BorderWest
People For Preservation of Our Western Heritage Catches Praise
The ranchers I know are an independent lot. They do not form groups, organize, or launch campaigns. They like open spaces, devoid of people. Informing the public on what it takes to ranch or its importance is not on an activity they relish or perform with any regularity. That a group of ranchers with ties to the local business community managed to overcome their natural inclinations to broadcast their message and form a large coalition of supporters may herald a new day in land conservation. [more]
As far as I can tell, Eckhart Tolle is a yogi—or at least he’s talking the same talk. And, as illustrated in his two bestselling books The Power of Now and A New Earth, walking the same walk. Clearly, he’s awake. He sees beyond the veil of illusion that keeps most of us believing that we are not all connected; that we are not all, inherently, made of love; that we are not each particular articulations of divine consciousness (of God, Buddha, or whatever it is that you choose to call the spiritual thread that connects and enlivens all beings).
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Bob Wire Has a Point (It's Under His Cowboy Hat)
Close Encounters of the Tourist Kind
For thousands of years, Native Americans have revered the healing powers of the Black Hills in general, and Devils Tower in particular. It is a sacred area. Of course the first white man to “discover” it said let’s conquer that son of a bitch. It has since become one of the holy grails of the climbing fraternity, and now is riddled with anchors and bolts driven into it by idiots whose only focus was the personal accomplishment of vanquishing this rock. The Park Service, in a magnanimous gesture, has asked that climbers voluntarily refrain from scaling Devils Tower during the month of June, out of respect for Native tradition. Wow. A whole month. How very generous. I wonder how the Park Service would feel if 4,000 Native Americans a year were scaling the Statue of Liberty.
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6degrees Astroblog
Cosmic Fireworks
The late scientist and educator Dr. Carl Sagan was fond of saying “we are made of star stuff.” What did he mean by this? In this month’s column, I would like to address this by discussing “Cosmic Fireworks,” in honor of our nation’s birthday on Friday.
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Bob Wire Has a Point (It's Under His Cowboy Hat)
MT to NC, Day One
Where am I? What day is it? Who are these people? Why does everything smell like hot tar and Corn Nuts? Oh yeah…road trip.
With our big ice chest and cook box strapped to our shiny new hitch-mounted cargo carrier, the roof-top box and the back of the 4Runner jammed to the ceiling with gear and supplies, we were off to our first destination: the gas station.
I asked Barb if she’d packed some snacks. “Oh, yeah, I bagged up some baby carrots and apple slices, and there’s a bunch of seedless grapes in the cooler. I also have some sliced cheese and some fresh veggies with dip. Sound good?”
“Yeah, it does. If you want to find yourself stripped naked and tied up on the side of the road somewhere. The kids will revolt. This is vacation, baby! That means vacation from eating right too. Don’t worry, I’ll grab some stuff at the gas station.”
We filled the tank ($4.05/gal.) and hit I-90 at 11:00 Saturday morning. Rusty and Speaker had their Gameboys charged up and settled in for the first day, which I figured would put us near Sheridan, Wyoming. Either that, or on the express train to Bitchandmoania.
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The Dog Blog with Kathryn Socie
Honoring the Elderly
I noticed it again the other night. Maybe it’s the evening light or maybe it’s just that time of day when things are moving slowly and I pay closer attention. As I settled in on the couch and the dogs crawled up beside me, I saw it in both of them. Foggy eyes. You’re probably familiar with it, the natural lens change that occurs in dogs at about 7 years old, that tell-tale sign of maturity. I caught it the first time in Walker over a year ago and was stunned. He is so lithe, muscular, wild spirited, playful and, somehow, older? Though I revel every time someone tells me what a cute puppy he is, the realization that he is not a pup, but in fact moving toward the other side of adulthood is a jarring reminder of the shortness of the canine life span, my absolute least favorite dog trait.
Walker and Weez are textbook healthy. Still, as eight year olds, anything can happen. Though they do everything at mock ten, go anywhere, run like maniacs without so much as a stiff rise as they get up each day to do it all over again (and perhaps longer, faster, harder), I know what being eight means. Rather, I know too well that dogs truly are short-lived animals. My dogs are seemingly in their prime, but that can change suddenly, rapidly. Not to mention the fact that if they max out their life span, which I am SO rooting for, we have ONLY ten years left. What a rip-off. I want so much more.
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BorderWest
New Mexico Wilderness Alliance Catches Blame
Heath Haussamen at NM Politics reports Senator Pete Domenici's chief of staff, Steve Bell, blames the New Mexico Wilderness Alliance (NMWA) for causing gridlock surrounding wilderness designations in Doña Ana County. Bell states
"You don’t have to be a genius to figure out that we have absolutely entered gridlock and nothing can happen because there’s too much at stake politically,” Bell said. “… The upshot is, once again, in my judgment, a group has proved a truth of an old saying that I used everyday for the last 36 years in this job: ‘Never let the perfect be the enemy of the good. Because the Domenici plan was not perfect in their [NMWA] view, they rejected it,” Bell said of the wilderness group. “Then they came up with a proposal they think is perfect, and now they are faced with the prospect of getting nothing.”[more]
Off the Reservation
The Prez and the Rez
As Obama and McCain battle for the White House, Indian Country finds itself in an rare position this political season:
Listened to.
But will it last?
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blog: ON RIVERS AND RANCHING
In the Shadow of the Lady of the Rockies
A night storm: I am driving home from Butte on I-90. Speeding down the grade to Anaconda I watch lightning bolts striking to the northeast. Some of them are probably falling on the ranch. The wind is strong enough to jog the steering wheel in my hands and with the windows down and stereo off I can hear thunder.
I drove to Butte earlier this evening. The sun was just starting the think of setting and this storm was creeping into the valley. The scattered cumuli of day were overhead, but to the west above Mount Powell the sky darkened like a bruise. The dark clouds spread.
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