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Archive for February, 2016

New Braunfels, Texas

Posted by graywacke on February 25, 2016

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

Landing number 2249; A Landing A Day blog post number 677.

Dan:  AYKM?  Here we go again.  For the 7th time since changing my random lat/long selection procedure (only 33 landings ago), I’ve landed in . . . TX.

Sorry, but I have to do this.  Here’s a list of states with their individual scores.  The more positive the score, the more oversubscribed; the more negative the score, the more undersubscribed.


Probably none of my readers except you, Dan (and my son Jordan) actually know what this is about.  Just in case any of you other readers care, check out the tab “About Landing (Revisited).”  If you still need (want?) more info, check out the “About Landing” tab . . .

Moving right along – here’s my regional landing map:

landing 1

And my local landing map:

landing 2a

I’ll zoom back some, to show you that I landed in a heavily populated corridor in South Texas:

landing 2b

Here’s my very local streams-only watershed map, showing that I landed in the watershed of Alligator Creek; on to Geronimo Creek and on to the Guadalupe River (5th hit, making the Guadalupe the 163rd river on my list of rivers with 5 or more hits):

landing 3a

Zooming back, you can see that the Guadalupe makes its way to the G of M:

landing 3b

Just for the heck of it, here’s a map showing where the Guadalupe (joining forces with the San Antonio River) makes its way to the San Antonio Bay.  (Harumpf.  I think it should be the Guadalupe Bay.)

landing 3c

Hmmm.  Refugio sounds familiar.  Sure enough – in my October 2009 post (landing 1803), I noted that Refugio is the hometown of one Nolan Ryan.  Amazing that I remember towns from 446 landings ago . . .

It’s time for my Google Earth (GE) spaceflight in to S Texas.  Click HERE, enjoy the trip, and then hit your back button.

I have great GE SV coverage, but I landed in the woods:

ge sv landing map

I put the orange dude along a line of utility poles, so we can look in the woods a little.  Here’s what he sees:

ge sv landing


Here’s the first place I could see something of Alligator Creek:

ge sv alligator map

Looking downstream, it’s just a vegetation-clogged stream bed:

ge sv alligator

Looking upstream, it appears that some highway engineers must have had some flood flow data that drove the design of this incredibly huge flow structure:

ge sv alligator2

So it was clear that New Braunfels had to be titular. I landed very close, and it’s a sizable city (pop 60,000).  Here are a few isolated excerpts from a robust (but confusing) Wiki “History” entry for New Braunfels:

New Braunfels was established in 1845 by Prince Solms of Solms-Braunfels, Germany.  Prince Solms named the settlement in honor of his home in Germany.

The Prince organized hundreds of people in Germany to settle in Texas. Immigrants from Germany began arriving at Galveston in July 1844. Most then traveled by ship to Indianola in December 1844, and began the overland journey to land purchased by Prince Solms.

Obviously, I’m a map guy, so here’s a map to check out the settlers’ trek from Galveston to Indianola to New Braunfels:



Back to Wiki:

As the spring of 1845 progressed, the settlers built the “Zinkenburg”, a fort named for civil engineer Nicolaus Zink, divided the land, and began building homes and planting crops.  Prince Solms would also lay the cornerstone for the Sophienburg, a permanent fort and center for the immigrant association.

Later in 1845, Prince Solms became disillusioned with the logistics of the colonization and he resigned his position as Commissioner-General.  His successor, John O. Meusebach, found that the finances were in disarray, due in part to Prince Solms’ lack of business experience and his refusal to keep financial records.

Apparently (in spite of his ineptitude), the Prince had some grand plans for the German settlement.  Check this out:

Meusebach discovered that Prince Solms’ choice of the inadequate Indianola as a port of entry, as well as the isolated route to New Braunfels, was deliberately chosen to keep the Germans from interacting with any Americans. According to Nicolaus Zink (the engineer mentioned above), Prince Solms had planned to establish an independent German feudal state by secretly bringing in immigrants and placing them in military fortresses. Meusebach, who had renounced his own title of nobility, took a different approach and invited Americans to settle along with the Germans.

Pretty wild stuff.  Bottom line:  New Braunfels still has a German bent.  They have an annual Wurstfest Craft Beer Festival and a huge water theme park is called the Schlitterbahn.

So, what the heck.  I though I’d check out Braunfels, Germany.  Here’s a GE map view:


And here’s a much more local view of the oldest part of town:

ge germany

Here are some GE Pano shots of the old marketplace.  First this, by Dominico Velasquez:

pano domingo vazquez

And another by Dominico:

pano domingo vazquez 2

And this, by Andrjuschenka:

pano andrjuschenka

Quite the cool place, eh?  Well, how about the castle?  Here’s an overview from the official Solms-Bruanfels Castle website:

castle schloss-braunfels.de

And here are some castle-interior GE Pano shots.  Here’s one by Marco Marsello:

pano marco marsella

And this, by mfp:

pano mfp

And this (another by Dominico Velasquez):

pano domingo vazquez 3

This kind of reminds me of my side trip to Caernafon, Wales a while ago (a castle surrounded by an old village).  There are some amazing places in Europe that no one has ever heard of that are well worth visiting.  It’s just a matter of time and money – unfortunately, I have insufficient quantities of both in my current situation . . .

I just checked out my Caernafon post (actually entitled:  “Odebolt, Wall Lake, Lake View and Carnarvon, Iowa (with bonus Caernarfon, Wales coverage),” and it’s great.  If you’re in the mood, just type “Wales” in the search box, and check out this wondrous post.  Damn, I’m good . . .

Anyway, it’s time to return to my Texas landing.  I found some nice Pano shots within 2 miles of my landing.  I’ll start with this shot of blue bonnets by Curt Cook:

pano curt cook 2

And here’s another great shot by Curt:

pano curt cook

I’ll close with a couple by Shomeister (sounds like a good German name!):

pano shomeister

pano shomeister2


That’ll do it . . .




© 2016 A Landing A Day






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Snelling and Merced, California

Posted by graywacke on February 20, 2016

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

Landing number 2248; A Landing A Day blog post number 676.

Dan:  After landing in a larger USer (undersubscribed state – NV); I did it again, but this time the large USer is . . . CA.  This moved my Score down from 1061 to 1006.  Check out the “About Landing (Revisited)” tab above to see what I’m talking about (if you’re curious).

Moving right along, here’s my regional landing map:

landing 1

My local landing map shows that I landed closest to tiny Snelling (pop 231) but not far from the major metropolis in the area, Merced (pop 82,000):

landing 2

Here’s my very local streams-only map:

landing 3a

Note that Street Atlas doesn’t give me the name of my local watershed stream; it simply calls it “stream perennial.”  Anyway, this unnamed tributary flows to the Merced River (1st hit ever!).   Interestingly, see how my little stream flows due east?  This is opposite of the Merced, which is flowing due west.

Zooming back quite a bit:

landing 3

As you can see, the Merced makes its way to the San Joaquin (11th hit).  The San Joaquin joins up with the Sacramento to form the headwaters of San Francisco Bay (32nd hit).

I will confess here of a woeful ignorance on my part:  I didn’t realize that it’s the Merced River that (along with the glaciers) carved Yosemite Valley, and that it’s the Merced River that tumbles over Yosemite Falls (see above map)!  I’ll use any excuse for a pretty picture – here’s a gratuatous shot of the Merced River coming out of the Yosemite Valley (Wiki, by Chensiyaun):


Here’s a little info on the river from Wiki:

In the early 19th century, several military expeditions sent by Spanish colonists from coastal California traveled into the Central Valley. One of these trips, headed by Lieutenant Gabriel Moraga, arrived on the south bank of the Merced River on September 29, 1806. They named the river Rio de Nuestra Señora de la Merced (River of Our Lady of Mercy), who is the patron saint of Barcelona and is celebrated on September 24.

Of course, numerous Indian tribes (and thousands of Indians) lived along the Merced from Yosemite down to the confluence with the San Joaquin.  Of course, they were mercilessly driven out / slaughtered, mainly fueled by the gold rush . . .

Speaking of the gold rush, the Merced River valley (mainly above Snelling) was placer mined using huge dredging machines that dug up the sand and gravel along the river (separating out flakes of gold as they dredged).  Here’s some info from MuseumCa.com:

The Snelling district is in eastern Merced County along the Merced River between the towns of Snelling and Merced Falls.  The town, named in 1851 for Charles Snelling, who operated a hotel and ranch here, was the governmental seat of Merced County from 1857 until 1872.  Gold dredging began in 1907 and continued until 1919.  There was dredging again from 1929 until 1942 and 1946 to 1952.  The value of the total output of the district is unknown, but the dredges are estimated to have produced about $17 million.

The gold was recovered from stream gravels and flood plain and terrace deposits in and adjacent to the Merced River.  The gravels are loose with very little clay and range from 20 to 35 feet in depth.  The dredged area is about nine miles long and ½ to 1½ miles wide.

Note that the town of Snelling was the county seat of Merced County from 1857 until 1872.  Long-time ALAD readers are away that I periodically show pictures of majestic courthouses (when I’m so inclined).  Well, this is a little different.  It turns out that the 1857 courthouse still exists!  And check it out!  Here’s a back-in-the-day shot from CourtHouseHistory.com:

courthouse 1

And here’s what it looks like today (from NoeHill.com):


This is the most understated county courthouse I’ve seen so far . . .

It’s time for my Google Earth (GE) spaceflight into the Central Valley of California.  Click HERE, enjoy the flight, then hit your back button.

Street View coverage, while not bad, doesn’t provide a shot of my landing.  However, it does provide a shot of the unnamed stream that is my local watershed stream:

ge dana slough map

And check this out!  Here’s what the orange dude sees:

ge dana slough

So my stream has a name!  I landed in the watershed of Dana Slough.  There.  That feels better.

I had the orange dude turn to the right a little:

ge dana slough2

See the cattle?  At the end of this post is a much better photo (a GE Pano shot) of the cattle that hang out along Dana Slough.

So I’ve already said all I have to say about Snelling, so that leaves Merced.  No offense to Merced, but I couldn’t really a lot to feature.  But I did notice that Wiki’s entry for Merced has a section entitled “Hmong Community:”

The Hmong began to settle in Merced in the 1970s and the 1980s.  The Hmong settled Merced and other areas in the Central Valley of California after the conclusion of the Laotian Civil War, when Communist forces won and began to oppress the Hmong, who had fought for the U.S. (anti-Communist) side. The Hmong fled to refugee camps in Thailand, then moved to the United States.

Members of the Hmong community settled in Merced settled because Dang Moua, a community leader and former employee at the Embassy of the United States in Laos, promoted Merced.  Historically, as much as 15% of Merced’s population was Hmong, although it is currently less than 10%.

Going back to the Vietnam era, I remember there being a tribe from the mountainous regions of Southeast Asia who were inclined to (and therefore recruited to) side with the U.S. against the Viet Cong.  Maybe I kinda sorta remembered that they were the Hmong. 

Anyway, I found a website:  YouKnowYouveLivedInThailandWhen.com that had a good write-up on the Hmong people (by Josh at Asia Backpackers).  Here are some excerpts:

Since the late 18th century the Hmong slowly migrated to Southeast Asia from the mountainous regions of southwest China. The history of the Hmong people is difficult to trace; they have an oral tradition, but there are no written records. Hmong history has been passed down through legends and ritual ceremonies from one generation to another as well as through Hmong textile art or story cloths sewn by the women.

The Hmong were first recorded in Chinese annals as a rebellious people banished from the central plains around 2500 B.C. by the legendary Yellow Emperor (Huang Di) of China.  Recent studies of both their linguistics and DNA has suggested that they have occupied the same areas of southern China for over 2,000 years

The majority of Hmong people fled Laos in the mid 1970’s after the Vietnam war and when Laos was taken over by a communist regime, who then proceeded to persecute them for helping the Americans in their ‘Secret War’ against the Viet Cong.

The Hmong language is far from standardized and includes a mixture of various dialects. Most Hmong today are likely to speak to each other in the languages from their chosen country, such as English, Laotian, Chinese or Thai, but will still preserve their own language. All the Hmong share the same set of root words and grammar structure; they can generally communicate with each other inspite of different dialects.

Hmong people cannot be characterized as subscribing to a single belief system as they believe strongly that their physical well-being cannot be separated from their spiritual health and that the spiritual realm is highly influential and dictates what happens in the physical world. According to these beliefs, everything possesses a spirit, both animate and inanimate objects.

Over the last 40 years or so some Hmong have become Christian but they still only make up a small percentage of the total population.

Here are some pictures of Thai Hmong from the same website:





There’s a dearth of GE Panoramio shots anywhere close to my landing, although as promised earlier in this post, there is one showing cattle along Dana Slough (by Ray1623).  I’ll close with Ray’s somewhat exotic shot of long-horned cattle:

pano Ray1623

That’ll do it . . .




© 2016 A Landing A Day




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Miles from Nowhere, in Northwest Nevada

Posted by graywacke on February 16, 2016

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

Landing number 2247; A Landing A Day blog post number 675.

Dan:  Back in the day, NV was a hard-core OSer.  But in the new regime (since I changed my random lat/long procedure), NV is a first time newbie, obviously a USer, pushing my Score down from 1119 to 1061.  Curious about this apparent blather?  Click on the “About Landing (Revisisted)” tab, above.

Here’s my regional landing map:

landing 1

My local landing map (consistent with the post’s title) shows a whole lotta nothing:

landing 2a

I’ll zoom out a little, so you can see what’s in the larger vicinity of my landing:

landing 2b

FYI, I featured Lovelock in a July 2015 post; Pyramid Lake in my September 2014 Hazen NV post; and Gerlach in a May 2012 post.  As you’re aware, I sometimes cut and paste from former posts to bolster a current post.  But with the exception of the following little bit from the Hazen post, I’m not going to bother.

In my Hazen post, I was talking about tufa, a geologic formation.  Here’s what I had to say:

Tufa is a limestone rock formed when spring water, enriched with calcium carbonate (the stuff of limestone), discharges underwater into a fresh water lake.  The calcium carbonate precipitates out of solution, progressively forming tufa one microscopic layer at a time (all of this under water).  When the water levels retreat, out pops the tufa!  Tufa can result in some very interesting-looking formations.

Here are two tufa shots (or is that tu twofa shots) at Pyramid Lake.  First this, from Photo River Blog (Hammon Photography):

old 1

And this, from Rachid Photo:

old 2

Any question why it’s called Pyramid lake? 

Back to the here and now.  The remainder of this post will be a very low-key travelogue, very local to my landing.

I’ll start with my Google Earth (GE) spaceflight on in to landing 2247.  Click HERE, enjoy the trip, and then hit your back button.

You can see that I landed in a classic Nevada landscape.  Here’s a shot looking northwest using the GE Ground View feature from the top of the ridge behind my landing (the light gray area in the lower right is actually the ridge):

ge 1


My watershed analysis is quite simple.  See the white playa in the distance?  That’s the Kumiva Playa (where runoff from my landing ends up).  As you might suspect, Kumiva Playa has no outlet:  any water that makes it there soaks in or evaporates . . .

I moved my perspective a little further south and west.  Here’s a shot looking due north past my landing:

ge 2

That’s Black Mountain to the left of my landing, looming over the Kumiva Playa.

I then traveled about 13 miles west of my landing (to the Selenite Range), and then looked back east toward the Playa, Black Mountain and my landing:

ge 3

I found a GE Panaramio shot from the same general vicinity (by Robert Stolting):

pano Robert Stolting 2

Here’s a Pano shot by Ken Adams from the middle of Kumiva Playa, looking east towards Black Mountain:

pano Ken Adams

Here’s another shot from the Kumiva Playa by Proth6030:

pano proth6030-2


And yet another (this one quite artsy), also by Proth6030:

pano proth6030

Just on the other side of the ridge is another playa, the Blue Wing Playa (aka Blue Wing Flats):

ge 4

Here’s a Pano shot of that playa by Davey Loomis:

pano davey loomis

While here, I found a travelogue blog by DLBrunner (ExpeditionPortal.com) that included this shot of playa-sailing on Blue Wing Flats:


I’ll close with this shot from SummitPost.org.  It’s from Kumiva Peak in the Selenite Range, looking east towards the Kumiva Playa, with Black Mountain behind the Playa and the Humboldt Range in the far distance:



That’ll do it . . .




© 2016 A Landing A Day




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Camp Wood, Texas

Posted by graywacke on February 12, 2016

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

Landing number 2246; A Landing A Day blog post number 674.

Dan:  This is actually getting a little strange.  After years of having Texas as my far-and-away number one USer (undersubscribed state), I’ve been on a Texas tear since changing my random lat/long selection methodology.  That’s right.  Today’s landing is the 30th since the change, and this is my sixth landing in Texas!  Texas is now, of course, my far-and-away number one OSer (oversubscribed state)!

Based on the area of Texas (vs. the area of the lower 48), I should have landed in Texas two times out of 30 landings – i.e., I should land in Texas about one in every 15 landings.  All I can say is that the Landing God works in mysterious ways . . .

Check out the “About Landing (Revisited)” tab above for some background on what I’m talking about .. .

Here’s my regional landing map:

landing 1

And my local landing map:

landing 2

Here’s my local watershed map:

landing 3a

As you can see, I landed in the watershed of the West Nueces R (2nd hit); on to the Nueces (13th hit).  Zooming back a little, you can see that the Nueces makes its way to the G of M.  I labeled the Frio R as well, just because it’s also local to my landing:

landing 3b

It’s time for my Google Earth (GE) spaceflight in to S-Cen Texas.  Click HERE, enjoy the trip, and then hit the back button.

Did you see what looks like a runway?  Here’s a static look:

ge airstrip

I’ll say!  And this is no podunk grass airstrip!  It’s paved, and over a mile long.  I’m out in the middle of no where, so a paved runway makes no sense.  But as you’ll learn soon enough, I figured out the story.

But first, here’s a shot showing Street View coverage near my landing (and you can see the entire runway):

ge sv landing map

And here’s what the orange dude sees:

ge sv landing

And here’s SV coverage of the West Nueces River (which certainly looks dry):

ge sv map w nueces

Here ‘tis – and it certainly is dry! 

ge sv w nueces

The sign says “West Prong Nueces River.”  There’s not even a bridge, so it must be dry almost all of the time. . .

Anyway, as mentioned earlier, I figured out why there’s a paved runway.  I noted that there’s a road near the runway, which heads south to the road with Street View coverage I used for my landing shot.  I took a look at where the two roads meet:

ge four aces

4 Aces Ranch, eh?  A Google search shows that there’s some big money associated with this ranch.  It’s a mere 17,132 acres (which amounts to nearly 27 square miles).  I’m sure that I landed on 4 Aces Ranch property and that the runway is for the private jet of the incredibly wealthy owner.

Besides a runway, there are several houses, including the main house with a very fancy pool.

The pool installer (Cantera Pools) actually put together a virtual reality tour of the pool and patio:

According to LandsOfAmerica.com, the property was for sale, but has been sold.  Anyway, there are a bunch of great photos on their website, which I’ll save for the end of this post.

So I checked out each and every small town looking for a hook.  I found a minor hook in Camp Wood, but elsewhere?  Nada, nada, nada.  So, the winner is Camp Wood.  And here’s the story (in my own words, garnered primarily from TexasEscapes.com):

In 1924, a St. Louis automobile dealer (Leon Klink) developed an acute interest in airplanes.  For $250, he bought a WWI-surplus Canadian bi-plane (an OX-5 Curtiss). 

From FineArtAmerica.com, here’s a shot of an OX-5 Curtiss:


Leon didn’t know how to fly, but he convinced an acquaintance of his (Charles Lindbergh, known as “Slim”) to pilot the plane to warmer southern climes (it was January).  Slim took him up on the deal. 

The two winged their way to Florida without incident (top speed, 75 mph).  Before leaving St. Louis, Slim had applied to the Army’s Flight School in San Antonio TX.  While in Florida, Slim got word to report to the School on March 15.

This left the two adventurers plenty of time, so they decided to follow the Southern Pacific Railroad tracks across the southern tier of the U.S., heading for California where Leon wanted to visit some friends.

Without any problem, they made it all the way to S-Cen Texas, still following the Southern Pacific railway. 

Slim knew that the railway intercepted the Rio Grande, and that he’d have to bear to the right at that point.  I did a little research, and found this map showing what I’m talking about.  See the arrow and the note?  The red rail lines are labeled “Union Pacific,” which back in the day were Southern Pacific (at least the one in our area of interest).

Texas Railroads

So what happens?  Carefully check out this map (obviously put together by yours truly):



That’s right!  He came across the Nueces River and mistook it for the Rio Grande!  And this, in spite of the fact that he was a good 50 miles away from the Rio Grande.  Here’s a GE close-up shot, more clearly showing Lindbergh’s wrong turn:

ge fateful turn

So, he’s cruising up the Nueces, blissfully unaware that he’s not following the Rio Grande.  But then, when he reached Camp Wood, the railroad ended!  Lindbergh knew then that he messed up (plus, he was low on fuel).  So, he landed in a pasture north of town.

Now, I’ll quote directly from TexasEscapes.com:

Intending to take off again as soon as they refueled, the two aviators got a ride into town to buy gasoline.

Getting back to their plane late in the day, the two cross-country flyers accepted an invitation from a nearby ranch family to spend the night before resuming their flight. Years later, Ray Chant recalled that they sat around his family’s fireplace enjoying the warmth of the hearth and good conversation, though Klink talked more than Slim.

The next day when they tried to take off, they found the ground too soft for the Canuck to get up sufficient airspeed. Removing their luggage, the passenger seat and tool box, they tried again with only Slim in the plane.

The plan worked. Slim flew toward Camp Wood to find a better landing spot while Klink hitched a ride into town, hauling everything they had taken off the plane. Slim put the Canuck down on the Uvalde road, the town’s gravel main street.

Almost everyone in the county gathered to see the flyers on their way west. But as Slim taxied, confident he could squeeze the plane’s 43-foot wingspan between telephone poles on each side of the street, one of the wheels hit a rut. The aircraft veered sideways, its wing clipping one of the telephone poles. Now out of control, the aircraft crashed into the side of Warren Pruett’s hardware store.

Klink and Slim climbed out of the cockpit uninjured, relieved to find that no one had been inside the store when they hit it. The impact scattered pots and pans, caused a portrait of President Calvin Coolidge to drop to the store’s wooden floor and, according to some, left a horse collar draped around the plane’s smoking radiator.

It turns out that they needed a new propeller, and shellac to repair the plane’s cloth fuselage, which they ordered from Houston.  As can be imagined, this all took a while. 

After repairs, they managed to take off safely, but on their very next landing, they ran into a stiff bush and the cloth fuselage was damaged once again, creating another week’s delay.  By this time, Lindbergh had to report to San Antonio; Klink hopped a train to California to visit his friends while Slim flew to San Antonio.  I wonder if Klink got his airplane back?  I presume so . . .

There you have it:  The story of Lindbergh’s Wrong Turn.  History would have been quite different if the rut on their takeoff “runway” had been a little deeper, causing the plane to veer a little more sharply, resulting in a serious crash that took the life of the pilot.  I’m sure history is replete with similar near misses . . .

Time to wrap things up.  As discussed earlier, I actually landed on the 4 Aces Ranch property, and found a real estate website (LandsOfAmerica.com) that had a bunch of pictures.  Since these are all very local to my landing, I’ll close with a few of the most scenic:






That’ll do it . . .




© 2016 A Landing A Day




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Mulberry, Indiana

Posted by graywacke on February 8, 2016

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

Landing number 2245; A Landing A Day blog post number 673.

Dan:  This is my first landing in Indiana since changing my random lat/long landing procedure 29 landings ago.  And yes, my Score went down (from 1132 to 1113).  If you’re curious what I’m talking about, check out the “About Landing (Revisited)” tab above.

Here’s my regional landing map:

landing 1

And my local landing map:

landing 2

You can see on the above map that I landed in the watershed of the S Fk Wildcat Ck.  My streams-only map shows that the S Fk discharges to Wildcat Ck; and on to the Wabash R (26th hit):

landing 3a

Zooming back, you can see that Wabash (which forms a good portion of the IN/IL boundary) ends up in the Ohio R (136th hit):

landing 3b

Of course, this is all part of the Mississippi watershed (880th hit).

Click HERE for my Google Earth (GE) spaceflight in to central-ish Indiana.  After enjoying the flight, hit your back button.

I have excellent GE SV coverage:

ge sv landing map

Here’s what the orange dude sees:

ge sv landing

And I get a good view of the S Fk Wildcat Ck:

ge sv creek map

And here ’tis:

ge sv creek

Since Mulberry was the closest town to my landing, it was the first town I checked out.  It was looking absolutely hookless until I saw this name under “Notable People:”  Vesto Slipher, astronomer.

Two things jumped out.  First, what an incredibly strange name; and secondly, he was an astronomer with his own Wiki entry.  It turns out that he was quite accomplished and he played a key role in understanding one of the most fundamental aspects of our universe. 

This is going to be my first straight-ahead astronoomy post.  I’ll meander a bit, before pulling Vesto in to the story.  So what fundamental aspect of our universe do I have in mind?  It’s the fact that the universe is expanding.  This, of course led to a cornerstone concept in modern cosmology:  running the clock backwards inexorably leads to the Big Bang.  So how was this all figured out?

You’re probably thinking that Edwin Hubble figured it out, and that’s fundamentally true.  He’s the guy who developed Hubble’s Law, which quantifies the relationship between galactic distances and the speed that the galaxies are flying away from us.  Simply put, the farther away the galaxy, the faster it is receding from us.

Interesting sidebar:  If you think about it for a moment, it would be perfectly logical to conclude that we’re at the center of the universe.  After all, hundreds of billions of galaxies that make up the visible universe are all flying away from us, at velocities that are proportional to their distance from us.  What other conclusion could be drawn? 

Well, here’s the rub.  An observer on a distant galaxy, making the same measurements that I just described, would also find that all galaxies were flying away from him, also at speeds proportional to distance.  This is one of those total head-scratchers that I like to think about, but am at a loss to truly understand.

So anyway, Hubble needed two critical pieces of information:  first, the distances to galaxies (which was his strength and the center of much of his research); and secondly, the relative velocity of galaxies as observed from Earth (i.e., are they moving toward us, moving away from us, or staying put?  And how fast?)

Hubble was a leader in using “standard candles” to determine galactic distances.  A standard candle is an identifiable light source that, no matter where it is, shines at a known luminosity.  The farther away it is, the dimmer it appears; but since the actual luminosity is known, there’s a formula that can be used to determine the distance to the light source. 

Well, it turns out that there’s a type of star known as a Cepheid variable that can be identified by the way the intensity of the light varies.  It turns out that there’s a direct relationship between a Cepheid variable’s luminosity and pulsation period.

So Hubble used Cepheid variables to determine the distance to hundreds of galaxies, all of which had identifiable Cepheid variable stars.

Note:  Cepheid variables are good up to a distance of about a million light years.  To find out about galaxies further away (which is the vast majority of galaxies), a Type 1A supernova is often used as the standard candle.  This is much tougher job, as supernova are rare transient events and it takes a lot of work to find enough of these to build up a statistically significant data base.  But legions of persistent astronomers have done that and, of course, have found that Hubble’s Law holds true all the way to the far “edge” of the universe . . . 

Anyway, back to Hubble’s discovery:  it’s this second question (the relative velocity of galaxies) where he leaned heavily on the research of our hero, Vestos Slipher.  So what did Vestos do?  First some background. 

It turns out when light is passed through a prism, it looks like this:


This is the visible light spectrum (a rainbow).

The light spectrum from stars and more distant galaxies does not look like the continuous spectrum shown above.  Rather, it has distinct spectral features characteristic of the atoms in the gases around the stars.  Because hydrogen is far and away the most abundant element in the universe, hydrogen impacts the way the spectrum looks, thusly:


The black lines in the absorption spectrum are gaps in the spectrum created as light passes through hydrogen gas.  The Hydrogen Emission Spectrum is the opposite:  it shows corresponding narrow bands of light emitted as the light passes through.  

OK, OK.  I’m on pretty shaky ground here.  I’m ignoring the quantum mechanics that explains why these absorption and emission wavelengths exist at all (and why there are both absorption and emission spectra).  Suffice it to say that these hydrogen spectra can be discerned and measured by analyzing the light from stars and galaxies.  Moving right along:

When the light source is traveling away from us, the light wavelengths become longer, as the wave appears to be stretched out. This is a Doppler Effect, just like the changing sound of a train whistle as the train goes by (a higher pitch when the train is approaching and a lower pitch when the train is receding).

The faster the relative speed of a receding galaxy, the longer the hydrogen spectrum wavelengths become.  This “shift” is towards the red end of the spectrum, and is therefore known as red shift.

The magnitude of the shift is determined by looking at the hydrogen emission spectrum at rest and comparing it with the spectrum from the moving galaxy.

Here’s a graphic showing how the hydrogen spectra are shifted when measured from a rapidly-receding galaxy (from Georgia State University):

red shift

See the “v=-.1c?”  This says that a galaxy receding at one tenth the speed of light results in the red shift shown.

Phew.  So good ol’ Vesto was a pioneer in identifying and measuring the red shift of hydrogen emission spectrum wavelengths emanating from galaxies and realizing that this shift has to do with the relative velocity of the receding galaxy (and is a way to measure the speed of the receding galaxy).

So, one part Hubble (galactic distances) + one part Vesto (relative galactic velocities) = Hubble’s Law.  I wonder how close Vesto was to coming up with the overall theory?  If he were a little quicker, maybe we’d have the Slipher Space Telescope . . .

Time to close this unusual post out with my usual GE Pano shots.  Taken along the railroad south of Mulberry, here’s a shot (by Refidini-Nip-Kosove) of an eye-catching rail tank car:

pano refedini-Nip-Kosove

I’ll close with this great sky shot by Ana Buzancic, taken less than a mile south of my landing:

pano Ana Buzancic Petercic

That’ll do it . . .




© 2016 A Landing A Day




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Imnaha and Joseph, Oregon

Posted by graywacke on February 4, 2016

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

Landing number 2244; A Landing A Day blog post number 672.

Dan:  For the third time since I straightened out my random lat/long landing procedure (just 28 landings ago), I’ve landed in . .  OR.  Check out the “About Landing (Revisited)” tab above to see what I’m talking about . . . 

Here’s my regional landing map:

landing 1

And my local landing map:

landing 2

Because Google Earth (GE) provides a great shot of my watershed, I’ll jump to my GE spaceflight in to NE OR.  Click HERE, enjoy the ride, then hit the back button.

While the topography is not entirely obvious while looking straight down, here’s an oblique GE shot, looking north down the valley of Lightning Creek:

ge 1 looking n up lightning ck

Here’s my streams-only map, showing that the Lightning Creek makes its way to the Imnaha R (first hit ever!); on to the Snake (77th hit).  Trust me on this:  the Snake joins up with the Columbia (156th hit):

landing 3a

Here’s a Wiki shot of the Imnaha passing through Imnaha:

wiki imnaha river (by finetooth)

And a GE Pano shot of the same river by TBlackburn:

pano inmaha river tblackburn

What a great spot!

Here’s a GE shot of where the Imnaha joins up with the Snake:

ge 2 imnaha meets the snake


And here’s a Pano shot of the Snake by Tom Ringold just 5 miles east of my landing:

pano tom ringold snake 5 mi

As you can tell by the above river shots, I landed in a spectacularly beautiful area, but I think I’ll save additional scenery shots for the end of this post. 

Looking back at my local landing map, you can see that I landed closest to the town of Imnaha.  Both the town and the river were named after a chief Imna.  Imnaha (according to Wiki) means “land of Imna.”  Imagine that – “ha” must mean “land of.”  Illinois’ translated slogan:  Ha Lincoln.

Wiki says that Imnaha is best known as the gateway to the Hat Point scenic overlook, providing a spectacular of the Snake River and Hell’s Canyon.  Hat Point lies a mere 2 miles from my landing and will figure prominently in the scenery portion of this post.

So I checked out Enterprise (no hook) and then Joseph.  Joseph rang a bell with me and lo and behold, I featured Joseph in a July 2010 ALAD post.  Because I really liked that post (and because I’m lazy and recovering from open heart surgery), I’ll generously lift verbiage from that post (and don’t ever, ever forget the “i” in verbiage).

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.

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; please read the following closely to appreciate the compelling story.  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.


Back to the here and now . . .

As promised, let’s take a look around my landing spot. Here’s a GE shot, looking SE past my landing towards Hat Point in the forground, which provides a spectacular overlook down into the Hell’s Canyon stretch of the Snake River:

ge 3 lookout etc

I’ll finish up with three GE Pano shots taken from Hat Point.  I’ll start with this one of the Point itself, by Niek Bouwen:

pano niek bouwen

Here’s a lovely overlook shot by Aaron Litt:

pano aaron litt

But the prizewinner is this, by Jason Abbott:

pano jason abbott

That’ll do it . . .




© 2016 A Landing A Day




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Little River, Arkansas

Posted by graywacke on February 1, 2016

First timer?  In this formerly once-a-day blog (and now pretty much a once-every-three-or-four days 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) please see “About Landin above.

Landing number 2243; A Landing A Day blog post number 671.

Dan:  After an Arkansas landing, what do I do?  Why, I landed once again in . . . AR!  Of course, this makes my Score go up (from 1123 to 1126).  Have no clue what I’m talking about?  Check out my Grand Rapids Post.  Don’t care?  Just continue reading!

So this was my 57th double (where I landed in the same state two times in a row).  This was the second double for Arkansas, the first being landings 516 and 517 (August 2004).

Here’s my regional landing map:

landing 1

And my very local landing map:

landing 2a


Obviously, (based on the title of this post), there will be more about Little River coming up (and more about the peculiarly-named Left Hand Chute).

Zooming back a little, here’s a not-so-local landing map:

landing 2b

As it turns out, my watershed analysis is very central to this entire post, so I think I’ll jump first to my Google Earth (GE) spaceflight in to NE AR.  Click HERE, enjoy the trip, and then hit your “back” button.

I have excellent GE Street View (SV) coverage; here’s a map:

ge landing sv map


And here’s what the orange dude sees.

ge landing sv

Look back up at my local landing map and you’ll notice the “town” of Little River.  It would be a fair guess that I’m featuring that town for this post.  Fair guess, but wrong.

Let’s use GE to take a closer look at this thriving metropolis:

ge little river town

I won’t bother showing you a closer-in look, but there are five or six homes there.  The town has no internet presence at all.  Nothing in Wiki, no entry on the Encyclopedia of Arkansas website (which is a great website with lots of detail).  So what’s going on?

Well, as mentioned above, this post turned on my watershed analysis.  So here’s my typical local streams-only map:

landing 3a

So, I landed in the watershed of the Left Hand Chute of the Little River.  As you can see, with just a little poking around, I discovered that there is also a Right Hand Chute of the Little River.  But zooming back (and losing a lot of waterway detail), it sure looks like the Left Hand Chute of the Little River doesn’t do what might be expected:

landing 3bb


It doesn’t hook up with the Right Hand Chute; in fact, the Right Hand Chute seems to have disappeared altogether, replaced by the nattily-named “Ditch 2”; and there is no plain ol’ Little River anywhere to be seen. 

Mysteriouser and mysteriouser . . . 

So what the heck.  I took the plunge and Googled “Left Hand Chute Little River.”  I saw that the Encyclopedia of Arkansas had an entry entitled “Little River (Northeast Arkansas).”  Google being Google, I knew that the article must reference that pesky Left Hand Chute somewhere.  And it did.

Here are some excerpts:

The Little River starts in southeast Missouri, and flows southward.  After crossing the Missouri-Arkansas state line, it enters the Big Lake National Wildlife Refuge near Manila. Running a length of 148 miles, the Little River is a tributary of the St. Francis River.

Before the New Madrid Earthquakes of 1811–1812, the Little River was a swift, free-flowing stream. In the twenty-first century, it is not much more than a series of stagnant mud holes due to the channeling and ditching of the Little River Drainage District.

Wow.  This is really getting interesting.  The Little River is (or was) 148 miles long, but lost its identity because of the New Madrid Earthquakes?  This is getting my geological juices flowing!  Continuing:

Before the 1811–1812 earthquakes, the Little River was fed by the Whitewater River.  Flatboats traveled and traded up and down the Little River and made connection to the St. Francis River.

However, the three major earthquakes of 1811–1812 changed that. Travel by flatboats to and on the Little River became impossible, and the connections to the St. Francis River had also disappeared. Falling trees and caving banks had blocked the river and bayous connecting them. Natural depressions made by the quakes soon filled with water, forming lakes and swamps.

Water could no longer move smoothly downstream through the Little River channel. The flow was forced out of the channel and spread through the hardwood forest lining the river bank. Yearly spring floods forced the water deeper into the woods. What had been small area of lowlands became major wetlands.

Between 1914 and 1929, the Little River Drainage District was formed to drain an area ninety miles long and ten to twenty miles wide. This was accomplished by digging 958 miles of ditches and building 304 miles of levee.

The area is heavily channeled, with the Little River losing most of its identity.  The floodway leaving the Big Lake area is roughly one mile wide enclosed by ten-foot levees.

Finally!  Here comes the reference to the Left Hand Chute:

Running through the floodway are waterways that include various numbered ditches as well as the Left Hand Chute of Little River and the Right Hand Chute of Little River.

Well there you have it.  Being the watershed nerd that I am, I rolled up my sleeves to get a closer look.  Using the Streams Only feature of StreetAtlas, I found a couple of stretches of stream that were actually identified as “Little River.”  The stretches didn’t connect with each other, so I added some blue lines (and added the location of New Madrid for reference):

landing 3d

Peculiarly, it looks like the very upstream portion of the Little River actually connects with another stream or river.  Hey.  That’s not how nature works, so I took a closer look:

landing 3e

So the Whitewater River (which, as mentioned in the Encyclopedia  of Arkansas article, flows to the Little River) seems to begin very closer to a waterway labeled “Headwaters Access,” whatever the heck that is.  Wow.  Thanks to the earthquakes, this is one screwed up watershed.

Going back to my landing area.  The E of A article mentioned 958 miles of canals and ditches.  Here’s a patch of said waterways near my landing:

landing 3b

Before I forget, this is my first landing in the Little River watershed.  The Little (sort of) discharges to the St. Francis (5th hit, making the St. Francis the 162nd river on my list of rivers with 5 or more hits).  Here’s a map showing the St. Francis discharging into the MM (879th hit):

landing 3c

Before focusing on the New Madrid Earthquakes, here’s a GE map showing SV coverage for the Left Hand Chute:

ge sv left hand map

And here’s what the orange dude sees:

ge sv left hand

So now you know my hook (the New Madrid Earthquakes) and how I found it.  I immediately had the feeling that I had never featured the New Madrid Earthquakes on this blog, and a quick search proved that out.  It’s about time!

I’ll start with a USGS map showing the earthquake zone:

100628.New.Madrid.EQ usgs

From Wiki, here’s a quick rundown on the series of quakes in 1811 and 1812:

  • December 16, 1811 (2:15 a.m.); (mag. 7.5 -7.9) epicenter in northeast Arkansas.
  • December 16, 1811 (aftershock) (8:15 a.m.); (mag. 7.4) epicenter in northeast Arkansas. This shock followed the first earthquake by five hours and was similar in intensity.
  • January 23, 1812 (9:00 a.m.); (mag. 7.3 -7.6) epicenter in the Missouri Bootheel.
  • February 7, 1812 (3:45 a.m.); (mag. 7.5 -8.0) epicenter near New Madrid, Missouri. New Madrid was destroyed. In St. Louis, Missouri, many houses were severely damaged, and their chimneys were toppled. Uplift along a segment of the ruptured fault (now known as the Reelfoot fault) created temporary waterfalls on the Mississippi at Kentucky Bend, created waves that propagated upstream, and caused the formation of Reelfoot Lake by obstructing streams in what is now Lake County, Tennessee,

To keep us all oriented, here’s a map showing Reelfoot Lake:

landing reelfoot lake

What an amazing sequence.  Four very large earthquakes (just one termed an aftershock), all about the same magnitude, all very powerful.  It’s hard to imagine the damage and chaos that this same series of earthquakes would cause today.

Here are some great eye-witness descriptions (from Wiki):

John Bradbury was on the Mississippi on the night of December 15, 1811, and describes the tremors in great detail in his Travels in the Interior of America in the Years 1809, 1810 and 1811.

After supper, we went to sleep as usual: about ten o’clock, and in the night I was awakened by the most tremendous noise, accompanied by an agitation of the boat so violent, that it appeared in danger of upsetting … I could distinctly see the river as if agitated by a storm; and although the noise was inconceivably loud and terrific, I could distinctly hear the crash of falling trees, and the screaming of the wild fowl on the river, but found that the boat was still safe at her moorings.

By the time we could get to our fire, which was on a large flag in the stern of the boat, the shock had ceased; but immediately the perpendicular banks, both above and below us, began to fall into the river in such vast masses, as nearly to sink our boat by the swell they occasioned … At day-light we had counted twenty-seven shocks.

Pretty intense, eh?  And the riverbanks all collapsed into the river!

Eliza Bryan in New Madrid, wrote the following eyewitness account in March 1812.

On the 16th of December, 1811, about two o’clock, a.m., we were visited by a violent shock of an earthquake, accompanied by a very awful noise resembling loud but distant thunder, but more hoarse and vibrating, which was followed in a few minutes by the complete saturation of the atmosphere, with sulphurious vapor, causing total darkness. The screams of the affrighted inhabitants running to and fro, not knowing where to go, or what to do—the cries of the fowls and beasts of every species—the cracking of trees falling, and the roaring of the Mississippi— the current of which was retrograde for a few minutes, owing as is supposed, to an irruption in its bed— formed a scene truly horrible.

As a geologist, I should roll up my sleeves and try to understand the underlying geologic setting of the New Madrid Seismic Zone.  But what I should do and what I actually do are not always aligned.  I’ll settle with this brief (and vague) Wiki write-up:

The underlying cause of the earthquakes is not well understood, but modern faulting seems to be related to an ancient geologic feature buried under the Mississippi River alluvial plain, known as the Reelfoot Rift. The New Madrid Seismic Zone (NMSZ) is made up of reactivated faults that formed when what is now North America began to split apart during the breakup of the supercontinent Rodinia (about 750 million years ago). Numerous faults were created along the rift. The resulting fault system failed but has remained as an aulacogen (a scar or zone of weakness) deep underground.

That’s enough for me!

It’s time to put a wrap on this post.  Here’s a GE shot near my landing showing numerous Pano shots up near Big Lake):

ge pano shot map

I picked three for your viewing pleasure.  I’ll start with this shot of a cypress tree by Duckman870:

pano duckman870

And then this watery vista by RedCloudSky:

pano redcloudsky

I’ll close with a sunset shot, also by RedCloudSky:

pano redcloudsky2

That’ll do it . . .




© 2016 A Landing A Day




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