What drought and an invasive Asian exotic can do in a hard winter– all this and zero at night, at Lee Henderson’s where we chase things- photos from Lee. That is his house on the right in the third pic; in the first, that fencerow is likely higher than your head. Ranching for a living, like old age, is not for sissies.
I once drove out to the Sand Creek Massacre site, out in far eastern Colorado. I then headed north, hitting US40 at Cheyenne Wells and heading west again. Though the morning had been clear, by afternoon I could see off to the west that weather was brewing over the mountains and heading east. By the time I got to Wild Horse it was starting to look stormy, and was very windy. I turned onto Hwy 94 at Aroya, and crested the hill overlooking the plains, back toward the mtns. The view was amazing, it looked like I was at the edge of the ocean. The entirety of the plains, as far as the eye could see, looked like waves, everything in constant motion. It was biblical. I then went aways down the hill onto the edge of the plain, and discovered that the ocean was of tumbleweeds, and the whole dang thing was MOVING. And I drove into it. LOL It was awful! I felt like I was in a bad sci fi movie, conflating tumbleweeds with triffids. I did finally make it out the far side, but I had tumbleweeds stuck in the grill, and under the car being dragged on the pavement. Horrible sound.
I once saw a horror movie about tumbleweed. This could've been the set for it.
Burning tumbleweeds is one of life's great unheralded satisfactions. Lee must have had the grand blaze of all the world!
That's a goodly pile; out here in Kansas we often find roads drifted shut with tumbleweeds. A few years ago a fella out hunting thought he could make it through and got stuck, then lit the place on fire with a hot tailpipe. He got out, but lost his truck and several guns, and the ammo explosions lasted quite a while!
Gerry and I once ran into a tumbleweed blizzard while hunting sharp-tails in far eastern WY. The wind was blowing about 40 mph and we hunted into the wind between rows of old Russian Olives. The tumbleweeds would come in waves – and the dogs would take off chasing the tumble weeds until we could get them to hear a whistle through the gale. Amazingly, we did kill a couple of birds that day. When we got back to the truck it was completely buried.
Gerry and I once ran into a tumbleweed blizzard while hunting sharp-tails in far eastern WY. The wind was blowing about 40 mph and we hunted into the wind between rows of old Russian Olives. The tumbleweeds would come in waves – and the dogs would take off chasing the tumble weeds until we could get them to hear a whistle through the gale. Amazingly, we did kill a couple of birds that day. When we got back to the truck it was completely buried.