Anasazi Garden

Posted on August 8, 2015 by Dwight Lutsey

When many people think of the desert the first image that comes to mind is the Great Sahara desert, or perhaps the Skeleton Coast of Namibia, or the Great Sand Dunes of the Southwestern United states, or even your back yard if you don’t water it. A place barren and inhospitable to life. A place where nothing grows and you dare not venture far from water lest you perish. Which is a pretty easy thing to do if you’re standing out there in the noon day sun with no hat, which we would hasten to add you shouldn’t do, even if you are English and that comes natural to you. We’ve noticed that whenever we’re trapped in the desert and near death we always have a vision of Joe Cocker in his bright red English soldiers jacket singing “With a Little Help From My Friends” marching on before us. This always saves us and we make it back to civilization in one piece, thirsty but alive, but then we’re experts and trained for this kind of thing. But that’s just us, your mileage may vary.

But if you are somewhere like Johns canyon, Utah and its early morning you’ll see something entirely different. A desert garden literally brimming with life. It may be different than what you’re used to thinking of how a garden should be, but then you’re in a different place than you would normally be. As you journey through the canyons you will see small gardens tucked away in every nook and cranny, one after the other until you realize that this is a veritable oasis in the middle of a desolate land.

We are always struck by how similar in feel these desert gardens are to Japanese gardens, which couldn’t be more opposite in nature. The Japanese garden being lush and green with carefully manicured plants, with small trickling streams feeding into water-lily filled ponds, compared to this dry desert garden with its carefully chosen plants, tucked in amongst the boulders, placed just so to take advantage of what ever moisture may be sent its way. The color palette of this garden with its earth tones and giant boulders selected for their color and texture and positioned to fill the space but not overwhelm it is the same in feel if not color, as you find in the perfect temple gardens of Kyoto.

Sometimes we think, that is the experts in our botanical department who are paid to think about these things, think, that there must have been an early visitation to this land by wandering Samurai gardeners who traveled the world spreading their knowledge of how to make a perfect garden where one couldn’t possibly be, teaching people like the Anasazi how to have beauty in their lives in an inhospitable place. A group of Ninja gardening warriors, as it were, dedicated to creating beauty in even the most unreceptive, belligerent landscapes. Or not. But it’s as good a reason as any for the gardens being there.

Our First-strike gardeners here at *The Institute’s World-wide Center for Horticultural Research and truck farm have been collecting gardens just like this one and transporting them root and twig, back to our Botanical center completely intact, where our own hybrid gardeners keep and protect them for posterity. We have gardens similar in size and scope to this one that we have found throughout the world and brought back here to the Institute for safe keeping and our own personal viewing pleasure. Sometimes we let the public view them but not very often. You actually have to have some kind of pull to get in. If you’re interested write us and include your bio and an 11,000 word essay on why we should even let you in the front door and we’ll get back to you if you qualify. Thank you in advance for your interest.

* Note: For those of you unfamiliar with The Institute and what it does, please see the page labeled The Institute on the Menu Bar above. That should explain everything. You shouldn’t have one single question remaining regarding The Institute after reading it. None. For those of you favored few who already know about the Institute, Nevermind. Return to your daily activities. Thank you for your support.

CrowHeart Butte

Posted on August 6, 2015 by Dwight Lutsey

As you drive up that magical highway, highway 287 which runs from Port Arthur, Texas to Choteau, Montana, you will find many amazing and curious things. As the song said “You can’t get to heaven on 287, but you can get as far, as you can get by car.” Along the way there are landmarks and geological features and places where famous and infamous events took place and this is one of them.

This is Crowheart Butte, a place famous for a huge battle that took place here in 1866. The event took place, but exactly how it played out, is still open to discussion. There are several versions of the story but the one that has the most legs is this one I’ve passed on below.

Crowheart Butte is located on the Wind River Reservation somewhat East of Dubois, Wyoming. It is the home of the Shoshone tribe but this wasn’t always the case. In 1866 the Shoshone considered the entire Wind River area their own hunting grounds and vigorously defended it from any incursions by other tribes. The Crow who chose to also hunt here disputed that fact and lay challenge to the Shoshone that they would hunt here as they pleased and the conflict took shape. There were several tribes involved, The Shoshone, the Bannock and the Crow. The Shoshone and Bannock were allied against the Crow. The battle commenced and lasted for five days during which there was great loss of life on both sides.

The chief of the Shoshone, Chief Washakie, challenged the chief of the Crow, Chief Big Robber, to a duel to the death to reduce any further loss of life on either side. The chiefs would fight on the top of the Butte and whoever was the victor would decide who the valley belonged to and the other would leave to hunt there no more forever.

The one who was victorious would cut the heart out of the other and eat it as a symbol of his strength and power. Chief Washakie was the ultimate winner and defeating Chief Big Robber did cut his heart out. This is where the stories differ. Some say he did indeed eat his opponents heart and others say that he impaled it on his lance and brought if back to prove his victory. Supposedly when asked about the incident later in his life he replied “One does reckless things when you are young.” Regardless of the ending of the story regarding what was done to Chief Big Robber’s heart, the Shoshone were now the owners of the valley which later became the Wind River reservation as it is known today.

Because he was so impressed with his enemies fighting abilities, Chief Washakie chose to give Chief Big Robbers tribal name, the Crow, to the butte and the small town that grew up near there. Crowheart butte is visible from miles away and is the prominent feature in the area. It can be seen clearly from highway 287 as you travel from amazing place to another.

Blackfeet North American Indian Days – Rodeo

Posted on July 24, 2015 by Dwight Lutsey

This post has been moved to OpenChutes.com. All future postings of Powwows, Indian Relay Races, Rodeos and Rendezvous will be posted there from now on exclusively. So if you’re looking for new images and posts for all those events attended this year, plus all the old posts posted on BigShotsNow.com check out OpenChutes.com. See you there!

The North American Indian Days is an annual event held on the Blackfeet Indian reservation usually in July and is billed as one of the biggest tribal get-togethers in North America. They say North American instead of the Unites States because some of the participants are from tribes that live in Canada. It lasts for about a week, four days according to the advertisements, but everybody’s there early and leaves late so plan on at least five or six days if you want the full experience.

Rodeo plays a huge part in the festivities at the North American Indian Days. There are events for everyone and they provide a chance for the contestants to show off their skills in front of an audience of their peers. Winning a pot full of money for being the best in their event doesn’t hurt either. There are numerous events and many contestants in each one so we’re going to present an overview of the rodeo. Some of the highlights of each event and some of the atmosphere that makes going to the Rodeo such an exciting experience. In the shot above you see that everyone doesn’t walk away a winner. At least not this time. But there’s always the next event and the outcome can be completely different. This is a longer post than usual because there is so much to take in. Read it at your leisure or just look at the pictures. Both work. As always click on an image to see a larger version.

As in all events the rodeo is opened with presenting the flag and paying tribute to our great country. Because there were such a large number of Indian participants and visitors present from Canada they proudly displayed their flag with ours.

The first event was Barrel riding where the rider enters the ring and rides a pattern around three barrels. The horse and rider have to act as one and you can see the effort and concentration by both in this shot.

Rodeo is a family sport. Each member has an event they participate in. Here a dad is showing his son how to do it. The youngster is only three years old. Rodeo starts early.

Whenever you deal with steers or bulls you are tempting the fates. The rodeo actually started in the chute before the door got opened and consequently the participants both human and animal, tumbled out into the arena. This is not an opportune way to begin your ride.

Here the bull had divested itself of its rider and was celebrating. In speaking with the rodeo clown later he was asked what his plan was in running in under the bull like that. His reply was that he thought he could catch the bulls hind legs while they were in the air and hold him up while he wheelbarrowed him over to the catch pen. Unfortunately that did not work out. The clown is still alive though and already working up new ideas for the next event.

In the team roping event the plan is for one roper called a header to get a rope around the calf’s head and the other roper called a heeler to get one around the calves back legs thereby immobilizing the calf so it could be branded. This time the heeler or back leg catcher got his rope around only one leg instead of both. Still counts but with a ten second penalty added to their score.

This event is called the Tie down or break away event. The end of the rope used to catch the calf is tied to the saddle horn with a piece of string and the rider ropes the calf. The horse immediately stops and when the calf runs out far enough it breaks the string and time is called. Fast, fun event.

Here we see “How to Catch a Cowboy”. The trick is to convince the cowboy to hop like a rabbit, while the cowgirl acts as a heeler and ropes his feet while he’s in the air. When she catches him, he’s quickly hog-tied and, well, caught. What happens from that point on was not displayed. This was not an official sanctioned event, but we were told it goes on all the time.

Bareback bronc riding is the event that started rodeo. Everything else evolved from this event. It’s pretty simple, you climb on the horses back and ride. He tries to throw you off. Eight seconds pass and if you’re still on the horses back you wins. If not, there’s always next time.

The horse will attempt all manner of things to dislodge the rider. He’s a coiled spring ready to explode.

Steer wrestling is when a big cowboy deliberately jumps off his horse to catch a steer and wrestle it to the ground. This event always looks like a mistake that grew into a huge exciting event. It’s serious though and one of the more dangerous interpersonal contact sports there is in rodeo.

However when it goes wrong, like here when the calf went another way just as the cowboy leapt from his speeding horse to bulldog it, you see that it terribly unforgiving of any error.

Besides losing your horse, the face plant in the dirt and the resulting mouthful of arena soil just adds insult to injury.

The amazing thing and the proof that you are watching truly exceptional cowboys is he never lost his hat.

The storyteller. All around the arena you will find spectators sitting on the fence watching the action and talking. And as it has always been there is one that can mesmerize his fellows with stories of amazing adventure and incredible action. HIs rapt audience hangs on every word. This is one of those storytellers.

Saddle bronc riding is just like bareback riding except you use a saddle. Still just as exciting.

These are the pickup men. They’re out in the arena to catch the cowboy off the back of bucking horses after the ride is over, catch and return the riderless horses to the catch pen, and generally do the work that needs to be done to keep the events moving steadily through the rodeo. It’s not a simple task and there is often a lot of action right up against the fence as things unfold. Besides the rodeo clowns these men are the unsung heroes of the rodeo.

They are also the ones that handle the unruly bulls and other bucking stock. They need to be experienced, unflappable men and they are.

Here’s another event straight out of the history books of ranch work. The calf roping. A calf is released, the cowboys chases it down, ropes it and he gets off his horse while it backs up holding the calf steady.

He quickly reaches the calf, ties all four feet together immobilizing it so it can be branded.

As soon as he’s finished you see his arms come up and time is called. The cowboy and horse work as a team and the better the teamwork the shorter the time.

Normally the last event on the schedule is bull riding. It’s last because it is the most exciting and the one everyone wants to see. This is the event that puts the show business in rodeo. There is very little need for a bull to be ridden in normal ranch work. You’re not going to break them to ride, or to pull a buggy to town. When a cowboy crawls on the back of a bull it for one reason and one reason only. To see if he can do it, can he ride this monster beast for eight seconds without getting killed or maimed. It is a test of courage. And people love to see it.

Many times the whole event is over before the bull clears the chute. But even if the event lasts for only a second or two it is packed to the brim with unbridled excitement. Enough so that entire events are held showcasing bull riding only. Lots of Ace bandages and liniment are sold at these events.

The rodeo is held several nights during the North American Indian days and it’s a new show every night. It’s an experience you won’t soon forget.

Announcement !

Posted on May 15, 2015 by Dwight Lutsey

As you could tell by reading yesterday’s post I’m on my way to Yellowstone National Park. http://www.bigshotsnow.com/the-words-out/ to take pictures and boldly go where everybody else has gone before. Since my last visit I have increased the number of research vehicles here at the Institute by one, adding the Mothership, a 30′ fully articulated vessel similar to the Black ships that plied the Sea of Japan in the early 1700’s, but with color TV and a microwave, and a place to store cookies, she has now become the stately old grand dame of our fleet. Able to tow our shuttle craft, we are completely self-contained and able to stay out on our journey’s for weeks at a time.

I hope to be able to post more frequently on this trip due to the increased technology included in the Mothership with the addition of improvements such as a table to place my webernet connection device, electricity to power all of the incredible technology installed in the IT room, and a electric hot plate to make my tea in the morning. Without my tea nothing happens, nothing, so this is a very necessary improvement over the coal fires used in the Bokeh Maru. As we will be touring the wilds of Montana, Wyoming and Idaho comfort and convenience are paramount. Our previous ship the Bokeh Maru has assumed other duties, although still remaining one of our principal vehicles in the exploration of the known universe, her role is to be more of a scout ship, used primarily for shorter forays. She will enter dry-dock for a D&C, or Dusting and Cleaning as it’s known in the trade, her reward for years of faithful service, then it will be back to work, hauling interns to projects, running down to the mailbox for the mail, and ferrying dignitaries up the hill to The Institute.

Now, having said I would post more frequently you must understand that this is still the 21st century and there are limitations at hand. There are unseen forces out there at work with nothing to do but bollix up our best laid plans and all that, so if I don’t post for a few days in a row do not freak. I’ll be bock. And if like in most or our explorations, where everything goes completely to hell in a hand basket, and I don’t post at all I’ll be back in a couple of weeks with stories to tell, adventures to relate, and clothes to wash. So wish us Bon voyage, steady winds at our backs, and remember, I’ll be thinking about you.

The Great Quail Migration

Posted on May 2, 2015 by Dwight Lutsey

When going through our archives the other day we stumbled across a treasure-trove of forgotten images. Deep in the hidden recesses of The Institutes’ storage shed we found photographic evidence of one of Nature’s most incredible stories, The Great Quail Migration.

Many of you I’m sure, have never heard of the Great Quail Migration as it happened way before the internet. But back in the latter half of the last century there was a great drought in the high plateaus of the desert Southwest. Plants dried up and died. Insects disappeared and the Quail were faced with imminent starvation. The elders of the flock knew something drastic had to be done and hearing that the government was giving away land up along the Snake river in Idaho to any quail brave enough to make the journey they decided to attempt the long dangerous trail North.

Gathering the flock together they started northward. At first there were just a few hardy souls determined to find a better life, but as word spread of the possibility of a land of plenty just laying there for the taking, others joined in.

Soon there were dozens then thousands until the earth was dark with mottled bodies of quail heading North.

The journey was long and arduous with many of the original flock falling by the wayside. but their determination never wavered. They steadily kept to their dream of tall grass, abundant insects and safe havens. Young were born along the way to replace those that had fallen, prey to the many predators who shadowed the migration.

When the journey seemed to be at its darkest point and it looked as if they would never reach that magical land, the miracle finally happened. They reached the border the government had erected to set aside the land that was to be the home of the quail for as long as the sun would shine and the grass would grow. That was the land that was to be given to any quail that could reach it, for now and forever. Tired, hungry, footsore, feathers dusty with travel they entered one by one into the promised land and safety.

The patriarch who had led the flock those hundreds of miles, who had evaded predators and sickness, who had kept hope alive and guided them unerringly to the final spot where they could begin new lives, was the last to enter.

Realizing what they had left behind, and the price they had paid for it, he took one last look back at the past. Standing at the border that represented safety and a new beginning for his flock he seemed satisfied with what they had accomplished. They had completed the Great Quail Migration.

Today his descendants can still be found living peacefully along the riverside in the Snake River Raptor Rehabilitation Area, a testament to the quails determination and bravery that still is prevalent today.

As always we are proud to be able to bring you the stories of these amazing and often heroic events, many of which never happened, and to share with you the incredible but unbelievable tales that have been captured on film and more recently pixels. We do this so that you too can share in Nature’s glory. No there’s no need to thank us, it’s just part of our job.

Grace and Tranquility

Posted on April 10, 2015 by Dwight Lutsey

Grace and Tranquility are recent graduates of Swan Training School and are back in Yellowstone National park as new members of swan society. Their job is to swim the quiet rivers of the park, displaying all the qualities of mature young adults, preening, posing gently in the smooth backwaters of the river bends, projecting an air of beauty and refinement you’ve come to expect from swans.

Those of you who are quick studies will notice that Grace is doing what she was trained to do but Tranquility, her classmate, seems to be missing. This is unfortunate because swans, although beautiful when seen alone are of course doubly beautiful when displayed in pairs and the normal procedure would be for the two of them to show up at their appointed places and work the river together.

It seems that Tranquility, always a willful child had a few problems at Swan Training school and nearly missed her graduation due to some disciplinary problems. A quick note here. Sometime, back around the first of last year, we at The Institute made a startling discovery of the existence of the Swan Training School and wrote about it after infiltrating the school to get the inside story of how young swans are made. You can read about it here http://www.bigshotsnow.com/2014/01/17/ . The training we found was harsh and rigorous. It’s a difficult road for young swans and the molding process used at the school is designed to break down individuality and force a form of collective thinking that produces a “Finished Swan”. Many make it through but some don’t. Tranquility was one that had some trouble.

. The training nuns of Our Sisters of the Immaculate Plumage, the nuns who run the school, despaired of Tranquility ever being able to graduate. They were quite firm with her and found her resistant to many of the aspects of swan training despite the measures used to get her “to get her mind right”. Finally they resorted to extreme training procedures, ones similar to those used in a large celebrity religion where there was shunning coupled with intense group crisis intervention methods, until nearly at her breaking point Tranquility agreed to be a “Good” swan. Nervous but convinced they had reached her, the nuns of the Fallen Plumage allowed her to graduate.

One of the events the recently graduated swans look forward to is Spring Break. They’re allowed to spend the two weeks prior to reporting for swan duty to attend the mass gathering of all the young swans at Padre Island and there enjoy the fellowship of their peers, laughing and singing and frolicking in the Texas sun. Being young swans they are expected to comport themselves in a manner that reflects well on swandom in general, which of course most of them do. But then there’s Tranquility.

It was a bad idea to send Tranquility on Spring Break. She fell in with some bad swans. Some really bad swans. Swans that had gone to Spring Break several years ago and never left. Once Tranquility met these kindred souls there was no looking back. Grace did her best to try and convince her to return and take up her life as a Yellowstone swan but her entreaties fell on deaf ears, Tranquility had found her place. Grace left soon after, winging her way back north until she reached the Yellowstone river, assuming her place as a resident swan in a quiet stretch of river as it flows through the Hayden valley.

Tranquility on the other hand is still down at Padre. She works part-time in an Ink shop called the Quill and Skin pushing tats on unsuspecting young swans who will probably never make it back to their places either. She is very different appearing now and her ex-classmates and the nuns who taught her would never recognize her. She has dyed her wings feathers an emerald-green on one side and fire engine red on the other. Her peers have named her Traffic Stopper. Her long neck is shaven down one side to better display the Kanji tattooed there, the symbols supposedly saying her name, Tranquility, but due to a session with a drunken tattoo artist they say Hotel Bicycle instead. This was pointed out to her, but high on several prescription pain killers she simply shook her beak rings in irritation and went on her way. To her they will always say Tranquility.

Grace on the other hand can still be found at that very wide bend in the river, the one near Mt Mary trail, arriving every spring to take up her place and display the beauty and of course the grace of swans. She thinks of Tranquility often, wondering what her life is like now, but hasn’t had any contact with her since that fateful trip graduation year. Tranquility has been invited to the 3 and 5 year reunions held at the swan school but so far has not responded to any of them. The nuns presume her lost.

Calm After The Storm

Posted on April 1, 2015 by Dwight Lutsey

Well we’re back after a whirlwind visit to Washington DC. That is a busy place. There are people there everywhere, standing on corners, sitting in black suburban’s with tinted windows, running through crowds to catch the Metro, carrying attaché cases, talking into cell phones, frowning a lot, people in uniforms with large automatic weapons and the occasional mean looking dog, befuddled tourists with maps and they all look busy. Our mission there was several fold. One, was to help out our friends in government, which didn’t go all that well. We thought we might have had a hand in balancing the budget and planning strategy for finding peace in the middle east but as it turned out that was a mistake on our part. When we approached some of our policy makers they told us that they had people working on that all ready and didn’t need any help. In fact they had so many people on it they thought they might have to lay some folks off. Not wanting to be the cause of some bureaucrat losing their job we said “Put our name on the list and as soon as somebody quits or gets fired, call us.” So far we haven’t heard back yet. We stand ready to do our part at a moments notice however.

The second reason for our visit was to locate and identify some of my children who have taken up residence there in Washington to do good work in the private sector. We found them despite their repeated efforts to move to different houses and assume other identities. Once they knew that resistance was futile they welcomed us with open arms and we had a wonderful visit. Different children from other parts of the country flew in and soon we had a full house. Everyone was in good health and reasonably aware of their surroundings. Nobody fought, we didn’t get sick of each other, and there was even a damp eye or two when the visit was over. Some cynics have remarked that was probably due to relief that it was over more than anything else but that was totally inaccurate. We had extraordinary adventures some of which I can relate and others I can’t but as a visit it couldn’t have been better. Let’s just say that we know where most of the lighthouses on the Potomac river are and let it go at that.

The Third reason we went, uhm, I can’t remember the third reason we went. So, nevermind. Our mission was twofold then.

But like all trips it’s always good to get home. The disappointment of not being able to revise the tax code while there in Washington began to dissipate as I checked The Institute grounds to see how we fared while I was gone, everything was perfect, and after a good night’s sleep in my own bed I’m ready to face the world again, refreshed, happy, and glad to be back where things make sense. The image above is one where things are clean, simple and full of colors designed to calm the most agitated souls. Washington DC was an experience every American should have, it shows that we have the best government in the world even if they don’t want the excellent ideas some people bring to the table. It’s good to be back at the helm of The Institute again and I can’t wait to begin all the important work I said to hell with when I left.

Make the pilgrimage to Washington DC. It’ll open your eyes, make your feet hurt, deplete your wallet, show you what bad traffic can really be like, and cause you to swell with pride from all the good seafood, I mean see how America truly works. You’ll find it’s great to be an American.

BigShots Now

A conversation about Photography: Images and Commentary by Dwight Lutsey

Category Archives: Journeys