A hike among the grasses of the tallgrass prairie is the best way to discover the importance of this landscape.
The question struck me right between the eyes. It was even a little bit like a poke right in my eye. “What does one do in a tallgrass prairie?” At first that question upset me, but after a little reflection, I realized it was a legitimate one and deserved an answer.
The answer seems so obvious to me, and perhaps it does to you too, if you have spent some time among the tall grasses of the prairie and have taken strength from the experience. So when an outsider asks, and with more than a hint of condescension, what one “does” in the prairie, I get defensive. It’s sorta like someone looking at my lovely wife and sniffing, “what do you see in her anyhow?” Or perhaps it’s like me showing off a picture of my one-year-old granddaughter and hearing someone ask, “what is so special about her?” We all tend to get upset when someone heaps scorn on what we consider precious.
After a little more thought, however, I realized this analogy is a little over the top because it’s not a fair comparison. I have never met anyone who failed to see the beauty of my wife and even total strangers have praised the cuteness of my granddaughter. The prairie, on the other hand, is appreciated best when its character is understood fully. And outsiders who have never really looked at the prairie with some of that understanding might fail to see the value of the place. So please allow me the chance to respond to the question by discussing what I do in the tallgrass prairie.
Before I launch into my response, however, I should share some background and point out how I came across this question. I use Google alerts to find news stories, Web pages, and blogs that mention the Flint Hills or the tallgrass prairie. Every day I get e-mail notices filled with links to Web sites that use those terms. Recently, I was directed to a blog entitled, AdMonkey. The author is a copywriter from Southern California who presents printed advertisements in his blog and then critiques the ad copy. The site includes links to his business Web site, which offers his services as a copywriter, and a sign-up link to his marketing newsletter. It seems a great way to drum up some business.
The entry that triggered my Google alert is entitled, “We’re Not in Kansas Anymore,” which takes a full-page printed ad from the Kansas Department of Travel and Tourism and picks apart the text. I’m not here to defend the ad, although I like the ad better than the author of AdMonkey. I know many of the folks who work at the Kansas Department of Travel and Tourism, and I know the ad agency that is behind a lot of the department’s ads. I’m not sure who did this particular ad, but the AdMonkey doesn’t like it.
The ad shows a hiker on a high bluff, overlooking the Cimarron National Grassland in Southwest Kansas and includes a short text extolling the virtues of Kansas. The author of AdMonkey picks apart the ad with some valid criticisms and some not so valid. What I want to comment on, however is the question about the tallgrass prairie. Here’s a quote from AdMonkey’s entry:
The copy goes on to talk about nine scenic byways (my dictionary defines byway as a minor road or path), state parks (all states have state parks), and the country’s largest remaining tallgrass prairie (what does one do in a tallgrass prairie?).
I would remind the folks at AdMonkey that in this case, “byways” refer to a scenic byways program that includes the Flint Hills National Scenic Byway, which is more than a minor road or path, despite his dictionary’s definition. I will admit the reference in the ad to “state parks” is rather lame.
As I’ve said, the question about the tallgrass prairie at first made me defensive. But I got over it. I can understand AdMonkey’s point. If you’re are not at all familiar with the prairie, you might not know what to do when you see one. If the text had said amusement parks, you would know what to do there. The same goes for museums, ballparks, campgrounds, playgrounds, or broom closets. Everyone knows what those places are for. What’s so special about a field of grass, even if it’s grass that stretches over your head?
Since the question is “what do you do,” I will try to answer with a list of my favorite tallgrass prairie verbs. This is what I do in the prairie.
- Hike — I walk in the prairie. It is still the best way to touch the land and see the difference between uphill and downhill, between grasslands and woodlands, and between hill and valley. I walk in the spring when the fire has taken away the old grass and the sun is bringing out the fresh shoots of the new. I walk in the summer, even in the heat of summer, to feel myself sweat and imagine how native Americans and European settlers survived without electricity. I walk in the fall when the grass is over my head and the sunflowers make my eyes hurt with dazzling yellow. I walk in the winter, over snowdrifts, and wonder at the strength of a bison’s neck that she can push aside the snow to find food. When someone tells me to take a hike, I gladly do it.
- Ride — Sometimes walking won’t work, so it is okay to ride. Preferably, ride a horse. There are still places where the fall grass will reach your shoulder even when you sit on the horse. If you ever ride in those conditions, imagine trying to find your herd of cattle when they are lost in the grass. If you can’t ride a horse, ride a bike. Ride a car, even. Recently I drove my car on a minor backroad (a real byway, by the way) and saw new shapes in the Flint Hills.
- Discover — The story of the tallgrass prairie is important. Some folks call the tallgrass prairie the most endangered and altered ecosystem in the world. Sure, it’s exciting to save the rainforest, but there is only two or three percent of the original tallgrass prairie left in North America and most of it is found here in the Flint Hills. So come visit the tallgrass prairie and discover what that story is about and why it is so important to preserve our native grasslands.
- Breathe — I am not sure what the air is like in southern California, but all the tallgrass around here does a pretty good job cleaning up the air. I still love the quote from Flint Hills cowboy author, Jim Hoy, who said, “The Flint Hills aren’t a place to take your breath away, they let you catch it.”
- Weep — A park ranger from the Tallgrass Prairie National Preserve once shared a story about taking a group of Japanese tourists on a tour of the preserve. One of the visitors, who lived in Tokyo where open space is rarer than frogs teeth, stood on a hill in the center of the preserve where he could see only prairie grass to the horizon in every direction. He began to weep. I know the feeling. The prairie can swallow us up and make us feel small and at the same time it allows us to grow and stand tall over the land. Another good verb to use here is emote.
- Gain — As in “gain an appreciation for this unique landscape.” Maybe you will come here and be disappointed by the prairie, although I doubt it. One thing is sure, however, if you never come to the prairie you won’t gain a thing from sitting at home.
- Love — There are many things to love in the prairie. Above all else, I love God, and I rejoice in what He put here. I love the way the sun warms my face and the wind cools my head. I love how every time I hike the same trail the prairie somehow looks different. I love snakes and the hawks that eat them. I love knowing the difference between limestone and flint. I love running my fingers through the soft tops of switchgrass and then running my fingers along the razor-sharp edges of cordgrass, even if it makes me bleed.
- Burn — Out West, fire is a threat, especially in southern California. In the Flint Hills we have tornadoes and floods, so we understand natural disasters. Fire, however, is a good thing. In the spring we burn pastures because it’s important for the health of the prairie. Fire is one of the three necessities for the tallgrass prairie; grazing and a relatively humid climate are the other two. Prairie fires inspire artists and attract the bison. Fire keeps away the trees. Like they say at the Konza, “only you can prevent forests.”
- Paint or shoot — I don’t paint, but I take pictures. It’s said you can’t swing a dead cat in the Flint Hills without hitting an artist. I would add landscape photographers to those creative folks who are endangered by flying felines. I’m no pro when it comes to photography, but I admire those who are. Visit a few of the Web sites listed under “Flint Hills Images” and discover the great tradition of artists and photographers capturing the imagery of the tallgrass prairie in the Flint Hills.
- Touch — Here is a list of things you can touch in the tallgrass prairie: grasshopper spit, bison hair, burnt grass, milkweed juice, hedge apples, lovegrass, snake skin, turkey feathers, coyote skat, garter snake musk, smooth sumac stems, dogwood leaves, and dirt. Just to name a few.
Here are a few more verbs I like: see, sweat, drink, educate, inspire, study, camp, grow, cultivate, and motivate. Read is a good verb, especially when there are so many books and Web sites about the tallgrass prairie. I just finished reading John Price’s book, Not Just Any Land, which describes his journey, literary and physical, through some of America’s grasslands. I think John Price would say that in the tallgrass prairie you can discover yourself, explore your past, and better appreciate your future.
So here is my last verb: visit. I am not sure what you will discover when you get out into the prairie, but you need to do something in the tallgrass prairie to find out.
No one can deny the charm of my granddaughter!
You completely missed the point. The question “what does one do in a tall grass prairie?” doesn’t assume there’s nothing to do, and it’s not scornful. It’s directed at the people who wrote the ad, who use phrases like “scenic byways” and “tallgrass prairie” without explaining what’s special about them to the reader.
Every resident of Kansas probably knows all about tallgrass prairies, but this ad is presumably targeted to people who don’t live in Kansas and don’t know what a tallgrass prairies is. If the state of Kansas is going to spend (taxpayer) money to create an ad for the purpose of encouraging tourism, it’s not a good idea to use expressions that have little meaning to the target audience without explaining them.
Hence the question: “What does one do in a tall grass prairie?” You’ve answered the question in your blog post. The state hasn’t answered it in their ad.
Happy Thanksgiving! What a great post. The Flint Hills are awesome, and admonkey should stop monkeying around.
You explain beautifully what we “do” in nature everywhere, and why we love it so much and need to preserve it.
My husband and I went to southern Utah earlier this month, and we “did” many of the activities you mentioned. I took 600 photographs, and I could have taken another 600 hundred. I’m planning a photography expedition to the Flint Hills this spring, too.
Your granddaughter is adorable!
You are absolutely right, Marc Librescu, I did initially miss the point of your question. That’s why I say in my first paragraph that after some reflection I realized it was a legitimate question that deserved an answer. I said your point was valid, if one doesn’t know the prairie, then he or she won’t know what to do. I also said I got over my initial frustration and tried to answer the question as best I could. I apologize if my frustration still shows. I have lived in places as diverse as Kansas and Europe. I am conversant in foreign languages and philosophic dissertations. So please excuse my (over)sensitivity to folks on the coast looking a bit askance at Kansas like we are all dumb hicks. We get a lot of that around here. I don’t mean to imply that you do, I’m sure you don’t, but my initial reaction is defensiveness. I apologize for that.
I will make one point about the tallgrass prairie’s popularity, however.
With the success of books like PrairyErth, Last Child in the Woods, and Not Any Land, there are a growing number of people outside of Kansas that know about tallgrass prairies. The PBS special on the Flint Hills entitled “Last Stand of the Tallgrass Prairie” also got the word out. The April 2007 issue of National Geographic also ignited interest in the prairies of Kansas. States like Iowa, Illinois, Missouri, and Minnesota are spending a lot of money to restore large tracks of their tallgrass prairie. I have a job in tourism (but that’s not why I write about the Flint Hills, my love for them came long before my job) and I have contact more and more with folks from other states who want to learn about our tallgrass. Recently I helped a lady from California (around San Francisco if I remember right) who was planning a trip with a friend of hers from Boston. They decided to meet in the middle and see the Flint Hills. So I helped them find places to do wildflower walks.
So yes, there are many people outside of Dorothy’s home state that are learning about the tallgrass prairie. I hope you get the chance to come experience it for yourself.
Thanks for reading.
Catherine,
The Utah trip sounds like fun. I haven’t seen Utah since I was a very young child. There’s a family story that my great-grandfather, newly arrived from Sweden, was a stone mason and he went by covered wagon to Salt Lake to help them build the big Mormon tabernacle there. Our family wasn’t and isn’t Mormon, so I always wondered about that story, but all who could confirm it are now long gone.
Let me know when you make it our way.
I understand the tendency to be sensitive. On my end, I was afraid that I would sound like I was saying something negative about the state, rather than the ad. Since I try to keep my blog posts short, I have to make a point and assume that the reader is following me. In this case, that didn’t happen as well as I would have hoped.
Perhaps you can express your concerns to the Kansas tourism people and let them know that they need to be more descriptive in their advertising. My point in the post was that the ad won’t be effective in getting tourists to visit Kansas. Although I stand by that view, I have no way to personally measure the effectiveness of the ad. I just call them the way I see them.
I hope that one day I can experience the tallgrass prairie for myself.
Dennis, Thanks for the very fine and well written article, “What do you do in the tallgrass prairie?” I do a monthly radio broadcast out of Eureka, Ks. on Greenwood Co. history and the Flinthills. It can be heard on the first Thursday of each month at 9:00 AM on KOTEfm.com I would like to use your article, What do you do in the tallgrass prairie; on our broadcast next Thrusday. I would plan to share it with our listeners; word for word and hope that we could get some discussion from some listners. By the way, a couple of enjoyable books that you might want to read about growing up in the Flint Hills, are Spatzies and Brass BBs, Life in a one-room country school and Ducks Across the Moon, Life on eighty acres in the Flint Hills. Both books are written by Dr. Ken Ohm late of Washburn University.
Your best post yet, Dennis! Thank you so much. Very good discussion in the Comments, as well. Nice to hear from Phil – I had a great discussion with Phil in Eureka last year as part of our Oral History project. There are so many facets to the Kansas Flint Hills, through out the region. Keep up all the good work.
I found your site through the Nature Blog Network, and I am thrilled. I have never been to the Flint Hills or the tall grass prairie, but years ago I read William Least Heat-Moon’s PrairyErth. Since then, I have always wanted to go, but as yet have not. Thanks for creating a way for others to explore such a unique area.
James,
Thanks and welcome to the Flint Hills (virtually). I hope you find many reasons to come.
What do you do in the Flint Hills? Well, today I practiced my profession. I am a Professional Land Surveyor that never passes up an opportunity to be in the Hills. We were retracing the First Guide Meridian East that was surveyed by Joseph Ledlie in 1855. This important line passes through the Flint Hills from North to South on true line of longitude, beginning at the Nebraska Border (40th Parallel) and ending at the Oklahoma Border (37th Parallel). The First Guide Meridian East was the first Public Land Survey line surveyed inside of Kansas. Some of your readers are aware of the “long sections” in the Flint Hills that’s six miles to the west of this line. The Tallgrass Prairie National Park sets on these long sections. These long sections were created by the divergence of the meridians between the First Guide Meridian East and the 6th Principal Meridian. Yes, I sometimes get to work in the Flint Hills, looking for stones (as opposed to rocks). That’s what I do in the Flint Hills!
Thanks, Steve, for sharing about your work. What a great job! I’m jealous. I took a surveying class at K-State when I was getting my Landscape Architecture degree. That was in the late 70′s however, so I’m sure the techniques we learned are ancient history now. I remember measuring the lawn in front of Anderson Hall with the old surveyor’s chains. I think we measured everything in rods. The teacher once demonstrated a brand-fangled new device that had just come out, a laser surveyor.
Where can I find information about Ledlie’s survey and maps? So this meridian would be about six miles east of the tallgrass prairie national preserve, right? That would put the meridian somewhere between Manhattan and Wamego, or am I way off?
The Guide Meridian is between Ranges 8 & 9 East. The long sections are along the west side of Range 8. The Guide Meridian passes through Marshall Co. (near Frankfort), on into Pottawatomie Co. (west of Wamego), south into Wabaunsee (Alta Vista), Morris Co. (Council Grove), Chase Co. (east of CWF/SC), Greenwood
Co. (at Reece), Elk Co. (at Grenola) and points south to the OK border.
The improvements in our tools (laser, GPS) has not changed our obligations to history & legal proceedures in locating boundary lines. These tools have extended my career however! Less physical work and more fun!
Most interesting! Beautifully written!
I’m thinking that I need to pay a (brief) visit to my Kansas relatives in Wichita and Elk County, then hie myself to the tallgrass for another look-see.