Forgive me; this is going to get a little sentimental. Today we attended my daughter’s 5th grade graduation celebration. She’s closing the chapter on her elementary years and moving onto middle school. With most of life’s milestones, I am able to roll over them without much friction, but this one is hitting a little harder than the “first tooth” and the “no training wheels bike ride”. She’s growing up and she is doing a fine job. She is a wonderfully delightful young lady. As a mother I am constantly second guessing my parenting but I have no choice but to trudge onward and continue doing the best I can. She’s taken huge steps towards the independent direction but there are obvious moments when I am reminded that she is still a kid. (Her recent purchase of $27 worth of candy at the convenience store is a prime example.) Her new-found maturity is deceptively prevalent. And I constantly find myself having to step back to remember that, despite her appearance, she is only 10 (going on 25).

After a delightful ceremony at Wilson Elementary School (where she has spent all of her K-5 years) Anna and I loaded up in the minivan, freshly outfitted with new brakes and a water pump, and hit the road. It has been dark, gloomy and rainy for days and I could see a patch of blue sky way off on the horizon to the north. I figured that potential sunlight was as good of a target as any and we set off.

Now, I’m sure the roads north of town make sense to someone, and perhaps if I were to actually look at a map I could figure it out, but that’s simply not my style. I prefer aimless meandering over destination travel any day. Sometimes however, this gets you into places you don’t really want to be. After a mistaken loop south, I was able to find a road that pointed north that was guarded by a sign that said “gravel road next 20 miles.” Twenty Miles was enough miles for me and signified that road lead to more than a dead end. It was quickly revealed that we were chasing a sunset and Bear Butte.

It’s getting so green and beautiful out there, it was hard not to find a good shot. We drove and stopped and shot and drove a little further and stopped and shot and drove and so on. My favorite moment of the drive was when I spotted a mystery bird on a fence. He was shy and would always fly away each time I approached and land on the fence down the road. I wanted desperately to get a shot of him in flight because the setting sun behind him was lighting up his wings in the most delightful fashion   I couldn’t shoot, drive and chase the bird at the same time so I told Anna to grab the wheel and steer. She was thrilled to take up the task and we laughed each time the bird would land and fly again. Eventually the bird wised up, flew in another direction and we drove on.

We ended up on HYW 34 and circled around Bear Butte right as the sun was sinking below the horizon. I had one last whim to visit the lake at the base of the butte. We pulled into the lake just in time for me to run out and catch some shots of the beautiful tranquility of the still lake and the painted sky. A single fishing boat quietly floated around the lake as the swallows chased their evening snacks across the top of the perfectly glass-like surface of the water.

A blue heron flew across the lake and landed in the reeds on the south side. Anna stayed in the car while I trudged around in the sticky clay mud and as I packed my gear up to return to her, I noticed she had ventured out to join me. I asked her if she had seen the heron and she was sad that she had missed it. I was explaining to her how it had flown just above the water line across the lake when we looked just in time to watch it fly back again one last time this time with a fish in his mouth. It was a beautiful sight to witness and the perfect way to say goodbye to the light of the day as it followed the sun behind the horizon

We swung through Sturgis for one last snack before we drove back home. As the darkness of night claimed the sky I got to thinking about how hard it is to appropriately express the joy I feel when I take these mini trips with Anna. They are simply my favorite thing to do. As I told her last night, I know they seem weird and annoying to her right now, but I hope that, at some point in her future, she looks back at these memories fondly.

When I think back to my childhood, the moments spent with my mom and my grandpa out in nature are the ones I credit for shaping me and making me who I am today.  I learned everything from what they shared with me. I grew up following them wherever they wanted to take me and absorbed their wisdom like a sponge. I am thrilled that it is my turn to give that gift to my child. For me, there is nothing on earth that makes me happier than these times with Anna. I know the clock is ticking and my ability to haul her around is fleeting. Soon, her world will be in her own hands and her own social life will matter much more. But right now, I’ve got her and I am going to selfishly indulge in these moments… not only because I know they are fleeting, but also because I think, in the end, they will matter to her someday too.

I’m not sure it’s possible to have a better weekend. Aside from it being Mother’s Day weekend, and having a delightfully wonderful daughter and pretty much the best mom on the planet, I also was able to sneak in a hike and wrapped up the weekend with something so unexpectedly amazing I sincerely questioned whether or not I was awake or dreaming.

_________________________________ F R I D A Y _________________________________

Anna (my daughter) and I kicked off the weekend with another evening drive out east of town. It was a pretty typical drive, but it did afford us a shower in a decent rain storm and a glimpse of some new-to-this-earth animals who were as fresh as they were cute.

It’s been a challenge to get Anna to engage in these outings. She is not only 10 going on 11 but she has recently bought a new tablet which she is constantly burying her nose in. I’ve started coming up with games and challenges to try to engage her with the real world around her. I think she is starting to enjoy the time and and has even spotted a few critters before I have. She especially likes the fact that I have started bribing her with ice cream in exchange for her company.

One of the best moments on our Friday evening excursion was a stop alongside the road to observe a fairly young colt. Anna requested the chance to get out and pet it, which I granted. The colt was a little shy and darted back behind the comfort of its more mature field-mates, but the other horses welcomed Anna’s touch and it lit me up inside to watch the interaction. We chased a few hawks and caught a lovely sunset before heading back to town for the ice cream.

_________________________________S A T U R D A Y _________________________________

Saturday found me and a pack of my nearest and dearest friends wandering some freshly logged and very obstacle-laden terrain in the Cathedral Spires. They have been clearing the beetle kill but haven’t quite gotten around to cleaning up after themselves yet. We clumsily climbed up a valley between two giant walls of granite until we could not climb any higher (without ropes). As we sat and enjoyed the view I started to notice a rather high quantity of animal scat. I determined that it belonged to Mountain Goats and, considering the volume, we decided we were hanging out in an area where the goats liked to hang out too. We didn’t see any, but I am fairly sure I heard one as it ran off trying its best to hide from our pack of dogs.

Aside from noticing the scat from our resting point I also caught a glimpse of a rock climber across the valley on a neighboring spire. That area is a hot spot for climbers so I really didn’t think much of the fella until I noticed him again on the way back down the mountain. I looked up just in time to see that they weren’t just climbing but that they had run a slack-line between two spires and were JUST about to tight-rope walk across it. I was able to get the camera cued up and did a passing job of recording the event. It was truly a sight to behold.

_________________________________S U N D A Y _________________________________

“goats”

Sunday, of course, was Mother’s Day. The day started with a side journey with just me and my wonderful mom out to an area I have been frequently exploring for photo adventures. There were a few sites out there I wanted to share. I especially wanted to show her a grouping of very large nests my friend Eric and I had spied on a previous adventure. They were perched at the very top of some giant cottonwood trees about a half a mile off the side of the road. Eric started to refer to them as “goats” (Eric has a special sense of humor… I appreciate it very much). Of course, they aren’t really goats, they are nests, but I liked the idea of them being called “goats” so I kept the name.

My mom had a pretty great pair of binoculars in her truck so I was able to make out the faintest shape of a very large bird perched on the top of the nest. “I think those are blue herons!” I exclaimed. My statement was met with hesitant disbelief and since I was unable to make an absolute identification we headed on and I continued to point at things and say “and this is where I took that one picture…” and “when we were here Anna did this… “

The last thing I wanted to show her before we fetched up the rest of the family for our official Mother’s Day outing was a fresh batch of tiny baby sheep Anna and I had happened across a few days earlier. We had a blast watching the little fluff balls play in the field and laughed as one seemed to be as allergic to the air as we are and proceeded to sneeze in a most familiar way.

After the sheep we swooped up my daughter and brother and we set out to aimlessly wander the Black Hills. Our quest consisted mostly of trying to find a place to eat lunch but circumstance after circumstance pushed the event back to about 3:00pm when we finally landed at Legion Lake. We shared a meal of BBQ and I chased around some beautiful swallows with my camera. Anna was able to dip her toes in the water before we loaded back up and hit the king of all Black Hills Roads, Iron Mountain, and headed home. The weather was perfect and I can’t think of a more lovely way to spend a day than celebrating our mom-ness with our kid-people in the Black Hills.

_________________________________ T H E  C H E R R Y  O N  T O P  _________________________________

The family affair was over but my hunger for adventure wasn’t yet satiated. I could tell by the thin clouds and the lazy sun that the sunset was going to be a good one, so I thought I would wonder out one last time in search of one more thing to focus my camera on… I had no idea I was about to discover the thrill of a lifetime.

I had already visited my usual location earlier with mom so I decided to take another direction out of town. I headed North instead of East and was surprised at how quickly I was gifted the final gift of my Mother’s Day.

I crested a hill just outside of town when I noticed a very familiar site. I instantly recognized another patch of “goats” in some trees. Only this time instead of a handful there were dozens and instead of the nests being too far away for me to see they were in the tops of trees right next to a side road. I pulled off without hesitation and lost my breath as I noticed 50 or so very large nests each inhabited by its own blue heron tending to the eggs.  I sat and watched as their partners came and went, returning with fresh twigs and sticks to fortify their homes.

It was without a doubt one of the most breathtaking sites I had ever seen. I had no idea that they nested in colonies like that. Its hard to find the words to describe the feelings I had as I watched them come and go. I shot hundreds of photos and couldn’t bring myself to start the car and leave even after I had filled every gig of memory space I had, but as the sun went down I did find the will-power to turn the key and drive away.

As I drove back to town a single heron flew above me following the same road. I laughed at how, had I not just spent all that time with so many birds, I would have freaked out at the site of that single bird flying above me. I didn’t appreciate the solitary bird any less but I did look at it in a totally different way.

All in all, it was a weekend to remember punctuated with a gift from mother nature herself. There were several occasions when things were so perfect or awe-inspiring that I felt the only explanation was that it was all a dream. But I think thats how we know you’re doing it right, when your reality feels as good as your wildest dreams. I am a truly lucky girl. I have the best mom, best daughter, best family a girl could ask for – and I live in God’s country where miracles happen daily, as long as you’re willing to find them.

I’ve been in the herd of buffalo at the Wild Idea Buffalo Ranch countless times before and it is never anything less than a mind blowing experience. But this weekend I got to experience the herd one on one – just me and them (and a 4 wheeler).

I quickly jotted down notes as Jill told me, over the phone, which gates to go through and what direction to go to get to the buffalo. I didn’t really need to, I was so hungry for the experience, it seemed that her words just seared themselves in my brain.

I took the long way to the ranch from HWY 79 onto the Lower Spring Creek Road. I stopped to snap a shot or two along the way, but mostly I was just enjoying my freedom from the constrictions of time and obligation. I knew all I had to do was get to the ranch by sunset.

I had planned to spend the night there on Friday night and then most of my day on Saturday. I considered my options and figured my time would be best spent with the herd on Friday night as the sun went down. Then, on Saturday I would do my best to get up with the sun and explore along the Cheyenne River.  The first part worked out perfectly, I was able to get to the ranch with plenty of time to hop on the 4-wheeler and head into the prairie in search of the buffalo.

I had to wrangle two gates to get to the herd. When I first pulled up I noticed that they were sort of split into two chunks. The smaller of the two was just in front of me. The slowly sinking, low hanging sun was just touching the tops of the prairie grass in a way that was irresistible to a photographer, so I decided I needed to head out into the larger group first. I found a big ol’ bull standing in front of the rest of the buffalo and decided he was the first to receive my attention. After a little time spent enjoying the light and the beasts, I decided that the smaller herd had much higher photographic potential because they had chosen to position themselves in front of much more attractive scenery. So I cruised over to check them out and noticed that each of the large animals were accompanied by a baby. I learned later that when the mommas give birth, they create these smaller side herds to collectively raise and protect the calves. The momma’s didn’t seem overly excited about me wanting to join them for the sunset show, but they also seemed to put up with me as much as their instincts would allow. I had the most incredible time watching the babies hop about and scamper childishly around, but never far from their mothers. I shot until there was no longer any light to do so. With a very full soul I packed up my gear and headed back to the ranch house.

Now… I had every intention of getting up with the sun and witnessing a Cheyenne River sunrise, but when the time came, my alarm went off and I was simply too comfortable to be bothered. I decided that that was an adventure for another time, rolled over and enjoyed my freedom to do so. I woke up at about 8:30, had a quick breakfast, headed back out to my old friend, the 4-wheeler and headed down to the river. I spent several hours crawling at a snail’s pace along the shore of the great river. I found myself inside a massive grove of old mangled cotton woods that had yet to dress themselves in their summer leaves. I sat quietly for a long time and watched the various birds call and chase  and dance for each other before heading back out and taking another final, long moment river side. I laid out my jacket and did my best to submerse myself in the moment, letting the rest of it all go. I let the sun lay heavy on me and warm my skin, but I was also very aware that as heavy as the sun felt, the lightest breeze was able to blow it off of me like feathers. I thought about how that place out there, on that river, being cared for by those people is a special place. All of the elements involved make it so. The thought constantly ran through my mind of what it would be like to spend all of my time out there like my friends do. How they must know so much more about everything I was seeing for the first time.

I determined, after my rest on the side of the river, that it was time to leave the ranch. I had no more turned off the gravel driveway and back onto Lower Spring Creek Road that I noticed something unusual in a tree. I took out my camera, and as I often do when trying to identify something, I used it like binoculars to simply reveal a closer look at something far away. I was excited and astonished to discover the thing I was looking at was a porcupine. The tree was growing very close to the side of another driveway and I decided the precarious creature was worth the trespass and I drove down to get a better shot. While I was setting up, a woman pulled down the drive after me and stopped. I smiled and walked up to her window and pointed out that I was only there taking pictures of the poky creature. She exclaimed “Oh, I saw that bastard wandering around my stock dam the other day and I tried to shoot him but he got away!” I instantly felt very bad for the little guy. I felt like I had blown his cover and still fear that my discovery may have led to the end of his life. When I left him he was still with us and I choose to believe he was able to scamper down and wonder on before the lady was able to return with her gun. Sadly, we have to accept that some things are beyond our control and, as I stated before, I am not a rancher, I’m certain that if the lady felt my tree friend was a nuisance, she had good reason.

I had several hours left in my day though and didn’t want to head back to “real life” just yet. So, when I reached highway 44, instead of turning left to head back to town I took a right which I knew was going to take me straight to the Badlands. I was excited even though it was a road I have traveled many times before, I was just anxious to see what it was going to serve up today. My decision to turn right was rewarded almost instantly when a coyote ran across the road and stopped on a ridge before bounding off just before I was able to get a good shot. Moments later, a large hawk flew up in front of me dangling a snake from its fiercely gripped talons.  I wasn’t able to get a good shot of either of them but took it as a clear sign that I had made the right choice and that my journey would continue to be rewarding.

The highlight of my side adventure was meeting a lovely couple at the Sage Creek Campground named Randy and Sheri. I was instantly struck by their curious travel rig – they were inhabiting a strange looking ‘camper’ pulled by a Subaru, both covered from top to bottom in vinyl wrapped endorsements and logos. The most prominent of which being Eddie Bauer and Back Packer magazine. I conjured up the courage to ask about their get-up and they were happy to educate me. They said:

“We are on a mobile tour called “Get Out More” sponsored by Backpacker Magazine and several other outfitters advertised on the vehicles.  We specialize in outdoor education about practical skills, techniques used to enjoy outdoor life.”
(learn more about them at www.getoutmoretour.com)

“the money shot”

I couldn’t help but inquire about ways to submit photography to the magazine on a freelance basis and the Randy was happily invited me to email him and he would send me all the information I needed to know about that topic.

We said our farewells only to have one more encounter down the road as I was precariously perched on the side of a drainage ditch attempting to capture a photograph of another great buffalo doing his best “Iconic Buffalo-Perched-on-a-Hill” impression (he was doing a fine job, by the way). My friends in the Subaru stopped and shouted from the road “That’s the money shot right there!” I waved and smiled and said “It’s certainly not a bad one at all” and they drove off. The encounter delighted me on several levels. If there’s some sort of future developments there for me, and Backpacker Magazine feels my photos are worthy of printing, that would be great. But there was a second level of appreciation I had meeting two people living their dreams.

My excursion lead me across the western rim of the badlands that cuts just above the Sage Creek Basin, and back to Wall with a few more buffalo encounters and some fun time with the prairie dogs. The return home on I-90 was fairly uneventful but that’s completely ok. It gave me the chance to reflect on my experience on the plains and about how lucky I am. They weren’t lying when they said it’s all who you know. To my friends at Wild Idea, thank you again soooooooo much and a hundred times more. The gift you gave me this weekend is un-repayable. I am just simply grateful.

Its snowing again… Its April 21st… I’m over it.

Yesterday though, was a gift. It was supposed to rain but it held off long enough for the sun to come out and melt off a majority of what we were given earlier in the week. Signs of spring are everywhere, but no where more than with in the mysterious dances of our feathered friends. I took a drive with my mom through the back roads to the north east of us and then a second trip into the woods with my cousin to find the blue birds.

I’m not sure why its all about birds right now, but it seems to be regardless of intent. I’m enjoying my time with them though. They are truly magnificent creatures. I’m patiently waiting and passing the time until the hills ready themselves for exploration. For now though, I’m just glad these guys are willing to wait around for me to find them.

Once again, the question arose; “Do I want to go hills or plains?” this time though, the sky made the decision for me. Usually when I’m facing this decision I am trying to figure out which way to head out of town, but yesterday I was trying to decide which way to drive home from Spearfish. I looked towards the Black Hills and they were covered with grey flat clouds, to the east the sky was broken, brightly contrasted between the deep thick dark blue storm clouds and the bright white where the sun was trying to break through. You could just tell that was where the cool stuff was.

I used the GPS on my phone to suggest a few routes home and decided to take Look Out Mountain Road out of Spearfish and then tried to stay on dirt roads and to the east of I-90 while still heading south. The roads were muddy, the wind was blowing and it was really really cold but that didn’t seem to keep the critters away.

I was delighted the first time Bear Butte showed itself. I love Bear Butte – It’s like a beacon, like Harney Peak, I know I’m not lost as long as I know where they are. Once I had the Bear in my sights I didn’t need the phone to find my way anymore – I just drove towards the mountain.

During the week, we had a rather substantial snow storm (see my earlier post about snowboarding down M Hill) and it was really windy out there. Occasionally the sound of my tires on the gravel would stir up the birds who were combing the recently revealed earth next to the road. Inevitably, I would disturb what they were doing and they would try to fly away but were always caught in the wind and thrown back with great force. I saw several different kind of birds who were treated the same way by the wind. Mostly meadowlarks and robins, but I did get to spend a little time with a beautiful American kestrel. I also found a frantic field mouse, some brand new cows and had a hilarious encounter with a prairie chicken on a fence.

I found myself on a great road.  I believe it was called Big Horn Road, I remember because it made me smile because of my recent quest to find and photograph animals by that very name. I decided the best way to document my location was to take out my iPhone and turn on the My-Fitness app. It cracked me up; the lady kept coming on every 3 miles or so to tell me how far I had traveled. She would say things like “time elapsed, 24 minutes. Miles gone: 9. Average speed: 4.7 miles per hour” (I’m too lazy to actually do the math, but what I really remember is that she told me it had taken me about 58 minutes to go 14 miles – it made me smile)

I spent a total of about 4 hours out there crawling along the back roads and I had called it a day several of times. I even had a failed attempt to head home when I tried to take the Alkali Creek cut off from Bear Butte to I-90 but I was forced to turn around when I reached a closed gate. A famous spring flurry had clouded the air but in the distance you could see Bear Butte glowing as the sun hit it behind the freak storm. I raced back to try to capture it but by the time I had reached a point where the whole mountain was visible, the storm had passed and everything was clear again. I turned left onto a road to turn back  but decided to see where it went instead.

It was on this road that I found the prairie chicken. It was so awkwardly perched up there that I wasn’t sure what it was at first. I thought it might have been a piece of plastic stuck to the barbed wire, it wasn’t until I got closer I realized it was a bird. But I still couldn’t tell what kind, I even thought it might be a duck for a second. Like I said before, the wind was really howling and was doing its best to get that goofy bird off that fence but it was downright determined to stay there. So much so that my pulling up, parking, backing up and pulling up closer to get a better shot didn’t disturb it. It just sat there and held on as tightly as it could with its over-sized feet.  Eventually it popped off the line and into the grass where it did what they do best and blended in among the brush until it disappeared completely. Just then my phone alerted me that I had a text message. It was from my mom. “Are you home yet?” it said. I responded with “no”.  She replied back “why not?” I smiled, turned the car on and drove home.

My adventure didn’t end when I got back to town. The sky called me up to Skyline Drive but this time it was passing in front of the sun casting great shafts of light all over the earth below. I raced up the winding road and was stopped by a magnificent crow who was checking out the view from the top of a dead twisted tree. I was so taken that I stopped in the middle of the road and grabbed my camera. I blocked traffic as long as I could before I headed onto the look out. It was a sight to behold but less impressive on camera than I had hoped. On my way back, I said to myself “If that crow is still there, I’ll take a few more pictures.” Not only was he still up there but he had called up a couple friends. I finished out my day with that crew and as I pulled into my driveway I realized; The journey decides when it’s over and if you keep your eyes peeled it will continue to be rewarding several times after you thought you were already done.

As my dog Tuesday ran the shoreline with me, I paddled away from our whole group, into the peacefully silence of a just waking ecosystem. For the most part it was all pretty effortless with the exception of a few places where I had to break the ice with my paddle to keep going. Where there was ice it was pretty thin and manageable. But then all of a sudden it changed into what I can only refer to as “Magic Ice” – the best way I can think to describe it is that it was like millions of pencil shaped ice crystals floating in water. That might not sound that cool, but when you hit the ice with your paddle the singular ice crystals would pop up out of the water and create super awesome towers. It was simply one of the coolest things I had ever seen. I went back and got Jaci and we spent hours whacking the ice and delighting in the results. It was like kayaking through a giant slushy.

Now, throughout the year, I would tell the story of the magic ice to people, and I would whip out my phone and show them the video of it and they would almost always say the same thing “I wonder if that’s something that normally occurs or if it was something truly unique?” Which, I have to admit, I thought to myself at the time of discovery. I mean, how cool would it be if we were the only ones who had ever seen that phenomena before?!?  The naturalist/scientists/discoverer in me had a solution to this. Why, we’ll just go back again a year later and see if it happens again. So, we did….

Unfortunately, This year’s trip up wasn’t as rewarding. After getting stuck in the snow on the way we finally reached the lake only to be greeted by nothing but ice. We knew it was much colder this Spring and we budgeted in an extra week before we went back, but sadly the lake and the magic ice still wasn’t ready. We arrived to a solid lake, frozen (almost) all the way to the shore. There was no way to get a boat into the water. That didn’t stop us from spending some time exploring along the shore line and witnessing a new phenomenon that was pretty cool… behold:

My theory is that even though the layer of ice was the size of the lake, it was free from the shore line and therefore floating on top of the water. The entire sheet of ice was bobbing up and down very subtly and creating the illusion that the water was draining out of the lake and then filling up again. It really did look like the lake was breathing and was completely hypnotizing.

Our quest to find the magic ice wasn’t a total failure though. We did discover that the ice crystals were there, they were just still too frozen together to create the magic pop. I think a couple more weeks and we’ll be in business.

I’ll be sure to let you know the results.

Until next time!

I dont know about you but I am ready for spring. Its not to say I’m not thoroughly enjoying my adventures out into the elements, but today we had a pretty close brush with vulnerability I could have done with out.

When Amy got in the van I simply said, “Hills or Prairie?” To which she replied “prairie.” We decided the best route would be south on HWY 79 and then east on Lower Spring Creek Road. The occasional snow drift across the road didn’t get to bad until we were pretty much all the way out into Nowhere. You see, out there there is not much to block the wind or anything that might get caught up in it. Last week it was dust, this week… snow.

We were only a few miles short of completing our loop and connecting with HWY 44 when all of the sudden the road turned to the right and just sort of disappeared .. and I’m not exaggerating… It was just gone. You couldn’t tell where the road ended and the prairie began. It was just snow. Although I knew better; I let the van slow to a stop as I tried to figure out where we were supposed to go. As soon as forward momentum stopped I said out loud  “oh shit, I shouldn’t have stopped” and I was right. Under the thick layer of drifting of snow lie a thick layer of ice. (Amy found that out the hard way). Finally, after I spun the tires all ways; forwards and backwards, left and right, I was finally able to find enough traction to back out and then pulled an “Austin Powers” (as Amy so eloquently put it). Once turned around we decided it was best to just turn it around and head back to town. Now, all this isnt to say that I’m not fully capable of finding trouble when the weather is good, and the roads are clear, I just look forward to not freezing to death while I’m standing around scratching my head trying to figure out how to get out of it.

Here’s a couple I was able to capture today, enjoy!