Chinook, Montana

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

Dan –  The curse continues with yet another western OSer . . . MT; 112/92; 1/10; 12; 155.1 (highest Score since last December).   It seems like 150 is now months away . . .

I didn’t mess around this time – I landed in the granddaddy of OSers.  Here’s my landing map:

And a broader view:

I landed in the Snake Creek watershed.  This was my 9^th “snake” watershed, meaning that “Snake” has made my list of Common Stream Names (which requires 8 watersheds; Snake should have made the list a while ago – better late than never).  Anyway, I have 4 Snake Creeks; 2 Snake Rivers (the big, famous one along with a smaller NE river) and 3 Rattlesnake Creeks.

So, Snake Creek flows to the Milk R (11^th hit); to the Missouri (353^rd hit); to the MM (750^th hit – congrats to the MM on this milestone!)

Here’s a picture of the Milk just south of Chinook (north of my landing):

Here’s my GE shot, showing a non-agricultural (prairie?) landscape:

I went to the Chinook town website and found the following charming back-in-the-day photos.  In this first shot, I can’t imagine what was going on:

I love the austere lines here:

Here’s some serious turn-of-the-century advertising:

I also found this shot, of a prairie homestead outside Chinook in 1909.  Note the caption “A Western Bachelor’s Home, Wife Wanted” :

Moving closer to my landing, here’s another landing map:

I want to draw your attention to the area east of my landing, where it says “Chief Joseph Battlefield.”  I was floored.  Only three landings ago (Joseph, Oregon) I landed in the Wallowa Valley, Chief Joseph’s home turf.  In that post, I featured the life of Chief Joseph, and discussed his final battle in Montana, where he gave his now-famous speech ending in the words “I will fight no more forever.”

Amazingly, I landed just three miles away from the site of Chief Joseph’s final battle:

Here’s an overview of the battlefield (in a dryer time of the year):

Photographer Howard Noel put together a wonderful photo essay on the “Nez Perce Trail” which documents Chief Joseph’s journey from the Wallowa Valley to his surrender just east of my landing.  I recommend that you click here to see it.

I have lifted his last photo and the caption below the photo:

On October 5, 1877, five inches of snow had fallen on this plain and Joseph, seeing the futility of continuing on, surrendered to Colonel Nelson A. Miles. These two rocks mark the place where the chief stood as he stretched out his arm and relinquished his rifle saying, “It is cold and we have no blankets. The little children are freezing to death. My people, some of them have run away to the hills and have no blankets, no food; no one knows where they are, perhaps freezing to death….Hear me, my chiefs, I am tired; my heart is sick and sad. FROM WHERE THE SUN NOW STANDS, I WILL FIGHT NO MORE FOREVER.”

I’ll close with this picture of a plaque at the battlefield site with the words (you guessed it) “I will fight no more forever.”

That’ll do it. . .

KS

Greg

© 2010 A Landing A Day

St. Croix Falls, Wisconsin

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

Dan –  The curse continues with yet another western OSer . . . WI; 38/35; 1/10; 11; 154.7.   It seems like 150 is now months away . . .

Same old story – but my more astute readers may question my audacity in including WI as a “western OSer.”  Good point.  But here’s the thing.  From WI, IA and MN west through WA and OR (with the exception, of course, of ID), the states are all OS.

Rather than discuss the distribution of OSers, I’ve made this map.  I apologize for the rough graphics.  But, as you can guess, the X’s are OSers and the O’s are USers.

You can see the general trend of many western OSers, and then all of the southern tier USers.  The unmarked states are a mixed bag (and the states are kind of small for my coarse graphics).  Anyway, all of this, to justify my calling WI a “western OSer.”

Ten of the last eleven landings have been western OSers.   Here’s the list:  WA, KS, AZ, WY, ND, AZ, OR, SD and WI.  Incidentally, the lone USer was NC (not shown with an “O” on the map, because that landing made it a PSer . . .)

So, here’s my landing map showing my proximity to St. Croix Falls and Taylors Falls MN along with the St. Croix River, which serves as the boundary between WI and MN.

Here’s a broader view:

I landed in the Big Rock Creek watershed; on, of course, to the St. Croix R (3^rd hit); on to the MM (749^th hit).

Here’s my GE shot, showing a mixed wooded, agricultural and suburban land use.  I landed right next to a house:

Here’s the StreetView (looking west) showing the driveway you’d take if you wanted to visit my landing site:

This area was all about the lumber industry back in the day.  Here’s a cool shot of an 1884 log jam on the St. Croix at Taylors Falls:

The St. Croix falls don’t exist anymore – they’ve been replaced by this dam:

Taylors Falls (downstream from the dam) aren’t much – rapids, really:

From a local website:

Taylors Falls is located adjacent St. Croix Falls, Wisconsin at the Dalles of the St. Croix River, an area of forested bluffs and high cliffs. The first interstate state park in the United States, aptly named Interstate Park, was jointly founded by the states of Minnesota and Wisconsin in 1895 and straddles the border of the two states immediately south of the city.

There’s a tourist jaunt you can take by boat to visit the Dalles.  Here’s a picture:

What’s a dalles, you might ask:

dalles

/dælz/

the rapids of a river running between the walls of a canyon or gorge. Also, dells.

Origin:
1825–35, Americanism ;  OE dæl dale

Here’s a shot of the dalles (taken just downstream from the above picture – you can see the boat dock):

I’ll close with this Panaramio shot of the river north of St. Croix Falls, near where I landed:

That’ll do it. . .

KS

Greg

© 2010 A Landing A Day

Faulkton, South Dakota

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

Dan –  The curse continues with yet another western OSer . . . SD; 51/48; 1/10; 10; 154.2.   It seems like 150 is now months away . . .

If the above two sentences sound familiar, it’s because that’s exactly what I said last landing (and what I’ll keep on saying until I break the pattern).  Here’s my landing map, showing my proximity to several small towns, the largest of which is Gettysburg (pop 1,352) followed by Faulkton (pop 785), followed by Onida (pop 740).  Seneca, Lebanon, Orient and Agar are really teeny:  pop 58, 86, 57 and 82 respectively.

Here’s a broader view:

I landed in the Medicine Ck watershed; on to the Missouri R (352nd hit); on to the MM (748th hit).

Here’s my GE shot, showing, of course, an agricultural setting:

I must admit that I had trouble finding some items of real interest in the vicinity of my landing, so here’s a little this and that.  I’ll start with the “Welcome to Gettysburg” sign:

No additional comment needed.

West of Gettysburg is the Oahe Lake, a dammed-up portion of the Missouri R (see landing map).  When they expanded the Route 212 bridge in anticipation of the coming reservoir (back in the early 1960s), little did they know that the bridge was at the location of a former landslide.  Well, the rising waters of the lake lubricated the old slip plane of the landslide, and darned if it didn’t start slipping again.  For a bunch of years, the earth at the eastern side of the bridge was moving at a rate of up to 10 inches per year.  The landslide is known as the Forest City landslide, after a small town that was inundated by the lake.

Anyway, 10 inches/year doesn’t sound like much, but give it enough years and the bridge abutments could be in trouble.  Anyway, engineers started getting nervous that the bridge would be damaged, so they had to take some serious steps.  They installed stone “columns,” removed a bunch of earth from the head of the slide area and added “shear pins” to the toe of the slide.  Son of a gun if the movement didn’t decrease to less than one-tenth of an inch/year.

Here’s a nice Panaramio picture of the bridge.  The slide area is to the left:

Moving over to Faulkton.  I found some nice old pictures of the town from the Christ and Ingeborg families page on rootsweb.ancestry.com.  Click here if you’d like to see more pictures and descriptions.

Here’s the old courthouse, from the late 1800’s.  I love the guys on the roof . . .

And, from the same era, the bank.  This crowd seems to be more formally dressed . . .

Here’s a shot of Main Street in the 1920s:

Here’s a wonderful overview photo taken at the turn of the century:

South of Faulkton is the little town of Orient.  Here’s a cool picture from the late 1800’s in Orient:

The little town of Agar just celebrated their centennial.  Part of the celebration was a trek by covered wagon:

Moving back to the Rt 212 bridge over the lake, I’ll close with another shot of the bridge.  You have to love the sign . . ..

That’ll do it. . .

KS

Greg

© 2010 A Landing A Day

Joseph, Oregon

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

Dan –  The curse continues with yet another western OSer . . . OR; 72/61; 2/10 (1/9); 9; 153.7.   It seems like 150 is now months away . . .

Anyway, here’s my landing map, showing my proximity to Joseph and Enterprise as well as Wallowa Lake (the unnamed lake just south of Joseph):

Speaking of Wallowa Lake, I landed in the watershed of the Wallowa R (2^nd hit); on to the Grande Ronde R (3^rd hit); on to the Snake (70^th hit); to the Columbia (137^th hit).  More locally, I landed in the Pine Tree Gulch watershed (my 15^th watershed with the word “Pine” in it); on to Prairie Creek (my 11^th watershed with the word “Prairie” in it).

Here’s my GE shot, showing that I landed in an arid Martian landscape:

Here’s an expanded, oblique GE shot looking SE across Wallowa Lake that shows I did not land on Mars, but rather in a lovely corner of Oregon:

Speaking of a corner of Oregon, it is the NE corner:

As already noted, I landed near the town of Joseph.  At first glance, I thought maybe Joseph was named after Joseph Smith.  Northeast Oregon is quite a ways from Salt Lake City, and I didn’t think the Mormons were big in Oregon, but who knows.  After all, I landed near Pima AZ, formerly called Smithville and named after Joseph Smith.  Pima AZ is a whopping 546 from Salt Lake City, while Joseph OR is only 418 miles away.

By the way, my thanks to the City Distance Tool on the GeoBytes website for the distance information.  While at GeoBytes, I stumbled on the fact that there is a Joseph, Utah.  Now there’s a town named after Joseph Smith!!

So, back to Joseph OR.  As you may suspect by now, it was not named after Joseph Smith.  In fact, it was named after a Chief of the Nez Perce Nation, Chief Joseph.  I found Chief Joseph to be fascinating.  I’ve done some editing, but the following is generally from Wiki:

Chief Joseph (1840 – 1904) was the chief of the Wal-lam-wat-kain (Wallowa) band of Nez Perce.  For his principled resistance to the removal of his people to a reservation, he became renowned as a humanitarian and peacemaker.

Joseph the Younger succeeded his father as chief in 1871.  Before his death, the latter counseled his son:

“My son, my body is returning to my mother earth, and my spirit is going very soon to see the Great Spirit Chief. When I am gone, think of your country. You are the chief of these people. They look to you to guide them. Always remember that your father never sold his country. You must stop your ears whenever you are asked to sign a treaty selling your home. A few years more and white men will be all around you. They have their eyes on this land. My son, never forget my dying words. This country holds your father’s body. Never sell the bones of your father and your mother.”

Chief Joseph commented “I clasped my father’s hand and promised to do as he asked. A man who would not defend his father’s grave is worse than a wild animal.”

The Nez Perce suffered many injustices at the hands of settlers and prospectors, but out of fear of reprisal from the US military, Joseph never allowed any violence against them, instead making many concessions to them in hopes of securing peace.

Summarizing a lengthy Wiki passage:  after much tactically maneuvering & negotiations, the U.S. Army demanded that the Nez Perce relocate to a reservation in Idaho.  Joseph decided that peace was more important than his dying fathers’ wishes, but other, younger Nez Perce chiefs wanted to fight.  I’ll pick up the story here, from Wiki:

With 2,000 U.S. soldiers in pursuit, Joseph and other Nez Perce chiefs led 800 Nez Perce towards freedom at the Canadian border.  For over three months, the Nez Perce outmaneuvered and battled their pursuers traveling 1,600 miles (2,570 km) across Oregon, Washington, Idaho, Wyoming, and Montana.

General Howard, leading the opposing cavalry, was impressed with the skill with which the Nez Perce fought, using advance and rear guards, skirmish lines, and field fortifications. Finally, after a devastating five-day battle during freezing weather conditions with no food or blankets, Chief Joseph formally surrendered.  Here are the words attributed to Chief Joseph at the formal surrender:

“Tell General Howard I know his heart. What he told me before, I have it in my heart. I am tired of fighting. Our chiefs are killed; Looking Glass is dead, Too-hul-hul-sote is dead. The old men are all dead. It is the young men who say yes or no. He who led on the young men is dead. It is cold, and we have no blankets; the little children are freezing to death. My people, some of them, have run away to the hills, and have no blankets, no food. No one knows where they are—perhaps freezing to death. I want to have time to look for my children, and see how many of them I can find. Maybe I shall find them among the dead. Hear me, my chiefs! I am tired; my heart is sick and sad. From where the sun now stands, I will fight no more forever.”

His speech brought attention – and therefore credit – his way. He earned the praise of General William Tecumseh Sherman and became known in the press as “The Red Napoleon“.

Joseph’s fame did him little good. By the time Joseph surrendered more than 200 of his followers had died. His plight, however, did not end. Although he had negotiated a safe return home for his people, four hundred of the Nez Perce were taken on unheated rail cars to Fort Leavenworth in eastern Kansas to held in a prisoner-of-war campsite for eight months.  Toward the end of the following summer the surviving Nez Perce were taken by rail to a reservation in the Indian Territory (now Oklahoma) for ten years.  Many of them died of epidemic diseases while there.  Finally they were returned to a reservation around Kooskia, Idaho.

In 1879 Chief Joseph went to Washington, D.C. to meet with President Rutherford B. Hayes and plead the case of his people. Finally, in 1885, Chief Joseph and his followers were allowed to return to the Pacific Northwest, although many, including Chief Joseph, were taken to the Colville Indian Reservation in NW Washington, far from both the rest of their people in Idaho and their homeland in the Wallowa Valley.

In his last years Joseph spoke eloquently against the injustice of United States policy toward his people and held out the hope that America’s promise of freedom and equality might one day be fulfilled for Native Americans as well. An indomitable voice of conscience for the West, he died in 1904, still in exile from his homeland.  According to his doctor, he died “of a broken heart.”

Here’s a shot of the Chief with his family.  I don’t blame them for not smiling.

Moving on to some lovely scenery.  First, Wallowa Falls:

Here’s a shot of Hell’s Canyon, just south of my landing (in the “martian” landscape area):

Here’s a magnificent shot of Lake Wallowa (by Jim Dockery, on Panaramio):

I’ll close with this sunset over the Lake (taken from a similar vantage point as the above):

That’ll do it. . .

KS

Greg

© 2010 A Landing A Day

Sacaton, Arizona

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

Dan –  The general malaise continues, as I hang out at a 2/10 pace with this landing in . . . AZ; 78/71; 2/10; 8; 153.3.  Here’s my landing map, showing that I landed in the Gila River valley:

Here’s a broader view:

Here’s my GE shot, showing that the Gila River valley is dry as a bone:

Here’s a StreetView shot, looking north towards my landing, which is about a quarter mile away:

This was my 34th landing in the Gila R watershed; on to the Colorado (155th hit).  Here’s a picture of the bridge over the Gila at Olberg, just northwest of my landing:

So, besides Olberg (which is teeny), I landed close to the more substantial town of Sacaton.  From Wiki:

Sacaton (Pima: Geʼe Ki:) is in Pinal County, Arizona, United States.  The population was 1,584 at the 2000 census.  It is the capital of the Gila River Indian Community and is best known as the birthplace of Ira Hayes.

Ira Hayes’ name doesn’t ring a bell for me.  From Wiki:

Ira Hamilton Hayes (1923 – 1955) was a Pima Native American and an American Marine during who was one of the six men immortalized in the iconic photograph of the flag raising on Iwo Jima during World War II.  On February 19, 1945, Hayes participated in the landing at Iwo Jima and fought in the subsequent battle for the island.  On February 23 Hayes, together with fellow Marines Rene Gagnon, Harlon Block, Franklin Sousley, and Mike Strank, and Navy Corpsman John Bradley, raised the American flag over Mount Suribachi, an event photographed by Joe Rosenthal.

As a result of Rosenthal’s photograph Hayes and the others became national heroes in the United States. Hayes was never comfortable with his new-found fame, however, and after his honorable discharge from the Marine Corps he descended into alcoholism. He died of exposure on January 24, 1955 after a night of drinking, and was buried with full military honors at Arlington National Cemetery.

Hayes was often commemorated in art and film, both before and after his death. He is depicted in the Marine Corps War Memorial at Arlington National Cemetery, based on the famous photograph, and he portrayed himself in the 1949 film Sands of Iwo Jima. His tragic story was the subject of the 1961 film The Outsider, and inspired Peter La Farge‘ song “The Ballad of Ira Hayes“. He was also depicted in the 2006 film Flags of Our Fathers.

Here’s the famous photo.  That’s Ira on the far left:

Here’s the Iwo Jima Memorial in Arlington National Cemetery (which shoes Ira just touching the flag, as opposed to the photo):

An artist named Urshel Taylor created this oil painting, entitled “The Real Ira Hayes:”

To see the website devoted to the above painting, click here:

Johnny Cash recorded “The Ballad of Ira Hayes” on the 1964 album “Bitter Tears.”  Here’s the album cover:

Here are the words.  If you want to hear the music, here’s a YouTube link:

THE BALLAD OF IRA HAYES

Ira Hayes,
Ira Hayes

[CHORUS:]
Call him drunken Ira Hayes
He won’t answer anymore
Not the whiskey drinkin’ Indian
Nor the Marine that went to war

Gather round me people there’s a story I would tell
About a brave young Indian you should remember well
From the land of the Pima Indian
A proud and noble band
Who farmed the Phoenix valley in Arizona land

Down the ditches for a thousand years
The water grew Ira’s peoples’ crops
‘Till the white man stole the water rights
And the sparklin’ water stopped

Now Ira’s folks were hungry
And their land grew crops of weeds
When war came, Ira volunteered
And forgot the white man’s greed

[CHORUS:]
Call him drunken Ira Hayes
He won’t answer anymore
Not the whiskey drinkin’ Indian
Nor the Marine that went to war

There they battled up Iwo Jima’s hill,
Two hundred and fifty men
But only twenty-seven lived to walk back down again

And when the fight was over
And when Old Glory raised
Among the men who held it high
Was the Indian, Ira Hayes

[CHORUS:]
Call him drunken Ira Hayes
He won’t answer anymore
Not the whiskey drinkin’ Indian
Nor the Marine that went to war

Ira Hayes returned a hero
Celebrated through the land
He was wined and speeched and honored;

Everybody shook his hand

But he was just a Pima Indian
No water, no home, no chance
At home nobody cared what Ira’d done
And when did the Indians dance?

[CHORUS:]
Call him drunken Ira Hayes
He won’t answer anymore
Not the whiskey drinkin’ Indian
Nor the Marine that went to war

Then Ira started drinkin’ hard;
Jail was often his home
They’d let him raise the flag and lower it
Like you’d throw a dog a bone!

He died drunk one mornin’
Alone in the land he fought to save
Two inches of water in a lonely ditch
Was a grave for Ira Hayes

CHORUS:]
Call him drunken Ira Hayes
He won’t answer anymore
Not the whiskey drinkin’ Indian
Nor the Marine that went to war

Yeah, call him drunken Ira Hayes
But his land is just as dry
And his ghost is lyin’ thirsty
In the ditch where Ira died

I like the way Peter LaFarge wrote about the Indians farming the valley before the white man dried up the river.  Anyway, Cash also released the song as a single.  It didn’t get much play on the radio.  In response, Cash bought a full-page ad in Billboard:

DJs, station managers, owners, etc., where are your guts? I’m not afraid to sing the hard bitter lines that the song of Peter La Farge wrote … Classify me, categorize me — STIFLE me, but it won’t work … I am fighting no particular cause. If I did it would soon make me a sluggard. For as time changes, I change. You’re right! Teenage girls and Beatle-record buyers don’t want to hear the sad story of Ira Hayes — but who cries more easily, and who always goes to sad movies to cry??? Teenage girls. Some of you “Top 40” DJs went all out for this at first. Thanks anyway. Maybe the program director or station manager will reconsider. This ad (go ahead and call it that) costs like hell. Would you, or those pulling the strings for you, go to the mike with a new approach? That is, listen to the record again?

Regardless of the trade charts — the categorizing, classifying and restrictions of airplay, this is not a country song, not as it is being sold. It is a fine reason for the gutless to give it the thumbs down. ‘Ballad of Ira Hayes’ is strong medicine. So is Rochester — Harlem — Birmingham and Vietnam … I’ve blown my horn now; just this once, then no more. Since I’ve said these things now, I find myself not caring if the record is programmed or not. I won’t ask you to cram it down their throats. But … I had to fight back when I realized that so many stations are afraid of “The Ballad of Ira Hayes.” Just one question: WHY????

I’ll close with this GE Panaramio shot looking north past my landing:

That’ll do it. . .

KS

Greg

© 2010 A Landing A Day

Fort Bragg, North Carolina

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

Dan –  Phew.  I landed in a USer.  Barely.  I don’t mean barely, geographically speaking; I mean that the state was hardly US.  In fact, now it’s PS . . . NC; 33/33; 2/10; 7; 152.8.  Here’s my landing map:

It looks like I’m out in the country (i.e., no towns); but what could that strange pattern of roads be?  Let’s look at a GE shot:

Well, there are some of the roads.  How about this further-out GE shot?

Son of a gun – those roads are real.  Well, if you look off to the northeast of my landing on the first landing map, you’ll see that I landed in Fort Bragg.  The roads?  Those mysterious roads are on many military installations.  Perhaps roads that connect underground weapons bunkers????  I don’t really have a clue.

Here’s a broader view, showing my proximity to Fayetteville (today’s landing is to the west); the other landing was on 11/8/2005, well before I paid attention to any local details.

For the second time, I landed in the Rockfish Creek watershed (the first time for the landing shown to the east, above); on to the Cape Fear R (10th hit); on to the AO.

So, since I landed in Fort Bragg, Fort Bragg it is.  From Wiki:

Fort Bragg is a major United States Army installation, in Cumberland and Hoke counties, North Carolina, U.S., mostly in Fayetteville but also partly in the town of Spring Lake. It was also a census-designated place in the 2000 census and had a population of 29,183. The fort is named for Confederate General Braxton Bragg. It covers over 251 square miles in four counties. It is home to multiple divisions of the US military including US Army Airborne and Special Operations.

Do you remember that I landed near Fort Bragg CA back on December 30, 2009?  In that post, I featured Braxton Bragg who managed to get two Forts named after him despite a somewhat checkered military career.

Anyway, here’s a GE shot of the heart of this Fort Bragg:

Here’s a shot of some of the housing at the base:

And this, of the Airborne troops doing their thing:

Pope AFB is nestled right up with Fort Bragg and supports the Army Airborne mission.  It was named after one Harley Pope, a WWI pilot who was killed when he crashed into the nearby Cape Fear River.  This memorial to Harley is at the base:

I spent at least 20 minutes on the net trying to find out the story behind the memorial.  Mainly, I was curious to know if the broken propeller was actually  from Harley’s plane, or if it is a replica, or if it is more generically a symbol of a downed plane.  Anybody out there know?

I’ll close with a shot of a Coca Cola truck that services the base.  These guys know their market . . .

That’ll do it. . .

KS

Greg

© 2010 A Landing A Day

Fargo, North Dakota

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

Dan –  I’m now working on my worst slump since November, when I had 8 OSers in a row.  Today’s OSer makes it six in a row . . . ND; 55/44; 2/10 (0/6); 6; 153.4.  Here’s my landing map, showing my proximity to Fargo:

Here’s the broader view:

If you know anything about Fargo, you know it’s on the Red River.  But more locally, I landed in the watershed of a new river, the Lower Branch of the Rush; on to the Sheyenne (9^th hit); to the Red (41^st hit); to the Nelson (58^th hit); to Hudson Bay.  Something peculiar about the Lower Br of the Rush  –  as you noticed, the Lower Br of the Rush does not flow to the Rush River; in fact, it has no hydraulic connection to the Rush River, which is the river just northwest of my landing.  For me, it should be called the Lower Rush River; the word “Branch” certainly implies that it’s part of the same watershed system.

Here’s my GE shot, showing a fully agricultural area, apparently not influenced by its proximity to the largest city in ND:

Here’s a back-in-the-day shot of Fargo, showing quite the bustling metropolis:

And an even further back-in-the-day shot, showing a not-quite-so-bustling metropolis:

Notice all of the men around the Fargo House Hotel.  It almost looks like they’re protecting it from something . . .

So, I looked at the list of Fargo’s favorite sons and daughters.  There are five professional athletes (two baseball players, including Roger Maris;  two football players and one hockey player).  I guess I could have featured Roger, but instead, I’ll move over to the music world.  A familiar musician favorite son (to an old guy like me) is Bobby Vee, a heartthrob rock ‘n roller from the early 60s.  I remember several of his hits (including Rubber Ball shown here):

Here’s an interesting angle about Bobby that has to do with Buddy Holly.  As you may recall, I featured Buddy when I landed near his home town of Lubbock TX.  As mentioned in that post, I have also landed just outside of Clear Lake IA, where Buddy died.  (My Clear Lake landing was just before I began the blog).  Anyway, here’s the Bobby Vee / Buddy Holly angle, from Wiki:

The career of Bobby Vee (given name Robert Velline) began amid tragedy. On “The Day the Music Died” (February 3, 1959), the three headline acts in the line-up of the traveling ‘Winter Dance Party’—Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens, and The Big Bopper—were killed in an airplane crash near Clear Lake, Iowa while en route to the next show on the tour itinerary in Moorhead, Minnesota

[Note that Moorhead is located just across the Red River from Fargo; see my landing map].

Velline, then aged 15, and a hastily-assembled band of Fargo, North Dakota schoolboys calling themselves The Shadows volunteered for and were given the unenviable job of filling in for Holly and his band at the Moorhead engagement. Their performance there was a success, setting in motion a chain of events that led to Vee’s career as a popular singer.

In 1963, Bobby Vee released a tribute album on Liberty Records called “I Remember Buddy Holly”. In the album notes, Vee wrote about Holly’s influence on him and recalled  “ . . . the day he was to arrive disaster struck, taking Buddy’s life, along with the lives of two other fine singers, Richie Valens and The Big Bopper. The shocking news spread through Fargo very quickly. The local radio station broadcast a plea for local talent to entertain at the scheduled dance.

“About a week before this, I had just organized a vocal and instrumental group of five guys. Our style was modeled after Buddy’s approach and we had been rehearsing with Buddy’s hits in mind. When we heard the radio plea for talent, we went in and volunteered. We hadn’t even named the group up to that time, so we gave ourselves a name on the spot, calling ourselves ‘The Shadows’. We appeared at the dance and were grateful to be enthusiastically accepted. Soon afterwards, I made my first record. It was called “Suzie Baby” and I was pretty lucky with it; it was a fair-sized hit.”

Despite the circumstances of his debut, Vee went on to become a bona fide star, and regularly performs at the Winter Dance Party memorial concerts in Clear Lake to this day.

To hear thirty seconds of Bobby’s biggest hit “Take Good Care of My Baby,” (not on the Greatest Hits album shown above) click here:

As you’re probably aware, Fargo has suffered way more than its share of floods.  Here is a 1997 flood shot,  just north of Fargo:

Here’s another 1997 shot, north of my landing near Argusville (just off my landing map):

That’s a serious flood!   I’ll close with this 2009 flood shot:

That’ll do it. . .

KS

Greg

© 2010 A Landing A Day

Dubois, Wyoming

First timer?  In this formerly once-a-day blog (now pretty much an every-other-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’m getting into a serious slump, with my 5^th OSer in a row . . . WY; 68/61; 3/10 (0/5, 1/8); 152.9.  Here’s my landing map, showing that I landed out in the middle of nowhere (although you can see my proximity to the Green River south of my landing):

Here’s a slightly expanded view, showing my proximity to Dubois (which I assume is pronounced doo-boys), along with Jackson and the Tetons:

Here’s the broadest view:

I landed in the Green R watershed (28^th hit); on to the Colorado (154^th hit).  As you can see by the following map, I landed very close to the major watershed boundary between the Green (and Colorado) Rivers and the Snake (and Columbia) Rivers:

Here’s my GE shot, showing what looks to be an idyllic woodlands/meadows setting:

About Dubois (aka “Never Sweat”), from Wiki:

Dubois, Wyoming was originally known as Never Sweat due to its warm and dry winds. However, the postal service found the name Never Sweat unacceptable so Dubois was accepted, named after Fred Dubois, an Idaho senator at the time.

Here’s a shot of Dubois back in the ’40s:

From WyomingTrailsAndTails.com, about Fred Dubois:

When it came time for the establishment of a post office, officials in Washington determined that it should be named for Idaho United States Senator Fred Thomas Dubois (May 29, 1851 – February 14,1930), a member of the Postal Committee, and today remembered primarily for his strong anti-LDS [Mormon] beliefs. [Fred was totally anti-polygamy]. During the Bannock Indian War, a headline in the New York Times, July 31, 1895, indicated that he favored the “extermination” of the Bannock Indians.  The story also indicated that he believed that they were the “laziest and most worthless” Indians. [But the big story on Action News:] He was chairman of the committee of the Senate that required navy bean soup to be always on the Senate menu.

FYI, Fred was born exactly 99 years to the day before yours truly.  A few things jump out:  it seems a little interesting that an Idaho senator was anti-Mormon (doesn’t seem like the best political strategy); and how about that navy bean soup (now generally called Senate Bean Soup) . . .

Back to Dubois the town (from Wiki):

Butch Cassidy (Robert LeRoy Parker) owned and managed a ranch on the outskirts of Dubois, beginning in 1890.  It is said that he was a frequent customer at Welty’s General Store in Dubois, which is still in operation. A statue recently erected in the center of Dubois is modeled after Butch Cassidy.

I’ve bumped into Butch Cassidy and the Hole in the Wall Gang during three or four landings, so I won’t go into any detail this time.  But here’s a shot of Welty’s General Store back in 1910:

Here’s a shot of Welty’s today:

Back to Wiki:

The geology of the area surrounding Dubois is unique in the world for featuring (almost in the same view) examples of all three major mountain-building forces: tectonic, volcanic, and glacial. This is described in detail in the nonfiction book Rising from the Plains by science writer John McPhee.

I’ve read some McPhee (hasn’t every geologist?), but I didn’t read Rising from the Plains.  I tried to find a picture of the scene referred to above, but couldn’t.  I can imagine some high mountains in the rear (raised by tectonic forces), a volcanic cinder cone in the middle foreground, and some glacial moraines in the near foreground (I’m sure I’m wrong).

Here’s an expanded GE shot that also shows the Panaramio picture locations (the blue and white squares down near the Green River):

See all of the blue dots SE of my landing?  I’ll close with four of those photos:

Wow.  Georgeous scenery, eh?

That’ll do it. . .

KS

Greg

© 2010 A Landing A Day

Opheim, Montana (revisited)

Dan –  Every once in a while, I get a wonderful comment from a reader, and I feel compelled to feature the comment as its own post.  Well, back on March 29, 2009, I landed near Opheim, Montana.  Opheim is right up on the Canadian border in Northeast MT.

A gentleman by the name of Ben Witte evidently stumbled on my post.  He posted this comment a couple of days ago:

“I first ran across Opheim MT when I was trucking yearlings off the northern plains back to Iowa and Nebraska.  There is some kind of romance about the town, some mystery – as well as lots of history.  If you ever have a chance to drive through the town of Opheim stop in at the post office and they have a book, about 5” thick of pictures and history of the town.  It’s very interesting to read.

“Opheim is a dying town and someday will be a ghost town.  A town where fairs and rodeos were held is now a town of abandoned houses with an old railroad bed laying under the prairie grass.  You can almost hear the blow of the whistle of the train coming up from Glentana.  You need to have a good appreciation of history to enjoy Opheim; if not, you’ll just wish it burned to the ground and was nothing but a stop sign on the road.”

Comments like this help make my whole enterprise worthwhile . . .

KS

Greg

Eagletail and Little Horn Mountains, Arizona

First timer?  In this formerly once-a-day blog (now pretty much an every-other-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 misery continues . . . AZ; 77/71; 3/10 (1/7); 4; 152.4.  Here’s my landing map.  Today’s landing is the southern-most, showing that I landed far from anything (the closest town is Hope, more than 22 miles away):

Here’s a broader view:

Although the drainage is a little uncertain (with streams that seem to end here and there), it pretty much looked like water at my landing (if there was enough of it) would head south and end up in the Deadman Wash watershed; on to the Clanton Wash; to Farmers Canal; to the Gila R (33^rd hit); to the Colorado (153^rd hit).

Deadman Wash is my 7^th stream with “dead” in it.  “Dead” doesn’t quite make my official list of Common Stream Names (I need 8 to make the list).  But I did compile a list of the names anyway:  Three Dead Rivers (2 in ME, one in MN); one Dead Colt Ck (ND); one Dead Horse Ck (WY) and one Dead Stream (ME).

I’m going to break from tradition, and not feature any town for this post.  I am so out in the boonies, that I’ll feature the two mountain ranges (the dark splotches) on this GE shot:

To the north and east are the Eagletail Mountains (and home to the Eagletail Mountains Wildnerness Area); to the southwest are the Little Horn Mountains.

Here’s a view looking SE towards the Little Horn Mountains (the low ridge in the foreground):

Here’s a GE shot looking east towards the Eagletails (just past my landing) and well beyond:

Here’s a little about Eagletail from Arizonensis.org:

Eagletail Mountains Wilderness is a vast desert preserve located about 130 km west of Phoenix. Included in the area are magnificent mountains including stately Courthouse Rock, sheer cliffs, deep canyons, desert plains, bighorn sheep, desert mule deer, reptiles, and an extensive desert flora. Hikes of one day or several via backpack are possible. Desert solitude and beauty will immediately surround the adventurer. No cars. No buildings or utility poles. Out of cell phone network.

Here are some pics:

I found this story about a “lost mine” in the Little Horn Mountains:

The story of the Lost Mine of the Little Horn Mountains springs from an act of kindness. During the early 1800’s, the sleepy Spanish province of California was governed by a man named Juan Bautista Alvarado. Years later, after he retired, Alvarado moved to the Gila River valley in Arizona. Alvarado proved to be a friend to the neighboring Tonto Apaches. That friendship was not easily earned but this kind man won over the local Indians with his generosity. Eventually that kindness was repaid by one of the Tonto warriors. One day the Indian presented Alvarado with several rich gold-bearing specimens of ore and offered to lead the old Spaniard to “the richest mine in the world!” The ore was native gold in a rusty, dark red matrix and was very rich indeed.

Somewhere near the Little Horn Mountains, the Indian led Alvarado to a ledge of heavy, reddish ore studded with gold. Unfortunately, this was Alvarado’s only trip to the mine. He was simply too old to develop it himself, but his son tried many times to find the ledge. He was never able to locate it, nor has anyone else.

Damn!  I hate it when that happens!  Anyway, the one photo I could find of these mountains is this, of the “Royal Arch:”

I’ll close with this sunset/cactus shot of the Eagletails:

That’ll do it. . .

KS

Greg

© 2010 A Landing A Day