Teddy Roosevelt and the Cowboys of Hugo

The small town of Hugo, Colorado, clings to life on the parched plains of Eastern Colorado.  It is a ranching town, built by the railroad.  The 10 gallon hat and boots are pretty much standard dress apparel.  The pick up has replaced the horse although the pick up often has a horse trailer in tow.  Up on the ridge, the grassland stretches to the eyes end.  Rolling prairie to the horizon, dotted with cattle marked by fences. 
Here the land is pretty much the same as it was in past centuries, only now broken by fences.  In 1902 the little cow town was a buzz, the president was passing through.  It was also round up time and the ranch hands had gathered in town to begin their round up. 

News must of spread across the prairie of the president’s trip for there were also more then a couple of photographers in town.  These shutter bugs were snapping pictures of the event and the cowboys were proudly posing. 
Hugo was a stop on the railroad where steam engines were serviced.  So it was with anticipation that they would get to see President Roosevelt.  When the train arrived, it was chow time for the cowboys and the aroma of cooking food was drifting in the air.

 
When Roosevelt stepped onto the platform of his car the aroma of the food engulfed him.  The cowboys gathered around to get a glimpse of the US President.  Banter went back and forth and soon the cowboys had the president off the train and to have some chow with him.
Cameras were flashing and smiles were growing.

It was time to gather around and break bread with the President of the United States. 
Many a picture was taken and many years later these pictures were gathered up into books.  One of the photographers traveling with the president became so enamored with the cowboys of Hugo, he returned the following day.  Arriving in Denver, He caught the next train east to Hugo and set out to capture more pictures of these boys of the West.
His pictures were gathered into a small booklet and very few copies were made.  One resides in the tomes of the Colorado State History Museum and a few can be found here and there. 
The photographs by the other photographers have become parts of cowboy book from the early 1900’s.
These books and their photographs give a glimpse into and era that was on the wane.  There was no Hollywood yet to glitter up the real thing.  Unvarnished, these were the cowpokes that roamed the range, tending to the cattle. 

In downtown Hugo, is a small memorial park to this moment when the President of the US stopped in the little ranching town and ate with the cowboys. 

Windows into the Past

 

In my wanderings, I will roam through some of the small towns.  Seldom do I travel the Interstate any more.  I prefer the slower pace of the old two lane highway.  Many I have driven before, now I see things I used to fly past. 

I put some extra time into my trips now so I can pause for a bit at some of the more interesting things. 

Many of the smaller towns are fading, less farms and ranches to support the communities and the with the Interstate, people whiz on down the road.  Many building sit empty, ghosts of another era now walk the floors, open the doors. 

 

 

Other days, they were active little hubs, people came and went.  Now they are collectors of ghostly webs spun from the past.

 

Sometimes these old buildings get a new life.  An out of towner sees one and wants it or sees an opportunity.  Occasionally it is a retiree that likes to fix things up.  A small section gains new life and old falling apart sections gain a new look. 

Then the new owner moves on or passes on and the new life building fades back into the past again. 

Sometimes it is hope faded.  A vision came to fruition soon to fade.  Empty the building sits, reminder of a hopes that was not shared.  There is a lure of country life.  There is also a harsh side of the romantic notions.  Too many people see nothing and pass by, pausing not to savor the country. 

Many a dream sits dimly in repose.  Days of different life, lived at a different pace.  The siren song of the big city drawing the masses.  Listen to the ghosts talk.  hear the dreams lived out, fading into oblivion. 

New desires and wants cover over the old.  Wanting the new, buries the past. 

I trundle down the road, capturing moments, freezing them into pixels.  Later times, I return to see vacancies.  My memories are all I see. 

Oh ….. For Frustrations

 

Projects become time consumers when the best of laid plans fail.  Great aspirations rode on the wings of hope.  The elements were laid out, a nice outline was made.  Together the pieces would make a nice tableau.  Some of the bits were stored over there, and some in here and the rest were scattered, in easy reach.

The moment arrived, the parts were to be gathered up and assembled.  Into the puter they were placed.  Delicate care was given to each.  Embellishments were added.  No parts left dangling.  Some time later the project was completed. 

The next phase begins.  The files are to be uploaded.  Wind the puter up, put the file name in the little box, sit back, let the bits and pieces be crunched into a whole.

Later the sum of the parts is completed.  The crunching is done, the verdict is in.  The puter at the other end says I have problems.  I sort through, see them and say, Okay, they are fixable. 

I go back through, gathering up new parts to replace the non acceptable pieces.  Time paces, the new bits are ready.  I delete and I replace, a whole new assembly is created.  To the upload page I go.  Into the window the file name is entered and the crunching process begins again.

Sometime later the crunching is finished.  Oh happy day, it is completed.  Then I see them, the little red dots.  I have issues it say.  I examine the issues, they are not major, I can fix them, just very time consuming.  A bit of steam ushers forth from the nostrils, it is becoming frustrating.

Again I go through patch and repair.  Go back and upload again and await the results.  Oops, it spits little red dots back at me.  harumph, more steam is rolling out of the nostrils, a bit of flame is rolling overhead.  I have to go through the process again, frustrations are building but I fix and redo things.

This learning curve is becoming a monster, I need to get a handle on things.  There in the little box is red letters, save and go on.  I click and everything is okay, all is great.  But I am not happy.  The changes have made other problems that need to be straightened out.  I go back redo things, check the files, make some more changes.  I am satisfied.  All the bits and pieces are where they should be.  I go to the upload page and put the file in.  The puiter sits there, crunching pieces and bits, sending them through cyber space. 

I check back, an error message is in the window, task was not completed.  I check things, see nothing wrong.  I try again, bleep the window say.  Whoops the ceiling is scorched from the flames issuing forth from the cranial structure.  I go back through and send a nasty note to the people at the other end, nothing.

I redo things again, put a little twist on and reload.  Voila, it is uploaded but with numerous red dots.  I click the ignore button and finish the project.  Humbug, a project that should of taken no more then two days, got stretched out over 8 days.  I did learn how to get mad at the other end and how to fix things. 

There are other projects on the drawing board, hopefully the will not be as fraught with these problems.

Such is the life of mice and me.

The Towns of Ghosts

 

The Great Depression left lots of empty shells on the prairie.  Towns boomed around the westward migration and the immigration wave of the late 1800’s into the 1920’s.  During the Roaring 20’s people were living high and fast.  It was prohibition and speakeasies, the flapper girls and gangsters.  Money was plentiful and easy to come by.  Self indulgence was the mantra of the day. 

Then came the crash of 1929, life was to change like no one could of froe seen.  People were going hungry, no jobs.  Dreams that had been built were being shuttered and left, abandoned.  Some small communities disappeared and are but a reminder on old time maps.  A few hung in through the 30’s only to decline with the coming modern age of the automobile.

Along some highways are reminders of these past days.  Small communities hang on but the shells of other days sit empty.  No longer is main street a bustling burg.  People seldom stroll down the sidewalks to go shopping.  Here one can walk the median stipe of main and not meet a car.

With time permitting, I like to drive off the beaten path and drive the streets of these little towns.  It offers a glimpse back into the past that has been glossed over by many or ignored.

This neat old building had been a grocery store at one time.  There were not supermarkets back then.  From the side one can see the living quarters on the second floor where the store owner lived.  Wasn’t much long distance commuting back then.  With the two brick chimneys, it indicates that there was stove of some type, wood or coal probably.  The building was probably built around 1900’s.  There was no electricity back then or natural gas on the prairie.

On the sides can be seen the additions as the shop was expanded.  Maybe another business was opened next door.  It is fascinating to speculate on what when on in this little town 100 years ago.

On the roof one can see the modern conveniences added over time,  The utility lines for electricity, a television antenna and maybe central heating.

Today it sits vacant, falling to the ravishes of time.  With the curtain and shades on the window it appears someone may of bought it and used it for a residence.  I have seen some people move out from the big city and buy places like this dirt cheap and fix them up.  It would make a nice large spacious home, great studio.  Not much racket and noise in these small towns. 

In silence the grand store sits awaiting its fate.

Snow Day

 

Today is the day, the blizzard is here.  The day many farmers and ranchers have been hoping for.  Snow makes for hazards but for the land it is nourishment.   It has been so dry that the water is dusty. 

So take a few and punch out a few keys on the keyboard and write something about something.

I have been writing some stories for the local tourism people to post on their website about the ghost towns in the area.  In the process I have found a variety of old and interesting things.   Mostly old machinery and buildings.  Other day I was visiting with a rancher whose grandfather had operated a post office out of his ranch house in the early 1900’s. 

Hanging on their wall was a relic from Mabel’s time of the barb wire network.  Two short rings was Esther's, a long ring n a short was Mildred’s, two shorts and one long ring was Evelyn’s and any one else that wanted to listen in.  Party line central it was.  News of the neighborhood was broadcast far and wide over the barb wire.

Wonder if the kids today could operate something so primitive.  They would probably ask how to boot it up.

During my journeys into the out back I have some interesting companions, watchers.  Hunting season is still on so they are a bit skittish. 

Have been lucky to find a few ghosts here and there.  The knock at the door, opening and closing, footsteps over the floor.  Check on the door and it locked, no one is in the house.  Then there is frank, he hangs in the side room.  It is amazing some of the stories that people have about their unseen room mates.

Look closely, there is a shadow in the front window and there have been reports of lights in there at night.

Always did enjoy the stories of Caspar. 

Well the ground has turned white where the snow can collect.  The wind is blowing the rest down Texas way.

Winter Time

 

The drought has mellowed out winter.  It has been cold but no icy blasts so far.  The cold does not bother me much.  Get the parka out n flannel/wool shirts and I shall venture forth. 

It also makes a nice time to capture a few pixels.  The trees are barren, the weeds are shuttered and the grasses dormant.  It is when nature goes for a nap getting ready for spring.

I like the abstract pattern of the trees, the limbs, branches and their twists and turns.  It is amazing the patterns a tree has under all those leaves.  Oh yes fall colors are great but I like the nude tree also.

Then there are the sunsets of winter.  Biting icy fingers crawl over the face, standing facing the setting sun.  Sunsets are a dime a dozen but the hand of man makes it different.

It is amazing how we clutter up the country side with technology.  A cellphone tower sits in the middle of somewhere.  High power utility towers race over the horizon.  Interrupted  by a tree.  On far horizon is the shallow outline of the Rocky Mountain foothills.

All the latest gadgets.  Surrounded in our homes, our cars and in the office. 

To truly escape technology is almost impossible.  An escape in the mind;s eye.

Have a good week and may the Lord bless your travails.

Trains in Miniature

 

One of my passions in life is model railroading.  I have been building small trains and their accessories for a number of years.  More then I can count on my fingers and toes.  I post most of my dabbling in this world on railroad sites.  So I decided to do a small post on here.

This past week I went to a model train show and made a couple of videos and took some pictures of a few of my models.

The old time trains, not many model them any more.  These are from the 1850’s to the end of the 19th century.  These were the first little engines to roll cross country and over the mountains.  Only a couple of places in the country that have been able to preserve these little puffers.

On a cold dark night I clunk away, putting parts and pieces together.  Then I watch them circle the miniature empire.

Bit of an ego trip involved.  But the rewards are great when one sees the smiles on the faces.

All Clock Eyed

 

Not sure who to talk with but I wish the politicians would stop messing with my clock.  This day is one of my least favorites.  The spring change I even like less. 

Believe I’m gonna write my local congressman and tell him to get the political types out of my clock.  No matter how one looks at it, time does not vary.  It is us little peoples that get messed by clock eyed politico's.

Now where is clock smashing mallet?

Was reading that some people are upset about businesses making money on the clean up after the east coast storm.  They think the government should be doing it.  Where business is working at clean up they are out performing the government workers…… hum wonder why.

One day a few people may understand where taxes come from…… profits.  Without businesses there would be not much to tax and there would be no wealth for the government to confiscate.

Basically if one is not a capitalist, they are a communist.  The two forms of economic distribution.  Yup there are variations but if one is against capitalism ….. what are they for?

Now if I could get my clock to stop falling all over itself I might go for a ride. 

Hop in, go see the country side, take some pictures, wander the grassland, listen to some tunes and have cold lunch.

Hope you are having a great one.

Small Towns

 

No longer am I in a hurry to get there.  Now I plan my trips with some slack time to tour some of the small towns I pass through.  There are a variety of buildings.  I like to capture pictures of them and there are other things that are unique to that town.

State of neglect is the companion of many of these burgs.  Businesses are gone as are the residents.

The old storefronts line the highway.  Most boarded up and awaiting……….?  Some look like they came from the south, others from another era.

Thriving businesses they were.  Serving travelers, tourists and the wanderer.  Travel changes, people flock to the super speedways of the Interstate, bypassing these little villages.

A few have tried to find a new life for them but to little avail.

Wonder where those gates led to, was it a plantation a large business or maybe a mansion.  Today it is overgrown with weeds and care is neglected.  What could the story be, a dream gone bad?

A southwestern style home, gated and protected from unwanted visitors.

Time moves on, these little towns struggle to survive.  The Siren song of the big city calls their children.

 

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Calvary outpost….. Ft Wallace

 

Took a short trip to check out an old steam engine and chase it.  Along the way there were other things to look at and take pictures.

One of the places I wanted to go to was Wallace, Kansas.  Here are the remains of an old military building.  It had been a museum at one time but Kansas changed their tax policies for places such as this.  Losing their money the locals closed it up and today it sits vacant.

 

It is given some care but for the most part it appears to sit neglected.  There are stress cracks here and there that probably will become worse over time.  Being made of rock it will wear pretty good.  I just hope Kansas will give some funding to it to keep it from falling apart.  Then it is not alone, I have run into other places that have closed up when the state pulled the funding.

I hate to see the funding pulled yet the local county is not all that poor and something more could be done with it.

Yet it is so typical, rely o n big brother, in this case the state, and all of a sudden big brother closes the pocket book.  People throw their hands up and …………

Ft Wallace came into being in the 1860’s to protect the Smoky Hill Trail and the railroad.  In 1868 the railroad stopped building and Ft Wallace became the railhead for a couple of years.  It was a wild and rowdy town.  Railroad workers hanging around, not much to do, gold seekers passing through and the outlaws plundering anything and everything.  Late 1869 the railroad started building west again and Wallace shrunk.  A few years later, most of the Indian problems were over and the Calvary had not much to do. 

On off went the Army to other jobs and the building was left behind.  The town of Wallace prospered until the depression and then dust bowl.  Today it has a few residents and lots of ghosts.  The building was fed and well cared for but today it is abandoned.

In back the horses await the return of the cavalry to go riding on the prairie looking for Indians and bad men.

Things like this I have no problem supporting with tax money but at what level.  So much tax money is spent on special interests and things like this get lost.  There also needs to be some local help and not reliance on big brother because look what happens when big brother changes his mind.  Maybe there is a lesson in there someplace but do we learn?

                     _________________________________

Other Notes

My pelvis is pretty well healed up and the tailbone is doing pretty good.  I am still battling the hematoma, but at least I can sit for a spell now.  I am looking at blogging some more and getting around to others also.  Got a bunch more stories from this short trip.  Some neat train pictures and buildings in the small towns.

Have a good week.

Within, The Terror

 

When Hitler came to power, couple of the things he did, persecute the Jews and try to control the printed word. 

Looking back through history one of the things despots do when they come to power is to pick on a religion.  The Romans, the lions and the Christians comes to mind.  Yet compared to what Lenin and Hitler did, the Romans pale.  Lenin kicked the church out of Russia,no religion of any type was allowed in Russia.  Hitler was an exterminator of the Jews.

The other thing was they controlled was the press and books they did not agree with were destroyed.  Lenin and Hitler wanted to be the focus, they were the god’s of the day.

consider though, Hitler and Lenin at opposite ends of the spectrum.  Prior to WWII there was a communist part in Germany.  The communists were opposed to fascism.  The fascist state invaded Russia.

Reading through history one can see the parallels of communism and fascism, their methods are very similar but very opposite mode.

The other thing is the control of weapons.

So as I watch the politics I watch who is trying to control or rid one of these facets of American life. 

The church has been under attack for a number of years by the left wing of the democrat party in the form of the ACLU and a few others.  Marxists do not want religion in their controlled state.  Marx was very clear, religion is in competion to his state run government.  The gods are to be the political elite of the governing party.

It is also the left wing of the democrats that push for gun control.  Look at the flap over the comments that were made between political pundits.  Free speech comes under attack by both sides but who apologizes for their remarks.

When Hoffa junior told President Obama, “We will get those Republican Sons of Bitches,” and the president said nothing there was lots of implications of how the president views the opposing part.  But let the Republicans use a similar style of language and look what happens.  The left tries to silence their speech.

So as I look at the democratic party I wonder what has happened.  Why have the democrats let the communists run their party.  Is there that much hatred of the Republicans that they would rather live with commies then try to live as free people?

Wonder if the Democrats will stand up to the bullies in the far left wing?  It is not something new, communism has been on the left for a century or better.

During the early 1900’s a group of elites got together in Europe.  Their stated purpose was to move their home countries into communism.  Lenin is the only one with any kind of success in Russia.  There were communist movements through out the world.  In the 30’s though it was the fascists that took a different tack through warfare.

These elements of fascism live today and right now the communist movement is gaining momentum. 

As long as the Constitution can stay intact there is good level of protection for citizens to be protected from both extremes, communism and fascism.  If the left continues to attack the constitution they are leaving the door open for the fascists.

So I wonder if the sensible Democrats will wake up and take back control of their party.  For a reasonable two party system is also a good measure of protection.

 

 

 

 

 

Demise of an Icon

 

On my blog headers I post pictures I have taken.  Usually they are old buildings of some sort.  On Wordpress I posted a picture of an old abandoned gas station in a ghost town.  I went through there a few days ago.  My gas station has collapsed.  The posts that held the canopy rotted out and the roof fell over the little station.

The highway was rerouted in the 40’s, so I’m guessing this old station was built around 1910-20.  There weren’t many cars traveling the prairie back then but they did need supplies and little stations like this popped up to meet needs back then. 

After the highway was moved the town did not survive much longer, businesses failed and people moved.  A few hung on working for a rancher or neighboring town.

When I saw the roof collapsed a twinge of sadness crawled over me.  Here was an American icon fading into the pages of history, soon to be forgotten.  The Golden Belt Route did not have the fame of Route 66 but it had the character of early Americana.

This little town originally was a stage stop in the 1860’s.  It survived Indian attacks, the Dust Bowl and other ravages but it could not survive the government.

Well I shall jump in my Model A and get ready to go cruising for the weekend.  May your weekend be blessed.

Water Springs Forth

Snow is cursed by so many, yet it a fount of life that carries many through the parched summer.  High in the mountains snow fills the ridges, covers the valleys and caps the trees, making a vista to be in awe of.  But that very snow feeds the rivulets that cascade down the hills. oozing under ground.

Wind whipped snow sends all scurrying for protection.  Grasses are covered, bushes peek out and trees sway to the extra weight.  The damage of the snow is the renewal of spring.  Moisture in the shite stuff ushers forth the green fresh plants to blossom in glory.

For miles this moisture can travel underground to sprout forth in tiny puddles.  Gushing springs heave forth to nourish the ground.  Last years snow flows up out of the dirt.

A tiny wet spot oozes out of the ground.  Tumbles down the hillside to nourish a few plants to sink back in the ground.

A small ribbon of green marks the spot where the water flows.  Returning back to the earth to resurface in a another location.

Here the animals found water to slake their thirst.  Not more then a mud hole but pools enough of water.  Hundreds of miles away are the mountains but underneath the ground are streams of a different nature.  Water travels through the sandy rocks for miles to seep out of the ground at another place.  Creating a small garden on the parched prairie.

Indians knew of these places.  here they would find the animals for their food, plants for their food and water for their thirst. 

What appears to be barren land, the starkness in broken by a few trees.  On far hillside a small grove of trees mark a spring.  The hillside is an escarpment revealing where the formations of the mountains is exposed.  Over many miles this formation rises.  Springs ease forth along the escarpment, giving life to the land.

Small ponds create a micro system of life that would not be without the snow.  This water may of fell a number of years ago as it traveled under the earth.  Following a path the eye can not discern.

There are many springs in life.  What ushers forth, has it been there for years, has it been dammed or is waiting for release.

Peace like a river runs through it.

Threshers Day … IV … Tractors

 

Get country folks together and the tractor weasels it way in to the conversation.  Old Threshers Day has its share of tractors.  They get shown off in the parade or at the pull.

The Johnny Poppers are probably the most popular and the red McCormick's a second.  There is whole other variety of plowing machines.  The steam tractors were missing because of the regulations the government pushed on to them.  Sometimes I would like to plow the bureaucrats into the ground, they would make such good fertilizer.  They also know how to screw life up, oh well, on to the tractors.

These are some of the more unusual and rare tractors on display.

There is usually a homemade contraption around someplace.

 

Men and their machines.

Threshing Days

 

Across the country the farming communities celebrate their heritage in various ways.  It may be their crop, strawberry days, potato days or something else.  These celebration days harken back to a time earlier in history.  The old crafts and machinery show up, locals get together to visit, talk about the weather and the days events.  A feast is set out and there is more visiting.

This past week I went to Old Thrashers Day at a neighboring town.  It has been going on for a number of years.  The show was spread out over a few acres with different activities in the locations plus there fairgrounds next door was being used.

There was more then I want to put in one story so I am going to spread it out over a number of stories.  To say the least, I enjoyed my day and next year will plan better for a longer stay.

 

One of most interesting was watching this young lady and her oxen.  They are about 1500 pound animals and with a little flick of her whip the ox responded.  There is no leash or harness, she leads them around with the buggy whip.  It is a flick above them or a gentle tap on their shoulders to get their attention.  Mostly it was a gentle tap and the oxen would respond and move to her commands.

 

She gets them hooked up and they push their buggy back up on the trailer.  They have to push evenly or the buggy goes lopsided on off the trailer.  It was a treat to watch her work with the animals.

She said they are 4 years old so that means they will grow some more.  They will probably grow to over 2000 pounds. 

I talked with her a bit and she said they use them around the farm for various chores, such as hauling water out to pasture.  She also said she has fun with them around the farm.

There were some other woman there dressed like her.  I am guessing they might be a Mennonite type of sect.  Yet to get the animals to work together like that takes time and patience.

 

Fall has arrived…. will be in the 40’s most of the day and it has been raining past 2 days.  No frost on the pumpkin yet though but it will be close.