Showing posts with label Wyoming. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Wyoming. Show all posts

Saturday, March 15, 2025

Public Lands Threatened

Sunset in the Potrillo Mountains, part of the Organ Mountains-Desert Peaks National Monument in New Mexico.
(Click images to view larger)

In late February, Ellen and I hiked into Aravaipa Canyon in the heart of Arizona’s Aravaipa Wilderness (BLM). A clear stream, unusual in the desert, flowed beneath cottonwood trees, leafed out to gather early-season Arizona sunshine. We disturbed a coati in one of them—it crept slowly to the ground and disappeared surprisingly quickly and a little comically into riparian vegetation. After a fun day of walking and exploring, we set up our tent under volcanic cliffs beside the stream and enjoyed miso soup, freeze-dried dinners, shortbread cookies, and a warm quiet evening under bright stars.

Volcanic cliffs above a side canyon in the Aravaipa Wilderness photographed during a February backpacking trip.

In mid-February, we car-camped with friends on the rim of the Kilbourne Hole, a volcanic maar crater in a remote part of the Organ Mountains-Desert Peaks National Monument. We’d spent the day finding petroglyphs and evidence of Pleistocene mammals near a volcanic cone. Our campsite commanded a view across the crater to the Riley Peaks, three high points in the Potrillo Mountains, one of several desert ranges in the Monument. The site had clearly been enjoyed by ORV users, and we spoke with two friendly guys from El Paso in a side-by-side when they stopped to enjoy the view. They were originally from Quebec, and it was surprising to hear French so close to the Mexican border.

Ellen with our friends Steve and Beth Buskirk on the rim of the Kilbourne Hole in the Organ Peaks-Desert Mountains National Monument. February 2025.

Earlier in February, we camped with our Laramie friend, Ed Sherline, in the Uva Mountains near the end of his bikepacking trip around the Desert Peaks. He'd covered sixty miles a day for five days circumnavigating much of the Monument and was feeling (and looking) a little grizzled when we met him on his last night. It was cold at night, but sunrise behind the Organs merited an early wake-up to enjoy layers of mountains and haze in the morning light. 

The Organ Mountains at sunrise taken from a camp in the Uva Mountains.

Those are just three of many experiences I had on public lands in February. My life and the lives of many of my friends have been enriched by these lands for well over a half century. Going back further, my father's family loved the West, and tales of their trips from Dearborn, Michigan to the Tetons in the 1940s drew me to them starting in the late-1970s, changing the course of my life. How many American family histories have been influenced by our federal lands? How many of our lives have been changed?

My father, Ed, and his mother, Nelle, on a trip west from Michigan in the 1940s to visit Grand Teton National Park, at that time less than twenty years old. The photo was probably taken by my grandfather, Ken.

In the U.S. today, few issues are nonpartisan, but protection of public lands unites people from across the political spectrum. The freedom to vacation in National Parks, explore National Monuments, hunt and fish in National Forests, birdwatch in Wildlife Refuges, or wander through remote BLM lands is fundamental to our way of life, yet we win public land battles, never the war. Who are the legislators braying loudly for the sale or transfer of federal (our) lands even while their constituents (we) object?

Ultimately, they are driven by special interests that benefit from reduced regulations so that they can more easily exploit our lands for their profit, meaning that it’s worth their while to contribute campaign funds and pay lobbyists. Oil and gas, mining, timber, and large corporate agricultural interests profit while the rest of us stand to lose our heritage, our primary means of recreation, and our avenue for enjoying the open spaces about which Westerners, including many of those trying to take them away, wax poetic with stories of free-roaming cowboys and Big Sky Country. 

In 2024, Utah filed a lawsuit at the U.S. Supreme Court that would have required the federal government to sell or “dispose of” more than 18 million acres of our public lands in Utah despite Utah’s agreement upon being granted statehood to “forever disclaim all right and title” to federal public lands. Twelve states supported this attempt even in the face of broad opposition by the public, but many did not. Martin Heinrich, a U.S. Senator from New Mexico, where I live now, stood against this, declaring, "We must stand united against this un-American land grab to ensure that our public lands remain accessible and protected for future generations. Our public lands are not for sale. Full stop." Thankfully, early this year, the Supreme Court declined to hear the case, a battle won while the war continues.

Ellen and our friend, Bay, admiring pictographs in the Bears' Ears National Monument established by Obama, shrunk by Trump, re-grown by Biden, and now vulnerable again. Of course, before Europeans, all lands in N. America were public. Cultural resources like these pictographs deserve to remain protected.

The Wyoming legislature was one of the supporters of Utah’s suit. I lived in Wyoming for nearly 45 years and spent countless weeks in its spectacular public lands along with many of my fellow Wyomingites of all political stripes. Recently, Wyoming legislators tried to pass a resolution transferring much of the federal land in Wyoming to the State. Fortunately, this resolution was defeated even in one of the reddest states in the U.S. underlining bipartisan support for protection of public land. Other efforts in Wyoming this year attempted to limit the right of private landowners to transfer land or land rights to the federal government. Many supporters of these measures in the Wyoming House are members of the Freedom Caucus. WTF?

Sunrise in the Honeycomb Buttes--BLM land in Wyoming's Red Desert. 2013.

Public lands continue to be threatened. NPS, BLM, USFS, and U.S. FWS employees are being fired, National Monument boundaries are in jeopardy, and special interests advocate for sale or transfer of our land. Many across our political spectrum are fighting these threats, but many others are complicit, and the war is never won. We can help by writing letters, attending rallies, donating funds, volunteering, and voting. Don’t let the few take away or degrade lands that belong to us all.

Gated and posted private ranchland adjacent to the Gila National Forest in New Mexico. Private landowners have the right to keep people off of their land, but we don't want our public lands to become private and locked away from us.

Tuesday, November 15, 2022

What Rhymes with Route 20?

 

School west of Lusk at dusk.
(Click images to view larger)

You can get your kicks on Route 66, and Route 50 traverses enough desert in Nevada to be called “The Loneliest Road in America,” but other major U.S. highways either don’t rhyme well or are more social. In the U.S., coast-to-coast highway numbers end in “0”, increasing from north to south, but there are exceptions. U.S. 10 originally extended only from Detroit to Seattle, but it was considered important enough to earn its number. Many older routes have been subsumed by interstate highways, but you can still follow long stretches where small towns and remnants of 1950s motor culture mingle with newer development. 

 

I spent a weekend photographing in Western Nebraska last January (2022) (see blog post), and a good deal of time last summer driving back and forth to the East Coast (blog post), avoiding freeways when I had enough time. Those trips piqued my interest, so Ed Sherline and I (see his excellent photography and Wind River rephotography project) headed to Western Nebraska for a weekend in early November. We made our way east along Hwy 20 from near Glendo, Wyoming into the Nebraska sandhills to Valentine before turning south and then east towards home on Hwy. 26, itself a major route extending from Nebraska to Oregon. 

 

Ed and I get out once or twice a year to shoot photos. It’s an opportunity to commiserate about politics, talk about trips we’ve done and trips we’d like to do, nerd-out about photography without boring our families, eat unhealthy food, and drink unhealthy drink. Even though we stop at the same places, we always come home with different images. The photographer David DuChemin made the point in a recent blog post that even though “it’s all been done,” each of us brings a unique point of view to our photographs, something to strive for.


Shawnee, Wyoming cafe, Hwy. 20.

Abandoned trailer west of Lusk, Wyoming.

Lost Bar, Lost Springs, Wyoming.

Playground, Lost Springs, Wyoming.

Garage, Harrison, Nebraska.

Abandoned house east of Harrison, Nebraska, beside Hwy. 20.

Sunflower along Hwy. 20, Western Nebraska.

Garage, Hwy. 20, Western Nebraska.

Truck detail, Hwy. 20, Western Nebraska.

Steering wheel, Hwy. 20, Western Nebraska.

Grain elevator, Hwy. 20, Nebraska.

Abandoned motel, Hwy. 26, Western Nebraska.

Old downtown, Henry, Nebraska.







Thursday, January 20, 2022

Bighorn Basin Photographs

A farm building in the southern Bighorn Basin, Wyoming.
(click images to view larger)

I started this post a little over three years ago and never finished it after getting wrapped up with new (then) work responsibilities. Now retired, I'm cleaning up old blog drafts, and I enjoy these images enough to publish this without much text. For those who aren't familiar with the geography, the Bighorn Basin occupies a large area in north-central Wyoming between the Bighorn Mountains to its east and the Absaroka and Beartooth Mountains and Yellowstone National Park to its west. The Owl Creek and Bridger Mountains wrap around the southern edge of the basin and the Pryor Mountains rise just over the Montana border to the north. The basin is sparsely populated and agricultural where there is water to irrigate and very dry elsewhere, occupied by sparse shrublands and a lot of saltbush. It's a beautiful place to explore.

Wyohistory.org has an excellent overview of the basin and its history that I won't paraphrase here. The photos in this post were collected during several excursions.

Grain elevator, Greybull.

Trees, Northern Bighorn Basin.

Gate. Greybull Livestock Auction.

Trailer with statues. Greybull.

Boulder, Red Gulch. Eastern Bighorn Basin.

Stop and Proceed.

Rags. Industrial area, Greybull.

Greybull Livestock Auction.

Chairs. Greybull Livestock Auction.

160-180 million year old dinosaur track, Red Gulch. Species unknown (Therapod?)

Chute, Greybull Livestock Auction

Chute, Greybull Livestock Auction

Greybull Livestock Auction.

Trees and wind leave their mark, Greybull Livestock Auction.

Badlands, Eastern Bighorn Basin.




Thursday, March 3, 2016

Winter in Eastern Wyoming

Abandoned farmhouse and cows north of Manville, Wyoming. January 2016/
(Click images to view larger)

In January, before classes and teaching started again, I drove from Laramie to Eastern Wyoming, spending the night in Lusk, where my friend, Doug Scambler, works for a couple of days every other week as a child psychologist, before circling back home via Guernsey the next morning. Doug generously shared his hotel room and the inside information that Lusk: population 1,567, has a pizza place, called The Pizza Place, with perhaps the best pizza in Wyoming, thanks to its pizza-savvy owners, transplants from Chicago.

I started the trip in early morning light, driving first through Sybille Canyon and then to Wheatland for less superlative food--a fast food burger--before heading north and then east to photograph the small towns of Shawnee, Lost Springs, and Manville along Highway 18. I arrived in Lusk with a little time to spare before meeting Doug for dinner.

Ten miles to the east, a dark cloud of smoke billowed up from the prairie, so I drove out to investigate. The smoke originated from a ranch, recently purchased by a rancher who, with his son, stopped to talk with me while I took some pictures (none great) of the evening light streaming through the smoke. His family had been in the area for generations, but he had purchased this place recently and was burning brush and old piles of junk that the previous owner had left behind he told me, shaking his head.

The conversation circled around to all of the abandoned farms in that part of Wyoming and the hardscrabble history of the place. He recommended a book called “TheChildren’s Blizzard,” about a sudden prairie storm in 1888 that killed hundreds of children trying to get home from school. I related my experience of seeing the impact of the flu of 1918 memorialized in rural cemeteries across Wyoming. He told me that during that flu, his grandmother had walked with his mother to a neighbor’s house to check on her, afraid to go in for fear of germs but shouting through to the open window to ask if she was alright. The neighbor replied that she was fine, but her child was dead. It’s hard to imagine that life could be so raw and desperate just 100 years ago, though I know that people today have their own struggles.

Chance encounters on road trips are often the most memorable and interesting, and I’m often surprised by how willing locals are to tell stories to strangers passing through. If I weren't such an introvert, I'd spend more time trying to seek out these encounters. Instead, I take pictures of places where there are very few people.

Old boxcars south of Bosler, Wyoming, with the Laramie Range in the background.

Piles of dirt along the Union Pacific Railroad.

Fallow field, Sybille Canyon.

Shawnee, Wyoming: Established in 1887 and now nearly abandoned.

Lost Springs!

The Lost Bar in Lost Springs.

Lost Springs, settled in the 1880s and named for a spring that nobody could find was originally a railroad town with 200 residents.  In the 2010 census, it's population was 4 (Wikipedia).

Classic architecture in Lusk, Wyoming.

Lusk is named for a cattleman named Frank Lusk, who established a ranch in the area in 1880 when Colorado got too crowded for him. He had contemplated moving farther east in Colorado towards the Nebraska line, but on an earlier trip had been impressed with the people living in Wyoming, so he decided to go there instead (Wikipedia). 

A shed in Lusk. A catastrophic flood damaged Lusk in June 2015, and perhaps is responsible for this end of the shed being bowed in.

Flood damage, Lusk.

Flood damage and bathtub rings, Lusk.

House and barns, Jay Em, Wyoming

Jay Em was originally a watering hole along the Texas Trail, and the town was established between 1912 and 1915 to support ranchers in the area. It's named after a ranch called the J Rolling M, owned by Jim Moore and established in the late 1800s (Wikipedia).

Garage, Jay Em.

Railyard, Guernsey, Wyoming.