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 and what the various numbers and abbreviations mean in the first paragraph), please see “About Landing,” (and “Abbreviations” and “Cryptic Numbers”) above.
Landing number 2183; A Landing A Day blog post number 611.
Dan: It’s getting ugly. Here’s my fifth OSer in a row . . . MI; 54/42; 3/10; 5; 151.1. Here’s my regional landing map:
By the way, I missed OH by less than three miles (more about that later). My local landing map follows:
Although I landed in Michigan, the big geographical hub isn’t in Michigan, it’s in neighboring Ohio:
Although this post won’t touch on Toledo, it was painful for me to miss Ohio. I mean, really. Take a look at this Google Earth (GE) map, which shows landings since January 2013:
Look at all of those Michigan, Illinois and Indiana landings, and not one Ohio landing! In fact, my last Ohio landing was in 2009! And strangely, check out this list of my Ohio landings since I started my blog in November of 2008:
Landing 1706, Apr 2009 (Oxford)
Landing 1775, Aug 2009 (Geneva-on-the-Lake)
Landing 1806, Oct 2009 (Waverly)
Landing 1809, Nov 2009 (Swanton)
So, after two practically back-to-back Ohio landings (#ers 1806 & 1809), the Landing God decided to put an end to Ohio visitation. Of course, Ohio is a USer . . .
Before I leave Ohio, check out this StreetAtlas map shot:
Look at the streets along the state line. It certainly looks like Ohio welcomes development more than Michigan . . .
Anyway, let me take care of my watershed analysis:
As you can see, I landed in the watershed of the Ottawa Lake Outlet; on to the North Tenmile Creek; and then slithering down into Ohio, to the Tenmile Creek.
Don’t ask me why I used “slithering.” Anyway, here’s the rest of the story:
Tenmile Creek makes its way to the Ottawa River (first hit ever!), which just makes it back into Michigan before discharging into Lake Erie (10th hit). Of course, Lake Erie is in the St. Lawrence R watershed (99th hit).
Just for the record, this was my second “Tenmile Creek.” My first was in West Virginia.
Time for my Google Earth (GE) trip in:
Notice that I landed on a golf course? Here’s a static GE shot:
As seen on this Street View shot, I landed on the grounds of the Whiteford Valley Golf Club:
By the way, there’s a “foot golf” course at Whiteford as well. I for one had never heard of foot golf. Here’s the Whiteford Valley website has to say:
At one time or another, every golfer has been frustrated by the task of guiding his ball into one of those tiny 4.25-inch holes on the putting green. The new 21-inch holes installed on Whiteford Valley’s East Golf Course this season sound like they’d be easier to aim for – but there’s a catch. You have to put away your golf clubs and use your feet.
Welcome to FootGolf, a hybrid of golf and soccer that’s been sweeping the world of golf in recent years. The idea of blending golf and soccer has been around for decades, but it wasn’t until the 1980s that Dutch enthusiasts created official rules and courses for the sport. It is now a recognized tournament sport in over 20 countries, and the American FootGolf League recognizes 85 participating U.S. courses in 29 states.
FootGolf is played with a regulation #5 soccer ball, and its basic rules are like those of golf: the first shot at each hole has to be taken from the tee, and players must play past the usual array of bunkers, trees, water hazards and hills.
Here’s a Wiki picture of a foot golf match by Las Vegas Footgolf:
For the record, this is my second golf course landing. The first was landing 1793 (Sep 2009) in Ambler PA. Here’s my GE shot from that post:
Here’s what I said then: It turns out that I was on the edge of the 10th fairway. The tee is up near the club house; the 10th green is down by the road. Here’s a picture from the tee; I’ve put a black dot on my landing spot. This is amazing! My first ALAD photo showing where I actually landed!
Since then, with the expansion of Street View coverage, I have often posted pictures of precise landing spots, like this memorable Gladstone Oregon landing shot, where I landed on the edge of a dive shop parking lot:
Moving right along . . . I could find nothing about the town of Ottowa Lake; so I figured I’d check out the lake itself. Yea, right. It turns out that the lake itself is not obvious. My best guess is this:
Here’s a closer view, showing that this isn’t much of a lake; much less a lake that would get a town named after it!
I spent an inordinate amount of internet time trying to find out something about the town’s name or the lake itself. Nothing. Rien. Nada.
Maybe you can tell by the amount of non-hook material I’ve been presenting, that this is pretty much a hookless area. OK, so one of the towns’ name is Temperance. Here’s what Wiki has to say:
Temperance was established as Bedford Center in 1859. In 1884, a post office was established at Bedford Center and was named Temperance. The name was suggested by Martha Ansted, the wife of one of the founding land owners. Martha Ansted was a member of the Woman’s Christian Temperance Union.
The Ansteds wrote restrictions into the deeds for all of the property they owned, specifying that alcohol could never be sold there. Other early settlers followed their lead. The restrictions lasted about 100 years, then were repealed on the initiative of a local businesswoman.
OK, enough Temperance. How about Erie? This from Wiki:
Erie was started in 1790 by Métis moving south from Monroe. Early on, a log church named St. Joseph sur la Baie Miami was built here. Father Gabriel Richard often would conduct Mass here. When a post office was established here in 1827, it was given the name of Bay Settlement.
First, a minor point: “St. Joseph sur la Baie Miami” translates to St. Joseph on the Miami Bay. The Maumee River (not Miami, but close enough) is the main waterway through Toledo (a much bigger river south of the little Ottawa River), and I assume that “Maumee Bay” more-or-less refers to the far western corner of Lake Erie.
But of potentially greater interest: Erie was started by Métis moving south from Monroe? It turns out that Monroe is town just 10 miles north of Erie. So who or what are Métis? From the Métis Nation of Ontario website:
The Métis are a distinct Aboriginal people with a unique history, culture, language and territory that includes the waterways of Ontario, surrounds the Great Lakes and spans what was known as the historic Northwest.
The Métis Nation is comprised of descendants of people born of relations between Indian women and European men. The initial offspring of these unions were of mixed ancestry. The genesis of a new Aboriginal people called the Métis resulted from the subsequent intermarriage of these mixed ancestry individuals.
Distinct Métis settlements emerged as an outgrowth of the fur trade, along freighting waterways and watersheds. In Ontario, these settlements were part of larger regional communities, interconnected by the highly mobile lifestyle of the Métis, the fur trade network, seasonal rounds, extensive kinship connections and a shared collective history and identity.
Wiki added this footnote:
Other former names—many of which are now considered to be offensive—include Bois-Brûlés, Mixed-bloods, Half-breeds, Bungi, Black Scots and Jackatars.
Who’d a thunk?
The Métis flag is very simple (and it’s infinity, not 8):
I searched far and wide for a suitable closing GE Panoramio shot. Consistent with the hookless nature of this post, I couldn’t find one. Not even a cool old barn. So, here’s a shot on Route 23 North, heading into Michigan by j_racine30:
That’ll do it.
KS
Greg
© 2015 A Landing A Day
A Landing a Day 