Hardwired

Texas: Caprock Canyons State Park, Part 2

Prior to planning our trip, I asked friends which state park they preferred: Palo Duro Canyon or Caprock Canyons. The resulting fifty/fifty split didn’t help with decision making, so I decided to put both on my list and make my own determination after seeing them. And as I mentioned in last month’s post, Caprock Canyons State Park was en route from our home to Palo Duro Canyon, so it just made sense to include Caprock in our plans.

As a fan of the stark – some might say barren – landscape of Abiquiu, New Mexico, that’s how I pictured Caprock Canyons and that’s precisely what I wanted to photograph: red, rugged sandstone cliffs, sliced with soft beige striations; chasms splashed with orange and pink; and verdant grasslands cutting across the canyon floors.

Before my visit, I had read that out-of-state travelers and, for that matter, quite a few Texans, myself included, don’t even know about Caprock Canyons. It gets overlooked by visitors focused on its more famous neighbor (Palo Duro Canyon) and the completely unnatural Amarillo attraction of Cadillac Ranch. Presumably, the relatively remote location and under-the-radar status were why we found few visitors during our mid-September visit. The crowds of summer were gone and the beat of the park was low-key and tranquil –  a most welcome surprise.

Learn more: https://jefflynchdev.wordpress.com/2011/01/21/those-spanish-skirts/

 

 

 

 

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Texas: Caprock Canyons State Park, Part 1

Bison on the plains in Caprock Canyons State Park

Normally, we escape the hot and often humid summers of Texas by heading to the mountainous region of Taos, New Mexico. There, the mornings are much cooler, even in the dead of August, and the high afternoon temperatures are cooled by the gathering clouds and soft breezes of the monsoon rains that squelch the warmth By sunset, the mercury has dropped considerably with the sinking sun, and it’s time to grab a sweater. 

Unfortunately, this year, Mother Nature delayed our departure by well over a month. First, we watched with trepidation as the historic Calf Canyon–Hermit Peak Fire burned over 341,000 acres across Northern New Mexico. Such devastating losses for so many! In late August, thanks to an early monsoon season, fire officials announced that the wildfire had been 100% contained. 

But with Texas in a drought (in fact 2022 was the driest year on record in the past 128 years) and with no rain for well over 67 days, we decided to delay our departure once again. The 100-degree temperatures continued and started to nudge forty-seven consecutive days of triple-digit heat. Lawns turned a crispy brown and the trees began to drop their leaves – a sign of stress. 

During August, two wildfires broke out within less than a mile of our Texas home and later in the month, a fire broke out in a warehouse at a chemical filling and packaging plant within miles of us. As a precaution, neighboring homes and two schools were evacuated. But thanks to the sixty firefighters who responded to the four-alarm blaze, it was soon contained without threatening any of the surrounding homes. 

By mid-September we finally felt comfortable about leaving Texas for New Mexico. To break up the long trip – a twelve-hour drive with an hour gained when crossing the border of the two states – we took a friend’s suggestion to stay  overnight at the halfway point and recharge, the halfway point being Amarillo, Texas. Our friend wasn’t suggesting staying in town, but recommended reserving a cabin at Doves Rest, practically a stone’s throw from Palo Duro Canyon State Park. Palo Duro is the second-largest “grand” canyon in the US, and I had always wanted to explore this natural attraction. So after thirty-two years of living in Texas, we decided the time had come to see Palo Duro rather drive past it as we had for years on our way to New Mexico.

As research, I watched a few virtual tours of the area and decided it would be a mistake to bypass Caprock Canyons State Park, especially since it was quite near our destination of Palo Duro. But with only one day to explore Palo Duro, a three-hour roundtrip detour south to Caprock didn’t really fit our plans. It made more sense to leave home early on departure day and see Caprock on the outbound trip before check-in time at our Palo Duro cabin.

Cruising through all the small agricultural towns that dot US-287 slows down the drive, but it’s the most direct route, and you can full-throttle your engine as you leave the outskirts of the rural towns, hitting the open, four-lane, divided highway where the speed limit is 75. Personally, I love winding my way through the ranches and farms of the Texas Panhandle. It plays to my love of the land. 

In Estelline, Texas, we left US-287 and steered onto State Highway 86, a two-lane road in good condition. Although it’s a fairly straight shot, the 75-mph speed limit on the narrower road surprised me. With no vehicles in sight, I puttered along at 60, enjoying the terrain. In the town of Quitaque, “end of the trail,” we turned onto Ranch Road 1065 and headed north. We had some doubts about our directions as we appeared to be in the middle of open rangeland nowhere near a state park. Then we spotted the sign for Caprock Canyons State Park. We pulled into the parking lot at the visitor center and waited until the staff returned from their lunch break. 

Minutes later, park maps in hand, we set out to explore. Caprock is located along the eastern edge of the Llano Estacado in Briscoe County, and at 15,314 acres in size, it’s the third-largest state park in Texas. We rumbled over the cattle guard and kept watch for the local bison herd. In 1996, the park started their herd with 32 bison. Today the number has grown to around 150. Photographing them was one of the reasons I had put Caprock on my “must do” list. 

We were making our way up the hill toward Lake Theo when a small herd of four bison descended the incline and came toward us. As they drew closer, they left the grassy shoulder of the road to use the pavement as their hoof path. We stopped our SUV to give them the right of way, and I waited, camera in hand, to photograph them. Then the unexpected happened. The four grew to ten, twelve, fourteen, as they crested the ridge and surrounded our vehicle, close enough for us to touch them through the open windows. Not that we would. We held our breaths and hoped Bullet wouldn’t bark at them. They slowed to a crawl and then moseyed on by, a herd of twenty making their way down the road. In retrospect, I’m sorry I didn’t think to video them. In the moment, though, I was more concerned about startling them and risking harm to human, canine, or bison

One of my reasons to visit Caprock Canyons was to photograph the bison herd, which wasn’t as successful as I’d hoped. But the other reason was to film the rugged beauty of the rocky terrain, and I think maybe I was more successful there. In my next blog post I’ll share some shots I captured of the red cliffs and let you be the judge.

For a history of how the Caprock bison herd came to be: https://www.wewillnotbetamed.org/the-bison-of-caprock-canyons-state-park/

 

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Texas: The History of the Longhorn, Part 3

In the previous episode, we learned how Longhorn cattle came to be in Texas in the first place. Let’s pick up with the rest of Michael Casey’s article.

During the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, the commercial importance of longhorns (since they were at that time the predominant breed of cattle) was to supply the hide and tallow industries of Europe and, after the Revolutionary War, of New England as well. Before the advent of electricity in the early 20th century, candles were the world’s chief source of night light. Tallow, the main ingredient in candles, soaps and lubricants, was obtained by rendering animal fat. Hides were important to the shoe, boot and leather industries. Therefore, “Hide and Tallow” companies (as beef processing plants were then called) became the major users of cattle carcasses, first in California and later in Texas and other southern states as well. In the absence of refrigeration, meat was largely a byproduct and of little commercial value.

An effort to supply the hide and tallow markets began in Texas shortly after the end of the Civil War. During the war, many longhorns from Texas had been driven into the Southeast (swimming the Mississippi River enroute [sic]) where they supplied the field kitchens of the confederate forces. Those first drives had taught the Texans that Longhorns could be driven long distances successfully and without much, if any, loss of weight. Having learned that lesson well, enterprising southerners began driving their longhorns north to the railheads at Abilene and Dodge City, where they were loaded onto trains and taken to Chicago and points east to supply leather and tallow (and to a far lesser extent, beef) markets of the wealthier northern states. That was the beginning of the glory years of cowboys and long distance cattle drives. By 1895 it has been estimated that over 10,000,000 head had been driven the length of the Chisholm, Goodnight and other trails from Texas and other southern states to the northern markets. These drives, which lasted in total less than thirty years and were often led by very young cowboys and “vaqueros”, became a part of the romantic western lore as the “legendary cattle drives of the old west.” Many of the more docile animals were also used, before being slaughtered, to pull wagon trains westward.

During the memorable cattle drives, those millions of Longhorn bulls, cows, steers, and calves walked north along well worn trails and actually gained weight as they walked, all the while protecting themselves and their calves from predators, swimming rivers, and surviving desert heat and winter snows. The fact that they could not only survive but actually thrive under those conditions is a remarkable testament to the evolutionary advantages these animals had gained.

While the cattle drives of the 1870s and 1880s have become romanticized and legendary, the greater influence of these drives was in the exportation of the “Texas Longhorn system.” This system embodied not only the longhorn animal but also the management technique used in Southern Texas that was characterized by “allowing cattle to care for themselves year-round in stationary pastures on the free range, without supplementary feeding or protection.” While it worked well in the tropical climates of Mexico and south Texas, it was inadequate in the more hostile climates further north. The failure of this system in northern climates, plus the influence of “Cattle Tick Fever” (see below), resulted in the near demise of Spanish long- horned cattle in this country. Northern ranchers, who were enjoying relative success during those hard times by utilizing the British system of close penning and winter supplement feeding, lost faith in the longhorn. While it was probably unfair to blame the longhorns for the bad management practices of their owners, the fact remains that the “Texas Longhorns” were rapidly seen as scrub cattle that should be eliminated rather than propagated. The downhill slide of the breed was exacerbated by one of the strengths of the longhorns – their immune system – which now worked against them. Their immune system enabled longhorns to survive while carrying a tick on their hides which, in turn, carried the disease, Cattle Tick Fever. Cattle Tick Fever was devastating to British and other cattle that were not immune to it. When populations of other breeds began to decline because of this disease, that was the last straw and the result was large scale destruction of the nation’s longhorn population.

In a fascinating article appearing in the February, 1999 edition of the Western Horseman, Dwight G. Bennett, DVM, recounts the role of “Cattle Tick Fever” in the history of the demise of longhorn cattle. He attributes that phenomenon largely to pressures from other cattle ranchers intent on protecting their herds from the “Texas cattle” which were “poisoning their [pasturelands]” and killing their cattle. It turns out that the disease-laden ticks, engorged themselves with the blood of their host longhorn, then dropped from the cow, laid eggs on the ground, and died. The disease is carried on when the ticks complete their life cycle by attaching themselves to passing cattle. That explains why ranchers complained that the longhorns had poisoned their pasturelands.

As noted by Dr. Bennett, Cattle Tick Fever was not just identified locally where longhorns were passing through. Indeed, it was recognized as early as 1868 among cattle breeders as far east as New York State who noticed their purebred British stock dying when Texas Longhorns were shipped into the state by railroad from the stockyards in Abilene and other railheads. As a result of public outcry throughout the country the market for longhorn cattle toppled, and, various states passed laws attempting to prevent the passage of longhorn cattle across their borders. Although the tick was later found to be controllable and Cattle Tick Fever has since been eradicated in the United States, those scientific advances came too late to restore the reputation of what had, by the mid 1870s, become, essentially, outlaw cattle.

My name’s Oreo!

By the 1880s, after consumers had slaughtered millions of longhorns, the demand for higher fat content in both tallow and beef also played some role in the drop in the marketability of longhorns. All things being considered the population of Texas Longhorn cattle went into a steep decline and by 1910 the breed, which only thirty years before had numbered well into the millions, was considered nearly extinct.

In 1927 Congress (at the behest of conservationists and historians) appropriated money to establish a federal herd of purebred Texas Longhorn cattle. Over the next several years, two U.S. Forest Service rangers inspected over 30,000 head of cattle and found only 20 cows, 3 bulls, and 4 calves that were in their opinion purebred Texas Longhorns. These cattle were taken to the Wichita Mountains Wildlife Refuge near Cache, Oklahoma, as seed stock for what has become the “Wildlife Refuge (WR)” herd. Of interest, the WR herd was compiled only from “remote” herds and did not include any influence from six other purebred herds then known to exist (Marks, Phillips, Yates, Butler, Peeler, and Wright). Equally as interesting, no cattle were collected from California, Arizona, or New Mexico where there may well have been purebred herds still in existence.

Most present day Texas Longhorn cattle are descended from those seven families, each of which had its own distinctive attributes. To a Longhorn producer today, it is vitally important to have an understanding of an animal’s pedigree and the degree to which it has been genetically influenced by one or more of those families.

In 1964 the first registry was established to perpetuate breeding records and confirm the purity of blood lines for breeders of Texas Longhorn cattle. Since that time, the numbers of registered Texas Longhorn cattle has soared and by the late 1990s it had exceeded 250,000. Breeders now exist in all 50 states as well as Canada, Mexico, and many other countries.

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