Mules Brick, Cracker and I have arrived in Anselmo and the end of farming in this part of central Nebraska.
By “the end of farming”, no, I don’t mean they’re canceling the Husker corn crop this year. Rather, the mules and I are traveling from arable farm country to land too dry to farm. Anselmo sits square on the line that divides farm land from ranch land. We’re going from corn and soybeans to wind, grass, cows and windmills.
It feels like we’re oh so close to entering the America west (which starts, for me at least, in Wyoming).
A Photos of the Day
Tomorrow the mules and I set off for Dunning, 21 miles away from Anselmo. At long last we walk in to the Sand Hills proper.