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Post by hmoosek on Oct 24, 2021 13:06:53 GMT -6
I love watching people hike those long trails. It takes a lot of want to!
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Post by heavyhitterokra on Oct 24, 2021 20:42:26 GMT -6
George, I don't know if you might already know this, but your house is located on the Trans-America Trail. The TAT is a dirt bike trail leading across the United States, from Georgia all the way to Oregon. Every once in a great while, we'll see someone along 510 dirt road, looking for Teresita. That is a beautiful walk along those old dirt roads around your house.
I walked from our house to Teresita on 510 Road once, with my youngest son and my nephew, back when they were 8 or 10 years old. A man in his pickup truck saw us and thought maybe we were broke down somewhere, needing a ride. When I told him we had just walked there from Moodys for enjoyment, he looked at us in disbelief ... He said in a very discerning tone of voice, "Son, do you even know where Moodys is?"
I said, "Yep, I'm pretty familiar with that place, since that's where I live." It was only 7 miles away, but people nowadays have a hard time imagining anyone walking anywhere for enjoyment. That's too bad. They're missing out on a great part of life!
We used to walk from here to the Illinois River to camp overnight, then we'd walk back home the next day. We walked all the way to Round Hollow to camp one time, 10 miles away. When I was a kid, we lived 3 miles from town. Since the school bus would hang around the school for 15 minutes before he ever took off, I'd just jump the line and take off running for home and beat him to 14-Mile Creek Bridge on Highway 51, two miles away. He'd pass me on the bridge while I was crossing the creek below. There was no pedestrian walkway back then, so I'd have to cross the creek on a big sycamore log that my brother and I downed as a crossing. I fell in the creek one day in February and the wind was blowing so hard that I took my clothes off and ran home in my underwear and boots to keep from freezing to death on that last mile home.
Speaking of running, we were fishing under the old Combs Bridge once, back when it was still a wooden plank bridge. We kept hearing someone running across the top of it every few minutes, for several minutes. Then, we got curious and climbed up top to take a look. We never knew that was the starting line for the Pumpkin Holler Hunnerd Miler until that day. That dirt road at Comb's Bridge is 32 miles long in a big loop. They run that road three times, then have a 4 mile straight run on a side road to complete the hundred-mile course. We usually go down there to watch them run in October, but this year we were in Arkansas the weekend of the race and missed it.
There is a lot of beautiful country around here for walking. October is the best month of the year to get out there and enjoy it.
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Post by macmex on Oct 25, 2021 4:12:42 GMT -6
I've been behind on just about everything but yesterday afternoon I did get out into the woods to mark dead trees for firewood. It's easier while the leaves are still on the live ones. Anyway, I took Lista, my English shepherd, and we walked for a couple of hours through the oak forest. I also dug two more batches of sweet potatoes, which is very important with the cold coming. It was a beautiful day!
I wouldn't mind walking a trail like Rodger, but I have only skipped gardening a few years in my life: my college years, before grad school, one year of home ministry when we temporarily returned from the mission field, the year we moved back from Mexico and the year we moved from NJ to Oklahoma. I guess that makes eight years in total.
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Post by heavyhitterokra on Oct 25, 2021 7:06:24 GMT -6
We once attempted the Ouachita National Recreation Trail in Arkansas, back in the Autumn of 2008. That trail is about 232 miles long. We made it 14 miles across land so rough that parts of it had to be traversed on our hands and knees. On the flip side, the downhill slopes were often loose gravel, so steep that our feet slid faster than we could walk, so some of it was fairly easy going. (The entire trail was not that steep, but parts of it certainly were).
We had started our hike on flat ground, in the cool of the morning, right at daybreak. The first part of the trail was easy going, but by 2:00 pm it had become so hot, humid, and muggy, that it seemed like the jungles of Vietnam at times. By then, we were traversing over hills sometimes as steep as 45 degrees.
Hiking parts of that terrain was just as exhausting as any wrestling or football practice I've ever endoured. It was certainly no 'walk in the park.' The heavy exersion and unexpectedly steep terrain we had encountered caused us to drink nearly all of our water by a little past evening of our first day out. Where the map showed streams of water to replinish our drinking supply, there were only dried up sloughs. Where the map showed rest areas, there was hip high brush and tall weeds instead. Nothing about this trip was anything like we thought it would be. (Never trust a brochure).
Like I said, some of these hills were so steep that we had to crawl up them on our hands and knees. About 2/3 of the way up one of those steep hills, my Father-in-Law appeared to be having heart problems and turned as pail as a ghost. (We were about 6 or 7 miles out by this time). Fearing for his life, my Brother-in-Law took his backpack from him and carried it to the top of the next hill, while I stayed behind with him and took a long break to rest up. He was in his mid-sixties at the time. I was in my mid-forties. My Father-in-Law has always been very active for his age. Just to give you a general idea of how active; he once broke his ankle while sky-diving at the age of 75, but terrain like that can get a person in a bind pretty fast, espescially if you have not been exercising vigerously for several weeks prior. Though we had practised for this hike, by walking as much as 10 miles per day, it was not nearly enough preparation for the tough climb to the top of Heart Attack Hill. From that point on, we were looking for a place to make an early camp for the rest of the day, but the land around us was too rugged to pitch a tent.
Finally, we came across a likely spot in a heavily wooded area on one of the rare flat places that we found along the hilly trail. Even though it was only our first day out, we decided to just call it a day and bed down right there rather than trudging on through the heat. It was about 5:00 pm.
Once we had laid our backpacks to oneside, I went about gathering firewood to prepare our evening meal, while my Father-in-Law and his son were busy setting up their bivouacs nearby. I had no more gotten a good armload of wood, than suddenly, I heard shouting and saw them running to and fro through the woods. They were frantically waving their arms above their heads as if trying to escape a swarm of bees! When I caught up to them, I found they had flipped a rock out of the way, to make a place to lay out their sleeping bags and somehow had unearthed a huge, angry, swarming nest of yellow jackets!
Needless to say, we retrieved our gear and moved on from that spot, to one less desirable for it's level terrain, but much more desirable for its lack of angry, stinging insects hovering nearby. By that time, it was getting on toward evening and darkness fell as we were just finishing supper. About the time our meal began to settle, a Northwest wind began to blow and a steady rain began falling on the hills around us. We were glad of it, as we had exhausted our water supply by then and needed fresh water to replinish our supply. At first, we delighted in hearing the rain pattering down on the leafy canopy above us. But it soon became apparent that this was going to be more than just a gentle rain. The wind increased greatly in a very short time. We could hear tree limbs falling as thunder began to roar, soon the gentle, but steady rain began coming down in unrelentless, hammering sheets.
Unbenounced to us, as we had no radio, nor cellphone, and no other contact with civilization since two days pior, the remnants of Hurricane Ike had arrived at our new location and had begun dropping what would amount to 11.26" inches of pounding, torrential rain within the next 72 hours. We tried our best (without much luck), to get some sleep that night. Temperatures dropped down into the 50s that night. Our tents flooded, and our sleeping bags became so heavy from soaking rain and flood waters that they became utterly useless. It never stopped raining before daybreak. So, as soon as the sun began to rise, so did we. We packed our soaking wet gear into our soaking wet backpacks and began our trek onward. Our backpacks now weighed several times more than they did on the trek in, due to water absorbtion. Since we were so far out on the trail that it looked like the nearest Ranger Station was a little closer than our truck, we decided to keep trudging on. We didn't know exactly what laid ahead, but we knew we didn't want to re-walk the rough terrain that laid behind. So we kept going onward.
At times, that morning, it rained so hard that I could barely see my father-in-Law walking a little more than arm's length ahead of me. It had rained all night and now began raining all day. The crystal clear, ankle-deep streams shown on our maps had become mud-churned, chest-deep, roaring, flashflood zones needing to be traversed with our backpacks held high above our heads. What was planned as a week-long, 28-mile family hike ended up being a 14-mile, near-rescue situation. We made our way to the nearest Ranger Station and got a ride back to our truck.
Sometimes, those innocent-looking trails meandering through the leafy woods are not a bowl full of cherries.
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Post by hmoosek on Oct 25, 2021 9:57:53 GMT -6
Man sakes alive! That sounds like a horrific hike! I’ve heard of that trail, but never been on it myself. I used to be sure footed in my younger days, but I have trouble walking around the farm now.
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Post by rdback on Oct 25, 2021 10:29:46 GMT -6
I can't come up with his email. Rick, can you get that for Anthoney (HMK)?
Sure. I believe it is: rodgersheirlooms@yahoo.com
That is what I've used in the past. It is also the e-mail address he has listed in the SSE Yearbook.
The Metze’s willow leaf Lima bean is from his wife Karen's side of the family, as is the Zelma Zesta string bean.
Rodger is a wealth of knowledge. I think I got a sample of Polecat from him several years ago, but can't remember for sure. He might be able to help with some info on it.
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Post by hmoosek on Oct 25, 2021 11:50:26 GMT -6
Are you referring to polecat cowpeas? That’s the pea I’m looking for.
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Post by rdback on Oct 25, 2021 18:34:32 GMT -6
Are you referring to polecat cowpeas? That’s the pea I’m looking for.
Yessir, Polecat cowpeas. I never didn't grow them out.....yet lol. Like I said, I THINK it was Rodger I got the sample from at Heritage Harvest Festival at Monticello several years ago , but I can't be sure.
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Post by hmoosek on Oct 25, 2021 20:31:03 GMT -6
Rick, I’ve been trying to print out an SSE form so I can order those. I’ll probably have to get my sister to help as our printer isn’t working. I’m hoping to grow them next year. This is what the listing said about them.
Polecat peas Donated to SSE by Dorothy Smith (TX SM D) who has grown this variety since about 1965 when she received it from her grandfather, Barney Frankum, of Mt. Calm, TX. Likely grown by Frankum since about the mid 1920's when the seed was given to him by a now unknown person. SSE Accession # 108932 TX SM D
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Post by rdback on Oct 26, 2021 9:54:03 GMT -6
I see some references to Polecat saying it dates back to the 1860's, and is now known of Holstein as well.
Does that look like what you're looking for?
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Post by hmoosek on Oct 26, 2021 15:08:51 GMT -6
To be honest, I don’t know what they look like. I want to grow them because of where they came from. Barney Frankum was from Mt Calm, Texas. I did not know him though. He passed away at the age of 82 in 1973. I started pumping gas in 79, so I never got a chance to meet him. Mt Calm is a real small community, so I imagine someone in my family might have known him, although it’s possible they didn’t. All my Aunts and Uncles that lived in the area are now deceased.
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