Legend has it that long ago, before the East met the West, the Pronghorn challenged The Mighty Wind to a race across the American West. As the story goes, the Wind roared, billowed, and hissed- determined to prove that no land animal could ever reign supreme. Yet with grace and finesse, the Pronghorn glided across the Great Basin, over the Rocky Mountains, through the High Plains, and down the Flint Hills, its hooves barely touching the earth. The race lasted a full day and night, but by the time the Wind had reached what would one day be Missouri, the Pronghorn was there waiting. To this day, when the wind whispers through the prairie, if you listen closely, you can hear the echoes of that legendary race.