I assume I'm home by now, but I'm writing this column a few days ago from the wilds of northwest Kansas, not far from the Nebraska state line. It's the country of the Buffalo soldiers, Indian wars and Old West figures like Buffalo Bill Cody and Wild Bill Hickock.
I was a sheriff's deputy near here once and often patrolled 900 square miles by myself at night, but I don't expect anyone to remember me since I managed to stay out of gun fights and never had to shoot anybody even though a few come to mind who rightly deserved it.
Even though I love being out and exploring the grass-covered hills, it feels pretty good to be sitting inside an air-conditioned house today and writing this column since it's 100-plus degrees outside and the wind feels like its coming straight off the Mojave Desert.
It makes me wonder sometimes how the pioneers survived the heat and the cold here, with so little shade in the summertime and little shelter from the wind in the wintertime.
I once talked to an old Kansas farmer who told me the only thing between the North Pole and his hometown of Goodland, Kan., was a barbed-wire fence and the barbs had blown off. And it might be true. I unloaded lumber there when it was about 20 below and the wind was blowing hard out of the north. It felt colder than my nights out in northern Minnesota and the Dakotas.
It's not always so hot in the summer as it is today. They say it will cool down this week -- after we've left, of course. But I've seen it a lot hotter, too. I remember working outdoors when temps were above 110 quite a few times.
Maybe the weather extremes are why so few people live here, though I expect it has much more to do with the drier climate and the fact that it's farm and ranch country and farms are huge. Instead of small acreages, farms can be thousands of acres. Neighbors can be miles away rather than just across the section.
Tractors and farm machinery are big in comparison to what one usually sees in northwest Arkansas, too. I doubt some of the big planting tractors and combines could even turn around in some of our Arkansas fields. And, can you imagine planting a field or harvesting wheat or beans with a combine steered by GPS? I guess that's why the rows are so straight.
Living in northwest Arkansas, I kind of forgot what it was like to be able to drive miles down a highway and not meet another car or truck. In Arkansas, if a guy slows down to rubberneck a bit and look at what's planted in a field or what people are doing over there by the lake, he'll have a line of traffic behind him a mile or more long. In fact, a fellow can be speeding and still have traffic back up behind him.
I remember stopping once here, years ago, to take a quick photograph along the road. I got out with the truck idling and the wind blew the door shut -- and locked, of course. Not wanting to break a window, I walked home for a spare key. Three and a half miles I walked and never saw another person or vehicle until I was about home. In northwest Arkansas, I don't know where a guy could go if he wanted a few minutes alone and away from people.
It is amazing how much better the roads are here than in Arkansas. Since roads are paid for with fuel-tax dollars, it would seem there would be far better roads in Arkansas because of a much greater tax base. Well, it ain't so.
The roads here are smooth, wide and straight. A fellow could fall asleep at the wheel and possibly make it five or 10 miles before he ended up in a wheat field or cow pasture. The folks who built the roads here definitely knew that the shortest distance between two points is a straight line. Had Arkansas road builders come here, I expect they would have added S-curves every mile or so and cut deep ditches into the shoulders just to keep drivers awake and scared for their lives.
Just in case you are wondering, people do shop at Walmarts here too; just not as often. The closest Walmart is about 70 miles, or just over an hour's drive. The next closest is in Nebraska, about 100 miles from here. That, of course, makes it a little easier for small-town businesses -- especially those selling perishable goods -- to survive.
People, by and large, are much the same here as there. They're busy working and trying to make a living, and they like to enjoy time with their families when they can. Not being as accustomed to strangers around these parts, they do seem a little more hesitant to say hello to folks they don't know -- it just doesn't happen all that often, so they don't seem to know what to do.
Anyway, by the time you read this, I'll have had my fill of hot wind, straight roads and open spaces. I'll be back where there's plenty of shade trees, crooked roads and a lot more people to read my ramblings.
Randy Moll is the managing editor of the Westside Eagle Observer. He may be contacted by email at [email protected]. Opinions expressed are those of the author.
General News on 07/30/2014