Musings

Hollywood goes out of town for some shoots. “Justified” used this bridge many times during its five years.

Clint Eastwood’s younger self…

…came through here. No word on whether he spoke to any of the chairs.

William Shatner (and many others) spent time on/in front of the formations in the Vazquez Rocks park. [Note me for scale.]

Ian/Spark walked by here on the PCT, crossing by the gate of the same park.

Several times we crossed the California Aqueduct. It carries water south from the Sierra Nevadas (snowy highlands) to SoCal, usually in an open canal. Ladders scale the sides every 1000ft, signs say; it’s wiser to never get into the water, however (duh!).

Speaking of water, we drove east all day toward an east-bound rain system. During this part of the day, we were behind it by several hours, and the desert had standing water—very unexpected to find the dryness ameliorated.

Eventually, we did drive into clouds, and the rain. It never came down hard, but for a bit we couldn’t see far. The radar sensors on the New Car gave us an extra measure of safety.

One more bit of technology…after several hours of driving, the vehicle presents a schematic of a steaming cup of coffee, and kindly enquires (in a rather Japanese way) “Would you like to Take Rest?” [BTW, the blue shading behind the MPH figure turns to red when Ludicrous (boosted speediness) mode is engaged…not that you’d forget!]

Posted at 11:23 PM | Comments Off on Hollywood, precipitation, and “Take Rest”

After coffee, our first stop (not including traffic lights and parking) was Chittenden Locks, often called Ballard Locks. Note the bascule bridge in the background (it’s down). We saw two passenger trains cross it, and at one time seven people in head-to-toe fluorescent clothing were on walkways in the general area of the bridge’s pivot. We were too far away to figure out what they were doing.

We watched this NOAA vessel traverse the small lock. We thought the yellow globes were weather buoys, and the brown discs were anchor-weights for them.

Lacking sufficient knowledge to visually ID many (any?) fish species, I told The Guru I was pretty sure these are steelheads. Wouldn’t you agree? Huh…huh?

Despite snow and ice last week, this weather-blemished rose is attempting to triumph against cold odds.

Late in the day, we went to Log Boom park, at the north end of Lake Washington. Cormorant on post to left and taxiing sea plane to the right (we saw it land headed straight for us, but way on the other side of the bay).

I figure these cormorants are trying to catch the day’s final rays. I do not know if they stay “posted” all night. It seems like their count is pretty close to one per post. By the shore, we saw several species of ducks and more cormorants, but they do prefer to be perched above the water. (Dry feet preference?)

Posted at 8:26 PM | Comments Off on Water views

We took a Sunday drive to the mountains to check the leaves and get out of Big A-Town. On the way up, we talked about how super-dry our autumn has become, and remembered that there have been forest fires in the mountains. I thought NC; the Guru said GA. Here’s the smokey evidence, and, yes, there are fires west of here in Georgia. That tree line and ridge are not far away. And, peeuwww.

Although many historic homesites have been abandoned, I think the number of standing structures has decreased over the last decade. This, then, is a bit of an outlier. That looks like a relatively narrow staircase inside the front door. [See how dry the grass is?]

Then we stopped at a train museum—even heard a whistle blow (not on this locomotive, however).

The Guru gifted me with this photo for a visual reminder of this morning’s time change…. Different world, catching the train for long-distance travel….

Walked through several dining and sleeping cars, even the Pullman car that Warren Harding used for a post-Presidency trip to the West Coast. After his untimely death in San Francisco, it carried his casket back to Washington DC. We were told that they had to remove a window to slide it into the lounge into the rear of the car.

No picture of Harding’s Pullman, but here’s the side of a Milk Tank Car. Don’t see those anymore. This pre-plastic jugs….

Posted at 6:24 PM | Comments Off on (Smoky) Blue Ridge Mountains

I was so surprised to spot the Conestoga wagon (or whatever kind of covered wagon it is) in the side shed of this grain elevator yesterday. So surprised I forgot to post it, I guess. See it, the arched white canvas(?) top with a red-painted wooden box? For parades and the like?

Posted at 10:55 PM | Comments Off on SO Ohio, v.2

Much of today became about images to me. Our day dawned without dawn, just a lightening that followed rain in darkness. That’s Lake Superior, our witness throughout most of today’s adventures.

This is today’s most image-y image. That’s my patella, upper right, and I am told I have loose knees. One has been ailing, got a shot, and I think at least temporary recovery is in sight.

Recently, I got my book club to read “Anatomy of a Murder” and see the movie. This is the tavern were the movie scenes were shot. It was a wing built onto the hotel for the shooting of the movie in 1959. The book is based on a real murder that happened in this town.

The stuffed peacock upper right is a nod to the present owners, the Peacock family. No peacock was on the menu.

You can stay at this lighthouse B&B. Prepare for a windy time.

The sun was out (briefly) as we toured by this stunning maple.

Then we found what we called mushroom beach. Mushrooms peppered the forest floor under the (planted pines) and we even found them among the (planted) beach grasses.

This is an active ore dock just north of Marquette proper, and quiet today. Last time we visited, there was an ore carrier docked but no loading happening.

We had a most excellent meal. The cheesecake with marinated cherries did not last….

And, then, appropriately in our rearview mirror, sunset….

Posted at 10:22 PM | 1 Comment »

These are two outbuildings in Blaney Park. This alley is mostly ghost town, but some of the buildings on the main road remain in use. Blakey was quite the resort in its day, with a landing strip and swimming lake, golf course and dance hall. Now, the dance hall is mostly closed, almost no one swims in the lake, and the others are…archaeological.

Then I went industrial, and saw this hanger, larger than its denizens.

We ended the day at a loverly restaurant, all very yummy—beet salad! whitefish salad!—and more…. Even better was the company, of course.

Posted at 9:58 PM | 1 Comment »

I went to town today. This is downtown. Lake view…an empty tooth amidst a row of cottages.

Among the errands on my list was laundry. These are the facilities behind the “mat.” This may be proof that this community is really a village.

I recall posting a shot of this infestation when all was green. The PI is now assorted reds and oranges. The greens and yellows are milkweeds. Imagine how difficult a jigsaw puzzle with this mosaic would be to piece together.

It may not look like it from these photos, but the sun came out for long enough after my erranding that the sun porch warmed up nicely.

Posted at 4:56 PM | Comments Off on To town

We gambled with the weather and headed out to Fayette, an industrial ghost town. These two furnaces (rebuilt, I’m pretty sure) produced over 230K tons of charcoal-iron over 23 years, ending in 1890. This mean the surrounding area was dotted with charcoal kilns to provided fuel for the furnaces (over 80 within 10 miles). In a generation, the forests were gone and so was the operation.

This was the town’s hotel, later called Shelton House. Most of the rooms are on the second floor and the back of the structure has a two-story outhouse, so that roomers did not have to descend or use a chamber pot.

A new industry has come to the Garden Peninsula, just a few miles north of the ghost town—we counted about fifteen wind turbines, all generating on this windy day.

We detoured to the Big Spring on the way back, aka Kitch-iti-kipi. No fishing allowed so there are giant trout. One is that vertical black line at the bottom center of the photo.

Posted at 6:58 PM | Comments Off on Blustery day

We crossed this long flat stretch, marred by puddles crossing the road, knowing that the dribbles and currents they carried were waters of the Tahquamenon that evaded the culverts. We drove north, and it almost looks like it’s swamp all the way to Lake Superior; however, if you look closely, you can see the ground does ridge to the north. The swamp will end after maybe a dozen more big puddles.

Eagle’s Nest has changed a little over the years—and almost not at all, simultaneously. The bridge and cabins, yes, they come and go and are modified. The river—this is the Tahquamenon again—looks very much the same as in my oldest memories of this place.

On up in Grand Marais (perhaps a corruption of maré, meaning sea, and transformed into marais, meaning swamp—which there isn’t here on Lake Superior’s shore, at least not a huge one), we once again beheld the Pickle Barrel House (on the National Register, BTW). This was a two-story home with a kitchen in an extension behind, built for Chicago cartoonist William Donahey, who drew The Teenie Weenies. He and his wife used it for a decade at its original location on Sable Lake, then it was moved to town.

Of all things to find in Grand Marais, a food truck! With “burgers” and “taco’s,” I kid you not.

Turning homeward, we looped through the wildlife drive at the Refuge, and found this swan sleeping on one foot. We saw many swans feeding, often with a few ducks? (grebes? coots?) futzing around them. The latter didn’t seem to also be feeding, and we couldn’t figure out what the advantage was of hanging with the swans, close enough to sometimes annoy them.

Posted at 6:54 PM | Comments Off on To the north

Her-mean* is long gone, northeast-bound, and we are headed back to highs in the 90s°F.

I marinated pork loin rounds in soy-garlic tempered with toasted sesame oil for tonight, and, yum.

That’s the pronunciation, although the spelling is Hermine. And if you were amidst it, it was a mean storm.

Posted at 7:48 PM | Comments Off on A fork is a wye