The Ball of Twine and Other Scintillating Tourist Spots

 

It was raining when we got to Cawker City, Kansas, last week. But I still got out of the car to take photos of the World's Largest Ball of Sisal Twine. 

 

Actually, this was our second trip to visit the Ball of Twine. It was also a stop on a long-ago vacation with Jill and Brent. Let's just say that vacation was ... memorable. I have never claimed to be either a camping enthusiast or a fisherman. I didn't grow up doing either of those things. 

 

Usually, Randy and the kids had their own camping adventures. They'd visit some convenience store situated near a lake and they'd load up on Oreos and other delicacies. Poker 101 was part of the curriculum for these educational journeys. 

 

But for this particular long-ago trip, I consented to go along - mainly because we weren't sleeping on the ground. Even at that age, my back couldn't take that. Randy booked a "cabin" at nearby Waconda Lake. It was ... rustic. It was more like a trailer that hadn't been updated with decor or repairs since it came off the factory line many, many moons before. And, of course, it required bringing and fixing all the meals. Yay ... what a vacation! (?)

 

I'm always willing to hold a fishing pole. I may have a book in the other hand, but I'll hold the pole. We all tried valiantly to catch fish. We even had a guide. 

 

And we didn't catch one.

 

We did catch a glimpse of Cawker City's Ball of Twine. It's still a vacation that the kids talk about. You can imagine what kind of talk. I snapped the photos and texted them: Remember the BEST vacation EVER?

 

Just in case you haven't seen it yourself, here are the stats:

 

At 17,320 lbs, 40 foot circumference, and more than 7,938,709 of sisal twine, the Cawker City Community Club is the official owner/caretaker of the ball of twine. Each year a Twine-a-Thon is held in conjunction with the annual Cawker City picnic and parade, so the ball never stops growing. Frank Stoeber started the twine ball in 1953 on his farm and by 1957 it weighed about 5,000 lbs. 

Snapping the photos gave me an excuse to get out of the car. We were on a 5-hour trek from Topeka to Kearney, Nebraska. Earlier in the week, we'd driven from Topeka to Omaha for a short vacation with the girls. (More on that to come.) We then took them back to Topeka, watched a tennis lesson and stayed the night before getting in the car again to go to Kearney for the Great Plains United Methodist Church annual conference, where I was our church's lay representative. 

Not long after our brief stop in Cawker City, we started seeing signs for the Home on the Range cabin. Neither of us had ever been to this historic cabin. After a lot of rainfall in the area, we weren't sure whether the road off the highway would be firm enough to travel. But it was well-graveled, though I was glad we didn't meet another car. 

By the time we got there, the rain had stopped and it was a beautiful day. And the cabin is in an idyllic setting among trees and near a creek. 

It was easy to imagine how Dr. Brewster Higley VI conjured up the words to a poem he called "My Western Home" back in 1871.

At the time, Higley was living on a dugout that he built on the banks of the West Beaver Creek in Smith County, Kansas. Not long after, with the help of a few friends, he constructed a cabin in 1872. Dr. Higley presented the poem to his friend Dan Kelley who set it to music and then gave it to John Harlan, the leader of a family band that included Kelley. The song “Home on the Range” was born.

 

The plaque says: Dr. Higley enjoyed sitting outside his cabin, writing, meditating and simply listening to the sounds along his beloved West Beaver Creek. 

 

There were times he would play his violin with the music enjoyed by those living on the Jones Homestead just south of Home on the Range.

The location of the historic Higley cabin was approved for listing on the National Historical Register in 1973. The cabin site is 57 acres of grassland on the 240-acre homestead. The crop land is rented to a private operator. Net income from the landlord's share of the farming operation is invested back into the site. No individuals benefit financially from the site. The entire site is privately owned and managed by the Peoples Heartland Foundation, a 501c3 charity.

The restoration of the cabin was done in 2013, but the management of the historic site have even bigger hopes and dreams. They'd like to build a $2.5 million amphitheatre on site. As with most projects, funding is the obstacle. They have built a new bridge and have created a walking path named in honor of Pete and Ellen Rust, who moved to the farm in 1936 and finally attained full ownership in 1950. The Rusts and everyone in the Highland community knew the cabin was built by Dr. Brewster Higley VI, yet it continued to be used as a chicken house until 1947, when Home on the Range became the state song of Kansas.

 

It was during the following years that the Rusts had several chances to profit from the sale of the cabin, but in every instance, declined the offers because the buyers planned to move the cabin off site. They established the basis for the cabin staying forever on the site for the enjoyment of all who visit. The Cabin is open for visitors daily from daylight to dark. There's no admission charge, though there is a collection box, if visitors wish to make a donation.  

We thought it provided a nice little break from the drive and were glad we took the time to stop. From Athol, Kansas, it's 1 mile west on US 36, then 8 miles north on Home of the Range Highway (K-8). Turn left on 90 road for a about a mile down a narrow gravel road.

My Western Home

 (also known as Home on the Range) 

 by Dr. Brewster Higley

Oh, give me a home where the Buffalo roam
Where the Deer and the Antelope play;
Where seldom is heard a discouraging word,
And the sky is not cloudy all day.

Chorus:

Home, home on the range! 

Where the deer and the antelope play. 

Where seldom is heard a discouraging word, 

And the sky is not clouded all day.

 

There are several other verses. One I particularly like is this one:

How often at night, when the heavens were bright,
With the light of the twinkling stars
Have I stood here amazed, and asked as I gazed,
If their glory exceed that of ours.

For one of the verses, I believe the poet took some liberties. There may be some hills in Smith County, but there are no mountains. And I had to look up curlews. Yes, it's a bird. 

I love the wild flowers in this bright land of ours,
I love the wild curlew’s shrill scream;
The bluffs and white rocks, and antelope flocks
That graze on the mountains so green.

However, as I stood at the cabin site, this next verse definitely sang true:

The air is so pure and the breezes so fine,
The zephyrs so balmy and light,
That I would not exchange my home here to range
Forever in azures so bright.

I may make light of a big Ball of Twine (though I definitely admire Cawker City's efforts for a little tourism). But I, like Dr. Higley, would not exchange my Home on the Range.

On our way home from Kearney, we took part in a little Nebraska tourism. We stopped at Runza for lunch. A runza is what we in Kansas call a bierock - hamburger, cabbage and seasonings inside yeast dough.  

I'll have more from our trip to Omaha with the girls to come. 

Then and Now

Isn't it funny how day by day nothing changes, but when you look back, everything is different?

C.S. Lewis 

 

How can the little girl who wanted to be a dolphin trainer just a few years ago now be graduating from 8th grade? How is it that we'll have a freshman granddaughter next year? How is it that she is old enough to drive us instead of us driving her?

 

There was no Willie the Wildcat nor caps and gowns like there was for her preschool graduation back in the day. But,  I guess we blinked and life happened. Kinley graduated from 8th grade at 8 AM May 21. (Yes, 8 AM!) There were 127 students in the school's Navigators Team. (There was another graduation ceremony with a similar number of students later in the morning for the other team. Coming from a small school, the numbers blow my mind.)

 

 

 

The afternoon before, Brooke was promoted from 5th grade, making way for middle school next year. She started kindergarten in 2020 in the midst of the Covid pandemic.  

 

 

Yes, she still had the handy, dandy sign made by her mom, but her classroom was in the basement at home. Back in that moment of time, she wanted to be a teacher. 

 

On Wednesday, she was among 90 classmates who said goodbye to elementary school.

 

Brooke's preschool graduation in May 2020.

  

No caps and gowns for her either. Maybe we could still see a glimpse of that little girl in that confident, maturing new 6th grader? 

 

 

 

 

I'm not sure what their current dreams for their futures are. But we've certainly been enjoying the present this spring. 

 

While the bulk of the girls' middle school tennis season was last fall, Kinley got to compete in a mixed doubles tennis tournament earlier this month. 

 

 

She and her partner got 2nd. 

 

 

Then, she got 2nd in her pool in the league singles tournament on May 6. 

 

In her "spare" time, she also went out for middle school track. She ran the hurdles ... and she didn't get hurt (the most important part).

 

 She high jumped. (I was not responsible for any of those genes.)

 

At various meets, she ran the mile and the 800. (Also not responsible for those genes.)

Tennis will be her sport in high school, so these final track meets will likely be her last. That's the difference between tiny schools and 6A schools. Students do more specialization. 

During the winter, we also got to watch Brooke play volleyball - with her mom as coach. It was amazing to see how much all the girls had improved from last year to this year. 

She played basketball, too.

Earlier this month, we went to Brooke's 5th grade music concert featuring recorders. Brooke told me and Grandma Christy that we could skip the concert. You know ... recorders and 5th graders? Yes, there was the requisite Hot Cross Buns, in both a traditional and a jazzy version. But who could turn down a chance to hear recorder renditions of Eye of the Tiger or Coldplay's Clocks? Contrary to pre-concert warnings, it was a good performance. 

 "The days are long, but the years are short." 

Long days are probably more a reality for parents than grandparents. But even for we grandparents, time races onward. 

 For my girls as you both leave behind the old and stride toward something new: 

Always remember that you are braver than you think, stronger than you believe, smarter than you realize and more loved than you can imagine. 

Thunderbird Legacy

The creation of Skyline Schools in 1967 meant closing the doors at four community schools in Pratt County.  The Byers Hornets, the Coats Bulldogs, the Cullison Owls and the Sawyer Eagles became the Skyline Thunderbirds. The old school colors would be traded in for Columbia Blue and White. 

My dad was president of the Board of Education when Skyline was formed. In April, he was recognized as the first inductee to the Skyline Schools Thunderbird Legacy award.

Back in the mid-1960s, the state of Kansas was mandating consolidation of rural schools.

"We had no say. If we didn't do something, the state was going to mandate it," said my dad, Bob Moore,  in an article in The Pratt Tribune in 2018 to commemorate Skyline's 50th anniversary.

Initially, the state was pushing county consolidation. That meant that the smaller school districts would be absorbed into the Pratt district. In 1964, rural voters overwhelmingly defeated a vote for county unification, with 1,063 rural patrons voting against and only 82 voting in favor.  

A board was elected in 1965 with representatives from all the small rural schools, with my dad as the first president. They began exploring the qualifications necessary to become a Unified School District (USD). The area had to cover at least 200 square miles, have a valuation of at least $2 million and have a student population of at least 400. Most importantly, they had to convince the rural patrons that combining into a unified school district was the way to go. 

"We (school board members) went to each town and talked to people in person," he said in the 2018 article. "We went to each school and presented our ideas. We took questions and took a vote at each meeting. It was favored by a great majority. ..." 

Not everyone was convinced.

"My doctor and my car dealer told me personally, 'You won't last five years,' " my dad recalled in the 2018 article.  

But with rural residents backing the plan, my dad and other board members toured other schools across the state, looking for designs and ideas that would ease the transition and provide the best possible education for students. The small schools were part of the Skyline League for athletic competition, so Skyline Schools became the logical choice for a name. They chose Columbia Blue and White for the colors to avoid any of the previous school colors. 

On an August day in 1967, some familiar faces filled the school bus as we traveled toward rural Pratt. Before, I had only 3 1/2 miles to ride from my farm home to Byers. Now, it was closer to 12 miles. I don't really remember the first day, but my mom always took a photo to commemorate the beginning of a new school year. 

5th Grade class at Skyline and our teacher Opal Hemphill  minus me. I guess I liked being the photographer rather than being in the photo back then, too

 

At Byers, I had only three people - counting me - in my 4th grade class. It was quite a change to have a classroom full of one grade level. 

It was an honor for my dad to have been chosen for the first Legacy award. All of us siblings were able to be at the gala.  

My siblings (l to r) Darci Webb, Lisa Bauer, me and Kent Moore

While my mom was never on the school board, she - and the other wives - certainly played a part in the success of the process behind the scenes.

 

As for my dad's doctor and car dealer, they were wrong. Skyline Schools is still going strong. 

Me in 1975 in my Skyline blue

 And several of the family members who attended the Skyline Gala are also Skyline graduates. 

 

Thanks to the committee for honoring my dad in this way! 

  

Mountain Vibes

 

I wouldn't have thought that "Mountain Vibes" would describe a location in Oklahoma. But, then again, I'd never been to southeastern Oklahoma until last weekend. 

Our family spent the extended Easter weekend near Broken Bow, Oklahoma. Technically, we were closer to Hochatown. 

Brent had been to the area before and found an Airbnb called Mountain Vibes north of Hochatown that we called our home-away-from-home for a few days. It came complete with a pickleball court (that also doubled as a basketball court).

There were several rousing games of pickleball during the weekend ... and even a round robin tournament on our last night there. 

It included a sauna. (Some people liked that feature more than others. Kinley and I both questioned why anyone would choose to get hot and sweaty by sitting in a small room, but to each their own.)

The hot tub got some good use.

 

And a firepit gave us a chance for night-before-we-depart s'mores. (If you haven't cracked open an Oreo and inserted a perfectly-browned campfire marshmallow between the two cookie layers, you should try it! Of course, the graham cracker version was great, too!)

All those options were available in a home that reminded us of a Colorado cabin.

The covered back deck

 

 It was located near Broken Bow Lake and Beavers Bend Marina. 

That lake access was supposed to lead to a guided fishing trip on Saturday morning for the guys. They had their Oklahoma fishing licenses ready to go, but lightning and heavy rain kept them off the lake. (We wish the rain had fallen at home, but that didn't happen.) That was really the only disappointment for the whole weekend.

 

  

Randy and I arrived a day before the rest of the crew. That gave Randy a chance to check out the Idabel Country Club for some golf (and reading for me).

It was pretty among the pines and other trees. 
 

Everyone but me went for a hike along the river. 

The Friends Trail in Beavers Bend State Park runs along the Lower Mountain Fork River. 

 

According to the AI Overview: This 1.5-mile loop trail, known for its scenic views and moderate difficulty, often runs beside the water, particularly near the Spillway Creek area below the Broken Bow Lake dam.  

I was proud of my clan, who sent me lots of great photos from the hike. 

 

 

Randy is still basking over Jill's comment that "not every 70-year-old could have done the hike."

We visited Hochatown a few times. For Saturday's lunch, we ate at Grateful Head Pizza. (Since it had just finished raining, everyone else vacationing there had the same idea.)

And we went bowling at Gutter Chaos Sunday afternoon. Randy told the crew that anyone who beat him would get a $10 bill. (He kept his money ... but barely.)

Randy and I ate at Shuck Me, a seafood place, the night before others arrived.

And we had some ice cream at Okie Girls Coffee and Ice Cream, where Randy found another friend, a picture he had to send to his breakfast buddies.

What a fun, memory-filled weekend with family!