Reptiles with feelings?

It was one of those incredible moments when you would give almost anything to have a camera, particularly a video camera, with you, but you don't. My family and I were traveling to a friend's house to take down some juniper trees when something in the road caught my eye. I'm one of those inexplainable oddities who actually tries to NOT run over a snake when I see it in the road, and when I realized I was looking at one I swerved to the left. I missed the snake, but looking in my rearview mirror I could see that this one wasn't crawling out of the way. So I backed up in order to chase it off the road before a less hospitable motorist could drive by.

What I found when I reached the place where the snake had been was nothing short of shocking. First off, the snake that had made me stop was already off the road by then. But there on the shoulder where it had crossed were two more of them, intertwined. The larger of the two was on its back, and the other one, perhaps two inches shorter than the four feet of the first one, had the entire length of its body snug up against the other's. My first reaction, as I'm sure would have been the reaction of most people, was to believe they were mating. But a closer look proved this to not be true. First, their "parts" weren't connected, and secondly, the larger snake was dead! It's head had been run over by a previous car.

So here were these two snakes, a dead one, on its back, and a live, slightly smaller one, that had completely "embraced" the first one and was writing and back and forth like crazy. Now, I'm no herpitologist (snake scientist), but as I watched this live snake's activity a number of things came to me. It appeared that he/she, the live snake, was by virtue of lying on and around the dead snake and writhing madly back and forth, trying to bring life back into it, or to coax it to move. Another possibility was that it was actually trying to move it farther out of the roadway, out of danger's path. Either way, the live snake was so engrossed in whatever it was doing that I was able to pet its body, and it gave no sign that it even noticed. It didn't hiss, didn't try to get away, just continued this bizarre "dance of death" that it was occupied in when we arrived.

We ended up staying there watching it for fifteen or twenty minutes, and all the while the snake tried to move its buddy, its mate, its brother/sister--whatever the connection was--off the road, or to bring it back to life by moving with it, perhaps sort of a reptilian artificial rescuscitation. Finally, I picked up the dead snake and moved it to a safer place several feet off the road. I have known too many people who might have seen it on the road edge and gone out of their way to run it over, killing the other one in the process. This brought about the first change in the live snake's activity. Once we put the live one down in the grass as well, it darted away from the dead snake, and I thought it was going to make its escape. However, I picked it back up by the tail and held its head near the dead snake for a couple of seconds. At that point, the snake seemed to recognize its comrade once more, and once more it entwined itself with the body of the dead one and began trying to move it. Now, of course, the snakes were nowhere near the road, and it seemed the obvious conclusion was not that the live snake was trying to move the other one off the road but truly was acting as a rescuscitator.

We left and chopped junipers for over an hour, and when we returned we were shocked to find that the snake was still there, performing his rescuscitative efforts. This time we rushed home with our load of wood and grabbed the camera. However, when we made it back half an hour later things had changed. The live snake was still there, but now he was still. The sun had moved, causing a nearby juniper to throw shade over the snakes and chilling them. Either that fact or perhaps sheer exhaustion had caused the snake to stop trying to "save" his friend. I tried moving them both out into the sunshine again, but it was as if the cold shadows had broken the spell, broken his obsession, so to speak. The live snake slithered away into the low branches of the junipers, and we let him go.

But that snake has left me pondering: What do we as humans really, truly know about the feelings, the "emotions" of the animal world. Many people like to believe that we are the only beings who can think or feel, who do more than just react to circumstances. Perhaps in the case of this snake that is true. Or perhaps there is something more, something deeper, that no mere human being can understand. I don't know. I can't pretend to. All I do know is that on that warm spring day I was witness to something I have never seen in 44 years of life, 44 years as an amateur snake "expert," something I will probably never see again. I will always wonder what the connection between those snakes truly was, and I will always wonder what purpose the living snake had in mind. I guess it's just another mystery for the ages.

Mustang

MUSTANG


I am the mustang,
The primeval wanderer of the American West.
From pure stock were my ancestors born.
Now I am born of the wind.
From the Arabian, the Spanish barb,
The Tennessee walker, the saddlebred,
The Andalusian, the Morgan.
The Spaniard brought my fathers, my mothers,
The American and the Frenchman too.
They were set free, lost or escaped.
Now I run free, of mixed blood,
With my flags flying,
From the supple crest of my neck,
From behind me,
My flags of victory,
My flags of glory.
In the high plains wind they toss,
The wind that carries scent to me of such as you.
You are not my master.
I am your equal.
If you capture me and treat me as such,
I will respect you.
In time I may be your partner.
But I will never be your slave.
I am the mustang,
The primeval wanderer of the American West.
From pure stock were my ancestors born.
Now I am born of the wind.
Born of fire and of the flood,
Of thunder and of rain,
And of the lightning that pounds the earth
As my hooves pound that same earth.
Ancient am I, ancient as the wisest stallion,
Yet new as the brightest colt.
Follow me, learn my ways;
In time, you may gain my wisdom,
And the wisdom of my forbears.
And if you listen, if you watch me long enough,
You too may one day be one with the land.
Without me, without my kind,
You will not survive.
I am the mustang.
I am born of the wind.

© Kirby Jonas, April 17, 2010

Tree of Life

TREE OF LIFE

Deep in the darkest, dampest forest,
You are the tree that waits to shelter me,
The tree that has spread its branches protectively out over the forest floor,
That has prepared a bed of soft needles for me to lay my head down
When I am sad and scared.
You are the tree that stands tall and strong
But ready to sacrifice any part of itself—
A branch, some needles—to light my fire of life, to warm me, inside and out.
You are the tree with the sweetest fruit, the truest grain,
A tree I could make a home with, a tree I could feed on spiritually,
A tree I can admire for its incredible physical beauty
And stroke gently for its softness,
A tree whose limbs would sigh out in delight as it felt my gentle hand.
You are the tree who, when the wind comes sighing through the boughs,
Sings the loveliest music when you put your branches together,
Music that draws the tears from my eyes, music that lures me from afar.
In my forest of life, I’m not certain how I have survived
Before you, not knowing your security, not knowing your song.
The heartwood is the center of the tree,
But that heartwood in you is visible through places,
Not where you are weak, but where you are strong.
It shines with a glowing light, as if the angels
Have already lit a fire inside you, and for centuries it has been waiting
To light my way, to warm me, to call me home.

Workout # 2

Workout # 2, otherwise known as "The Workout from Hell"

All right, guys, this is the trim down workout, the workout you start after you've "bulked up" and want to trim off that excess fat that necessarily comes with adding on any significant muscle. Unfortunately, when you are a day or two into this you're going to realize that lifting those heavy weights, and doing one body part per day, is a cakewalk . . . compared to this.

There are several versions of this trim-down workout that I do, and I will try to get all of those on here. I'm just going to start out with a basic split I do which puts the back and biceps with abs one day, chest, shoulders and triceps the next, and legs separate. The leg workout in particular will be a drastic change to what you've been doing.

I'll list the exercises I do each day, then the specifics.

On back day I do four to five exercises. Generally, they are the following, or exercises that are similar. Pullups or machine pulldowns; Bent rows; dead lifts; pullovers; seated rows.

To that, I add barbell or dumbell curls; hammer curls; and one arm preacher curls for the arms. There are different variations of these, but until you really get into it it will be fine to stick to these basics. Believe me, they will put you through all the pain and suffering you desire.

On chest day, I will do the following, either with barbell or dumbells: flat bench press, incline bench press, decline bench press. Add to this some dumbell flyes or pec deck flyes and possibly cable crossovers. For the shoulders: Don't forget the overhead military press, with barbell or dumbells; side laterals, bent laterals, shrugs, and front raises. For triceps, pushdowns, single dumbell behind the neck raises; kickbacks. Please refer to either YouTube or Google to see photos/descriptions of each exercise. This information is all over out there if you look.

On leg day, I do what is called Hindu squats. These are squats with no weight, and I do from 500 to 1000 of these, which is an incredible leg burn and endurance/strength developer. You can see how to perform this exercise on YouTube. Just type in Hindu squats.

With this workout I will also start doing a lot more cardio. If you want, you can stick to half an hour to 45 minutes at a 4 mph hour fast walk or a 4 mph slow jog. Either way will burn some fat for you. You can also do intervals, if you're feeling frisky.

Now for the important part of these workouts: SPEED. Start out at a minute's rest between sets, and do your sets in the 10 to 15 repetition range. Do four sets of each. So to use your bench press exercise on chest day as an example, pick a weight you can stick to or even raise each set and do: 15 reps, wait a minute, 15 reps, wait a minute, 15 reps-one minute-15 reps. Wait another minute or two at most and go into your next exercise, in this case the incline press. You can change the order up, but I suggest doing your big muscle groups, back and chest, before the arms.

The key to this workout, as I said above, is SPEED. Don't let any grass grow under your feet. If you aren't sweating heartily throughout this workout, if you have time to stand around and gab, and if you don't at times look as if you're going to pass out from the strain, then you're doing it wrong. After a while, if you keep it up, you will probably get people commenting on your workout, and in another while they will start asking you how you've accomplished what you have in the gym. Believe me, they will if you stick to it. DON'T GIVE UP. The new you you find inside will blow you away.

In this segment, cut down drastically on your calories. For me, I'll go down to 2500 calories a day and slowly cut out from there. If I'm really trying to get cut for a photo shoot I might be eating as little as 1000 calories a day at times, which will cut your weights in the gym DRASTICALLY. So get ready to throw ego out the window. You will still be strong, but when you aren't taking in the calories it isn't going to be nearly as impressive.

Try to do this workout every three or four days. In other words, for example, back/biceps/abs on Monday and Thursday, Chest/shoulders/triceps on Tuesday and Friday, Legs on Wednesday and Saturday.

A word to the wise here: Until you know what this workout is going to do to you, don't get drastic. Start slow, as with all workouts. Don't get hurt trying to do something that I have been doing for many years. That will only frustrate you and make you want to quit, and that's the last thing I want you to do. Maybe start out with 2 sets of each of the exercises I listed. Work up from there.

DRINK 10 to 15 eight ounce glasses of water a day. DO NOT SCRIMP ON THE WATER. You will pay for it if you do, especially if you are eating a proper amount of protein. And don't forget to do the protein drink before, during and after your workout. Keep those muscles replenished. Down a handful of raisins and nuts after the workout to replace the glycogen you've been burning out of your muscles.

Workout # 1

Above: Frank Zane, Mr. Olympia three times running, back when Mr. Olympia still meant aesthetically pleasing, before the rhoids really took over.

For those of you who come to this blog only for the entertainment value I have to apologize in advance. Unless you are currently a gym rat (weight lifter, etc.), or you are interested in getting in good, muscular physical condition you probably won't get far into this "blog." This is the first in a series of weight lifting/fitness/nutrition articles I've been promising for a while giving those who haven't been gym frequenters a place to begin and maybe a goal to shoot for.

This first one is going to start you out a little drastically, but never fear. Just work it at your own pace, with whatever weights you can do. HOWEVER, PLEASE don't make the mistake of jumping into this with both feet if you aren't used to working out at the gym. Give it a couple of weeks of basic movements, fairly light weights, to get your body used to it. Otherwise you are going to be so full of lactic acid, so incredibly sore, that you are 1) not going to like me anymore, and 2) probably not going to go back to the gym any time soon. Start in slowly!

First, I'm going to give you five basic laws of the game you MUST follow if you plan to find success in the gym.

1) Don't skip workouts! Stick to the routine.

2) Eat every 2 or 3 hours, mostly whole grains, oats, wheat, brown rice, sweet potatoes, etc.

3) SLEEP! If you aren't getting close to 8 hours a night, you are cheating yourself and your workout

4)DO NOT overtrain. I can't stress this one enough. What you think is going to make you stronger is going to break you down, hurt you, make you vulnerable to getting sick. I'll address overtraining again later.

5)Take a good quality protein drink one or two times a day. You aren't going to get a decent amount of protein without this, or at least not as easily. Nitrotech is the specific brand I use, and at age 44 this is the one I went from 210 to 218 with in one month. And mind you, I am still wearing the same pants size. This was not fat gain.

Those are the basic rules you have to follow. The rest we can tweak as we need to.

Before we get into the weights, let's talk about this first program. I am designing this specifically for those who want to gain some muscle, good quality muscle in a short time frame. Don't worry about getting bulky. It's not going to happen in the month I will have you on this. If you continue to hit this one, okay, you will possibly get bulky IF you have that genetic potential. But in the first month you are just going to build a basic framework on which to model the rest of your future programs. This goes for the ladies, too. Don't be afraid of muscle. It looks good no matter who it's on, and I'm not trying to get you all beefed up. I'm talking about nice, firm muscle, not steroid-pumped Muscle and Fitness magazine fodder.

Now let's talk food. This is going to hurt, for those of you who have been dieting forever (and often not with the results you desire). For every pound of body weight you should be eating 20 calories of QUALITY carbs and protein. I'm not talking about Twinkies and French fries. Let's hear it for the oats, wheat, brown rice, and sweet potatoes mentioned above. Don't be afraid of fat, but DO NOT touch the sugar. Please leave that poison alone. You will thank me for this later, if it's the only thing you get out of this article. White sugar is a poison to the human body, pure and simple. Beyond taste there is nothing good about it. Break yourself of it and you are on your way to being far more fit than most people in the good old USA.

Now, specifically, protein. You can pound the weights all day and eat until you're blue in the face, and you are going to get nowhere at all unless you are consuming quality protein. Chicken, fish, eggs, cottage cheese, venison, and yes, the evil beef. Grass-fed beef is actually good for you. No, I'm not kidding. And to supplement it, Nitro-tech Hardcore. Worth it's weight in gold, and they aren't paying me to say that.

I mentioned not being afraid of fats. Now I'm going to go a step further: EAT THEM. Flax seed oil, virgin olive oil, fish oil, nuts. Eating a handful of walnuts, almonds and peanuts every day is one of the best things you can do for yourself, especially if they're raw. Like peanut butter? Go for it, as long as it's the natural kind that has to be put in the fridge, or better yet, make it yourself with a Vitamix blender.

Before your workout, eat around 40-60 grams of slow burning carbs like oats, etc. This will force water into your muscles, and you need that. Then, and this is important, start consuming that protein shake. Drink half a cup or more before the workout and sip it throughout, then finish your workout with at least a half cup. Also, this is your one chance to ignore what I said about fast burning carbs (you know, that poisonous sugar). Take in 60-75 grams of fast-burning carbs, like chocolate milk, dark chocolate, etc. This will spike your insulin levels and refill what should by then be very depleted muscle glycogen stores.

And now for the workout itself. Remember, I'm recommending this for one month. After that, switch it up with one of the others I hope to have up here. If you don't, you will find your muscles become bored, and you will stop seeing the growth. So get in there, rack some weights (after that initial two week break-in period, that is) and slam some calories. Don't be afraid. Any fat you gain I'm going to help you shed next month.

(If you need guidance on the following exercises, drop me a line, but I'm sure you can find a description of each online, probably along with photos. Important note: Do all reps slowly, especially on the downward stroke, and concentrate on thinking about the muscle you're working. SQUEEZE hard at the top of the movement. The squeeze is more important than the amount of weight. Don't let your ego get you in trouble. You can get an astounding workout with 20 pound dumbbells even if you think you're a pretty big guy. It's all in the squeeze.)

Oh--I almost forgot the best part: REST. I am only going to have you working the major muscles one day per week. A full seven day rest period. No kidding. This is paramount. Follow the routine. Don't add anything in. You won't regret it.

DAY ONE: Chest and abs

Bench press (trade off every other week with dumbell press) 4 sets, 8 to 10 reps

Incline bench press (trade off every other week with db's) 4 sets, 8 to 10 reps

Flat Dumbell flyes 4 sets, 8 to 10 reps

Pec deck (the machine that some call a flye) 4 sets, 10 to 15 reps. The stretch on this is extremely important, far more so than trying to kill yourself with a heavy weight and tear out those all-important shoulders.

Chest is done!!!!

Now for the abs: Hanging leg raises (you will likely have to start out with leg raises on the end of a weight bench) 5 sets of 20 (Note: PLEASE do these very strictly, and at the top of the movement, when it hurts the most, SQUEEZE those abs together. Imagine an accordion. This is imperative if you want to build your abs.

DAY TWO: Back (and ONLY back!)

Lat pulldowns: 4 sets, 10 to 12

Deadlifts (one of the best exercises you can do, even though you hate it!) 4 sets, 8 to 10 reps

Barbell rows (arch that back and squeeze!!!) 4 sets, 8 to 10 reps

Dumbell rows (one arm at a time for a good stretch) 4 sets, 8 to 10 reps

Seated cable rows (you should be able shot by now) 3 sets, 10 to 12 reps. Squeeze it hard at the end. Come on, you can do it. You've come this far.

DAY THREE: ABSOLUTELY NOTHING!!! You can do a thirty minute fast walk or light job, but don't run hard. You will negate a lot of the training you're doing. Don't worry, we'll get that cardio back. It's only a month! Believe me, I'm into cardio too.

DAY FOUR: Shoulders and calves

Barbell military press, 4 sets, 8 to 10 reps (keep your back straight!)

Dumbell laterals supersetted with front raises: 4 sets of 10 to 12 ech exercise

Rear (bent over) dumbell laterals 4 sets, 10 to 12 reps

Dumbell shrugs (or barbell, if you must) 4 sets, 8 to 10 reps (try to imagine squeezing your shoulder blades together behind your ears. FEEL IT in your upper back. Very important. You can also hold this one a couple of seconds at the top and stretch it as far as possible at the bottom.

Shoulders are done. Now for the calves, those little buggers that are so genetically dependent!

Seated calf raises: If you don't have a machine for this, you can pad a barbell, but it will be very helpful to have a partner if you do. 5 sets of 12 to 15 reps, and the squeeze at the top, a squeeze so hard it hurts BAD is paramount.

DAY FIVE: Arms and upper abdominals

Dumbell curls (and you can trade off with barbell if you like) 4 sets of 8 to 10 reps

Hammer curls 4 sets of 8 to 10 reps

Dumbell preacher curls (watch the weight here--a little goes a long way!) 4 sets of 10 to 12 reps

Close grip bench press (let the bar come all the way down until it touches your chest for a great stretch!) 4 sets of 8 to 10 reps

Lying triceps extensions (get that stretch again!) 4 sets of 8 to 10 reps

Bodyweight dips (here's the fun one) 4 sets to failure (I was doing sets of 16-22, but don't go so fanatic that you collapse and knock your teeth out on the dip bar! If you can only do 6, 8, or 10, then great. Everyone starts somewhere.)

Rope crunches (I've started doing these with a twelve-inch cambered bar held over my head. Much more comfortable to the hands: 5 sets of 20 (And squeeze it HARD at the bottom. I'm using 80 pounds on this one.)

DAY 5: Upper legs and Calves

Leg extensions: 4 sets of 12 to 15

Barbell squats: 4 sets of 8 to 10

Leg presses: 4 sets of 8 to 10

Lying leg curls: 4 sets of 10 to 12

Stiff-legged deadlifts (do these slowly so you don't tear out your knees!) 4 sets of 8 to 10 reps

Standing calf raises: 3 sets of 12 to 15 reps

Seated calf raises: 3 sets of 12 to 15 reps

Calves can be worked more often than other muscles, as they get used on a day to day basis, pretty harshly by some of us!

I'm not throwing any forearm routine in here, but you might want to add it in yourself for ten minutes or so later on, especially if you have dumbells or a barbell at home. But you'll be using forearm muscles in much of your other work, so if you don't want to worry about it for this month, don't.

DAY 7: OFF, again!

DAY 8: Start it all over again.

This is a lot of information to digest in a short space, so if you have any questions you can email me at kirby@kirbyjonas.com . I know this is a hard workout, but as the saying goes, I didn't promise it would be easy, I only promised it would be worth it. Remember, unless you want to, this isn't going to get you huge. Look at this as the jumping off point into a whole new world. I guarantee you if you stick with it you will love the changes you see in the mirror.

And here's a teaser for my next workout: VERY LITTLE REST BETWEEN SETS, say 15 to 40 seconds. HIGH REPS. Believe me, this one is going to hurt. BUt to a bodybuilder, it's a good hurt. Some will tell you you don't need the pain to see satisfactory results, but I am here to differ. Some pain and discomfort is a good thing. Just be careful that it's not the wrong kind of pain. If you have pain that lingers for more than four or five days, crank it back a notch. And don't forget to eat and stretch those muscles hard. I stretch hard for my back, chest and legs throughout the day. This is another one of those things that can make or break your progress in the gym. STAY LIMBER!!!! Any body builder worth his salt should be able to lay his palms flat on the floor without bending his/her knees. Just go for it slowly!

A Clash of Cultures

Colonel Patrick E. Connor

Northeastern Shoshone Chief Saguitch and an unnamed wife

Bear River Massacre, January 29, 1863

On this date one hundred and forty-seven years ago two cultures met on the banks of the Bear River, in what was then the tip of Washington Territory and is today the state of Idaho. Mormon pioneers, pushed, often violently, from every place they tried to settle across the east and midwest, settled in northern Utah in the late 1840's and continued to travel to this safe-haven for the next half-century. They brought their farming implements, their horses, sheep, pigs and cattle.

In this western arena, for hundreds of years before, resided the mighty Shoshone people. They were a horse culture, a nomadic people. They traveled where the food was, depending upon the season. When winter came they were entrenched in sheltered valleys across what is now Utah, Idaho, Nevada and Wyoming. Part of their food stores, incredibly, were the grass themselves. Particularly in the Cache Valley of Utah, home of towns such as Logan, the summer grass grew long and rank. In the fall, the Shoshone returned to this valley to harvest the seed, with which they made breads and soups. Their herds of horses also foraged on these grasses throughout the winter.

But when the pioneers arrived here, driven from their own homes and claiming what seemed to be empty lands, ripe for the taking, the Shoshone arrived home to face possible starvation. They soon began to find themselves relying on the generosity of the pioneers, whose stock had trampled or eaten the very grasses that they themselves had to have simply to survive. It was as if someone had walked into your kitchen pantry, or mine, and started eating anything they wanted without asking. Under this threat, the Shoshones, desperate, had to make a stand.

Skirmishes broke out. Men died. As throughout all of history, when a white person died and it was assumed they were killed by Indians, other whites went after the Indians. Seldom did they find the guilty parties, but any Indian was good enough. If they found Shoshones, or even another tribe, they killed them on the spot. The same was true of the Shoshone and other tribes. If a tribe member died, someone had to pay. It didn't matter if the ones who paid were guilty, only that their skin was the same color as the guilty. And so the war between cultures was perpetuated, and hatred boiled.

At the same time, there were "wars and rumors of wars" between the Mormons, the "Saints," and the United States Army. Brigham Young and his followers were tired of being pushed. They had traveled far out of the United States to find the land called Deseret, and here they intended to make their stand.

In the city of Sacramento, capitol of California, Colonel Patrick Edward Connor, one-time Mexican War hero, was sworn in at the outbreak of the Civil War. His mission: to take a well-trained regiment of troopers to Utah Territory, ostensibly to protect the Overland mail from Indian attack, but secretly to watch out over the Mormons and quell any insurrection. Connor's troops wanted to go east to the Civil War arena and fight Confederates. They were bitter about being stuck in the arid lands of Utah, and they were ready to lash out. They found a target at which to lash in the Shoshone Indians.

When a small party of Shoshones killed some miners traveling the Montana Gold Road back toward Utah, a United States marshal was sent to arrest three Indian chiefs, Bear Hunter, Saguitch, and San Pitch, of the northeastern Shoshone tribe. He enlisted the aid of Colonel Connor's men, the Third California Volunteers. And from the very first Connor stated. "I will help. But there will be no prisoners. I don't intend to take any."

In the most bitter part of late January Colonel Connor started his troops out of Fort Douglas, on the bench above Great Salt Lake City, as it was then called. They marched for three days in horrible winter conditions, the wind buffeting them, the cold and snow freezing their feet. Many fell from frostbite before ever reaching the Shoshone camp. It was so cold whisky froze in its flasks. Faces hung with icicles.

In the Shoshone camp, Chief Bear Hunter had a dream that the camp would be attacked. This dream caused the camp to be nearly emptied of the many visitors who had come their for the annual warm dance festivities, which included Chief Pocatello. The others stayed, including Bear Hunter himself, SanPitch, and Saguitch. This was their valley. The soldiers would want to come and talk, and then they would go away. This was how it had always been.

In the pre-dawn darkness of January 29, Major McGarry's cavalry, who had gotten far ahead of Connor's infantry, sat their horses overlooking the sleeping Shoshone camp. It was light enough that Chief Saguitch, who had risen early and was outside his tepee, could see the horses on the ridge above, could see the steam rising from their sweating bodies. The few Shoshone men left in camp gathered and picked up their arms. The cavalry advanced.

Here the account becomes cloudy. Perhaps the Shoshones taunted the troops. Perhaps it was the troops who were the aggressors. Either way, the troops advanced, firing broke out, and in the confusion that followed the majority of the troops who were lost that fateful day died. Connor's infantry arrived, and with the help of the cavalry horses, who made several trips back and forth across the ice-choked river, they reached the battle ground.

But to call it a battle ground begs great forgiveness for the use of the word battle. For quickly this battle descended into the depths of murder, rape and torture and became, on the part of our country's military, the worst butchery ever recorded in United States history. The Shoshone were quickly out of ammunition. They fought with whatever they had when they found they could not surrender. Men, women, children--all were shot either trying to surrender or trying to run. Some were shot trying to swim the icy river. One of those was a baby floating down the river on its cradle board, pushed their by its young mother because it was crying and might give away those who huddled with her under the snowy river bank.

Men and women were scalped on various body parts, the scalps kept for souvenirs. Women were raped or shot or clubbed to death if they would not submit. Others were raped in their death throes. One soldier heated a bayonet red-hot over a fire and shoved it through Chief Bear Hunter's ear into his head. SanPitch fell. The only chief to escape was Saguitch, wounded three times. Two of his sons also escaped. They traveled up the river, soaking wet, frozen, wounded. In demonstration of the incredible fortitude of people back then, many of them who made it out of camp survived. But most who remained in camp were systematically sought out and shot or clubbed to death.

When the massacre was over, Colonel Connor set his troops to burning the tepees and food stores and anything they could not carry away. He did not want any Shoshones who had escaped to be able to come back and find shelter and nourishment. As in all such incidents, there were some dissenters among Connor's troops, some who watched in dismay and didn't take part in the butchery. There were Mormons who came with wagons and carted wounded and dead troopers away. And there were others who came and sought out the Indian women and children, actually adopting some of the orphaned children into their own familes. Many of the Shoshone who escaped the battle ended up joining the Mormon church, in time, devout members of that faith until they died.

The bodies of the Shoshone people were never buried. The Shoshone did not feel safe to do so, and there were too many anyway. The bodies were left to be devoured by crows, ravens, vultures, coyotes and wolves. The landscape was littered with arrows and spent shells, some of which are still being found to this day, along with pieces of bone from those who were never buried but became part of the landscape.

No one alive today had anything to do with the Bear River Massacre, which for over a hundred years was known as the Battle of Bear River, and by which "heroic deed" Colonel Patrick E. Connor became Brigadier General Patrick E. Connor, the mighty Indian fighter. No one alive today is at fault for what happened there, just north of the present-day town of Preston, Idaho. But we are all at fault if we don't study our history, if we don't try to remember, and to keep ourselves from making similar mistakes. For once, let us all try to practice equality. Equality doesn't mean putting Indian people or black people or any other race or belief at the top of the chain any more than it means putting white Christians at the top. It means all of us are equal. Equal.

Please let January 29 always be a day that reminds us that real "equality" does not mean paying one another for things that happened over a hundred years ago. It means treating each other as equals in the here and now. And remember: Any history that we forget is bound to repeat itself. Remember Bear River.

Before the Age of Free Agency

Island Park. When I was a child, the name always called up images of lake villages, rustic inns that could only be reached by boat, and, of course, water everywhere. The reality is much different. Especially today. In December, Island Park is trees and “snow everywhere.”
Our friends the Allens tried to come to our rescue way back in November when we lamented to them how we had gotten ourselves into a position with our kids and Santa Claus that we didn’t know how to get out of. They had the perfect solution: ditch all our Santa Claus adventures at home and go up to their cabin in Island Park, where they would be staying from December 23rd to January 2nd. Instead of trying to figure out what to do this year to bring that Christmas magic home, along with all of the Santa Claus presents, we could make our own Christmas magic in the forests of central Idaho.
At first, the idea seemed exciting, probably because it was so new. Then came the bomb. Our two oldest sons decided they didn’t want to go. It just wasn’t going to be fun. Unfortunately, for them, they are sixteen and fourteen years old, and there are some decisions in their lives that Mom and Dad still insist on making—“for their own good.” This was one of them. In spite of all the grousing and whining about the trip, and even their logical argument that they could feed and water the animals if they stayed home, they didn’t get to stay. As our family grows nearer and nearer that age of no return, when they will of necessity be off into the world, one by one, Debbie and I find it more and more important to continue doing activities together. If we go to a movie, a concert, or anything close to home I can see letting them have their freedom of choice. But with our being gone away from home, and with the chance to experience the outdoors close up and personal, there were no choices but ours. I knew they would have fun. They were the ones who had yet to find out. I have been in close enough contact with my children their entire lives to know what they will and will not like. A bold statement, I guess, but at least in this case it turned out to be true.
We stayed at my mom’s last night, Sunday, which ended up almost being a mistake. It ends up being fairly tough to keep a positive attitude by the time one leaves her house, since in her eyes the world is falling apart so rapidly it can’t possibly last many more years. That may very well be true, but nothing I can do will change it in any big way, so I choose rather to live with it and enjoy life. Bury my head in the sand, if you want to call it that. But this morning when she heard the boys saying they didn’t want to go, Debbie and I became these evil ogres who weren’t giving their children a chance to use their own free agency. We were forcing them against their will to go to Island Park. She offered to drive them the fifty miles back home to Pocatello rather than their having to suffer the next three days being with their family. Grandma is so helpful. After the fairly short but fairly tense argument involving basically telling Grandma that we know our kids better than either she or they themselves do, we piled in the van and headed north.
We stopped for ice cream an hour later in Ashton, by which time everything had already settled down and not a soul in the vehicle seemed unhappy in the slightest about being there. The snow isn’t nearly as deep this year as normal, but it is still beautiful up here, and the beauty grew as we climbed. The rivers sparkled in an incredibly bright December sun, and as we ascended Ashton Hill the boughs of the lodgepole pines and Douglas fir trees bowed beneath the weight of what appeared to be cotton batting infused with a million shattered diamonds.
The forest grew dense, the shadows a deeper purple, especially against the brilliant snow that was catching the sunlight and using it for a blanket. The road was absolutely clear of snow, it was 20 degrees outside, and no day could have been more beautiful. When we topped out onto the plateau, the forests continued to sweep off into the distance, but here and there meadows sparkled with those myriad snow diamonds, and dagger-like icicles hung from the pine limbs, beneath their mothering blankets of snow, and reflected the sun like tiny, warped windows.
At one point the Henry’s Fork of the Snake River crossed under the highway, and here its wide, dark expanse was dotted with trumpeter swans who called to each other across the water. One proud mother pushed a late brood of cygnets we were surprised to see before her, teaching them to swim, as if a young swan doesn’t already know that when it leaves the egg. On the water they floated like white-clad maidens, their long, graceful necks bent like unfinished bridges, their cries speaking of their joy in the day.
Our friends picked us up at a parking area and took our belongings the mile to their cabin. They also took our children. Myself and Debbie, we couldn’t stand the stink of the snowmobiles, and I couldn’t resist the call of the deep forest, now settling into the last couple hours of daylight, with the shadows lying in long blue and purple tendrils across the snow-bound road. So we walked. In spite of the occasional snowmobiles that roared past us, leaving their blue vomit of pollution in their wake, it was a scene of tranquility, with elk, deer, coyote and fox tracks crisscrossing our path now and then. Cold, yes. But in spite of the cold heaven can’t be much more beautiful than this.
Now I’m in our bedroom, and out the window the icicles hang down, some of them ten feet long and touching the ground. The trees, standing straight and perfect in this wind-less paradise, hold tightly to the several inches of snow that are piled on every bough. It’s a scene straight out of a Christmas postcard, lacking only the elk or the deer, or maybe a faraway Santa sleigh careening across the sky. I’m not saying I wish I was out in it, but from inside the cabin it looks pretty near perfect out there to me. Sorry, Grandma. Sometimes you just have to force your kids to do things they don’t yet know they want to do. I wish she had forced her own kids a few more times than she did. Who knows what fun we might have missed out on?
Imagine the forsaken horizons I never discovered because I was allowed, in my laziness and indifference, to exercise my free agency and do my own thing. Admit it. Sometimes kids just don’t know what they want. That’s when Mom and Dad have to take over.

(As a side note, Debbie and I had to go back to Pocatello for the retirement party of three fellow firefighters. Our two boys who hadn’t wanted to go in the first place begged to stay with the Allens, and we agreed to come back for two more days at the end of their stay. The boys stayed, had an incredible time, and are probably hooked for life. And our three dachshunds (wiener dogs, if you prefer) also loved the snow, even when it was a foot over their heads. That one I wouldn’t have bet money on.)