Joann Merritt's Essays

Two Weeks On The Nature Trail
November, 1987

Pardner, this here is the true story of how it all came to happen.

Burr Williams calls and says he needs help out on the trail. We get our packs together and mosey on over to headquarters. Early in the morning a driver delivers the herd in a big orange wagon. Sixty yearlings are unloaded and quick as any cutting horse Burr has them in four separate corrals. Here, he says to us Greenhorns, take these fifteen critters to the north side of the pasture. Teach them about the land, the grasses and the water. Next Burr says to teach them about the Bobwhite and Scaled Quail. Have them say “Howdy” to the Bush Muhley, Catclaw Acacia and Christmas Cholla and find out how these plants help the quail. He says we have 35 minutes to do all this and then start again with another bunch until the entire thundering herd has vanished down Windmill Trail. We don’t get to choose their brand, but we hanker to mark most of them with an “A” or “B”. The foremen on the big orange wagon decide this.

Meanwhile back at the ranch Burr and Lorene have the critters nose-down among the cactus plants. We hear a lot of Yahoos!, but these chores have to be done. They use a random sampling technique to figger out how many Christmas Chollas are in the whole dang Outdoor Learning Center.

Git along Little Dogies, says Lorene. They stampede to the prairie where the coyotes yip, bark and howl as they chase quail looking for a good meal. (Maybe a Bobwhite’s Better Burger or a Big McQuail?) Top hand Lorene helps with a learning game on predator/prey balance in nature.

We’re heading for the last roundup. In the darkened arena the herd settles down to view a moo-vie about things to see at the Outdoor Learning Center. This done, they’re ready to be put out to pasture. Head ’em, up! Move ‘em out!

We brave cold, mist, wind and heat, plus a maverick reporter who wrote a wonderful story about Sibley Learning Center but has damaged his eyesight by not wearing a proper cowboy hat and squinting into the sun too long. He says to me, “So you’re Don’s Mother!” Shucks, I can take that. I have survived two weeks on the Nature Trail.