Hubbard Fellowship Post – Eric’s Great Plains Tourism Proposal

This post was written by Eric Chien, one of our Hubbard Fellows.  I hope you’ll read and respond to his ideas about a different kind of tourism in the Great Plains.  (Also, please don’t forget to fill out our blog reader survey HERE.)

I get the sense that most of the country mistakes the push they feel as they travel through the Midwest and Great Plains as a force pushing them through and out of the landscape, instead of what could be a push into it. Engine power has let us cross the prairies in a matter of hours. Most of us are resolved to race through the Great Plains, acknowledging it only as a void to be crossed. The wide open spaces almost seem to demand motion, demand a commitment to keep going. This character of movement the prairie inspires is in large part why I think traditional tourism has never taken a firm hold here. It is why I think a tourism economy fit for the Great Plains is one folded into the fabric of the working landscape. It is why I know that the best way to vacation on the prairie is to come out and work in it.

Katharine (Hubbard Fellow) preparing for some chainsaw work on a late summer morning.

Katharine (Hubbard Fellow) preparing for some chainsaw work on a late summer morning.  Photo by Eric Chien.

We rarely consider prairies as vacation destinations. Mountains, lakes, and beaches; these are said to be restorative natural geographies. They are, but so are prairies. I find they differ not in their effect, but only in their mode. A lake invites me to rest beside its shores or in its waters and refill my own reservoirs. A prairie drives sparks into weary legs, and reminds me that my tank is bigger than I thought. This qualitatively different rejuvenation is what sets prairie “recreation” apart, and I think suggests a shape for prairie tourism.

The heart of the Great Plains economy and the focal point of conservation efforts will always be its working lands. The nature of the prairie itself rejects idleness. The innate restlessness the landscape inspires does not mean we cannot find excitement and restoration. It just means it will not be found sitting idly. I would challenge any family to spend a late Spring weekend lopping young cedar trees out of a prairie lush with new grass and early flowers. Share an afternoon rolling old fence in a herd of cattle alive with the energy of new calves. Drift easily to sleep because of healthful work to the sound of an evening prairie brimming with life. Tell me that would not stick longer in the whole family’s mind than even the best iphone picture from some scenic mountaintop. These are real prairie experiences, playing out all over the landscape beyond I-80.

Katharine

Who wouldn’t want to learn how to drive a tractor and spend their vacation working in the prairie?  Photo by Eric Chien.

Recreation and tourism are powerful tools in connecting people and place. It can also be a powerful tool for supporting the integrity of the landscape and the lives of its permanent human inhabitants. The ecosystems that hold lakeshores, mountains slopes, and ocean fronts reap a significant portion of the conservation benefits that admiration and attraction confer. They also are teetering with the weight of recreation development incompatible with the health and character of the landscapes responsible for their very existence. This is not what we want for our Great Plains Prairies.  In the place of development for recreation alone, a working lands tourism model melts into the fabric of contemporary life on the plains. “Work vacations” on working ranches and farms offer re-engagement and appreciation of the landscape. They also offer the people of the prairie a chance to share the richness of life working close to the land. We walk into a head wind by trying to impose traditional tourism on the prairie landscape. However, there is fertile ground for attracting visitors by appealing to the culture of revitalizing work that prairies inspire. Molded thoughtfully, a growing appreciation of our landscape and the part we play in it enriches the integrity of our ecosystems, and the lives of Great Plains citizens and visitors both.

During a 48-hour late December heat wave I rumbled east towards a long day of work on the tractor, kicking up the gravel of Shoemaker Island Road. Skeins of Canada geese traced the air above the nearby Platte River, the mid-morning sun spotlighting their dusky flanks. The corn stalks and grass shined their dry gold against the uniquely blue Great Plains sky. In that moment, I counted all of the people I wished could share in that day. It was a long list. It included family and friends. It also included a nameless many who I have shared so many anonymous, hurried moments with at the Pilot Gas Station off the highway. I hoped they would end their trips here, at the Platte River Prairies. Forgo another trip to the mountains or lakes back East, and join me on a fence line. Not just because I believe their visit will create an actionable impression, or through their additional hands, a greater management capacity.  I know the exertions that prairies inspire to be energizing, self-restorative, and meaningful. What more can we ask out of time spent?

The author cuts down a tree in a prairie, simultaneously providing a treat for cattle at the same site. Photo by Katharine Hogan.

The author cuts down a tree in a prairie, simultaneously providing a treat for cattle at the same site. Photo by Katharine Hogan.

 

Sandhill Cranes on the Platte River

For those of us living and working on the Central Platte River in Nebraska, the birds that signify spring’s arrival are much bigger than robins.  The annual arrival of sandhill cranes (we usually see the first ones around Valentine’s Day) lets us know that winter is coming to a close.  When the last crane leaves in early April, the first wildflowers in the prairies aren’t far behind.  This spring, the skies along the river are already criss-crossed with formations of flying cranes, intermixed with the ducks and geese of numerous species.  If you’ve never seen this unique phenomenon, you’re missing out on one of the greatest wildlife events in the world.  Come out to the Platte and start your spring right!

Every March, more than half a million sandhill cranes - the entire mid-continent population - converge on the Platte River in central Nebraska. Each bird spends about three weeks feeding and building fat reserves for the rest of their northern migration and the grueling nesting season.

In the evenings, the cranes come to the river itself to roost overnight. They favor broad channels with abundant bare sandbars where large groups of cranes can congregate in large noisy masses of up to 50,000 or more. As the sun starts to go down, wave upon wave of sandhill cranes drop gracefully into the river like so many floating dandelion seeds.

Not surprisingly, this wildlife spectacle draws bird watchers and nature enthusiasts from around the world. Crane watchers can drive rural roads to watch the cranes in the fields and meadows during the day, and stand on riverbank platforms (or reserve space in viewing blinds) to see them come to the river at night. Besides cranes, visitors to the Platte in the spring can also see millions of ducks, geese, and other waterbirds.

The cranes spend the night standing on bare sandbars or in shallow water. Their noisy calls eventually subside enough that they get some sleep, but it's rare that the entire group is quiet for long - and any disturbance (real or imagined) can quickly set the birds to calling and shuffling nervously about again.

In the morning, the cranes leave the river and head to nearby meadows and cornfields to feed. On some mornings, the birds seem reluctant to leave their roost, choosing instead to loaf, feed, and even bathe in the shallow water. Other mornings, a foraging eagle or roving coyote can push an entire roost site into flight simultaneously, and the sound of many thousands of wings creates a deafening noise.

Besides the important task of feeding, cranes spend much of their day - in meadows and along the river - socializing.

Courtship behavior is common during the day, and can include elaborate dances with much leaping and ducking of heads, as well as stick tossing.

As March comes to a close, cranes start heading north to breed - mostly in Canada, but also as far north as Siberia. They usually leave on sunny days with a nice south wind to carry them. Cranes can average 35 miles per hour and travel 200-300 miles per day (up to 500 with a good tailwind). In the fall, they pass through the Platte in small scattered groups (we usually just hear them flying overhead) - providing us with just a quick glimpse of them, but a reminder of what we'll see at the end of the coming long winter.

To learn more about how and where to see sandhill cranes in Nebraska, visit this or other websites.  If you come out, feel free to stop and stretch your legs at the hiking trails through our Platte River Prairies.

To see the best portfolio of sandhill crane photos in the world, visit Michael Forsberg’s website and look for his book “On Ancient Wings“.