A welcome respite from a busy world

The beauty of the Flint Hills is calming, reassuring. There are no hairpin curves here, no steep sided mountain passes that turn an automobile driver’s knuckles white. Instead, as the late Matfield Green rancher Wayne Rogler once said, your pulse rate is guaranteed to slow down whenever you are out in the middle of a Flint Hills pasture.

By

Opinion

October 30, 2020 - 1:43 PM

Most motorists can drive from El Dorado to Emporia on the Kansas Turnpike and never realize that they are traversing the last significant stand of tallgrass prairie, not only in North America but in the world.

Of the 170 million acres of tallgrass prairie that once ran from Canada down into Texas, from east-central Kansas back to Indiana, less than 5% remains and almost all of that is in the Flint Hills.

Most people see nothing special about the Flint Hills because there are no sky-scraping mountains, no emerald forests, no towering rock formations, no canyons thousands of feet deep stretching to the horizon to take their breath away. We are so jaded that we need spectacle to make us gasp — or even to take notice.

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