October 15th 2011, was bike adventure day. We  finally had our little collapsible Schwinns, retrofitted with hefty tubes , slime and a tire lining. All these things are required to combat the goat heads that have plagued us with flat tires on previous adventures. The new tire protection worked as expected , but the  sandy dirt roads, hills, 20 knot winds, combined with the thin small wheels on the cruiser bikes, made for a good workout. We covered 16 miles in about 2 1/2 hours of riding.  The bikes are an excuse is to cover ground and stop when see something interesting which is often.

More Calf sorting

The whole way we were commenting on how we had not seen any rattle snakes this year, the best we could do was a small bull snake, and then I saw it. On the side of the dirt road. You can’t see it in the picture but this snake had been run over. There was clearly a red gash a  few inches long on one side. The snake was not moving. It was lethargically flicking its tongue a bit. Without any sticks of any kind near by,  I rolled my bike over to it while standing behind the back  holding the seat, extending the front  tire as fodder.  Thinking what a dumb idea this is, at best the snake might puncture my front tire, and at worst it might chase Sandy down and attack her . As my front tire approached just an inch from the snake, he coiled, rattled , hissed and did a bluff strike at the bike.  I am thinking “cool”, while Sandy wanted nothing to do with it, just like the encounter with the reef shark, she was heading the other way. Normally I would not kill a snake, but with a 3 inch open gash  on one side, I figured we should kill this snake as it did not have long to live. As per my mantra of not eating anything I was not willing to kill, I was eager to fry it up and try it.

The farmers kill rattlers on sight. Short on time ,they usually ,  deliberately try to skid their tires on them. Rattle snakes don’t die easily unless you get them directly on the head. We did see  skid marks nearby as evidence to support my theory. I made a mental note to come back and kill the snake , skin it, and eat it later. It was gone when we returned later.

Just to give you an idea on how rural this area is, we were on the roads, stopped and riding for a combined 3 1/2 hours. During that time, we were passed by one combine, two trucks hauling corn,   and one other pickup pulling some cows in a trailer. That is it. On one stretch for an hour and half we did not see anybody.

The picture below is of Sandy making her way up Sappa Creek. You can see the bridge in the back ground where we ate lunch while dangling our feet over the side.

Calf Sorting the Rollins Place

Rattle Snake

Along our ride we ran into one of our neighbors who was out separating calves. They invited us down to watch/help. This operation works something like this. You run the calves into a small pen, and then Daniel Neighbors son, jumps in there with them and separates the calves  from the steers and heifers. The idea being to load the heifers onto a trailer and move them to a different pasture. Herding them all into a 40 by 40 foot pen is one thing. Getting them separated and the heifers into the trailer is another. The calves and steers don’t like to go easily. Daniel and Sylvester, Daniels Father,  jump in with a stick and wack them on the nose, sending the Heifers one way and the calves the other.

Meanwhile, outside the pen,  Francis their 85 year grandfather, and I, work the gate to let the odd ones out at just the right time.  At one point, one of the Heifers gets out of the pen, and I somehow manage to hold it off in a section of field adjacent to the Pen by waving my arms and acting stupid. Without my heroic bravery it might have escaped into the adjacent 300 acre Pasture.  In the process of seperating the calves out, the larger Heifers and Steers will  kick at you sense you behind them. They will also rub  shit on you as they pass. I was pretty useless.  Not because I was a afraid , I  just  did not know when to say Haw , or Hee , wack them  on the ass, or get out of the way.  The four generations out there,  have been doing this all their lives.  The spectacle plays out as an unspoken, disjointed dance  of body language, with some yelling thrown in.  For example when Daniel forgot to close a hatch on one end of the shoot,  all the calves  ran up into the trailer, not where we wanted them,  the intent was to keep them out of the trailer, and load the Heifers.

Ditch Weed Wild Mary Jane

If a snake, a cattle round up weren’t enough adventure. We also came across rows of ditch weed, alias wild hemp.  If you look along the smaller roads you can find it everywhere.

Sappa Creek