Word: cottonwood
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...with both hands, up and down the corn rows the farmers went as fast as they could go, each well-trained team of horses leading in front without direction, each tough cornstalk a fight. After 80 min. a gun boomed. Swiftly the judges weighed the yield. Ray Hanson of Cottonwood County, Minn, had the biggest load but he did not win. Competitive cornhusking has its intricacies. For every pound of marketable corn that the gleaners find left in the field the husker is penalized three pounds, for every ounce over five ounces of silks and shucks...
...describing his trip from Pasadena, "we arrived by motor at our first camp from which our actual expedition was to set out. Early the next morning we left the car and with an excellent packer-guide, saddle horses, and two pack mules, we continued up the narrow canyon of Cottonwood Creek, a roaring mountain torrent heading in numerous lakes under Mt. Langley. The trail wound steeply up between pine trees and rocks for nine miles, when we emerged from the canyon onto a sloping plateau at about 10,000 feet elevation, where the stream ran gently through pine forests...
...went back from Rock Creek by another trail, south of our entrance, crossed a high interstream divide, called Siberian Pass, down to Whitney Meadows at the head of Golden Trout Creek, over the crest at Cottonwood Pass, down a tributary to Cottonwood Canyon, and so to our first camp, a circuit of about 100 miles in six days. The next day, we started at 5 o'clock. Deducting the time taken or towing a disabled car from the mountain road, and for breakfast, we made the 217 miles in seven and one-half hours. This time prompts a comparison between...
Through the long afternoons, they tossed the ball about as only professionals can in spring practice. Small boys seated on neighboring fences , emitted jeering sounds as the famed leaguers juggled, fumbled, panted, struck out. The weeks went by. Mockingbirds sang sweet in the cottonwood trees. The players could hear, in the evening, the strumming of banjo-strings, the warm, drowsy voices of the darkies singing Old Black Joe or perhaps Dem Golden Slippers in the hotel palm room. The jeers of the small boys changed to cries of "Bravo!" For now a different drama was daily to be seen...