Assault on the Alibates by Katherine Kelly I was a writer on a mission—an assignment from a major regional magazine. Assignment does not translate to acceptance; the writing still has to hold up, the editor’s specifications must be met. Part of the research would be easy—read some books, look on the web, visit a local archaeological dig, interview a few people. The tough part would the physical effort when I would hike to the top of a bluff overlooking a river in the Texas Panhandle.

     It would be an arduous trip. A narrow path covered in loose rocks, during October, when the weather can turn on a dime. Clearly I would need help. I turned to a book a friend had recently recommended, A Walk in the Woods by Bill Byson, about his adventures on the Appalachian Trail. I was really in trouble now—bears and snakes and flies, oh my.

     Sounds good, doesn’t it? The truth is, the trip I was to take should be a snap for anybody. School children take this hike for heaven’s sake. But for a writer getting long in the tooth and whose idea of a difficult trek is anything more than a trip from the computer to the coffee pot and back, it was daunting. After reading Byson’s book, I decided I needed to bring things a little closer to reality and re-read Charlotte Anne Smith’s article, “Hiking Can Be Enjoyable at Any Age” (Oklahoma Living, June 2006).

     I would be taking a tour of Alibates Flint Quarries National Monument near Fritch in the Texas Panhandle. I checked off items on the hiking list. I did own a pair of hiking shoes, but couldn’t remember the last time I wore them. I pulled them on and walked half a mile into the cotton field. The right shoe ate my sock on the way up, the left on the way back. Note to self: wear heavier socks. Sunscreen, water, snacks, insect repellent, two cameras, binoculars, windbreaker and hat, walking stick, cell phone, pen and notebook. Everything for two since my husband (who had just turned 70) would join me on the trip. With no backpack, how would I carry all this stuff? I loaded up my Red Cross soft-sided satchel with the comfortable strap, put on heavier socks and headed out again. This could work.

     I wasn’t going into the wilderness. This would be a National Monument with a guide and a well formed trail leading to the quarries on the bluff of a hill overlooking the Canadian River valley where many native peoples had mined the beautiful multi-colored stone as early as 12,000 years ago. Still, it was uphill, and when I spoke with the (much younger) lady at the park office and she told me she gets winded every time she makes the trip, my mind was not eased.

     We had a one day weather-window. Rain the week before had delayed our trip and rain was forecast for every day except one. We left home in the darkness. As we pulled onto the highway, I was struck by how welcoming are the lights of community in a cold grey dawn.

     The morning was cold, but it warmed up quickly. We stopped and visited the museum in Canyon, Texas and spoke with the chief curator of archeology artifacts. I am constantly gratified by the willingness of others to assist a writer in researching a project. We had a leisurely lunch then drove out to the park site. Our guide was happy to see us and informed us that we would be joined by another couple. A lady from New Hampshire pulled into the parking lot. She had just learned she needed an appointment for a tour, and was delighted when I told her we had a tour planned and would be leaving shortly. The other couple, from Washington State, arrived and we drove to the trail head.

     The trail was indeed a moderate climb and since we were all in the same age range we didn’t hurry. We stopped often so our guide could tell us about the plant and animal life and the native peoples who had inhabited the region for thousands of years. The view from the top of the bluff was breathtaking. We took loads of photographs, then rested in the shade a few minutes before heading back down the trail. Even if the magazine didn’t use my photographs, the pictures would help my five senses recall that captured moment, and evoke forgotten sensations and feelings.

     Darkness had again engulfed us before we arrived home. The evening star and the lights of community welcomed us back. I thought of the inhabitants of the beautiful river valley and thought they must have felt much the same when they came upon their dwellings with the light from many fires welcoming them home at the end of the day.

     My email query to the magazine’s editor had begun with, “That colorful piece of flint you found after a dust storm might have come from the Alibates Flint Quarries National Monument.” I gave a brief description of my writing experience, then continued with, “Like many rural folks, we have a small collection of arrow heads and pieces of flint. I have a particular piece of flint I am planning to give someone as a gift, so I went online to find out more about flint in general, and stumbled across the web site of the Alibates Flint Quarries National Monument. I have lived on the plains most of my life and had never heard of the park. I figure if I’m interested in learning more about it then others might be as well.” I let her know we were planning a trip to the monument and asked if she would be interested in a 1200 word article on the trip, the flint, and the history. Nine days later, she responded that she was interested and gave me the focus she wanted me to take in writing the article. I received a contract in the mail a few days later.

     I first visited a local archeological dig. In its gift shop, I purchased two books for children giving a history of the area. I have found that books written for children often explain complicated subjects so well that I can quickly grasp the basics and follow up with detailed research in more complicated reference works if needed. I then became acquainted with the director of the site through email. I also emailed the curator of a museum near the Quarry, who later reviewed a draft of the article and corrected one piece of information. Both of these very busy professionals kindly gave me quotes which appeared in the printed article.

     I adhered to the writer’s guidelines and the terms of the contract, and completed the manuscript on deadline. The editor requested a moderate rewrite and some guidance on locating particular photographs, which I willing agreed to and promptly provided. I communicated by email with both the art director and a copyeditor. The art director wanted permission to publish a particular photograph she had seen in the brochures I sent to the magazine (requested in their guidelines). I gave her a few leads on where she might find that photograph or others which might do just as well. The copyeditor was fact-checking and thought he saw a discrepancy in my historical research. I made a phone call to an expert, followed up with an email, and received a reply which cleared up the matter and resulted in a quote.

     During your research, do not let yourself be intimidated about approaching professional sources. Remember that you are a professional, too, and always assume that others are going to be friendly and as helpful as they are able. If you are just beginning in the writing life, you may not feel like a professional yet. In that case, “act as though you are, and you will be.” The article was accepted and ran two months later. The largest payment I have received for a freelance story or article arrived in the mail shortly afterward. As I held it, I thought of all that was involved in earning it. The writing life—it’s the hardest work I do; it’s the most fun I have; it’s the best.

by Katherine Kelly