"Heaven on Earth" - An Outsider's Perspective

“Kansas is heaven on earth. It’s just that nobody knows it, which is precisely why it is heaven on earth,” he whispered with a wily grin, crow’s feet around his eyes. He sure had things figured out. It was obvious not only in what he said, but in the man’s easy demeanor, in his humor and contentedness. It all had me beat by a mile. A decade in Kansas has loosened me up some, but I have a lot of time to put in before I reach the Zen-like wisdom of Kansas farmers. In Lawrence, we live a close second to this philosophy because of our proximity to it. For instance, if you take 15th street east until the pavement turns to gravel, you’ll see the sign for Pendleton’s Country Market. Their famous asparagus is ready for picking by tax day. You can ride out to the field behind a tractor, but walking will enable you to put a penny down on the train rails. It’s likely you’ll hear the distant whistle of the Santa Fe and see it rumble by south of the field. While you’re picking, take a moment to look around, appreciate the landscape, the curvature of the earth. It’ll put things in perspective. Snap off a tender spear and crunch it between your teeth; taste how sweet asparagus is supposed to be. Remember to pick up your penny on the way back, Abe Lincoln stretched out like he was looking in a fun-house mirror.

Just south of town, Anthony and Kay Kugler run a vineyard producing award-winning wines that will please even the most discerning oenophilist. The Kuglers came to Kansas 23 years ago from Czechoslovakia, Anthony coming from a family of viticulturists. The Kansas climate is challenging for winemakers, but research and consultation with other Kansan vintners — like Greg Shipe of Davenport Winery — led to the creation of what Kay Kugler calls “the smallest winery on the prairie.”

Two-acres may be small, but their Cynthiana red is coveted by local aficionados. My favorite is a dry white made with Seyval grapes. I served the Seyval, along with Pendleton’s asparagus, to a friend who was very skeptical of Kansas wine. It was her birthright. She was born and raised in Campania, one of the few regions that makes Italian whites. After tasting it her response was, “This wine is made in Kansas?” I said, “Yes. Just south of town.” She said, “Give the address to Steve (her husband).”

Not too far from the Lawrence airport is Maggie’s Farm. Inside the corrugated-metal barn are nine ash-colored, woolly headed, long-haired sheep. Their big, dark-brown eyes will beckon you to scratch the soft locks on their heads. They’re as friendly as rabbits, not to mention that the dog, Maggie, is pretty friendly too. The sheep wear tarp-like coats to protect the fleece from the hay and barnyard debris, keeping the wool clean, soft and curly, like a meticulously groomed New York City poodle. Shearing goes on twice a year, in early October and late February. See them shear, clean and prepare raw fleece for the loom, then watch weavers — Barbara Clark and a few friends — create a shawl or a scarf.

Just west of Lawrence is Henrys’ Plant Farm where you’ll find an assortment of flowers, herbs and vegetable plants. Colorful peacocks strut around the grounds mewling to each other, driving the ducks, turkeys, roosters and other birds into delirium — especially the Chinese geese. They’re the white ones with the orange bulb on top of their beaks and the shrill bark that will require you to stuff a finger in each ear. Two lumbering Percheron draft horses might be a little intimidating for a young-on', but after I pet one my son smiled ear to ear, saying, "It's a nice horse, yeah?" He ran a handful of mane through his fingers and gently patted the horse’s neck. The potbellied pigs will greet you with a snort and a gurgle, their coarse black hair looking a little unnatural, like hair plugs in the scalps of balding men. There’s a treat-loving pig named Alfy who pressed his snout against the top of my hand, leaving a muddy kiss-like imprint and sending my young son into hysterics. Don’t forget to say hello to Nancy the emu, and to the Hereford bull who is sometimes mistaken for a bison, but only by the city folk.

After Thanksgiving, it’s fun to don the old quilted flannel and go for a walk at Prairie Elf Christmas Trees. Kathy Heeb starts trimming trees in June, so her 7 acres of White, Austrian and Scotch pines are perfectly sculpted. In fact, a big Scotch pine was selected for the governor’s mansion just last Christmas. A hayride through the trees will help you locate that eight-footer. They provide the saw, as well as some young strapping lads if need be. If you get a chill, help yourself to hot cider and cookies inside the warming hut. Out there the stars are reason enough to brave the cold — especially that time of year, when the night sky is crisp and sharp, and Orion is pulling on his bow.

Don’t leave Lawrence without browsing the delectables at our Farmers' Market where area farmers converge on every Saturday morning, as well as on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons. The open-air market is on the 1,000 block of Vermont street. Local fruits and vegetables, farm fresh eggs and cheeses, all kinds of meat and sweet treats, fresh and dried flowers and dry goods are sold by Kansas farmers and ranchers who meet there from mid-May through mid-November. You can still pick-your-own, just not right off the vine.

--Written by Primo Ventello for the 2005-06 Lawrence Visitor Guide