First timer? In this (hopefully) once-a-day 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 -  There’s a pretty big block of US real-estate in the southwest quadrant of the lower 48, and I’ve landed there two days in a row.  Yesterday, TX; today . . . NM; 63/73; 2/10; 18; 154.1.  Indicative of my on-going run of bad luck is the fact that I’ve landed in two USers in a row, and I’m at 2/10!

For only the second time, I landed in the Dry Cimarron R watershed, on to the Cimarron (11th hit); to the Arkansas (97th hit); to the MM (714th hit).

Here’s today’s landing map, showing my proximity to the town of Folsom and, more significantly for a geologist like me, the Capulin Volcano!!

Here’s a broader view:

Here’s a close-up GE shot:

It looks to me that I’ve landed on the eastern edge of a small volcanic cinder cone (see the small circular “crater” west of my landing?), but I can’t be sure (actually, maybe it’s just a farm pond . . .)

Here’s a broader GE view, showing some interesting (assuredly volcanic) features:

Here’s an even broader GE view, showing my proximity to the large cinder cone that is the Capulin volcano:

Here’s a cool oblique shot:

Let me move on to the town of Folsom.  From GhostTowns.com:

It could be considered a bit unusual to name a town using the maiden name of the wife of the president of the United States. But that is how the town of Folsom came to be named. Frances Folsom was the maiden name of the wife of Grover Cleveland, president of the United States at the time.   There was no Folsom until the arrival of the railroad, at which time the town was founded in the late 1800s.  By 1895, the town had the largest stockyards north of Fort Worth. In 1908, a flash flood nearly demolished the town drowning 17 persons.

Here’s a shot of an old garage from GhostTowns:

Here are some great pictures from Ghost-Town-Photography.com:

Now, to the volcano.  From the National Park Service:

Between 58,000 to 62,000 years ago, just yesterday on the clock of geologic time, the scene near Capulin would have been one of fire, ash, glowing lava, and ear-shattering explosions.

The volcanic cone rises more than 1,000 feet above the plains to 8,182 feet above sea level and consists chiefly of loose cinders, ash, and other rock debris. These materials were ejected during successive eruptions and fell back upon the vent, piling up to form the conical mountain. The symmetry of Capulin Volcano was preserved because lava did not flow from the main crater but from secondary vents located at the western base of the cone.

Here’s an aerial shot of the cone:

And this shot, looking down into the crater:

Here’s the view of the volcano from the north.  I suspect that my landing is in the middle distance, just in front of the hill you can see (which I think is the feature shown in the second GE shot above).

That’ll do it.

KS

Greg

© 2009 A Landing A Day

First timer? In this (hopefully) once-a-day 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 -  Phew.  After a nasty 0/8 run, which state better to end the drought than the far-and-away leading USer . . . TX; 125/159 (I could land in TX the next 34+ days and it would still be a USer.  Amazing!!!); 2/10; 17; 154.8.

Here’s my landing map, showing that I practically landed in Cottonwood Creek (and also shows my proximity to Roby):

FYI, this was my 17^th different Cottonwood Creek.  I’ve also landed in the watershed of one Cottonwood Wash and one Cottonwood River.

The Cottonwood continues to the Clear Fork of the Brazos R (2^nd hit); on to the Brazos (22^nd hit); on to the G of M.  Interestingly, my first landing in the Clear Fork watershed was landing number 17 (April 29, 1999).

Here’s a broader view:

Here’s my GE shot, with the Cottonwood Creek loud and clear.  FYI, all of the contour planting you see on the farm fields is cotton.

Here’s a GE shot focused on Roby.  Looks like a nice little town from the air . . .

It seems that the big news in Roby happened back in 1996 when 43 residents of Roby each chipped in $10 to buy a bunch of Texas State Lottery tickets.  Well, son of a gun if they didn’t win $46 million (too bad it translates to a somewhat-measley $39,000/yr for 20 years).  Anyway, here’s an article from LubbockOnLine written a year after the momentus event.  I’ve done some editing, but it’s still a little long by ALAD standards (but, as always, worth the read):

A year later, Roby lotto winners still ducking spotlight

By GRETCHEN PARKER
Avalanche-Journal

ROBY – These days, there aren’t many farmers hanging out at Terry’s cotton gin.

The gin’s break room used to draw cotton farmers like a magnet. They would slog through the swirling, snowy gin dust before starting a hard day’s work and pour a hot cup – or two – of Mike Terry’s coffee.

But a year after the “Roby 43″ hit the $46 million Thanksgiving lottery jackpot, local farmers – winners and nonwinners – are fed up with reporters, cameras, questions and curious stares. If they see an unfamiliar car in Terry’s lot, they’ll turn right back around and head home, Terry says.

For a year now, hundreds of reporters and talk show hosts from about a dozen countries have gravitated toward Terry’s gin, where Terry and several other lottery winners work. Terry has given up on ducking the reporters, who poured in daily for two months after the Thanksgiving drawing last year.

He is trapped at the gin, he jokes, where he works 16-18 hours a day during harvest time. Another deluge of reporters began last week, when the winners picked up their second check – they’ll get a payment of $39,000 in late November for the next 19 years.

Terry himself has given more than a hundred interviews, and he’s collected a coat box full of newspaper and magazine clippings of stories about the miracle of Roby.

“The thing that’s so hard for me to fathom is that it’s so fascinating to everyone,” Terry said. “I just can’t believe people keep coming back to do stories on us. What every reporter is dying to know – that someone has quit their job and moved to Tahiti – they’re not going to find that.”

Everyone, it seemed, wanted a piece of the story about Roby – a withering farming town of 616 on the verge of, as one winner put it last year, “drying up and blowing away.” The town had been plagued for years by drought and falling cattle prices. Now farmers about to go under could begin to wade through the red ink, and their children would have the chance to take over the land instead of relocating to nearby Abilene or Sweetwater.

There are a few new pickups, one new house and a new cotton seed mill, which was already a done deal before the lottery. But $39,000 only goes so far, the winners say.

“Everyone expected us to be buying new houses and going on big trips,” said Kathy Terry. “They seem disappointed that we’re not doing those things. But there’s nothing glamorous about being in debt. You’ve got to pay yourself out.”

The first few payments weren’t even enough to put every struggling farmer in the clear. One payment wouldn’t even pay the interest on what some of the farmers owed, Mike Terry said.

“There are winners who are still not out of the woods as far as being able to grow another season,” he said. However, a few older farmers now will be able to retire instead of trying to scratch out another year, he said.

Kathy Terry and her husband owed more than $200,000 when they decided to ante up $10 for the lottery pot last year.”When you owe that much, it’s hard to see the end of it, but we’re getting there,” Kathy Terry said.

She still works about 60 hours a week, she said. “Life hasn’t changed much when you’re still working seven days a week.”

A few haven’t even picked up last week’s checks from the bank. Most, like Terry, are working 18-hour days trying to harvest their crop.

“We’re so busy right now,” Terry said. “The crop’s more important than the lottery. When you’ve got a farmer trying to get a $300,000 crop up before El Nino hits, you’re not thinking about a $39,000 check at the bank.”

Roby farmers have been hit with a larger windfall this year than any lottery – a booming cotton crop. After three years of hauling in a drought-ridden harvest, Terry says he’s already ginned more cotton this year than in 1995 and 1996 combined.

“The cotton crop’s better than the lottery any day,” he said, smiling.

Manuel Valdez and his wife, Susie, used their winnings to pay off their restaurant, Susie’s Fish and Grill, and new equipment they’d invested in. Valdez sleeps better at night, he said, without worrying about a pile of debt.

After working at the gin for 16 years, Valdez was considering moving out of Roby until he decided to open his restaurant last August. The business was struggling until last November, he said. He’s made a nice chunk of change just feeding the reporters who come through town, he said.

His menu features a Lotto Burger special.

Valdez, who said he expected to see articles only in the local and regional newspapers, said he was stunned by the coverage at first.

“You get used to it,” he said. “If a TV crew came in here right now, I’d just tell them to wait a minute.”

Long after the people of Roby have stopped talking about the jackpot, the rest of the world is still interested. Most only mention the lottery every once in a while – when they go to buy more tickets.

“Somebody somewhere has got to win this thing twice,” Mike Terry said. “If it happens again, I’ll move. And I’ll leave an unlisted phone number.”

I can’t really find much more on Roby, except for this cool picture (from William Flood) of a couple of abandoned trucks:

That’ll do it.

KS

Greg

© 2009 A Landing A Day

First timer? In this (hopefully) once-a-day 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 hate it when I sound like a broken record, but here we go again . . . UT; 64/50; 1/10; 16; 155.5.   “Loser Son” asked that I show graphically what has been going on with my Score.  Here ‘tis:

That’s one ugly trend I’m on right now. . . .

On to more important things.  Here’s my landing map, showing my proximity to Westwater Ck (the watershed in which I landed), the Colorado R (147^th hit) and the “towns” of Harley Dome & Westwater.  I’ve decided to feature Westwater, even though it’s a little further away than Harley Dome.

Here’s a broader view:

Here’s my GE shot, showing fairly rugged terrain.  The stream to the north of my landing is in fact Westwater Ck.

Here’s a broader GE view.

You’ll note that I’m right on the edge of a significant geographic / physiographic / geologic feature.  To the west, there’s more vegetation and what looks like more rugged topography; to the east, it’s more barren, more desert-like.  While I suspect that I could do some research and figure out what’s going on, doing so just isn’t high enough on my to-do list right now.

It turns out that the town of Westwater is a ghost town and that the term “Westwater Canyon” designates a portion of the Colorado River – beginning upstream a little north of where Westwater Creek joins the Colorado, and ending some miles downstream.  The Westwater Canyon is a well-known stretch of white water known to legions of rafters and kayakers.

I’ll start with the “town.”  Here’s a picture of a girl near the tracks in Westwater.  I wonder how her life turned out . . .

Here’s a shot of the railroad bridge over the Westwater Ck, near downtown Westwater (likely not at all far from the above picture location):

And this, a truck abandoned a long time ago, used for target practice:

I’ll close with some scenery shots of “Westwater Canyon:”

That’ll do it.

KS

Greg

© 2009 A Landing A Day

First timer? In this (hopefully) once-a-day 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 -  For the first time since March 2008, I’ve gone to 1/10 (not to mention 0/7 and 3/19) with my latest OSer . . . IA; 40/33; 1/10; 15; 155.1.  And after knocking on the 150 door not long ago (19 landings ago, part of the aforementioned 3/19), I’ve climbed halfway up through the 150s, and only LG knows how long it’ll take to wend my way back down to 150 again . . .

Here’s my landing map, showing my proximity to McIntire, Chester and Lime Springs (in IA), and Le Roy (across the border in MN):

I landed in the watershed of a new river, the Upper Iowa (which flows by Lime Springs), on to the Iowa (10^th hit); on to the MM (713^th hit).

Here’s a broader view:

Here’s my GE shot, showing that I landed in what I assume is quintessential IA farmland:

I backed up a little, showing the whole region is a patchwork of farms:

I’ll start with Lime Springs:

Dam?  What dam?  Oh, this dam (across the Upper Iowa River):

This is the Lidtke Mill Dam, and here’s another shot of Lidtke Mill:

About Lidtke Mill:

LIDTKE MILL – Lime Springs, Iowa

This mill, on the Upper Iowa River, is one of the few remaining examples in Iowa of an old flour mill. The mill has working turbines. On the mill grounds is a 1900 Victorian style home which has been furnished in the Late Victorian décor. Across the river is a beautiful park where primitive camping is permitted. The footprints of a worker nearly electrocuted there can still be seen in the floor of the control room.

I searched for photos of the phantom footprints, but could find none.

Moving right along, I found a strange website (“Calvin’s Scrapbook,” a University of Iowa website) containing pictures of geologists in Iowa back in the 1920s.  Here’s a picture of three geologists by their car near Lime Springs:

Here are the same three dudes looking at a small outcrop near the railroad tracks just outside of Lime Springs:

Here they are again, same day, same town:

OK, OK, so I’m a geologist, and I guess if I weren’t, I wouldn’t have bothered with these photos.  Well, excuuuuuuuse me!

Anyway, not much about Le Roy MN, but here’s a 1908 Main St. shot:

Not much about Chester IA, but check out this building for sale right in downtown Chester:

Property: 207 Main Street, Chester, Iowa

Price: $ 85,000
Description: This business is located on Highway 63 approximately 45 mile south of Rochester, MN. The building has a rubber membrane roof and a dock in back of the building. The building is currently being used as a combination pizza restaurant and mini-grocery store. The owner is leaving all of the kitchen equipment, tables & chairs and all of the shelving. (See attached equipment list) The upstairs has a spacious 4 bedroom apartment and has a stove, refrigerator & washer. The adjoining building is also offered for sale.

Wow!  Quite the building for a measley $85,000!!!!

Not much about McIntire, but check out this picture of “Automobile Day” in McIntire, some time in the 1920s . . .

I’ll close with this pleasant shot (same era) of a bridge in McIntire (I suspect that the car on the bridge is one of those parading down Main Street):

That’ll do it.

KS

Greg

© 2009 A Landing A Day

First timer? In this (hopefully) once-a-day 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 -  My 6^th OSer in a row, thanks to this old-time WBer . . . UT; 63/50; 2/10; 14; 154.7.  Here’s my landing map, showing my proximity to Vernal:

Here’s an expanded view:

And my GE shot, showing what I would call dessert scrub:

I landed in the watershed of a quite substantial unnamed tributary, which flows to the Green (25^th hit); to the Colorado (146^th hit).  Here’s a map showing the boundary of the watershed of the unnamed tributary.  For reference, it’s about 7 miles across, with an area of about 35 square miles, or 22,400 acres.  That’s a pretty big hunk of watershed real-estate to go nameless . . .

So, on to Vernal, from Wiki:

The population of Vernal was 7,714 at the 2000 census.  Vernal is one of the largest cities in the United States without a railway. One was proposed in the past, with a railway station being built.  The closest railway is approximately 60 miles away.

From OnlineUtah.com:

Vernal lies in Ashley Valley, named in honor of William H. Ashley, an early fur trader who entered this area in 1825 by floating down the Green River in a bull boat made of animal hides.

Vernal, unlike the majority of Utah towns, was not settled initially by Mormon pioneers.  Brigham Young sent a scouting party to Uinta Basin in 1861 and received word back the area was good for nothing but nomad purposes, hunting grounds for Indians and “to hold the world together.”  That same year, President Abraham Lincoln set the area aside as the Uintah Indian Reservation.

I like Brigham’s quote . . .

White settlers arrived in 1873 and settled on Ashley Creek, about four miles northwest of present day Vernal. Many single men–trappers, prospectors, home seekers, and drifters–arrived in Ashley Valley, and some stayed. However, there wasn’t a woman in the area until 1876.

Three years without a woman!  Shades of Brokeback Mountain . . .

The area where Vernal is now located was called the Bench, and it was described as a large barren cactus flat.  David Johnston & family moved onto the Bench on 6 June 1878. It was reported that when they stopped their wagon, David took his shovel from the wagon and cleared off the cactus so the children could stand without getting cactus needles in their feet. He put the wagon on logs to keep it off the ground as there were many lizards, horned toads, scorpions, mice, and snakes in the area.

On 29 September 1879 the Meeker Massacre occurred in Colorado, with the White River Utes killing their agent, Nathan Meeker, among others. Renegade Utes then rode to Ashley Valley to convince the Uintah Utes to join them in killing all the white people in the area. Instead, the Uintah chiefs advised the settlers to “fort-up.” A fort was built on the Bench due to its open expanse. Many settlers of Ashley Valley took their cabins apart, moving them to the fort site.  People remained in the fort that winter. The winter was severe, killing most of the animals. The humans also suffered. Much of their grain had to be gathered from the ground, since grasshoppers had knocked it from the plant stocks and it became moldy. Diphtheria took its toll. It was March before they could get out of the valley for supplies.

A town grew out of the fort and became known as Ashley Center.  The name Ashley Center was too similar to the existing town of Ashley; the name Vernal was assigned to the community by the U.S. Postal Department.

No word on why the name “Vernal” was chosen.  “Vernal” means having to do with spring, like “vernal equinox.”  But it also means “fresh & young,” so maybe that’s the idea . . .

In 1948 Vernal had its first oil boom. From that time on it has been a boom and bust town. A thriving tourist business by Dinosaur National Monument, as well as livestock and agriculture production, help keep Vernal going during “bust” times.

Gilsonite was mined in the Vernal area for many years.  From Wiki:

Gilsonite is the registered trademark for a form of natural asphalt found in large amounts in the Uintah Basin of Utah; the mineral name is uintaite or uintahite. It is mined in underground shafts and resembles shiny black obsidian. Discovered in the 1860s, it was first marketed as a lacquer, electrical insulator, and waterproofing compound about twenty-five years later by Samuel H. Gilson.

By 1888 Gilson had started a company to mine the substance, but soon discovered the vein was located on the Uintah and Ouray Indian Reservation. Under great political pressure Congress removed some 7,000 acres (28 km²) from the reservation on May 24, 1888 to allow the mining to proceed legally.

Sounds like a raw deal to me . . .

Gilsonite mining became the first large commercial enterprise in the Uintah Basin, causing most of its early population growth.

Gilsonite’s earliest applications included paints for buggies and emulsions for beer-vat lining. It was used by Ford Motor Company as a principal component of the black lacquer used on most of the Ford Model T cars.

This unique mineral is used in more than 160 products, primarily in dark-colored printing inks and paints, oil well drilling muds and cements, asphalt modifiers, foundry sand additives, and a wide variety of chemical products.

Here’s a picture of a vein of Gilsonite being mined:

And here’s a close-up of the stuff:

Moving right along – you no doubt noted the reference to Dinosaur National Monument.  Here’s a landing map showing my proximity to the Monument, located over near the CO state line:

Here are a couple of cool fossil dino shots from the Visitor Center:

I’ll close with some scenery shots from around the park.  I’ll start with a couple of shots showing the Green River:

And finish up with some general scenery shots:

That’ll do it.

KS

Greg

© 2009 A Landing A Day

First timer? In this (hopefully) once-a-day 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 -  This slump only worsens; yet another OSer . . . NY; 36/30; 2/10; 13; 154.2.  My 13 in a row of 4/10 or less is the most I’ve had since I began the blog last November.  Here’s my GE shot, showing that I landed on the edge of a field in what appears to be a prosperous farm:

Here’s my landing map, showing my proximity to Leonardsville and the Unadilla R:

As you can see, I landed in the Button Ck watershed, on to the Unadilla (2^nd hit); on to the Susquehanna (20^th hit); on to the Chesapeake Bay.

Leonardsville’s pretty teeny, but has a relatively robust Wiki entry:

Leonardsville is a hamlet on the Unadilla River in New York.

The community started as a number of small factories deriving power from a dam on the Unadilla River during the first decade of the 1800s. These were known locally as the shops and included a scythe and hoe factory, a blacksmith shop, a grist mill, a saw mill, a horse rake factory and wagon shop, and a foundry and machine shop.

Hmmm.  I more or less can figure out the various “shops,” but not a horse rake factory.  You’ll note in the above paragraph that various words are blue and underlined.  That, of course, means that there’s a link to another Wiki entry.  For “horse rake,” there are separate links to “horse” and “rake”, which of course doesn’t tell you a darn thing about what a horse rake is.  From the “CampSilos” website:

Hay is a mixture of many grasses and other plants. To the farmer, hay is a very important plant. For the most part hay is used for livestock feed. Horses, cattle, hogs and sheep use hay for food. It was, therefore, an important crop on the early farms of Iowa. For many years hay had been cut by a scythe, or sharp knife, and then raked up by hand.

Around the time of the Civil War, workable sickle mowers were invented. The earliest mower was the horse-rake. It was a toothed sickle, which moved rapidly back and forth on a frame and was pulled by a horse. The revolving horse-rake replaced about six people with hand scythes and rakes.

During the late 1860’s a seat for a driver was added to the horse rake. This “sulky” had a lever from the rake to the drive, enabling the operator to trip the load when the rake was full.

Here’s a better picture of a horse rake:

Back to Wiki about Leonardsville:

As with many small communities, Leonardsville was given its name by the Post Office Department, which in this case named it after Reuben Leonard who, in the early years, ran a local grocery and dry goods business that became a convenient location to drop off mail for local residents.

The shops were generally successful, employing over 100 workers at their peak in the 1930s.  Until the 1950s, when the manufacturing shops closed, Leonardsville was a stop on the Unadilla Valley Railroad, had a milk station (now a recycling center) and a feed store.  None of the manufacturing buildings remain, but the former Crandall Department Store still stands and is now the regionally-known Horned Dorset Restaurant.

What’s a horned dorset, you may ask.  Well, here’s a shot of one:

Here’s a shot of the erstwhile Crandall Department Store (little did it know it was eventually to become an upscale restaurant):

And here’s a shot of the Horned Dorset restaurant:

It turns out there’s a resort called the Horned Dorset Primavera in Rincon, Puerto Rico.  I’ve been to Rincon many times (my brother-in-law the surfer used to live there).  Anyway, the Horned Dorset (which I’ve never seen) is quite the fancy place:

I went to the Horned Dorset Primavera website and found something very, very strange.  As you’d expect, the site describes all of the amenities down in Rincon.  But there’s a link (that blends in with all their other links) that says “Horned Dorset Inn.”  I nonchalantly clicked on the link and Bingo!  – up comes a series of lovely photos of the restaurant in Leonardsville!   I poked around, but could find no connection other than the name between the two!  This seems crazy.  I mean, if I want to go to an upscale resort in Puerto Rico, why would I care about an out-of-the-way restaurant in upstate NY?   I assume they’re owned by the same person, but one would think that they’d explain the relationship . . .

If you look on my landing map, you’ll see that I landed just east of Button Falls.  I landed in the Button Ck watershed, so rain falling on my landing spot ends up going over the falls.  I’ll close with this lovely photo of the falls:

That’ll do it.

KS

Greg

© 2009 A Landing A Day

First timer? In this (hopefully) once-a-day 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 -  Ouch.  I’ve slipped all the way down to 2/10 with my landing in one of the evil MM&Ms . . . MI; 43/45; 2/10; 12; 153.8.  I landed way up in the UP.  Here’s my landing map:

And an expanded view, showing my location.  I landed at the base of the Keweenaw Peninsula, the copper country of the UP:

Here’s my GE shot, showing I landed deep in the woods:

And an expanded GE shot:

So anyway, I landed in a new watershed – the Pike R; on to the Portage R (2^nd hit); on to Lake Superior (14^th hit); on to the St. Lawrence (85^th hit).  The Portage R , which you can see on the above GE shot, is peculiar; it’s not a typical river, because it cuts across a peninsula, connecting two portions of Lake Superior.  Actually, it turns out that the Portage R is part of an engineered channel called the Keweenaw Waterway.  From Wiki:

The Keweenaw Waterway is a partly natural, partly manmade waterway which cuts across the Keweenaw Peninsula of Upper Michigan. Parts of the waterway are variously known as the Portage Canal, Portage River and Portage Lake.

Originally a small river used by natives for transportation and fishing, the waterway was dredged and extended in the 1860s in a joint venture between the United States Government and several mining corporations. The expanded canal allowed freighters to more easily haul copper from the rich copper mines of the Keweenaw Peninsula out through Lake Superior to larger cities. It also enabled supply boats and freighters to reach the cities of Houghton and Hancock, which supplied goods to most of Michigan’s copper region.

As the waterway connects Lake Superior to itself, there are no locks needed.

The portion of the Keweenaw Peninsula north of the waterway is known locally as Copper Island, because the waterway separates the northern part of the Keweenaw Peninsula from the mainland.

As you can see on my landing map, I landed near the town of Chassall.  About Chassall, from ExploringTheNorth.com:

This pleasant community on Chassell Bay in Portage Lake (part of Lake Superior) was named for John Chassell. He was a French farmer who bought the land in 1867.  This was a lumbering, farming and fishing community with potatoes and strawberries the main crops. The Strawberry Festival is still held in July on the first weekend after the fourth.

Here’s a shot of Lake Superior, south of Chassall:

And this, of a cross country ski trail near Chassall:

Here’s an old school house just outside of Chassall:

I’ll close with this tourist trap in Chassall, which happens to be a giant bear trap.  Look close, and you see that it looks like an unwary snow mobile got a little too close . . .

That’ll do it.

KS

Greg

© 2009 A Landing A Day

First timer? In this (hopefully) once-a-day 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 -  Well, my last landing marked my third recent landing in WA, and today marks my second recent landing in . . . OH; 25/24 (goodbye PS-land); 3/10; 11; 153.4 (only 0.1 higher).  I landed in the NW part of the state, not far from Toledo.  Here’s my landing map, showing my proximity to Swanton & Delta:

Here’s a broader view, more particularly showing proximity to Toledo and Lake Erie:

Here’s a very broad view:

I landed in the Fewless Ck watershed; on to the Swan Ck; on to the Maumee R (2^nd hit); on to Lake Erie (9^th hit); on to the St. Lawrence (84^th hit).  Here’s my GE shot, showing that I landed in farm country that is becoming increasingly developed, thanks to nearby Toledo:

I noticed on my landing map that I landed near Oak Openings Park.  It sounded a little peculiar, so I dug in a little.  From Wiki:

The Oak Openings Region is a globally rare ecosystem composed of over 130 square miles in Northwest Ohio. Then land consists largely of oak savanna and grassland prairie. It is considered by The Nature Conservancy as having the ecological importance as the Florida Everglades and is one of the 200 “Last Great Places on Earth”.

This unique area was formed after the last age when the continental glacier melted leaving behind a large lake called Lake Warren. Over time, this lake was gradually reduced to present day Lake Erie and left behind a large tract of ancient beaches and sand dunes to the west. The area was frequented by wildfires of which only thick-barked oak trees could survive.

When pioneers arrived after first crossing through the Great Black Swamp they called the area the “Oak Openings” as a comparison to the thick swamp.

Today, the Oak Openings Preserve Metropark is the largest intact piece of savanna remaining.

I zoomed out on GE, and could see the Oak Openings area.  It’s the large rectangular landscape to the east of my landing (and just to the southwest of the airport).  You can see that it looks different from surrounding landscapes:

Here’s some more info from Ohio-Nature.com:

The sandy soil left by the lake helped to create one of the most unique ecosystems and habitats in the state of Ohio as well as globally. The depth of the sand is anywhere from inches to 20 feet deep. Beneath the sand is a thick layer of blue clay that water cannot penetrate.

That’s why in some areas there is standing water for much of the year and in other areas it is almost desert-like. On the sand dunes the water quickly filters through the sand down to the clay layer.

Where the sand is thin and the clay is only inches below, there is standing water and swampy areas for much of the year. It is only during the warm, dry days of summer and fall that the water dries up.

You will see high, dry sandy areas which quickly give way to wet, swampy areas. This transition is in a matter of feet. You can be standing on top of a sand dune looking down at a swamp.

The entire Oak Opening Region is like this, yellow sand dunes giving way to swamp forest or wet prairie.

Here’s a shot of some Oak Openings forest:

Here are some of the relict dunes:

And this, of a sedge meadow:

And this, some more sandy relict dunes:

Just north of my landing is a teeny dot on the map labeled “Brailey.”  Here’s a picture of turn of the century “downtown” Brailey:

Here’s a 1922 picture of the students at the Brailey School.  Check out the faces closely.  There are two smiling (probably devilish) boys (one in the front row, one in the back).  None of the girls are really smiling, although a couple of girls look like they’re working hard to suppress a smile.  Next to one of those girls is a girl (right in the middle) who looks truly miserable.

I’ll close with this shot of flowers and a butterfly from Oak Openings:

That’ll do it.

KS

Greg

© 2009 A Landing A Day

First timer? In this (hopefully) once-a-day 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 -  The slump continues, as, for the third time in the last 9 landings, I landed in . . . WA; 44/42; 3/10; 10; 153.3.  Here’s my landing map, showing my proximity to several small towns, and the Pacific Ocean:

Here’s a broader view:

I think I’ll jump right to my GE photo, because I needed to use it to figure out which watershed I landed in:

I’m showing an oblique view, which highlights the topography.  When I drew the scale line, I was shocked to find that it actually followed the terrain!!  So, the 2-mile line I drew looks crooked as anything, but is actually a straight line if you were looking down at it!

As you can see, I landed in a mountainous region, just south of an east-west trending ridgeline.  As is evident, I’m in the watershed south of the ridge, not north.  Here’s a close-up landing map, with the streams and rivers shown.  I’ve also put in drainage divides for the major river watersheds in the area (and posted the names of the various rivers):

You can see how I needed to look at GE before I could figure out if I was in the Humptulips watershed or the Quinault watershed.  So, by a whisker ( about the length of a football field, which is how far I landed from the ridge line), I’m in the Humptulips.

I actually landed in the watershed of the West Fork of the Humptulips R (a new river); on to the Humptulips (also a new river); on to the PO.  These are my 1038th and 1039th rivers.

Humptulips.  Now there’s a strange name!!  From Wiki:

The Humptulips River is a river in Grays Harbor County, Washington. Its main tributaries are the East Fork Humptulips River, about 20 miles long, and West Fork Humptulips River, about 30 miles long. After the forks join, the main river is approximately 20 miles long.

Variant names, according to the USGS, include Hum-tu-lups, Humptolups, Humtutup, and Um-ta-lah. The name comes from the Humptulips Indians, part of the Chehalis tribe. Some sources say the word “humptulips” means “hard to pole” while others say it means “chilly region”.

I think that “hard to pole” is much better than “chilly region.”  I would assume that the Indians named the river Humptulips because it was tough going on their rafts.  And then, someone decided to name the tribe after the river.  Here’s a nice shot of the W Fk of the Humptulips:

As for the towns:  it turns out that there really isn’t much about them on the internet.   I love the names – Humptulips, Quinault, Moclip, Kalaloch, Taholah.  I used Quinault for the title of this post just because it’s the closest.

Anyway, I’ll just close with some pictures.  Here’s a moody shot of the beach at Taholah:

And here are two shots of Quinault Lake:

That’ll do it.

KS

Greg

© 2009 A Landing A Day

First timer? In this (hopefully) once-a-day 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 -  After a week in Eleuthera (with no landings), and then a couple of hectic days back home (with no landings), I’m finally posting.  Still in the doldrums (3/10; 9 in a row 4/10 or less), with today’s landing in . . . ND; 51/42; 3/10; 9; 152.9.  Here’s my landing map, showing my proximity to Belden, Stanley & Palermo.

I landed in the Shell Ck watershed, on to the Missouri (335^th hit); on to the MM (712^th hit).  Here’s a broader view, showing my proximity to the Missouri.

The Missouri is dammed here, and you can see part of Lake Sakakawea.  From Wiki, about the lake:

Lake Sakakawea is a reservoir in the Missouri River basin in central North Dakota. Named for the Shoshone-Hidatsa woman Sakakawea, it is the third largest man-made lake in the United States, after Lake Mead and Lake Powell.

The reservoir was created with the completion of Garrison Dam in 1956, the second (and largest) of six main-stem dams on the Missouri River built and managed by the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers for flood control, hydroelectric power, navigation and irrigation.

The creation of the lake displaced members of the Fort Berthold Indian Reservation from the cities of Van Hook and Sanish, forcing the creation of New Town. Incidentally, one name that had been proposed for New Town was ‘Vanish’ (a pun on the two previous towns’ names).Fort Berthold Indian Reservation from the cities of Van Hook and Sanish, forcing the creation of New Town. Incidentally, one name that had been proposed for New Town was ‘Vanish’ (a pun on the two previous towns’ names).

I love the idea of combining Van Hook and Sanish and naming the town “Vanish.”   Here are some nice photos of the lake:

Getting back to my landing spot, here’s my GE shot, which shows some real funky landscapes.  It looks like a glaciated, uneven terrain, but I have no clue what the light gray area to the east is.

Here’s another GE view, a little further back.  Verrrry interesting . . .

Anyway, I stumbled on a travel blog by Bill & Barbara Windsor (click here for their blog).  Here’s what they had to say about New Town & Stanley:

New Town provided a real laugh!  Here’s a picture of The Earl Bunyan Statue:

Not PAUL Bunyan, but Earl. Earl was “dreamed up by Fred and Berd LaRocque” in 1958. Earl stands about 20-feet tall — a string bean with a mustache. He stands atop a pile of rocks, wears a cowboy hat, boots, and tight-fitting jeans. The story they created is that Earl is Paul’s brother. Fred and Berd are buried beneath the statue.

We visited Stanley, North Dakota to have a Whirla-Whip at the Dakota Drug Store. A Whirla-Whip is a mixture of ice cream with any of a variety of fruits and/or candies. The machine whips the ice cream and additives together, and the end result is a thick blended cross between a milk shake and ice cream.

Dakota Drug began using the Whirl-a-Whip machine in 1949. The machine was manufactured between 1937 and 1942. Whirl-a-Whip was really popular at Dakota Drug, and the owners of the store had the foresight to begin purchasing Whirl-a-Whip machines from small town stores in North Dakota in the early 60’s when many of them were remodeling and removing soda fountains from their stores.

As a result, the store now has several Whirl-a-Whip machines, and Dakota Drug is the only place in the world where you can get an original Whirl-a-Whip.

Being a curious kind of guy, I Googled Whirl-a-Whip, and it turns out that the idea lives on.  If you happen to have an ice cream parlor, you can buy yourself a new fangled version of the Whirla Whip which appears to do pretty much what the older version did.   Maybe the old version is Whirl-a-Whip and the new version, Whirla Whip (sans dashes).  Anyway, from the Whirla Whip website:

If you have a hankerin’ for a Whirl-a-Whip (with two dashes), you know where you have to go.  I’ll close with a couple of cloud pictures from Palermo (two shots of the same cloud formation):

That’ll do it.

KS

Greg

© 2009 A Landing A Day