The Belgians

       The Belgians are the pride of the ranch. This string of horses from one mare named Blondie did all the heavy work of farming, logging and entertaining the children. Every morning, way before sunrise, Frankness would come and get us up to go clean the barn of all the animal waste that the Belgians shed along with the cows and calves that were sheltered there overnight. If that was not enough to do, I wanted to work with these big horses called Belgians. I started learning horse care.          

      At first their size scares you. These horses would never ever step on anyone. I got over being afraid of them immediately. You make friends with horses by feeding them. I'd pull a couple of carrots from the garden and hang them in my back pocket. It was a game we played for they knew if they cooperated they would get this chew all to themselves. I then proceeded with the hoof pick. You simply grab the fetlock which are the long hairs on the lower leg. With a gentle tug the big guy will shift his weight and lift his hoof. You must give him time to think it through. You are asking 2 tons of horseflesh to respond to a common command. You then step over the hoof so you straddle the limb and carefully remove the debris from the hoof. This feels good to the horse so you are putting him in a blissful state. I always start with the fore limbs because he can see you, sniff you and maybe get a shot at that carrot in your back pocket. Once the hooves are picked clean the next thing is curry and combing. This is actually a joy for you as well. You really can't hurt the critter by caring for him. He knows the routine so listen closely when he singles you about something.
       The tack room is next after the service call on the hoofs,  the curry and the obligatory sponge bath.  He will drink a few gallons of water.  Let him refresh himself as the morning progresses.  These horses know the tack room by heart.  They absolutely know the familiar way the harnesses are mounted. the bridle is inserted and the guide lines are threaded.  At this moment the driver makes his appearance and inspects the team looking for anomalies.  When he is satisfied he will then decide what the order of work is for the horses that day. 

      Plowing is done early in the morning, timber skidding takes place well after the trees have been felled in the late morning.  The afternoon and evenings are for distributing firewood to the various homesites.  After the work, it is funtime with the kids. They are given a hayride around the camp.  The horses are sweating now and need to be hosed down and bedded.  Returning to the barn is always an exciting moment.  They know food is coming and all that hard work is going to pay off in oats and molasses.
     The eyes of the horse are the most sensitive.   Unless you want to get knocked off your feet, tell him and show him what you want to do first. If you are polite and careful with him, he will be careful with you and work really hard. The best event is the tack room where his collar is hung and his bridle is stored as well as the lineaments and bandages are applied for those small injuries of farm life. 

    Getting him lined up for work involves as much or more labor as any of it. Making sure he is ready and excited to pull for you is a necessity. He might start pawing the ground or snorting real loud in anticipation. These guys really enjoy going to work! You are his motivational speaker. Most of the work for these horses was in logging and firewood hauling. In the spring, plowing was added to the agenda. Seeing one of these behemoths pull a plow is breathtaking. They can accomplish in one hour what a man can in a weeks time. What a source of pride and joy.  Welcome to the family....

Sucia and Matia Island

       Sucia Island was first named by the Spanish. It means dirty or in the vernacular of the time, many reefs. The Spanish thought by giving such names to these islands seafarers would use more caution when approaching the islands. Salt Spring Island in Canada is named that way to discourage other settlers. It didn't work. Matia is a charming little sister island with Patos completely off limits to visitors. Enforcement is difficult. The closest translation is dead for Matia and duck for Patos. The Spanish sailors had sort of a weird sense of humor.
      These remote islands are just offshore of the northern coast of Orcas having all the charm and beauty of the prehistoric natural world. A refuge from predators. The northern waters of Puget Sound gave the ideal location for America's first Marine State Park managed by Moran State Park on Orcas. Sucia has a natural harbor of sandstone bluffs. The hiking trails are numerous as well as the crowds of visitors during the summer months. 

        The day I started, I was greeted by the ranger's assistant. He called all of us pilgrims like John Wayne did in those smarmy westerns.  His plan was to show who the boss man was. Funny how that changed
         Our job was to pick up the garbage left by visitors. We would take nearly three tons of waste off the island during the summer months daily. All this required manpower. To get the manpower the Parks and Recreation of Washington State came up with a brilliant idea  Why not take young people and train them? We could recruit from the poor Indians and troubled youth and pay them very little under the pretense of doing community good.
          It's just a summer job. No one really cares about the worker except the workers themselves. By not paying a fair wage all I got was complaints from the crew.   I was the go between, the go to guy for nearly all complaints. I guess I am a good listener but some of the things they said were very hurtful. You eventually develop a tough, impenetrable skin so it just bounces off. When it came down to situations the crew performed admirably. We were proud of our work and showed it with enthusiasm.
One morning, we found Abalone shells at an encampment was such a time.   The Indian boys picked up on it right away. We soon had the ranger writing big tickets for these divers who thought they'd be long gone before anyone found then out. The Lummis are protectors of the remaining wilderness areas.  They have a very hard life in this modern world of hate and despair.

Recharging the Ogallala Aquifer

     Nearly the entire midwest plain states have a shared aquifer called the Ogallala Aquifer. This geological formation has been the main source of water for midwest farmers since the beginning. It is being heavily depleted.  There is a solution. I learned this from working with John A. at Camp Indralaya on Orcas. It is same problem on a different scale.         

       John had been working at Boeing as a manager. His solution was classic.
Simply dig a hole with the backhoe down to the strata that holds the water table. It's very clear to see because it consists of a gravel layer. Then by diverting groundwater into this hole you link surface water to aquifer water thus recharging the underground aquifer. Nature does its thing by filtering and changing this surface water to potable water.

      At first we were skeptical but willing to try this out.    It worked! We were thus able to pump more water to our impoundment tanks during the winter. These new waters were completely clean and filtered by nature herself.
      My thought is to do the same thing by diverting some of the Mississippi River underground thus recharging the aquifer and raising the water table to its historic level. This all could be done using one site somewhere in a northern state that marks the beginning of the aquifer.  The midwest drought is just another plumbing problem solved by a great engineer, John A. of Orcas Island.

            Organizing the political will to undertake such a project is beyond my capability in these troubled times. This is why I am including this idea in my blogs. My hope is one day someone would see it and actually do this with a smaller tributary or stream that runs across their property. 

     Water rights is a huge problem in our system of justice. When dealing with surface water,  you must be willing to fight with other landholders. It begins with a pipeline right of way, a pumping station and a site to dig a hole straight down to the water table.  

      Stand back and let nature handle the cleaning and filtering. It would then be accepted as a good and beneficial practice that should be upheld by the court. A good place to start is with the farmers who would see the benefit immediately.
      There is so much more to tell about the San Juan Islands. They look enchanted therefore free thinking is allowed since inspiration is easy to find. I met Dhiravamsa at Camp Indralaya during a presentation by him. He personally invited me to attend his retreat on San Juan, the largest island in the archipelago. He too, had set up a meditation retreat using his devotees to build a wonderful geodesic meditation hall. There were many sessions when Dhira taught Vipassana meditation.  This is the most efficient way to train the mind to focus. It creates a profound harmony. It is one of the oldest Buddhist practices of meditation. I soon was dividing my time between Dhira and Indralaya.
         I built a canvas covered kayak that I would take off to Canada in. There was a small group of uninhabited islets just north of Waldron where I landed for a respite. I crossed over the steep ridge and peered over into a seal rookery. With complete abandonment, these critters were constantly squawking about something or other.       

         Suddenly, they all went quiet. All heads were turned seaward as a killer whale made his approach very close to the shore. You could hear the great rush of air as he breathed. This alerted state went on for quite awhile among the rookery. The mothers quickly gathered the pups in a circle far away from the beach until the danger was clearly passed. That day was the best day I had with the natural world for some time.
       Waldron is an interesting community. I called it the last communist stronghold in America but the community was also home to many with no political affiliation, whatsoever. These are harmless farmers growing giant elephant garlic that were braided into long strands eventually making their way to Pike St Market in Seattle. These braids brought in a good price.   This island is home to my sailor friend and his girl. I spent the night at their place on my frequent visits to Waldron.

        I made landfall at Monarch's Head on Saturna Island right around dusk. I spent the night in Canada after a harrowing crossing of Haro Straits instantly recognizing why it was so named. Dodging freighters in the fog is no fun especially when they can't see you is truly harrowing. You can hear the foghorns to judge where they are at any one time. These skippers are in a hurry to get to their next port. If they run you over they probably won't ever realize this until your shattered skull washes up somewhere. The safety of the open ocean is their goal.   Choosing to leave when other mariners are reluctant to ventureinto these foggy waters of Juan de Fuca Straits.. By logical process this makes sense. You are in a bona fide seaway. A area of great trepidation. Tread lightly.