ABCs of Our Summer

Amphibian Atrocity

Going out west has so many charms and notions of wonder in my mind that I often forget about the little adventures involved in achieving the grander goal of "A Road Trip out West". You have the big sky, the vast plains, the ability to see for miles and miles. We were charging out there with 250 horses (or the equivalent thereof) and breathing in the Nebraska plains after our family dinner at Perkins. We could see an entire thunderhead leading the approaching cold-front covering the sky like a mom shaking a blanket out over her child and allowing it to softly nestle into every nook of her child's curled up body. We began to see light flashing in the massive cloud at varying intervals. The herds of Black Angus were being led away from their grazing to shelter. As the sky grew more ominous we began to hear thunder coursing through our ears and overtaking the senses. The sun was setting behind the storm and rain pellets pummeled our van adding to the orchestra. Then we felt these bumps in the road and upon closer inspection we could see thousands of white spots on the road all caught up in their very own game of Frogger!!!!! We were witnessing the last split seconds of thousands of froggy lives!!! My hand instinctively covered my dropped jaw while the smell of death arrived. Death had replaced freshness. Horror had replaced awe. And we still had 2 more hours to think about the little creatures we had just sent to heaven. :)





BISON
I have noticed something about cows. They don't exercise very much. They don't seem to be the kind of animal that is just looking for some excitement while working on their grazing duties. They can be fun to look at the first couple times you drive by them, but then it just becomes another juicy steak in preparation. I only came upon these observations when we recently spent a couple of days observing Bison in Yellowstone. Bison move! They not only walk a lot more often, but they spontaneously break out running with or without reason. The herd is in constant motion and during mating season, when we saw them, males will frequently charge other males as they compete for territory and/or a partner. It is amazing to observe this behavior at those very convenient pull offs and they the herd is half a mile away. There is something about a single log barrier placed around only ten parking spaces that provides an enormous sense of security. We discovered, however, that Bison do not necessarily feel the need to remain only on green pastures, and a black road is no barrier in their eyes. We were stopped on the Yellowstone loop as a small herd of Bison decided to cross the street and do some of their bickering at the same time. We watched a full grown male flip over on his back (as if he was a feather) and ferociously rub his back on the ground kicking up a sand storm that can only compete with sand storms I have seen in the Middle East. Then he flipped back to his feet with the grace of a ballerina and started stomping the ground with his front hoof while looking through his brow at the road. There was a wide camper in front of us. My imagination was running. What could a Bison do to a vehicle? What should I do if someone gets hurt? How fast could our car get out of here? This mass of muscle was easily as tall as my six foot four inch husband. Did you know that a full grown Bison can run up to 30 miles per hour! Those things are athletic beasts! When we saw another full grown male running away on the other side of the road we were able to come to the conclusion that there was some territory protection happening. Just as we were catching our breath from that event, another male was walking beside our vehicle, a younger male. His head was still as wide as a standard front door. He had a "little" lady friend with him and decided to try to impress her about 6 inches from the back row of our van, where I was sitting. He started throwing his head around like a rock star on his guitar solo and got so excited he bucked his hind feet in the air. I could see he was about to throw his back to the ground or charge at any given moment and could only stand up in the van and yell at my husband to get this car out of here right now! It was either yell at my husband or somehow use that van to fight that bison! Mama Bear was about to be loosed!

Chevrolet

I have very fond memories of climbing into the back of my grandfather's 1940 Chevrolet for a ride. I remember how bouncy the seat was and thinking it would be an awesome bed to jump on. I remember the rush of fear I would feel at the fact that there were no seat belts in the car. I remember the sound of the engine cranking over as he turned the key and how he shifted the gears from the steering column. The old smell and the perfectly waxed paint. The round headlights and never ending curvatures, and yes, the suicide doors.

My grandfather still has this car, and it is still in awesome condition. While we visited I asked him to take my boys and Jay and I for a ride. He rolled out of his garage, pushed his aruuga horn, opened his suicide doors and and we rode simply for the sake of enjoyment.