Billy Goats At My Door

Billy Goats At My Door

Wednesday, May 30, 2012

May 30, 2012, Estes Park, Lily Lake and the Baldpate Inn





Mason

Riley

Bella







May 30, 2012, Estes Park, Lily Lake and Baldpate.  You know, I could get used to this senior status stuff.  This was another relaxing day during which we did little.  After a late start, we walked around Lily Lake to work up an appetite for lunch at the Baldpate Inn.  I straggled behind Annie pausing to take in the scenery and photograph scenes which will be familiar to you.  She would stride ahead, glancing at her pedometer to be sure she was getting an aerobic effect, then turn and walk back to where I was framing a picture. 

I must admit that she was patient with me.  Not once did she scold me for lagging behind.  Oh, a couple of times she mentioned that fast walking is better than slow walking.  My response was that we had two different missions.  I was recording the sights for you.  She was trying to improve her overall health.  Now, I ask you, which is more important?

Along the trail, we happened across Betty Meyer, wife of Kent Meyer who is President and CEO of the YMCA of the Rockies.  Betty had - or, perhaps it was the other way around - three of their grandchildren in tow.  Riley, Bella and Mason are 6, 4, and 2 years old, respectively.  They were running ahead, lagging behind, throwing rocks into the lake and generally, being adorable.  Betty observed that she was trying to wear them out so they would take naps this afternoon;  you know, the usual grandparent master plan. 

Bella was telling me that you aren't supposed to fish in the part of the lake where we were standing.  I asked her how she knew that.  She pointed to the signs which warned against fishing in that area.  "Can you read, Bella," I asked. 

"Sure, can't you?" she retorted. 

I understand why Betty wanted them to nap this afternoon.

Tomorrow, we will meet the Bradley grandchildren at Stacey's house in Denver.  They can't talk yet, so they can't ask me embarrassing questions.  Beyond Denver, we will drift, probably southwest, but we really don't have a plan.  That's another reason why I could get used to this senior status stuff. 

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

May 29, 2012, Estes Park

May 29, 2012, Estes Park.  Photos and narrative will be few and brief today.  Frankly, we didn't do much and that was nice.  We inhaled the beauty of the mountains, hiked Elkhorn Avenue and loafed.  We thought back over the last 35 years when this place has been our second home.  It has been our second home even though our first home has changed. 

Estes has been the constant and it always will be. 



May 28, 2012 Haigler, Nebraska














May 29, 2012, Haigler, Nebraska - population, 157.  We made it to Judge Wright's birthplace today.  Our hosts were the Carlocks, Stan and his wife, LaNeta and brother Marv with his wife, Mary Ann.  They could not have been more gracious.  Marv happened across Scott in 2006 when Scott got lost trying to find the old home place.  Marv and Stan adopted Scott for the day and gave him the grand tour.  Three hours later, Judge Wright and the Carlocks were best friends.  It turns out that Scott attended the first grade with their mother at District School 67 South.  Her name was Harriet Long.  Scott says she got him in a lot of trouble by telling the teacher that Scott was using bad words.  That hasn't changed. 

The home place once consisted of several thousand acres covering several miles.  There was the stone farmhouse and a complex system of outbuildings including a grand old barn, blacksmith shop, chicken house, outhouse, bunkhouse for the farm workers and a separate house for the farm foreman.  Scott's parents lost the farm in 1933 due to the ravages of the Great Depression.  It was then that they moved to Missouri.  The buildings have been neglected for decades and have fallen into great disrepair. 

The Carlocks were raised on a farm outside of Haigler.  Stan and LaNeta lived in Omaha for forty years before retiring from their jobs and moving back home.  Marv and Mary Ann never left Haigler.  It was the Carlock brothers who dismantled the old schoolhouse and moved it two miles into town.  Over several years, they rebuilt it.  It is now the social hub of the tiny community.  

Annie and I spent four hours in Haigler.  Stan and LaNeta invited us to stay in the "White House," an adjacent dwelling - painted white, of course - which they use as a guest house.  We declined, but appreciated their kindness. 

I told the Carlocks that we would see them again when we bring Scott back home.  They have a grand ceremony in mind.  Among other collectibles, they have an old army jeep.  They plan to load Scott's ashes aboard, affix American flags to the vehicle and drive slowly out to what they now call the "Wright Place" with flags waving in the wind.  There, Stan will make a short speech and the ashes will be scattered across the land that Scott loved so dearly. 

But, I can wait.  I am not ready to give him up. 

Sunday, May 27, 2012

May 27, 2012, Prairie Dog State Park, Norton Kansas













May 27, 2012 - Prairie Dog State Park, Norton, Kansas.  On the road, again; next stop, Haigler, Nebraska. 

I apologize if I've told you this before.  Judge Scott O. Wright was born in a stone farmhouse just outside of Haigler, Nebraska, in 1922.  This year, he will observe his 90th birthday.  Judge Wright is an American legend and a national treasure.  He was a Navy fighter pilot in the Pacific during World War II.  He attended law school on the GI Bill and practiced law in Columbia until his appointment by President Jimmy Carter to the Western District of Missouri District Court in 1979.  He has completed more than 30 years as a District Judge.  He has served with honor and distinction.  He is still active, but doesn't go into the courtroom these days.  He is somewhat frail and uses a cane for stability.  His mind is still sharp and he still drives himself to the courthouse in his Thunderbird convertible.

Scott still talks like you would expect a Marine pilot to talk. He can't string together two sentences without tossing in an expletive or two.  He had a terrible temper when he was younger. However, he has mellowed and is now a very likable senior citizen who happens to have extraordinary power as a federal judge. 

Judges have lunch together on Wednesdays.  A while back, Scott was saying that he planned to have his remains cremated and his ashes tossed to the winds on his birthplace in Nebraska.  I thought back to the scene in Lonesome Dove when Captain Call takes Gus's remains back to Lonesome Dove to be buried in Claire's peach orchard.  

"Scott," I volunteered, "I'll take your ashes back to Haigler."  And, so the promise was made.  I will do that when the time comes. 

In the same conversation, I mentioned that Annie and I could detour a bit on this trip to Colorado, and I would be happy to take some pictures of the stone farmhouse which remains so vivid in his memory.  He talks about riding his horse to the one-room school where he got his early education.  He also muses fondly about the town of Haigler, population 150, where the family would go on Saturdays to shop.  I don't imagine there were a lot of choices.  Haigler is in the middle of nowhere in the southwest corner of Nebraska.

About 7-8 years ago, Scott stopped by the old schoolhouse and was approached by two men, Marv and Stan Carlock.  They told him they had moved the school into town and restored the building.  As they talked, Scott discovered that Marv and Stan were the sons of a little girl who was in his first grade class.

Tomorrow, Annie and I will meet with Marv and Stan in Haigler.  Scott called ahead and arranged for them to take us to the stone farmhouse.  I've talked to Marv on the phone.  He got to know Scott pretty well during that chance meeting years ago.  Marv said fondly and affectionately, "Well, Judge, I am sorry you have to serve on the same court as Scott Wright."  It has never taken Scott Wright long to strike up a friendship.

Today, we saw lots of barns, abandoned houses, dilapidated wind mills and decorated cemeteries on this day before Memorial Day.  Highway 36 is two lanes which sticks pretty close to the old Pony Express trail which began in St. Joseph.  It is a lovely drive, if there is such a thing in Kansas. 

Monday, May 21, 2012

May 21, 2012, Spring Green, Wisconsin















May 21, 2012.  Where would you find a $6000 bed, a $2500 leather chair or a $500 mobile of leaves?  We found them as original designs at the Taliesin Visitors Center, shown as picture number four, above.  The visitors center was designed by Frank Lloyd Wright.  Taliesin is the home and architectural laboratory of America's best known architect.  Taliesin is a Welsh word meaning "shinning brow."  Wright believed that you never build atop a hill, you build into it.  If you build on top, "there is no hill."  Taliesin is his 37,000 square feet home, autobiography and his life's labor. 

Taliesin was originally built for Wright and his mistress.  It was rebuilt two times after fire destroyed much, if not all of it.  The first fire was set by a deranged servant who first murdered Wright's mistress, her two children and several others with a cleaving axe.  The second fire was attributed to faulty wiring.

The pictures above require some explanation.  Though it cost less than a Hula Hoop, Annie didn't want to tour the home.  So, we drove by several times as she tried to take pictures from Harvey.  Each time she pressed the shutter, a tree or a road sign would jump in front of the lens.  Frustrated, she gave the camera to me and I took the pictures that actually look like something.  Annie is a sweet, lovely woman, but as a photographer?  Well,  the word "Doofus" is so hurtful, I won't use it.

Taliesin was Wright's home for most of his life.  However, there is also a Taliesin West in Arizona.  It, too, was designed by Wright.  In addition to the home near Spring Green, Wisconsin, Wright's first commissioned design, at age 19, was a chapel ordered by members of his family.  Over the years, he designed a barn, a wind mill and a school where his aunts taught until their retirement.  The complete complex sits on 600 acres in the rolling hills west of Madison, Wisconsin.  

Speaking of doofuses - which, of course, I wasn't - we spent 15 minutes and $25 today to learn that we should run the refrigerator on gas while dry camping. As it was explained by the owner of Quietwoods RV Center, running the fridge on DC current is like hooking a fire hose up to the batteries and running the electricity out on the ground.  The heating element used to heat the freon eats electricity.  "Always use gas when you aren't hooked to electricity and you'll never have a problem," he admonished us. 

I chuckled when he said it because I've been trying to get Annie to run the refrigerator on gas.  She doesn't like gas.  She is afraid of gas - and almost everything else in the universe.  She thinks that if we turn on the gas, we will die in our sleep.  So, she insisted on running the fridge on direct current, off the house batteries.  I have tried to gloat silently, but it has been hard.  It has been very hard. 

Malachi's blog will slow down for the next few days.  We are on our way home from the first leg of the trip.  We have chores at home and the office to attend to before heading west.  Malachi will blog again when he has something to show and tell.  See you then.