Trappin’

Winter                   Waxing Cold Moon

Got to the stock show at about 7:30 am today.  I was early enough that there was no one checking passes or tickets, exhibitioners had not yet come and there was only one place serving food.  And it hadn’t opened for business.

Reminded me of the trips I used to take to the Indiana State Fair with my mom.  We went by Greyhound Bus because Mom never learned to drive.  That’s strange, isn’t it?  Just resurfaced as I wrote this.  Because of the Greyhound schedule we would get to the State Fair before the crowds.  Clean up crews would still be sweeping up from the night before and stock exhibitors would be getting their animals ready.  It’s a good memory and one I was happy to revisit.

While I admired a badger pelt, the man who trapped it came out and we got to talking.  He explained a host of unintended consequences from such things as eliminating the spring bear hunt and limiting trappers in what they can do.

Colorado’s Dept. of  Wildlife now kills as nuisance bears the same number as bear hunting did.  When the bears were hunted, the populations stayed steady, but with no hunting pressure and the growth of outlying development, bear numbers have skyrocketed. According to this guy, who seemed very balanced. The result is bears forced to forage in urban areas or suburbs because the wild territories have dominant adult animals in them.

In addition, this guy, a trapper who lives in Summit County, where Breckenridge is, said when he began trapping there were few to no raccoons in the whole county because winter was cold and long, eliminating food sources for enough of the year that it was not good habitat for them. Summit raccoons are now abundant, “You should see a mid-winter Breck raccoon, lotsa fur and fat.”

He makes his living trapping nuisance animals, mostly wild animals living high off pet food, garbage dumps and even purposeful feeding.  Animals that, again according  to him, could still be managed by trapping as it was practiced.

I watched Simmental Cattle judging and a junior showmanship event for hogs.  As the place began to fill up, I packed up my purchases, boarded the bus and came back here for a nap.

Young Family

Winter                       Waxing Cold Moon

Next to last day in Denver.  Last night Jon and Jen and I went to Fogo de Chao, a Brazilian steakhouse.

They have two young kids, Gabe and Ruth.  Gabe got his hemophilia diagnosis not long after his birth a year and 8 months ago, so they have had to cope with it; never more so than in the middle of this year when he began experiencing spontaneous bleeds.  This meant a port and every other day infusions of clotting factor, given by Jon and Jen at home.  In addition, Jon’s shoulder, crushed in a skiing injury a few years ago, got worse and required shoulder replacement surgery.

This is a pretty high stress level for a young family and they have handled it with real grace.  Tensions, of course.  But they have remained positive and forward looking, not giving in to despair or hopelessness.

They have also raised Ruth into an exceptional three-year old, bright and funny and wise.  Gabe’s a happy boy and really beginning to move around now after a slow start.

They needed some adult time and we got it.  I told them how much I respected the way they had handled all they’ve had in their lives this past year.  Worth every penny.

Writing

Winter                            Waxing Cold Moon

“I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word in reality. This is why right temporarily defeated is stronger than evil triumphant.”   MLK

Today has been a rest day, at least from the grandkids.  Jon and Jen are back at work and I head over there at 5:00 for  our dinner out this evening.

I wrote all morning, pushing my draft further along.  It’s going well in a way that surprises me, flowing for the most part.  It makes me feel good, productive in a way other things don’t, even the garden and politics.  I suspect that’s because it is an act with little in t he way of intermediaries, at least in the creative phase and in that regards represents me most fully.

Of course, that’s also the frightening part, the exposure of the Self to others with no screens, no personas.

The Express

Winter                                Waxing Cold Moon

Just watched The Express, the story of Ernie Davis, the first African-American Heisman Trophy winner.  It was heartfelt, but long.  The story though is compelling, a black athlete growing up as Martin Luther King became prominent, a young man finding his identity both as a man and as a football player.  It has a dark side, too.  His eventual diagnosis of leukemia, coming right on the heels of his signing with the Cleveland Browns.  He died the next year, 1963.

I Want My Mommy.

Winter                  Waxing Cold Moon

Ruth and I went to see the Superdogs.  This was our third day at the stockshow.  She surprised me several times.  The first time was on the sidewalk heading to the shuttle.

“My legs are asleep,”  she said.  Then she added, “Sometimes my legs wake up when I’m asleep.  They go to back to sleep when I wake up in the morning.”

On the bus to the stockshow, she looked out the window a long time. I thought she was enjoying the ride, but she said, “Granpop, I want my mommy.”  Her voice quavered.  Uh-oh.  We were almost there.  I offered to call Jen and did so, but the bout of homesickness passed.

At the superdog show,  about an hour + into it, she said, “Granpop, I don’t want to see this anymore.”  So we didn’t.

We also went in the stock barns and after getting a bit of a way in she said, “Let’s go back outside.  I don’t like the smell  in here.”

It’s easy to forget that young senses are so much skilled than ours, especially when ours are 62 plus years old and had to live through a bout of cigarette smoking to boot.

Just another day as Granpop.

Another Warm January Day

Winter                             Waxing Cold Moon

It’s 52 today here in Denver, sun shining, blue sky with a few cirrus clouds nearby and some cumulus off in the distance.  The Rockies have snow caps and grace the western horizon with a view that makes any nature lovers heart race.  This is a great state from an outdoors perspective.

Today Ruth and I hop on the shuttle and go to the stock show.  Again.  Third day in a row.  We’re gonna see the super dogs.

I read an ESPN article that analyzes New Orleans vs. the Vikes the same way I do.  We match up very well against them.  If our defense, especially Jared Allen and Ray Edwards throw Brees out of his rythm, and if Peterson can smash the Saints center, we should go on to the Super Bowl.  I believe those things will happen.

Going Rodeoing

Winter                              Waxing Cold Moon

The Rodeo!  Began with a bang.  Fireworks and laser lights.  The first event was bare back bronc riding.  These horses rear back, jump off, all four hooves off the ground, then plunge back to the sawdust.  It’s a brutal experience for a rider though the horses seem to enjoy it.

After this big men with horses went after one poor calf with ropes, hoping to stop it–the header–and bind the rear feet with a lasso, the footer. Must have been hard because most of the teams failed.

Somewhere in here Ruth said, “Granpop, this is fun!”

Next came the saddled bronc riding.  This was very similar to the first event only with saddles.  Punishing.

Then came a horse and rider against a calf.  The rider lasso’s the calf, hops off the horse and ties three of the calves feet together.  The horse pulls on the rope to keep the calf subdued.  This too proved difficult since most missed.

Barrel racing had barrels with Qwest painted on them.  I thought this was appropriate because the contestants had to run in circles to win.  Just like dealing with Qwest.  The barrel race horses were fun to watch because once they’re around a barrel, they really dig in an move.

The last event of the evening involved grown men attempting to stay on the backs of large bulls.  Just why they do this was not explained, but it takes the whole bronc riding thing and put a lot more weight behind it.  This too must be hard because only cowboy stayed on the bull the required amount of time.

There were some novelty events.  Mutton busting involved children from 5-7 trying to stay on sheep as they run around the arena.  Most fell off immediately, but one 7 year boy held on while his sheep ran all the way across the arena.

Another children focused event had 12 tweens, girls and boys.  12 calves were let loose and each kid that caught and subdued a calf would get a calf to raise and have an opportunity to show it at the next Western show.  In this instance all the kids received help from adults and all got a calf.

While I was in Mexico City in the late 90’s, I went to a bull-fight at the Plaza del Torres, the largest bullfighting arena in the world.  Though it was, in a sense, more violent than the rodeo, the bulls die, I liked it better.  It had a sense of ritual, of grace, even elegance while rodeo seems almost entirely brute force applied in difficult circumstances–riders on bucking horses or bulls, ropers chasing down and wrestling calves to the ground.

Maybe rodeo is too young as a sport to have much ritual, but to me, it lacked the gravitas of the bull ring.  Why does this matter? Well, again, to me, the rodeo seemed about imposing human will on animal nature with cattle ranching as the context.  Bull fighting, on the other hand, is a ritual involving life and death, even art.  It takes the bull and its death with great seriousness with the context of Celtic culture as the back drop.

going to the big easy

Winter               Waxing Cold Moon

Day III in Denver.  Temps still high.

Over to Jon and Jen’s to watch the Vikes play Cowboys.  As Ruth said while we were on the bus going to the stockshow, “Yippee, Yi, Yeah.”  That was the Viking’s team I watched the early in the season. They looked fresh, the defense tackled, the pass rush caused at least three fumbles not to mention hurry-ups, sacks, and blocked passes.

I’ve been a believer that this team, when they come to play, can beat anybody in the NFL.  I think we’re a particularly good matchup against New Orleans and the Colts so I’m expecting a great finish this year. Yes, I had my doubts after Carolina and Arizona, but the last half of the Chicago game and the whole Giants game showed what we had.  So did this one today.

In 30 minutes the gang and I go to see the PRCA rodeo.  This is the rodeo big leagues.  To the best of my knowledge I’ve never seen a rodeo, though I have seen a bullfight.  I’m looking forward to it.

Mark Odegard sent me a shot of Halemaʻumaʻu erupting.  This is the current home of Pe’le and she is definitely in the house.  On several occasions I’ve walked over the edge of this pit and thought about gods and goddesses, standing beside offerings left by native Hawai’ians and often choking from the sulfurous gases emitted.  She can fill the whole caldera if she gets on a tear and who knows, this might be one.

Today: Miss Rodeo Utah

Wmter               Waxing Cold Moon

Though I chose the Cold Moon name for this full moon, Colorado isn’t.  Cold that is.  Here in the Mile High City the temperature yesterday was 58. Confusing to this northern boy who had on too much clothing.

At Smashburger yesterday, I sat waiting on my hot dog.  Smashburger is a new franchise, at least to me.  They fry their burgers.  Which seems like gilding the lily, so I went for the hot dog.  They fried the bun.  Anyhow, while waiting I got that on vacation feeling, an unfamiliar place in unfamiliar weather. It was a surprise because I consider these family visits just that, not vacation.

Jon thinks the Vikes are gonna get clobbered.  I can see why he thinks that, but I prefer to see the  8-0 at home record and the last six quarters of their play.  The Saints picked up where they were just before they lost three in a row.  I don’t see why we can’t.

My second breakfast here at the Marriot.  Seems hotels have gone the way of the airline industry.  No more free breakfast. Now it’s buffet with a price tag.  Still, I’m a captive audience since I want to come back up to the room and write.  This morning I dined near Miss Rodeo Utah.  A blond-haired beauty with teal colored cowboy boots and real tight jeans.  And, you guessed it, a big belt buckle.

A Day at the Stock Show

Winter                     New Moon (Cold Moon)

One day at the stock show under my belt.  Jon and Jen, Ruth and Gabe and I boarded a shuttle at the Doubletree Hotel.  The first guy I talked to was from Detroit Lakes.  He used to bring cattle down here, but stopped in 2004.

At the stock show we went into a building filled with all manner of farm and ranch implements, metal implements to hold cattle and harrows.  There were also the usual beer halls and Cattlemen’s Grill.  There were, too, rope makers, Colorado Rice Inc., a place that crafted brands, a man who blocked and reshaped cowboy hats while you waited.

It was like Minnesota’s State Fair in some respects though the number of cowboy hats, boots and large belt buckles per square inch greatly exceed the Great Minnesota Get Together.  I’d like to know where this big belt buckle thing got started.  It requires a lot of room right around the stomach area.  This leads to displays of prize bellies in both men and women.

We went to a junior showmanship event for young lamb handlers.  While we were there watching, Ruth said, “Granpop, I like coming to the stock show.”

At the pony ride, Ruth, who told me she was too shy to ride them last year, let Luis put her up on a Shetland pony and proceeded to ride with her hand on the pommel, beaming and waving at Jen and Jon while I walked beside her, as she asked me to do.  She was no longer too shy.

Tomorrow night all of us go again. This time to the rodeo.  The next day Ruth and I go by ourselves to see the  Super Dogs.

I’d forgotten how many BTU’s little bodies put out.  Ruth wanted me to carry her.  A lot.  I like it, but she’s no longer small and the stock show buildings were hot.  The combination made me hot.

The Vikes and Cowboys tomorrow. New Orleans beat the Cardinals so if we win, we have to go the SuperDome.  Nobody said it would be easy.