A Trip to the Fishing Hole

 

"Your chariot awaits."

Cinderella may have had a pumpkin-shaped coach and a fancy new dress for her outing. I get a loud John Deere Gator and old blue jeans on the way to a fishing hole.

Rain in June finally had the water in the Ninnescah River pasture flowing. This old Cinderella and her Prince much prefer nature's paintings over a fancy crowded ballroom anyway.

We didn't catch a thing - other than a feast for the eyes.

The rain had refreshed the pasture landscape to a verdant green.

Many years ago, hunters created a dam at the Ninnescah, and the spillway always fascinates me. I duck-walked on the rounded pipe that forms a bridge, holding on to the railing. Rushing water gave a feeling of vertigo, but I snapped a few photos before carefully making my way back. No old ladies were harmed in the snapping of this photo.

However, I preferred being back on solid ground where I could enjoy the sights and sounds without fear of falling in!

I did put a line in for awhile.

Patience is not my virtue. I ended up wandering around taking photos instead, leaving Randy to keep trying his luck. 

He had some nibbles, but no catfish dinner for us that day!

I did have some success in the beauty department, though.

These may be pretty yellow flowers, but I don't like the "stickers" attached.

These itty-bitty blue flowers - erect day flowers - are some of my pasture favorites. 

Even Randy was ready to pack up the fishing gear after awhile. But we still enjoyed a Gator ride through the pasture.

It was the very definition of "pastoral."

Even though we aren't the "official" cattle checking crew, we still had to drive through them. 

 It appeared they were enjoying their summer vacation spot.

 Cattle are curious creatures.

We made our usual stop at the bridge, too. It was nice to see some water flowing.

That was a Saturday morning well spent! I came home and made something other than fish for lunch. And that was OK, too.

Family Ties: Going to Pasture

Life can be like a winding river ... or, in this case, ... a meandering creek. 

In 1900, Albert Brinkman bought acreage along the Rattlesnake Creek in Stafford County, Kansas. Brinkman, who was a great-great-great uncle of Randy's, paid about $4 an acre. Originally in a tract of 1,040 acres, 560 acres remain in the Fritzemeier family. 

Today, Randy owns the pasture, along with his cousin, Don Fritzemeier. On May 1, we delivered cow-calf pairs and a bull to graze for the summer on the native pasture. Traditionally, we don't move cattle to the Big Pasture before May 1. Randy says that's because it his grandpa and his great-uncles wanted to keep it fair for everyone. So our Rattlesnake pasture delivery marked the final group of cattle to move to summer pasture this year.

 

Randy helping direct the trailer into place to unload at the corrals. Since it takes multiple loads to transport the cows and calves to the pasture, we keep them in the corrals until they have all arrived. That way, the mamas and babies are able to pair up before we let them out into the pasture.

These babies were born in January and February. It's their first visit to this pasture along the Rattlesnake. But maybe their moms remember from other years.

The next day, we went back to check on the herd. It looked like they were taking their Sunday afternoon nap.

And I wanted to take some new photos of a sign we got about 20 years ago, identifying this pasture as a Farm Bureau Century Farm. 

 

With a trailer attached and work to do, we didn't take time to snap pictures on the bridge as we made the delivery. But as I stood on the bridge and looked east the next day, I marveled at the picture postcard beauty that Randy's family has been privileged to nurture for 121 years. 

Randy has been making the journey to the pasture since he was a little boy. He rode shotgun as his Grandpa Clarence and his Dad Melvin delivered calves to the pasture.

Two generations ago, Randy's Grandpa Clarence owned the pasture with his brothers, Ed and Harve. 

This is an undated photo of Randy's Grandpa, Clarence Fritzemeier, with a bull. The back of the photo has written (in Randy's Grandma Ava's handwriting): "He looks like he knew he was going to be sold."

Things have changed markedly in those 120+ years, whether talking farming or the world in general. So having a tie to the past is unusual in this disposable world we live in today. 

County Line file photo

I miss the cottonwoods that used to line the road that's not much better than a cow path. I understand the reasons for taking them down several years ago, but I miss seeing those cottonwoods that were probably there when Albert Brinkman bought the ground so long ago. 

July 2013 - This was before the township tore down most of the cottonwoods along the road.

 Below, here's a September 2018 photo, which shows that most of the trees are gone.

But even without the stately old cottonwoods, there is plenty of beauty to enjoy. On days like that Sunday, I marveled at God's handiwork on display and felt so blessed to have been a little part of it for 40 years.

The Big Pasture - as Randy's family has always called it - seems like a good place to spend your summer vacation, especially if we get enough rain to keep the grass green and the Rattlesnake filled.

 

Do you like old photos? Here's another blog post about the Rattlesnake Pasture, along with more family history photos. More about the cottonwoods can be found here.

 

To Greener Pastures

 

Some days are just like this: They seem to have a little extra organic matter.

Honestly, the first couple of days of moving cattle to summer pasture is not reflected by the unfortunate, messy circumstances for No. 100, our first baby calf born this winter. Those in first place get their comeuppance eventually, I suppose.

Here is No. 100 in cleaner circumstances, soon after its birth in January.

In fact, driving the cows and calves from the Peace Creek pasture to the corrals a half mile away went smoother than it's ever gone before.

The pairs came out of the pasture and clomped their way over the wooden bridge.

 

And they went down the road, never once taking a snack break in the lush green wheat along the way. It helped that a neighbor had just fenced off his wheat field with electric fence. I don't think they realized there was an open buffet as they got closer to the corrals. 

The biggest problem was the blustery wind. We ended up with a face full of dirt as we followed the procession to the corrals.  

But after we got done sorting mamas and babies for their separate chauffeured rides to the Ninnescah pasture, there was a little time for some baby portraits while I waited on Randy to get the trailers hooked up.

 

It will be awhile before we see these faces in close proximity again.

They'll be checking out greener pastures - literally.

 But not before a little nourishment to explore after being reunited with mama.

 

 

Milk - it does a body good (as the old ad slogan used to say).

We'll move the final group to the Big Pasture on Saturday, May 1. In the meantime, it's corn planting time.