Ocala National Forest Florida

The Silver Glen Springs

The Ocala National Forest holds the distinction of being the only National Forest within the National Forest System that is sub-tropical. It comprises almost 400,000 acres, and is located in Central Florida just above that tourist “mecca” Orlando (aka Disney World and Co.). The Ocala National Forest was established in 1908.

We have been to and through the Ocala National Forest several times before. Most recently, in 2007, we paused for a brief hike/excursion in the Juniper Springs area. This past fall, we stopped at the Silver Glen Springs area and hiked from the springs out about a mile to Lake George.

We ate lunch, where else, alongside the Silver Glen Spring. It was a beautiful spot and the spring was, well, pretty much like several other springs I have seen in Florida. The water was clear and appeared to have a blue-greenish, almost a turquoise, tint. It was warm enough that there were swimmers in the swimming area. I know that most people think about beaches and amusement parks when they think about Florida. But I would suggest that they need to be like the early Spanish Explorer, the purported “discoverer” of the place, Ponce De Leon and go searching for its springs. You may not find "a fountain of youth" but you surely will find some beautiful scenery!

Next we hiked along a trail which left the spring area, climbed a short distance over a hammock, and then began a slow descent toward our destination, Lake George. The hike was unlike my earlier hikes in the Ocala forest. At Silver Glen Springs we were walking through pure forest and not following a spring, creek or any type of water-course. Further, the vegetation around us was decidedly sub-tropical.

The highlight of our time on the trail however, occurred about ½ out to Lake George. We had heard an unusual bird call, and had stopped for a moment. I was looking around attempting to locate the originator of the sound, when all of a sudden, a large brownish bird took flight from a nearby tree. As it became airborne, I saw the unmistakable white patches that mark the colororation of the American Bald Eagle. Of course it quickly flew away, but nevermind, I had been very close to it, the closest I have ever been to a Bald Eagle in the wild. It was an awesome sight.

About a half mile more and we walked through a low marshy area and finally arrived at the shores of Lake George. Lake George is just one of many lakes that are located along the course of the St. John’s River. The St. John’s River, is, in reality, an ancient intracoastal lagoon system. As it flows northward along its 310 miles up through the eastern part of Florida, it enters and leaves several lakes. Because of this, it is often called “The River of Lakes.” Lake George is the 2nd largest lake in Florida (Okeechobee is the largest), and the largest of the lakes in the St. John’s system. Lake George is noted, among other things, for its bass fishing.

After a few minutes spent admiring the lake, (for we had no tackle, nor did we have a Florida Fishing License) we returned from whence we came and continued our journey on to the north, Jacksonville Florida (and co-incidentally up the St. John’s River).

Ellenton Florida

First off, my apologies to all my “regular followers” (all 3 or 4 of you), I have been away, gathering new material for my blog, and so I haven’t posted in a while.

All the Bells and Whistles

As my “regulars” know, this is not a blog devoted to food and fine dining. While I am beyond the mere “fast food joint,” I do not consider myself enough of a connoisseur to evaluate food, its ingredients, preparation or presentation. And this particular blog does not deviate from my intention. For even though today I am blogging about a Restaurant, The Roaring 20’s Pizza and Pipes (Ellenton is near Bradenton FL) I am not blogging because of the food. Rather, I am blogging because their “entertainment” a “Mighty Wurlitzer Theater Pipe Organ.”

Their instrument was originally installed in 1931 in the Paramount Theater in Oakland CA. The theater lasted only a year. The organ was finally “resurrected” in the early 1960’s in a restaurant down the coast near LA. Next it was moved to Indianapolis IN where it also played in a restaurant for a while. Then, there was the chance that it would go to Germany, however, these plans fell through, it was sold again and ended up here in Florida playing for the crowd of “Seniors” who live and visit in the Bradenton/Sarsota area.

The figures concerning this instrument read almost like the specs for a new car:
20 Horsepower Blower, delivering 3,000 cubic feet of air per minute 42 ranks of pipes, 3,000 over all with the largest 16 feet tall; 14 " diameter
26 miles of wiring
350 controls with 278 tabs
31,250 lbs in weight
In short, it is one big, art deco machine!

And the organists concerned know how to play it, all of it, not only the pipes, but all the bells, whistles, horns tweeters, celestas, “birds” etc. It was a lot of fun to listen to Chattanooga Choo Choo, songs from Phantom of the Opera, and other like-minded pieces.

Oh yes, the Pizza, well, I guess it’s okay. But as I said above, this is NOT a food blog.

Bradenton Florida

The Gamble Plantation State Park

I had wanted to stop by this small park for some time, and thus, in planning my route to and from the DeSoto Monument I made sure that we went past this park.

There is not really too much to the park. It is just a tabby house that was obviously built in sections during the 1840’s (it is, however, the only Ante-Bellum house in South Florida) after the conclusion of the Second Seminole War. Robert Gamble was the man who built the house. He was the son of a wealthy sugar planter from the around Tallahassee area, and claimed 3,400 plus acres. He worked the plantation with about 180 or so slaves for about 10 years. During this period of time he raised mostly red ink, as opposed to sugar, his supposed crop. Consequently, he began selling off portions of the property to satisfy his creditors.

Finally, he moved away just prior to the outbreak of the Civil War. Consequently, during that conflict his property, now abandoned, was taken over by the Confederate Government and used as a “commissary.” Thanks to its location, close to a waterway leading off of Tampa Bay, the house and its surrounding buildings were used by the blockade runners. It is reported that one of the Blockade runners, Captain Archibald McNeil moved into the house in 1865.

It is also believed by many that Judah P. Benjamin, the Confederate Attorney General, Secretary of War, and finally Secretary of State made his way to the Gamble Plantation House after the fall of Richmond VA. Reportedly Benjamin stayed here a few weeks while he arranged passage for himself to England. Whether it was from this house or not, the fact remains that Benjamin was one of the very few members of the Confederacy’s Executive Branch to successfully flee to Europe in the immediate aftermath of the war. Shortly after he landed in Victorian England he passed his Bar Exam and became a successful, albeit somewhat quiet, lawyer who even tried cases before the House of Lords.

For us, this trip also had a family interest as well. Since Benjamin was one of our family names, I thought I needed to find out a bit more about the man on the off-hand chance we might have been distantly related. However, after a few short minutes with the Ranger at the house I found that it is very unlikely that Judah P. Benjamin was one of my Benjamins. Judah was born into a family of Sephardic Jewish settlers, and had to detour with his family to the West Indies on their immigrant voyage to America owing to the outbreak of the War of 1812. I already knew that my Benjamin family came to this country from England to work for Lord Fairfax in Virginia during the middle 1700’s. Thus, I have determined that if there ever was any relation between our families it would have been way back, particularly since Judah P. Benjamin’s folks traced their heritage to Spain.

Family issues aside, the house was very interesting. Despite the imposing-looking Doric Columns across the front, the Gamble Plantation House is basically a tabby structure with many features that were designed to make it more livable during the hot times of summer of which this area has a lot. Out in back of the house there was an old cane press that had been used for making sugar in ante-bellum times. We examined this machinery after touring the house. There is also the ruins of a sugar cane mill on the property, however, the press of time, it was near closing, precluded a side trip to the mill.

Bradenton Florida

De Soto National Memorial

For those of you who have been followers of this blog, particularly over the last 6 months, I have some news, its badness or goodness depends upon your perspective. I think that the sharing our 2008 trip to the Pacific Northwest is at an end. For those who have followed each posting with a raptured suspense I am sure you are saddened. No more pictures of Lava, no more musings on how this all came to be, no more comments about life as we know it today. For those of you who were of the opinion “Can’t the fool talk about anything else?” I am sure you are thrilled to find out your agony is at last at an end. (When I was growing up, a standing joke held that nothing was more boring than going over to a neighbor’s house to be treated with a slide show about their latest trip to Aunt Mabel’s. Sometimes, I thought my blog was degenerating to that level.)

Out of a desire to depart from the boring sameness the recounting of our exploits in Oregon might arouse, on occasion, sights from other current happenings in my life broke in. One of the first blogs to depart from our Oregon trip was my posting about Florida’s Manatees. I had so wanted to see them in the wild, I was so thrilled to do so, and I was so saddened by what I saw, I knew I would have to break into my on-gong narrative.

Well, that Manatee posting was from our trip to Florida to spend Thanksgiving with my OLDER sister. So now that we have left Oregon behind, let us move onto the sunny south, Florida, once more (Oh no, another travelogue? Well, maybe, after all that is what this blog is mostly about, traveling through the stations of life.)

One area of Florida that we (A. & me) had never seen was the Bradenton area. One place I particular I wanted to see was the De Soto National Memorial area. Now you must understand, I have enough knowledge of the history of the early Spanish explorers to be dangerous. So I was well aware of the fact that the spot within the city limits of Bradenton Florida designated for the memorial to the landing is just a spot that tradition holds was the place based, in part, on a reading of the extant records of the expedition and interpreting the topographical features in light of what the coast line looks like today.

That is to say, I am aware of the fact that no one is exactly sure at what precise spot, Hernado De Soto and his band of “explorers” splashed ashore in Florida in May of 1839, just as we are not sure at exactly what spot Narvaez landed in 1528, or Ponce De Leon landed in 1513 (though most scholars agree this last landing was on the Atlantic Coast). And, for that matter, there is some debate about where the Englishman Frances Drake put up on the Pacific Coast for repairs in the midst of making his around the world sojourn. I mean, give all these guys a break. They didn’t have GPS. Most of the maps they were carrying with them showed that the area we now know is the continent of North America was “incognito” and in particular the idea that there might be a huge land mass in that vicinity was non-existent. And if there was any land shown for this area, it was just a few islands.

But someone somewhere, in this case a local Tampa Bay Historical group, a unit of the Colonial Dames of America, erected a monument to De Soto’s landing at a spot on Shaw’s Point near Bradenton Florida. To be fair, apparently their decision was based, in part, on the considered opinion of a few historical researchers hired by the Federal Government during the 1930’s. This monument was erected in 1939 just in time to commemorate the 400th Anniversary of the original landing. Nine years after the monument was unveiled the Federal Government designated the area surrounding the monument, comprising in all slightly less that 30 acres, the De Soto National Memorial. (For a more complete description of this process see: http://www.nationalparkstraveler.com/2008/03/park-history-de-soto-national-memorial.)

At any rate, even if we are not sure whether De Soto landed here, or even saw the place, the National Park Service has made an effort to at least give visitors to the monument an idea about who De Soto was, what he did, and did not do, and the overall significance of his 4 year odyssey in the new world. Since this is supposed to be a Memorial to his landing, an attempt has been made to re-create the first “camp” that De Soto and his men made upon landing. The exhibit is called Camp Uzita. During the winter months it is staffed with interpreters, but we were there “out-of-season” and were unfortunate enough to arrive just after a Ranger talk had been given. Thus, we missed the full “treatment of this area.

There is also a “nature walk” through the park area. When De Soto landed (whether or not it was exactly here), most of this coastal area was a Mangrove Swamp. Thus, this was a walk through a Mangrove Swamp. As we walked along the path we had a very interesting walk, albeit it was obviously not anything at all like what De Soto and his men sloshed through. Nevertheless, as we went along we stopped and read the various displays relating to the “natural history” as well as the history of De Soto’s expedition.

After a short distance, we reached a point of land jutting out into Tampa Bay. I am sure at the time of De Soto’s landing, this point looked out on a shoreline of more mangrove swamps. But obviously today it looks out on Bradenton Florida. Who needs a mangrove swamp when you can have a boat dock or a beach (unless, of course, you are concerned about protecting the eco-system from damages during a hurricane)?

As we returned from our “swamp walk” we passed the monument again. As we did, we took time to notice the immense tree growing near-by. It is a “Gumbo-Limbo” tree, a tree native to Florida and much of the Caribbean area. It is also called “The Tourist Tree” by many native Floridians because (and here I quote from the above noted web-site else my family think this is just some more of my own brand of “corn”): “In South Florida, gumbo-limbo has been called the tourist tree because of its red, flaking skin.”

All in all, I think we all appreciated the chance we had to visit the De Soto National Memorial, whether it is, or is not, the actual spot where De Soto landed. They have appeared to have done a good job with what they had, and at least helped us to see the importance of this period of our history for us today.

Milwaukee Wisconsin

Journey to a Land of Water Wind and Fire

Epilogue 3: Milwaukee

A “Hot Time” in the “Old Town” That Night

Well, after our magnificent sunset in the Columbia River Gorge, I was in hopes that the weather would hold for our eastbound trip on The Empire Builder. Alas, it was not to be. After a promising start the next morning, promising, but not as pretty as it was on the trip I made Eastbound on the Empire Builder in 2004, the weather steadily deteriorated.

However, we arrived on time the next morning in the Twin Cities. Unfortunately, we were there on Monday September1, 2008, just as the 2008 Republican Convention was getting started. Anyway, the Republicans (warning, the site may load slowly, due to political philosophy no doubt), you remember them, the ones with all those big Amtrak supporters such as John McCain and all that (oh, I’m sorry, I forgot, I thought this was a site devoted to fiction), . . . well, anyway, there were so many private rail cars in the yards that our train could not leave using the normal route. We had to back out of the station and take an alternate. The end result of this maneuver was that we lost 30 minutes. We spent another 30 minutes just east of Winona MN waiting on a drawbridge across the Mississippi to be lowered.

Thus, we pulled into Milwaukee 1 hour late (still not bad considering the distance we had traveled since Portland OR). I had scheduled a stop-over in Milwaukee because I knew that there was not much time between the Empire Builder’s arrival time in Chicago and the Cardinal’s departure. So rather then run the risk and worry about “Will I make it or not?” all across the upper mid-West (and also maybe hold up fellow passengers on the Cardinal), I had intentionally scheduled a stop-over in Milwaukee and had tickets for one of the Hiawatha runs for the next day.

Besides, even though I had been through Milwaukee now several times, I had never stopped there. Even more specifically, I had never spent time in Wisconsin before, just ridden through on the train.

The first item of business upon our arrival was dinner. I had wanted a good German meal (I remembered that Milwaukee had a good German heritage) and a fellow passenger on the Empire Builder absolutely insisted the only restaurant to even consider for German Food in Milwaukee is Mader’s. Well, obviously in one night we couldn’t sample them all, but I must say Mader’s was a fine restaurant and yes, I would like to go there again (but no, I am not including pictures of my meal, recipes etc., those of you, all 1 or 2, who regularly read this space know that this is not that type of blog).

After our meal we walked through a little bit of the city, and were awed with what we saw. Those of you with long memories will remember, we had started off on this trip with an architectural tour of Chicago, some old buildings such as Marshall Fields for sure, but mostly new ones with curves, spikes, angles, glass reflections and all. Well, here in Milwaukee we did sort of a mini-tour. And what we saw amazed us.

I had seen a building in the Second Empire style of architecture on the short cab ride from the station to our hotel. This amazed me. I had not seen a structure like this since the Philadelphia (PA) City Hall or the Executive Office Building west of the White House in DC. So, not surprisingly, on our walk we took a closer look at this French Empire Building, and at its neighbor, a fine specimen of the Richardson Romanesque design. Both of them were not “public” buildings, but had been built as office buildings. We assumed they were still fulfilling this function in elegant fashion.

In our meanderings, we walked along the Milwaukee River several times. I knew, from what I had read before starting on our trip, that at one time the river front was a “heavy” industry area (the industry being mostly beer or beer-related concerns of course). But I also knew that most of that industry was gone, and in its place Milwaukee was trying to make over its river front. They even have an citizens organization, Milwaukee Riverkeeper, involved in their efforts.

Well, at least from what we saw they seem to have done a fine job. Of course, we were there on the shank end of the day, and the lighting was great for picture taking!

Our Sleeping Car Attendant on the Empire Builder lived in Milwaukee and he strongly recommended that we get over to the lakefront to check out the Milwaukee Art Museum’s building. He mentioned that it had movable wings (I understand the technical term is “brise soleil”) on it. So, the next morning, we set out to do just that. We knew we didn’t have time to take a look inside, but the building alone promised to make our efforts worthwhile. Indeed it did. As you can see from the picture, during the period of time we were there the wings appeared to be spread. According to the web-site the position of the wings is dictated in part by the winds, obviously a vital concern for a Lake Michigan site. The structure, really only a part of the entire Milwaukee Art Museum, was designed by Spanish architect Santiago Calatrava.

We would have liked to have tarried a bit longer, but we had “a train (actually 2) to catch.” So, too soon, our short stay was over. Milwaukee, you were a nice closing to a wonderful trip.

The Columbia River Gorge

Journey to a Land of Water Wind and Fire

Epilogue 2: The Columbia River Gorge

An Evening Cruise

One of the real starting points for this entire trip was when A. suggested we take a cruise on the Columbia River. She showed me the brochures and asked me what I thought. I agreed with her it would be a beautiful trip. However, upon looking at the price they wanted to sail for 8 days in cramped quarters up an inland river, I suggested an equally scenic possibility, taking Amtrak's Empire Builder through the gorge.

Unfortunately, on our way out the weather was not all that great. It wasn't bad, mind you, it just was not as good as it could have been. I knew, I had come through the Gorge on an early morning ride in 2002 that was magnificent.

However, I held out hope. Even when, on our trip back into Portland, the clouds gathered around us once more.

Even as we finished touring the Chinese Garden, it still appeared that we would once more have a cloudy trip. And then, just as we boarded the Empire Builder that evening, the sun broke through. And thus we had a wonderful trip up the gorge away from the setting sun.

The only problem was, it was one of those settings, which is hard to capture on a photo, especially if you are using "point and shoot" equipment from a moving train. So, while the following gives some idea of the beauty that we saw, even now, months later, in my minds eye, I know that what we saw far surpassed our abilities to capture the moment.

But that is the way it often is.

Portland Oregon

Journey to a Land of Water Wind and Fire

Epilogue 1: Portland Oregon

Classically Chinese

Well, we finally did make it down from McKenzie Pass, and completed our circle route by arriving once more in Eugene, over 1000 miles after we started from there 10 days ago. The next morning we caught the 9:00 AM Cascades Train up to Portland. Our train back east didn’t leave until 4:00 P.M. but the way the schedules worked out, it was best to take this early train, plus it left us more time in Portland.


One of the really good features about Amtrak travel is that in most cities, Richmond VA’s Staples Mills Road station being one of the worst exceptions, when you arrive at the station you are in the heart of town already. And if you have a lay-over, as we did, you have options other than sitting in a straight-backed plastic chair attempting to read the latest novel, the newspaper, or even, horrors, papers from your place of business.

Instead you can check your bags (there is a fee per bag), and walk to a nearby “destination” and check it out. And that is what we did.


I had had a layover in Portland on 2 previous occasions (including the layover on the way out on this trip). Each time I/we had considered visiting the Portland Classical Chinese Garden which is within easy walking distance of the station. But for various reasons I/we had not gone. But today would be different. So we checked our bags and off we went.

The Portland Classical Chinese Garden occupies an entire city block (about 40,000 square feet) that used to be a parking lot. The garden is the result of a Sister Cities agreement between Portland Oregon and Suzhou China. Artisans from Suzhou came over and built this garden in downtown Portland, and in return, Portland gave Suzhou a Rose Garden (Portland prides itself on its roses). Ironically, the rocks used in the garden (more on these later) were imported from the area around Suzhou China, but the plants were strictly American-grown descendents of Chinese plants that had been brought over many years ago. This is because of the strict agricultural importation requirements in place today.


I have been in Chinese (and Chinese-influenced) gardens before. When I was stationed in Korea back in the late 1960’s I visited several of the palaces in Seoul, and walked through their gardens. However, these visits were all in the winter, and, to be honest, everything in Korea was a bit ragged from a seasonal and an economic point-of-view at that time. Korea in the late 1960’s was just beginning to overcome the ill effects of having your front yard, your back yard, your kitchen etc. in the middle of a war zone with bombs, rockets, bullets, mines, runaway tanks etc. They had not yet produced their economic miracle (though evidences of its emergence were all around us). Accordingly, the palaces I visited, while public recreation areas, were not necessarily being kept up to the standards of a strict oriental garden.

More importantly, when we were in Vancouver BC about 4 years ago, A. and I visited the Sun-Yat-Sen Garden in that city. Thus, we both had some idea of what we would see in this garden. And this helped because often when an American goes to visit a “Garden” one expects to see lots of flowers such as these poinsettias at the Phipps Conservatory in Pittsburgh.


Then again, one often expects to see certain total plant environments replicated, as in this steamy tropical forest at the United States Botanical Garden in DC.

And if the garden is outside, one often expects to see elaborate designs made using the plants as the materials, such as in the maze in the Governor’s Palace gardens in Colonial Williamsburg VA.

But a Chinese Garden is a bit different. It is composed of five elements. The first element is water, both still, as in this shot of Zither Lake in the Garden, and also in waterfalls.

The second, and most obvious component is “flowers” such as this lotus blossom. Flowers in a Chinese garden are chosen to provide the maximum amount of beauty, the maximum amount of the time during the year. Further, they are often chosen with an eye towards whether or not they might be edible.


These two elements, water and flowers, are common in many western gardens. However, they are only the beginning of a Classical Chinese Garden.

The third element of a Classical Chinese Garden is the presence of many rocks. Some of these rocks have been placed upright in this garden. They are called Tai Hu, and are from a particular limestone quarry located at a freshwater lake near Suzhou. They are considered especially auspicious due to their porous nature and their weight distribution. Now I must admit, having spent a lot of time in Greenbrier County WV, I have seen, touched, moved, got mad at, etc. many limestone rocks. I knew that for all their hardness when struck with a pick ax, or a drill bit, they are water soluble. That is to say, when exposed to water they will quickly erode. All of that said, I had never quite seen anything like the limestone rocks I saw standing in this garden.

But not all the rocks are standing up in the garden. Many small river pebbles were laid out in intricate patterns to form the walk-ways that one uses as one strolls through the garden. There are several designs for these stones, only one of which is shown here.


The fourth element of a Chinese Garden is the architecture. A Classical Chinese Garden is noted for having many structures, such as the ones pictured in the first shot up above. This is because a Classical Chinese Garden was not only a place of beauty to visit, it was often considered to be an essential part of the home’s living space.

But it was not only that the Classical Chinese Garden has many structures, many American Gardens of late have been sprouting wooden decks, patios, gazebos and metal equipment buildings. In a Classical Chinese Garden it is important to consider the way in which these buildings were designed.

One of the more prominent features in the buildings is the presence of “Leak Windows” as pictured in this shot. They received this name because they allow the beauty in the garden to leak through the wall into the adjoining space.


But there is more to this type of architecture than just windows. There are stone carvings on the walls, around the eves and even on the roofs. Also there is a generous use of wood, in furniture, and also in many elaborate carvings around the windows and sometimes on the walls.

Finally, and this is the 5th element, in a true Classical Chinese Garden there are literary inscriptions, such as seen on the two banners. These inscriptions are found at several places in the garden both inside the building and outside, on rocks, over the waterfall, and even hidden in amongst the plants. These inscriptions are pieces of Chinese poetry. The poems used are chosen with an eye towards deepening one’s experience of the garden.

All in all, we had a very delightful lay-over in Portland. It sure beat sitting around an airport reading a week-old magazine and eating greasy fast food.

Abraham Lincoln

For those of you who may be wondering, no, I do not intend to leave my narrative of our trip to the Pacific Northwest stuck out at McKenzie Pass Oregon, as magnificent as that scenery was. I will get us back. But too much else is happening right now. For example:

A. Lincoln in Kentucky

This February 12, 2009, starts a year long celebration of the 200th Birthday of our 16th President, Abraham Lincoln. In honor of this event, I too wish to start where Lincoln did, in Kentucky. While Kentucky has many places that honor the memory of Lincoln and his family, for they were, after all, from Kentucky, three stand out in my mind.

The first, and most obvious place, is the farm where he was born, “Sinking Creek” Farm. Visitors there today will find an immense Neo-Classical Marble structure covering a “symbolic birth cabin.” The reality of the situation was that by the time the nation got around to honoring the nativity of Lincoln, the cabin of his birth had long since rotted away, that being the nature of structures composed of untreated logs erected in a place of dampness such as the vicinity of a sinking creek. And so, those eminent-thinking Victorians who developed the site erected what they considered a fitting memorial, and placed within it the next best thing to his nativity, a cabin they found on a neighboring place.

The second place, and just a few short miles down the road, is the farm where Lincoln and his family moved when he was a young boy, Knob Creek Farm. Here too, the actual cabin where Lincoln lived with his family had disappeared into that moist soft loam that untreated log cabins sink into by the time the restoration folks came around. And so materials from another cabin, again a neighboring cabin this time one of Lincoln’s boyhood friends, was used in a restoration of the Knob Creek Farm Cabin.

The third, and for me the most meaningful, place is the Talbott Tavern in Bardstown KY. This building, still largely the same as it was back in the early 1800’s (despite a fire during the 1990’s) is reputed to be the “oldest stage coach stop in America.” It also became the home for the young Abraham Lincoln and his family when they were evicted from “their” Knob Creek Farm after losing a Land Title dispute (early frontier Kentucky was notorious for Land Title Disputes and many both the famous, Daniel Boone, and otherwise, found themselves thrown off “their land” from time to time).

Lincoln and his mother and sister stayed at Talbott Tavern while his father crossed the Ohio River to enter the newer frontier of Indiana in search of a new non-disputable place for the family to live. Lincoln’s days in this Tavern weren’t too long in time, as time goes in one who lived as eventful a life as Lincoln. But, the fact of the matter was, and is, that during these formative years of his life, for a while, A. Lincoln, later the 16th President of the United States, was, in modern-day terms:

“HOMELESS.”

But after Kentucky there was Indiana, then later Illinois, and still later, the fame of the world.

Happy 200th birthday President Lincoln.

Robert Frost

It snowed all day today. Snow always reminds me of this poem.

Groundhog Day

How Big is Your Shadow?

Well it’s Groundhog Day again, that day of the year when we all wait around for one of nature’s lowliest creatures to tell us what our weather is going to be. Most of the country recognizes Punxsutawney Phil as the chosen prognosticator, and for the record, he is reported to have seen his shadow today. But here in West Virginia, we rely on good old “French Creek Freddy” a renown resident of the French Creek Game Farm. Now Freddy’s “handlers” have been very assiduous about keeping their scientific records about his prognosticating ability. As such they have offered the scientific opinion that he is “usually” correct. As of this moment I have not heard about his report for the year.

However, based upon our situation here, today, I would say that no self-respecting groundhog in our area would even deign to leave the comfort of his hibernation just to offer us his opinion on the weather. No, I suspect this year, as most years, any groundhog in our area will stay buried within his sleep and wound not even consider coming out until the middle of March, or later. And when he does come out, it will be spring.



Concluding Scientific Postscript: Those of you who are avid followers of this site (all 2 or 3 of you) may be wondering how my previous column about the weather is holding. If you will remember, I had offered my “Wooly Worm Forecast” regarding the winter weather. If you will recall, his prediction said we would have a mild winter after a rough start. Now I ask you to remember, my prognosticator lived in eastern Greenbrier County WV, and while we in the Southwestern portion of West Virginia (and Kentucky) have just been through 2 terrible weeks of snow, ice, rain, cold temperatures etc., in Greenbrier County, for the same period all they got was some rain. So, as far as MY Wooly Worm is concerned, his prediction is holding. Now as for the other reports I had from Wooly Worms in the other parts of West Virginia, well, let’s just say their advocates may be following the lead of French Creek Freddy and maintaining that they are “usually” correct (scientifically speaking).

McKenzie Pass Oregon

Journey to a Land of Water Wind and Fire

Part D: Central Oregon

Crossing the Cascade Mountains

Finally, the time came when we had to begin our trip home. And so, early that morning we left Bend and headed west to Eugene.

We had two options open to us in terms of making the trip, Santiam Pass and McKenzie Pass. We chose the McKenzie Pass (State Route 242) option. The maps and books had warned us it was not suitable for truck traffic (a real plus to my way of thinking), and other vehicles over 38 feet in length. Since we were driving a rented “compact car” I guessed that we would fit. It was also mentioned that the road was not open in the winter, but after all this was the end of August. Plus the books had mentioned the road was a mountain road that was filled with curves, but hey, I’m from West Virginia, that sounds like home.

We left Bend on US Highway 20 and headed to Sisters. We paused in this burg very briefly (mainly looking to see if there were per chance any items of railroad interest). But the longer we stayed, the louder we heard the siren call “Tourist Trap!” And so we left.

Outside of Sisters we found our turn, with a minor amount of difficulty (remember we are old fashioned and use a paper direction finder a/k/a a map). Of course, we were hardly 2 miles down Rte 242 when . . . that’s right. . . a truck passed us. Now, it was not a big semi-tractor trailer. Nevertheless it was a big truck. We both said to each other almost simultaneously, “I thought they weren’t allowed!” Oh well, we moved on (and passed them about 1/4th of the way up the grade).

For the first part of the trip we felt like we were home in West Virginia already. And then we rounded a curve and saw something you never see in West Virginia. . . a field of lava rocks. We pulled over and got out and just looked around. There were rocks everywhere. And the road still was headed up, so we knew we were not at the pass.

And so we got in our car and drove on up through all the rocks until we did reach the pass. I already know the C.C.C. boys had built another “shelter” very similar to the one they had constructed out at the Cape Perpetua Scenic Area at McKenzie Pass. It was called the Dee Williams Shelter after a forester who had worked in the area at the time. I knew we would be able to stop there and get a better look.

A better look was definitely what we got upon reaching the turn-off at the head of the pass. We parked and A. went off to explore a trail that went out on the rocks. I, however, climbed up to the top level of the shelter to get a better perspective on all the Lava.

The Cascades have been, and will continue to be a very active, and interesting, part of the Pacific Ring of Fire. I had been to Mt. St. Helen’s and so the sight of lava all around was not new to me. Nevertheless, the sheer scope of it here at McKenzie Pass still almost overwhelmed me. Everywhere I looked, all I saw was black rock and sharp peaks.

Now standing here looking at the lava, and the string of volcanic peaks (for the record, the first one you saw was Belknap Volcanic Shield, followed by Mt. Washington and then followed by Mt. Jefferson) and surrounded by all this black lava, I knew for sure this one thing. Above all else, we had been traveling through a Land of Fire.

Cross Lanes West Virginia

The January Blahs

Well, it’s January. Thinking about Oregon last summer is fine. But this is January in West Virginia. And you know what that means.

Ah, and this year it seems particularly cruel. After all the “Obama-mania” of the transition and Inauguration, it is now beginning to set in. Change we have. The ideological purists of the right and their unthinking, unfeeling natures are out, for now. Replaced with, ever so slowly, the old, but re-emerging, coalition of the ideologues of the left, along with the sleaze of the center.

For example, when they put money for family planning for the poor in with an economic stimulus package, hoping no one will notice. Now, don’t get me wrong, yes there is a problem, and yes this is probably the best approach. But does that mean you put it in an economic stimulus package filled with “goodies” and pork-barrel for all so no one dares vote against it except he/she be tarred and feathered with the condemnation of those seeking to “re-build the economy”? Come on, if you have a program, and perhaps you do, be honest with yourself, oh, and yes, the American People who elected you, and put it in a bill where the merits of the particulars can be examined and not hidden among an evermounting mound of goodness for all.

And then, we have the case of the Treasury Secretary designee (as this is being posted he has now been sworn in) who can’t seem to remember to pay his payroll taxes. Oh, I know, “Mistakes were made. . . I’m sorry . . . I won’t do it again. . .” The theme of the 1990’s or as Yogi Berra might have said “Déjà vu’ all over again.” I suspect if one of us were guilty of this enfraction, well, there would be a different way to handle it starting with: “A lawyer in our Enforcement Division will talk with you about your options.” What’s next? An attempt to re-habilitate that outstanding preserver of state papers Sandy Berger?

Locally, things have been sad and grey around here. The local Avian Residents are mourning the sudden death, and disappearance, of John Q., “Red” Northern Cardinal, a resident of a nearby spruce tree. He was sitting on his branch happily singing away when the local Sharp Shinned Hawk swooped down and caught him. After a few hurried minutes of body preparation, with minimal distraction being provided by the local family of Blue Jays, the afore-mentioned Sharp Shinned Hawk flew away taking with him most of “Red’s” remains. Oh, foulness (fowlness?) of the deed!

An attempt was made to get a photographic record of the deed, but by the time the equipment had arrived, the assailant had swooped away (isn’t that always the case in these times). And so the C.S.I. crew was called in to record the “evidence” for possible future prosecution.

And now after 2 days of snow, the forecast calls for sleet changing to rain. And rain in such an amount, so now we have 3 weather advisories running, a “Cold Weather” Advisory, a “Winter Storm Warning” Advisory, and a “Flood Watch for both small stream and possible major water course flooding” Advisory.

Yes, it is the January blahs.

And then yesterday, as I went to the store to stock up between storms, what did I spy in the produce section? A small collection of those luscious delectable Red Berries of Hope:

Florida Strawberries.

Yes, they were finally here. And so I got a quart and we had some last night with cake and strawberry yogurt. And as I sat there tasting the sweet but tart goodness (and none of the straw that I get with California Strawberries that make it to our stores), I thought:

“Can Spring Training be Far Behind?”

Ah, another month of this blah-ness and then its out to see the crack of the bat, the sound of the fast ball smoking into the catchers glove. Another month of all the shades of grey associated with "this season" and then begins the speculation that most of us live for: What are the Pirates going to do this year (yea, our local team finally has an affiliation that makes sense)? And don't forget, what about the Reds? And of course, remember your roots, what about the Nationals?

Ah, sweet berries of kindness, sweet berries of spring.

Central Oregon

Visit to a Land of Water Wind and Fire

Part D: Central Oregon

The Cascades Lakes Scenic Highway

We finally managed to tear ourselves away from the Newberry National Volcanic Area. I had only scheduled us into this area for the shank end of our day coming in from Crater Lake, and the next day. And there was more we wanted to see. In particular, we wanted to drive the Cascades Lake Scenic Highway.

And so we left the Newberry Volcanic area and crossed over to the other side of US 97 and set off for the Cascades Lake highway. Now you have to understand that to date, we are still the "old fashioned" car travelers, meaning we do not have one of the GPS doo-dads that shout out directions, yell at you when you make a wrong turn, and otherwise let you know that it is far smarter than you. No, we still use a map (my how quaint!). And so, on our way over. . .we took a wrong turn.



But hey, in this country, you can take a wrong turn and even so have a good time and see spectacular scenery. And so it was, that when we should have turned left, . . . we turned right, and lo and behold several miles down the road found ourselves at the Falls River Fish Hatchery. But as I indicated, so what, we still had a good time.


Now, don't get me wrong, fish hatcheries are not really my "thing." Plus, I have been to several fish hatcheries here in West Virginia. So it wasn't the fish in the hatchery that made the stop for me. It was, rather, a very pretty, full flowing Fall River that was filled with some of the clearest, and coldest, water I had ever seen in a river. To find out how cold it was, I even stuck my hand in it. And believe me, you would never have believed it was the end of August! The water was that cold. And so J. and I walked up and down the river for a few minutes (A. stayed back at the car).


Once we got back to the car we got out our "trusty" map, figured out where we had gone wrong and proceeded to turn around and go back towards the Cascades Lake Scenic Highway. Finally, after passing where we had made our wrong turn and traveling on a bit further, we hit "paydirt." We were on the Cascades Lakes Scenic Highway.


I had figured on stopping at 3 points. As it was we ended up stopping 6 times. Unfortuantely, our first stop, Osprey Point, was a big disappointment. There was a trail there that led out to a lake. And there were supposed to be Osprey (hence the name) and other birds around. Well, we did see a platform that could have held an Osprey nest at one time, but if there had been a nest (and it looked doubtful that any bird had nested there for several breeding seasons) it was unoccupied at present. Well, I am sure that the end of August is not the right time of year to see Osprey nesting in these parts. However, contrary to our expectations, we saw few other birds. Oh, there were some gull-looking creatures, but we were far away from them. And so, after a few obligatory snap shots, we all moved on.


Our next stop was at the Little Lava Lake Campground. Little Lava Lake is reportedly the source of the Deschutes River. And since we had seen the Deschutes where it flows into the Columbia on our way in, and since Bend itself is located along the Deschutes and we had seen the river as it flowed through town, I thought it would add a nice touch to see where it began (over to the left in this photo).


As the day was moving on, we drove on down towards Mt. Bachelor and made a few quick stops for photos. One stop, in particular, was made in order to get a good shot of this famous ski slope. But really, Mt. Batchelor may be a great ski area, however as a scenic mountain, well, I've seen a lot better, both on this trip and in other places.


We finally stopped at the Dutchman's Flat area, just to the north of Mt. Batchelor. J. and I took off on a trail down to Dutchman's Flat. The trail doubles as a Cross Country ski trail during the winter months. Consequently, as we walked along the trail we saw many long, 20-30 foot tall poles on either side. These poles were, as J. noted, markers used by skiers in the winter. The tremendous amounts of snow in this area dictated that the poles be as high as they were. While he had never been here to cross country ski, J. assured me he had seen pictures of this trail and in those shots these "poles" appeared at times to be only about as tall, or a little taller, than the figures on the trail.



At any rate, eventually we came out on Dutchman's Flat which proved to be a bare spot, probably more
pumice desert such as we had seen at Crater Lake, with this wonderful-looking mountain as a backdrop. This mountain is called Brokentop. Obviously, it was of Volcanic origin, as most of the rest of the area was. And obviously, here too, the events surrounding its creation were a bit "unusual" to say the least. This seemed to be an emerging theme of this trip.

Newberry National Volcanic Monument Oregon

Journey to a Land of Water Wind and Fire

Part D: Newberry National Volcanic Monument

Glass Stones

This stop in the Paulina Peak section of the Newberry National Volcanic Monument was, for me, probably the second highlight of our trip (Simpson Beach at Shore Acres State Park being the first highlight). In doing my research about Central Oregon I had read about the Obsidian Flow, and as noted in a previous post, I had seen it from “up above” (Paulina Peak). But this is where I got out of the car, and with J. as my companion, set off to explore the area.

The flow towered above us as we approached, I estimate it was probably as tall as a 4 or 5 story building above the floor of the Newberry Caldera. As I paused to look at it (that is Paulina Peak, our previous stop, in the background), I marveled. Then when I read some of the interpretative signs along the trail, I was even more in awe. The flow is made up of 3 kinds of rocks, Obsidian, that is to say almost pure glass, Grey Pumice, and White Pumice. Of the 3, the Obsidian was the most unusual to say the least.

It shined in the sunlight, almost as if someone had come by with a “shining cloth” and brightened it up for a military-type inspection. I was never known in the military as a “fastidious dresser” per se (I always figured if it was good enough for U.S. Grant, it was good enough for me). Thus, shining shoes were never my forte (I was more noted for my muddy boots which I wore with pride because I got them visiting with the troops). Thus to say that these rocks would have passed my inspection is not really saying very much. But trust me, the rocks were very bright and shiny.

Obsidian was very valuable in the life of the Native American tribes in this area. They used to come to here to gather the obsidian once a year or more. After they had collected the rocks, they would form them with their crude instruments into sharp heads for their arrows. Sometimes these arrow heads were for their own arrows, at other times the arrowheads became a “medium of exchange” which they used in their trading activities. As we were walking through a particularly glassy area where the trail went over obsidian that was actually fines particles of glass (signs caution you to wear sturdy shoes on this trail, not sandals, flip-flops, or tennis shoes), J. remarked to me: “Just think, Native Americans used to come up here with nothing more than hide moccasins to protect their feet. I bet they suffered a lot for their collecting efforts.”

Obsidian is still valuable today for the same reason it was valuable to the Native American tribes. It provides one of the sharpest edges known today. It is used in several different types of applications involving cutting. For example, some medical tools used to make surgical incisions, have obsidian cutting edges. It is also a popular stone used in for various decorative purposes. Needless to say, if you search the net for Obsidian you will find that many of the entries are for businesses that are selling the stuff, mostly to jewelry makers. For this reason, several signs throughout the area cautioned visitors to look and enjoy, but do not take a “souvenir” it is government property.

The other 2 kinds of rock in the area were white and grey pumice.

The white pumice stood in sharp contrast to the rest of the rocks around it, and was easy to spot.


Pumice (both the white and the grey) is “frozen volcanic foam” (see: http://www.fs.fed.us/r6/centraloregon/recreation/trails/3958a-obsidianflow.shtml). This means it is filled with many small pockets of air. Accordingly, big boulders that would appear to be very heavy are, in fact, very light (as J. is showing here).

This was not the first time we had seen this. J. had been with me on the Johnson’s Ridge Observatory at Mt. St. Helen’s in Washington. We had both been impressed when one of the Ranger/Guides there picked up a very large stone and batted it around like a beach ball. He explained to us that many of the rocks in the Cascades region are exceedingly light because the Cascades are very “gassy” volcanoes. Thus, many of the rocks they leave behind, particularly pumice (which as noted above is nothing more that foam that has cooled), are very light. Since that experience, I have seen several other pictures taken in the Pacific Northwest, and according to one guide I read, it is a “favorite Kodak moment” for many visitors to that area. So consider the above another “Kodak Moment.” And if you every get out that way, maybe you too can impress your friends back home with your demonstrated strength.

Of course, there was some vegetation up on this flow. But it was all very precarious, and obviously it was and is tough for plants to survive in this environment.

As I said at the beginning of this post, all in all, I was impressed, and so were my companions. I would definitely recommend this area to anyone wanting to visit in Central Oregon.

Washington DC

Inauguration Day

Once again, and just as we are getting to another high point in our Oregon trip, I pause in my recounting of our Journey to a Land of Water Wind and Fire, to become a bit more “contemporary” and discuss a “current event:” Inauguration Day. Only, for me, Inauguration Day is not a National or International Event, rather it is for me, since I grew up in the town, a local event. And so, I wish to present a few “observations” or memories of what this day has meant to me through the years.

First off, I wish to have everyone reading this posting remember, that for me, as for countless other Americans, the current site of the Inauguration is not the site of my youth. No, for me, and countless Americans who lived between March 4, 1837 (Martin Van Buren’s Inaugural) and January 20, 1977 (Jimmy Carter’s Inaugural), the actual “changing of the power” (i.e. the swearing in ceremony) occurred on the East Side of the Capitol Building, in an area referred to by the Architect of the Capitol office as “The East Portico.” (Those of you who wish to have a recount go to: http://inaugural.senate.gov/history/chronology/index.cfm )


The change to the West Front probably occurred in recognition of the fact that Washington DC had become a changed city by 1981 when Ronald Reagan took office for the first time. Back in Van Buren’s time Washington was a small city. Only a few people lived there. And those who did, lived to the East of the Capitol, in the area known then, and now, as Capitol Hill. Today, we look out to the west and we see grass, monuments, museums, cars, and, of course today, a sea of people. But back in 1837, what one saw was swamp, mud, a slow-moving canal, and a bunch of small houses, many of some questionable character. Indeed, according to some historians, during the Civil War era (1861-65) a large part of the area between the Capitol and the White House was given over to “The Red Light District.” Also even before the War had started, railroad tracks ran across the mall connecting the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad with the roads leading south (via the “Long Bridge” which was eventually replaced by what we called the “14th Street Bridge when I was a kid).

So today the view out the West is much better. It certainly is more dignified, and not as "smelly" to boot (though with the Inauguration in the Winter, the smell associated with swamps is rarely a problem). Plus, with the whole slope of the land, it lends itself to allowing more people to participate. This increased visability may even have been in the plans of the Architect of the Capitol when an extension to the West Front was made in the 1890's.


And thus, today, President Barack Obama took the oath of office on the West Front (or “Portico” as the Architect of the Capitol calls it).





But enough of that, what about my memories of Inauguration growing up?

The first Inauguration I remember was the Truman-Barkley Inaugural in 1949. What I remember most was the fact that my Dad, my sister, and I went over to a friend’s house who lived in Southwest DC near where the Inaugural Parade lines up. We spent the morning walking past the various floats that were receiving their “last-minute” touch-ups. We got much the same view of the 1949Inauguration Parade that my grandson did recently of the 2008 Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade.

On my other site, A Collection of Railroad Stations, I recount my most vivid memory of the 1953 Inauguration. My only additional memory was that we had to go over and pick-up my grandparents and bring them over to our house for dinner and then get them back to their home. Now, that might seem an innocent task, to be sure, except my Grandparents lived in the 100 Block of C St. NE. The house no longer exists, it was taken over by the Capitol Architect’s Office and part of the Hart Senate Office Building occupies the site.

By 1953 my grandmother was in very poor health, indeed she would die only a few years later. In particular, by this time she was having trouble walking. Thus, Dad had to co-ordinate our movements carefully. I remember that we drove over as far as we could on C Street and found a place to park. Then Dad walked on down about ½ block to where there was a uniformed Marine. Dad explained he had to go get his parents and bring them out of the area to our car. The Marine let him go, and as Dad brought his parents out, the Marine, seeing the situation apologized and said if Dad could delay our return until 4 o’clock, then he would be able to drive right up to my grandparent’s house.

The 1957 Inaugural Parade is the only Inaugural Parade I ever saw in person. We had seats in one of the buildings lining the route. Our location was just where the parade leaves Constitution Avenue and turns onto Pennsylvania Avenue. At that time, there were still streetcars in DC. Thus Pennsylvania Avenue had streetcar tracks running down the middle of it. One of the state floats, I believe it was Louisiana, consisted of a big platform with a band seated on it playing, pulled by a 1957 version of a truck cab. As the platform turned onto Pennsylvania Avenue, it got stuck on the streetcar tracks. Several following floats had to “detour” around the stuck float, but they eventually got everything moving again. Streetcars were already on their way out of DC’s “life” (thanks to a certain Congressman from Michigan), but I suspect this incident hastened their demise, and the removal of their tracks from Pennsylvania Ave.

My most vivid memory of the 1961 Kennedy Inauguration was that the city of Washington was paralyzed the night before by a snowfall that exceeded 10 inches. I had been at a basketball game at Eastern High School that night, and the trip home, which normally took 30 minutes to an hour at the most, turned into a 4 hour marathon, as all the snow moving equipment was taken from the streets and applied to the parade route. They even brought in Army Flame throwers to dry the route off. The next day, Inauguration Day, we were "snowed in" at our house, and along with millions of other Americans watched on TV as the cars and the officials, and the bands, floats etc. all paraded by on a nice, clean, dry street with only a hint of snow anywere. In other words, the televised ceremony seen by millions in 1961 (and via re-runs by countless others since then) bore little resemblance to the reality for most people (but then, a lot of the Kennedy Administration was like that).

And that brings us down to 2009. No, I didn’t go there today, except on TV. But A. and I did walk by the Capitol in December. We were on a stop-over in DC waiting to catch our train back to WV. And we took a walk around the Capitol. And when we got to the west side what did we see?

And then we saw the actual construction as well.







Well, so much for memories of DC and Inauguration. Next time, I promise, the Pumice Field at Newberry National Volcanic Monument.