Pot of Gold? Wheat Harvest 2026

Photo taken Saturday night - June 13, 2026

 

It's not a year when the wheat crop is like a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. But the sun has set on the 2026 wheat harvest. 

June 4, 2026

As my brother aptly described of his harvest in Pratt County, "Wheat 2026 is in the bin. Just didn’t fill the bin."

We don't have the final figures in. The Millers have the wheat custom cut by Frederick Harvesting out of Alden. They started cutting on us last Thursday and finished on Saturday. We are always amazed at how quickly it goes when a custom crew is involved. Back when we were farming full-time, it took a minimum of 10 days to get everything cut ourselves. It often stretched out further with weather delays and breakdowns.

You can barely see the third combine in the dust behind the grain cart.

 

But, when there are three combines in the field with 40-foot headers, things go quickly. (The one combine we owned at the end of our active farming (2022) was 35 feet. Randy says he thought that was big at the time.) 

With a custom crew racing on to the next customer's fields, you often don't get the scale tickets immediately, so we don't have the yield-per-acre numbers yet. 

But it was a year when we didn't get timely rains during the time when the wheat heads were filling, so we knew it wouldn't be a "pot of gold" year for our golden crop. It was a dry winter in our area. Until two weeks ago, we were in a swath of Central Kansas in extreme drought. Now, we're in an area classified as severe drought. 

Randy rode along with one of the combine operators a few times. Saturday morning, we spent quite awhile just watching the action.

Two combines were cutting during most of the time we were there, with a third broken down. 

But they eventually got it running, too, taking even bigger swaths through the fields. 

We were glad they got to our fields when they did. Weeds were starting to emerge, brought on by June rains. Those rains weren't beneficial to the wheat, but it was extremely helpful to alfalfa fields, pastures and fall crops. 

Still, we anticipate that the yields will be a little higher than we initially predicted. 

But time - and those scale tickets - will tell.

Speaking of pots of gold: Our neighbor Gary called us Saturday night and asked if we'd seen the double rainbow to the east. Our house is surrounded by trees, so we had not. But with his call, we hurriedly put on shoes and went down the road for a better view.

And what a view it was! 

 We had never seen a double rainbow that lasted so long and was so vivid. What a treat!

 We watched until the clouds swallowed up the rainbow.

 The photos don't do it justice. What a blessing to see an unobstructed view!

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!