Coulee Cat Hiking

On this particular day, a nice October day, we were on Lower Spring Creek road, east of SD HWY 79 outside Rapid City, doing what we do -- going for a slow mosey on gravel. 

Lower Spring Creek Road merged with Spring Creek Road -- Pennington County Road 220 and then Custer County Road 121.  We drove to Folsom, a road-side spot with a couple ranch houses and an old church which looked like a good spot for a snack and a short  pre-cat-hike stretch.  

A post office called Folsom was established in 1886, and remained in operation until 1948. The community was named after Frances Folsom Cleveland, First Lady of the United States.

The church yard, which to the casual observer might have seemed like a bunch of dead grass and weeds, held an array of interesting sniffing opportunities, including some areas that could have harbored a mouse.  

Folsom Hits National News-- As it turns out, Folsom, South Dakota, burst onto the national stage in 1900, (not sure if that was the first time) when a woman named Mrs. H.D. Hyde purportedly wrote to the Tri-County Chronicle in what is now Cass City, (formerly Cass) Michigan,  on December 21st, with the enthusiastic report that Dr. Dodd's Kidney Pills had not only saved her life, but the life of her daughter as well.   

According to Mrs. Hyde, "I had been troubled for over three years with a severe pain in my heart, which entirely disappeared after I had taken a few doses of Dodd's Kidney Pills. I also gave them to my little girl, whose kidneys had been weak, and she commenced to improve from the very first dose." 

It's a little unclear to us why Mrs. H.D. Hyde from Folsom, South Dakota, picked the Tri-County Chronicle to publish her medical report, but of course, it was a simpler era -- perhaps she hailed from Cass. Dr. Dodd's pills were apparently widely available at 50 cents a box, which seems very reasonable for such a wide-spectrum cure-all.  

For more information on Mrs. Hyde's miracle cure and other news of the day in December 1900 in Cass City, see  http://newspapers.rawson.lib.mi.us/chronicle. On a less happy note,  not too long after Mrs. Hyde's miraculous cure, Folsom gave a son, Joseph Wm. Keifert, in World War I. 

Snake Surveys Up Front -- When we first arrived at the Folsom church, as we always do, we did a quick "snake survey" of the area to make sure the cat hiker didn't encounter a slithery foe.  We watched her cruise a small area near the front of the church, then suddenly make a mighty leap.  We thought that perhaps she'd found a danger we'd missed, so we hurried over to look.  It turned out she'd found a patch of prickly pear, and had bounded clear of it before being impaled on its rather long and nasty thorns.

After the Mighty Leap, the cat hiker got all intense about something else nearby.  Since she typically doesn't get too involved with local fauna (being 17 years old and as slow as a banana) again we decided to investigate. As we got closer, we found the object of her intent prowl -- a one-legged grasshopper that had managed to flick itself around enough to capture her attention.  Since it had already fallen on hard times, (very hard times by grasshopper standards) we steered her away, even though her interest in grasshoppers is typically nil.  But we figured that the grasshopper didn't need upsetting -- even though it subsequently made a decent showing with a long one-legged-propulsion leap. 

As we looked at the grasshopper closer, we thought the detail of its armor (skin) was interesting enough to merit a photo.  Funny what you can find interesting when you are at cat-hiking height.  We're going to guess it's the only photo that particular one-legged grasshopper indulged, thereby offering us a unique photo op, of which we are so fond.  

After Folsom, we entered the Buffalo Gap National Grasslands, on one of those stretches where some people would say, "There's nothing out there," but of course, there actually is. We crossed the county line and the road became Pennington county road 486, Creston Road.  The road turned north onto a plateau called Phinney Flat,  and we had a nice view down into Spring Creek. 

It also looked like a good spot for a cat hike. The cat hiker left her on-board cat house,  and patrolled the roadside while Louise forged ahead on snake patrol down a small coulee that promised good cat-hiking and potential mouse habitat. Once the snake patrol deemed the cat hike route clean and interesting enough, the cat hiker set forth in full-sniff mode, finding abundant evidence of small furry fauna that had gone before. The Coulee Cat Hike was unfolding apace when the cat hiker and her entourage heard what started as a low moan far off in the distance, and as it grew closer, became a roar.  This caused no small amount of consternation for the cat hiker, and she quickly went to Someone Big in the form of Louise to be hoisted to a safety zone and presumably, out of harm's way. The cat hiker was plucked from the grass just before the roar made its entrance on the road at the head of the coulee.  I turned just in time to capture the huge hay-truck-monster that interrupted the Coulee Cat Hike coming around the bend.  It was formidable, even by human standards, and on a mission.  

As the cat hiker returned to the rig, a shadow crossed overhead, reminding everyone that it's good to have Someone Big around when cat hiking, because the cat hiker often focuses on mouse habitat at grass level to the exclusion of potential danger from above - much like the mice themselves, one would assume. As we discovered later in the day, focusing too closely on mice in the grass can have dire consequences if you don't have Someone Big looking up for you -- as evidenced by an unfortunate snake-on-a-post-in-the-grasp.  I don't normally think of snakes as primary hawk food, but when you are that low to the ground and busy smelling mice with your tongue, it's understandable how you might overlook a hawk at 500 feet overhead.  Overlook it at your peril, of course.  

Home From Coulee Cat Hiking -- One important point to keep in mind (often overlooked by human hikers) is the critical nature of the post-hike relaxation period.  Cats seldom, if ever, overlook this key aspect of cat hiking, Coulee or otherwise.  As they reflect on the dangers avoided, and dream of the juicy mice they nearly uncovered, we've found you can often detect the slightest hint of a smile.  

Brian. Text and photos copyright GoinMobyle, LLC 2009