Before I dive into craning, I need to mention that Brent and I found this sweet abandoned barn on the way to craning. We were quickly chased out away by a scary man wearing a mask who was living in the dugout shown below.
We finally made our way to Kearney to check out the Sandhill Cranes. I decided that when you go to watch the Sandhill Cranes it should be called “craning”. Brent disagrees with me. I lived in Kearney for 18 y ears and never went “craning” but as we drove down Interstate 80 I saw a ton of cranes just sitting in the cornfields. This makes me believe that I have seen a crane or two in my day I just didn’t know it. They sound like geese and look like big grey birds in the cornfields so I can understand how I never realized they were cranes. On our way to officially go craning we stopped at Fort Kearney per Brent’s request. I have visited this place many times as a child so I didn’t really care about going. The best part was sitting in the fort drinking a beer (from a Kearney Brewery–Thunderhead)…..as a child my favorite part was sitting in the fort eating my sack lunch so not much has changed.
When we made it to Fort Kearney (the state park) we walked down a long path to get to a bridge that crosses the Platte River. At sundown all of the cranes land in the river for the night. There were a lot of people making their way to the bridge it was like we were all escaping the zombie apocalypse or more appropriately making our way down the Oregon Trail. I was expecting some sort of mind blowing experience watching the thousands of cranes come in for the night. It was cool seeing them all come in from different parts of the sky but I can’t say that my mind was blown. The weather was beautiful, the sunset was gorgeous and Brent and I really enjoyed our zombie walk. The experience made me realize how badly I need to get a fancier camera.
Finally, here you can see proof of the cranes:
And proof of the zombies: