Category: People

Posted on

A Good Shepherd

Early Morning Start from Mantua, UT, Courtesy & Copyright Mary Heers, Photographer
Early Morning Start from Mantua, UT
Courtesy & Copyright Mary Heers, Photographer

Border Collie Sweeping Behind Sheep, Courtesy & Copyright Mary Heers, Photographer Border Collie Sweeping Behind Sheep
Courtesy & Copyright Mary Heers, Photographer

Entering Brigham City, UT, Courtesy & Copyright Mary Heers, Photographer Entering Brigham City, UT
Courtesy & Copyright Mary Heers, Photographer

“Here they come!”

I heard the cry as I was hurrying down the side of the road in Mantua to watch the yearly tailing of the sheep.

The sheep suddenly crested a small hill, and I was face to face with one thousand sheep on the move. I grabbed a nearby mailbox and hung on as the sheep rumbled by on all sides.

The sheep were on their way from the hills above Mantua to their winter home in Bear River City, 23 miles away. For 4 generations, Eph Jensen Livestock has had a dedicated right of way to make this journey, including the mile and a half on US Hwy 89 between Mantua and the Brigham City exit.

By now I had hopped in my car and was following the flock. They were keeping a brisk pace of about 5 mph. There were 6 shepherds jogging alongside. Then, there at the back, I spotted a hard-working Border Collie racing left and then right behind the last of the sheep, making sure they kept up with the big group.

It’s rare these days to see a sheep dog actually at work. But the International Sheep Dog Competition comes to Soldier Hollow every year, and I wouldn’t miss it for the world.

Here you can see teams from as far away as South Africa and New Zealand competing with local teams. Each owner and their Border Collie will step up to a starting pole. When the timer starts, the owner sends the dog up the hill and out of sight to gather up 10 rough range sheep and bring them back through a series of free standing gates.

Now at this competition, the owner then sends the dog up and over another hill, and the dog brings back 10 more sheep wearing bright red collars.

Up until now the owner has been keeping busy at the starting pole, blowing a whistle and yelling commands. But now both the owner and the dog enter a large circle marked off on the grass by a series of knotted red handkerchiefs. The task is to keep 5 sheep with red collars- and only these five sheep -inside the circle. This is no easy task, as sheep never want to be separated from the larger group.

Meanwhile the clock is ticking down. This is where time runs out for most of the teams. But for the few still in the game, there is a tiny box corral close by that the sheep really do not want to enter.

Ironically, the faster the dog moves now, the flightier the sheep become. Nothing but slow steady pressure will get them into the tiny pen.

I find myself holding my breath. This is where this year’s champion will be decided.

Win or lose, there’s much applause for each team. And for me, much gratitude to the men and women whose love and close communication with their dogs have given us a glimpse into the ancient art of being a good shepherd.

This is Mary Heers and I’m Wild About Utah

Credits:

Images Courtesy & Copyright Mary Heers, Photographer
Featured Audio: Courtesy & © Courtesy & Copyright © Anderson, Howe, Wakeman
Text: Mary Heers, https://cca.usu.edu/files/awards/art-and-mary-heers-citation.pdf
Additional Reading: Lyle Bingham, https://bridgerlandaudubon.org/

Additional Reading

Wild About Utah Pieces by Mary Heers

Soldier Hollow Classic Sheepdog Championship & Festival, https://soldierhollowclassic.com/

The 2023 Eph Jensen Livestock Sheep Trailing, Bear River Heritage Area, https://youtu.be/4s5gaWNxdpw

Posted on

The Tenacity of Beavers

Beaver at Dam, Courtesy Pixabay
Beaver at Dam
Courtesy Pixabay
The most important lessons I can give my daughter are not through me, but instead those found best in the wild. Though she can’t talk, I know she still listens. Though her childhood amnesia is inevitable, I know that neural circuits are still being formed. Those circuits will do her good one day.

Our favorite lesson is in the tenacity of beavers.

This winter, we took one of our favorite hikes through knee-deep postholing snow to one of our favorite beaver dams. The dogs trot ahead, sniff snuffing at the path, darting to the stream that runs alongside our trail and back, and lead us as they have many times before up the trail. When we come to the great beaver dam, one that assuredly took not just years but generations of beavers to build, we stop for a snack and water, and let our daughter sit quizzically in the springtime slush. I explain to her the parts of the beaver’s home: the dam, the lodge, how they store their food. She listens while she smushes snow in her mittens, neural circuits are formed, and we pack up to start the slushy walk back to the car. A good day’s hike and lesson. A Greek proverb is dusted off in my mind, that a society grows great when old men plant trees under whose shade they know they shall never sit. Those beavers are good Greeks, but likely poor hoplites.

Later that spring, we return to the dam, our trail shortened by melted snow. Snow is gone from the trail, but still holding fast in the mountains above. The travel is easier, muddier, but the beaver Platonic Republic justly endures. I explain the parts of the Castorian city-state yet again, and explain what the beavers are doing now as we see fresh aspen fells. They’re collecting good sugars and preparing for their kits. Kallipolis endures, as it has, another year out of dozens of millennia, and even without a cud of pulp in sight. I wonder if beavers have oral traditions?

Time then passes as we all pass through space, and summer buds, blooms, and begins to fade. The cattle have come, grazed, trammeled, and been driven off yet again. We return to Xanadu in the early morning before the sun beats hard. We can get even closer to the dam now that the Forest gates are open, and we prepare for our adventure. My daughter looks around excitedly and drinks water from her cup. The dogs look around excitedly at all the leftover cow pies to investigate. Luckily they’ve dried.

We exit the car and make our short way to the beavers only to discover that tragedy has struck between spring and now. The dam has burst. Like the River Isen, a great work of nature has blown a hole in the waterkeep, and drained the promised pond. The shoreline has receded like a tonsure, the lodge’s secret doors exposed as if by moonlit ithildin, and the water flowing with Newtonian determination towards Great Salt Lake.

It’s shocking at first, seeing this anchor of time heaved asunder, the work of generations of beavers up and smote by spring runoff. All that labor. All those lives well-lived. Perhaps not wasted, but at least now remembered with a sigh. I sigh out as well, and explain this all to my daughter. She listens, pulls on cow-mown grasses, synapses fire, and circuits connect. We complete our hike and eventually go home.

Finally, early this fall we set off for the utopia-that-was once more. Colors have begun to change to golds and crimson. The air is more crisp; the heat more bearable. We saddle up in the toddler backpack, and see what there is to see of the beavers. We arrive to the wonders of hope and joy, and the tenacity of beavers.

The dam it appears is not abandoned. The labor of generations is honored with the restoration of the work. Not in its entirety mind you, for that will again take years and perhaps generations, but the work is underway regardless. Greek thinking again prevails. Whether by purpose or itch it matters not, but slowly the pond is regrowing. The shoreline has risen to swallow back and douse bare earth, and the water is a bit more wine-dark. I excitedly show my daughter, who excitedly is playing with my hat, the work that has happened, and the work yet to do. The beavers will not quit when allowed to do so. They are tenacious little buggers whose teeth grow forever. We take it all in and continue our hike, and eventually go back home. A new proverb pops into my head. A society grows great when we get to work and, figuratively, give a dam.

I’m Patrick Kelly and I’m Wild About Utah.
 
Credits:

Images: Beaver & Dam Image Courtesy Pixabay, Public Domain
Featured Audio: Courtesy & Copyright Friend Weller, Utah Public Radio with and Anderson, Howe, & Wakeman.
Text:    Patrick Kelly, Stokes Nature Center, https://logannature.org
Included Links: Lyle Bingham, Webmaster, WildAboutUtah.org

Additional Reading

Greene, Jack, I’m a Beaver Believer, Wild About Utah, December 19, 2022, https://wildaboututah.org/im-a-beaver-believer/

Bingham, Lyle, Welcoming Rodent Engineers, Wild About Utah, February 7, 2022, https://wildaboututah.org/welcoming-rodent-engineers/

Hellstern, Ron, Leave it to Beaver, Wild About Utah, July 30, 2018, https://wildaboututah.org/leave-it-to-beaver/

Leavitt, Shauna, Beaver–Helping Keep Water on Drying Lands, Wild About Utah, April 17, 2017, https://wildaboututah.org/the-beaver-helping-keep-water-on-drying-lands/

Strand, Holly, Beavers: The Original Army Corps of Engineers, Wild About Utah, April 29, 2010, https://wildaboututah.org/beavers-the-original-army-corps-of-engineers/

Goldfarb, Ben, Eager: The Surprising, Secret Life of Beavers and Why They Matter, Chelsea Green Publishing, March 8, 2019, https://www.amazon.com/Eager-Surprising-Secret-Beavers-Matter/dp/1603589082/ref=asc_df_1603589082/

Posted on

Naomi Peak

Climbing Mt Naomi, Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer
Climbing Mt Naomi
Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer
Nature Journaling, Mt Naomi Hike, Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer
Nature Journaling
Mt Naomi Hike
Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer

Nature Journal Entries After Climbing Mt Naomi, Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer Nature Journal Entries After Climbing Mt Naomi
Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell, Photographer

One September day when I was a fifth grader, my dad pulled me out of school to climb the Pfeifferhorn, an 11,000 foot peak in the Wasatch Range. That was the most meaningful and defining day of my elementary school experience.

Years later, when I first arrived in Logan, my younger sister Heather and I climbed Naomi Peak the day before our USU classes started. We made it an annual habit. At just under 10,000 feet elevation, Naomi Peak is the highest point in the Bear River Mountains.

Fast forward forty years from that day on the Pfeifferhorn and I’ve made a career of taking students out of class and into the mountains. Outdoor school programs are synonymous with science, but you can justify any destination with the language arts curriculum by having students write for authentic purposes and read meaningful texts.

When I taught at Mount Logan Middle School, we offered a literacy-based summer school program for incoming sixth graders. Part of that two-week experience was an overnight backing trip up to High Creek Lake. The next day we would climb Naomi Peak, then pack down the trail to Tony Grove. It is a grueling journey. We did it with student groups two to four times each summer for more than 15 years. Our strategy was simple, walk until our students were tired, then sit down, eat snacks, create word lists, and read and discuss a chapter of the book we were reading together. When students began to fidget, we’d hit the trail again. We repeated the pattern for eight hours, or however long it took to reach our destination. We wove science, math, and social studies concepts into the learning, but our main curriculum focus was literacy.

Four years ago, we decided to carry on these traditions with our sixth graders at Edith Bowen Laboratory School where I work, facilitating outdoor experiential learning opportunities for students. The second week of school each year we take four separate groups of students from Mr. Baggaley’s and Mrs. Jenkins’ classes to Naomi Peak to start off the school year. The round trip is just over 6 miles and it takes us 6 hours with our learning stops.

When we reach the summit, we have students pull out their field journals and use their word lists from the trail to create vivid descriptions of their journey. This is the best classroom to teach writing—where students can write with purpose about real emotions and experience. Writing forces students to slow down, to be still, and to be fully present with the landscape and with their thoughts. It allows them to construct meaning.

One student wrote, “I kept doubting myself, asking if I should turn back—my thighs aching, my feet sore, my stomach hungry. Every doubt was a new reason to quit, making me question if it is worth it. But I made it.”

Students huff and puff and we talk about the importance of pacing and controlling our breathing. We focus on being efficient, not fast. Students make new friends. They build confidence and they have fun along the way—even if they don’t want to admit it. One student wrote, “It was meh.”

As an educator I’m accountable to the state to connect learning to curriculum standards—I take that seriously. Outdoor programs give purpose to learning—making the state curriculum a means rather than an end. But I’m also accountable to these little humans to bring joy to the learning process, to nurture their curiosity, and give them a sense of belonging.

I do wonder what these kids will remember about Naomi Peak. I wonder if they will ever come back in the years ahead. Will they remember the adversity tree we stopped to talk about? The steep inclines? How tired they were? Or will they just remember the euphoria of standing on the summit while a cool breeze blows all their cares far away into Wyoming?

A student shared her journal entry with me on the summit: “I have never been so proud of myself and my mental self. The view is unreal. I am so lucky and happy, but I wish my mom was here because she pushed me to go. I’m so lucky to have my friend. She helped me and I helped her. I can live life accomplished. I am calm and I am free.” Underlined twice, in giant letters, she finished her entry: “I am amazing!”

I am Eric Newell and I am Wild About Utah.

Credits:
Images: Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell
Featured Audio: Courtesy & Copyright Eric Newell
Text: Eric Newell, Edith Bowen Laboratory School, Utah State University
Additional Reading: Eric Newell & Lyle Bingham, Bridgerland Audubon

Additional Reading

Wild About Utah Pieces by Eric Newell

Morgan, Susan K, Geologic Tours of Northern Utah, 1992, Found on website hosted by Utah Geological Survey, Department of Natural Resources, State of Utah, https://ugspub.nr.utah.gov/publications/misc_pubs/mp-92-1.pdf

Mt Naomi Wilderness Map, Wilderness Connect, University of Montana, https://umontana.maps.arcgis.com/apps/webappviewer/index.html?id=a415bca07f0a4bee9f0e894b0db5c3b6&find=Mount%20Naomi%20Wilderness

Posted on

A Place for Growth

A Place for Growth: Blackberries, Courtesy & Copyright Joseph Kozlowski
Blackberries
Courtesy & Copyright Joseph Kozlowski
A Place for Growth
A Place for Growth: Grapes, Courtesy & Copyright Joseph Kozlowski Grapes
Courtesy & Copyright Joseph Kozlowski

A Place for Growth: Nectarines, Courtesy & Copyright Joseph Kozlowski Nectarines
Courtesy & Copyright Joseph Kozlowski

A Place for Growth: Peaches, Courtesy & Copyright Joseph Kozlowski Peaches
Courtesy & Copyright Joseph Kozlowski

I was raised in Laramie, WY, which boasts many qualities making it a pleasant place to live. It’s got a safe hometown feel, cool summers, a relatively close proximity to Colorado’s front range, and access to outdoor recreation opportunities such as the geologically magnificent Vedauwoo. However, Gem City is extremely dry and windy, making gardening of any sort challenging. I say this not to bash on my Alma Mater, but to explain why, when I moved to Logan for graduate school I was captivated by the astonishing climate, notably its ability to support gardening!

It was August, 2018 when I first arrived to Logan in my ’98 Tacoma packed to the brim with what I’d need for this next stage of life, and of course my Black Lab, Josi. I vividly remember emerging from Logan Canyon to a view of Cache Valley and being stunned by the lush surroundings. Later that day I discovered an apricot tree in a grass strip next to my new residence; orange/yellow apricots littered the branches and smushed ones lined the sidewalk below. As I casually picked and gobbled a few of the delectable treats, I realized there was a possibly for growing fruit here that I had had little experience with thus far in my life.

Naturally, filled with excitement and intrigue about being able to grow produce, I went to the local Anderson’s Seed and Garden with my visiting sister and bought raspberry, blackberry, and grape starts; as well as a small peach, pear, nectarine, and cherry tree. By the end of that day and with dirt on about every square inch of our bodies, we stood back and admired the newly planted additions, not sure whether they were planted correctly or if they’d survive the first winter. Well, 6 years later and miraculously, all the plants are bearing fruit, despite the constant battle with aphids, over and under watering, and the local Mule Deer thinking the leafy foliage is as tasty as the fruit the trees will produce.

This all brings us to the best part, enjoying nature’s candy! There is a wonderful sense of delight when I pick a peach from my self-planted, backyard tree and bite into the juicy, sweet meat. So, if you are like I was and have no experience growing, well, anything, don’t let that stop you from going to your local nursery and giving it a try. It’s a great way to take advantage of the beautiful climate the great state of Utah offers!

If by chance you find yourself with more fruit than you can manage, make sure to contact USU’s Harvest Rescue program who may be able to salvage leftover fruit and make it accessible to others.

This is Dr. Joseph Kozlowski, and I am wild about Utah!

Credits:

Images: Courtesy & Copyright Joseph Kozlowski, Photographer, Used by Permission
Featured Audio: Courtesy & Copyright © Kevin Colver, https://wildstore.wildsanctuary.com/collections/special-collections/kevin-colver Friend Weller, UPR.org, and Anderson, Howe, Wakeman.
Text:     Joseph Kozlowski, Edith Bowen Laboratory School, Utah State University https://edithbowen.usu.edu/
Additional Reading Links: Joseph Kozlowski

Additional Reading:

Joseph (Joey) Kozlowski’s pieces on Wild About Utah: https://wildaboututah.org/author/joseph-kowlowski/

USU Harvest Rescue, Center for Community Engagement, Christensen Office of Social Action and Sustainability, Utah State University, https://www.usu.edu/social-action-sustainability/get-involved/cache-gleaning

Anderson Seed & Garden, https://andersonseedandgarden.com