Lavina, Montana

First timer?  In this formerly once-a-day blog (then every-other-day blog and now a one-to-three-times a week blog), I have my computer select a random latitude and longitude that puts me somewhere in the continental United States (the lower 48).  I call this “landing.”  I keep track of the watersheds I land in, as well as the town I land near.  I do some internet research to hopefully find something of interest about my landing location.  To find out more about A Landing A Day (like who “Dan” is and what the various numbers and abbreviations mean), please see “About Landing,” (and “Abbreviations” and “Cryptic Numbers”) above.

Dan -  I’m getting that sinking feeling now that I’ve slipped to 1/4 with this landing in that perennial OS favorite . . . MT: 113/93; 5/10; 3; 156.3.  Here’s my landing map, showing that I landed in the Musselshell R valley (locally known as “Golden Valley”), not far from the little town of Lavina:

Here’s a broader view:

My GE shot shows that I landed in a farm field that looks to be just outside of the more fertile lowlands adjacent to the river:

Obviously, I landed in the Musselshell R watershed (13^th hit); on to the Missouri (359^th hit); on to the MM (764^th hit).

Here’s a shot of the Musselshell between my landing and Lavina (from a real estate website I’ll discuss later):

From the Golden Valley County website, this about Lavina:

Named for a Sweetheart
by Margaret Lehfeldt and
Mary Morsanny

. . . About midway on the stage line [from Billings to Benton] there was the river that cut its age-old course through the trees and tall grass meadows of the wide Musselshell Valley. Where there was a good ford, [in 1882] T.C. Power [local pioneer] chose an ideal site for a station, and said “With Clate Warner and other hired help, we put up stage stables, mess house, bunk house for the men to sleep in, a store, and of course my saloon. That was the biggest business of them all.” Even though he was appointed as the first post master, he made the rounds of the stage line every month but none of the stations pleased him as much as the one on the south bank of the Musselshell.

In memory of a former sweetheart, Walter Burke named it Lavina.

As the Musselshell Valley settled up thick in the summer of 1882, the stage stop became known as Old Lavina and it was a hub of activity.
The bell tolled for Old Lavina when the surveyors chose a new town site a mile downstream in the wide bend of the Musselshell that had been the old Indian campground. A few months later on February 16, 1908, the first passenger train steamed past the old stage stop and pulled up to the depot in what was now New Lavina.

I’m a little confused about who Walter Burke is, and why he got to name the town after his former sweetheart.  I wonder if “former” refers to deceased, or if Lavina broke up with Walter, and he was so lovelorn that he named the town after her?

From the same website, here’s a picture of downtown Lavina, by William Lile.

Also from the County website, this about a fine old hotel in town:

The big white hotel, The Adams, was built in 1908.  It had twenty-two rooms including the huge dining room, lobby, kitchen, and bar. Upstairs, at the head of the stairs was a large parlor. It was probably the most elegant of its kind in the area, having pure linen sheets, down comforters, a decorated china bowl and pitcher in every one of the carpeted rooms. The Adams was known for its warm hospitality. This building remains as it was originally built with all of its grandeur, secrets and memories. The Adams is now owned as a private residence.

Here’s a StreetView shot of Main Street, showing the erstwhile Adams Hotel:

It just so happens that about one square mile (640 acres) of Musselshell R bottomland is for sale as “96 Ranch,” located between Lavina and my landing site.  Click here to learn more about this absolutely lovely property. I’ll close with some pictures of 96 Ranch that I’ve lifted from the realtor’s website:

What a great property.  Maybe I could retire here . . .

That’ll do it. . .

KS

Greg

© 2010 A Landing A Day

Hyannis, Nebraska

First timer?  In this formerly once-a-day blog (then every-other-day blog and now a one-to-three-times a week blog), I have my computer select a random latitude and longitude that puts me somewhere in the continental United States (the lower 48).  I call this “landing.”  I keep track of the watersheds I land in, as well as the town I land near.  I do some internet research to hopefully find something of interest about my landing location.  To find out more about A Landing A Day (like who “Dan” is and what the various numbers and abbreviations mean), please see “About Landing,” (and “Abbreviations” and “Cryptic Numbers”) above.

Dan -  I landed smack dab in the Heartland, which is dominated by OSers like this one . . . NE; 55/49; 5/10; 2; 155.9.  Here’s my landing map, showing my proximity to Hyannis:

Here’s a broader view:

Here’s my GE shot, which looks a little like two eyes and a mouth:

Here’s a broader GE view, which shows that the face is part of a very peculiar landscape:

The little stream near my landing flows to Alkali Lake, which has no outlet (i.e., an “internal” drainage landing).  Most internal watershed landings are associated with deserts.  But a few, like this one in the Sand Hills region of NE, are associated with vast (and very thick) sand deposits where the water soaks in rather than runs off.  Anyway, this line of thought led me to come up with the following list of states along with the number of Internal drainage landings they’ve had:

NV	63
CA	37
UT	37
NM	21
OR	15
AZ	9
TX	5
CO	4
NE	2
ID	2
ND	2
MT	1
KS	1
WY	1
Total	200

 

Anyway, moving right along, from Neb-SandHills.net about Hyannis:

Hyannis Nebraska was founded in 1887, by Anselmo B. Smith a civil engineer that worked for the railroad company.  He named the town for Hyannis, Massachusetts where he had grown up.

Wow.  What a contrast between Hyannis MA and Hyannis NE.  Jody and I have friends who live on Nantucket, so we’re good for one or two trips up there each year.  The ferry for Nantucket leaves from Hyannis, so we’re familiar with the town.  Obviously, it’s a waterfront community (with a scenic harbor).  As you might imagine, it certainly has its upscale side (keeping in mind that just up the coast a bit is the Kennedy compound).

Just for the heck of it, here’s a shot of the Hyannis Harbor:

Back to Neb-SandHills.net:

Hyannis, the county seat of Grant County, is located in the heart of the Nebraska Sandhills along the main line of the Burlington , Northern and Santa Fe Railroad. It is a thriving town with pioneer spirit and a deep sense of family values.

Hyannis has several businesses including repair shops, two banks, a grocery store, veterinary service, lumber yard, flower shop, a family doctor, and a newly remodeled hotel that was built in 1898. During the hotel’s early life, it was the ”Home Away from Home” for most of the cattlemen that came to town to ship their cattle to Omaha and St. Joesph, Missouri.

From the same website comes this photo of downtown Hyannis:

From RiverEarth.com (Traveling with Bernie Harberts), I found a Hyannis reference from a part of his website called “The Lost Sea Expedition”.  These are stories from one of Bernie’s trips – a mule voyage from Canada to Mexico.  More particularly, this picture (and associated words) came from a post entitled “Reptile Roadblocks.”  Here ‘tis:

Traveling across the Great Plains in my mule wagon various reptiles have held up progress.  Some days, a tortoise brings the Lost Sea Expedition wagon squeaking to a halt.

Tortoise road block
North of Hyannis, Nebraska

Bernie’s website is pretty cool.  As a geologist, I really appreciate the fact that he went on a “Lost Sea Expedition.”  Here, from the “About Bernie” section of his site, is a description of what he did:

“. . . A few years later, he struck off across American the other way – again by mule. In 2008 he and his mule Polly completed this 13-month a wagon voyage from Canada to Mexico. During this trek, he documented the marine fossils of Western Interior Seaway, the great inland sea that covered the Great Plains millions of years ago . . .”

Check out the Lost Sea Expedition (and the reptile roadblocks) by clicking here:

Back to Hyannis – here’s a picture (Panaramio by Mike Mcdonald) of a train east of Hyannis:

Also from Panaramio, this picture by “RoadMode ” of the sand hills near Hyannis:

I’ll close with this, entitled “Golden Morning” (taken east of Hyannis), by Craig Gaebel:

That’ll do it. . .

KS

Greg

© 2010 A Landing A Day

Sheffield, Texas

First timer?  In this formerly once-a-day blog (then every-other-day blog and now a one-to-three-times a week blog), I have my computer select a random latitude and longitude that puts me somewhere in the continental United States (the lower 48).  I call this “landing.”  I keep track of the watersheds I land in, as well as the town I land near.  I do some internet research to hopefully find something of interest about my landing location.  To find out more about A Landing A Day (like who “Dan” is and what the various numbers and abbreviations mean), please see “About Landing,” (and “Abbreviations” and “Cryptic Numbers”) above.

Dan -  I’m on a pretty good roll (5/7) with today’s landing (for the 2^nd time in 3 landings) in . . . TX; 138/170; 5/10; 1; 155.4.

Here’s my landing map, which shows that I landed out in the middle of nowhere:

I’m featuring Sheffield; but for the record, Sheffield (the closest town) is about 28 miles from my landing spot.

Here’s a broader view:

Here’s my GE shot, showing the emptiness (note the lack of roads):

I landed in the N Fk of the Independence Ck watershed, on to the Independence, on to the Pecos R (11^th hit); on to the Rio Grande (36^th hit).  Here’s a Street View shot of the N Fk of the Independence Ck (during the dry season):

Here’s a Panaramio shot of the Pecos R near Sheffield:

As one might expect, there are no GE StreetView photos near my landing.  However, I did check on I-10 where it crosses the Pecos not far from Sheffield:

The mighty Pecos ain’t so mighty . . .

I noticed some high quality Google Earth Street View shots.  Check out this shot from the bridge over the Pecos:

Here’s a reflection of the Googlemobile in the truck trailer:

Moving right along . . . from TexasEscapes, about Sheffield:

The Spanish explorer Gaspar de Sosa is said to have visited the area as early as 1590.

In 1849, the Army surveyed a road from San Antonio to El Paso and they included what is now Sheffield on their route because of the Pecos Spring and the Pecos River.

The first settler, a man named John Cannon moved into the area and bought the spring. Another early settler was Will Sheffield. He had a slight advantage in having the town named after him since he was the town’s first postmaster (1898).

Six years into the new century, Sheffield had all the amenities of a thriving town. The oil boom of the 20s changed the entire region – including Sheffield – permanently. Sheffield didn’t experience the type of lawlessness of other oil boom towns like Ranger, Kilgore, Mexia or Freer.

On the map, Sheffield is tucked into the smallest little cranny available in Pecos County like a spider in a huge room.

While I love the simile, it looks like a bit of a stretch to me, based on this map of Pecos County, with the location of Sheffield highlighted:

Back to TexasEscapes:

State Highway 290 is a loop that lets you know you’re not in East Texas (not that there’s anything wrong with being in East Texas). The road seems very nondescript until you suddenly come to an overlook. Here is where the elevation drops dramatically into the valley that once was the home for Fort Lancaster.

Here’s a picture taken from the overlook described above:

So, I see that Gaspar de Sosa was an early explorer.  From the Southwest Crossroads Spotlight website:

Gaspar Castaño de Sosa and His Expedition of 1590

In the late 1580s, Gaspar Castaño de Sosa was acting as alcalde (mayor) of the town of Almadén in New Spain (today’s Mexico). Discouraged by the unproductive mines there, de Sosa packed up most of the colony and set out on a difficult march to present-day northern New Mexico. His expedition consisted of 170 people, heavily laden carts, yokes of oxen, tools, and provisions.

Under the guidance of a young Indian named Miguel, Sosa’s colony marched north to the Rio Grande, the Pecos River and Pecos Pueblo.  Meanwhile, Sosa’s friend, Luis de Carvajal y de la Cueva, was accused of being a Jew and arrested by the Spanish Inquisition.

Carvajal’s trial cast suspicion on Castaño de Sosa. The king’s soldiers in New Spain pursued Castaño de Sosa to the north: he was charged with leading an unauthorized expedition into New Mexico and taken in chains back to New Spain. There he was tried, convicted, and exiled to the Philippines. Gaspar Castaño de Sosa’s sentence was appealed to the Council of the Indies and the decision was reversed, but it was too late. The Conquistador had been slain aboard a ship in the South China Sea during a slave insurrection.

Wow.  What a tough luck story.  The poor guy is accused of being the friend of a Jew – and that’s a crime???? -  and then he gets sent off to the Philippines.  What a letdown for a guy who was a leader of a 170-person expedition!  And then to be killed in a slave insurrection . . .

Here are some pictures of the Sheffield area.  First this of the ruins of Fort Lancaster, by Barclay Gibson from TexasEscapes:

I’ll close with this lovely shot of the same ruins (also from TexasEscapes), by Sarah Reveley.

That’ll do it. . .

KS

Greg

© 2010 A Landing A Day

Afton, Minnesota

First timer? In this formerly once-a-day blog (then every-other-day blog and now a one-to-three-times a week blog), I have my computer select a random latitude and longitude that puts me somewhere in the continental United States (the lower 48). I call this “landing.” I keep track of the watersheds I land in, as well as the town I land near. I do some internet research to hopefully find something of interest about my landing location. To find out more about A Landing A Day (like who “Dan” is and what the various numbers and abbreviations mean), please see “About Landing,” (and “Abbreviations” and “Cryptic Numbers”) above.

Dan – I guess four USers in a row is too much to hope for, so here’s a solid OSer . . . MN; 69/53; 4/10; 9; 156.0.  Here’s my landing map, showing my proximity to Afton and the St. Croix R.  Note that the St. Croix is the boundary between MN & WI. I’m not suffering angst about not landing in WI (it’s OSer, too):

Obviously, I landed in the St. Croix R watershed (4th hit); on to the MM (763rd hit). Here’s a pretty shot of the St. Croix near Afton:

Here’s a broader view, showing my proximity to the Twin Cities:

Here’s an even broader view:

My GE shot shows what looks like pretty ritzy properties – after all, this is only 15 miles east of St. Paul, well within commuting distance:

About Afton, from the Washington County Historical Society website:

Afton Township was first settled about 1837. According to many historical accounts, Mrs. C. S. Getchel gave Afton its name. The landscape reminded her of Robert Burns’ poem, “Afton Water,” with its “neighboring hills, and the winding rills.”

Afton’s first name, however, was Catfish Bar, alluding to a large sandbar in the St. Croix River that is still visible when water levels are low. In the days before bridges, or even ferryboats, Catfish Bar was a place where the river could be forded by cattle and horses.

Here’s a GE shot showing Afton and the “Catfish Bar,” jutting out from the opposite bank.  (The weird color change down the middle is because this is edge between two different aerial photos.)

So, here’s “Afton Water” by Robert Burns:

Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes, [braes = hills]

Flow gently, I’ll sing thee a song in thy praise;

My Mary’s asleep by thy murmuring stream,

Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream.

 

Thou stock-dove, whose echo resounds thro’ the glen, [stock dove = pigeon]

Ye wild whistling blackbirds in yon thorny den,

Thou green-crested lapwing, thy screaming forbear,

I charge you disturb not my slumbering fair.

 

How lofty, sweet Afton, thy neighbouring hills,

Far mark’d with the courses of clear winding rills;

There daily I wander as noon rises high,

My flocks and my Mary’s sweet cot in my eye.

 

How pleasant thy banks and green valleys below,

Where wild in the woodlands the primroses blow;

There oft, as mild Ev’ning sweeps over the lea,

The sweet-scented birk shades my Mary and me.

 

Thy crystal stream, Afton, how lovely it glides,

And winds by the cot where my Mary resides,

How wanton thy waters her snowy feet lave,

As gathering sweet flowrets she stems thy clear wave.

 

Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes,

Flow gently, sweet river, the theme of my lays; [lays = poetry]

My Mary’s asleep by thy murmuring stream,

Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream.

 

If reference to Robert Burns sounds familiar, it should.   My June 2010 Burns, Oregon post featured Robert Burns, for an obvious reason.

Anyway, here’s a nice shot of the St. Croix from Afton State Park:

I’ll close with this rainbow at the Park.

That’ll do it. . .

KS

Greg

© 2010 A Landing A Day

Pawnee, Texas

First timer?  In this formerly once-a-day blog (then every-other-day blog and now a one-to-three-times a week blog), I have my computer select a random latitude and longitude that puts me somewhere in the continental United States (the lower 48).  I call this “landing.”  I keep track of the watersheds I land in, as well as the town I land near.  I do some internet research to hopefully find something of interest about my landing location.  To find out more about A Landing A Day (like who “Dan” is and what the various numbers and abbreviations mean), please see “About Landing,” (and “Abbreviations” and “Cryptic Numbers”) above.

Dan -  I’m practically on a roll (4/5!) with a landing in that good ol’ #1 USer . . . TX; 137/170; 4/10; 8; 155.6.  Here’s my landing map, showing my proximity to Pawnee:

Here’s a broader view:

I landed in the watershed of Sulphur Ck (just my fourth watershed reference to “sulphur”); on to the Nueces R (11^th hit); on to the G of M.

Here’s my GE shot, showing what looks like some S TX scrub:

StreetView pictures are available from the N-S road just west of my landing.  Here’s a shot from the road looking east towards my landing:

So, the Texas State Historical Association has this to say about Pawnee:

PAWNEE, TEXAS. Pawnee was reportedly named for a board inscribed “Pawnee” and nailed to a tree by travelers; apparently arrowheads found in nearby Sulphur Creek suggested that Pawnee Indians had once used the area.

The first one-teacher Pawnee school was built in 1910, when it enrolled thirteen pupils. In 1925 Pawnee had four grocery stores, a doctor’s office, a drugstore, a cafe and meat market, a garage, and a blacksmith’s shop. Pawnee remained a small settlement until 1930, when oil was discovered nearby.

In 1936, as the community grew, a new eleven-grade brick school was completed. In 1941–42 Pawnee attained a population of 300, which supported thirteen businesses and five churches. A post office opened in 1949–50, when Pawnee had a population of 225 and nine businesses

The population was 249 in 1970. Between 1962 and 1979 most businesses closed. [Ouch.]  In 1989 Pawnee had a population of 249, two businesses, middle and high schools, and a post office. In 1990 the population was still reported as 249. By 2000 the population dropped to 201.

Also from the Historical Society, this about neighboring Whitsett:

When the railroad came through the county in 1913, the land for the town was donated by Taylor Whitsett and Walter Reiffert. Each wanted his name used for the town so Reiffert tossed a coin, and Whitsett called it and won.

Here are some miscellaneous local photos from TexasEscapes.com.  Here’s an old gas station in Pawnee (William Beauchamp):

Here’s a shot of the Pawnee post office, also from Mr. Beauchamp:

You have to love the bell at the Pawnee school:

I’ll close with this wonderful Neil Suntych Panaramio shot, from about 8 mi south of my landing:

That’ll do it. . .

KS

Greg

© 2010 A Landing A Day

Walterhill, Tennessee

First timer?  In this formerly once-a-day blog (then every-other-day blog and now a one-to-three-times a week blog), I have my computer select a random latitude and longitude that puts me somewhere in the continental United States (the lower 48).  I call this “landing.”  I keep track of the watersheds I land in, as well as the town I land near.  I do some internet research to hopefully find something of interest about my landing location.  To find out more about A Landing A Day (like who “Dan” is and what the various numbers and abbreviations mean), please see “About Landing,” (and “Abbreviations” and “Cryptic Numbers”) above.

Dan -  I landed on a marginal USer, which is now a PSer . . . TN; 27/27; 3/10; 7; 156.2.   I called this a “marginal” US landing because my Score went down only 0.1.   FYI, a solid USer landing lowers the Score by 0.5 or 0.6.

Anyway, here’s my landing map, showing  my proximity to Walterhill and its much larger neighbor Murfeesboro:

Here’s an expanded landing map showing that I actually landed in the greater Nashville area:

Here’s a broader view:

I landed in the watershed of two new rivers:  the E Fk of the Stones R, which flows into the Stones R.  These are my 1085th and 1086th rivers.  The Stones flows to the Cumberland (7^th hit); to the Tennessee (36^th hit); to the Ohio (121^st hit) to the MM (762^nd hit).

Here’s my GE shot, which, inspite of the proximity to Nashville, is quite rural:

I couldn’t find anything of interest about Walterhill, except that it’s the home of the Walterhill Floodplain State Natural Area.  Now that might sound boring to you, but it piqued my interest.  Here’s what I found out from the Tennessee Department of Environment and Conservation.  I actually found this very interesting and definitely worth the read (as you might also):

Walterhill Floodplain State Natural Area is a 34-acre natural area that is uniquely different from most natural areas in that it is primarily comprised of an agricultural field. Its main function as a natural area is to protect, maintain, and restore a healthy population of a rare plant species, the Stones River bladderpod (Lesquerella stonensis).

This plant grows along the floodplains of Stones River from which it takes its name. A small winter annual in the mustard family, Stones River bladderpod produces a profusion of white flowers in early spring. After the plant flowers, it quickly dies leaving behind only its seeds which lie dormant on or near the surface of the soil throughout the summer months. In the early fall, those seeds that have found their way into the soil will germinate and grow a small rosette of leaves. The plant remains in this state throughout the cold winter months but will grow very slowly, particularly on warmer days. In late winter the plants react to the warming temperatures and lengthening days by entering a period of rapid growth. This late winter growth period gives the bladderpod a head start on most other plants, effectively avoiding competition for sunlight from other plants later in the spring. In the early spring the plants flower, set seed and then die, completing their life cycle.

Stones River bladderpod requires some level of soil disturbance in order for the seeds to be incorporated into the soil. Historically, seeds were distributed in the soil by scouring of floodwaters or by large grazing animals. Presently, the best soil disturbance results from row crop agricultural practices.

In a unique partnership between Middle Tennessee State University’s College of Agriculture (MTSU) and the Tennessee Natural Areas Program, MTSU cooperatively farms this land in a way that ensures the survival of this plant. After May 15th, the area is lightly plowed and then planted in a summer hay crop that is harvested in late summer. This agricultural activity takes place after the bladderpod completes its lifecycle in the spring, but before its seeds germinate in the fall.

This unique partnership between agriculture and rare plant conservation is helping ensure the long-term survival of this unique plant.

What a cool project!  Of course, we must have a picture of a Stones River bladderpod:

Here’s a shot of an old barn near my landing (from Panaramio):

I’ll close with this Stones River shot (with plenty of stones):

That’ll do it. . .

KS

Greg

© 2010 A Landing A Day

Shasta Lake, California

First timer?  In this formerly once-a-day blog (then every-other-day blog and now a one-to-three-times a week blog), I have my computer select a random latitude and longitude that puts me somewhere in the continental United States (the lower 48).  I call this “landing.”  I keep track of the watersheds I land in, as well as the town I land near.  I do some internet research to hopefully find something of interest about my landing location.  To find out more about A Landing A Day (like who “Dan” is and what the various numbers and abbreviations mean), please see “About Landing,” (and “Abbreviations” and “Cryptic Numbers”) above.

Dan -  It has been a long time (87 landings ago) since I landed in this USer . . . CA; 88/103; 3/10; 6; 156.3.   This landing had some real interest right off the bat.  By that, I mean that when I entered my lat/long into StreetAtlas and looked at my very-close-in landing map (check out the scale, lower right), here’s what I saw:

I landed in water, right next to an I-5 bridge!  Hmmmm.  My CA geography isn’t very good, so I really didn’t have a clue where I was.

I zoomed out a little, and saw that I landed in what appeared to be a lake . . .

Zooming out a little more (and now I’m at the scale of a typical landing map):

So, I landed in Shasta Lake (not surprisingly, fairly close to Mount Shasta).  Here’s a broader view:

It turns out that Shasta Lake was formed by damming up the Sacramento River (23^rd hit).  As you know doubt know, the Sacramento flows into the San Francisco Bay.

Here’s my GE shot:

Here’s an oblique GE shot looking north, so that Mount Shasta comes into view.

I found this Panaramio GE photo, and get this:  I landed close to (or right on top of) the boat!

Looking back up at the third landing map, you can see that the largest town is “Central Valley.”  Central Valley was the name of an unincorporated community that grew up around the building of the Shasta Lake dam in 1938.  Any current map says that that town is “Shasta Lake.”  A little research shows that Shasta Lake was incorporated in 1993.  That shows how out-of-date my StreetAtlas map software is.

Anyway, I visited the City’s website (shastalake.com) and I found this gorgeous shot of Mt. Shasta looking past the dam (photo by Eric Cassano):

Confirming it’s past life as Central Valley, here’s a back-in-the-day shot (also from shastalake.com) of downtown, showing the Central Valley P.O.:

From Wiki, about “memorable descriptions” of Mt. Shasta:

Mount Shasta is not connected to any nearby mountain. It rises abruptly and stands nearly 10,000 feet (3,000 m) above the surrounding terrain. The mountain has attracted the attention of poets, authors, and presidents. Shasta was memorably described by the poet Joaquin Miller:

“Lonely as God, and white as a winter moon, Mount Shasta starts up sudden and solitary from the heart of the great black forests of Northern California.”

Naturalist and author John Muir said of Shasta:

“When I first caught sight of it over the braided folds of the Sacramento Valley, I was fifty miles away and afoot, alone and weary. Yet all my blood turned to wine, and I have not been weary since.”

Theodore Roosevelt said:

“I consider the evening twilight on Mt. Shasta one of the grandest sights I have ever witnessed.”

Wow.  What John Muir said is incredibly powerful.

Under the header “Volcanic Hazards,” from Wiki:

During the last 10,000 years Shasta has erupted an average of every 800 years but in the past 4,500 years the volcano has erupted an average of every 600 years. The last significant eruption on Shasta was observed from a ship in the Pacific Ocean in 1786.

The United States Geological Survey considers Shasta a dormant volcano, which will erupt again. It is impossible to pinpoint the date of next eruption, but it likely will occur within the next several hundred years.

I’ll close with this absolutely wild shot from Wiki of sunrise over Mt. Shasta:

That’ll do it. . .

KS

Greg

© 2010 A Landing A Day

Alcova, Wyoming

First timer?  In this formerly once-a-day blog (then every-other-day blog and now a one-to-three-times a week blog), I have my computer select a random latitude and longitude that puts me somewhere in the continental United States (the lower 48).  I call this “landing.”  I keep track of the watersheds I land in, as well as the town I land near.  I do some internet research to hopefully find something of interest about my landing location.  To find out more about A Landing A Day (like who “Dan” is and what the various numbers and abbreviations mean), please see “About Landing,” (and “Abbreviations” and “Cryptic Numbers”) above.

Dan -  I feel really bad about my lack of posts.  Jody & I were in Eleuthera for 12 days, and when we got back, work was crazy.  Let’s see if I can get back to at least two posts per week.  Anyway, my string of mostly-OSers continues (1/8) with today’s landing in . . WY; 70/62; 3/10; 5; 156.9.

Here’s my landing map, showing my proximity to Alcova, the Alcova Reservoir south of town, the North Platte River, and the Fremont Canyon:

Here’s a broader view:

Here’s my GE shot, showing what looks like a bleached (or winter) landscape.  Actually, I think it’s bleached . . .

Here’s a somewhat expanded GE shot, showing some irrigation up by the North Platte R:

I landed in the watershed of the Wash-Out Creek (consistent with the bleached landscape!); on to the N Platte R (25^th hit); on to the Platte (56^th hit); to the Missouri (358^th hit); to the MM (761^st hit).

Here’s the Wiki write-up on Alcova:

As of the census of 2000, there were 20 people, 7 households, and 7 families residing in Alcova.  The racial makeup was 90% White, 5% African American and 5% Asian.

There is a small elementary school located in town called Alcova Elementary School. It is a small rural school with a single classroom.

I love the census information.  There are 20 people in town, one of whom is African American and one of whom is Asian.

I’m really coming up empty on Alcova & environs.  So, I’ll close with some pretty pictures.  First, this of  the North Platte near Alcova:

Here’s a cool shot of an island in the Alcova Reservoir:

Here’s a view of a rock climber in Fremont Canyon, south of the Reservoir:

Here comes a “just for the heck of it” segment – as I mentioned earlier, I was in Eleuthera.  I took this picture where the island is really skinny, just a strip of rock, with the wild Atlantic Ocean on one side, the calm Caribbean on the other.  I was in a boat on the Caribbean side as huge waves were pounding the Atlantic side.  Look at the truck and telephone poles for scale.  The locals call it a “rage” when huge waves pound the coast.  A rage of this magnitude happens maybe only once in ten years.  Way cool.

I’ll close with this sunset over the North Platte:

That’ll do it. . .

KS

Greg

© 2010 A Landing A Day