My Page: Julianne Couch
Daily Yonder Feature
Re-Bound for Lost Springs, Population: 4
It is hard to find anyone at home in Lost Springs, Wyoming.
I should know – I’ve tried, on several occasions. A few years ago my motive to visit Lost Springs was to hang out at the Lost Bar as part of my “research project” to visit and document some of Wyoming’s remote watering holes-cum community centers. The Lost Bar was on a route, more or less, between the Western Saloon in Glendo and the Bill Yacht Club in Bill (population somewhere between 5 and 10, depending on the railroad schedule).
If the name Lost Springs sounds familiar, it may be because the town made national news of late. The victim of an egregious misapplication of arithmetic, Lost Springs was credited in the 2000 census with a population of only one, instead of the actual count of four. Many passing motorists’ heads have swiveled at the Population One sign on moderately busy U.S. Highway 18/20. And as goes the head, so goes the car, bewitching travelers into taking pictures of each other standing in front of the sign. Once they’ve stopped, they can’t resist the allure of the Lost Bar, the Lost Springs Post Office & Antique Store, the inviting grassy town park complete with swing set, and the pleasant public restroom.
[more]New West Feature
Uranium, the Front End of Nuclear Power: Abundant in Wyoming But With an Uncertain Future
On the other side of the Pacific Ocean from our position in the Rocky Mountain West, an earthquake and tsunami have triggered a catastrophe in Japan that officials say is the worst event in that country since World War II. In the last week, it has been impossible to miss seeing images of black water flashing lava-like onto the coast, taking villages out to sea and returning fishing boats and human bodies and sundry detritus back to shore in a stingy trickle.
Hard to believe any images could seem worse. But among the most chilling images from these recent days are of smoke billowing from a nuclear plant along Japan’s coast, and helicopters trying to dump sea water on overheating nuclear reactors.
Japanese officials are describing as a “nuclear emergency” the so far partial meltdowns or threat of same to up to four nuclear reactors at the plant. When the earthquake knocked out electrical power, operators were not able to pump water into the reactor to cool the fuel. Now workers are struggling valiantly to set up a new transmission line to the plant, but several reactors are now permanently disabled. On the news show comparisons to the Three Mile Island and Chernobyl nuclear accidents abound. So far the score is: Three Mile Island not as bad, Chernobyl worse.
Nuclear power isn’t a prevalent form of energy in our water-parched West. But these plants are common in the Midwest and East, with 104 reactors currently in operation around the contiguous U.S.
[more]DAILY YONDER FEATURE
A Wyoming Spruce in Washington
Deep in the Blackrock District of the Bridger-Teton National Forest, a 67-foot Englemann spruce faced an unusual fate. It might have been logged for plywood or attacked by tree-killing beetles. Instead, it was spotted by Forest Service employee Sandra Seaton, who thought it would make a perfect Christmas tree. U.S. Sen. John Barrasso (R-Wyo.) had pushed for the Capitol Christmas tree to come from Wyoming, for the first time ever, and thanks to Seaton, organizers had found the ideal one. “Sandra’s tree” was selected to be the most famous of its Wyoming evergreen brothers and sisters.
As Barrasso said, “People around the Cowboy State say we need more Wyoming in Washington. In Washington, folks can always use a reminder of Wyoming values – honesty, integrity, independence, and a strong work ethic. For the next four weeks, Washington will have a beautifully lit symbol of our state. This tree is Wyoming’s Christmas gift to America.”
[more]New West Essay
Restoring Home: A Reverse Migration
After two decades of life in the high, dry, windy country around Laramie, Wyoming, my husband and I planning next summer a move to Bellevue, Iowa, squarely in the Midwest, a few hundred miles from where we were born. We aren’t leaving because we’ve tired of the climate or the sparse population or the reckless commodification of fragile Western resources. We’re leaving because we want that splash of cold water that awakens one from the reverie of a too comfortable life. Nothing wakes one up like a self-inflicted cross country move.
It seems right to approach deliberately this life change that affects everything from where I walk my dog to my identity as a westerner. To get a handle on these shifts, it seems sensible to conduct a dispassionate inventory of goodbyes and hellos.
So.
[more]
