Day #5, Part #2   Robert Leverett   Sep 01, 2006 12:40 PDT  ENTS, Day#5-Part #2: After leaving the Valentine Wildlife Sanctuary, Monica and I headed north toward the attractive little town of Valentine. Our ultimate destination was the Fort Niobrara Wildlife Sanctuary. Rolling northward, we gazed at the expansive Sand Hills that surrounded us in every direction. The country looked so spacious. It reminded me of just how large Nebraska is. The Cornhuskers have 77,421 square miles to move around in, making Nebraska one of our larger states. To be more precise, it is ranked #16. It once was ranked 15th, but Michigan is now listed as larger. How did that happen, you ask? In earlier listings, the areas of the Great Lakes were not figured into the total areas cited for the states, nor were the coastal waters included. However, geographers needed to show the areas of the Great Lakes that fall within the territorial boundaries or the United States as belonging to the individual states. So the states of Michigan, Wisconsin, and New York became instant beneficiaries of the vast acreages of the Great Lakes. But no state benefited so much as Michigan. The Wolverine State’s area skyrocketed to 96,810 square miles. It had previously been listed at slightly over 58,000 square miles, falling just behind Georgia and Florida. Wisconsin and Florida also made substantial gains by their adding water acreages. New York made a more modest gain. Small states like Massachusetts that border the ocean gained significant area at least as a percentage increase. For instance, as a consequence of adding the water acreages, Massachusetts leapfrogged both New Hampshire and Vermont in the total areas quoted. But I have mixed feelings about the addition of the water. For me, it sems odd to think of Michigan s larger than Minnesota. Something unnatural about that, huh, Lee?    Well, back to area statistics for Nebraska. The length of the Cornhusker State is an impressive 430 miles. Its width is 210. So for those all important comparison purposes, Nebraska compares favorably to my home state of Tennessee which has a robust length of 440 miles, but a whimpy width of 120 miles. The narrow width limits the Volunteer State to an area of 42,169 square miles. However, what Tennessee loses in total area relative to Nebraska, it makes up a tiny bit in altitude. Tennessee's high point is Clingman's Dome in the Smokies at 6,643 feet, while Nebraska's high point is a nondescript point in the southeastern corner of the state at 5,424 feet. Win some lose some. But that is not the real story for the maximum altitude of Nebraska. What is most interesting about Nebraska's high point is that, in general, altitude increases gradually from east to west. The increase is so slow that travelers fail to notice a change at all. Nebraska’s lowest point is in the extreme east and is 840 feet above sea level. But no mountains are encountered going westward, just an imperceptible rise. The average slop is on the order of two tenths of one percent. So, passage across Nebraska puts one on a very gradual incline, but it is sustained long enough to a mile above sea level. More than Kansas to the south or the Dakotas to the north (leaving out the influence of the Black Hills in South Dakota), Nebraska is the start of the high plains. I could go on with statistics, because I do love the numbers, but I would like to point out that I must be careful in doling them out when in Monica's company. Monica is extremely good with numbers, true to her professorial status, and she remembers them as well as anyone. But for Monica, numbers hold limited emotional appeal, so I have learned to moderate my daily output of ciphers when in her company on our trips. Monica likes to get to know the soul of a place, to experience its essence in a gestalt kind of way. The sound of the wind, fragrances carried on gentle breezes, the interplay of sunlight and shadows, the far horizon, the enormity of the sky above, muted earth colors here and bright ones there, sparkles on water, and the familiar songs of birds combine to induce a reverie in her. She lets go of her cares and merges with the spirit of the place. I don’t think I’ve seen anyone who so completely merges with the spirit of the land. I could learn much from her. After passing through Valentine, we headed out onto the Fort Niobrara Wildlife Refuge, a 19,000-acre preserve that features gorgeous views, impressive wildlife, and a bit of American History. After a distinguished history as a military outpost, Fort Niobrara was converted to a wildlife refuge on January 11, 1912. Today, a herd of about 350 bison, a few elk, and a growing number of prairie dogs are the wildlife mainstays. One can drive across rangeland and see buffalo on their terms. It is the safe way to see these great beasts of the plains. The bulls can sometimes reach weights of 2,000 pounds and stand 5 to 6 feet at the shoulder. We got to see part of the herd, although at a distance. After ogling the buffalo, we headed to Fort Falls, a scenic little waterfall hidden in a nearby limestone canyon which is cloaked with old-growth ponderosa pine, juniper, box elder, ash, cherry, and several other species. The stream making the waterfall drops into the Niobrara River, a 430-mile long stream in northern Nebraska that heads in Wyoming and then flows eastward to ultimately join with other small rivers before dumping into the wide Missouri. Least we ignore our avian friends, Fort Niobrara Wildlife Refuge is also a favored birding spot with over 220 species accounted for of which 93 breed in or near the refuge. I am unsure of how impressive that number is. Through Monica, I am gradually getting a feel for what represents a good birding place and what is just run of the mill. However, I gather from the literature that the Refuge is a pretty hot spot in Nebraska. A particularly noteworthy feature of the Niobrara River Valley, and of the Fort Niobrara Wildlife Refuge in particular, is that it is where east meets west in terms of plant communities. The shallow canyons of the Niobrara have served as a refuge for isolated plant communities dating to the last ice age. The Refuge deserves a lot more time that we were able to give it. But our time had run out and we rolled westward on familiar U.S. 20 toward Chadron, Nebraska and the famous Pine Ridge. In Wikipedia, the Pine Ridge of Nebraska is described as follows: “The Pine Ridge is an escarpment between the Niobrara River and the White River in far northwestern Nebraska (a small section extends into South Dakota). The high tableland between the rivers has been eroded into a region of forested buttes, ridges and canyons.” To our south, the light green of the Sand Hills grasses suddenly gave way to the dark green of the ponderosas, signaling that we had reached a very different kind of landscape. Pine Ridge has many attractions to include scenic views, old military forts, the Museum of the Fur Trade, Agate Fossil Beds National Monument, and other wonders. Lingering and exploring the Hills would have required that we had more time, but because we were on a tight schedule, we could only cast wistful glances at the dark, ponderosa-covered ridges as we sped by them. For instance, in the ridges, one can find bighorn sheep, elk, and mule deer. Such wildlife scenes harken to an earlier time when the region was truly wild as evidenced by the notorious Fort Robinson where Lakota war chief Crazy Horse was killed in 1877 and the chief of the Northern Cheyenne, Dull Knife, led a breakout in 1879 from a stockade. The U.S. Army wanted to herd the Cheyenne back to Oklahoma to a miserable, alien reservation. Dull Knife and his people just wanted to go home to the Yellowstone Country. That was an exceptionally dark period in our nation’s history.    It was tempting to for us to turn south, but we were pressing on toward the Black Hills. So at Chadron, we turned northward and in short order were in South Dakota. The grasses on both sides of the road appeared shorter. The land was drying out. We were in short grass prairie country where buffalo grass dominates. Ah yes, buffalo grass. Buffalo grass is a western mainstay. It is extremely important to the dry, short grass prairie because it is drought resistant. It develops well on sites that receive from 10 to 25 inches of moisture per year. It does not grow well in shade. It is resistant to overgrazing and retains its nutritional value after curing on the stem. Its golden brown color in the late summer and fall is most pleasing to the eye and it holds on to that color when lawn grasses have greened up. Its range is northeastward to Minnesota and Wisconsin and southward through Illinois and eventually to Louisiana. It is established westward to Nevada. The range maps show separate populations in Georgia and Virginia. Buffalo grass is way cool.     As we approached the Black Hills of South Dakota, I pumped Monica as full of statistics as I could get away with. The distant outline of sharp granite spires signaled that we were approaching the end of the Great Plains and were about to enter a mix of mountains and high plains. The Black Hills are one of my spiritual homes and there was much to share with Monica. But the hour was late so we chose to rein it in the delightful little town of Hot Springs. It was hotter than blazes, so I was thankful for a motel with air conditioning. Camping would have to be postponed for another day. We had a simple picnic meal at a table in front of the motel as Monica gazed at the pine-covered ridges. Some of the pines showed characteristics of great age and the vast majority had been living when Custer met his demise on the Little Bighorn River in Montana. That was a goodly distance away, but it was the discovery of gold in the Black Hills that set up that historic confrontation, of which more will be said later. I’ll stop at the eastern edge of the Black Hills and pick up the trip into the interior of the Hills on Day #6. Bob Robert T. Leverett Cofounder, Eastern Native Tree Society   Home