Calypso! Carnival! Regattas! On St. MaartenWritten by Kriss Hammond
Calypso! Carnival! Regattas! On St. Maarten Read Jetsetters Magazine at www.jetsettersmagazine.com To read this entire feature FREE with photos cut and paste this link: http://jetsettersmagazine.com/archive/jetezine/globe02/Carib02/maarten/Carnival/Calypso.htmlThe planes get smaller, Antilles get lesser, Carib beat gets more distinct, further you fly into Caribbean's Windward Islands. I love Caribbean, especially during Carnival, and my new party central discovery is Dutch Sint. Maarten, crossroads of Greater and Lesser Antilles. St. Martin holds 29,000 French souls on 20 square miles of volcanic rock, while 37,000 people share 17 square miles on Dutch side of Sint Maarten. As a demarcation of meridians, ths island counts 82 nationalities as citizens, including Haitian, American, German, African, European, Canadian, Guyana, and all other Carib island people. With this diverse mix, no wonder island's music is a conglomerate of polyglot sounds. Everyone seems to turn out for Carnival, and many turn in late, or not at all. Even though I spent only one week at Carnival out of 17 days of non-stop beat, from April to early May in 2002, I grooved into spirit like music notes on a score sheet. Compared to Mardi Gras in New Orleans, Sint Maarten is a laid back vibe with an ease of moving around, except when gargantuan, two-story towers of speakers, called tractor trailer trucks snake down Front Street. Our jetted-in contingent of revelers gazed with awe at Grand Carnival Parade from balcony of famous Bearden Art Gallery on Front Street. We had a box seat and could reach out and touch visible vibration posing as steel band floats "gliding" down narrow 17th Century avenue like one huge note—LOUD—with every steel drum on island participating. Each float was followed by a choreographed bevy of island beauties, brightly costumed young female Carnival celebrants, with massive feathered headdresses, flags fluttering, shimmering bright mono colors, gilt and sparkle, rotating so spectators could pop a photo. We followed parade (actually entire island that could walk, crawl, or stroll, followed towers of power) to Carnival Village, in reality, a huge empty parking lot behind Back Street, where carnival stage presented first band of evening, and where vendors' food stalls dispensed $1 Carib beers and spiced chicken BBQ to 10,000 carnivalers.
| | Riding For The Brand in Yellowstone Country – Montana BunkhousesWritten by Rob LaGrone
Riding For The Brand in Yellowstone Country – Montana Bunkhouses Dude Ranches, Dude!Read Jetsetters Magazine at www.jetsettersmagazine.com To read this entire feature FREE with photos cut and paste this link: http://jetsettersmagazine.com/archive/jetezine/cabinweb/yellowstone/yellowstone.html The sky is enormous. Everyone you meet is your host. All around are fresh smells of alfalfa, evergreen trees, and a bit of horse manure. Well, that's how I picture Paradise, anyway. Paradise is what you'll find in "Yellowstone Country," agricultural valleys of southwestern Montana (info at www.yellowstone.visitmt.com and www.wintermt.com). With new "agri-tourism" offerings from Montana Bunkhouses, today visitors have opportunity to experience ranching life for a few days (or weeks), arriving as guests and departing as friends. At Carriage House Ranch, we were served a marvelous pot-luck meal in kitchen/dining facility built into huge steel barn. After dinner we were given a quick demonstration of wagon driving by co-owner John Haller. He took a one-horse buggy through a short slalom course of yellow pylons to show us how to maneuver precisely. As these ranch vacations are designed for hands-on enjoyment, I was offered reins next. I didn't knock any cones over, but my wheels got pretty intimate with one of them. Then young Josh Richert, member of a neighboring ranch family, showed us some fancy moves with a rope lariat. Wow! These skills aren't just for show, as I would see later. The community pot-luck reminded me of something: do you know your neighbors? The ranch families I met in Yellowstone River Valley live miles apart, but they know one another. They have to. Ranches here are subject to vagaries of weather, government policy, market, and even predator dangers, and they depend on one another for mutual support. They live a challenging but rewarding existence. The next morning, at Laubach Ranch where I was staying, I helped Ken Laubach adjust small dams that control irrigation in his pastures. He explained system of water rights that originated in 1800s and still exists today: each ranch gets a certain allotment from Yellowstone River according to its acreage. Water is so important to their hay crops and pastures that violations of others' water rights is a serious matter: "In years past, people have been shot for taking more than their share," said Ken. Around here, "A.I." stands for artificial insemination, not artificial intelligence. The rancher's smarts are very real and hard-earned. Ken and his son Marvin had recently disassembled and rebuilt engine on their tractor. Their equipment works as hard as they do and has to last a long time. Next we drove over to a neighboring ranch. "Matt's out hayin' today," said Ken. Matt, owners' son, was operating hay baler. He is an old friend of Ken's son, and he stopped to visit with Ken for a minute: "Is Marvin out stackin'?" You won't hear questions like that in city. Yes, Marvin was driving Laubachs' tractor in their hay field, grasping huge cylindrical bales with a front-end implement and loading them onto a trailer to be stacked until Laubachs fed them to their cattle in winter. The rest of us were headed to Cowboy Church.
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