now, however, he is becoming more aware of his stewardship and is developing an outdoor conscience, a conscience that recognizes the value of our remaining natural areas. All of us are beginning to accept the fact that we must live in harmony with nature, for continued exploitation can only lead to extinction of both resource and man.
Fortunately, Nebraska is still blessed with "islands" of unspoiled nature; wild communities that are remnants of the old landscape before man arrived to blight much of it with his presence. The Nebraska 32 NEBRASKAland
Benefits of this program are manyfold. Among them are the preservation of Nebraska's native flora and fauna amid natural surroundings. Of the more than 1,700 varieties of plant life in the state only 20 are considered noxious. Obviously, we should not destroy all of the good in our zeal to exterminate the bad, yet this is often the case with the indiscriminate use of herbicides or the complete destruction of habitat with plow or bulldozer.
The same is true of wildlife. Nebraska has more than 200 species and subspecies of mammals, ranging from the tiny shrew to the majestic mule deer. Their continued existence depends upon suitable habitat. To deny them life for no other reason than to have a "clean" farm or a trim-looking ranch may serve only to destroy our remaining wild communities. This preservation and development of natural islands is far more than just a benefit to our wild cousins. Man, too, is the gainer, for the lives of all who find pleasure in the out doors are enriched by the presence of wildlife in all its many forms.
What are some of these natural areas that lend themselves to preservation? They can be a tract of river forest, a wooded stream, a roadside clump of wild plum or sumac, a vegetation-filled gulley, or a steep, hard-to cultivate hillside. Other areas, although not "natural" in the truest sense, include farmstead windbreaks, hedgerows, or even a corner of shrubbery in a city yard.
Since young people respond readily to personal involvement, the acres-for-wildlife program, established by Game Commissioner Dr. Bruce E. Cowgill of Silver Creek, is oriented toward the young and their "can-do" philosophy.
Under the program, young people help farmers and ranchers protect the small plots of wildlife habitat existing on their properties. Basically a preservation effort, established to save what cover we have, the program operates at small cost to anyone. However, simple improvements are sometimes advisable for increasing the variety and effectiveness of the existing environments. For example, these supplemental efforts may include minimal tree planting, brush-pile construction, or the seeding of grasses and legumes. Some sites may benefit from the planting of food plots.
Preservation is the key, however, and the basic agreement is that the cover not be mowed, burned, or grazed. However, other factors are considered. For example, spraying is an effective method of weed control; sometimes too effective. In some cases, spraying for noxious weeds also kills legumes and forbes that provide good cover. A boy or girl can chop out the undesirable weeds by hand and thus save the desirable plants that provide food and shelter for wildlife.
Unlimited opportunities for this type of effort exist on a year-round basis. Various youth organizations place a strong emphasis on conservation activities, and NEBRASKAland Acres For Wildlife is suited for their participation. For the 4-H club or member, the NAFW activity can supplement a conservation project, or it can add the spice of variety to a tractor safety project. Some requirements for Boy-Scout conservation merit badges can be met through NAFW, while schoolteachers find that NAFW lets students become acquainted with the needs of wildlife and helps to supplement their textbook and classroom studies. However, the projects are not limited to group participation, for (Continued on page 56)
A Close Look At Buffalo Bill's Showplace
True value of this old mansion is lost in quick glances and hurried steps. Its beauty is subtle, almost hidden Photographs and Text by Mike KnepperTHINGS WERE GOING well for Bill Cody in the summer of 1886. His show, "Buffalo Bill's Wild West", was in the middle of a very successful tour of the eastern states. Money was, for a change, plentiful, so it was time for Bill to make a dream come true. He ordered construction of the mansion at his ranch at North Platte. The house was completed in October of that year and "Scouts Rest" became his home and haven through the many financial, physical, and domestic ups and downs that beset Buffalo Bill during the remainder of his life.
The mansion, barn, outbuildings, and a few of the 4,000 acres that were the ranch in 1886 ere now the state-owned Buffalo Bill Ranch State Historical Park. Each year, thousands of guests walk the halls and visit the 19 rooms of the house that contain many of the original furnishings and all the memories, boistrous and soft, strong and weak, beautiful and harsh, that the great scout and showman left behind.
For most visitors, the journey into Buffalo Bill's private life is a hurried affair, with the past a brief interlude on a busy vacation schedule, and although still rewarding, it is at best.superficial. The real rewards await visitors who take time to appreciate the subtle, hidden beauty of the old house, beauty that is all around but easily lost to the quick glance and the hurried step. It is the beauty of the past, of a more slowly paced way of life that is gone, but fortunately, not completely forgotten.
Gunstock eave supports and wallpaper are more than just
memories of past They tell boistrous but beautiful story
So, slow down as you step into the past at Scouts Rest. Take a close look at the things around you, for the old place will reveal all its hidden beauties to those who know where and how to look. Notice the scrollwork on the backboard of the old upright piano in the parlor, the pattern in the metal plate behind the doorknob, the delicate, satiny pleats and buttons of the upholstered furniture, the shimmering lace curtains that catch, hold, then gently let pass the rays of the morning sun.
The rooms exude a tangible feeling of the past as well as a dark golden hue that is a combination of old furniture and the subdued colors of curtains, wallpaper, and rugs. Time has left a color, but it's not a faded, sun-bleached, or dust-covered color. Instead it's the glow of age.
Stained glass hasn't always been only for churches. See the design in the windows above the door and at the end of the hallway? You won't find that in a split-level ranch style, and maybe for good reason. But it belongs in this old house, and it's beautiful.
Time has left a certain color in the house's 19 rooms but it
is not faded. Instead, it is the warm glow of the Old West
TV antennas have replaced lightning rods, but in I 886, lightning on the prairie was something to be reckoned with. So Cody incorporated lightning rods into the design of his house. They're perhaps more inter esting than attractive.
Buffalo Bill wanted a fine home built to his specifications and he contracted to pay $3,500 for what he wanted. Porches, 10 feet wide instead of the usual 6, an indoor bathroom, a special sideboard in his bedroom that would contain the necessary "condiments" for refreshing his guests, wallpaper of his own design—a I these things and more were "musts" for the mansion at Scouts Rest. But more than these luxuries, the house contained, and still contains, the everyday items of Cody's time. And these Qre to be enjoyed piece by piece, part by part.
Time slows in the old mansion if you let it, and if you do, you'll find yourself discovering the hidden, subtle beauty that stands apart, almost hidden, in this stronghold of the West.
THE END
A CASE FOR PREJUDICE
by Mike Knepper "Once you try flies you'll never go back to fishing with live bait" 40 NEBRASKAlandCLEAR, COOL WATER bubbled and rushed over and around the smooth rocks to leave their wet sides sparkling in the summer sun as the single strand of light-green line whispered through the air in a graceful S-curve. Changing direction, the line rapidly straightened out until the winged "insect", tethered to a nearly invisible gossamer-thin leader at the front of the line, settled on a still eddy surrounded by the surging stream. True as life, "fly" moved off, following the unseen will of the water.
That was the scene as I watched Dana Cole of Lincoln at his favorite sport, dry-fly fishing for trout. My first look verified what I had read and heard before, that fly fishing is probably the most refined, delicate, beautiful, and difficult-to-master form of fishing there is. The chance to study the dry-fly technique actually began last summer when Francis Hanna of Thedford, a member of the Nebraska Game and Parks Commission, and I were discussing the many aspects of Nebraska's angling.
"I know just the man to show you fly fishing at its best," the commissioner said. "Dana Cole lives in Lincoln and the next time I hear he's planning a fish ing trip into trout country, I'll let you know."
As the outstate representative for the Information and Tourism Division of the Game Commission stationed in North Platte, I sensed a story, so when Francis called a few weeks later and said Dana would be out to fish the Snake River, south of Valentine, I was ready. A call to Lincoln firmed up plans for the following weekend. We met in North Platte.
"I've been trout fishing since I was 7," Dana told me as we headed north, "so that gives me 68 years of experience."
"I started with worms, moved up to minnows, then on to spinners, and then to flies. It's a process of graduation. Once you try flies you'll never use live bait."
The miles flew by as Dana told of his long career as an accounting instructor at the University of Nebraska, his retirement from that job 10 years ago, and his accounting firm in Lincoln that now receives his full-time attention when he's not hunting or fishing.
At five that evening we rolled to a stop at Les Rime's Ranch, 23 miles southwest of Valentine. Les owns Snake Falls and the stretch of river that Dana wanted to fish. The Rimes have a small drive-in restaurant and some cabin facilities for sportsmen and tourists, who pay $1.50 a day property admission. Les's son, Jim, came out to greet us.
Dana's first question was, "How's the fishing?"
"It's been real good the past few days," the young man answered. "You ought to have some luck. What are you going to use? Worms?"
"Hardly," Dana laughed, producing several boxes of dry flies. He slipped into chest waders, fishing vest, and long-billed cap while I explained the purpose of our visit.
"Dana is a fly fisherman in the true tradition and I'm here to learn about and report on the fine art."
"Not very long for a fly rod," Jim commented as the Lincolnite withdrew a two-section fly rod from a metal case and slipped it together after greasing the ferrule along his nose.
"It isn't as long as most fly rods," Dana admitted. "Many are 8 to 8V2 feet, but I prefer a 7-foot rod. It's easier to handle, lighter, and doesn't wear you out during a long day's fishing. It's split bamboo and weighs four ounces. I prefer bamboo over glass."
Jim suggested we drop into the canyon behind the cabins and fish upriver to the falls, about a half mile away. Breathtaking was (Continued on page 52)
PAPER TERRITORY
Mother of states, "Nebraska" once took in parts of nine states. In 13 years, it was cut to present size by Faye MusilONCE, WHEN the West was young, and untried, "Nebraska" encompassed a huge area. The unofficial boundaries stretched from the old Missouri Compromise line of 36° 30' latitude to the Canadian border and from the western borders of the already established eastern states of Iowa and Missouri to the Continental Divide. Bills to organize this huge area were introduced into Congress as early as 1846, but the time was not ripe. In time, this was to become the mother of states; then, it was a vast wilderness sometimes referred to as Nebraska for lack of a better term. Nine states, Nebraska, New Mexico, Kansas, Colorado, Oklahoma, Wyoming, Montana, and the two Dakotas took all or part of their acreage from this vast area.
In the beginning, the territory loosely referred to as Nebraska included every major topographical feature but an ocean. There were mountains, plains, rivers, forests, and hills as well as many lakes. Over a period of 13 years, Nebraska was cut down nearly to its present size of 77,227 square miles. The area designated as Nebraska was at first unorganized, unsurveyed, and ungoverned except by the law of the wild. It was a raucous land, full of greed and speculation where promoters were out to make their fortunes in a hurry.
The great overland route to the gold mines in the Rocky Mountains and the prosperity of the Pacific Coast cut through what was to be come NEBRASKAland. The route was thought to be vital to the future growth of the country, for American expansionists had designs on the Oregon Territory, then jointly held
OCTOBER 1969 43
by the Americans and British. They had the idea that Oregon should be an obvious exitension of territories already held. But then were other interests, too. Northerners wanted a northern route for the projected Pacific railroad, for it was an era when the coming of railroads meant wealth to the western railheads. Southern politicians, however, were vying for the ripening plum, too, and wanted the tracks through their section of the country.
With North and South already at each other's throats on the railroad question, slavery added fuel to the blaze. The South was disturbed at expanding free territory. According to the Missouri Compromise, latitude 36° 30' was to be the dividing line between free and slave territories. If this prevailed, Nebraska would all be free, and the South knew that a number of states could be made from the large territory. Each of those would, in time, send congressmen to the federal halls and the South would eventually be politically overpowered.
A compromise chopped the first slice out of the original territory, which until then was without local government. Two territorial governments, Kansas and Nebraska, were to be created from the one. The dividing line was the 40th parallel and popular sovereignty was to decide the slavery question in both.
Now, the South raised another objection. The Indians still held legal title to the land. The white man was to stay out. But the red men ceded their lands in the region to the United States, and with that objection out of the way the Kansas-Nebraska Act was passed on May 30, 1854. The 353,371 square miles of territory had not yet been surveyed, and it was still not completely done, 5 years later, when miners attempted to gouge a second major chunk, Colorado, out of it.
In 1859, Pikes Peak gold miners, agitating for self government, complained that the Nebraska territorial capital was too far removed to judge Pikes Peak problems. A separate "territory", Jefferson Territory, was set up by the miners. But Congress refused recognition. It wasn't until 1861 that Congress officially created the Colorado Territory. Colorado was made rectangular, cutting a 16,035-square-mile chunk from Nebraska and forming the panhandle which then reached to the Continental Divide. Also in 1861, when Nebraska's leaders began agitating for statehood, the territory was further broken up. This (Continued on page 54)
NOTES ON NEBRASKA FAUNA. . . PRAIRIE CHICKEN
by Ken Robertson District Game Supervisor Farming, not hunting, endangers this bird. As long as there is native grass, state will hear his boomAS HIS name implies, the prairie chicken, Tympanuchus americanus americanus, is a ^chicken-like bird of the open grasslands. In appearance, this prairie dweller is basically brown with white crossbarring over most of the body. His tail is short and rounded with a whitish tip and underpart. The overall size is about that of a hen pheasant.
Males have fleshy, orange-color eyebrows. Tufts of elongated, erectile, blackish feathers or "pinnae" are on the sides of the neck. Beneath each pinnae is a loose sac of bare, yellow-orange skin. These are the air sacs or tympani. Females look similar to males except for shorter pinnae, very small air sacs, and the lacking of orange on air sacs and eyebrows.
Prairie chickens once roamed all the prairie lands east of the Rocky Mountains, but today their occupied range is only a small remnant of the original. Their major range now is in Nebraska, South Dakota, and Kansas. They are present in limited numbers in other states and some Canadian provinces.
While hunting may have been a factor in reducing prairie chickens in some areas, the major factor in their decline was the plowing up of the tall-grass prairies and converting them to intensive farming. Chickens need at least a third of their habitat in native grasses and thrive best where about two thirds of the area is grassland. Limited farming adjacent to grasslands is actually beneficial to the birds by providing food sources close to preferred cover. In Nebraska, the highest populations occur along the eastern and southern edges of the Sand Hills, where grassland meets cropland.
The courtship of the prairie chicken is one of the most unique in the wild world. Cocks converge on a "booming" ground which is an open area of short vegetation and often is located on a slight rise or knoll. They start using the areas in late winter but the activity reaches a peak in late March and early April when the hens are frequenting the grounds. Much of the cocks' early activity is determining each bird's specific territory on the booming ground. Since most of the mating occurs in the central portion this area is the most hotly contested.
The courtship performance is an individual act, although several birds may be displaying at the same time. The act begins with the male taking several quick running steps then rapidly stomping on the ground in one spot. At this time the pinnae are erected and the air sacs are filled with air. The eyebrows also become greatly distended. The tail is spread fanwise in an upright position and the wings are held down to ward the ground. The bird then makes his famous booming sound. The boom is a three-note call similar to the sound made by blowing across the open neck of a bottle. The entire performance takes place in a period of a few seconds. The act has a twofold purpose —to attract the hen and to scare an invading male.
Nesting activity starts in early to mid-April. The nest site is in grass cover with pastures, hay meadows, and even marsh edges utilized. The average clutch is 11 to 12 eggs which are laid at a rate of 1 per day. The eggs are olive to tan with spots of brownish red. Incubation takes 23 to 24 days.
During incubation the hen leaves the nest for short feeding periods in the morning and again toward evening. When she leaves, she covers the nest with vegetation. In the early stages of incubation the hen will readily flush from the nest, but in the later stages she will sit tight even in the face of danger. Young prairie chickens are precocial and as soon as the young are dried off and the weather is suitable the hen leads them from the nest.
The very young birds feed primarily on insects for the first few weeks. Gradually the diet includes weed and grass seeds, clover, and fleshy summer fruits. The water taken by chicks is generally from dew on the grass and then as they grow older from succulent greens. They are not dependent on watering areas.
During the summer the adult cocks stay by themselves and the broods generally remain separate entities. But as the nights begin to get cooler and fall approaches prairie chickens begin to gather in flocks of 20 to 30 birds. These flocks are composed of both males and females and also young and old. As winter approaches the flocks get larger and may contain 50 to 100 or more birds. In cold weather the flock's movements are generally limited to two trips a day from roosting areas to feeding areas in grain or cornfields. The birds' wintering grounds are sometimes a long distance from their summer and fall haunts.
Farming, not hunting, is the key to the prairie chicken's future in Nebraska. As long as native grass lands are not turned into corn or milo fields, this state will always know the boom of this interesting member of NEBRASKAland's outdoor family.
THE END
FOLLOW THE WHITE LINE
(Continued from page 19)pounds of wheat for a mill in Omaha. After dropping off the freight at a Cody store, we sipped coffee in a nearby cafe.
"See this," he said, pulling out a key ring. "When I first started we dropped freight outside of stores. But today you can't trust everybody, so I have keys to 90 percent of the businesses on this route. They trust me, and that makes a guy feel good."
When we got back into the truck, Andy was still full of talk and I was content to listen. "Summer driving is easy, but in the winter a truck driver earns his money. Back in 1961 or '62 I spent 24 hours stranded in my truck during a blizzard. I kept warm by periodically starting the tractor, warming up the cab, and then shuting off the engine to conserve fuel."
Time and miles rolled quietly underneath the wheels of the big truck and before long we were at the Valentine dock. Andy introduced me to Harry Green, the driver who would take me into Omaha. Harry hardly fits the typical description of a truck driver. He isn't burly or barrel-chested and he has to stretch to make 5 feet, 8 inches. After our handshake, the driver sounded the tires.
"We thump the tires about every 100 miles with a hammer, because if one is low the others support its share of the load and you can't tell it's low just by looking," he volunteered. "A plump thump says they are up, and a dull sound tells us we are in trouble."
Harry, like the other two drivers, takes pride in his truck, the company, and the fact that in 29 years of driving, at an average of 55,000 miles a year, he has yet to get a ticket. But safety is the prime objective of the trucking industry. A driver must meet certain physical requirements, keep a daily log of his activities while on the road, and cannot drive more than 10 hours a day.
Ross Transfer prefers older and more experienced men to handle their 7 tractors and 13 trailers. Our overcab sleeper cost $22,000, the trailer, $6,000, and we were hauling several thousand dollars worth of goods. Besides that, each of the 18 tires costs about $125. The truck carries 160 gallons of fuel and averages about 6 miles to the gallon.
As we crossed the Niobrara River near Valentine, Harry waved to a trucker heading west. In most cases, truckers don't have anyone to talk to, so a friend ly wave is as good as a spoken sentence. At night they talk with their lights. One blink is a hello, while two or more flashes means there is an accident or some other obstruction ahead.
"We are highway professionals," Harry said as he stared down the road. "Sure, we stop to help other truckers, and in some cases we will help a stranded motorist. If others would develop our attitude, the highways would be safer and much more enjoyable to travel.
Trucking gets in your blood, but I have had some experiences that have made me wonder why I was a driver, 48 NEBRASKAland Harry continued. "Once I stopped to help another trucker and after I put out my warning flares, I went up to see what I could do. A few minutes later, a woman ran her car into the back of my truck and was killed. I still can't figure out how the accident happened, but it did." Then he was back to the present. "By the way, are you hungry?"
I nodded, so Harry braked to a stop at a truckers' cafe in O'Neill. After a man has traveled the same road a few times, he knows where he can get the best food and service for the least amount of money. A waitress had water on the table before we had taken our seats, the coffee was close behind, and in a matter of minutes we had a hot meal. The way Harry talked, you would have thought he was a life resident of the town. He nodded a hello to the local ranchers, chatted with the town folk, and by the time he left he was up on the area's gossip.
"People are friendly out in this country," Harry grunted, climbing into the cab. "They take the time to talk to you and that's worth a lot to a trucker."
As we rode out of O'Neill, a vibrating "thump, thump" just below my feet made Harry slow down to listen. A mile later, the thump was louder and I half expected to see a piece of the engine flying up between my feet. We cut off of High way 20 onto 275 and stopped at a truck scale.
"We'll check the trouble here. I hope that wheat is evenly distributed or we will have to shovel to even the load, plus nurse a sick horse," he informed me.
The 42,560 pounds of wheat were O.K., but the truck wasn't. An alternator belt had snapped but it didn't mean trouble yet. The alternator helps generate electricity for the tractor and trailer lights but as long as it was daylight we didn't have to worry. Harry placed a collect call to Dean from the scale office and told him the situation. Dean gave us an O.K. to drive into Omaha, if we could make it before dark. The dispatcher promised to call an Omaha truck garage and tell them to keep a mechanic on duty until we got in.
As the truck closed in on Norfolk, the Sand Hills gave way to the lush, green croplands of northeastern Nebraska. Even though the bed behind us looked softer than the puffy thunderheads over head, I didn't want to sleep. There was too much to see.
In 29 years of driving between Valentine and Omaha Harry has watched the life history of people slip by his window. He knows these men and women, not by names, but by faces and places. He has smiled at their prosperity, sorrowed at their sun-withered crops, and shared their joy of a newly-constructed community church. He has watched young, anxious couples build new homes along the highway and seen their offspring growing up. He has sadly stood by while these same children go off to college, in many cases never to return.
Harry has seen the Niobrara and Elk horn rivers in the bleakness of winter, the freshness of spring, the hot brown of summer, and the contrasting reds and yellows of fall. But in the midst of beauty he has found death-gruesome car wrecks, and road-killed deer, pheasants, grouse, and raccoon. For him the past is the white line in the rear-view mirror, the future, the road ahead.
NEBRASKAland AIRPORTS Airport Storage Runway Surface Fuel Meals Transportation Remarks GOTHENBURG 122.8 (Unicom) Hangar and tiedown Turf .............................. 80, 100 oct. 5 blocks Airport car Excellent hunting and fishing at Jeffery Lake and the Platte River GRAND ISLAND (Municipal) 112.0* Hangar and tiedown 2 concrete and 1 asphalt 80, 100, 115 oct. and JP-1 Restaurant Courtesy car and taxi GRAND ISLAND (Roush Airport) None Hangar and tiedown Turf 80 oct. Yes None Golf course across from field. Swimming, fishing and boating available GRANT None Hangar and tiedown Turf 80, 100 oct. None None HARRISON None None Turf None None None HARTINGTON None Hangar and tiedown Turf None None None HARVARD None Hangar and tiedown Concrete 80 oct. ;;■:: ;: None None HASTINGS 122.1 (Receive) 108.8* Hangar and tiedown Concrete 80, 100 oct. Canteen Rent-a-car and taxi Upland-game and waterfowl hunting nearby HAY SPRINGS None Hangar and tiedown Turf 80 oct. None None HEBRON None Hangar and tiedown Turf 80, 100 oct. None None Excellent hunting and fishing nearby. Golf course west of field HOLDREGE (Brewster Field) 122.8 (Unicom) Hangar and tiedown 1 concrete and 2 turf 80, 100 oct. None Courtesy car HUMBOLDT None Tiedown Turf None None None HYANNIS (Grant County) None Tiedown Asphalt and turf 80, 100 oct. service station in town, truck None None IMPERIAL (Hayes Center VOR 117.7 remoted to Imperial) Hangar and tiedown Asphalt and turf 80, 100 oct. Coffee and rolls Personal car and taxi Lake fishing and hunting KEARNEY 122.1 (Receive) 122.8 (Unicom) and 111.2* Hangar and tiedown Concrete 80, TOO oct. and jet fuel on prior request None Rent-a-car and taxi KIMBALL 122.8 (Unicom) Hangar and tiedown 1 asphalt and 2 turf 80, 100 oct. None Car LEXINGTON 122.8 (Unicom) Hangar and tiedown Concrete and turf 80 oct. None Taxi LINCOLN (Arrow Airport) 122.8 (Unicom) Hangar and tiedown Asphalt and turf 80, 91, and 100 oct. None Taxi Swimming and fishing at the club LINCOLN (Municipal) 118.5 (Tower) 121.9 (Ground Control) 122.1, 122.3, 122.6 116.1* Hangar and tiedown 1 concrete and 2 asphalt 80, 100, 115/145, A50, and K40 Restaurant in terminal building Limousine and taxi LODGEPOLE None Tiedown Turf 80, 100 oct. Yes None Pheasant hunting nearby McCOOK (Municipal) 122.1 (Receive) 122.8 (Unicom) 110.0* Hangar and tiedown Asphalt and turf, stabilized sub-base 80, 100 oct. None Taxi McCOOK (State) None Hangar and tiedown Concrete None None Taxi MERRIMAN (Cole Memorial Airport) None Hangar and tiedown Asphalt and turf 80 oct. None Courtesy car MILLARD None None Concrete 80, 100 oct. None Taxi MINDEN None Hangar and tiedown Concrete and turf 80, 100 oct. None Courtesy car Golf course on airport field MITCHELL None Hangar and tiedown Turf None None None Duck-hunting lodge 1 mile from field MULLEN 122.1 (Receive) 122.8 (Unicom) Tiedown Asphalt and turf 80 oct. None NEBRASKA CITY (Grundman Airport) None Hangar and tiedown Asphalt 80, 100/130 oct. Vi-mile Taxi NELIGH None Hangar and tiedown Asphalt and turf 80, 100 oct. None None NELSON (Doher Airstrip) 122.8 (Unicom) Hangar and tiedown Turf None OU. 1U0 OC. None None NORFOLK (Karl Stefan Field) 122.1 (Receive) 122.8 (Unicom) 109.6* Hangar and tiedown Asphalt None Rent-a-car and taxi NORTH PLATTE (Lee Bird Field) 122.2 (Receive) 122.8 (Unicom) 117.4* Hangar and tiedown Concrete 80-130 oct. and jet fuel Cafe Courtesy car and taxi OGALLALA (Lake McConaughy State Airstrip) None Tiedown Turf 100 oct. Yes None L OCTOBER 1969 49
"Time for coffee and a tire check," Harry said as he pulled into a small cafe in Beemer.
"Looks like rain, Harry," a waitress commented as we walked in the door. "Did you run through any on the way down."
"Nope, but it looks like we are going into a storm. Just give us a couple of cups of coffee. Got to get to Omaha before dark," he informed her.
The conversation continued until Harry flipped her a quarter for two coffees. After thumping the tires, we headed into a downpour just east of Beemer. As the huge wipers brushed back and forth, I cracked my window to smell the freshness of the rain, but by the time we reached the Fremont truck scale, the pavement was dry again. As we passed some cowboy-playing children, I wondered if they or their parents ever wondered what was inside our trailer. I doubted it, because ours was just one of a hundred trucks they see each day. Earlier, Harry said that a tractor is a world within a world, for a trucker eats, sleeps, and works in his house on wheels. To him the boy in the yellow sweater and the old man, hobbling down the street, belong to an outside world.
As sunset gold was replaced with the black of night, the lights of Omaha were sparkling gems at the end of our white line rainbow. Normally, our trip would be over, but we had to have the truck fixed. It was 9 p.m. when we pulled into the truck garage and it was three hours later before Harry turned off the ignition at the Ross dock and locked the truck. We were done, but our load still had a ways to go. Tomorrow, all the cargo heading north, east, and south would be loaded onto other trucks from other companies, because the Ross Transfer authority ends in Omaha.
Harry would spend the night in Omaha and then the next day at 5:30 p.m. he would head back to Valentine with a new load. He would arrive at 2 a.m. and at 4 a.m. Andy would get in the truck and head for Gordon, stopping along the way to deliver goods. At Gordon, he would meet Jesse and they would trade trucks. And so it goes day in and day out with the drivers of Ross Transfer.
After 20 hours of riding and waiting, I was too tired to care. My brother picked me up at the Omaha dock and as we headed for my parents' house in the out skirts of the city, I could still hear the roar of the diesel, feel the vibration of the floorboards, and see each of the drivers shifting gears. Tired as I was, I envied the men who follow that long, white line across Nebraska.
THE END102 MALLARDS
(Continued from page 20)we heard a strange "bang-plunk, bang plunk, bang-plunk" coming from the shoreline, but the sounds were familiar to our farm-trained ears. The farmers were out picking corn and the noise came from the first ears hitting the bang boards 50 NEBRASKAland of the wagons. It was a calm, shirtsleeve morning and sounds traveled for miles in the clear air of that November 1, so many years ago.
It was edging 11 a.m. and so far all we had beside the teal were 5 bluebills who had winged downriver. They were only about three feet above the water and bagging them was pretty easy. We kept an eagle eye on the horizon as we ate our lunches wondering where all the mallards were. It had been stormy some three days before our hunt and we about decided that all the redfbots had gone on south. I was gnawing on a sandwich when our decoys suddenly started talking it up. A pair of mallards were right in front of us, setting their wings for the come in.
Pete was in the middle, Axel to the left, and I was to the right, so Pete, who was more or less the boss of the blind, whispered to me to take the one on my side and Axel to take the other. We splashed them both.
The shooting renewed our hopes for more big birds, but as time went on our excitement dwindled away. Then it happened. Two big flocks of mallards were coming from the south. They weren't in any hurry and we surmised they were looking for a spot to dump in and rest. Our decoys spotted them and began their highballing. Pete ordered us to sit still and we did, so still that I could hear my heart pounding away.
The mallards heard the decoys, broke formation, and started to circle. Pete kept up a running commentary as the ducks wheeled over the water. The two flocks had joined and the air was full of birds.
"It's a big bunch. I believe they're going to come in. Sit still, now!"
For some reason, the flock split up again and later we found out the drakes had peeled off from the hens and separated. Still there were plenty of birds.
"Oh, boy! They're coming in. They're coming in," Pete whispered excitedly. "Let them get into the decoys."
The landing mallards had their customary quarrel with the decoys and then pulled away. Now was the time.
"Axel, pot that bunch closest in," Pete ordered. But Axel must have misunderstood. Darned if he didn't try for the far ones. He nailed three. Pete and I came up shooting when we saw what was happening. I couldn't believe it, but 22 of the biggest, fattest northern mallards you ever saw stayed behind after our barrage.
We toasted our success with the coffee we had left before Pete took the boat out to pick up the birds. From then on, the afternoon turned into a duck hunters' dream. Mallards kept coming in and in and in. Some came in even while Pete was out in the boat and he got plenty of shooting, but Axel and I got the best of it as the wild birds responded to the decoys.
Pete's hunting partner, Fred Masters, lived about five miles from the river. He was picking corn at the time and he could hear the distant "boom, boom" of our guns as he worked away. Finally, he couldn't stand it any longer. He raced home, tied his team, jumped into his Model T, and drove to the tent. By this time we were ready to come in.
Fred's eyes were as big as saucers when he saw our bag. He wanted some of the action right now and insisted we go back out.
NEBRASKAland AIRPORTS (con't.) Airport Storage Runway Surface Fuel Meals Transportation Remarks OGALLALA (Searle Field) 122.8 (Unicom) Hangar and tiedown Turf 80, 100 oct. None Car and taxi Swimming, fishing, and boating nearby OMAHA (Eppley Airfield) 119.1 (Tower) 122.1, 122.6 (Receive) 116.3* 117.1* (Neola) 121.9 (Ground Control) Hangar and tiedown Concrete 80, 91, 100 oct. JP-1 and 640 Kero Restaurant Limousine, car rental, and taxi OMAHA (North Omaha Airport) 122.8 (Unicom) Hangar and tiedown Concrete and turf 80. 100 oct. Restaurant Car OMAHA (South Omaha Airport) 122.8 (Unicom) Hangar and tiedown Turf 80, 100 oct. None Taxi O'NEILL (Receives 122.1 and 126.7 Grand Island radio.) 113.9* Hangar and tiedown Asphalt 80, 100 oct. None None Trapshooting at airport on Sundays in the fall ORD (Sharp Field) None Hangar and tiedown Turf 80, 100 oct. None None OSHKOSH None Tiedown Turf 80, 100 oct. None t None PENDER None Hangar and tiedown Turf 80 oct. Vz -block None POTTER None Hangar and tiedown Turf 100 oct. None None RED CLOUD None Tiedown Turf None None None REPUBLICAN CITY None None Turf None None None Harlan County Reservoir 400 feet from western boundary RUSHVILLE (Modisett Airport) None Hangar and tiedown Turf 80 oct. None Taxi Fishing at Wal-gren lake 12 miles southwest of city and at White Clay Dam 15 miles north. Duck hunting on the Sand Hill lakes SARGENT None Tiedown Turf 80 oct. None None SCOTIA None Tiedown Turf 80 oct. None None SCOTTSBLUFF 112.6* Hangar and tiedown Concrete 80, 100, and 145 oct. Restaurant Rent-a-car and taxi Lake Minatare 6 miles northeast cf field SCRIBNER None Hangar and tiedown Concrete 80 oct. None None SIDNEY 122.1 (Receives) 115.9* Hangar and tiedown Concrete and turf 80, 91. and 100 oct. JP-4 None Car and taxi Excellent hunting on North Platte River SOUTH SIOUX CITY (Martin Field) 122.8 (Unicom) Hangar and tiedown Asphalt 80, 100 oct. None Rent-a-car and taxi Public camping grounds V^-mile SPRINGVIEW None None Turf 80 oct. None None STROMSBURG None Tiedown Turf 80, 100 oct. None None STUART-ATKINSON None Hangar and tiedown Turf 80, 100 oct. None None SUPERIOR Ncno Hangar and tiedown Turf 80, 100 oct. None Car Good fishing in river 2V2 miles south of field. Excellent pheasant hunting near airport TECUMSEH None Hangar and tiedown Turf 80 oct. None None TEKAMAH None Turf THEDFORD None Tiedown Turf 80, 100, and 130 oct. In town None TRENTON None Hangar and tiedown Turf 80 oct. None None VALENTINE (Miiler Field) 122.8 (Unicom) Hanger and tiedown Asphalt 80, 100, and 130 oct. None None WAHOO None Hangar and tiedown Turf 80, 100 oct. None Taxi WALLACE None None Turf None 2 blocks None WAYNE 122.8 (Unicom) Hangar and tiedown Asphalt and turf 80, 100 oct. None Private car and car-rental service Good pheasant hunting WEEPING WATER (Brown's Airport) None Hanger and tiedown Turf 80 oct. None Car WILBER None None Turf None None None YORK 122.8 (Unicom) Tiedown Turf 80, 100 oct. None Courtesy car and taxi Airports marked "None" have no radio facilities * Indicates VOR station frequency
"Gosh, Fred, I'm tired out. I've been rowing all over the river chasing cripples. Besides, we've only got six shells left," Pete argued.
We had started the day with 125 shells among the 3 of us. We had 102 mallards and 8 or 9 other ducks, so it was no wonder our shotgun fodder was running low. Fred was adamant. He was going to kill some ducks and that was all there was to it.
"I've got plenty of shells. Let's go."
Out they went. Axel and I didn't go, but Pete later told me they got into a big flock just as soon as they hit the blind. Fred got pretty excited, so excited that he almost lost one of his favorite live decoys. He had brought this old hen mallard with him when he came out to camp.
According to Pete it happened this way. In his haste to stake out the decoys, Fred failed to secure the old hen. Once she realized she wasn't tethered, she took off, made two circles, and beelined for home. Fortunately, the hen had a late nest at Fred's place and she went right back to it, but for a few minutes, it looked like he was going to lose her for good.
As I recall the individual limits then were 25 or 30 birds and I know we went well over that, but this hunt was a long, long time ago and game laws weren't enforced very well. By today's standards our
kill was fantastic, but killing more than 100 ducks in a day was quite common back then. The supply of birds seemed in exhaustible and we and all others were too shortsighted to know that in a few short years there would be an alarming decline in America's waterfowl. I can't justify our actions except to say that none of our birds were wasted. Things were pretty tough and the birds were welcome additions to our larders. I wouldn't want to be a party to such a slaughter now, yet I look back on it as the greatest hunt I ever had. I consider myself fortunate to have had just a taste of the great water fowl gunning that once existed in our country.
NEBRASKAland proudly presents the stories of its readers. Here is the opportunity so many have requested-a chance to tell their own outdoor tales. Hunting trips, the "big fish that got away", unforgettable characters, out door impressions -all have a place here. If you have a story to tell, jot it down and send it to Editor, NEBRASKAland, State Capitol, Lincoln 68509. Send photographs, black and white or color, too, if any are available. THE ENDA CASE FOR PREJUDICE
(Continued from page 41)the only way to describe the scene at the bottom of the canyon. The clear water bubbling and surging over a clean, sandy bottom, limbs hanging over the clear, still pools, lush green foliage, wild raspberries lining the steep banks, and cliff swallows darting through the air made a picture I will never forget.
"This water looks perfect," Dana smiled, selecting a white-winged dry fly.
As if he knew our questions before we could ask them, the accountant began to 52 NEBRASKAland explain his fly fishing equipment in much more detail.
"I use a light, two to four-pound-test leader the length of the rod," he began. "In very clear water, such as high mountain streams, a fine, nearly invisible leader is a must. This water is clear, but not crystal clear, so a four-pound-test leader should work fine. The choice of flies is a personal matter. Dry flies, which float, are my favorites, but I use wet flies when necessary."
Dana "dressed" the fly with dry-fly oil and carefully stepped into the swift stream and began stripping line in three to four-foot segments from the automatic reel. He made several false casts to pull the loose line through the rod guides. Soon, 20 to 30 feet of line was lazing through the air in gentle S-curves.
When enough line was out, he stopped the rod tip at the two-o'clock position and the line sailed forward to let the fly settle in an eddy just inches in front of a rock. It looked so smooth, so easy. The fly floated gingerly out of the eddy, down some swift water in the middle of the stream, and then into another pocket of calmer water. Keeping most of the slack out of the line, our demonstrator let the fly drift back to within 20 feet of him before flipping it up and back before laying it out again to a selected spot. Dana worked the first pool for 30 minutes without a rise, but I wasn't disappointed. The beauty of the setting and the way Dana worked that fly rod was a revelation to me. As cast followed cast, I thought to myself. "This has to be purest way to fish there is."
I had brought my fly rod and some flies, but after watching Dana so expertly put his fly beside rocks and under low branches, I decided to be a spectator and to practice my fly casting in the driveway at home.
"Let's move upstream," Jim suggested. "There are several nice pools before we reach the falls."
He and I stayed a discreet distance behind as Dana continued to work the river, each cast falling with unerring accuracy - almost. A low-hanging branch and a puff of wind spoiled a perfect record. Jim waded out to help retrieve the errant "bug" and after its recovery Dana took a breather.
"This is a 'royal coachman', he said, indicating the fly Jim had pulled out of the tree. "Probably the most well-known fly around."
"Flies have all sorts of weird names," he went on, "like 'ginger quill', 'CabiU', 'gray-hackle peacock', 'pink lady', and even 'cow dung'. Then there are all sorts of nymphs, wet flies that resemble the underwater stage of flying insects, and streamers, wet flies with long feathery bodies which resemble minnows as they come through the water."
Dana tied on a Cahill, a gray-bodied fly with brown hackles. His second cast brought a candidate up from the depths but the strike was only a halfhearted one and the fish headed for the rocks.
"They're here, all right," Dana smiled. "It's just real slow this evening, but sooner or later, we'll find what they want."
Dusk comes early to the deep canyon and as we rounded the last bend before the falls we had about 30 minutes to creel a fish. Although we planned to fish the next day, we were silently hoping our first attempt wouldn't be a skunk.
"Back to old faithful," our expert said, tying on the white-winged, red-and-green-bodied royal coachman.
Jim and I climbed to a level spot on the high bank to watch the action. A loud whoop alerted us that Dana had a trout on. He had hit just as the fly landed, and the angler had his hands full with the light rod as the fish tried to run down river. The elderly fly fisherman turned him, letting the line pile up at his feet as he ignored the take-up on the reel and stripped in line by hand. This, I later learned, was to have line readily available if the fish made a long run that could snap the leader if there wasn't some slack. A nice brown, about a pound, went into the creel just as darkness made further fly fishing impossible.
We laid some plans for the next day on the way into Valentine. Jim had told us there was nice water above the falls, so we decided to give that area a try. The young rancher couldn't join us for the morning's fishing since he had to round up some strayed yearlings.
"We'll pull some out tomorrow," Dana said. "There ought to be a rainbow in there, too."
I had a feeling he knew what he was talking about, and a little after six the next morning his prediction came true. His first presentation turned up a nice rainbow that came out of a smooth pool just 10 feet from the edge of the falls.
I sat on a rock about 20 feet above the water and let the early-morning sun warm my back as it slowly worked its way over the rim of the canyon. The river was wider and slower above the falls, but it was every bit as beautiful. As Dana deftly worked the royal coach man, I thought of a comment he had made earlier on the art of fly fishing.
"Fly casting is all in the wrist," he had said. "I always tell a beginner to put a rock in his armpit. If the rock falls out during a cast, he's using too much arm."
My thoughts were interrupted by a sound of another trout breaking water with the fly firmly imbedded in its jaw. This one, a brown, ran upstream, stopped, and jumped again before giving in. Almost before the water had settled from that battle, another trout went for the offering. His leap, however, freed him from the barb, and we had to chalk up a miss. We could see trout taking food at the surface, so I knew it was only a matter of time until Dana would limit out. He had given his yesterday's brown to some tourists, so he could go for his bag and possession limit of seven.
Two one-pound rainbows came in rapid succession as the fly drifted by a float ing patch of moss. From my vantage point I could see each fish dart out from the cover to hit the floating fly. Both were good fighters, but they were up against more than 65 years of trout savvy and the end was almost prede termined. I was glad when the action slowed. Dana had to be back in Lincoln that evening which meant calling a halt by noon, but I hoped we could stay at least that long. The setting and the opportunity to watch an expert fly rodder were two things I wanted to enjoy as long as possible. But the trout had other ideas. After a break for coffee, the angler waded out for another go. He stayed with the royal coachman and so did the trout. Working some riffles just below a small falls, Dana hooked his fourth fish, a 12-inch rainbow. It tail walked like a five-pounder at Lake McConaughy before finding its way into the creel.
"Let's catch one more," my companion suggested. "That will get us out before the hot part of the day and give us plenty of time for a drive to North Platte."
The last fish of the day provided the best fight of all. Dana dropped his high-riding dry fly into a quiet pool behind a half-submerged log with a muttered, "If I latch on to one there he won't be easy to get out," just as the fly disappeared.
Keeping tension on the line as the rainbow, momentarily confused, dashed in tight circles behind the log, the excited angler quickly moved upstream where he had a better chance of working the fish out. But the trout wanted out of
there just as badly. He shot from behind
the log and headed for the open water
upstream toward the angler. Dana
frantically pulled in line, and as the
slack disappeared, the trout's dash was
slowly halted. However, attempting to
pull the trout in from downstream could
easily end in disaster, since the force of
the current combined with the trout's
resistance would almost surely break
the leader or pull the fly from the fish's
lip. Retrieving and keeping his rod high
to tighten line, Dana carefully moved
downstream until the tiring trout could
be brought in for netting.
As we strolled back along the rim of the canyon I noticed Dana smiling to himself.
"Why the smile?"
"I was just thinking about this fishing trip," he answered. "It's really great to be able to get away, even for just a few hours, to a place this beautiful with fish ing this good. It keeps me young."
"You know, Mike," Dana went on, "I've been fly fishing for so many years I sometimes forget the subtle beauty of the sport. There's actually a kind of ro mance connected with a thin bamboo rod, minute, feathery flies, wary trout, and exceptional scenery."
He paused to look into the canyon. "But then I guess I'm just naturally a little prejudiced after all these years." He has every right to be.
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(Continued from page 45)time a whopping 228,907 square miles were chopped off to form the Dakota Territory, and the permanent northern boundary of Nebraska was established along the 43rd parallel.
In the same act, Congress set aside lands in the previously formed Washing ton and Utah territories to be added to Nebraska. All lands between 41° and 43° north latitude, extending west to the 33rd meridian west of Washington, D.C.—which the government then count ed as the prime meridian —were added to the Panhandle. That made the Nebraska Territory stretch almost to the present western border of Wyoming. Congress had again exercised its arbitrary border-drawing powers. Nebraska was near its present proportions. Only the extended panhandle remained to be taken.
Two years later, in 1863, the Idaho Territory was formed from parts of the Utah, Washington, and Nebraska territories. Congress, acting within its prerogative to divide and subdivide the territories, gave 30,621 square miles of Nebraska to Idaho. That set Nebraska's present western boundary a few miles beyond the 104th meridian-the 27th me ridian of longitude west of Washington.
Nebraska then encompassed 75,995 square miles. However, the northern boundary extended westward along the Niobrara River to the Keya Paha River. It was finally straightened in 1882, in creasing the state's area to 77,227 square miles. The original boundary had been jagged because a Sioux Indian reservation had straddled the 43rd parallel and the boundary had been previously drawn 54 NEBRASKAland around it. In 1882, however, the portion of the reservation south of the 43rd parallel was annexed to Nebraska, although the state had no jurisdiction over the lands until the Indians ceded them to the state in 1890. That tract included most of what is today Boyd County plus parts of Knox and Keya Paha counties.
Years later, when the carving and recarving finally ended, nine new states appeared on the map, products of man's paper-shuffling ingenuity. Kansas, Nebraska, and Montana were totally formed from the original area, and parts of North and South Dakota, Colorado, Wyoming, Oklahoma, and New Mexico were chopped out of the original land.
While all this was going on, plenty was happening in the territory. As soon as the Kansas-Nebraska Act was signed, settlers started coming. The only settle ment in the Territory then was Bellevue, but soon there were others. Nebraska City, Plattsmouth, Florence, and Omaha were among the first. Speculation was rampant, and all along the Missouri River promoters proclaimed their towns the "gateway to the West".
While towns vied for the favor of the railroad builders, speculators took land — then began disputing their claims. Council Bluffs, Iowa entered the Nebraska Territory picture during this free for-all. Promoters wanted a city right across the river from their town. If it be came the territorial capital, it might be come a railroad center, a link in the chain of transcontinental transportation.
But railroad or not, the Council Bluffs people knew it would stimulate the ferry business. The Council Bluffs and Nebraska Ferry Company, a collective venture of those promoters, purchased interest in the proposed townsite and named it Omaha City after the Indian tribe.
As promoters scurried across the border to take their quick profits from the booming territory, Francis Burt, the first appointed governor, was making his tedious way from South Carolina. Taken ill in St. Louis, Burt took his oath of of fice from what became his deathbed. When he died two days after taking office, the territorial secretary became acting territorial governor.
Thomas B. Cuming was an Iowan, interested in promoting his own political career. The Iowa promoters who were pushing Omaha had supported Cuming's bid for appointive office. His duty, as he saw it, was to them, or so it appeared.
Cuming's first move, though, seemed fair enough. He ordered a census of the territory. That census showed a population of 2,732 of which 1,818 lived south of the Platte River and 914 north. In those days the Platte was a natural boundary, not the integrating force of today. It was too wide and shallow to ferry across and too sandy to ford. The people were too poor to build bridges, so the two parts of the territory were almost considered separate.
After the census, Cuming's actions began to get a little shady. He apportioned the legislature in favor of the north section. Then began the north south Platte feud which lasted for decades. To make the situation more complicated, Cuming ordered the first legislature to meet in his favorite city, Omaha. So Bellevue joined the south Platte "minority".
Omaha was the scene of heated debates. Almost without exception the seats of the territorial legislators from south of the Platte were challenged. The southern Platters argued that the representatives certified by the acting gover nor were not even citizens of the territory, an almost meaningless charge in a territory which had existed less than a year. One disgruntled south Platte man wrote that the Tekamah precinct in Burt County had a somewhat dubious election. At the last moment, he charged, the published polling place was moved for the "convenience of the voters, who had to be imported."
Amid anger and confusion, the contested seats were referred to a committee that was dominated by Omaha men. In due time, the committee reported that it was "inexpedient" to investigate the subject further. The legislative session must go on.
The first session met in the only brick building in town. Red and green calico curtains hung at the windows, and accommodations were none too dignified. The representatives sat in schoolboy desks, two to a desk, in a building that had been a gift from the Council Bluffs and Nebraska Ferry Company.
With contested seats "secure", the legislature went on to the momentous decisions of a first session. The first of these was on the permanent location of the capital. Although the Omaha men held a slim majority in both houses of the legislature, the capital question was one of heated debate with Bellevue fight ing for what seemed its historic right.
By February of 1855, the legislature was still debating the location of the capital. The newly appointed governor, Mark W. Izard, interrupted the debate long enough to suggest adoption of the entire civil and criminal codes of Iowa. The legislature assented. But, little had been accomplished by the end of the session. The capital question had dominated debate and even that was not permanent ly settled. This issue was to crop up again and again.
In 1855, a second census revealed a population of 4,494. A year later, there were 10,716 inhabitants of the Nebraska Territory. More and more people were getting more and more venturesome.
What was drawing these people to the untried land? Riches. They were speculating on a fast fortune in land. Every one wanted land and speculators were willing to make money selling it. They sent word back East that there were all kinds of wealth in Nebraska. If the minerals weren't enough, then the rich farmland was there. If the farmland wasn't interesting, then the beautiful climate would attract anyone. If not the climate, then the thriving towns that were grow ing by leaps and bounds and needing all kinds of tradesmen were attractions enough. There was money to be made everywhere, or so the speculators said.
One of the pots of gold found at the foot of the Nebraska rainbow was not gold at all. Although the gold fields of the Pikes Peak region were separated from Nebraska, speculators had "coal fever".
As Easterners inquired about settling Nebraska, one of their first questions was, "What do we use for fuel?" And some promoters answered without hesitation, "Coal."
There were "signs" of coal all over the state. Eager listeners heard that one had but to dig for it and the whole territory would be heated, at a large profit to the successful miner, or so the promoters said. It wasn't until after statehood that a geological survey revealed a scarcity
of workable veins. Meanwhile, miners
were taking soft coal in small quantities.
At the same time, things in the legislature were not well. The location of the capital was still being disputed in the fourth legislative session, when the struggle reached mock heroic proportions. The south Platte delegation, along with the Bellevue group, departed for Florence where they began their own maverick legislature, a legislature unrecognized by any authority. Accomplishing nothing, the session only awakened resentment and renewed an idea promoted by J. Sterling Morton, annexation to Kansas. South Platte politicians held meetings throughout the area. Delegates were elected to represent south Platte at the Kansas Constitutional Convention, but Kansas was not interested.
The plan failed miserably and the faction was forced to return to Omaha with nothing solved and their resentment not forgotten. If the annexation had taken place, Lincoln would be in Kansas today.
While the legislature busily argued the capital question, territorial business went its own way without direction. In a time of rampant speculation, the territorial government found time to require banks to have at least $50,000 subscribed before issuing money. But, they required no cash on hand, so the banks began issuing "wildcat" currency. In 1857, the economy came tumbling down.
It was in the midst of this depression that word came from Washington that land in Nebraska would go on sale beginning September 6, 1858. When the territory was opened, the Pre-emption Act of 1841 provided that when a survey was finally completed, settlers could buy the land most nearly matching their claim, cheap. Now the time had come, but no one could pay his $1.25 per acre.
A howl of protest arose. As Robert W. Furnas, a future governor said years later, "Numbers entered land on credit, with trust deeds for security, and after struggling for several years, and paying hundreds of dollars of interest money, walked off and left their farms to the speculator who had sucked the lifeblood from him for several years in the shape of 40 percent interest."
The deadline was postponed once, but the inevitable finally left settlers in debt and without further resources. Many lost their land, but some managed to hang on. Though the gold fields were later taken away and vast reaches of ranching country were lost, Nebraska was still to become one of the greatest agricultural areas of the world.
Despite the loss of the mountains, Nebraska kept the Platte Valley, the great past and present travel route. The Pony Express, stage coach lines, and freight lines all paralled the Platte River. Today, Interstate 80 follows this historical road to the West.
As NEBRASKAland developed, the desire for statehood aroused further anguish in political circles and the years of argument and battle resulted in Nebraska's acceptance into the Union in 1867. The capital, after further sleight of hand, ended up south of the Platte River. Nebraska was a state.
THE ENDISLAND OF THE WILD
(Continued from page 33)individuals can also play a vital role in conserving our natural resources.
A system of awards is established to recognize the people who become involved. Participating youth, whether individuals or groups, who establish a plot at least one acre in size, receive a certificate signed by the Governor of Nebraska and the Director of the Game and Parks Commission. There are also certificates for the adult leaders who meet qualifications, while shoulder patches are awarded to qualifying youth and leaders. The landowner may be contributing the most to the program, and in appreciation of his cooperation, the Game and Parks Commission awards him a one-year subscription to NEBRASKAland.
A brief description of the early reaction to Dr. Cowgill's plan helps in judging its value. The first enrollment was submitted in April 1969 by Edward Frey who established a plot on his father's farm just west of Albion. Additional enrollments came in at a slow pace at first. Then more action materialized. The 107 enrollments submitted by the end of July 1969 designated over 362 acres, includ ing some individual plots as large as 20 acres. These 107 enrollments involved 196 youth, as individuals or group members, 17 adult leaders, and 126 land owners or operators. Some of the enrolling "youth" are operating their own farms for no age limit was established on the term, youth, for this program. People of all ages have indicated their desire to help, but the main drive for the program comes from the young.
Technical assistance is not limited to the young, for the Game and Parks Commission welcomes the opportunity to work with adults, too. Trained personnel from the Commission are always ready to visit the landowners and operators about the management of the wildlife community. Often, these discussions result in practical recommendations for a personal farm or ranch wildlife plan. An inventory is made of every major form of nature that exists on a tract of land and areas with special value are pointed out. The future value of nature islands is also discussed. These discussions can cover everything from beauty to erosion, from game birds to songbirds, from native owers to insects, from fertilizer to pesticides. Wildlife personnel also welcome the opportunity to discuss the weeds, insect pests, and pollution problems that plague the farm or ranch. They may not have an answer to every problem, but they do offer assistance in every way possible.
It is hoped that such discussions may lead to a financial reward for the land owner through wise use of grassland and woodland. Besides these long-term benefits, the wildlife planner will list cost sharing resources for new tree-plantings, building farm wildlife ponds, and other conservation practices that may be eligible for state or federal financial help.
Finally, the wildlife planner will review the personal benefits that are returned to the participant. These are not easily described, for they stem from personal philosophy and heritage. The conservation salesman then departs, leaving the wildlife plan in the hands of the individual, hoping it will spark a new conservation conscience.
THE ENDAnyone interested in participating in NEBRASKAland Acres For Wildlife should contact the Land Management Division of the Nebraska Game and Parks Commission, State Capitol, Lin coln, Nebraska 68509. — Editor.
NEBRASKAland TRADING POST
Acceptance of advertising implies no endorsement of products or services. Classified Ads: 15 cents a word, minimum order $3. January 1970 closing date, November 1. DECOYS SOLID PLASTIC DECOYS. Original Do-It-Yourself Decoy-Making Kit. All species available. Catalog 25 cents. Decoys Unlimited, Box 69E, Clinton, Iowa 52732. SOLID PLASTIC DECOY ducks $1.25. Geese floaters $3. Full body $3.50. Heads 25 cents and up. McCauley Decoy Company, 6911 North 31st Av- enue, Omaha, Nebraska 68112. DOGS A.K.C. Black Labradors: Quality pups, broods, studs, priced for quick sale. Place sold. Dogs must go. Kewanee Retrievers, Valentine, Nebraska 69201. AKC AMERICAN WATER SPANIELS. Natural-born retrievers and hunters. M. B. Worley, 2604 South Royce, Sioux City, Iowa 51106. ENGLISH POINTERS. Excellent gun dogs. Pups, dogs, and stud service. M. D. Mathews, M.D., St Paul, Nebraska 68873. GERMAN SHORT-HAIRED POINTER PUPPIES born June 16, ready to start training this fall. The sire is Moegaards Dandy. Write: Findrew Nelson, Box 306, Creighton, Nebraska 68729 or inquire at Finn's Inn. HUNTING DOGS: German shorthairs, English pointers, Weimaraners, English, Irish, and Gordon setters, Chesaneakes, Labradors, and gulden re- trievers. Registered pups, all ages, $55 each. Robert Stevenson, Orleans, Nebraska 68966. POINTER PUPS: Dam, Daughter of Champion Gun Smoke, Sired by Champion-Elhew Long Rifle. Rea- sonable Price. Bob Blankenau, Bird Dog Kennels Dodge, Nebraska, Phone 693-2000. "WANTED A.K.C. puppies, registered and purebred kittens. We have on display NEBRASKAland's largest selection of puppies and kittens, hunting breeds, sled breeds, and pets. If we don't have what you want immediately on hand we can usually acquire within 30 days." Excalibur Inter- national (Kennel and Cattery), 4230 South 84 Street, Omaha, Nebraska 68127. MISCELLANEOUS BOB-K'S AQUA SUPPLY. Nebraska's largest skin and scuba diving dealer. U.S. Divers Aqua-lung headquarters. Air station. Hydro test. Phone 553-0777, 5051 Leavenworth, Omaha, Nebraska 68106. BUMPER STICKERS, decals, buttons. Low-cost, custom-made advertising for your business, special event, organization, or political campaign. Buy direct from manufacturer and save! Write for free brochure, price list, and samples. Please state intended use. Reflective Advertising, Inc., Dept. N, 873 Longacre, St. Louis, Missouri 63132. Phone (314) 423-5495. CARTRIDGES FOR SALE. Single specimens for cartridge collectors. Many different variations of old cartridges. J. O'Dell, 1203 Greenlawn, Norfolk, Nebraska 68701. COLLAPSIBLE live-catch animal traps, postpaid. Free information, pictures, Shawnee, 3934-AX Buena Vista, Dallas, Texas 75204. CUSTOM-MADE, hollow-glass, 7-foot spinning rods and 8Y2-foot fly rods. Best action. All hand made and unconditionally guaranteed. $18 each post paid. K.O. Industries, 1212 West Fair Avenue, Mar- quette, Michigan 49855. DO-IT-YOURSELF NATURE LOVERS, HOME OWNERS, HANDYMEN . . . Young and old, help to protect our song birds, beautify your gardens, and enjoy the great outdoors. Build birdhouses and feeders, outdoor fireplaces, and garden furniture from our plans. Send $1 for illustrated brochure price lists of plans, now. One-dollar discount on first order. HAGER DESIGNS, 3712 Halsted Road, Rockford, Illinois 61103. FERTILIZER. Custom dry bulk spreading. Bonded & licensed dealer in Nebraska and South Dakota. Roy Litchfield, P.O. Box 290, David City, Nebraska 68632. GOVERNMENT LANDS. Low as $1 acre. Millions of acres! For exclusive copvrighted report . . . plus "Land Opportunity Digest" listing lands available throughout the U. S.. send $1. Satisfaction guar- anteed! Land Disposal, Box 9091 -57J, Washington, D. C. 20003. PREPARE FOR DRIVER'S TEST. 100 questions and answers based on Nebraska Driver's Manual. $1.02. E. Glebe, Box 295, Fairbury, Nebraska 68352. SO YOU KNOW all about the birds and bees! Then, you know wildlife needs more and better places to live. You can help by providing or pro- tecting habitat. For details, write to: NEBRASKA- land Acres for Wildlife, Game Commission, State Capitol, Lincoln, Nebraska 68509. STONEGROUND CORNMEAL. Most complete line Health Foods. Many processed daily. Come see us or write. Brownville Mills, Brownville, Ne- braska. WE ARE SPECIALISTS. We handle wide wheels and tires for campers, jeeps, scouts, dune buggies. Excellent flotation and traction. We guarantee vibration-free and trouble-free performance. For the largest stock and selection in the Midwest, see T O. Haas Tire, 640 West "O", Lincoln, Ne- braska, or phone 435-3211. ^TAXIDERMY TAXIDERMY work—big-game heads, fish-and-bird mounting; rug making, hide tanning, 36 years experience. Visitors welcome, Floyd Houser, Suther- land, Nebraska. Phone 386-4780. KARL SCHWARZ Master Taxidermists. Mounting of game heads - birds - fish - animals - fur rugs - robes - tanning buckskin. Since 1910. 424 South 13th Street, Dept. A., Omaha, Nebraska 68102. GAME HEADS and fish expertly mounted by latest methods. Forty years experience. Excellent work- manship on all mounts. Christiansen's Taxidermy, 421 South Monroe Street, Kimball, Nebraska 69145.OUTDOOR NEBRASKAland of the Air
Where to go
Pioneers Park, Bailey YardMERE MINUTES away from the bustle of downtown Lincoln are acres and acres of quiet glens and spacious meadows. Pioneers Park, southwest of the city, is a wonderland of pleasant surprises. It is easily reached by driving south on Ninth Street to South Street, then west on South to Park Boulevard. A blue sign on the boulevard directs the visitor to the city-owned park.
A life-size bronze statue of a buffalo, surrounded by the formal landscaping of Harris Circle, introduces the park's skillful blend of man's ingenuity and nature's beauties. Close-cropped meadows are surrounded by trees. Secluded lakes with swans, wild ducks, and captive geese provide just the touch of cool blue to make the picture perfect. But viewing is not the only enjoyment offered in the area. Complete picnic facilities are also part of the complex. Surrounding the park are summer-outing facilities of every kind from a supper club to a fresh fruit and vegetable stand.
A number of show pastures, hosting deer, elk, goats, llamas and other grazing animals, make it a children's paradise. Other attractions for the kids include slides, swings, merry-go-rounds, and teeter-totters. Wide, grassy meadows for running also take their toll of the youngsters' pep.
For adults, an 18-hole golf course makes the park a center of activity, while Pinewood Bowl, a natural amphitheater, is the setting for numerous concerts and other entertainments during the summer months. Horses are available nearby for trail rides, too, and bridle paths abound.
The recently-added Chet Ager Nature Center is a big attraction for nature buffs. From the windows of the rustic cabins there, the marshes with their busy wild inhabitants are but a look away. Nature hikers are rewarded by a variety of botanical species — marked with generic names for easy identification.
In keeping with the pioneer theme, a cement sculpture of Chief Red Cloud, peers toward the surrounding hills. His smoldering fire and blanket are a reminder of the days when Indians used smoke signals to communicate. Not far from the chief, on another hill, stands "Old 710", a giant steam locomotive of another era.
While Pioneers' locomotive sits quietly, other locomotives are busy in North Platte, going about a nation's business.
The Union Pacific Railroad's recently completed Bailey Yard in North Platte was built to speed the flow of freight cars through a sorting process, make them into trains, and send them on their way. The U.P.'s $12.5 million facility incorporates all the latest automatic-freight classification equipment and know-how that has been developed by the industry. This complex is one of the largest in the country.
Visitors are welcome to this highly automated operation, but arrangements should be made in advance by contacting the General Manager, Union Pacific, 1416 Dodge Street, Omaha, Nebraska 68102.
The 800-acre yard is built in the shape of a huge bowl. Cars are guided over the rim to where they are switched onto anyone of the 62 tracks in the hollow. The 65 miles of track in the facility can handle up to 4,146 cars at one time. Two engine-servicing stations provide room for 40 engines and a pumping capacity of 2,000 gallons of diesel fuel per minute.
The operations of the yard are computer controlled. This device records the number of cars in a cut as they roll down the incline, weighs them, measures their speed, aligns the switches, and applies the proper amount of pressure in the retarders so the cars roll onto the right classification track in the bowl at a proper speed for a smooth and gentle coupling. Pioneers Park, designed for recreation, and the North Platte retarder yards, de signed for business, were both built with the future in mind.
THE END MARTIN INCIDENT This marker, located at the westbound Alda Interchange rest area on Interstate 80 recalls an era when Nebraska's historic Platte Valley was far from the peaceful thorough fare it is today. Nat Martin's grave can be seen in the village cemetery at Doniphan 10 miles south of Grand Island on U S High way 281. 58 NEBRASKAland
