environment

 

Moron Greenies

 

          Saw a story the other day that the folks of Denver were crying about the Natural gas fired power plants.  They said the natural gas fired plants were polluting their air, nothing specific, just that the power plant was polluting their air.  There were not studies cited and no specific pollutants, they just made the statement that their air was being polluted.  Since they made the statement, they expect people to accept their assumption/opinion as being fact. 

 

          Natural gas fired power plants are probably one of the cleanest sources of energy and possibly a great benefit to the environment.  Outside of carbon dioxide and water vapor, a gas fired plant has almost no emissions or particulates. 

 

          Water vapor is harmless and carbon dioxide is beneficial to plants.  As we need oxygen to breathe, plants need carbon dioxide to breathe.  Plants inhale carbon dioxide and exhale oxygen. 

 

          Talking to a farm manager few years ago, he mentioned that to stimulate plant growth in the greenhouse to would add carbon dioxide.  For the richer the air was in carbon dioxide, faster the plant grew and the healthier it grew. 

 

So one can deduce from a statement like that, that power plants enhance the environment.  For the richer the ambient air is in carbon dioxide, the better the plant growth is.  In support of this, I read about a study done in Europe by various universities, that the world’s vegetation had increased by 17% since the beginning of the industrial age, early 1800;s. 

 

It would appear that the greenhouse gas is actually beneficial to the environment.  Because as the world’s vegetation increased to did its food supply.  With a growing population, the food supply needs to grow along with number of people. 

 

So the question is, is greenhouse gas bad for the environment?  In my opinion, I would say greenhouse gasses are good for us.   For years, pundits have been saying we are going to perish because of the climate changes brought about by greenhouse gas emissions. 

 

With all of the alarmist statements over the past 50 years, the balance of gasses in the atmosphere has hardly varied. 

 

Oh, I was a biology and chemistry major when I started university. So what to do.  Personally not much, just don’t abuse things and have a good stewardship of the earth’s resources. 

Galatea, Colorao

 

Galatea, Colorado

 

Galatea was a Railroad town established by the Missouri Pacific railroad as it built west.  As the railroad moved across southern Colorado, they began naming their stops in alphabetical order.  And the G stop was named Galatea. 

 

Like many of the RR stops, Galatea faded into memory.  A few building still stand on the former town site, along with some trees.   Out along the tracks are a few pieces of concrete where the depot, etc had been. 

 

Couple miles NE is the town cemetery and there are a few headstones among the overgrown weeds. 

 

Galatea is located in a dry harsh area and is not easy to eke out a living.  There are still a few souls that live in the area scratching a living from the dirt.  Yet the dirt blows real easy here and in spots are the drifts of blow dirt.  The rails had been silent for years, with a new owner, the iron wheels clatter over the rails again. 

 

The Missouri Pacific was not the first RR to go through the area.  In the 1870’s, the Kansas Pacific built a branch line through here on their way to Ft Lyon and the Pacific Ocean. 

 

The Arkansas Valley Railroad was short lived.  About ten years later the rails were pulled when the KP went into receivership.  During that time, freight traffic from the Santa Fe Trail was being loaded on the AV RR and going East.  Besides freight trains, there was the daily passenger train, it was a busy RR. 

 

Today there is no indication that another railroad had been the area.  The old right of way has been plowed up for farming.  Further north, towards Kit Carson, portions of the grade can still be seen in the pastures. 

 

Today the silence of Galatea is ruffled by the breezes that flow over the land.  The greeting committee is either the owl or the buzzard. 

Ghost Post Office

 

Damascus, Colorado

 

Damascus, Colorado, was a small Post Office, operated out of a home at the turn of this past century.  The home site was located on the banks of Rush Creek in far south eastern Lincoln County. 

 

Out there in the ranchers pasture, among the trees a few structures can be seen.  Nearby is another ranch house and some barns and out buildings.  According to the old map, a wagon road went through the area, near Damascus.  It is a land of open spaces, Population density is maybe one person per 5 square miles. 

 

It appears the wagon road to Hugo, a railroad town during the 1899’s and 1900’s.  From Hugo, the mail and express was delivered to the ranchers in the area and maybe trading posts.  From Hugo, about 60 miles away, the drayage service would have delivered them mail to Damascus and other PO’s along the route. 

 

When I journeyed looking for Damascus, I had no expectations of what I would find and not much did I find.  I turned south from Boyero, making small dust cloud as I bounced along the dirt road.  About 4very miles or so I would pass a ranch house, otherwise it was open country.  Here an untouched land, much like when the buffalo roamed the prairie.  The only changes were the roads and fences.  The buffalo had been replaced by cattle to graze the grasses. 

 

There were scores of different birds, falcons, eagles, hawks, larks and you name em.  The occasional antelope could be seen on the ridges, watching the intruder, deer cautiously watcher the passer by, ground squirrels scurried off the road and coyote sauntered along the ditch.  Here was a land with few changes, so I settled in for the journey. 

 

Soon I was at my destination, well almost.  The road curved at the fence and beyond the fence went the ruts.  Over there in the trees was Damascus Post Office.  I followed the road around the curve and across Rush Creek.  There was a small trickle of water in the creek, some deer were lounging in the cool grasses on the banks.

 

I paused and did a 360 look about, There was a ranch house over there and some cattle were grazing over there and the breeze tickled the air.  It was day of time of wonderment.  The destination was at hand, the journey was the time spent thinking about past travelers. 

 

Damascus, Colorado, how came to be named that is still a mystery.

Animal House

County Fair 

                                                                 

2021

Photo Blog

World's First Harvey House

 

World’s First

Harvey House

 

Fred Harvey did not start off in the food business, he worked for a railroad.  His job required him to travel a lots and the food served him at the RR places was not good by his standards.  So Fred set out to change the food quality served to RR workers. 

 

Fred, along with a partner opened their first dining establishments on the Kansas Pacific railway in Hugo, Colorado and Wallace Kansas.   The railroad hotel served as the host for Fred Harvey’s lunchroom, 

 

The cluttered lot, where the first Harvey House had been.

These first eateries set the stage for Fred Harvey to begin a chain of restaurants across the western US. 

 

The Santa Fe RR contracted with Fred to establish dining houses along the Santa Fe route.  Standards were set for food preparation and apparel for the staff.  The Harvey girls as they were known had a manual of guidelines to follow to be a food server in a Harvey House.  The quality of food and the girls became the mark of a Harvey house. 

 

Not only did Fred Harvey have eating places along the rails, He also got them in various National Parks.  Across the SW US the Harvey house was well known. 

 

Today, most of the Harvey Houses are gone as are the RR hotels that hosted them.  In a few towns, the old hotel has been restored and the restaurant is back in operation.  These places still trade on the Harvey House name and there is a Harvey House fan club. 

 

The location of the first Harvey House in Hugo is a vacant lot full of stuff.  There is no reminder that the world’s first had been there. 

 

The Kansas Pacific RR built a roundhouse in Hugo in 1870 when Hugo was designated a division point on the railroad.  In 1870, the government changed the regulations covering rail workers.  As a result, Hugo was no longer a division point. 

 

The roundhouse was closed and torn down.  The hotel was shuttered and demolished along with Fred Harvey’s first lunch room.  Into the dim memory box this page of history faded.    Around Colorado, there are a few places where the building still stands where there was a Harvey house.

 

What would be cool, is somebody open an INN of sorts on the site of the old Harvey House.  At corner of the lot is an old vacant 50’s style gas station, a classic icon of a bygone era. 

 

The railroad town of Hugo is still a town by the rails.  In 1909 government regs changed again and Hugo became a division point again.  A new roundhouse was built on the west side of Hugo and it is still standing. Many of the old railroad houses and section houses are still in use in Hugo and the depot is in the park. 

Looking across the RR park from where the depot had been located.

US 40, America's Highway, is part of the Port to Plains route.  

US had it origins on the Smoky Hill Trail In 1870.  

Stormy Night

 

Dark and Stormy Night

 

Jeff strode through the woods, that dark and stormy night.  The wind danced over the trees, clouds played tag with the moonbeams.   Jeff was making rapid footprints as he strode down the path.  Lantern at his side, light beams lighting the way, penetrating the darkness. 

 

Shadows from the lantern light, bouncing off the shrubs.  Oh what a night for a horror story, Jeff thought.  This is the path the coven would dance down to their bonfire what a witching New England night it would be.  Jeff’s mind raced on that dark and stormy night.  Other images came forth as werewolf’s sat among the trees serenading the witches.  Naked warlocks scattered among the waving trees.  Bodies writhing and weaving to the sound of the rustling wind.  The thump of the branches pounding on the ground, a frenzy of dancing around the fire.

 

Jeff continued his pace along the path, watching the shadows dance across it.  The storm had pushed the wildlife into their burrows.  Looking ahead, Jeff could see the path ahead, lit by the silver beams of the moon. 

 

Oh what a romantic night this could be Jeff thought.  Walking my girl back home after the dance.  Brief interludes in the hidden shadows.  Jeff felt her warm body beside, rubbing on his arm.  

Bakersfield

 

Bakersfield, Colorado

Bakersfield, CO, was a small country Post Office on the Plains of Eastern Colorado.   SW of Vona or SE of Seibert.  It served local farmers and ranchers, early 1900’s out of their house.  Where the map showed the location, there were a couple of homes.  One was an abandoned farm, now home to grazing cattle.  Nearby was an operating farm, with equipment and well kept yard.  The empty farmyard is probably where the PO was located. 

 

It is an area of rolling hills, of mostly pastures, with some farmland.  Cattle pause their browsing to look at the interloper, the buffalo have a look of curiosity and the deer and antelope scurry for cover and distance.  The fox and coyotes wander the area as do other critters.  Then there are the birds, Eastern Colorado has one of the largest, most diverse variety of birds in the state. 

 

Because it is mostly ranchland, the area is pretty empty.  Homes are few and far and the little country Post Office may have had a couple dozen customers. 

 

Nearby is the Mennonite community of New Fredericksburg. The church has been boarded up, but it appears the graveyard is still used and taken care of.   Probably there are still some ancestors in the area.

 

It is a land that holds memories of dreams from years ago. 

Oriska, Colorado

 

Oriska, was a rural Post Office, located in East Central Colorado, just south of Seibert. 

 

The map shows there had been two Orica’s, one located on SH Hwy 59 and the other just a couple miles to the east.  Both were in operation during the early 1900’s.  When the contract for mail service was changed, it appears the name stayed with the PO.  On occasion when the rancher would get the PO contract, he would change the name of the Post Office, using his last name. 

 

Along the highway there is not much left of the ranch.  A few out buildings and corrals.  According to the map, Oriska was just south of the corner store.  The General Store, would be located on the corner of the correction line road curve. 

 

Here there are a few old building and houses.  Often these little general stores would get the Post Office but according to the map, no PO was located at the curve. 

 

These little country Post Offices would serve around 12-20 customers.  Located in the ranch house, it would also be a place to pause and visit and learn the gossip about the neighbors.  The postal customers of Oriska were probably consolidated in the Post Office at Seibert.  

Into the Dark

 

Dark Storm

 

It was a dark and stormy night as Joe hurried down the side street.  The snow was blindly swirling around him.  Following the buildings edge, Joe scrambled along towards main street.   Trying to pull his coat up tighter to keep the warmth inside, Joe had a losing battle with the slashing wind. 

 

Reaching the end of the building, Joe could tell he was closer.  Reaching the corner, Joe turned, only to turn back to the side street.  The harsh wind had  torn at his face, sending ice pain through his cheeks.  Reaching up, Joe pulled at his beanie cap, trying to pull it down over his face.  He laced the hood down tighter, covering his chin and mouth.  Feeling kind of secure, Joe turned the corner again to duel with the wind.  Leaning forward, Joe trudged into the fierce wind.  Flakes of snow were splattering against his coat and forming ice around his eyelids. 

 

Three fourths’ of the way down the block, Joe came to an entry way.  Stepping into the doorway, Joe got a reprieve from the howling wind.  Here he brushed the ice off his face and coat.  Standing there, Joe took a deep breath and slowly exhaling, he looked out the entry.  Other side of the street was not visible as small drifts swirled down the walk in front of him.  The street lights were but miniature light points.  Joe lingered knowing his journey had to continue in the fierce night. 

Into the Dark

 

It was a dark and stormy night as Bob stood in the doorway.  Bob had moved further back into the entry as the wind had picked up and the rain intensified.  His had was cupped around his mouth and the glow of a lit smoke could be seen through his fingers.    

 

Smoke rolled out of the entry to disappear up into the canopy.  His eyes ever present focused on the diner across the way.  Ever so often the eyes would roll of to the light of the all night gas station down at the end of the town.  Rolling back the other direction, Bob’s gaze would stall at the diner.  As Bob looked the other way, he could see couples darting out of the movie house to their cars.  A few had umbrellas and were hustling down the street.  A few movie goers crossed the street headed for the diner, heads bowed and coats pulled up over. 

 

Into the diner they darted, brushing off the water and shaking out the moisture of the day.  A few sat at the counter, most went for the booths.  Across the street, Bob could see hand gestures, smiles and heads jerking from laughter.  Cars in front of the movie house had come to life and were slowly pulling out onto the rain soaked street.

 

Bob reached into his pocket, pulling out another smoke, lighter flashing, smoke floating upwards.  The cars had left to their homes and main street was quiet again.  Bob stared at the diner, the waitress was scurrying around, taking orders and setting them up for cookie.   Drinks in hand, the waitress placed them on the appropriate tables. 

 

Bob stood there in his doorway, taking a slow drag on the cigarette, smoke exhausting into the air.  The gaze of Bob resumed it course of traveling up and down the street.  The rain had eased up and was down a heavy mist that swirled in the light breeze. 

 

To his left, Bob caught the flicker of headlights.  Down main street, a dark green sedan rolled, coming to a rest in front of the diner.  Headlights flicked off, the motor went silent and two men exited the car.  Crossing the sidewalk, the two men opened the door to the diner, to a booth at the far end they strolled.

 

Bob tossed his half smoked cigarette down and began walking out of the doorway.  Skipping over the flooded gutter, Bob strode out on the street.  Turing his collar down and rearranging his hat, Bob moved across Main. 

 

Into the Dark

 

It Was a Dark and Stormy Night

Bob ducked back into the doorway as fingers of ice rushed around him.  Further back into the doorway eased the grip of the icy wind as swirled down the street.   Bob pulled the collar of his coat up tighter around him to block the icy fingers.  The rain had let up, but the blasts of air lingered, seeking the nooks and crannies of Bob’s soul. 

 

With some warmth flowing around him again, Bob reached into his pocket.  Ushering a cigarette forward, a lighter followed, illuminating the cigarette.  Smoke rolled out from under his hat brim and the lit end of the cigarette glowed in the dark gloom of the night. 

 

Bob’s gaze returned to the street, drifting off the way, the glow of the all night station lights light up the dark.  At the other end, the marquee of the movie house was off, only the glow of the next show posters gleamed out of the dark.    The midnight horror show was underway.

 

The ever present glow of the diner across the street brought Bob’s eyes back into focus in the diner.  The waitress was sitting at her corner, rolling napkins.  Cookie was busy in the back, getting dishes ready for the next day.  At the other end sat Phil, nursing his coffee and has his conversation.

 

Phil had returned from the war all messed up.  His leg had been amputated because of a bomb explosion nearby.  His buddies nearby had taken the brunt of the explosion, protecting Phil.  Phil had survived, yet he hadn’t.  He was in a pile of dead bodies and or badly bleeding bodies. 

 

The horrors of that explosion left a mark on Phil that would not ease.  Returning home, Phil was withdrawn and kept to himself.  He would walk the town, shaking and with a distinctive of the wooden leg.  The town had adopted Phil and watched out for him. 

 

Tonight was one of those nights for Phil.  Stay up all night, so he wouldn’t have to face the terrors of the night.  

Into The Dark

 

Into The Dark

 

It was a dark and stormy night as Bob stood in the doorway.  Coat collar was turned up and hat drawn down against the slashing gusts.  His gaze would travel up and down main street, ending at the bright lights of the diner across the street.   This time his eyes focused on the little stream falling off the canopy over his head. 

 

The awning had been built in such a way, that the rainwater would flow across out off the awning’s edge.  Bob followed the drops across the canopy as they gather to form a stream rolling off the edge of the awning.  With a loud ker splat the rivulets spattered on the sidewalk, rolling across the walk to the curb and down into the gutter. 

 

Here the water droplets disappeared, the storm gutter was swollen with the stormy rain of the evening.  Bob let his mind wander and follow the storm water down the gutter to be swallowed by the storm sewer.  Bob let his mind’s eye gloat along with the water. 

 

Disappearing into the grate of the storm sewer, the splashes would give way to the roar of the micro flood in the sewer collector.    The water was racing down the h ill to get to the river first.  Bob watched the water traveling at breakneck speed.  Soon the drain would open up into a gully, for the rest of its journey to the river. 

 

The town was built on a rise overlooking the river, but the water flowed away from the river.  The gully took the water on a long journey to the river of over a mile.  Once the river swallowed the gully water, it was a U-Turn.  For now the water would flow downstream, passing by the docks just below the town. 

 

Bob’s mind eye wanders back up to main street, leaving the rushing water behind.  Through half closed eyes, the lights of the diner were a dim glow. 

 

It was a dark and stormy night as Bob stood in the doorway watching the street lights reflect off the shine main street.  

Into the Dark

Dark and Stormy Night

 

It was a dark and stormy night as Bob stood in the doorway, watching the wind ripple through the raindrops. Collar tuned up, hat pulled low, Bob peered out at the shimmering street, the street lights made small circular mirrors in the rippling water. 

Bob’s gaze roamed up the street, watching the ever changing shimmering of the tumbling water. 

Across the way, the all night dinner’s lights flickered off the shiny sidewalk in front.  There was almost no movement inside, Phil sat at station, counters corner, the waitress was the other end, rolling flatware into napkins, through the order window, cookie could be seen shuffling about the kitchen and the dishwasher was nowhere to be seen, probably out back grabbing a smoke. 

Bob turned back into the doorway, rustling inside his overcoat and pulled out a cigarette.  Out of the pant pocket came the lighter, hunched against the wind the flame could be seen flickering in the dark door way.  Bob retuned his attention to the street, cigarette cupped in his hand. 

Main street at night was usually pretty empty and tonight was no different.   Down by the movie house were a few parked cars.  Bob’s gazed rolled down main street, looking at the store fronts.   At the other end were a few parked cars in front a huge two story building.  This was the rooming house where Phil stayed.  It was also home to a few iterant workers, passing through town.  Day jobs could be found down at the river docks on occasion and there were other day jobs to keep the tramps busy but moving on. 

Taking a puff on the smoke, Bob’s eyes wandered down the street to the gas station.  The lights of the gas station glared into the falling raindrops.  Just beyond the gas station could be seen the highway.  Most of the headlights whizzed past but occasionally a car would stop and take on fuel and stretch their legs. 

It was another night in town as the glow from Bob’s cigarette lit his face ever so slightly.  Leaning against the corner of the doorway, Bob’s eyes returned to the diner. 

 

 

 

into the dark

 

It Was A Dark And Stormy Night

It was a dark and stormy night as Bob stood in the doorway.  His gaze roamed the darkness of Main Street, Pausing at the lights on the corner. The only other lights were in the all night diner across the street.  Bob’s eyes drifting across the dark landscape came to a stop on the sidewalk in front of him. The rain drops from the awning overhead, spattered on to walk in front. 

 

Joining the other drops of rain, a small course of water was formed as it scurried across the walk to join the stream in the gutter.    Ever onward down the hill the water flowed, splashing into the storm sewer at the far corner.  Bob let his mind wander on this stormy night with the water drops traveling down the hill.  Bob’s mind could hear the splashing of the water tumbling along in the storm sewer.  The roar of the storm water, raced through Bob’s thoughts.    In the images of the mind, Bob watched the water course its way to the river below the bluff.

 

Slowly Bob rolled out of his water journey and returned to main street to watch it rain.   His gaze returned to the diner across the way.

 

As his gaze traveled along the front window Bob could only spy three people.  The waitress sat at the end of the counter.  In front of her were buckets of silverware, a stack of napkins and a tub to put the rolled utensils into.  She sat there, mindlessly rolling the napkins and placing the finished ware into the tub. 

 

At the other end of the counter sat Phil, hunched over, telling a story to his cup of coffee. Cookie could be seen in the back, scrubbing down his grill.  

Into the Dark

 

It was a Dark and Stormy night

Joe tilted his head to the side as he rounded the corner onto Main Street.  Here on the main drag downtown, Joe would have some protection from the swirling rain.  It a dark and stormy night as Joe marked his steps down the sidewalk.  

Across the street, the marquee from the movie house was dark.   In the light of the lobby, Joe could see the attendant cleaning up.  Soon the movie would be over and the movie goers would head out the front door. 

Leaning into the wind, Joe continued his journey down the walk.  At the corner he paused, glancing off to the left, he could see the line of streetlights marching off the end of town.  The headlights to his right caught his attention and he stood on the corner.  The lone car turned and headed for the lights of the gas station couple of blocks down the street. 

Crossing the street, Joe’s attention shifted to the diner across the way.  The lights of the diner, glared out onto the walk, producing a daylight look.    On down the street Joe walked, turning into a doorway.  Here Joe was out of the elements.  Glancing across the street at the diner, Joe fished a cigarette out of his shirt pocket.  A flame flashed in front of Joe’s face, revealing a cigarette dangling from his lips.  The flame disappeared, revealing a glow in the front of Joe’s face.  Smoke swirled out of the doorway to be blasted away by the stormy wind.  Settled into the doorway, Joe returned his gaze to the diner across the way. 

 

into the dark

 

Stormy Night

It was a dark and stormy night as Bob waited in the doorway.  His gaze was fixed on the all night diner across the street.  The misting drops, smattered on the blackened roadway.  Drops of rain spattered on the canopy Bob stood under.  In silence, Bob stood there, listening of the drifting drops of rain float down the awning onto the sidewalk and across to the gutter. Bob’s gaze moved up and down the street, eyeing the occasional passing car.

The movies house down on the next block had just let out and people were drifting to the dinner or their cars.  As the young couples wander into the diner, Bob shifted to the other side of the doorway. Reaching under his topcoat, Bob slipped out a cigarette, carefully shielding it as he placed it on his lips.  Using his hat to shield some of the moisture, Bob reached in to his pants pocket.  There was a flash of light and the cigarette was lit. 

Bob straightened up, his look returned to the diner across the way.   The couples from the movie house were seated and very animated in conversation.  Joe the local janitor sat at his end of the counter.  Soon he would go down the street and begin his job of cleaning the office building a few doors down the street.  Hal from the all night gas station sat a couple of seats away, having his coffee and pie before heading off to work.

It was a dark and stormy night as Bob huddled in the doorway.  The cold fingers of the wind would find it way into Bob’s doorway.   Shuddering a bit, Bob pulled his collar up, flicking his finished cigarette into the gutter.  Edging out of the doorway, the solitary figure glanced down the vacant street.  On this dark and stormy night, downtown was enveloped in silence of rain smattering off the buildings.