AMY KIRK: 'Morning Special' a change of paceUnlike most people, I consider Monday mornings special. It’s a weekday that means something unexpected will happen; a day that frequently fulfills my fondness for surprises.
By: Amy Kirk, The Daily Republic
Unlike most people, I consider Monday mornings special. It’s a weekday that means something unexpected will happen; a day that frequently fulfills my fondness for surprises.
I typically experience “agventures” on Mondays. The prerequisites to an agventure are that it has to be unexpected, pertain to agriculture, and is an adventure. My most memorable ag-ventures have all happened on Mondays.
I recently had a doozy agventure mostly because I was long-overdue. It was the dawning of a bright, crunchy (due to dried up grass) August Monday morning before 7 a.m. I’d offered to check water tanks out on the range because my son and husband wanted to leave early to go to Rapid City pickup shopping for my son.
I decided to get an early start since I had arrangements to be in Custer mid-morning. I loaded up our dog in my jeep and hit the dusty road. Pepper and I were enjoying the change from our standard morning routine (taking care of our replacement heifers’ water) as we jounced happily along listening to the radio. Several miles out on our route the jeep suddenly died and immediately thereafter, panic set in. The first thing I said at the sight of smoke coming out from under my dash was NOT, “Oh look Pepper, there’s smoke coming from the dashboard of my beloved jeep! I wonder what’s going to happen next?!”
I quickly shut it off, fidgeted with hood latches and lifted the hood to assess the problem. I first had to gingerly move some melting wires and being the woman that I am, I determined absolutely nothing. My jeep could not have chosen a drier; more forested area and currently being in the midst of a high fire danger had it decided to catch on fire. All I had to put a fire out with was less than a quart of coffee and a forgotten about down-filled coat stuffed in the back. Luckily the jeep decided it only wanted to die on me.
After confirming that the jeep was not going to ignite, I cranked the steering wheel to turn and back it off the road. I did this repeatedly, since Pepper did not want to cooperate and steer for me. Not knowing how long it would take to get home on foot, I put on the backpack I’d brought along and filled it with stuff I didn’t want left behind and prepared to jog in order to make it home in time to carry out my plans in Custer. I headed in the direction of the next stock tank since I guessed it was along the shortest route home but got a little resistance from Pepper about jogging versus driving. She looked at me as though I was daft for not getting in the jeep to leave but was soon sidetracked sniffing around and marking new territory along the way.
This kind of adventure would cause a normal person to curse Monday but I always look at the positive. As sweat rolled down my temples and soaked my back I noted that not only was I getting three miles of exercise in but more importantly, this “Monday Morning Special” was a nice change from all the others. It didn’t involve dealing with errant cows.
(FYI guys: the jeep’s battery had come loose and touched the firewall causing it to short out).
Amy Kirk and her husband raise their two kids on a fourth-generation cow/calf operation near Pringle. She blogs at ranchwifeslant.areavoices.com.