Bridge Over Peace Creek Water

 

You remember the story of the Three Billy Goats Gruff from your childhood, right? The three billy goats wanted to get from one meadow to the next. But, in order to make the trip, they needed to cross a wooden bridge with a big troll stationed under the bridge, wanting to eat them up. 

The little goat's hooves went Trip-Trap, Trip-Trap as he crossed the wooden bridge. He told the troll something bigger and tastier would come along. So, the troll allowed him passage to the other side. 

The middle-sized goat's hooves made a Trap-Rap, Trap-Rap sound as he crossed the bridge. He, too, did a bit of fast-talking and outmaneuvered the ravenous troll, throwing the bigger goat under the bus - or under the bridge, so to speak.

And the big goat hammered out a Stomp-Tromp, Stomp-Tromp as he crossed the bridge and also outwitted the lurking troll. (In some versions, there's violence involved and the troll's untimely demise. We'll just keep it to the PG version for our purposes and say that all the billy goats arrived and were able to graze on greener pastures.)

The wooden bridge over Peace Creek always made me think of that story, especially when its planks were struck by dozens of cattle hooves pounding their way across it during one of our many cattle-moving days. 

 

   

The bridge - located a couple of miles north of our house - has been a conduit from 4th Street Road to our house for me for 40 years. It was the start of the route to visit the library in Hutchinson and other destinations there. But, more importantly, it was the route to get to much of our farm ground and pastures.

Randy grew up less than a half mile from the bridge, so it's been a life-long centerpiece for him. Besides being a "thoroughfare" for our farming operation, it was a childhood location for the Fritzemeier kids to meet the Hornbaker cousins for a little neighborly fun.  

This was a photo taken by my late brother-in-law, Lyle. It shows part of the bridge in fall.

 

When Randy's brother Lyle died in September 2020, I posted the photo above, and mentioned the excursions to the Peace Creek bridge. I got this response from one of those neighbor "kids:"

Oh the stories to tell of deeds done here! The famous rocket tree, picking leeches from between our toes, the nest of owlets beneath the bridge, fishing with string and a safety pin and never understanding why we were such unlucky fishermen, and the hundreds of miles racing our bikes down those sandy roads.

Pam Hornbaker Turner

Since April 22 this spring, the Reno County Public Works department has been working on the bridge, so we've had to detour from our normal route. 

As I looked for photos of the bridge, I realized I've probably taken more photos from the bridge than I've taken of the bridge. 

Taken from the bridge on a spring/summer day.

October 2018, when we got an overabundance of rain.

 

A winter scene from the bridge.

But a Kim's County Line blog search did yield several images of this important way we've gotten from Point A to Point B throughout the years - spring, summer, fall and winter.  

One of the public works guys told Randy on Tuesday, August 5, that it would only be a couple more weeks before they are done. None of us who live along the route are going to bet on that completion date. But I guess it's something they can aspire to, right?

Photo by Randy - May 4, 2025

Since the April start date, Randy has taken periodic trips to check their progress. His first one was taken on May 4.

Shelby, and her husband, Justin, bought Melvin and Marie's house. Shelby, too, has chronicled the bridge progress on her Facebook page.

Photo - Shelby Bremer

 Her first photo was taken on May 9.

Photo by Shelby Bremer

Shelby's photo on May 14.

Photo by Shelby Bremer

 Shelby's photo on May 21.

Photo by Shelby Bremer

 And Shelby's photo on July 11 (above).

The photo above was taken by Randy on July 17.

On August 5, Randy watched as they craned one of the spans into place.

 

 That's when the worker optimistically said the bridge would be in place in the next couple of weeks. 

Morning of August 7, 2025

 

 

 

 

 

They'd made a lot of progress when we checked again on August 7.  

However, no longer will there be that clomping sound as cattle walk over the bridge. With this rendition of the bridge, there's no wood. I'm guessing it will hold up better in the long run.

 

We neighborhood people are definitely ready for its completion.  Don't get me wrong: I'm glad they worked on it. Every time I drove the heavy feed truck across it or watched the combine traverse it, I hoped it would stay standing.  

2013 photo accompanying blog post on beaver gnawing down a tree there. Click HERE.

 

 

The wooden bridge was central to many of our cattle-moving endeavors. During one of those times, I had my life flash before my eyes tumbling off that bridge in a 4-wheeler accident in 2019. 

Randy has lived and worked near the bridge for his entire life - nearly 70 years now. This current remodel is the third time he recalls that road crews have worked on it. 

After one of those rebuilds when Randy was about junior high age, Randy's dad asked if he could have some of the wood stripped from the bridge. 

 

That request was granted, and Melvin used it to build feed bunks in the winter pasture by the bridge. 

The bridge looks a lot different, both on top and underneath, with this latest version.

 

2025 version - August 7

On one of Randy's earlier expeditions to view progress, workers had explained that they had driven i-beams into the ground until they reached solid rock. 

 

 

The beams were in 30-foot sections. The workers would weld additional beam on top and keep pounding it in. They reached the rock at 90 feet.

 

 

Maybe this current version will outlive us. We'll see. It has to be finished first. 

Who Needs the Lottery?

I don't play the lottery. So why am I taking a photo of a PowerBall ticket?

It was a gift from someone who said I had to be the luckiest person he knew. I really am fortunate. But I am not going to attribute my good fortune last week to "luck." Instead, I've been thanking God for His protection.

I had a 4-wheeler accident last Monday (January 14) while we were moving cattle. I probably should have been hurt badly. Instead, I'm just a little bruised and battered.

I wasn't going to tell anyone about it. I hate mistakes.This first-born perfectionist especially hates my  mistakes. So I was going to cover it up. I told Randy to tell the other two people who witnessed the accident that they were to keep their mouths shut.

As far as I know, they did. But one of them is the purchaser of the lottery ticket. He stopped Randy on the road the next day and said it was for me ... for the aforementioned luck.

The lottery ticket was not a winner. In fact, it didn't have even one matching number. But that was OK. I didn't think my "deliverance" from major harm had anything to do with "luck" anyway.

It took me two days to confess the accident to anyone in my family. I took a backwards vault off the Peace Creek bridge with the 4-wheeler. It's not easy to get the 4-wheeler into reverse. My inexperience with the reverse button and the bridge location collided. However, all that rain and mud we've been frustrated by likely helped cushion my fall. I vaguely remember pushing the 4-wheeler away from me as I fell, and it didn't land on top of me. That helped, too.

I had some bruises - inside and out - and I wasn't too comfortable for a few days. But even the bruises are fading now.

Farming is a dangerous job. Sometimes it's dangerous because we make stupid mistakes. Sometimes animals don't react the way we anticipate. We are around big machinery and moving parts and chemicals, and accidents happen. We're sometimes tired and impatient - two things that can lead to mistakes.

I could have just showed the photos of moving the cattle. Believe me: I considered it. We moved two groups that day and things went well until the end. We had one "escapee," and I was trying to go help retrieve that one left behind when the accident happened.

I've been privately thanking God for His protection for a week. If I'm not willing to say that and to show all sides of farming, then I'm not being an honest representative for agriculture or for my faith.

In the adult Sunday School class I facilitate, the chapter theme last week was "Revealing Authenticity." Hmmm ... I have to admit it was another nudge to be honest. One of the quotes from the book, "#struggles: Following Jesus in a Selfie-Centered World," was from Mother Teresa. Really? Who can argue with Mother Teresa?

Honesty and transparency make you vulnerable. Be honest and transparent anyway.

In this world of Instagram filters and pithy "tweets," it's become our "norm" to edit our images and our words. We crop our photos to show our best features. We only post photos of ourselves and our families when everyone looks their best. We write, then edit, then edit some more until we have what we hope will translate into the maximum number of "likes."

Author of the book Craig Groeschel says: "The more filtered our lives become - the more we show others only the "me" we want them to see - the more difficulty we have being authentic. ... If we can't be real, are we really living?"

So here you have me: Unfiltered and authentic. I am not the perfect farm wife. I'm far from it. But you know that saying about getting back on your horse after getting bucked off? I'll be back on the 4-wheeler again. (But I will probably do everything in my power to keep from having to use the reverse. Just saying. And just being real. For sure, I won't use it if I'm on a bridge.)

Here are the photos and the story of what happened before the accident, It really was a pretty day: 

There's at least one in every crowd. It's the guy (or gal) who doesn't join the rest. You know the type: It's the one who is insistent about not following the carefully-prescribed plan of action. While others follow a straight line toward a common destination, that obstinate non-rule follower will willfully mess up the carefully-detailed plan of action.

 

This cow who didn't walk down the cattle trail is kind of like that toddler who looks over at his/her mother while doing the very thing that she'd just said not to do. It's like the kindergarten student who can't seem to remain in single file on the way to the lunch room. Honestly, these cows were well-behaved.

Once we got them moving in the same direction with the 4-wheelers, they went willingly.

Cattle - like humans - are creatures of habit. It took awhile for them to realize that the electric fence was no longer there. Even the enticement of a big round bale of tasty hay didn't have them crossing the line where the fence had been.

They finally crossed the "demilitarized" zone.

And with a little urging, they were across the road.

We ran them into the corrals until the roads froze enough to move them. Thankfully, that happened on Saturday. It was before the heifers started calving. While the "due date" is January 28, we had our first baby calves by January 23 last year.

Since there's another cold snap with potential flurries or a "wintry mix" coming, it will probably happen soon. Randy is already making trips to "the girls" to see if we have any early arrivals for the Class of 2019. Alert: Cute calf pictures soon to come!