Playing in Water

Summer means it's time to play with water! It all started with Daddy taking Nature Boy irrigating. Nature Boy had lots of fun, coming home entirely coated with mud. We got out the little swimming pool and the hose.
Notice the mud around his mouth. No matter how many times we tell him not to, he still eats dirt and mud!
Nature Boy, sporting a lovely farmer's tan, did most of the work of filling the pool. He thought the hose was terrific fun. He was already soaking wet, so we didn't care how much wetter he got.
And when it got deep enough, he crawled right in, with his trusty sidekick close by.
We had so much fun in the morning that we had to come out again in the afternoon for some more fun.

The added benefit of playing with the hose is that our scraggly grass and trees got a little extra moisture. It's stream water and cold, but Nature Boy didn't seem to mind. I put my feet in for a couple minutes and that's all I could take.
Henry is back to his old tricks of tackling his buddy. Henry was good about staying out of the pool, but he wanted to be close to all the action.
The two share a special moment.
And they're both good about posing for Mama.

But I swear I didn't have Nature Boy pose for this picture. When I turned and saw him doing this I cracked up so much I could hardly hold the camera still. 

Desert Destination: Fish Springs National Wildlife Refuge

Every Monday we'll take a trip to the desert to help ease the transition into the work week and perhaps give you ideas of places to go.

Today we'll head to Fish Springs National Wildlife Refuge located in western Utah. This place is so remote that the refuge personnel have to drive an hour to pick up the mail. An hour on gravel roads. An hour with no house on the way. An hour that if you break down could turn into many hours or even days due to the lack of traffic.

Now that I may have scared you (at least my city relatives and friends), let me tell you that the adventure into the remote desert is well worth it. Fish Springs is an oasis, with five major springs putting forth about 22 cubic second feet (cfs) of water. That water supports nearly 10,000 acres of marshes, and the birds know where to find them, arriving in stunning numbers during migrations. Even during the middle of summer it's surprising how many birds are taking advantage of the cool spot in the desert. 

The entrance sign is quite obvious. It's the only big sign along the gravel road for at least 50 miles.
From the gravel road, it's not apparent what Fish Springs is. So take the time to enter the refuge and take the self-guided auto tour, which follows along dikes that separate the different pools and marshes. 
Fish Springs National Wildlife Refuge was created in 1959. Before that, the area was used as hunting grounds, a supply stop for the Pony Express and Lincoln Highway, a ranch, and to raise bullfrogs and muskrats. During the height of the Lincoln Highway in the early 1920s, more people traveled near Fish Springs than do today. 
The American White Pelican is a common sight in spring and summer. An American Avocet lends some color to the water. The springs and ponds also support native fish like the least chub.
A Black-necked Stilt is well equipped to find insects in the tall grasses and mud.
This sign explains some of the shorebirds seen in Fish Springs. From the looks of the white streaks on the sign, some of those birds should be called signbirds.
So pack your hat and water and a couple spare tires and head out into the desert to Fish Springs. It's worth the trip. For more information check out http://www.fws.gov/fishsprings/

The Allure of Going Underground

It's starting to warm up, and during the hot summer afternoons I think about what the animals are doing to stay cool. I especially admire the animals that go underground--the burrowing owls, snakes, marmots, badgers, kit foxes, and many insects. If you just go a couple feet underground it's amazing how much cooler the temperature is. I spent many afternoons as a kid in the basement to take advantage of the natural coolness the ground provided (and Mom wouldn't let us go to the swimming pool until late afternoon when the sun rays weren't as strong). Perhaps those many afternoons in the basement helped develop a love of caves in me.When I see a dark hole beckoning, I can't help but wonder what is in there. The desert is full of caves; perhaps the most famous one is Carlsbad Caverns in the Chihuahuan desert of New Mexico. Gigantic rooms are followed by even larger ones. Towering formations that reach to the ceiling are overwhelming. I can't really fathom the time it took for these formations to grow, one drop of water at a time, the calcite slowly accumulating over years, decades, centuries, millenia. Seeing so many formations in desert caves makes it obvious that the desert above the cave has not always been around, at one point the climate was much wetter. A trip through a cave like Carlsbad Caverns is breathtaking and awe inspiring.
But what really gets my blood pumping is when I'm in a cave off the beaten path and see a hole that perhaps no one has been down. I'll wiggle through to see what's on the other side. I even know how small a hole I can fit through and not get stuck. That's important when your hobby is wiggling through little holes in the ground.
There are always holes too small for me, but I know that other creatures might be there. I'm just a visitor to the cave. There are creatures who make their homes underground. This cave cricket spends part of its life cycle in a cave and has extra long antennae to be able to feel around in the entirely dark environment. I always make sure to take three sources of light and a helmet because I don't want to be left in the dark and bump my head. But sometimes I turn off my light in the cave, and the rest of the group I'm with does the same, and we stay as quiet as we can. The dark becomes so intense that I start imagining that I'm seeing cave walls or creatures. The quiet becomes a dull roar in my ears, sometimes punctuated by a drop of water hitting the cave floor. Drip, drip, drip. The monotony becomes torture, and before long someone makes a noise so that we can reassure ourselves that we aren't alone. We'll continue on the trip, enjoying the journey of being in a place that few people experience.
No matter how beautiful and exciting the cave, I always feel a little surge of adrenalin when I see daylight peeking through the entrance. I emerge from the cave and take a deep breath of the vegetation-tinged air and feel the heat of the sun on my cheeks. I've made it out; the cave has not claimed me. It doesn't take long, though, to start thinking about that next trip into the unknown. 

Driving Tractors Part I

First off, I've been told that Nature Boy is not viewed by some as a good nickname for my darling son. When I think of the term Nature Boy I think of a juvenile that has fun playing outside and doesn't like to come in much, but apparently the appellation holds other connotations for some. So if you have a better epithet for the little guy who likes to eat dirt, climb everything, wrestle with his puppy, eat dogfood, try to get into things he shouldn't, play in water, eat strange unidentifiable black things and get dirty, please leave a comment with your suggestion.

The ranch has many tractors of all shapes and sizes. Most don't work, giving my dear husband, his brothers, and the mechanic palpitations. Nature Boy doesn't care if it works or not, he just wants to see how much fun it is to pretend to drive it. So here are a few of the tractors on the ranch as Nature Boy "test drives" them.

This John Deere 720 is missing its seat (and probably several other parts), but it still looks cool. It sits down by the shop for everyone to admire (or not).

This is an important tractor, a John Deere 4450, which is used daily to feed the cows in the feedlot.
This John Deere 8100 is also used quite a bit.
Nature Boy likes the interior, but he will have to grow a bit to see over the steering wheel.
This seat appears to be a little closer to his size. He already knows he needs to shift. He's inside this old loader.

Here's an old John Deere 55. It hasn't been used in a long time, the wheels have sunk into the ground. But it has a lot of interesting looking parts.
Nature Boy pretends to like the different parts, but I notice he's putting some dirt in his mouth. When I tell him to spit it out, he just laughs at me.

Nature Boy loves the Backhoe (Case 580 Super M) more than any other piece of equipment, probably because he sees his Daddy use it often.
Or maybe it's because it has a comfortable seat. He crosses his legs all the time.

On the other hand, Nature Boy doesn't seem to mind the wind and lack of air conditioning in this backhoe. His Daddy says he needs to learn how to steer better. Maybe by the time he's 18 months. 

Going around in Circles

When I came out to the desert, I had certain preconceived notions, like there would be lots of cacti (nope), that it would be really hot (yep, at least in summer), that it would be boring (nope), and there would be lots of wide, open spaces with big skies and few people (yep). At least that last part is true where I live. And the reason is that there just isn't much water. In the state of Nevada, only 11% of the land is private, and most of that is near water. The early settlers knew that they couldn't survive without it, so they put down their roots in those wet places.

They planted gardens and orchards to feed themselves, and they planted fields in order to feed their livestock during the winter months. With not enough precipitation to have the fields grow on their own, the settlers diverted streams to water the fields. This so-called flood irrigation used simple technology at first. Today it is more complex, using laser levels to get the fields to the right slope and time-operated gates to allow water onto the field for a certain amount of time. Generally flood irrigation is time consuming, requiring people to move water around. Wildlife flock to the open water on the fields. 

As technology improved, hand lines became popular to spread the water more efficiently. Basically these are pipes with sprinkler heads placed along the pipes. The pipes latch together, so when a different section needs to be watered, the pipe is taken apart and moved. Slightly less work intensive are wheel lines, which have a small motor that move the pipes across the field. 

Two wheel lines can be seen in this photo. The small specks in the middle of the field are pronghorn antelope enjoying an easy meal.

Technology improved, and center pivot irrigation was born. The large circle fields that you can see from airplanes are the pivots. A tower in the middle of the field is the central point, and the water is sent through a galvanized steel pipe that is supported by trusses mounted on wheeled towers that go around and around. Sprinklers are spaced along the pipe. Pivots generally cover 90 to 180 acres.
When I first came out here, I wondered why the water was going all day long. Why not just water at night, when there would be less evaporation? It turns out that it can take up to seven days for a pivot to make a complete circle, and in order to get enough water on the fields, the water has to run both day and night.
To help reduce the amount of evaporation, hoses called goosenecks extend down from the water pipe to spray water closer to the ground. As the pivot moves around the field, water in the center sprays for less time than on the outer spans so that the entire field is watered evenly. Even by using water more sparingly, there are still few people who live out here in this rural area, due to the scarcity of water. Despite the internet and phones that make life seem "civilized," it still feels a little old-fashioned to live in a place that has the same population as it did roughly 150 years ago. 

Tomorrow: Nature Boy on tractors