From the Editor

It was a scene straight out of a 1950s western. Tall saguaro cacti stood guarding the vast desert just outside of the booming metropolitan area of Phoenix. Sprinkled few and far between were what I believed to be olive and mesquite trees, and sand, lots and lots of sand.

As the piston moves on its first downward stroke, the intake valve opens to allow a mixture of fuel and air to fill the combustion chamber. Once the valve closes and the piston moves upward, the fuel-air mixture is compressed, causing it to combust.

Who wouldn’t want to spend a few days in Phoenix in the middle of winter – especially with a bunch of like-minded cowboys, crackers, buckaroos and punchers from Winnemucca to Ridge Spring?

It seems that no matter where I go, or whomever I talk to, everyone thinks that his particular corner of the world has the worst or most unique weather in the world. People in my home country of southern Idaho are fond of whining about the wind, especially in the springtime.

You start with some bone-in cuts of beef, and additional beef bones, and roast them at 375ºF for 30 minutes. Transfer all meat, bones and drippings to a slow cooker. Add chunks of carrots, onions, celery and mushrooms.

As the cold reality of winter sets in, and the daylight hours shrink, I think fondly of the bygone days of a few weeks ago – when the colors were just beginning to change, and Mother Nature still shed just enough light and warmth on the Heartland to encourage anything green to squeeze out its last tiny bit of growth.