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Eureka, Nevada (third time around)

Posted by graywacke on April 15, 2018

First timer?  In this formerly once-a-day blog (and now pretty much a once-every-four-or-five days blog), I use an app that provides 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 or towns 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) please see “About Landing” above.  To check out some recent changes in how I do things, check out “About Landing (Revisited).”

Landing number 2397; A Landing A Day blog post number 831.

Dan:  Today’s lat/long (39o 45.422’N, 115o40.753’W) puts me in central east Nevada:

My local landing map shows that I landed in the boonies:

I won’t both with a streams-only map, because there are no streams anywhere close by.  Instead, here’s Google Earth (GE) shot of my “watershed”:

As you can see, I landed in the watershed of Newark Valley, which contains no streams and goes nowhere.  The lowest areas are yellowish.

Here’s an oblique GE shot, looking north (and yes, you can see my yellow landing pin if you look closely):

 

See the largest mountain peak in the range to the west of my landing?  That’s Diamond Peak, and here’s a Wiki shot from the top of the mountain, looking up Newark Valley:

I get another look at my landing using Google Earth (GE) Street View:

And here’s what the Orange Dude sees:

I had the OD look southwest.  That’ Diamond Peak in the distance:

It’s time to jump right to the town of Eureka.  This is the third time this blog has featured Eureka (two early landings back in 2009). From my April 2009 post:

Eureka is (guess what?) a mining town that had boom years back in the late 1800s, with a population that made it to 10,000. Times change, markets change, and the ore runs out.  So, a few pictures will have to do . . .

Here’s one of nearby Diamond Peak:

And a Diamond Valley sunset:

The unavoidable Main Street shot:

And this, of an early 1900s Eureka resident:

Route 50 through Nevada is touted as “America’s Loneliest Highway.” Here are a couple of pictures to support that position:

I’ll close with this overview of Eureka:

And then, from my August 2009 post:

So, I apologize, but this is going to be an uninspiring post. I’m just going to present a few pictures of Eureka that I didn’t post last time. Here goes, starting with a picture of the somewhat-famous Eureka Opera House:

And this, of the Jackson Hotel:

And just because I like this picture so much the last time, here’s the lady from Eureka in the early 1900s:

I’ll close with this old truck shot from outside Eureka:

This time around, I’ll present this historical marker:

Here’s the text:

Eureka!  A miner is said to have exclaimed in September 1864 when the discovery of rich ore was made here – and thus the town was named.  Eureka soon developed the first important lead-silver deposits in the nation and during the furious boom of the 80’s had 16 smelters, over 100 saloons.  A population of 10,000 and a railroad – the colorful Eureka and Palisade – that connected with the main line 90 miles north of here.

Ore production began to fall off in 1883 and by 1891 the smelters closed, their site marked by the huge slag piles at both ends of Main Street.

Just to round things out, here’s the ubiquitous lady on the horse:

I’ll close with this 1950 shot of Main Street, from RainesMarket.com (their self-guided tour):

It sure makes me feel old, realizing that the above photo and I were created in the same year . . .

That’ll do it . . .

KS

Greg

 

© 2018 A Landing A Day

 

 

 

 

 

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Jamestown, North Dakota

Posted by graywacke on April 7, 2018

First timer?  In this formerly once-a-day blog (and now pretty much a once-every-four-or-five days blog), I use an app that provides 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 or towns 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) please see “About Landing” above.  To check out some recent changes in how I do things, check out “About Landing (Revisited).”

Landing number 2396; A Landing A Day blog post number 830.

Dan:  Today’s lat/long (47o 0.757’N, 99o22.267’W) puts me in central southeast North Dakota:

My local landing map shows my usual VP* of small towns; in this case anchored by the sizable Jamestown (pop 15,000):

*veritable plethora

My streams-only map doesn’t show much in the way of streams:

What it does show are a lot of so-called “prairie potholes.”  (Type “Grenville” into the search box to see my Grenville ND post, where I provide an excellent explanation of this unique landscape).

As one might suspect in this case, drainage from my landing pretty much just flows into the nearest pothole, and goes nowhere from there.  I used Google Earth (GE) to verify:

Note that my landing elevation is 1886 (feet above sea level), and that runoff from my landing flows directly west into the pothole, at elevation 1870.  Further note that elevations all around the pothole are much higher.  Ergo:  water goes in, but doesn’t go out.

My regular readers could write the next sentence (or something very much like it) for me:  “Of course, I checked out each of the little towns on my local landing map, and (as you can tell by the post title), they are all:”

This entire post will be based on Wiki’s list of “Notable People” from Jamestown.  I’ll start with Willis Downs – Philippine-American war Medal of Honor Recipient.

First, a little about the Philippine-American war, from Wiki:

The Philippine–American War was an armed conflict between the First Philippine Republic and the United States that lasted from February 4, 1899, to July 2, 1902.

The Filipinos saw the conflict as a continuation of the Filipino struggle for independence that began in 1896 with the Philippine Revolution; the U.S. government regarded it as an insurrection.  The conflict arose when the First Philippine Republic objected to the terms of the Treaty of Paris under which the United States took possession of the Philippines from Spain, ending the Spanish–American War.

Fighting erupted between forces of the United States and those of the Philippine Republic on February 4, 1899, in what became known as the Second Battle of Manila. On June 2, 1899, the First Philippine Republic officially declared war against the United States.  The war officially ended on July 2, 1902, with a victory for the United States.

The war and occupation by the U.S. changed the cultural landscape of the islands, as people dealt with an estimated 200,000 to 1,500,000 total Filipino civilians dead, disestablishment of the Catholic Church in the Philippines as a state religion, and the introduction of the English language in the islands as the primary language of government, education, business, industry, and among families and educated individuals.

Estimates of the Filipino forces vary between 80,000 and 100,000, with tens of thousands of auxiliaries. Most of the forces were armed only with bolo knives, bows and arrows, spears and other primitive weapons which were vastly inferior to those of the American forces.

This war apparently was far from America’s finest moment.  Continuing from Wiki:

Throughout the war, American soldiers and other witnesses sent letters home which described some of the atrocities committed by American forces. For example, In November 1901, the Manila correspondent of the Philadelphia Ledger wrote: “The present war is no bloodless, opera bouffe engagement; our men have been relentless, have killed to exterminate men, women, children, prisoners and captives, active insurgents and suspected people from lads of ten up, the idea prevailing that the Filipino as such was little better than a dog…”

Wow.  Well, anyway, here’s the citation for Jamestown’s own Willis Downs:

“With 11 other scouts, without waiting for the supporting battalion to aid them or to get into a position to do so, charged over a distance of about 150 yards and completely routed about 300 of the enemy who were in line and in a position that could only be carried by a frontal attack.”

I would never second-guess or criticize Mr. Downs.  But considering the historical context . . .

And there’s another Medal of Honor Recipient from Jamestown (this one for the Vietnam war) – Michael Fitzmaurice. 

Here’s his citation (from Wiki):

For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity in action at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty. Sp4c. Fitzmaurice, 3d Platoon, Troop D, distinguished himself at Khe Sanh.

Sp4c. Fitzmaurice and 3 fellow soldiers were occupying a bunker when a company of North Vietnamese sappers infiltrated the area. At the onset of the attack Sp4c. Fitzmaurice observed 3 explosive charges which had been thrown into the bunker by the enemy. Realizing the imminent danger to his comrades, and with complete disregard for his personal safety, he hurled 2 of the charges out of the bunker. He then threw his flak vest and himself over the remaining charge.

By this courageous act he absorbed the blast and shielded his fellow-soldiers. Although suffering from serious multiple wounds and partial loss of sight, he charged out of the bunker, and engaged the enemy until his rifle was damaged by the blast of an enemy hand grenade.

While in search of another weapon, Sp4c. Fitzmaurice encountered and overcame an enemy sapper in hand-to-hand combat. Having obtained another weapon, he returned to his original fighting position and inflicted additional casualties on the attacking enemy.

Although seriously wounded, Sp4c. Fitzmaurice refused to be medically evacuated, preferring to remain at his post. Sp4c. Fitzmaurice’s extraordinary heroism in action at the risk of his life contributed significantly to the successful defense of the position and resulted in saving the lives of a number of his fellow soldiers.

These acts of heroism go above and beyond the call of duty, are in keeping with the highest traditions of the military service, and reflect great credit on Sp4c. Fitzmaurice and the U.S. Army.

I’ll also mention briefly the following (more-or-less from Wiki):

Richard Hieb – Space Shuttle astronaut – Technical specialist on three Shuttle missions.

He logged He over 750 hours in space, including over 17 hours of EVA (space walk), traveling over 13 million miles.

Louis L’Amour – Writer of cowboy novels – He wrote 100 novels, over 250 short stories, and (as of 2010) sold more than 320 million copies of his work.

By the 1970s his writings were translated into over 10 languages. Every one of his works is still in print.

Rhonda Rousey – MMA (mixed martial arts) fighter – Even I heard of her, back in 2015, apparently.

She won 12 consecutive MMA fights, six in the Ultimate Fighting Championship (UFC), before suffering her first loss, to Holly Holm in November 2015. She won 11 of those fights in the first round.

In May 2015, two magazines ranked Rousey as the most “dominant” active athlete.  In September 2015, voters in an online ESPN poll selected Rousey as the Best Female Athlete Ever.  Later that month, she claimed to be the UFC’s highest paid fighter, male or female.  In 2015, she was the third most searched person on Google.

I’ll finish up with Miss Peggy Lee.  From Wiki:

Norma Deloris Egstrom (1920 – 2002) known professionally as Peggy Lee, was an American jazz and popular music singer, songwriter, composer, and actress, in a career spanning six decades. From her beginning as a vocalist on local radio to singing with Benny Goodman’s big band, she forged a sophisticated persona, evolving into a multi-faceted artist and performer. During her career, she wrote music for films, acted, and recorded conceptual record albums that combined poetry and music.

I remember well two songs by Peggy Lee.  First, this, “Fever:”

 

Never know how much I love you
Never know how much I care
When you put your arms around me
I get a fever that’s so hard to bear

You give me fever
When you kiss me
Fever when you hold me tight
Fever! in the morning
Fever all through the night

Sun lights up the daytime
Moon lights up the night
I light up when you call my name
And you know I’m gonna treat you right

You give me fever
When you kiss me
Fever when you hold me tight
Fever! in the morning
Fever all through the night

Everybody’s got the fever
That is something you all know
Fever isn’t such a new thing
Fever started long ago

Romeo loved Juliet
Juliet, she felt the same
When he put his arms around her
He said, “Julie, baby, you’re my flame

“Thou giveth fever
“When we kisseth
“Fever with thy flaming youth
“Fever! I’m afire
“Fever, yea, I burn, forsooth.”

Cap’n Smith and Pocahontas
Had a very mad affair
When her daddy tried to kill him
She said, “Daddy, oh, don’t you dare!

“He gives me fever
“With his kisses
“Fever when he holds me tight
“Fever! I’m his missus
“Daddy, won’t you treat him right?”

Now you’ve listened to my story
Here’s the point that I have made
Chicks were born to give you fever
Be it Fahrenheit or Centigrade

They give you fever
When you kiss them
Fever if you live and learn
Fever! till you sizzle
What a lovely way to burn
What a lovely way to burn
What a lovely way to burn
What a lovely way to burn

 

The second of her songs that I knew is “Is That All There Is?”  I’ll start with this quip about the meaning of the song, posted on PeggyLee.com:

 

I remember when I was a little girl
Our house caught on fire
I’ll never forget the look on my father’s face
As he gathered me up in his arms and
Raced through the burning building out to the pavement
And I stood there shivering in my pajamas and
Watched the whole world go up in flames
And when it was all over, I said to myself
“Is that all there is to a fire”

Is that all there is
Is that all there is
If that’s all there is, my friends
Then let’s keep dancing
Let’s break out the booze and have a ball
If that’s all there is

And when I was twelve years old
My daddy took me to a circus
“The Greatest Show on Earth”
There were clowns and elephants and dancing bears
And a beautiful lady in pink tights flew high above our heads
And as I sat there watching
I had the feeling that something was missing
I don’t know what
But when it was all over, I said to myself
“Is that all there is to a circus”

Is that all there is
Is that all there is
If that’s all there is, my friends
Then let’s keep dancing
Let’s break out the booze and have a ball
If that’s all there is

And then I fell in love
With the most wonderful boy in the world
We’d take long walks down by the river
Or just sit for hours gazing into each other’s eyes
We were so very much in love
And then one day, he went away
And I thought I’d die, but I didn’t
And when I didn’t, I said to myself
“Is that all there is to love”

Is that all there is
Is that all there is
If that’s all there is, my friends
Then let’s keep

I know what you must be saying to yourselves
“If that’s the way she feels about it
Why doesn’t she just end it all”
Oh, no, not me
I’m in no hurry for that final disappointment
Cause I know just as well as I’m standing here talking to you
That when that final moment comes and I’m breathing my last breath
I’ll be saying to myself

Is that all there is
Is that all there is
If that’s all there is, my friends
Then let’s keep dancing
Let’s break out the booze and have a ball
If that’s all there is

This is a poster child for songs known as “haunting.”

I’ll close with three GE pics.  First this, by Akhil Bhaskaran Nair, of the world’s largest bison statue (in Jamestown):

And this, by Eric Pearson, of the world’s largest sandhill crane statue (in Steele, just off my local landing map to the southwest).

Here’s Main Street in Pettibone – the town closest to my landing – by Debra Clark:

I’ll close with this sunset shot on Jamestown Reservoir, by Justin Heubrock:

 

That’ll do it . . .

KS

Greg

 

© 2018 A Landing A Day

 

 

 

 

 

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Okemah (revisited) and Clearview, Oklahoma

Posted by graywacke on April 1, 2018

First timer?  In this formerly once-a-day blog (and now pretty much a once-every-four-or-five days blog), I use an app that provides 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 or towns 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) please see “About Landing” above.  To check out some recent changes in how I do things, check out “About Landing (Revisited).”

Landing number 2395; A Landing A Day blog post number 829.

Dan:  Today’s lat/long (35o 24.897’N, 96o 9.579’W) puts me in central east Oklahoma:

A quick word about my use of the term “central east,” above.  “East Central” means the eastern part of the state and central from a north-south perspective.  “Central east” means in the central part of the state, but towards the east.

Here’s my local landing map:

My streams-only map shows that I landed in the watershed of Bad Creek; on to the North Canadian (19th hit); on to the Canadian (50th hit).

Not shown (but known by most readers) — the Canadian discharges to the Arkansas (132nd hit); on to the MM (930th hit).

Google Earth (GE) had no Street View shots of my landing worth anything, but I was able to get a look at the Bad, just south of Pharoah:

And here’s a not-so-bad shot of the Bad:

You can tell by the title of this post that I’ve been in Okemah before (my October 10, 2009 post), so I already knew that Okemah is the birthplace of Woody Guthrie.  Just because I’m lazy, I’ll borrow some from that post:

From WoodyGuthrie.com:

Woodrow Wilson Guthrie was born on July 14, 1912, in Okemah, Oklahoma. His father – a cowboy, land speculator, and local politician – taught Woody Western songs, Indian songs, and Scottish folk tunes. His Kansas-born mother, also musically inclined, had an equally profound effect on Woody.

Woody’s birthplace:

In 1931, when Okemah’s oil boomtown period went bust, Woody left for Texas. In the panhandle town of Pampa, he fell in love with Mary Jennings, the younger sister of a friend and musician named Matt Jennings. Woody and Mary were married in 1933, and together had three children, Gwen, Sue and Bill.

If the Great Depression made it hard for Woody to support his family, the onslaught of the Great Dust Storm period, which hit the Great Plains in 1935, made it impossible. Drought and dust forced thousands of desperate farmers and unemployed workers from Oklahoma, Kansas, Tennessee, and Georgia to head west in search of work. Woody, like hundreds of “dustbowl refugees,” hit Route 66, also looking for a way to support his family, who remained back in Pampa.

Moneyless and hungry, Woody hitchhiked, rode freight trains, and even walked his way to California, taking whatever small jobs he could. In exchange for bed and board, Woody painted signs and played guitar and sang in saloons along the way, developing a love for traveling the open road—a lifelong habit he would often repeat.

If I’ve made you curious about all things Woody, there’s much more at the WoodyGuthrie.com website, which you can look up on your own.

As mentioned above, Woody moved to Pampa, Texas.  Guess where else I’ve landed?  Here are some excerpts from my July 24, 2015 post:

I found a NY Times article, (Aug 12, 2012 by Lawrence Downes) entitled “As Woody Turns 100, We Protest Too Little.”  Here’s the opening few paragraphs (after the iconic picture from the article):

In October the Kennedy Center will throw a centennial party for Woody Guthrie, a star-studded concert with tickets topping out at $175. It will be America’s ultimate tribute to a beloved troubadour. “Through his unique music, words and style,” the Kennedy Center says, “Guthrie was able to bring attention and understanding to the critical issues of his day.”

Poor Woody. The life and music of America’s great hobo prophet, its Dust Bowl balladeer, boiled down to this: He brought attention to the critical issues of his day.

Maybe that’s what happens to dissidents who are dead long enough. They are reborn for folk tales and children’s books and PBS pledge drives.

They become safe enough for the Postal Service. “For a man who fought all his life against being respectable, this comes as a stunning defeat,” Arlo Guthrie said in 1998, when his father was put on a 32-cent stamp.

Will Kaufman’s book “Woody Guthrie, American Radical” tried to set the record straight last year. The sentimental softening and warping of Woody’s reputation began early, even as he was dying, in the 1960s.

But under the saintly folk hero has always been an angry vigilante — a fascist-hating, Communist-sympathizing rabble-rouser who liked to eviscerate his targets, sometimes with violent imagery. He was a man of many contradictions, but he was always against the rich and on the side of the oppressed.

So for today’s post, I thought I’d feature his far-and-away most famous song, “This Land is Your Land.”  I’ll start with this, from Wiki:

On the typescript submitted for copyright of “This Land Is Your Land,” Guthrie wrote:

“This song is Copyrighted in U.S., under Seal of Copyright # 154085, for a period of 28 years, and anybody caught singin it without our permission, will be mighty good friends of ourn, cause we don’t give a dern. Publish it. Write it. Sing it. Swing to it. Yodel it. We wrote it, that’s all we wanted to do.”

Here’s a 1944 version of Woody singing (of course) “This Land is My Land (lyrics below):

 

This land is your land, and this land is my land
From California to the New York island;
From the red wood forest to the Gulf Stream waters
This land was made for you and me.

As I was walking that ribbon of highway,
I saw above me that endless skyway:
I saw below me that golden valley:
This land was made for you and me.

I’ve roamed and rambled and I follered my footsteps
To the sparkling sands of her diamond deserts;
All around me a voice was a-sounding:
This land was made for you and me.

There was a big high wall there that tried to stop me.
A sign was painted, said “Private Property.”
But on the back side, it didn’t say nuthin,’
This land was made for you and me.

When the sun come shining, and I was strolling,
And the wheat fields waving and the dust clouds rolling,
A voice was chanting as the fog was lifting
This land was made for you and me.

This land is your land, this land is my land
From California to the New York island;
From the red wood forest to the Gulf Stream waters
This land was made for you and me.

Although not in the above version, here are some other verses that Woody periodically included:

As I went walking I saw a sign there
And on the sign it said “No Trespassing.”
But on the other side it didn’t say nothing,
That side was made for you and me.

In the shadow of the steeple I saw my people,
By the relief office I seen my people;
As they stood there hungry, I stood there asking
Is this land made for you and me?

Nobody living can ever stop me,
As I go walking that freedom highway;
Nobody living can ever make me turn back
This land was made for you and me.

From Wiki:

“This Land Is Your Land” is one of the United States’ most famous folk songs. Its lyrics were written by American folk singer Woody Guthrie in 1940.  He used an existing melody, a Carter Family tune called “When the World’s on Fire.”

The song was written in critical response to Irving Berlin’s “God Bless America,” as Guthrie was becoming tired of hearing Kate Smith sing her rendition on the radio in the late 1930s.  Initially titled “God Blessed America for Me,” he renamed it “This Land Is Your Land.”

I didn’t realize that Woody didn’t write the music!  So, here’s the Carter family song (lyrics below):

 

Oh, my loving mother, when the world’s on fire
Don’t you want God’s bosom to be your pillow
Tide me over in the Rock of Ages
Rock of Ages cleft for me

I’m going to heaven when the world’s on fire
And I want God’s bosom to be my pillow
Tide me over in the Rock of Ages
Rock of Ages cleft for me

Oh, my loving brother, when the world’s on fire
Don’t you want God’s bosom to be your pillow
Tide me over in the Rock of Ages
Rock of Ages cleft for me

Oh, my loving sinner, when the world’s on fire
Don’t you want God’s bosom to be your pillow
Tide me over in the Rock of Ages
Rock of Ages cleft for me

Don’t you want to go to heaven when the world’s on fire
Don’t you want God’s bosom to be your pillow
Tide me over in the Rock of Ages
Rock of Ages cleft for me

The line, “Rock of Ages cleft for me” rings familiar, but I had to go to Google to find out why.  It’s a hymn, which I now realize I occasionally sang in my father’s church when I was growing up. 

Here’s a rendition of the hymn by Tennessee Ernie Ford.  At least pay attention to the intro, where he explains the hymn’s history:

 

Here’s a Wiki picture of the original Rock of Ages, where Rev. Toplady found shelter in a “cleft” in the rock:

When I think about Tennessee Ernie Ford, I think about his most famous song, “Sixteen Tons.”  It struck me that this song (written in the 1940s)  was a song that Woody Guthrie might have sung.  A little bit of internet research showed that Woody did in fact sing it but I couldn’t find any audio.

Tennessee Ernie didn’t write the song; Merle Travis did, so I’ll present Merle’s version (lyrics below):

 

Some people say a man is made outta’ mud
A poor man’s made outta’ muscle and blood
Muscle and blood and skin and bones
A mind that’s a-weak and a back that’s strong

You load sixteen tons, what do you get?
Another day older and deeper in debt
Saint Peter don’t you call me ’cause I can’t go
I owe my soul to the company store

I was born one mornin’ when the sun didn’t shine
I picked up my shovel and I walked to the mine
I loaded sixteen tons of number 9 coal
And the straw boss said “Well, a-bless my soul”

You load sixteen tons, what do you get?
Another day older and deeper in debt
Saint Peter, don’t you call me ’cause I can’t go
I owe my soul to the company store

I was born one mornin’, it was drizzlin’ rain
Fightin’ and trouble are my middle name
I was raised in the canebrake by an ol’ mama lion
Cain’t no-a high-toned woman make me walk the line

You load sixteen tons, what do you get?
Another day older and deeper in debt
Saint Peter, don’t you call me ’cause I can’t go
I owe my soul to the company store

If you see me comin’, better step aside
A lotta men didn’t, a lotta men died
One fist of iron, the other of steel
If the right one don’t a-get you, then the left one will

You load sixteen tons, what do you get?
Another day older and deeper in debt
Saint Peter, don’t you call me ’cause I can’t go
I owe my soul to the company store

Moving right along.  You may have forgotten by now, but the town of Clearview is titular.  Here’s a short You Tube video about the town that tells all you need to know.

 

I’ll close with this GE pic by Gary Smallwood of downtown Pharoah:

 

That’ll do it . . .

KS

Greg

 

© 2018 A Landing A Day

 

 

 

 

 

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Argonia, Kansas (Revisited)

Posted by graywacke on March 26, 2018

First timer?  In this formerly once-a-day blog (and now pretty much a once-every-four-or-five days blog), I use an app that provides 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 or towns 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) please see “About Landing” above.  To check out some recent changes in how I do things, check out “About Landing (Revisited).”

Landing number 2394; A Landing A Day blog post number 828.

Dan:  Today’s lat/long (37o 13.871’N, 97o 54.045’W) puts me in south central Kansas:

And my local landing map:

My streams-only map shows that I landed in the watershed of Sand Ck; on to the Chikasia River (3rd hit):

Zooming back:

The Chikasia flows to the Salt Fork of the Arkansas (13th hit); on to the Arkansas 131st hit).  Although not shown, we all know (don’t we, class?) that the Arkansas discharges to the MM (929th hit).

I was able to put the Orange Dude quite close to my landing.  The GoogleMobile was wandering around dirt roads!

And here’s what he sees:

The Orange Dude ambled north a couple of hundred yards to look at the unnamed tributary that carries my runoff:

And here’s the very culvert that carries my runoff safely under the dirt road:

Sand Creek is close by:

And here’s a look see:

Lovely spot!

Moving right along . . . as you likely suspected based on the “Revisited” in the post’s title, I’ve been to Argonia before.  In April of 2009, I landed east of (and featured) Argonia.  I’ll borrow a little from that post (in italics) and then add some updates:

So, as you can see in the above picture, America’s first woman mayor was in Argonia.

[Here comes a quote that I didn’t reference back in 2009.  I don’t think it was Wiki; it was probably a local web site – but I couldn’t find it this time around]:

Susanna M Salter

Susanna Madora “Dora” Salter (1860-1961), U.S. politician. On April 4, 1887, at the tender age of 27, she was elected as mayor of Argonia, Kansas, becoming the first woman elected as mayor in the United States.  Not only that, she was the first woman elected to any significant political office in the United States.  Following her term as mayor, she moved to Oklahoma in 1893 after acquiring land on the Cherokee Strip, and later moved to Norman, Oklahoma, where she died at the age of 101.

Wow. Very cool landing spot, enabling me to honor the first U.S. woman elected to any political position. And, she lived to be 101, which was an incredible rarity back in the day. 

Anyway, here’s another interesting fact:  There’s only one Argonia in the entire world.  How about that! 

So, here’s a picture of “Dora” Salter:

And this is her house in Argonia:

Back to now. So, I found a little more about Ms. Salter.  From Wiki (and pay attention!):

Salter was elected mayor of Argonia on April 4, 1887.  Her election was a surprise because her name had been placed on a slate of candidates as a prank by a group of men against women in politics hoping to secure a loss that would humiliate women and discourage them from running.

[Wow.  Great stuff . . .]

Because candidates did not have to be made public before election day, Salter herself did not know she was on the ballot before the polls opened.

When, on election day itself, she agreed to accept office if elected, the Women’s Christian Temperance Union abandoned its own preferred candidate and voted for Salter en masse.

Additionally, the local Republican Party Chairman [Republicans were the liberals back then] sent a delegation to her home and confirmed that she would serve and the Republicans agreed to vote for her, helping to secure her election by a two-thirds majority.

[Way to go, Dora!]

One of the first city council meetings over which the newly elected Mrs. Salter presided was attended by a correspondent of the New York Sun. He wrote his story, describing the mayor’s dress and hat, and pointing out that she presided with great decorum. He noted that several times she checked irrelevant discussion, demonstrating that she was a good parliamentarian.

Other publicity extended to newspapers as faraway as Sweden and South Africa.  As compensation for her year’s service, she was paid one dollar. After only a year in office, she declined to seek reelection.

There you have it.

And, from the town website:

Argonia, incorporated in 1885, was named for the Argonauts of Greek legend, a band of heroes with whom Jason set out to fetch the Golden Fleece in the ship Argo.

My knowledge of Greek mythology is nil, so I looked up Jason and the Argonauts, the good ship Argo, and the Golden Fleece.

Yikes.  Wiki goes on and on and on, and I must admit, my eyes just blurred over.  So, I’ll keep this very short.  From Wiki:

The Argonauts were a band of heroes in Greek mythology, who in the years before the Trojan War, around 1300 BC, were led by Jason in his quest to find the Golden Fleece. Their name comes from their ship, Argo, named after its builder, Argus. “Argonauts” literally means “Argo sailors”.

The Golden Fleece is the fleece of the gold-haired winged ram and is a symbol of authority and kingship. It figures in the tale of the hero Jason and his crew of Argonauts, who set out on a quest for the fleece by order of King Pelias, in order to place Jason rightfully on the throne of Iolcus in Thessaly.

Through the help of Medea, they acquire the Golden Fleece. The story is of great antiquity and was current in the time of Homer (eighth century BC).

See what I mean?

Here are a couple of images of artists’ concept of the Golden Fleece:

 

So, I’ll close with this shot of the Chikaksia River, east of my landing by Ken Clay:

That’ll do it . . .

KS

Greg

 

© 2018 A Landing A Day

 

 

 

 

 

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Dell City, Texas

Posted by graywacke on March 21, 2018

First timer?  In this formerly once-a-day blog (and now pretty much a once-every-four-or-five days blog), I use an app that provides 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 or towns 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) please see “About Landing” above.  To check out some recent changes in how I do things, check out “About Landing (Revisited).”

Landing number 2393; A Landing A Day blog post number 827.

Dan:  Today’s lat/long (31o 56.967’N, 105o 34.247’W) puts me in far west Texas:

My local landing map shows my titular town and its proximity to El Paso:

StreetAtlas showed me nothing about drainage, so I had to go to Google Earth (GE).  I could following the drainage pathways east towards Dell City, and then to a dry lake bed just east of Dell City:

I thought to myself, “Self, maybe there’s a USGS topographic map that identifies my landing watershed.  Let me check.”

So, self went to mytopo.com, et voila!  I found my landing location based on my proximity to “Double Mills Tank:”

How did I know about Double Mills Tank?  Well, here’s a GE shot that shows my landing’s proximity to that very feature!

And a close-up of the tank, which, as you can see, is a small man-made pond):

Anyway, here’s a zoomed out topo map showing that the drainage near the tank ends up in Washburn Draw:

Shifting our gaze to the east:

Washburn Draw peters out in the flats around Dell City.  As a geologist, I’ll speculate about this observation as follows:  When any water makes its way out of the hills, it enters the flats, which are highly-permeable (coarse) sediments that have washed down from the hills through the eons.  So, the runoff water hits the flats, and sinks in.  The drainage channels disappear.

Using the GE elevation tool, I found a slight dip in the north-south road through Dell City where, I figured, on very rare occasions, water from my landing would flow.  So, I put the Orange Dude there:

He doesn’t see much, but here ‘tis (looking east):

The lowest elevation anywhere around is “Linda Lake,” shown on the above topo map.  As you might suspect, it’s pretty much always a salt flat; no water.  But photographer William L. Giles snapped this photo (posted on Flickr) after a major rain:

And Bill had this to say about the photo:

The Guadalupe Mountain Salt Flats are a remnant of an ancient, shallow lake that once occupied this area during the Pleistocene Epoch, approximately 1.8 million years ago. Salt collected here as streams drained mineral-laden water into this basin.

The basin, called a fault graben, formed about 26 million years ago as faulting lifted the Guadalupe Mountains and depressed the adjacent block of the Earth’s crust. At the end of the last ice age, approximately 10,000 years ago, the lake dried up as the climate became more arid.

Mineral content in the ground imparts a beautiful turquoise tint to the rain water that collects in the basin.

Here’s a shot of the mountains across the more-usual salt flats (a Flickr shot by Alan Cressler):

By the way, I’ll have more about the Guadalupe mountains in a bit.  But now its time for Dell City.  I found a great write-up in TexasEscapes.com, which is based on an interview with Gene Lutrick, president of the Dell City Chamber of Commerce:

In 1947, men came looking for oil and discovered a large reservoir of good quality underground water. Developers from Austin and Midland immediately got busy promoting the town.

When we asked who Mr. Dell might have been, Mr. Lutrick asked if we were familiar with the nursery song “The Farmer in the Dell”. There was no Mr. Dell – it’s Dell as in “a small, secluded, usually forested valley.” Just forget the part about the forest.

Eager to put the water to use, the developers planted 200 acres of cotton. This was great news for the local rabbits who ate all but 14 acres of it; farmers started planting alfalfa to keep the rabbits occupied. Today, onions, tomatoes, sweet grapes and chili peppers are grown.

Reports on wildlife include abundant deer and antelope. We asked Mr. Lutrick about buffalo (roaming or otherwise) and he said that there were none in Dell City. He did say that he has, on occasion, heard a discouraging word. We didn’t ask what it was.

I suspect that most of my readers were tuned into the “Home, Home on the Range” references in the above paragraph.  But just in case, here’s a You Tube video of the song, performed of (by all people) Neil Young.  I love Neil, but this is pretty bad . . .

The classic versions of the song are by Roy Rodgers and another by Gene Autry.  And yes, they’re better than Neil’s version.

So, about the Guadalupe Mountains.  During a Lafayette College geology field trip (spring 1972), we visited these mountains, specifically the prominent peak known as El Capitan:

Here’s a Wiki shot of the peak:

And this, from the top:

And this, taken in 1889:

Anyway, to this day, I am able to remember that El Capitan is a “Permian Reef Complex.”   “Permian” is its age – about 300 million years old.  And yes, it’s an ancient reef that was formed (of course) below sea level.  As you might suspect, there’s a complex geologic history (that I won’t go into) about how a reef that starts out below sea level ends up being a mountain in West Texas . . .

A sidebar:  I remember that we all climbed a hill just off the main road near El Capitan.  Being college kids and all, I remember laughing about how the hill looked like a woman’s breast.  Well, thanks to Google Earth and Street View, I was able to revisit the spot.

First, this overview:

Then, this low-angle shot:

And finally, this Street View shot from a side road:

See what I mean?

I have another distinct memory – that I found a very cool, very funky rock on the side of that very hill.  I kept it, and have it to this day.  I just went down into the basement where I have a plastic bin of collected rocks, and there it was.  So, I brought it upstairs and snapped a couple of pictures on my dining room table:

The Mike’s Hard Lemonade bottle cap is for scale . . .

Here’s an angled shot, with the bottle cap doing double duty as a prop to keep the rock upright:

Is this a cool rock or what?!?  I have no idea how this rock formed – and as I recall, neither did my geology professors!

I’ll close with this GE picture of “salt basin dunes” (near Linda Lake) by Jean-Claude Linossi, with the Guadalupe Mountains in the background:

That’ll do it . . .

KS

Greg

 

© 2018 A Landing A Day

 

 

 

 

 

 

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McIntosh, Leroy, Jackson and Saint Stephen, Alabama

Posted by graywacke on March 16, 2018

First timer?  In this formerly once-a-day blog (and now pretty much a once-every-four-or-five days blog), I use an app that provides 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 or towns 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) please see “About Landing” above.  To check out some recent changes in how I do things, check out “About Landing (Revisited).”

Landing number 2392; A Landing A Day blog post number 826.

Dan:  Today’s lat/long (31o 17.998’N, 88o 0.998’W) puts me in southwest Alabama:

I suspect that approximately zero of my readers noted that the last three digits of my random latitude are exactly the same as the last three digits of my random longitude.  See the .998? 

Moving right along to my local landing map:

I found at least a minor hook with each of the four highlighted towns. But before checking them out, here’s my watershed map:

As you can see, I landed in the watershed of good ol’ Stream Perennial, to the Tombigbee River (9th hit).  Although not shown, just a little ways downstream, the Tombigbee hooks up with the Alabama River to form the Mobile (24th hit) – and on to Mobile Bay.

I don’t get a good Google Earth (GE) Street View (SV) look at my landing, but I can look at the little road upon which I landed:

And here’s the SV shot of the little road:

I couldn’t get the Orange Dude (OD) to take a look at the Stream Perennial, but of course, he could get a look at the Tombigbee.  I was shocked as I saw this image:

. . . until I realized that this bridge is just downstream from where the Alabama River and the Tombigbee come together to form the Mobile . . .

Here’s a look upstream:

This bridge is part of a system of bridges about 6 miles long crossing the flood plain of the Mobile River:

So I have some minor tidbits for each of my four titular towns.  Since it’s the closest, I’ll start with McIntosh.  From Wiki:

McIntosh is near the site of Aaron Burr’s arrest in 1807. A historic marker has been placed to document this event.

What the heck; here’s a little Aaron Burr (mostly taken from Wiki) for you to chew on:

  • He was the third U.S. Vice President, serving under Thomas Jefferson
  • In 1804, the last full year of his single term as vice president, Burr shot his political rival Alexander Hamilton in a famous duel.
  • The two had been locked in a bitter political feud for years, and eventually agreed to the duel.
  • They were both in NY City, but rowed across the Hudson to Weehawken NJ (anti-dueling laws were less enforced in NJ than in NY).
  • It was common for both principals in a duel to fire a shot at the ground to exemplify courage, and then the duel could come to an end.
  • However, it likely that Hamilton fired first, but intentionally missed Burr.
  • The bullet hit a tree above and behind Burr.
  • Burr knew that a projectile from Hamilton’s gun had whizzed past him and crashed into the tree to his rear.
  • According to the principles of the code duello, Burr was perfectly justified in taking deadly aim at Hamilton and firing to kill.
  • Hamilton was mortally wounded by the shot in his lower abdomen; he was taken back to NY where he died the next day.
  • Burr was charged for murder in both NY and NJ.
  • Burr fled to South Carolina, where his daughter lived with her family, but soon returned to Philadelphia and then to Washington to complete his term as Vice President.
  • He avoided New York and New Jersey for a time, but all the charges against him were eventually dropped. In the case of New Jersey, the indictment was thrown out on the basis that, although Hamilton was shot in New Jersey, he died in New York.
  • What happened next is confusing (at best) and tedious/boring at worst (this is me talking). The bottom line is that he traveled to Louisiana involving some land deal, made some arrangements with some local militia, and ended up being charged with conspiracy (and treason) by President Jefferson.
  • He was arrested near my landing!
  • He was tried, but acquitted; he lived in NY until his death in 1833.

My next three towns are clustered a few miles north of my landing.  I’ll start with Leroy, home of portrait artist Simmie Knox.  He is best known as the painter of the official Bill Clinton presidential portrait.  From Wiki:

Simmie Knox was born in 1935 in Aliceville, Alabama to Simmie Knox Sr., a carpenter and mechanic, and Amelia Knox.  At a young age Simmie’s parents divorced and he was sent to live with his aunt and uncle on their sharecropper farm with his eight cousins in Leroy.

At age 13 he was hit in the eye by a baseball while playing a game, and it was suggested that drawing would aid his recovery. His segregated school did not have an art program, but the Catholic nuns who taught him recognized his talent and found someone to teach him.

He attended Central High School in Mobile.  Subsequently, Knox studied at Delaware State College while working in a textile factory. He then enrolled at Tyler School of Art, Pennsylvania, where he attained his masters degree.

Comedian Bill Cosby is credited with raising his profile in the 1990s when Knox was commissioned to paint 12 members of the Cosby family.  He subsequently painted notable figures such as Muhammad Ali, and Supreme Court Justices Thurgood Marshall and Ruth Bader Ginsburg, before coming to the attention of the White House.

In 2000 he was selected to create a portrait of President Bill Clinton, becoming the first black American painter to paint an official portrait of an American president.  The paintings of Bill and Hillary Clinton took two years to complete and are hanging in the White House’s East Wing.

He has painted dozens (hundreds?) of portraits both official (government-sponsored) and private.

Here are a few of his more famous portraits:

And this cool one of Hank Aaron and his parents:

 

Moving over to Jackson.  This Wiki piece caught my eye:

During World War II, a prisoner-of-war camp was built and operated that held 253 captured German soldiers.  Many of the prisoners were members of the Afrika Korps.

“Afrika Korps” was Wiki-clickable, so click I did (starting with their creepily-cartoonish logo):

The Afrika Korps (German: Deutsches Afrikakorps) was the German expeditionary force in Africa during the North African Campaign of World War II. First sent as a holding force to shore up the Italian defense of their African colonies, the formation fought on in Africa from March 1941 until its surrender in May 1943. The unit’s best known commander was Field Marshal Erwin Rommel (“The Desert Fox.”)

And here’s a shot of some German military hardware in the desert:

I certainly can’t tell their nationality . . .

In 1940, the Brits routed the Italians based in Libya, an Italian Colony.  Hitler sent Rommel to shore up the Italians, and stop the Brits, which he did.  But as time went on, the tide turned for the Germans.  From Wiki:

The remnants of the Afrika Korps and surviving units of the 1st Italian Army retreated into Tunisia. In May 1943, the Afrika Korps surrendered, along with all other remaining Axis forces in North Africa.

And some of the Afrika Korps ended up in Jackson, Alabama . . .

Now we’ll head upriver to Saint Stephen.  FYI, “Old Saint Stephen” was right on the Tombigbee River.  Based on railroad availability, the current Saint Stephen “New Saint Stephen” was located a few miles east of the river.  Old Saint Stephen exists only as a historic park.

From Wiki:

Old St. Stephens was situated on a limestone bluff that the Native Americans called Hobucakintopa, at the fall line along the Tombigbee River where rocky shoals forced the end of navigation for boats traveling north from Mobile, 67 miles to the south.

As early as 1772, British surveyor Bernard Romans noted that “sloops and schooners may come up to this rapid; therefore, I judge some considerable settlement will take place.”

Notice the phrase “fall line?”  In the eastern US, the fall line designates the line separating hard bedrock formations from the younger, unconsolidated sediments that make up the coastal plain.  Here’s a USGS shot (the Piedmont Plateau is much older bedrock):

As in Saint Stephen, the fall line was identified as a spot for development because ships couldn’t go further upriver, and needed a port to off-load cargo ships and transfer the cargo to land-based transport.  Here’s a Wiki-list of Fall Line Cities:

Watertown, Massachusetts (Charles River)
Lowell, Massachusetts (Merrimack River)
Hartford, Connecticut (Connecticut River)
Fall River, Massachusetts (Quequechan River)
Bangor, Maine (Penobscot River)
Augusta, Maine (Kennebec River)
Rochester NY (Genesee River)
Pawtucket, Rhode Island (Blackstone River)
Trenton, New Jersey, on the Delaware River
Paterson, New Jersey, on the Passaic River
Conowingo MD (Susquehanna Riveer)
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, on the Schuylkill River
Wilmington, Delaware, on Brandywine Creek
Baltimore, MD, on Jones Falls, Gunpowder Falls and Gwynns Falls
Washington, D.C., on the Potomac River
Fredericksburg, Virginia, on the Rappahannock River
Hanover, Virginia, on the North Anna River
Richmond, Virginia, on the James River
Petersburg, Virginia, on the Appomattox River
Weldon, NC and Roanoke Rapids NC on the Roanoke River
Rocky Mount, North Carolina, on the Tar River
Raleigh, North Carolina, on the Neuse River
Fayetteville, North Carolina, on the Cape Fear River
Camden, South Carolina, on the Wateree River
Columbia, South Carolina, on the Congaree River
Augusta, Georgia, on the Savannah River
Milledgeville, Georgia, on the Oconee River
Macon, Georgia, on the Ocmulgee River
Columbus, Georgia, on the Chattahoochee River
Tallassee, Alabama, on the Tallapoosa River
Wetumpka, Alabama, on the Coosa River
Tuscaloosa, Alabama, on the Black Warrior River

Hmm.  Don’t see Saint Stephen on the Mobile River.  Strange that it didn’t take off . . .

Speaking of Saint Stephen, here’s GE shot of the limestone bluffs at Old Saint Stephen, by Ryan Beverly:

I’ll close with this GE shot from a few miles west of my landing (by Jan Bowen):

 

That’ll do it . . .

KS

Greg

 

© 2018 A Landing A Day

 

 

 

 

 

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Syracuse, Nebraska

Posted by graywacke on March 10, 2018

First timer?  In this formerly once-a-day blog (and now pretty much a once-every-four-or-five days blog), I use an app that provides 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 or towns 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) please see “About Landing” above.  To check out some recent changes in how I do things, check out “About Landing (Revisited).”

Landing number 2391; A Landing A Day blog post number 825.

Dan:  Today’s lat/long (40o 46.805’N, 96o 0.816’W) puts me in southeast Nebraska (aka SE NE):

My local landing map shows that I’m in the midst of the usual VP* of small towns (pop less, often way less than 1,000), with a larger one (Nebraska City, pop 7,300) thrown in:

*Veritable Plethora

As you can tell by the title of this post (and the red oval), there was one & only one big winner.

Here’s my watershed analysis:

I landed in the watershed of the South Branch of Weeping Water Creek, on to the Weeping Water Creek, on to the Missouri River (425th hit).  The Mighty Mo makes its way to the Mighty Miss (928th hit).

I’ve got good Google Earth (GE) Street View coverage of my landing:

And here’s what the Orange Dude sees:

I sent him down the road a piece to get a look at the South Branch of Weeping Water Creek:

And here’s what the OD sees:

Of course, I checked out all of the towns shown on my local landing map.  After an exhaustive search, I ended up with only Syracuse.  OK.  So, there’s practically nothing to say about Syracuse.  From Wiki:

The community was named after Syracuse, New York.

So, what about Syracuse NY?  From Wiki:

Syracuse was named after the original Greek city Syracuse, a city on the eastern coast of the Italian island of Sicily.

So what about Syracuse Sicily?  From Wiki:

Syracuse was founded in 734 or 733 BC by Greek settlers from Corinth and Tenea.   A possible origin of the city’s name is that there was a nearby marsh called Syrako.  A variant of Syrako was “Syracuse.”

The nucleus of the ancient city was the small island of Ortygia. The ancient Greek settlers found the land fertile and the native tribes to be reasonably well-disposed to their presence. The city grew and prospered, and for some time stood as the most powerful Greek city anywhere in the Mediterranean.

Here’s the city as a whole:

And the ancient portion of the city, the island of Ortygia – what looks like the peninsula in the above photo.  Here’s a GE close-up:

Syracuse is a very cool old town.  I’ll do a little photo tour, starting with the Roman Amphitheater (GE photo by Tancredi Landi):

The amphitheater is not in Ortygia, but all of the remaining shots are.

Here’s a GE photo by Lady K:

:

And this, from a GE 360 shot:

Here’s a lovely waterfront café (from GE Street View):

There is a maze of incredibly narrow “streets”  in Ortygia.  Here’s a typical GE Street View shot:

There’s a wonderful plaza there – Piazzo Duomo. Here’s a Street View shot:

And a shot of the Catholic Church in the Piazzo by Tomas Posvai:

Staying in the Piazzo, here are a couple of shots captured in GE 360s:

The silver dude’s very cool, but not permanent.  And how about the woman with her leg up and clapping?  I love it.

I’d love to have the time, flexibility (and money) to hang out in Syracuse for a while . . .

I thought I needed to head back to Nebraska – so I scanned the GE photos near my landing.  Hmmmm.  Not much to choose from, but I settled on this, by Bluegrass Playgrounds:

That’ll do it . . .

KS

Greg

 

© 2018 A Landing A Day

 

 

 

 

 

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Equinunk, Pennsylvania

Posted by graywacke on February 25, 2018

First timer?  In this formerly once-a-day blog (and now pretty much a once-every-four-or-five days blog), I use an app that provides 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 or towns 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) please see “About Landing” above.  To check out some recent changes in how I do things, check out “About Landing (Revisited).”

Landing number 2390; A Landing A Day blog post number 824.

Dan:  Today’s lat/long (41o 50.038’N, 75o 16.625’W) puts me in NE Pennsylvania:

Here’s my local landing map:

My streams-only map shows that I landed in the watershed of Kinneyville Ck, on to Equinunk Ck; on to the Delaware River (9th hit):

So, water from my landing location eventually makes its way down the beautiful Delaware River, through the Delaware Water Gap, past Belvidere (my Mom’s home town where I used to swim in the river at the town beach), past Easton (home of Lafayette College, of which I am an alum), past Frenchtown, Stockton, Lambertville, New Hope, Yardley, Morrisville & Trenton (various towns along the river near Pennington NJ, where I currently reside).

JFTHOI* here’s a map showing the 413 landings since January 2013 (when a hard drive crash necessitated downloading a new version of GE that wiped clean my “placemarks” that show my landing locations).

*Just for the heck of it.

Here’s a close-up showing my four Pennsylvania landings (including today’s landing):

Peculiar, isn’t it, that the Landing God obiously favors northeast Pennsylvania? 

Staying with GE, here’s a map that shows where the Orange Dude can get a look at the Equinunk Creek:

And here’s what he sees:

Heading upstream to near Hancock NY, here’s a shot of the East Branch of the Delaware River (looking upstream):

And looking downstream:

JFTHOI,  here’s the view from the Belvidere bridge over the Delaware.  I’ve walked across this bridge countless times, and enjoyed this upstream view likewise countless times:

I mentioned the Belvidere public “beach” above.  It was there on the opposite (Pennsylvania) shore.  I think that the “beach” was closed some time in the 60s . . .

So.  I’ll present my local landing map again:

Of course I checked out each town on the map.  Guess what?  This region is entirely:

This area is so hookless, I need to do it again!

As long time regulars know, even when I complain about the hookless nature of my landing, I somehow manage to find something to write about. 

Well, there’s a first time for everything.  I HAVE NOTHING TO SAY ABOUT ANY LOCAL TOWNS, LOCAL PERSONALITIES, LOCAL HISTORY, LOCAL GEOLOGY or LOCAL STREAMS.

I needed a titular town, so I picked Equinunk for two reasons – it was close to my landing, and I liked the name. 

So what the heck.  I’ll totally digress and talk a little about some of the details of my landing spreadsheet.

Here’s the nuts and bolts part of my spreadsheet:

Notes:

  1. In the first column, you can see that this is landing 2390.
  2. In the second column, you can see that I have 174 landings since I changed how I calculate my random lat/longs.
  3. In the fourth column is my Score, based on all 2390 landings. See “About Landings (Revisited)” to learn about my Score.
  4. In the fifth column is my Score, based on my last 174 landings.
  5. In the sixth column is my original Score after my very first 174 landings. (Go figure.  Why was my Score so much lower after my first 174 landings than after my latest 174 landings?  Only the Landing God knows).
  6. In the seventh column is the difference between these two Scores.
  7. Eighth and ninth columns: random latitude, random longitude
  8. Tenth column: the altitude of my landing (feet above sea level)
  9. Then, landing location, and
  10. Watershed analysis, and
  11. Number of streams encountered.

Just a quick word about items 4 and 5.  As discussed in About Landings (Revisited), my long time method for calculating random lat/longs was flawed while my new method (for the last 174 landings) is truly random.  One would think that truly random lat/longs would result in a lower Score.  Oh well . . .

Here’s the portion of the spreadsheet where I keep track of my landings that are outside of the lower 48 (aka “Try Agains”):

Here’s where I keep track of the number of landings in the various states (obviously for all 2390 landings):

Notes:

  1. The “First Landing” column shows the landing number when I first landed in a particular state.
  2. I’ve never landed in Delaware! In my world, that’s the only red state!
  3. Blue states are those where I’ve landed in my last 174 landings. Black states are those I have yet to land in my last 174.
  4. I total the number of landings, and have the spreadsheet perform a calculation so that I know that I’ve tracked the same number of watersheds.
  5. The spreadsheet also tells me the number of different river watersheds in which I’ve landed.

Here’s the upper portion of the watershed tracking portion of my spreadsheet:

As you can see, I look at six fundamental watersheds:

  1. The Mississippi (not counting the Missouri): 503 hits
  2. The Missouri: 424 hits
  3. The Atlantic Ocean: 390 hits
  4. Gulf Coast rivers (not counting the Mississippi): 347 hits
  5. The Pacific Ocean: 463 hits
  6. Internally-drained: 263 hits

Hopefully, it’s intuitively obvious how I list my watersheds.  For example, I’ve landed in the Beaver River watershed 8 times.  It flows into the North Canadian River (18 hits); which flows into the Canadian River (49 hits); which flows into the Arkansas River (130 hits).

JFTHOI, here are screen shots that show all of my watershed entries (obviously, feel free to skim)

 

 

 

If you paid any attention at all, you may have noticed that the Atlantic Ocean watersheds ended up with the most entries.

I also have my spreadsheet plot each of my 2390 landings on a blank background.  Here’s what it looks like:

It may not look like 2390 dots, but they’re all there . . .

Enough already.  Here’s a GE photo of the Delaware by Michael Chapman:

I’ll close with Flickr shot of the Delaware near my landing by John Penney:

That’ll do it . . .

KS

Greg

 

© 2018 A Landing A Day

 

 

 

 

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Susanville, Standish and Honey Lake, California

Posted by graywacke on February 16, 2018

First timer?  In this formerly once-a-day blog (and now pretty much a once-every-four-or-five days blog), I use an app that provides 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 or towns 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) please see “About Landing” above.  To check out some recent changes in how I do things, check out “About Landing (Revisited).”

Landing number 2389; A Landing A Day blog post number 823.

Dan:  Today’s lat/long (40o 13.417’N, 120o 28.783’W) puts me in NE California:

Here’s my local landing map:

I won’t bother with a streams-only map, because guess what?  Water that flows into Honey Lake doesn’t go anywhere!  It either evaporates or sinks in . . .

Jumping right to Google Earth (GE), here’s a an oblique shot showing my landing in the hills above Honey Lake:

Here’s another GE shot that shows the Orange Dude standing where the unnamed “stream” that flows from my landing crosses under a road just before making its way into Honey Lake:

Here’s the downstream view:

The upstream view does double duty, giving us a landing shot as well:

I’ll start with a little (very little) about Susanville (pop 18,000).  It turns out that the main economic engine for the area are three prisons – two State, one Federal.  From Wiki:

The prisons and their effects on the community, including the provision of much needed jobs, were explored in the documentary, Prison Town, USA (2007), aired on PBS.  Nearly half the adult population of Susanville works at the three prisons in the area where 11,000 people are incarcerated.

I found a couple of back-in-the day shots.  First this, of Main Street Susanville in 1894:

And then this, also of Main Street, taken in the year of my birth (1950):

Boy, does that picture make me feel old . . .

Now I’ll move a few miles southeast for a quick look at Standish.  From Wiki:

Standish was established in the 1890s, as a development of the Associated Colonies of New York, whose job was to “create utopian communities in the West”.   As a part of this project, Standish was designed based on the beliefs of Myles Standish, and the economic structure was designed under the ideas promoted by Mormon leader Brigham Young.

The design of the town was supposed to model European communities which had the majority of residents leaving the village during the day in order to work in the nearby fields.

A 240-acre site was chosen to build the town in 1898, and the Colonial Irrigation Company of the Honey Lake Valley was incorporated in order to irrigate water for the crops.

However, legal problems with the system and water rights caused delay in its operation and the development of Standish; after several legal battles, the courts placed restraints on their irrigation rights.  In 1905, the courts ordered the auction of the Colonial Irrigation Company.

And that was that.

So, who was Myles Standish?  He was a career military man who joined up with the Pilgrims seeking religious freedom in America.  He took on a leadership role for the Pilgrims once they set up their colony in Plymouth MA.  He led negotiations with Indians, and also defended the colony from hostile Indian attacks. 

He helped negotiate the “Mayflower Compact,” which was necessary because about half of the 104 Mayflower passengers were religious (the “Saints”), and about half weren’t (the “Strangers”).  The Compact was their agreement about how to coexist and therefore survive.

He’s always pictured with this fru-fru collar:

But he was a tough guy, and was actually honored as “Badass of the Week,” by baddassoftheweek.com.

So what I really want to talk about is Honey Lake. It turns out that I landed near Honey Lake back in March 2009, so I’ll be borrowing some from that earlier post.

Anyway, Honey lake is dry most of the time (like when the GE aerial shot was taken).  Although, during a particularly rainy season, it has water.  From TIPurdy.org, this 1987 shot:

I’m sure local boaters are very excited when the lake fills up!

Way back around 13,000 years ago (during the height of the latest Ice Age), what is today Honey Lake was a part of a huge lake system known as Lake Lohontan:

Honey Lake is just above the word “Pyramid.”

The lake covered an area of 8,500 square miles, and had a maximum depth of 900 feet at Pyramid Lake.  The lake was nearly 400 feet deep at Honey Lake. 

The Maidu Indians lived on the shores of the Lake.  From the Honey Lake Maidu website:

The Northeastern Maidu, also known as the Mountain Maidu, lived (and still live) around a series of mountain valleys.

For subsistence, the Maidu depended primarily on acorns, seeds berries, and roots, as well as on deer, pronghorn, wild fowl, and fish.

At one time, the Maidu possessed a rich and complex oral tradition that began with the contest between Earthmaker (K’odojapem) and Coyote (Wepam wajsim) at creation and following the flood.

In his studies of Maidu oral tradition, one researcher found “a complete absence, apparently, of any sort of migration legend; all portions of the stock declaring emphatically that they originated precisely in their present homes.”

Here’s a picture of some Maidu folks back in the day:

Here’s the beginning of the oral Maidu creation story, as told by Leona Morales.  Leona told the story before she died in 1985:

I am Leona Morales and I want to tell you a story that my old people told me.

I was born in 1900 and I know a lot of my old people. My mother (Roxie Peconom) told me the story about a Maker who made this world. They called him Kodomyeponi. The Maidu called him that. My aunt told me stories about it as did my uncle. So I pieced the stories together and I think I got it just about down pat.

I’ll tell the story about the Maker, the man that made this world. He said one day – I don’t know what time it was – the birds and the flowers and even the brooks were singing. Even the little animals were so happy, dancing around. This is the story that was told to me. They were just singing, even the brooks were singing, trees were swaying, and the leaves were dancing in the trees. They were so happy. They saw a bright light in the west and said, “That’s what the old one told us. When we see the bright light in the west, he says, He’s coming. He’s coming. He’s going to make this world right.”

For his people, the old one told us that one day He would come. Now, I don’t know what the old one was, but that’s the way the story goes. Oh, he said, the birds were singing, everybody was just so happy because they had seen the light in the west. A real bright light, kept getting brighter and brighter. It seems like it started from Quincy way. Here was this man. He had a light over his head. He was walking.  He had a cane.

There’s much more, and it’s very cool.   Click HERE to read the rest of the creation story (and more about the Honey Lake Maidu).

A quick aside.  I signed the Honey Lake Maidu website guestbook back in 2009:

And I signed it again for this post:

I’m ready to close things down for this post, and would generally checkout the GE Panoramio shots.  As I noted in a recent post, Panoramio is no more, although the photo icons are still posted on GE (but with no photos).  Here’s a GE shot showing the small blue Pano icons, and the larger circle icons for the new photos:

Ouch. There’s maybe a hundred Pano shots, but just a handfull of new photos.  Oh, well.

I checked out the few photos around my landing, and found none post-worthy.  But I found this 1997 Honey Lake shot from the same site that posted the sail boat photo above (TIPurdy.org):

That’ll do it . . .

KS

Greg

 

© 2018 A Landing A Day

 

 

 

 

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Blewett, Dabney and Brackettville, Texas

Posted by graywacke on February 8, 2018

First timer?  In this formerly once-a-day blog (and now pretty much a once-every-four-or-five days blog), I use an app that provides 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 or towns 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) please see “About Landing” above.  To check out some recent changes in how I do things, check out “About Landing (Revisited).”

Landing number 2388; A Landing A Day blog post number 822.

Dan:  Today’s lat/long (29o 11.258’N, 100o 2.347’W) puts me in SW Texas:

Here’s my local landing map:

My very local streams-only map shows that I landed in the watershed of Turkey Creek:

Zooming way back, trust me that Turkey Creek discharges to the Nueces River (14th hit):

I’ll start with Blewett & Dabney together, since their history and demise are closely tied together.  Both “towns” were founded due to the presence (and mining) of asphalt rock nearby.  The rock in question is actually a limestone, but it’s very rich in bitumen – a naturally-occurring asphalt.

There was a market for the stuff – it was used (not surprisingly) as a road-building material.  But the market dried up and/or the rock ran out.  Anyway, neither town exists now.  The population of each is zero.

TexasEscapes.com lumped the towns together.  Here’s an excerpt of their write-up (and some pictures):

Blewett and Dabney are easy to find – at least on the official highway Map. But finding them in person is another matter. We did see some surprisingly scenic asphalt rock pits, however:

We spoke to a Texas Department of Transportation cartographer, who said that once a city or town is incorporated – it stays incorporated until it’s officially unincorporated. Which means when a town is abandoned, the last person to leave should file un-incorporation papers with the appropriate governing body before turning out the lights.

Evidently, this didn’t happen for Blewett or Dabney.

Poor old Spofford (although it currently exists) is totally hookless.  So that leaves Brackettville – which sounds like college basketball fans should descend on the town every March.  If you don’t get my joke, don’t worry – just keep reading . . .

According to Wiki, Brackettville (pop 1900) claims to be the “drive-in movie capital of Texas.”  No hook there.  But Wiki also has this:

For many years, it was the base of the famous Buffalo Soldiers, made up of African Americans, who in the years after the Civil War, were recruited to fight in the Indian wars.

So, who were these Buffalo Soldiers?  From Wiki:

Buffalo Soldiers originally were members of the 10th Cavalry Regiment of the United States Army, formed in1866. This nickname was given to the Negro Cavalry by Native American tribes who fought in the Indian Wars.

Although not agreed upon by all scholars, it is likely that both the Apache and Comanche used the term “buffalo soldiers.”

“We called them ‘buffalo soldiers,’ because they had curly, kinky hair … like bisons.”

Some sources assert that the nickname was given out of respect for the fierce fighting ability of the 10th Cavalry.  Still other sources point to a combination of both legends.

Wiki actually presents this picture to show the kinky-haired bison:

The Buffalo Soldiers were highly-decorated, winning 23 medals of honor.

On September 6, 2005, Mark Matthews, the last living Buffalo Soldier, died at the age of 111. He was buried at Arlington National Cemetery.

Here’s an interesting aside about Brackettville, from Wiki:

Historically, Brackettville had a relatively large proportion of Black Seminoles (people of mixed African American and Seminole ancestry).  These people were recruited by the US to act as scouts for the Buffalo Soldiers and settled with their families in the town. Their language, Afro-Seminole Creole, is still spoken by some in Brackettville.

I’m certain that most of my regular readers will know what’s coming next.  Yes, Bob Marley will make an appearance!

The only unusual thing is that the video contains the lyrics, so I don’t have to copy and paste them into the post . . .

 

So.  It’s official.  After months of warnings, Google Earth has abandoned Panoramio photos.  Although the Panoramio icons still appear, the photos themselves are gone.  What is slowly replacing the Pano shots are photos that I’ll simply call Google Earth (GE) photos.  So . . .

I’ll close with a couple of GE photos of the Nueces River.  Obviously, children love to jump in the river.  First this, by Jason Hill:

And then this, by Matthew Ricks:

 

That’ll do it . . .

KS

Greg

 

© 2018 A Landing A Day

 

 

 

 

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