As we enter the time of year when respiratory viruses are more prevalent, we would like to share a few observations. We represent hundreds of years of clinical experience taking care of patients here in Hays and in the region.

We can remember when the seasonal flu shot was less available than it is today. Twenty-five years ago, there was an observable decrease in hospitalizations and the need for respiratory tests and treatments when free community flu shots became available.

We have built our careers in this community, raised our families here, and collectively cared for thousands of patients across generations. We care deeply for our community. We encourage anyone with questions about vaccinations for themselves or for their children to reach out to their trusted health care providers with those questions. Their training and experience is a valuable resource. Even more than that, though, they know you, they know your family, and they care about our community.

Bob Albers, MD&nbsp; Internal Medicine

Robert Cox, MD&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Pediatrics&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Jeff Curtis, MD Cardiology

Ron Holweger, MD Ophthalmology&nbsp;

Kevin McDonald, MD Urology&nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp; Tom McDonald, MD Ophthalmology Rick Rajewski, MD&nbsp; Family Medicine Dallas Richards, MD&nbsp; Internal Medicine

Steven Waring, MD Family Medicine

As we enter the time of year when respiratory viruses are more prevalent, we would like to share a few observations. We represent hundreds of years of clinical experience taking care of patients here in Hays and in the region.We can remember when the seasonal flu shot was less available than it is today. Twenty-five years ago, there was an observable decrease in hospitalizations and the need for respiratory tests and treatments when free community flu shots became available.We have built our careers in this community, raised our families here, and collectively cared for thousands of patients across generations. We care deeply for our community. We encourage anyone with questions about vaccinations for themselves or for their children to reach out to their trusted health care providers with those questions. Their training and experience is a valuable resource. Even more than that, though, they know you, they know your family, and they care about our community.Bob Albers, MD&nbsp; Internal MedicineRobert Cox, MD&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Pediatrics&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Jeff Curtis, MD CardiologyRon Holweger, MD Ophthalmology&nbsp;Kevin McDonald, MD Urology&nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp; Tom McDonald, MD Ophthalmology Rick Rajewski, MD&nbsp; Family Medicine Dallas Richards, MD&nbsp; Internal MedicineSteven Waring, MD Family Medicine

LETTER: Hays doctors encourage reaching out with questions about vaccinations

Cruising the Blue Highways of Kansas leads explorers to surprising finds.

 Recently, the hubs and I drove Highway 36 west in search of Junction 173, which led us to Herndon. We’d passed this exit but never turned to explore on numerous visits to a daughter who lives even closer to Colorado. During his game warden days, my spouse’d driven through, but I’d never popped a peeper on this northernmost realm of Kansas.

Like every pioneer town in this region, settlers from Europe founded Herndon in the late 1800s - 1879 - to be exact. Austro-Hungarian newcomers originally called it Pesth, after Pest, Hungary, which history/geography-minded folk know merged and became Budapest.

According to Kathy Alexander who writes Legends of Kansas, within years a new store owner with fewer ties to Hungary became the second postmaster and hoped to rename the town Lincoln to honor the assassinated U.S. president.

That name was taken, so he opted for the moniker Herndon after Abraham Lincoln’s law partner William Herndon. This choice creates excellent Kansas Trivia as in "Which Kansas town was named after Abe Lincoln’s law partner?"

Once the Chicago, Burlington, and Quincy Railroad came through in 1887, earnest development began. Herndon evolved into a local trade center surrounded by successful agriculture in the Beaver Creek drainage.

 Many of those agriculturalists practiced Catholicism, a frontier faith in northwest Kansas, which led area priests to establish regional missions. Atwood’s Reverend J.B. Glynn oversaw those established in Rawlins and Cheyenne counties. 

The initial church in Herndon was built in the country, but eventually a thriving Catholic church and sisters school were constructed in town. According to Alexander, the congregation numbered approximately 500 members - three-quarters of whom were German and the rest English and Bohemian. From 1892 to 1902, the church supported a resident priest. 

As a point of interest, this was the only sisters school in far northwest Kansas.

In 1905, a fire devastated the town, destroying most businesses. Because it was a railroad trade center, the community rebuilt. 

After becoming a station on the Orleans and St. Francis Division of C, B, and Q Railroad, Herndon continued to thrive. Alexander documented that it had a bank; a money-order post office; newspaper, telephone, telegraph, and express offices; a hotel, flour mill, multiple general stores and implement businesses; Catholic and Protestant churches; and a population of 273, which peaked at 443 in 1940.

Visitors today note reduced population—around 119 according to a recent census.

 Travelers swiftly spy a charming community park and nearby ball field surrounded by a Depression era Works Progress Administration or Civilian Conservation Corps stone fence. Old buildings stand sentinel on Main Street to remind sightseers of this little burg’s glory days. Mostly tidy homes line streets, but the public and Catholic school deteriorate as does Immanuel Protestant Church. Local congregants maintain the Catholic Church in welcoming condition. An elevator at the end of Main Street punctuates agriculture’s continued importance.

I googled Herndon demographics and noted those looking to relocate can do so for well below the national average house price with a low to non-existent crime rate as added encouragement. When not playing in the safe streets of town, youngsters attend fine schools in Atwood. 

In a world connected by internet and Fed Ex trucks, new generations might want to seek adventure in far northwest Kansas.

Karen Madorin is a retired teacher, writer, photographer, outdoors lover, and sixth-generation Kansan.

<figure>
 <img src="https://media.eaglewebservices.com/public/2025/10/1760113136618.jpeg" alt="Main Street in Herndon, Kansas. Photo by Karen Madorin" />
 <figcaption>Main Street in Herndon, Kansas. Photo by Karen Madorin</figcaption>
 </figure>By KAREN MADORIN Cruising the Blue Highways of Kansas leads explorers to surprising finds. Recently, the hubs and I drove Highway 36 west in search of Junction 173, which led us to Herndon. We’d passed this exit but never turned to explore on numerous visits to a daughter who lives even closer to Colorado. During his game warden days, my spouse’d driven through, but I’d never popped a peeper on this northernmost realm of Kansas.Like every pioneer town in this region, settlers from Europe founded Herndon in the late 1800s - 1879 - to be exact. Austro-Hungarian newcomers originally called it Pesth, after Pest, Hungary, which history/geography-minded folk know merged and became Budapest.According to Kathy Alexander who writes Legends of Kansas, within years a new store owner with fewer ties to Hungary became the second postmaster and hoped to rename the town Lincoln to honor the assassinated U.S. president. That name was taken, so he opted for the moniker Herndon after Abraham Lincoln’s law partner William Herndon. This choice creates excellent Kansas Trivia as in "Which Kansas town was named after Abe Lincoln’s law partner?"Once the Chicago, Burlington, and Quincy Railroad came through in 1887, earnest development began. Herndon evolved into a local trade center surrounded by successful agriculture in the Beaver Creek drainage. Many of those agriculturalists practiced Catholicism, a frontier faith in northwest Kansas, which led area priests to establish regional missions. Atwood’s Reverend J.B. Glynn oversaw those established in Rawlins and Cheyenne counties. The initial church in Herndon was built in the country, but eventually a thriving Catholic church and sisters school were constructed in town. According to Alexander, the congregation numbered approximately 500 members - three-quarters of whom were German and the rest English and Bohemian. From 1892 to 1902, the church supported a resident priest. As a point of interest, this was the only sisters school in far northwest Kansas.In 1905, a fire devastated the town, destroying most businesses. Because it was a railroad trade center, the community rebuilt. After becoming a station on the Orleans and St. Francis Division of C, B, and Q Railroad, Herndon continued to thrive. Alexander documented that it had a bank; a money-order post office; newspaper, telephone, telegraph, and express offices; a hotel, flour mill, multiple general stores and implement businesses; Catholic and Protestant churches; and a population of 273, which peaked at 443 in 1940.Visitors today note reduced population—around 119 according to a recent census.<figure>
 <img src="https://media.eaglewebservices.com/public/2025/10/1760113710650.jpeg" alt="Herndon, Kansas. Photo by Karen Madorin" />
 <figcaption>Herndon, Kansas. Photo by Karen Madorin</figcaption>
 </figure><figure>
 <img src="https://media.eaglewebservices.com/public/2025/10/1760113769194.jpeg" alt="Herndon, Kansas. Photo by Karen Madorin" />
 <figcaption>Herndon, Kansas. Photo by Karen Madorin</figcaption>
 </figure> Travelers swiftly spy a charming community park and nearby ball field surrounded by a Depression era Works Progress Administration or Civilian Conservation Corps stone fence. Old buildings stand sentinel on Main Street to remind sightseers of this little burg’s glory days. Mostly tidy homes line streets, but the public and Catholic school deteriorate as does Immanuel Protestant Church. Local congregants maintain the Catholic Church in welcoming condition. An elevator at the end of Main Street punctuates agriculture’s continued importance.I googled Herndon demographics and noted those looking to relocate can do so for well below the national average house price with a low to non-existent crime rate as added encouragement. When not playing in the safe streets of town, youngsters attend fine schools in Atwood. In a world connected by internet and Fed Ex trucks, new generations might want to seek adventure in far northwest Kansas.Karen Madorin is a retired teacher, writer, photographer, outdoors lover, and sixth-generation Kansan.

MADORIN: Possibility awaits

The citizens of Hays are facing a deep field of city commission candidates, the most in memorable history. This could be due to multiple issues our community is facing: affordable housing, economic development, increasing property taxes and other equally significant matters. Like others, I chose to throw my hat in the ring as well.

I've watched city commission activities since moving here in 1992. Good and great commissioners have led Hays to where we are today. Nov. 4 will direct where we choose to be in the future. I encourage citizens to become engaged with our commissioners, attend meetings when possible and watch streamed meetings at your convenience. All the links are available on the city of Hays website and in social media posts.

Reviewing the existing candidates and their varied positions on the issue, I feel that many of our concerns for the future of Hays are shared. I took a step back, evaluated my existing obligations and priorities, deciding that I would not be able to dedicate the time and energy into being the candidate our community deserves and needs. I wouldn't like to be seen as "phoning it in." It's a position that carries weight, serving present and future citizens and visitors alike.

Although my name will still appear on the Nov. 4th General Election ballot, I'm asking the citizens to consider voting for up to three of the other fine candidates that have nobly stepped up to commit themselves to serving Hays. Do your research, and remember you're voting for our future, based on yesterday's results and tomorrow's promises.&nbsp;&nbsp;

<figure>
 <img src="https://media.eaglewebservices.com/public/2023/10/1698091063975.png" alt="Courtesy of Pixabay" />
 <figcaption>Courtesy of Pixabay</figcaption>
 </figure>The citizens of Hays are facing a deep field of city commission candidates, the most in memorable history. This could be due to multiple issues our community is facing: affordable housing, economic development, increasing property taxes and other equally significant matters. Like others, I chose to throw my hat in the ring as well.I've watched city commission activities since moving here in 1992. Good and great commissioners have led Hays to where we are today. Nov. 4 will direct where we choose to be in the future. I encourage citizens to become engaged with our commissioners, attend meetings when possible and watch streamed meetings at your convenience. All the links are available on the city of Hays website and in social media posts.Reviewing the existing candidates and their varied positions on the issue, I feel that many of our concerns for the future of Hays are shared. I took a step back, evaluated my existing obligations and priorities, deciding that I would not be able to dedicate the time and energy into being the candidate our community deserves and needs. I wouldn't like to be seen as "phoning it in." It's a position that carries weight, serving present and future citizens and visitors alike.Although my name will still appear on the Nov. 4th General Election ballot, I'm asking the citizens to consider voting for up to three of the other fine candidates that have nobly stepped up to commit themselves to serving Hays. Do your research, and remember you're voting for our future, based on yesterday's results and tomorrow's promises.&nbsp;&nbsp;—&nbsp;Justin Choitz&nbsp;

LETTER: Hays City Commission candidate withdraws

The items are arriving fast and furious for the Eagle On-Line Auction at Hays Post.

&nbsp;If you would like to get in on the action of this year’s online auction, click on the link below.&nbsp;

Dive into a digital treasure trove of savings with the Eagle Radio Online Auction!

<a href="https://hayspost.com/pages/eagle-radio-auction-descriptions-of-items">Click here&nbsp;to get registered, view items and bid.</a>

Bid now on an expansive collection ranging from home essentials to tantalizing restaurant gift cards, and valuable services from esteemed local companies and save.

 Whether you're seeking something specific or just browsing for unexpected finds, our vast selection promises both variety and value. 

The Eagle Radio online auction — where saving money is just a click away!

<figure>
 <img src="https://media.eaglewebservices.com/public/2025/9/1758644527286.png" alt="" />
 <figcaption></figcaption>
 </figure>The items are arriving fast and furious for the Eagle On-Line Auction at Hays Post.&nbsp;If you would like to get in on the action of this year’s online auction, click on the link below.&nbsp;Dive into a digital treasure trove of savings with the Eagle Radio Online Auction!<a href="https://hayspost.com/pages/eagle-radio-auction-descriptions-of-items">Click here&nbsp;to get registered, view items and bid.</a>Bid now on an expansive collection ranging from home essentials to tantalizing restaurant gift cards, and valuable services from esteemed local companies and save. Whether you're seeking something specific or just browsing for unexpected finds, our vast selection promises both variety and value. <h2>The Eagle Radio online auction — where saving money is just a click away!</h2>

Eagle Radio Auction live now!

By STEVE GILLILAND Explore Kansas Outdoors

Among my top ten favorite life experiences has been sitting on my brother’s porch after dark, when he lived deep in the southeastern Ohio woods, listening to the sounds of the night. There are whippoorwills and coyotes and all the small croaking, twittering creatures of the dark, but the main attraction was always the owls. 

From the eerie whines of tiny screech owls, to the deep, bass moans of great horned owls, and the tell-tale “Who cooks for you, who cooks for you too” cries of barred owls, the night time woods always came alive with owl calls.

A little-known owl species here in Kansas is the burrowing owl, a medium-sized owl that make their home in abandoned badger and prairie dog dens. 

I was introduced to burrowing owls a few years back during an opening day pheasant hunt near my home. We were a large group of 15 or so hunters and were trudging across an overgrown CRP field. As we walked, birds identified by the landowner (who was with us) as hawks began taking flight, one-at-a-time from out of nowhere. Looking back, I believe those birds were in fact burrowing owls being spooked by our presence from their dens that were probably old abandoned badger holes.

Studies show burrowing owl populations to be in sharp decline, easily imagined here in Midwestern farm country where badger dens are not welcome and are filled-in when possible, and where prairie dog towns as a whole are hard to come by anymore. 

They are listed as endangered in Canada, as threatened in Mexico, and as endangered, threatened or of special concern in nine of the United States. Here in Kansas, they are listed as “vulnerable.” 

Burrowing owls are active both day and night and often live in colonies of several mated pairs. They drag all manner of stuff into their dens as nesting material, and I found numerous mentions of cow manure being a favorite. Researchers believe the manure somehow helps control the microclimate of the den, plus attracts insects which the owls feed on. Typical clutch sizes are from 3 to 12 eggs, and large families of chicks are often raised. Their main diet is mice and moles during spring and early summer when they’re still feeding hungry chicks, then mainly grasshoppers and beetles as long as they can still be found.

 Burrowing owls stand 10 to 12 inches tall when mature and have long, featherless legs and white eyebrows above extremely large, bright and beautiful yellow eyes. All birds make some sort of vocal sounds, and even though burrowing owl calls are not noteworthy at all compared to some of their vocal cousins, they do make a few cooing, chirping sounds, the most recognized being a two-note sound reminiscent of a quail call.

We recently watched a TV documentary about swift foxes and burrowing owls living in suburban neighborhoods around Las Vegas. 

Since watching that documentary, we have found a couple dens of burrowing owls living in a sprawling prairie dog encampment near Walmart in Hutchinson. We can see their dens from a side street, so now every time we are in that part of town (which is way too often for me) we swing past, and if they are sitting at the entrance to their den, we stop and watch awhile. They are surrounded by active prairie dog dens and the dogs scurry about and graze as if the owls weren’t there at all. 

In fact, the little owls probably benefit from the prairie dog’s surveillance system. In an active prairie dog town there are always certain occupants designated as sentries whose job it is to keep watch for danger, and when intruders are spotted in the form of foxes, hawks or merely nosey humans, they sound an alarm by rising quickly up on their hind feet, stretching their heads skyward and emitting&nbsp;shrill high pitched chirps of danger, sending all their brethren scurrying for cover and affording the owls a chance to dive into their burrows too.

One of these days I’m going to wonder around through the prairie dog towns around Walmart to see if there are signs of any other little owls there. I’ve always wondered if there are prairie rattlesnakes living there amongst the prairie dogs, too. They are common inhabitants of abandoned prairie dog dens, although not quite as cordial as the owls, given that they often eat the landlords. 

Steve can be contacted by email at stevenrgilliland@gmail.com.

<figure>
 <img src="https://media.eaglewebservices.com/public/2025/10/1760029789187.jpeg" alt="Burrowing owl. Photo by Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife" />
 <figcaption>Burrowing owl. Photo by Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife</figcaption>
 </figure>By STEVE GILLILAND Explore Kansas OutdoorsI love birds of prey, especially owls. Among my top ten favorite life experiences has been sitting on my brother’s porch after dark, when he lived deep in the southeastern Ohio woods, listening to the sounds of the night. There are whippoorwills and coyotes and all the small croaking, twittering creatures of the dark, but the main attraction was always the owls. From the eerie whines of tiny screech owls, to the deep, bass moans of great horned owls, and the tell-tale “Who cooks for you, who cooks for you too” cries of barred owls, the night time woods always came alive with owl calls.A little-known owl species here in Kansas is the burrowing owl, a medium-sized owl that make their home in abandoned badger and prairie dog dens. I was introduced to burrowing owls a few years back during an opening day pheasant hunt near my home. We were a large group of 15 or so hunters and were trudging across an overgrown CRP field. As we walked, birds identified by the landowner (who was with us) as hawks began taking flight, one-at-a-time from out of nowhere. Looking back, I believe those birds were in fact burrowing owls being spooked by our presence from their dens that were probably old abandoned badger holes.Studies show burrowing owl populations to be in sharp decline, easily imagined here in Midwestern farm country where badger dens are not welcome and are filled-in when possible, and where prairie dog towns as a whole are hard to come by anymore. They are listed as endangered in Canada, as threatened in Mexico, and as endangered, threatened or of special concern in nine of the United States. Here in Kansas, they are listed as “vulnerable.” Burrowing owls are active both day and night and often live in colonies of several mated pairs. They drag all manner of stuff into their dens as nesting material, and I found numerous mentions of cow manure being a favorite. Researchers believe the manure somehow helps control the microclimate of the den, plus attracts insects which the owls feed on. Typical clutch sizes are from 3 to 12 eggs, and large families of chicks are often raised. Their main diet is mice and moles during spring and early summer when they’re still feeding hungry chicks, then mainly grasshoppers and beetles as long as they can still be found. Burrowing owls stand 10 to 12 inches tall when mature and have long, featherless legs and white eyebrows above extremely large, bright and beautiful yellow eyes. All birds make some sort of vocal sounds, and even though burrowing owl calls are not noteworthy at all compared to some of their vocal cousins, they do make a few cooing, chirping sounds, the most recognized being a two-note sound reminiscent of a quail call.We recently watched a TV documentary about swift foxes and burrowing owls living in suburban neighborhoods around Las Vegas. Since watching that documentary, we have found a couple dens of burrowing owls living in a sprawling prairie dog encampment near Walmart in Hutchinson. We can see their dens from a side street, so now every time we are in that part of town (which is way too often for me) we swing past, and if they are sitting at the entrance to their den, we stop and watch awhile. They are surrounded by active prairie dog dens and the dogs scurry about and graze as if the owls weren’t there at all. In fact, the little owls probably benefit from the prairie dog’s surveillance system. In an active prairie dog town there are always certain occupants designated as sentries whose job it is to keep watch for danger, and when intruders are spotted in the form of foxes, hawks or merely nosey humans, they sound an alarm by rising quickly up on their hind feet, stretching their heads skyward and emitting&nbsp;shrill high pitched chirps of danger, sending all their brethren scurrying for cover and affording the owls a chance to dive into their burrows too.One of these days I’m going to wonder around through the prairie dog towns around Walmart to see if there are signs of any other little owls there. I’ve always wondered if there are prairie rattlesnakes living there amongst the prairie dogs, too. They are common inhabitants of abandoned prairie dog dens, although not quite as cordial as the owls, given that they often eat the landlords. Continue to Explore Kansas Outdoors!Steve can be contacted by email at stevenrgilliland@gmail.com.

Explore Kansas Outdoors: Have you an owl in your burrow?

By&nbsp;MARK JOSLYN Insight Kansas

It’s not about defeating Sharice Davids.&nbsp;After all, a Democrat occupying one of the four congressional seats is nothing new. It’s not about appeasing Trump. Republicans’ penchant to gerrymander predates his involvement. It’s about Johnson County.

For decades, JoCo outpaced statewide Republican support. For example, when Eisenhower carried Kansas with a whopping 69 percent of the vote, JoCo surpassed that mark with 72.5 percent. When Reagan reached 66 percent, JoCo secured 72.4 percent.

Even in Democrat years, JoCo never wavered. When FDR won the state for a second time, JoCo delivered 57.7 percent of its vote to Republican nominee, and Kansas Governor, Alf Landon. When Kansans chose Democrat Lyndon Johnson, a majority of JoCo voters favored Barry Goldwater.&nbsp;The first signs of change came in 2008.

JoCo’s Republican vote share lagged the statewide average by almost 3 points, the largest such gap since 1917, the last time the county supported a Democrat for president.&nbsp;By 2016 the gap ballooned to 10 points and expanded in 2020 when the county finally flipped blue. Democrat advances appeared down the ballot too.

In 2018, Laura Kelley thumped Kris Kobach in JoCo by 17 points, though statewide it was a 5-point race. In her reelection bid, Kelley realized nearly 60 percent of JoCo’s vote and the county’s state House and Senate Democrat delegations increased.

JoCo’s majority support was pivotal in Sharice Davids’ defeat of incumbent Kevin Yoder for the Third District. Her county vote share has since grown to 55 percent.&nbsp;

For the first time in Kansas history a Democrat Senate candidate won JoCo, though Roger Marshall prevailed statewide. In 2022, Senator Jerry Moran vote share in JoCo dropped to 46.7 percent, down from 62.1 percent a decade before.

And in 2024, Byron Roberson became the first Democrat elected JoCo sheriff in nearly a century. The changes have rattled Republicans who recognize further decline could be costly. 

Trump’s call to redraw the maps mid-decade thus comes at an opportune time, giving Republican leaders cover to once again use their redistricting leverage. 

By dividing the county, and merging its parts with strong GOP districts, a gerrymander reduces JoCo Democrats to a fragmented minority, their influence diminished by the dilution of their voting power.&nbsp;

A gerrymander also weakens JoCo’s ascendant political structure. No longer able to organize an efficacious majority around shared priorities, JoCo Democrats would have to rebuild a broader, layered infrastructure that spans the diverse interests of suburban and rural communities.&nbsp;

With their base fractured, Democrats may struggle to unify their message, energize supporters, and build strong leadership.

Should Republican leaders pull it off, a gerrymander will, at minimum, blunt Democratic momentum, diminish Davids’ margins, and facilitate GOP actions against a weakened JoCo operation.&nbsp;

But it’s a tightrope, requiring a special session, supermajorities, considerable arm-twisting, and the risks of legal challenges.&nbsp;Whether it’s perceived as an assault on democratic principles or smart political strategy depends on one’s partisan leanings.

State legislatures do have the authority to redraw districts. And both parties appear ready to exercise that power.

JoCo’s outsized influence in the state’s electoral calculus and notable shift toward Democrats makes this a weighty moment for Republican leaders.&nbsp;

Mark R. Joslyn is a professor of political science at the University of Kansas.&nbsp;

<figure>
 <img src="https://media.eaglewebservices.com/public/2023/9/1695215697316.png" alt="Dr. Mark Joslyn&nbsp;is a professor of political science at the University of Kansas. Courtesy photo" />
 <figcaption>Dr. Mark Joslyn&nbsp;is a professor of political science at the University of Kansas. Courtesy photo</figcaption>
 </figure>By&nbsp;MARK JOSLYN Insight KansasIt’s not about defeating Sharice Davids.&nbsp;After all, a Democrat occupying one of the four congressional seats is nothing new. It’s not about appeasing Trump. Republicans’ penchant to gerrymander predates his involvement. It’s about Johnson County.For decades, JoCo outpaced statewide Republican support. For example, when Eisenhower carried Kansas with a whopping 69 percent of the vote, JoCo surpassed that mark with 72.5 percent. When Reagan reached 66 percent, JoCo secured 72.4 percent.Even in Democrat years, JoCo never wavered. When FDR won the state for a second time, JoCo delivered 57.7 percent of its vote to Republican nominee, and Kansas Governor, Alf Landon. When Kansans chose Democrat Lyndon Johnson, a majority of JoCo voters favored Barry Goldwater.&nbsp;The first signs of change came in 2008.JoCo’s Republican vote share lagged the statewide average by almost 3 points, the largest such gap since 1917, the last time the county supported a Democrat for president.&nbsp;By 2016 the gap ballooned to 10 points and expanded in 2020 when the county finally flipped blue. Democrat advances appeared down the ballot too.In 2018, Laura Kelley thumped Kris Kobach in JoCo by 17 points, though statewide it was a 5-point race. In her reelection bid, Kelley realized nearly 60 percent of JoCo’s vote and the county’s state House and Senate Democrat delegations increased.JoCo’s majority support was pivotal in Sharice Davids’ defeat of incumbent Kevin Yoder for the Third District. Her county vote share has since grown to 55 percent.&nbsp;For the first time in Kansas history a Democrat Senate candidate won JoCo, though Roger Marshall prevailed statewide. In 2022, Senator Jerry Moran vote share in JoCo dropped to 46.7 percent, down from 62.1 percent a decade before.And in 2024, Byron Roberson became the first Democrat elected JoCo sheriff in nearly a century. The changes have rattled Republicans who recognize further decline could be costly. Trump’s call to redraw the maps mid-decade thus comes at an opportune time, giving Republican leaders cover to once again use their redistricting leverage. By dividing the county, and merging its parts with strong GOP districts, a gerrymander reduces JoCo Democrats to a fragmented minority, their influence diminished by the dilution of their voting power.&nbsp;A gerrymander also weakens JoCo’s ascendant political structure. No longer able to organize an efficacious majority around shared priorities, JoCo Democrats would have to rebuild a broader, layered infrastructure that spans the diverse interests of suburban and rural communities.&nbsp;With their base fractured, Democrats may struggle to unify their message, energize supporters, and build strong leadership.Should Republican leaders pull it off, a gerrymander will, at minimum, blunt Democratic momentum, diminish Davids’ margins, and facilitate GOP actions against a weakened JoCo operation.&nbsp;But it’s a tightrope, requiring a special session, supermajorities, considerable arm-twisting, and the risks of legal challenges.&nbsp;Whether it’s perceived as an assault on democratic principles or smart political strategy depends on one’s partisan leanings.State legislatures do have the authority to redraw districts. And both parties appear ready to exercise that power.JoCo’s outsized influence in the state’s electoral calculus and notable shift toward Democrats makes this a weighty moment for Republican leaders.&nbsp;Mark R. Joslyn is a professor of political science at the University of Kansas.&nbsp;

INSIGHT KANSAS: The fight over maps is really a fight over JoCo. 

You're probably already aware, but there's some recent controversy regarding the Hays Public Library's book choices: <a target="_blank" href="https://www.facebook.com/share/p/1CoLQpr9XB/">https://www.facebook.com/share/p/1CoLQpr9XB/</a>

<a target="_blank" href="https://www.facebook.com/share/p/1CoLQpr9XB/"></a>The above picture is an excerpt from a book being pushed to children and on display in the Hays Public Library.

Many of these terminologies will likely never make it into a Hays Post article for general public consumption, so I'm not sure the logic on pushing this on kids that 'should' be in a very curated learning environment in the public library that is allocated quite a sum of money from taxpayers every year.

Additionally, I assume their board meeting at 4 p.m. Wednesday, Oct. 15 will be well attended by the public.&nbsp;&nbsp;

<figure>
 <img src="https://media.eaglewebservices.com/public/2025/10/1760026079060.jpeg" alt="Submitted photo" />
 <figcaption>Submitted photo</figcaption>
 </figure> You're probably already aware, but there's some recent controversy regarding the Hays Public Library's book choices: <a target="_blank" href="https://www.facebook.com/share/p/1CoLQpr9XB/">https://www.facebook.com/share/p/1CoLQpr9XB/</a><a target="_blank" href="https://www.facebook.com/share/p/1CoLQpr9XB/"></a>The above picture is an excerpt from a book being pushed to children and on display in the Hays Public Library. Many of these terminologies will likely never make it into a Hays Post article for general public consumption, so I'm not sure the logic on pushing this on kids that 'should' be in a very curated learning environment in the public library that is allocated quite a sum of money from taxpayers every year.Additionally, I assume their board meeting at 4 p.m. Wednesday, Oct. 15 will be well attended by the public.&nbsp;&nbsp;Joseph Boeckner, Hays

LETTER: Controversy in Hays Public Library's book choices

Last week I researched the relationship between milkweed and Monarch butterflies and felt comfortable saying that plant makes those orange-winged wonders toxic to predators. While true in many cases, I discovered in my own flower bed that some common garden critters devour those fluttering visitors without ill effect. For example, Charlotte, our resident yellow orb garden spider devoured one within a couple days after trapping it in her giant web and still lives.

Some of my friends can’t talk about spiders let alone enjoy watching them, but this variety of garden spider is a a garden good guy. Along with jumping spiders, they make friendly, non-venomous neighbors with entertaining antics. As a bonus, orb weavers eat insects like grasshoppers that I don’t want gnawing holes in leaves, tomatoes, and other produce. In fact, this one established her expansive web in a grasshopper-rich section of our flower bed. We watched several incidents over the summer where she’d capture a bristly-legged destruction machine, wrap it in silk, and then leisurely dine al fresco.

As moon phases repeated, Charlotte’s web changed, I researched this species and learned they recycle webs. When the silk fibers thin and weaken, these dramatic hour glass-shaped female yellow and black, long-legged arachnids eat old silk and recycle its protein into a new one. An identifying marker of its trap is a zig-zag patch somewhere near mid-section, which researchers suggest adds strength for catching large prey like grasshoppers and big butterflies. True to form, our girl’s webs incorporated that signature design.

Depending on food supply, Charlotte appears thin or plump. Her combined head and thorax were more than an inch-and-a-half long with even longer legs when I noticed her in June. She hasn’t grown noticeably bigger so the insects she eats simply sustain her. At one time, I thought a much smaller, plain-clothed male orb weaver visited and left her producing an egg sac, but, thankfully, baby spiders never emerged. Hordes of them might have altered my opinion about sharing space.

All this said, Charlotte caused distress several days ago. We love watching migrating monarchs in September and October. Some years, scores stop by, but this year has been slow. Six visiting at a time constitutes a good day. Apparently, one decided to sample nasturtiums near our orb weaver’s silken strands. Like grasshoppers and moths entrapped earlier, this transient wonder entangled itself in that complex netting.

By the time I found the monarch, Charlotte had encased it in silken fiber and was dining at her convenience. So what about those orange wings and milkweed-induced toxins? Was my pretty spider dying? Off to the keyboard to see what wisdom entomologists might impart. Apparently, these spiders safely consume monarchs either by eating around concentrated glycosides or by processing them without ill-effect. I searched for uneaten orange wings but saw none discarded amongst the dense greenery surrounding Charlotte’s web.

While I hope to send every monarch that visits our flowers safely to Mexican highlands to over-winter, I can’t blame Charlotte for harvesting the equivalent of a Thanksgiving turkey dinner. After all, a girl’s gotta protect her figure.

<figure>
 <img src="https://media.eaglewebservices.com/public/2025/10/1759954500814.jpeg" alt="Courtesy photo" />
 <figcaption>Courtesy photo</figcaption>
 </figure>By KAREN MADORINLast week I researched the relationship between milkweed and Monarch butterflies and felt comfortable saying that plant makes those orange-winged wonders toxic to predators. While true in many cases, I discovered in my own flower bed that some common garden critters devour those fluttering visitors without ill effect. For example, Charlotte, our resident yellow orb garden spider devoured one within a couple days after trapping it in her giant web and still lives.Some of my friends can’t talk about spiders let alone enjoy watching them, but this variety of garden spider is a a garden good guy. Along with jumping spiders, they make friendly, non-venomous neighbors with entertaining antics. As a bonus, orb weavers eat insects like grasshoppers that I don’t want gnawing holes in leaves, tomatoes, and other produce. In fact, this one established her expansive web in a grasshopper-rich section of our flower bed. We watched several incidents over the summer where she’d capture a bristly-legged destruction machine, wrap it in silk, and then leisurely dine al fresco.As moon phases repeated, Charlotte’s web changed, I researched this species and learned they recycle webs. When the silk fibers thin and weaken, these dramatic hour glass-shaped female yellow and black, long-legged arachnids eat old silk and recycle its protein into a new one. An identifying marker of its trap is a zig-zag patch somewhere near mid-section, which researchers suggest adds strength for catching large prey like grasshoppers and big butterflies. True to form, our girl’s webs incorporated that signature design.<figure>
 <img src="https://media.eaglewebservices.com/public/2025/10/1759954563333.jpeg" alt="Courtesy photo" />
 <figcaption>Courtesy photo</figcaption>
 </figure>Depending on food supply, Charlotte appears thin or plump. Her combined head and thorax were more than an inch-and-a-half long with even longer legs when I noticed her in June. She hasn’t grown noticeably bigger so the insects she eats simply sustain her. At one time, I thought a much smaller, plain-clothed male orb weaver visited and left her producing an egg sac, but, thankfully, baby spiders never emerged. Hordes of them might have altered my opinion about sharing space.All this said, Charlotte caused distress several days ago. We love watching migrating monarchs in September and October. Some years, scores stop by, but this year has been slow. Six visiting at a time constitutes a good day. Apparently, one decided to sample nasturtiums near our orb weaver’s silken strands. Like grasshoppers and moths entrapped earlier, this transient wonder entangled itself in that complex netting.By the time I found the monarch, Charlotte had encased it in silken fiber and was dining at her convenience. So what about those orange wings and milkweed-induced toxins? Was my pretty spider dying? Off to the keyboard to see what wisdom entomologists might impart. Apparently, these spiders safely consume monarchs either by eating around concentrated glycosides or by processing them without ill-effect. I searched for uneaten orange wings but saw none discarded amongst the dense greenery surrounding Charlotte’s web.While I hope to send every monarch that visits our flowers safely to Mexican highlands to over-winter, I can’t blame Charlotte for harvesting the equivalent of a Thanksgiving turkey dinner. After all, a girl’s gotta protect her figure.Karen Madorin is a retired teacher, writer, photographer, outdoors lover, and sixth-generation Kansan.

MADORIN: Learning something new

I used this column once a few years ago, but as fall closes in on us, and I can almost smell the comforting scent of woodsmoke in the air, I think it’s a good fit for this week’s column. 

Ages ago when I wore a much younger man's clothes, I heated my home with wood. Cutting firewood is hard on the back but was always enjoyable to me, and I’ve had some interesting experiences whilst collecting my winter’s fuel, to include smashing the rear windshield out of my dad’s pickup with an errantly tossed chunk of hard hedge wood.

When I was still in my late twenties, my dad and I got permission to cut dead trees from a patch of Ohio woods that sat well off the road at the end of a long, hilly, winding tractor path. 

We spent a day cutting and dragging several trees into the alfalfa field that bordered the woods. The following Saturday we again wound our way up the rutted tractor path, looking forward to a rewarding day of simply cutting-up and hauling the now easily-accessible wood. All that greeted us as we entered the field were dozens of neat little rows of sawdust, the only evidence left after someone had cut up and made-off with all our firewood.

A few years later, I found a good-sized uprooted tree in the small woodlot I owned. The hole left in the ground beneath the roots was the size of a Volkswagen and three feet deep. 

With the tree already flat on the ground, I cut all the limbs and dragged them out of my way, then with the main trunk ready to chunk up, I started cutting at the upper end and worked my way toward the giant root ball.

 I hadn’t made it very far when something happened to the saw, requiring a tool that was still at the house. I started to set the saw in the crater beneath the roots, but for some reason changed my mind and placed it on the ground a few feet away. When I returned with the tool, I thought I had stepped through a worm-hole into another dimension or something, 'cause the downed tree and the saw were both gone. I wandered around in circles and finally stumbled onto the saw on the ground, but where was the uprooted tree?

 It took me awhile to realize that removing all the limbs and cutting off the upper part of the tree had allowed the weight of the root ball to stand the remaining trunk of the tree back upright into the crater. Good thing I decided against putting my saw there; even better that I hadn’t sat down in there for a nap!

The granddaddy of all firewood mishaps took place on a dreary fall Saturday while cutting down a huge dead wild cherry tree that stood just across the driveway from our house. My firewood cutting skills were the stuff of legends….once I got a tree on the ground, but putting it there without catastrophe often eluded me. 

I clambered as high into the behemoth as I could get and encircled the trunk with a log chain, then attached an old hay rope salvaged from the barn and ran it yards out into the open field where dad sat waiting on the trusty Farmall H.

 Cutting was a slow process with a chainsaw barely half the length of the tree’s diameter, but a notch was soon cut toward the open field. As I cut on the other side, I motioned for dad to put tension on the rope and chain. 

The tree began to list slightly, so I cut a bit further then stepped back, figuring to watch our prize topple into the open field. However, the sound of cracking wood was drowned out by the sound of snapping rope fibers as the old hay rope gave up the ghost. 

Half a year’s firewood teetered and wobbled for a few seconds before crashing the opposite direction across the drive and onto the power lines, putting the whole neighborhood out of power, during an Ohio State football game no less, which was akin to losing power at the nursing home during Wheel of Fortune. The neighbors' anger was matched only by the power company guys who had to come out on a Saturday. 

It seems our firewood heated the entire neighborhood that day…

<figure>
 <img src="https://media.eaglewebservices.com/public/2019/11/1574696211722.png" alt="Steve Gilliland. Courtesy photo" />
 <figcaption>Steve Gilliland. Courtesy photo</figcaption>
 </figure>I used this column once a few years ago, but as fall closes in on us, and I can almost smell the comforting scent of woodsmoke in the air, I think it’s a good fit for this week’s column. Ages ago when I wore a much younger man's clothes, I heated my home with wood. Cutting firewood is hard on the back but was always enjoyable to me, and I’ve had some interesting experiences whilst collecting my winter’s fuel, to include smashing the rear windshield out of my dad’s pickup with an errantly tossed chunk of hard hedge wood.When I was still in my late twenties, my dad and I got permission to cut dead trees from a patch of Ohio woods that sat well off the road at the end of a long, hilly, winding tractor path. We spent a day cutting and dragging several trees into the alfalfa field that bordered the woods. The following Saturday we again wound our way up the rutted tractor path, looking forward to a rewarding day of simply cutting-up and hauling the now easily-accessible wood. All that greeted us as we entered the field were dozens of neat little rows of sawdust, the only evidence left after someone had cut up and made-off with all our firewood.A few years later, I found a good-sized uprooted tree in the small woodlot I owned. The hole left in the ground beneath the roots was the size of a Volkswagen and three feet deep. With the tree already flat on the ground, I cut all the limbs and dragged them out of my way, then with the main trunk ready to chunk up, I started cutting at the upper end and worked my way toward the giant root ball. I hadn’t made it very far when something happened to the saw, requiring a tool that was still at the house. I started to set the saw in the crater beneath the roots, but for some reason changed my mind and placed it on the ground a few feet away. When I returned with the tool, I thought I had stepped through a worm-hole into another dimension or something, 'cause the downed tree and the saw were both gone. I wandered around in circles and finally stumbled onto the saw on the ground, but where was the uprooted tree? It took me awhile to realize that removing all the limbs and cutting off the upper part of the tree had allowed the weight of the root ball to stand the remaining trunk of the tree back upright into the crater. Good thing I decided against putting my saw there; even better that I hadn’t sat down in there for a nap!The granddaddy of all firewood mishaps took place on a dreary fall Saturday while cutting down a huge dead wild cherry tree that stood just across the driveway from our house. My firewood cutting skills were the stuff of legends….once I got a tree on the ground, but putting it there without catastrophe often eluded me. I clambered as high into the behemoth as I could get and encircled the trunk with a log chain, then attached an old hay rope salvaged from the barn and ran it yards out into the open field where dad sat waiting on the trusty Farmall H. Cutting was a slow process with a chainsaw barely half the length of the tree’s diameter, but a notch was soon cut toward the open field. As I cut on the other side, I motioned for dad to put tension on the rope and chain. The tree began to list slightly, so I cut a bit further then stepped back, figuring to watch our prize topple into the open field. However, the sound of cracking wood was drowned out by the sound of snapping rope fibers as the old hay rope gave up the ghost. Half a year’s firewood teetered and wobbled for a few seconds before crashing the opposite direction across the drive and onto the power lines, putting the whole neighborhood out of power, during an Ohio State football game no less, which was akin to losing power at the nursing home during Wheel of Fortune. The neighbors' anger was matched only by the power company guys who had to come out on a Saturday. It seems our firewood heated the entire neighborhood that day…Continue to Explore Kansas Outdoors.Steve can be contacted by email at stevenrgilliland@gmail.com.

Explore Kansas Outdoors: Firewood Follies

By RUSSELL ARBEN FOX Insight Kansas

On September 21, the day before the autumn equinox, about 20 people gathered in Memorial Park in Winfield, to mark the conclusion of a local celebration of “Sun Day.” It was a hot Sunday afternoon, and downtown Winfield was pretty quiet. But that didn’t defeat the spirit that was felt by the participants, and the pride they had in doing their part for the cause.

<a href="https://www.sunday.earth/">Sun Day</a> was the brainchild of Bill McKibben, an environmental journalist and activist who has educated millions over the decades with his writings on climate change, renewable energy, local food production, and the conservation of natural spaces. Given the many failures which environmentalism has faced when confronted by the consumptive habits of modern America, McKibben’s work has often been rather dour.

Yet of late McKibben has been enthusiastic, even downright giddy—because amazing innovations in <a href="https://www.earth.com/news/solar-panels-are-1000-times-more-powerful-with-new-tech-breakthrough/">photovoltaic cells</a>, <a href="https://www.eenews.net/articles/grid-batteries-defy-trump-crackdown-on-renewables/">solar grid batteries</a> and more over the past decade have changed the game: renewable means of generating electricity are now, <a href="https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/wind-and-solar-energy-are-cheaper-than-electricity-from-fossil-fuel-plants/">even without government subsidies</a>, cheaper than doing so by burning fossil fuels.

This, McKibben felt, is news to be celebrated. 

Hence, Sun Day—a national day of action, with close of <a href="https://www.sunday.earth/events">500 events</a> scheduled across the United States and around the world, involving art and music, workshops and worship, all focused on helping people to appreciate the momentousness of this technological and environmental moment, and hopefully. thereby encouraging them to take advantage of and build upon these new opportunities to get power directly from the sun.

Such encouragement is still very much needed. Just because the technology exists doesn’t mean that the transition to it will be simple. The upfront costs are significant, the needed infrastructure is difficult to install, and the financial realities of solar power (from negotiating with China, where most of the advances in the technology are taking place, to negotiating with local energy companies, who want to maintain the profitability of their grids) are complicated to say the least. 

On top of that, falsehoods about renewable energy—some of which can be <a href="https://energyandpolicy.org/charles-koch-distorts-the-facts-prevents-clean-energy-businesses-from-succeeding/">traced back to Kansas’s own Koch Industries</a>--flow far too easily from both the <a href="https://www.pbs.org/newshour/politics/trump-called-climate-change-a-con-job-at-the-united-nations-here-are-the-facts-and-context">White House</a> and <a href="https://www.kansascity.com/opinion/readers-opinion/guest-commentary/article259977165.html">Topeka</a>, leading too often to <a href="https://www.kcur.org/2023-11-08/communities-skeptical-of-solar-kansas">county-level resistance</a> to increasingly affordable solar panel installations.

Nonetheless, personal experiences—and business savings—with renewables are combining with political education to build momentum. 

Despite cuts in support for alternative energy sources in the Big Beautiful Bill, <a href="https://kansasreflector.com/2025/09/03/evergy-says-federal-changes-wont-affect-planned-solar-projects-in-kansas-and-missouri/">Evergy still plans to move ahead</a> with its plans for solar projects in Kansas and Missouri (though it’s hedging its bets with new natural gas projects as well), and <a href="https://www.yahoo.com/news/articles/massive-kansas-solar-farm-sparks-165122426.html?guccounter=1">NextEra Energy in Jackson County</a> isn’t far behind. The growing demand by Kansans for rooftop or deck solar panels are <a href="https://kansasreflector.com/2024/02/14/kansas-homeowners-urge-lawmakers-to-ban-punitive-rooftop-solar-restrictions/">leading to fights with homeowner associations</a>, all while more <a href="https://www.agriculture.com/solar-energy-is-powering-irrigation-11711496">farmers</a>, <a href="https://www.kumc.edu/about/news/news-archive/kumc-solar-panels.html">hospitals</a>, and <a href="https://www.columbiatribune.com/story/news/local/2025/07/14/solarize-columbia-campaign-can-make-solar-panels-cheaper/84532449007/">homeowners</a> are seeing the light (literally).

A personal confession of interest here: we installed solar panels on our Wichita home over three years ago, and aside from one breakdown with our connection to the grid early on—which was, I admit, an expensive pain—our electric bills have been a tiny fraction of what they once were ever since.

 Looking around Kansas’s largest city, I see solar start-ups and increased interest&nbsp;everywhere. A full transition to renewables is still years, if not decades, away. But on Sun Day, in downtown Winfield, this more environmentally sustainable and financially affordable future seemed closer to me, and my fellow renewable energy advocates, than it ever has been before.

Dr. Russell Arben Fox teaches politics at Friends University in Wichita.

<figure>
 <img src="https://media.eaglewebservices.com/public/2025/10/1759418175362.png" alt="Sun Day 2025 in Winfield Memorial Park. Photo by Ann Fell/Winfield" />
 <figcaption>Sun Day 2025 in Winfield Memorial Park. Photo by Ann Fell/Winfield</figcaption>
 </figure>By RUSSELL ARBEN FOX Insight KansasOn September 21, the day before the autumn equinox, about 20 people gathered in Memorial Park in Winfield, to mark the conclusion of a local celebration of “Sun Day.” It was a hot Sunday afternoon, and downtown Winfield was pretty quiet. But that didn’t defeat the spirit that was felt by the participants, and the pride they had in doing their part for the cause.What cause? Solar power, of course. <a href="https://www.sunday.earth/">Sun Day</a> was the brainchild of Bill McKibben, an environmental journalist and activist who has educated millions over the decades with his writings on climate change, renewable energy, local food production, and the conservation of natural spaces. Given the many failures which environmentalism has faced when confronted by the consumptive habits of modern America, McKibben’s work has often been rather dour. Yet of late McKibben has been enthusiastic, even downright giddy—because amazing innovations in <a href="https://www.earth.com/news/solar-panels-are-1000-times-more-powerful-with-new-tech-breakthrough/">photovoltaic cells</a>, <a href="https://www.eenews.net/articles/grid-batteries-defy-trump-crackdown-on-renewables/">solar grid batteries</a> and more over the past decade have changed the game: renewable means of generating electricity are now, <a href="https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/wind-and-solar-energy-are-cheaper-than-electricity-from-fossil-fuel-plants/">even without government subsidies</a>, cheaper than doing so by burning fossil fuels.This, McKibben felt, is news to be celebrated. Hence, Sun Day—a national day of action, with close of <a href="https://www.sunday.earth/events">500 events</a> scheduled across the United States and around the world, involving art and music, workshops and worship, all focused on helping people to appreciate the momentousness of this technological and environmental moment, and hopefully. thereby encouraging them to take advantage of and build upon these new opportunities to get power directly from the sun.Such encouragement is still very much needed. Just because the technology exists doesn’t mean that the transition to it will be simple. The upfront costs are significant, the needed infrastructure is difficult to install, and the financial realities of solar power (from negotiating with China, where most of the advances in the technology are taking place, to negotiating with local energy companies, who want to maintain the profitability of their grids) are complicated to say the least. On top of that, falsehoods about renewable energy—some of which can be <a href="https://energyandpolicy.org/charles-koch-distorts-the-facts-prevents-clean-energy-businesses-from-succeeding/">traced back to Kansas’s own Koch Industries</a>--flow far too easily from both the <a href="https://www.pbs.org/newshour/politics/trump-called-climate-change-a-con-job-at-the-united-nations-here-are-the-facts-and-context">White House</a> and <a href="https://www.kansascity.com/opinion/readers-opinion/guest-commentary/article259977165.html">Topeka</a>, leading too often to <a href="https://www.kcur.org/2023-11-08/communities-skeptical-of-solar-kansas">county-level resistance</a> to increasingly affordable solar panel installations.Nonetheless, personal experiences—and business savings—with renewables are combining with political education to build momentum. Despite cuts in support for alternative energy sources in the Big Beautiful Bill, <a href="https://kansasreflector.com/2025/09/03/evergy-says-federal-changes-wont-affect-planned-solar-projects-in-kansas-and-missouri/">Evergy still plans to move ahead</a> with its plans for solar projects in Kansas and Missouri (though it’s hedging its bets with new natural gas projects as well), and <a href="https://www.yahoo.com/news/articles/massive-kansas-solar-farm-sparks-165122426.html?guccounter=1">NextEra Energy in Jackson County</a> isn’t far behind. The growing demand by Kansans for rooftop or deck solar panels are <a href="https://kansasreflector.com/2024/02/14/kansas-homeowners-urge-lawmakers-to-ban-punitive-rooftop-solar-restrictions/">leading to fights with homeowner associations</a>, all while more <a href="https://www.agriculture.com/solar-energy-is-powering-irrigation-11711496">farmers</a>, <a href="https://www.kumc.edu/about/news/news-archive/kumc-solar-panels.html">hospitals</a>, and <a href="https://www.columbiatribune.com/story/news/local/2025/07/14/solarize-columbia-campaign-can-make-solar-panels-cheaper/84532449007/">homeowners</a> are seeing the light (literally).A personal confession of interest here: we installed solar panels on our Wichita home over three years ago, and aside from one breakdown with our connection to the grid early on—which was, I admit, an expensive pain—our electric bills have been a tiny fraction of what they once were ever since. Looking around Kansas’s largest city, I see solar start-ups and increased interest&nbsp;everywhere. A full transition to renewables is still years, if not decades, away. But on Sun Day, in downtown Winfield, this more environmentally sustainable and financially affordable future seemed closer to me, and my fellow renewable energy advocates, than it ever has been before.Dr. Russell Arben Fox teaches politics at Friends University in Wichita.

Insight Kansas: A sunny day, and a better day, in Kansas

Since spring, I’ve eyeballed milkweed plants growing in road ditches. Every time I spied one, I’d think of monarch butterflies searching for meals and nurseries to incubate eggs and nourish larvae. 

Eventually, I intended to harvest and plant seed pods to encourage more monarchs to flit amongst our flowers. Glory be, I remembered and now celebrate a bowl full of exploding milkweed fibers and seeds.

Nature and its symbiotic relationships fascinate me, none more than the one between monarch butterflies and the milkweed that graces prairies, roadsides, and open pastures across the mid-United States. Surprisingly, these 2- to 4-foot-tall perennials with globe-shaped leaves and pretty flowers manufacture toxins that drive most critters away. The monarch, however, evolved to utilize those chemicals as food and then internalize them to make themselves undesirable to prey.

For monarchs from the Rockies east, it starts with migration from mountains in Mexico as far as Canada each spring. Along that route, milkweed supports them with pinkish to lavender blooms and offers host plants where they lay pale, miniscule eggs on the underside of those round leaves.

Within days, those eggs hatch and scores of a favorite childhood literary character, "The Very Hungry Caterpillar", emerge. These bottomless pits eat only milkweed leaves. 

Due to a DNA mutation, their systems detoxify poisonous chemicals unique to this plant. Over an approximate two-week span, they eat, mature, and molt repeatedly, their colors continually intensifying. All this while they reprocess chemicals that will protect their butterfly incarnation.

 I plan to watch from a front row seat once my seeds develop enough to support this monarch stage of life.

Once a caterpillar achieves full size, it attaches to an object and forms a chrysalis. Inside that protective shell, miracles evolve in 10 to 14 days. The one-time caterpillar cells reconstitute themselves into a stunning black, orange, and white adult monarch toxic to prey.

Once wings harden so butterflies can flutter, these summer visitors flit from blossom to blossom feeding on nectar while pollinating plants. Though butterflies nourish themselves with various blooms, milkweed remains essential to monarch survival as a nursery host plant for egg laying, caterpillar food, and creating toxic wings.

Milkweed with its known cardiac glycosides is monarch larvae’s only food. During their development, that potent chemical cocktail collects in striped, pillowy caterpillar bodies—later becoming part and parcel of designer orange, black, and white wings as well as butterfly heads, thoraxes, and abdomens. 

When creatures up the food chain consume a monarch, they suffer anything from diarrhea to cardiac arrest. In the animal kingdom, devouring orange-winged insects is a no-no. Some species like the Viceroy evolved to mimic this protective coloring.

What a spectacular symbiotic match between a unique plant with exploding seed pods to monarchs that migrate across this milkweed-rich region twice a year! To utilize that toxin-laden plant as a protective nursery host to creatures immune to those poisons is science fiction on steroids. 

Double the amazement with the fact those chemicals accumulate and repurpose themselves in brilliant orange wings so predators know to avoid these pollinators. 

Design by the Master’s hand dazzles me every time I discover it. Here’s hope for even more milkweed seeds following this year’s planting.

<figure>
 <img src="https://media.eaglewebservices.com/public/2025/9/1758897960534.jpeg" alt="Milkweed. Courtesy photo" />
 <figcaption>Milkweed. Courtesy photo</figcaption>
 </figure>By KAREN MADORINSince spring, I’ve eyeballed milkweed plants growing in road ditches. Every time I spied one, I’d think of monarch butterflies searching for meals and nurseries to incubate eggs and nourish larvae. Eventually, I intended to harvest and plant seed pods to encourage more monarchs to flit amongst our flowers. Glory be, I remembered and now celebrate a bowl full of exploding milkweed fibers and seeds.Nature and its symbiotic relationships fascinate me, none more than the one between monarch butterflies and the milkweed that graces prairies, roadsides, and open pastures across the mid-United States. Surprisingly, these 2- to 4-foot-tall perennials with globe-shaped leaves and pretty flowers manufacture toxins that drive most critters away. The monarch, however, evolved to utilize those chemicals as food and then internalize them to make themselves undesirable to prey.For monarchs from the Rockies east, it starts with migration from mountains in Mexico as far as Canada each spring. Along that route, milkweed supports them with pinkish to lavender blooms and offers host plants where they lay pale, miniscule eggs on the underside of those round leaves.Within days, those eggs hatch and scores of a favorite childhood literary character, "The Very Hungry Caterpillar", emerge. These bottomless pits eat only milkweed leaves. Due to a DNA mutation, their systems detoxify poisonous chemicals unique to this plant. Over an approximate two-week span, they eat, mature, and molt repeatedly, their colors continually intensifying. All this while they reprocess chemicals that will protect their butterfly incarnation. I plan to watch from a front row seat once my seeds develop enough to support this monarch stage of life.Once a caterpillar achieves full size, it attaches to an object and forms a chrysalis. Inside that protective shell, miracles evolve in 10 to 14 days. The one-time caterpillar cells reconstitute themselves into a stunning black, orange, and white adult monarch toxic to prey.<figure>
 <img src="https://media.eaglewebservices.com/public/2025/9/1758898118238.jpeg" alt="Monarch butterfly. Courtesy photo" />
 <figcaption>Monarch butterfly. Courtesy photo</figcaption>
 </figure>Once wings harden so butterflies can flutter, these summer visitors flit from blossom to blossom feeding on nectar while pollinating plants. Though butterflies nourish themselves with various blooms, milkweed remains essential to monarch survival as a nursery host plant for egg laying, caterpillar food, and creating toxic wings.Nature’s design astounds me. Milkweed with its known cardiac glycosides is monarch larvae’s only food. During their development, that potent chemical cocktail collects in striped, pillowy caterpillar bodies—later becoming part and parcel of designer orange, black, and white wings as well as butterfly heads, thoraxes, and abdomens. When creatures up the food chain consume a monarch, they suffer anything from diarrhea to cardiac arrest. In the animal kingdom, devouring orange-winged insects is a no-no. Some species like the Viceroy evolved to mimic this protective coloring.What a spectacular symbiotic match between a unique plant with exploding seed pods to monarchs that migrate across this milkweed-rich region twice a year! To utilize that toxin-laden plant as a protective nursery host to creatures immune to those poisons is science fiction on steroids. Double the amazement with the fact those chemicals accumulate and repurpose themselves in brilliant orange wings so predators know to avoid these pollinators. Design by the Master’s hand dazzles me every time I discover it. Here’s hope for even more milkweed seeds following this year’s planting.Karen Madorin is a retired teacher, writer, photographer, outdoors lover, and sixth-generation Kansan.

MADORIN: Seeding hope for monarchs

Nobody told me when I married a game warden that a pelican might take up temporary residence in my children’s wading pool. 

Nor did I realize my two tiny daughters and I would spend a couple of days throwing hooks and lines off a bridge over Big Creek catching enough fish to satisfy that visitor’s insatiable appetite. On the other hand, that eating machine never expected to vacation at our house, either.

This event occurred in the late '80s. City workers called to explain an injured pelican was devouring gold fish in the power plant pond as they spoke to me.

Eviction was necessary. Every kid in town, little and big, loved that rock pool where they tossed breadcrumbs and oatmeal to feed surfacing swirls of orange and white. Even nourishing something so exotic as a pelican was no reason to sacrifice the fishpond population.

While my husband already knew about pelican beaks, the girls and I learned swiftly to stay out of range of that weapon/lunch sack. Mr. P wasn’t happy about this forced removal and intimidated us with snapping jaws. It wasn’t worth risking hand or fingers to save frantic gold fish.

I distracted the big bird while my brave partner snuck behind to slide a huge rubber band around that slashing defense mechanism. Once we disabled it, we noticed a broken wing drove the creature to the city water hole to dine. Who knows how far the crippled bird walked to fill its belly. We swaddled it in an old blanket and hauled it home to figure out a plan.

Four decades ago, cell phones and instant communication were a thing of future, and the Wildlife and Parks rehabilitator wasn’t answering the phone. This forced us to brainstorm a strategy for the visitor our daughters named "LA Looks" for the spiky top notch on it crown.

The girls volunteered their little blue wading pool to house our guest and their services as fisherwomen. Each had a Mickey Mouse pole they cast off the nearby wooden bridge. It seemed workable, so their dad left us baiting hooks as he drove off on patrol.

After catching a few palm-size fish, our youngsters released them into Mr. Looks’ temporary abode. My husband had unbound its beak so it snarfed our meager contribution. In disbelief, we marveled at how swiftly he scooped our catch and how his pouch expanded once full of flopping protein. Once our contribution slid down his gullet, it shrank to its previous size.

The hungry critter searched for more food. Those little perch didn’t satisfy his hunger, so girls and I returned to the creek, where we filled a stringer. Once again, his response dazzled us.

It occurred to me there was no way the human part of this equation could match the pelican’s gustatory requirements so I visited the IGA fish department. All the way there, I wondered what it would cost to board this fellow until he went to the rehabilitator. I prayed my budget stretched as big as his pouch if he stayed more than a day.

Along with fish the girls and I caught, we supplemented LA’s diet with frozen whitefish. These codcicles confused him at first, but he eventually swallowed them along with live fish.

While I’d never want to feed a pelican week after week, hosting one temporarily was delightful. We happily learned LA Looks survived surgery and would entertain nearby zoo patrons with how many fish he could stash in his pouch.

<figure>
 <img src="https://media.eaglewebservices.com/public/2025/9/1758730218088.jpeg" alt="Pelican. Courtesy photo" />
 <figcaption>Pelican. Courtesy photo</figcaption>
 </figure>By KAREN MADORINNobody told me when I married a game warden that a pelican might take up temporary residence in my children’s wading pool. Nor did I realize my two tiny daughters and I would spend a couple of days throwing hooks and lines off a bridge over Big Creek catching enough fish to satisfy that visitor’s insatiable appetite. On the other hand, that eating machine never expected to vacation at our house, either.This event occurred in the late '80s. City workers called to explain an injured pelican was devouring gold fish in the power plant pond as they spoke to me.Eviction was necessary. Every kid in town, little and big, loved that rock pool where they tossed breadcrumbs and oatmeal to feed surfacing swirls of orange and white. Even nourishing something so exotic as a pelican was no reason to sacrifice the fishpond population.While my husband already knew about pelican beaks, the girls and I learned swiftly to stay out of range of that weapon/lunch sack. Mr. P wasn’t happy about this forced removal and intimidated us with snapping jaws. It wasn’t worth risking hand or fingers to save frantic gold fish.I distracted the big bird while my brave partner snuck behind to slide a huge rubber band around that slashing defense mechanism. Once we disabled it, we noticed a broken wing drove the creature to the city water hole to dine. Who knows how far the crippled bird walked to fill its belly. We swaddled it in an old blanket and hauled it home to figure out a plan.Four decades ago, cell phones and instant communication were a thing of future, and the Wildlife and Parks rehabilitator wasn’t answering the phone. This forced us to brainstorm a strategy for the visitor our daughters named "LA Looks" for the spiky top notch on it crown.The girls volunteered their little blue wading pool to house our guest and their services as fisherwomen. Each had a Mickey Mouse pole they cast off the nearby wooden bridge. It seemed workable, so their dad left us baiting hooks as he drove off on patrol.After catching a few palm-size fish, our youngsters released them into Mr. Looks’ temporary abode. My husband had unbound its beak so it snarfed our meager contribution. In disbelief, we marveled at how swiftly he scooped our catch and how his pouch expanded once full of flopping protein. Once our contribution slid down his gullet, it shrank to its previous size.The hungry critter searched for more food. Those little perch didn’t satisfy his hunger, so girls and I returned to the creek, where we filled a stringer. Once again, his response dazzled us.It occurred to me there was no way the human part of this equation could match the pelican’s gustatory requirements so I visited the IGA fish department. All the way there, I wondered what it would cost to board this fellow until he went to the rehabilitator. I prayed my budget stretched as big as his pouch if he stayed more than a day.Along with fish the girls and I caught, we supplemented LA’s diet with frozen whitefish. These codcicles confused him at first, but he eventually swallowed them along with live fish.While I’d never want to feed a pelican week after week, hosting one temporarily was delightful. We happily learned LA Looks survived surgery and would entertain nearby zoo patrons with how many fish he could stash in his pouch.Karen Madorin is a retired teacher, writer, photographer, outdoors lover, and sixth-generation Kansan.

MADORIN:  A pelican in the wading pool

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By STEVE GILLILAND My annual day spent helping at the Kansas Fur Harvesters booth at the Kansas State Fair, showed me once again that there are great life lessons to be learned at the fair.

For example, knee-high socks of any color, but especially black, DO NOT go with shorts. If you’re not ready to purchase the last mop, set of cookware or garden-hose nozzle you’ll ever need, DO NOT go through the vender’s buildings, and if your hair doesn’t need fixing or your tennis shoes or glasses need cleaning, avoid the afore mentioned buildings also.

And where else but the state fair can you find racing pigs, campers costing more than my house, a guy selling Ecuadorian pan flutes, a chain saw sculpture, hot tubs, mattresses and water softeners all within a stone’s throw of each other. 

Beneath the grandstand, you’ll find sewing machines sold next to a Chinese massager parlor, and more yard art than you can imagine, including metal sunflowers, tornados fashioned from barbed-wire, dogs made from railroad spikes, frogs made from rebar and bugs built from assorted nuts and bolts with toilet tank floats for abdomens. 

Then on to the dark and forbidden midway, aptly named because its “midway” between you and your wallet, where shadowy hucksters await behind every tent flap. Here you can throw balls or bat balls, throw darts or throw rings, shoot rifles or shoot baskets, to win anything from framed pictures of Dale Earnhardt and Sponge Bob, to a three-foot stuffed Garfield or a huge inflatable dolphin. 

And of course, there is the absolute plethora of fair food, where you can find anything imaginable deep fried and/or put on a stick.

A great piece of advice from Jeff Foxworthy is “If you’re going somewhere alone, don’t wear a T-shirt that says “I’m Here with Stupid.” I love reading T-shirts people are wearing and boy-howdy, there’s no better place to do that than at a state fair. 

Here, in no particular order, are my favorite T shirt captions seen at this year’s state fair:

The Only Thing that Should Come Between a Hunter and His Meat is Bread 9 out of 10 Bears Surveyed Prefer Campers over S’mores I Believe Every Form of Wildlife has its Place; Right Next to the Mashed Potatoes and Gravy You’ve Read My T-Shirt; That’s Enough Social Interaction for Today I Love My Country, it’s My Government that Scares Me Your Political Correctness Offends Me (This appeared with a picture of a Harley chopper motorcycle ridden by a skeleton and is possibly my favorite.) Sons of Arthritis, Ibuprofen Chapter WORN BY ADULTS WHO PROBABLY ALWAYS SAY WHAT THE REST OF US ARE THINKING: “Your IQ test came back negative” “I have multiple personalities and none of them like you” JUST FLAT-OUT FUNNY ONES: “I don’t suffer from stress, I’m a carrier” “My take home pay doesn’t take me home” “I have the right to remain silent; I just don’t have the ability” “I’m not a complete idiot; Some parts are missing” (Written below the picture of a fish skeleton)- “Proud member of the Fillet-and-Release Club” (written below a picture of a running whitetail buck) – “Eat more fast food"

As you’re reading this another Kansas State fair has come and gone, and along with it the smells, both good and bad, the horrendous traffic and the sea of humanity that floods Hutchinson this time each year. 

Yup, there’s no better entertainment for this country boy than the state fair — fond memories, life lessons learned, fine dining and new fashion statements. 

<figure>
 <img src="https://media.eaglewebservices.com/public/2019/11/1574696211722.png" alt="Steve Gilliland. Courtesy photo" />
 <figcaption>Steve Gilliland. Courtesy photo</figcaption>
 </figure>By STEVE GILLILAND My annual day spent helping at the Kansas Fur Harvesters booth at the Kansas State Fair, showed me once again that there are great life lessons to be learned at the fair. For example, knee-high socks of any color, but especially black, DO NOT go with shorts. If you’re not ready to purchase the last mop, set of cookware or garden-hose nozzle you’ll ever need, DO NOT go through the vender’s buildings, and if your hair doesn’t need fixing or your tennis shoes or glasses need cleaning, avoid the afore mentioned buildings also.And where else but the state fair can you find racing pigs, campers costing more than my house, a guy selling Ecuadorian pan flutes, a chain saw sculpture, hot tubs, mattresses and water softeners all within a stone’s throw of each other. Beneath the grandstand, you’ll find sewing machines sold next to a Chinese massager parlor, and more yard art than you can imagine, including metal sunflowers, tornados fashioned from barbed-wire, dogs made from railroad spikes, frogs made from rebar and bugs built from assorted nuts and bolts with toilet tank floats for abdomens. Then on to the dark and forbidden midway, aptly named because its “midway” between you and your wallet, where shadowy hucksters await behind every tent flap. Here you can throw balls or bat balls, throw darts or throw rings, shoot rifles or shoot baskets, to win anything from framed pictures of Dale Earnhardt and Sponge Bob, to a three-foot stuffed Garfield or a huge inflatable dolphin. And of course, there is the absolute plethora of fair food, where you can find anything imaginable deep fried and/or put on a stick.A great piece of advice from Jeff Foxworthy is “If you’re going somewhere alone, don’t wear a T-shirt that says “I’m Here with Stupid.” I love reading T-shirts people are wearing and boy-howdy, there’s no better place to do that than at a state fair. Here, in no particular order, are my favorite T shirt captions seen at this year’s state fair:The Only Thing that Should Come Between a Hunter and His Meat is Bread 9 out of 10 Bears Surveyed Prefer Campers over S’mores I Believe Every Form of Wildlife has its Place; Right Next to the Mashed Potatoes and Gravy You’ve Read My T-Shirt; That’s Enough Social Interaction for Today I Love My Country, it’s My Government that Scares Me Your Political Correctness Offends Me (This appeared with a picture of a Harley chopper motorcycle ridden by a skeleton and is possibly my favorite.) Sons of Arthritis, Ibuprofen Chapter WORN BY ADULTS WHO PROBABLY ALWAYS SAY WHAT THE REST OF US ARE THINKING: “Your IQ test came back negative” “I have multiple personalities and none of them like you” JUST FLAT-OUT FUNNY ONES: “I don’t suffer from stress, I’m a carrier” “My take home pay doesn’t take me home” “I have the right to remain silent; I just don’t have the ability” “I’m not a complete idiot; Some parts are missing” (Written below the picture of a fish skeleton)- “Proud member of the Fillet-and-Release Club” (written below a picture of a running whitetail buck) – “Eat more fast food"As you’re reading this another Kansas State fair has come and gone, and along with it the smells, both good and bad, the horrendous traffic and the sea of humanity that floods Hutchinson this time each year. Yup, there’s no better entertainment for this country boy than the state fair — fond memories, life lessons learned, fine dining and new fashion statements. Continue to Explore Kansas Outdoors!Steve can be contacted by email at stevenrgilliland@gmail.com.

Explore Kansas Outdoors: A Fair Assumption

By MICHAEL A. SMITH Insight Kansas

When Kansas Congresswoman Sharice Davids took office in 2019, her Missouri counterpart Emanuel Cleaver II offered to show her around.&nbsp; 

Apparently wanting to check any potential condescension by the older Cleaver, Davids–a former MMA fighter–responded by offering to show Cleaver how to break someone’s legs. The two Kansas City-area representatives have been friends ever since. Today, it is not legs, but districts being broken.

Following the lead of Texas–and the White House–the Missouri General Assembly just passed a map eliminating the Kansas City-area Fifth District represented by Cleaver, dissolving Kansas City into three, predominantly rural districts, all majority Republican. Voters may still get to have their say on the map, and numerous lawsuits have already been filed.

Two Republican candidates for governor–Jeff Colyer and Ty Masterson–have already come forward in favor of mid-decade redistricting here. The target would be Davids, the only Democrat in the state’s congressional delegation. She represents all of Johnson County, the southern half of Wyandotte County, and all of Miami, Anderson, and Franklin Counties. 

The addition of those three rural counties and removal of northern Wyandotte in 2022 appears to have been an attempt to make Davids’ Third District more Republican, but it did not work.&nbsp;&nbsp;

Davids’ base is in Johnson County.&nbsp; Once a Republican stronghold, JoCo has shifted blue, much like other suburban counties across the nation. Today, not only is JoCo one of the state’s only Democratic-leaning counties, it also avoided the national “red shift” from 2020 to 2024. Kamala Harris’ winning margin there was even higher than Joe Biden’s was, four years earlier.

Any successful redistricting to produce a 4-0 Republican map must break up Johnson County, where it will meet fierce resistance. The Overland Park Chamber of Commerce has already come out against it. 

The map would have to be egregiously gerrymandered, not unlike the new Missouri map, which splits Kansas City along Troost Avenue, the city’s notorious, racial dividing line. In JoCo, the Democrats’ base lies mostly in the older, closer-in suburbs along the borders with Missouri and with Wyandotte County - the interior of the current district.

 A mid-decade gerrymander would have to reach deep into the heart of the county, moving those precincts to a district which wraps around other districts and extends for many miles into Republican-voting, rural parts of the state.

Kansas does not have the same provisions for citizen referenda as Missouri, so putting the law on the ballot for voters to reject is not an option here. However, court challenges would be filed immediately.

The Missouri Fifth is (or was) a minority influence district, where African-Americans do not constitute a majority, but they do have certain legal protections under the Voting Rights Act, upheld by key court rulings.&nbsp; Likewise, Kansas’ Third District is its most diverse. Breaking it up may face scrutiny. 

Critics in Missouri also argue that the state constitution does not even&nbsp;allow&nbsp;mid-decade redistricting, and the same argument could be made here – in court, of course.&nbsp; 

Finally, many rural constituents may not&nbsp;want&nbsp;to share districts with their urban counterparts, fearing a dilution of rural influence in Congress.

Given all the drama that continues to unfold along the state line, Kansans may end up deciding that after all is said and done, mid-decade redistricting just isn’t worth the trouble.&nbsp;

Michael Smith is a professor of political science at Emporia State University.

<figure>
 <img src="https://media.eaglewebservices.com/public/2025/7/1751494323778.jpeg" alt="Michael Smith. Courtesy photo" />
 <figcaption>Michael Smith. Courtesy photo</figcaption>
 </figure>By MICHAEL A. SMITH Insight Kansas When Kansas Congresswoman Sharice Davids took office in 2019, her Missouri counterpart Emanuel Cleaver II offered to show her around.&nbsp; Apparently wanting to check any potential condescension by the older Cleaver, Davids–a former MMA fighter–responded by offering to show Cleaver how to break someone’s legs. The two Kansas City-area representatives have been friends ever since. Today, it is not legs, but districts being broken.Following the lead of Texas–and the White House–the Missouri General Assembly just passed a map eliminating the Kansas City-area Fifth District represented by Cleaver, dissolving Kansas City into three, predominantly rural districts, all majority Republican. Voters may still get to have their say on the map, and numerous lawsuits have already been filed.Could it happen in Kansas?Two Republican candidates for governor–Jeff Colyer and Ty Masterson–have already come forward in favor of mid-decade redistricting here. The target would be Davids, the only Democrat in the state’s congressional delegation. She represents all of Johnson County, the southern half of Wyandotte County, and all of Miami, Anderson, and Franklin Counties. The addition of those three rural counties and removal of northern Wyandotte in 2022 appears to have been an attempt to make Davids’ Third District more Republican, but it did not work.&nbsp;&nbsp;Davids’ base is in Johnson County.&nbsp; Once a Republican stronghold, JoCo has shifted blue, much like other suburban counties across the nation. Today, not only is JoCo one of the state’s only Democratic-leaning counties, it also avoided the national “red shift” from 2020 to 2024. Kamala Harris’ winning margin there was even higher than Joe Biden’s was, four years earlier.Any successful redistricting to produce a 4-0 Republican map must break up Johnson County, where it will meet fierce resistance. The Overland Park Chamber of Commerce has already come out against it. The map would have to be egregiously gerrymandered, not unlike the new Missouri map, which splits Kansas City along Troost Avenue, the city’s notorious, racial dividing line. In JoCo, the Democrats’ base lies mostly in the older, closer-in suburbs along the borders with Missouri and with Wyandotte County - the interior of the current district. A mid-decade gerrymander would have to reach deep into the heart of the county, moving those precincts to a district which wraps around other districts and extends for many miles into Republican-voting, rural parts of the state.Kansas does not have the same provisions for citizen referenda as Missouri, so putting the law on the ballot for voters to reject is not an option here. However, court challenges would be filed immediately.The Missouri Fifth is (or was) a minority influence district, where African-Americans do not constitute a majority, but they do have certain legal protections under the Voting Rights Act, upheld by key court rulings.&nbsp; Likewise, Kansas’ Third District is its most diverse. Breaking it up may face scrutiny. Critics in Missouri also argue that the state constitution does not even&nbsp;allow&nbsp;mid-decade redistricting, and the same argument could be made here – in court, of course.&nbsp; Finally, many rural constituents may not&nbsp;want&nbsp;to share districts with their urban counterparts, fearing a dilution of rural influence in Congress.Given all the drama that continues to unfold along the state line, Kansans may end up deciding that after all is said and done, mid-decade redistricting just isn’t worth the trouble.&nbsp;Michael Smith is a professor of political science at Emporia State University.

Insight Kansas: What would mid-decade redistricting look like in Kansas?

When it comes to eating habits, raccoons are a lot like teenage boys; they’ll eat anything that smells good, and a lot of things that don’t.

 Common home-grown coon’ baits are marshmallows, jelly beans, peanut butter, barbeque sauce, maple syrup and cream corn. 

There are people raking in the dough selling custom baked pet treats, so a couple years ago, after the Kansas Fur Harvesters convention, I opened the Gilliland Coon’ Bait Test Kitchen, intent on dazzling the trapping world with my coon bait creations.

First order of business was to put on my lab coat and hair and beard net. My brother once ran the R&amp;D department at a brand name dog food plant and had to wear hair and beard nets to guard against getting hair in the dog food, so I thought it only right that I guard against hair in my raccoon bait!

 I needed some early success, so for my first creation I used a jar of product I bought at that year’s trapper’s convention. The jar contained all the flavors and smells the seller used in his raccoon bait; you merely added the jar contents to one pound of dog or cat food. I marched into my woodworking shop-turned-test-kitchen with a bag of Wal-Mart’s cheapest cat food under my arm. 

In a monstrous zip lock bag, I mixed the cat food and the powder in the jar, which smelled sweet and yummy like butterscotch. The whole shop (I mean test kitchen) smelled like butterscotch for three days. It’s good I’m not a sleep walker; I probably would have awakened late that night and found myself eating a bowl of it with milk.

For my second creation I wanted to try a recipe I found on the all-wise, all-knowing internet. 

The base for this recipe was commercial pond fish food. I poured the commercial fish food into a one-gallon ice cream bucket which I placed on the step going into the garage. When I returned a while later, there sat an empty ice cream bucket on the step. It suddenly dawned on me that the bucket was exactly like the one that held the dog food in the pantry for our two small dogs. My wife saw the bucket of fish food on the step, thought it was nice of me to refill it and promptly fed the dogs a bowl of commercial pond fish food! 

No harm done, the ingredients are probably not much different than those in dog food anyway, but then, not only do the dogs love to get a bath, I had to chase them around the sink as they keep swimming away from me!

With a zip lock bag of the fish food and various other ingredients, I entered the SATELLITE test kitchen, aka my wife’s real kitchen. 

This was still a test, so I used just a small amount of the fish pellets, then added mini-marshmallows, molasses and vanilla according to the recipe. I mixed it all together and sealed the bag. It promptly turned to a glob of goo that smelled like my grandmother's ginger cookies times ten, but looked like it had already been eaten once. In my defense, at least it was a palatable kitchen-y smell and didn’t reek of rotten eggs or dirty gym socks like many trapping baits.

<figure>
 <img src="https://media.eaglewebservices.com/public/2019/11/1574696211722.png" alt="Steve Gilliland. Courtesy photo" />
 <figcaption>Steve Gilliland. Courtesy photo</figcaption>
 </figure>By STEVE GILLILAND Explore Kansas OutdoorsWhen it comes to eating habits, raccoons are a lot like teenage boys; they’ll eat anything that smells good, and a lot of things that don’t. Common home-grown coon’ baits are marshmallows, jelly beans, peanut butter, barbeque sauce, maple syrup and cream corn. There are people raking in the dough selling custom baked pet treats, so a couple years ago, after the Kansas Fur Harvesters convention, I opened the Gilliland Coon’ Bait Test Kitchen, intent on dazzling the trapping world with my coon bait creations.First order of business was to put on my lab coat and hair and beard net. My brother once ran the R&amp;D department at a brand name dog food plant and had to wear hair and beard nets to guard against getting hair in the dog food, so I thought it only right that I guard against hair in my raccoon bait! I needed some early success, so for my first creation I used a jar of product I bought at that year’s trapper’s convention. The jar contained all the flavors and smells the seller used in his raccoon bait; you merely added the jar contents to one pound of dog or cat food. I marched into my woodworking shop-turned-test-kitchen with a bag of Wal-Mart’s cheapest cat food under my arm. In a monstrous zip lock bag, I mixed the cat food and the powder in the jar, which smelled sweet and yummy like butterscotch. The whole shop (I mean test kitchen) smelled like butterscotch for three days. It’s good I’m not a sleep walker; I probably would have awakened late that night and found myself eating a bowl of it with milk.For my second creation I wanted to try a recipe I found on the all-wise, all-knowing internet. The base for this recipe was commercial pond fish food. I poured the commercial fish food into a one-gallon ice cream bucket which I placed on the step going into the garage. When I returned a while later, there sat an empty ice cream bucket on the step. It suddenly dawned on me that the bucket was exactly like the one that held the dog food in the pantry for our two small dogs. My wife saw the bucket of fish food on the step, thought it was nice of me to refill it and promptly fed the dogs a bowl of commercial pond fish food! No harm done, the ingredients are probably not much different than those in dog food anyway, but then, not only do the dogs love to get a bath, I had to chase them around the sink as they keep swimming away from me!With a zip lock bag of the fish food and various other ingredients, I entered the SATELLITE test kitchen, aka my wife’s real kitchen. This was still a test, so I used just a small amount of the fish pellets, then added mini-marshmallows, molasses and vanilla according to the recipe. I mixed it all together and sealed the bag. It promptly turned to a glob of goo that smelled like my grandmother's ginger cookies times ten, but looked like it had already been eaten once. In my defense, at least it was a palatable kitchen-y smell and didn’t reek of rotten eggs or dirty gym socks like many trapping baits.I let the concoction marinate for a few days, then decided it was not exactly what a finicky, man-of-the-world raccoon might want to smear all over his face, so I found a bulk food store and came home with butterscotch oil, peppermint oil and anise oil, all of which, by the way are oft-used ingredients in commercially made raccoon bait.Anise oil smells like black licorice and I decided to play with it first. I opened the jar of the afore-mentioned gingerbread smelling goo and tore off a softball sized chunk, put it into its own container and&nbsp;began adding the anise.&nbsp;My drum beats to the tune that “more is always better,” so I dumped every last drop from the three tiny bottles into the goo and mixed it as best I could. It was soft and pliable all right but mixing it was like trying to stir something into a volley ball. When I finished, it smelled like an explosion at a black licorice factory, but looked like a bowl of cow brains.Next was the butterscotch oil. I only had two little bottles of it, so again I ripped off a chunk of the gingerbread goo and added the oil. It actually smelled yummy like a combination of grandma’s cookies and Werther’s candies, but looked no different than the first.Last but not least was the peppermint oil. Again, I pried off a chunk of the goo and added the peppermint. I intentionally took a big whiff of the oils before adding them to the mix, and the peppermint was the sharpest of the three. It was sweet like peppermint, but almost overpowering. When finally mixed, this last attempt smelled like wonderful sweet wedding mints, but still looked like cow brains.I’m embarrassed to say that the test kitchen experiments that year were the highlight of the project. The only catch made with my experimental offerings were a few possums; understandable I guess, using bait that looks like cow brains. Anyway, it all made for a good story and taught me a lesson………No, it didn’t; I’m sure I’ll try it again some year! Continue to Explore Kansas Outdoors!Steve can be contacted by email at stevenrgilliland@gmail.com.

Opinion