#gravel road maple valley

[excaliburlandclearing]

A gravel road is a form of unpaved road. It is basically used for rural area transportation. However, building a gravel road is a very difficult task- one that requires meticulous planning. This graphical presentation will help you to learn a few basic things about the construction of a long-lasting gravel road.

[darke15]

Rewriting Eden

Hello all! As some of you know, BS:A recently hit 500,000 words, which—to me—is a pretty damn big milestone.

As such, my original plan was to celebrate by recreating the New Eden House, Boone's Olympus Apartment, & Duke's New York Apartment in the only house design program I have...the Sims 4.

As you may have noticed, that has not happened.

Between scaling issues, design issues, and realizing that what I see in my head isn't actually a feasible house...I ran into some problems.

That being said, I still wanted to celebrate slightly as I continue to try [for the second year in a row] to build Eden. Because apparently I have issues putting what I see into 'real life' I have decided to rewrite part of a chapter of BS:A. More specifically, the part where Bucky and Ghost arrive in the New Eden house for the first time.

When I first wrote this chapter, I was actually on a road trip. I saw a cool house on the way and used another house I'd seen back at home and meshed them together. Which didn't actually work well and when I think back to the New Eden house, it's not what I see.

And, thus, the update...

┍━━━━━ ★ ━━━━━┑

The ten miles to the house flew by as you raced past green fields of spring wheat that rippled in the wind and silver hills of rolling sagebrush. The mountains that ringed the valley were silhouetted by the sun but their snow-capped peaks glimmered in the warm rays and a cool breeze rustled through the pine before swirling through the valley. 

Gravel crunched under the Firebird’s tires as the dirt road transitioned to the property’s driveway. 

You slowed slightly, watching the billowing dust behind you slither through brush as you wound through the winding drive before coming to a slow stop in front of a tall chain link fence that was securely kept closed with a length of chain and a padlock. Your gaze flicked over the abandoned place. 

The fence encased four different buildings. A trio of old, rusted grain bins sat against the front corner of the fence, functioning mostly as a roost for mourning doves than actual storage bins. A crooked storage shed leaned heavily against them through the fence, denting it as it crumpled. 

Just off the drive was a small wooden barn with fading and chipping red paint. Its doors, which once sat on castors and a rail above the doorway, were now sitting lopsided on the ground. 

Sitting beside the house was what was left of your Uncle’s garage. It was built of wood and cinder blocks, both had been discolored by the rust coming off the steel roofing panels that had wrinkled and folded in the violent summer winds and storms. 

You frowned to yourself, popping open the console and digging through it to find the padlock key as your eyes finally landed on the house. 

It was partially hidden behind birch and maple trees that had tangled together over the years and had new leaves budding on their branches. The farmhouse was two stories that stood on its original red brick foundations. White painted wood siding had chipped and cracked in the hot sun and freezing winters that blew through the valley with a vengeance. 

Only a few panels of the metal roofing had been blown off the roof and one of the chimneys had collapsed, its bricks were sprinkled over the yellow, unwatered grass of the yard. 

“Fuck,” you muttered to yourself, earning Bucky’s attention as you slipped from the car and you feet landed on familiar ground for the first time in years. He followed your gaze as you took a tentative step toward the locked gate. 

The light wind that hummed between the buildings also gently swayed the swing that sat on the front porch as you unlocked the padlock and tugged the chain free before kicking open the gate. 

A sigh worked its way through your throat as you rolled your eyes at yourself. 

You’d underestimated the toll the elements would take on your home. You’d nearly forgotten how unforgiving New Eden could be if it was left to its own devices. 

With a low grumble, you ducked back into the Firebird and carefully pulled it into the yard to get a better look at the house. 

Thick tendrils of nightshade had trailed up the sides of the house. Deep green leaves with purple flowers and bright red berries had overtaken the white siding as it wrapped around to the front of the house. It curled up the columns of the porch, anchoring itself to the metal roof above the porch and climbing onto the second story. 

“I didn’t think it would be this bad,” you mumbled, earning Barnes’ attention again. His calculating eyes turned on your face, raking over you before he winced as dried weeds scratched against the undercarriage of the Firebird. He glared down at the floor before glancing back up to the house as you came to a stop in front of it and shoved the car into park, “C’mon.”

Bucky followed you out of the car, his eyes narrowing as you both took in the damage. You took a slow step over the yellowed grass, the stubble crunching under your boots as you shoved your hands into your pockets to find the keys for the front door. 

“It’ll be a project,” you said after a moment, trying to force a smile to your lips but instead a grimace curled to your features as Bucky came to stand beside you, “That’s for damn sure.”

“It looks like shit.” He responded without hesitation. You failed to notice the smirk that was playing on his face as he folded his arms over his chest. 

“Fuck you,” you snapped with a glare and a pout before your jaw set into place. 

The smile on Bucky’s lips grew as a scoff puffed from his nose and he nudged you playfully. Your glare softened as he did and you relaxed back with a roll of your eyes. A small smile played on your face as he took a hesitant step toward the front door before spinning slowly to look over the property once more. 

The flowerbeds that were set in front of the porch had grown past their rock barriers, the native flowers beginning to take over the yard. Soft purple lupine swayed in the wind, sheltering orange poppies and white phlox that crept up the brick foundations.

Bucky leaned against the railing on the stairs, wincing as it cracked slightly and you carefully stepped up onto the porch to the front door. 

You paused in your stride as you lightly strode up the stairs before a yelp worked through your throat and one of the wooden boards snapped in half. You stumbled back for only a moment before Bucky’s arm wrapped around your waist and kept you from tumbling to the ground. 

He held you in the air for a second, looking over you as you clung to him and tried to pry your boot out of the board. 

“You good?” He hummed, keeping you steady as you finally forced your boot from the hole. 

“Yeah,” you muttered as he lowered you to the ground, “Watch your step.”

“No shit.” Bucky nodded as you brushed yourself off and he took a long step directly onto the porch. He paused before he turned back to you, glancing at the railing as it jiggled back and forth before holding out his hand and helping you up the stairs onto the porch. 

“Thanks,” you said, slowly making your way across the creaking wooden planks of the porch toward the front door. 

The yellow paint on the door had been shielded from the seasons. The stained glass that had been carefully designed and laid by your grandmother in the door was protected by cardboard and duct tape that had seen better days. The windows on either side of the door had the same treatment, protecting them from the weather but not providing cover for the flower boxes that were hanging onto the windowsills for dear life. 

You sighed to yourself, forcing your gaze and thoughts away from the growing list of things you had to do to get the house back in working order. 

Twirling the key through your fingers, you shoved it into the lock before pausing as it clicked. 

You hoped the inside wasn’t as bad as the outside, you couldn’t take the thought of adding anything else to the list. 

Taking another deep breath, you turned the handle—

Nothing. 

You frowned, pushing against the door lightly—

Nope. 

The door didn’t budge. 

A low, frustrated groan growled through your teeth as you head tipped forward until it hit the door with a resounding thud, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Let me try.” Bucky offered from behind you, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it onto the porch swing along with his cap and glove that had hidden his metal hand.

You waved him off, glaring at the door with a vengeance, “Be my guest.”

His flesh hand wrapped around the handle and he shoved his shoulder into the door—

Nothing. 

“Don’t you dare break it,” you warned, glancing between him and his metal hand as he wrapped it around the handle.

“I won’t.”

He pressed against the door again, putting his weight behind it and earning a light squeak from the hinges but, other than that—

Nothing.

Bucky leveled a glare at the door, rolling up his sleeves and widening his stance slightly. 

“Buck—,” you warned him again, your hand reaching up to his shoulder before he smacked you away. 

“It moved a little bit,” he drawled, licking his lips as he turned toward the door again. He held the door knob with his metal hand but held it at arm’s length as he wound up to shove himself against the door again, “It just needs a bit more—”

Another grimace worked to your face as Bucky threw himself at the door before colliding with it…

And the entire thing came off its hinges. 

A squeak came from your throat as you jumped away from the cloud of dust Bucky disappeared in and the entire house rattled as he landed with a thud. You waited to hear the shattering of glass or the telltale crack of a floorboard being snapped in half. 

But there was nothing. 

You poked your head inside the empty doorway as the dust subsided, your gaze flitting over the damage before a laugh spilled from your lips. 

Bucky had landed atop the door, he’d attempted to catch himself but had instead face-planted and was covered in a thick layer of dust that had been kicked up into the air. He grumbled to himself, rolling to his back with a coughed growl, “This isn’t funny.”

You answered him with another laugh before choking on the dust that was wafting from the house. Bucky rolled his eyes, glaring at you before you offered your hand and helped him to his feet. You brushed off his back as he leaned over to grab the door and gently prop it against the hall closet before you took a slow step inside. 

You didn’t realize you were holding your breath until you took a few more steps into the house, whether that was because of the dust still floating on the light draft and danced on the sunlight that had crept its way through cracks in the walls or if it was because of the sudden nerves that worked through your body…you weren’t sure. 

What you did know was that the house was in almost pristine condition. 

Even if it was covered in dust, the furniture and decorations were practically untouched. 

You were finally home.

A sigh of relief blew through you as you took another look around and felt Bucky stop beside you. 

“Well, Buck,” you said softly, nudging him lightly as he followed your gaze, “Welcome home.”

┕━━━━━ ★ ━━━━━┙

» CHAPTER 20  // RETURNING TO EDEN

✪ Bᴀᴛᴛʟᴇ Sᴄᴀʀʀᴇᴅ : Aғᴛᴇʀᴍᴀᴛʜ

♜♠ Tʜᴇ Sᴏʟᴅɪᴇʀ & Tʜᴇ Sᴘʏ

⧗ Tʜᴇ Rᴇᴅ Rᴏᴏᴍ

» Jᴏɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʀᴋᴇ sɪᴅᴇ Tᴀɢʟɪsᴛ

━━━━━ ★ ━━━━━

CAPTAIN'S LOG: ‣Partial Rewrite: September 11, 2022 // Last Updated: September 11, 2022 ‣Minor Update ‣Format Update ‣+1000 Words ‣Part of the 500,000 word celebration

━━━━━ ★ ━━━━━

@thexbookxnerdx // @autumn-em // @fadingbakeryfarmoperator // @rhymingtree // @itsmeatballworld // @kippykasey // @turtleedovee // @kamalymaly // @onewithnomightypowers // @y-napotat // @riahmcq // @thequeenofthefallen // @jesuswasnotawhiteman // @fnnshelbys // @knowyourworth-sellyoursoul // @banbananas // @beans-and-toast // @violetvictoriabarnes // @oikawasblueearbud // @itsarussian // @mrsbarnesinmyimagination // @oopsiedoopsie23 // @luhuhzy // @heyimjustlaura12 // @moonlightreader649 // @petalren // @sighmurderbot // @soldat-petala // @useless-creature-213 // @xiyouchan // @kaiblog50 // @aftermatharchives

[toprops1]

Enhance Vehicle Safety with TopROPS Wheel Chocks in Canada 

Canadian roads are tough. Blizzards, ice, and steep inclines challenge even the most reliable vehicles. That's where TopROPS wheel chocks come in, engineered to conquer the harshest Canadian conditions and keep your precious cargo safe.

Made for the Maple Leaf: Say goodbye to flimsy plastic chocks that crack in the cold. TopROPS are forged from robust, temperature-resistant materials, ensuring they stay grippy even when the mercury plummets.

Uncompromising Grip: Our unique, serrated design digs deep into any terrain, from asphalt to gravel to snow, preventing even the slightest tire budge. No more worries about rolling vehicles on icy hills or slippery driveways.

Peace of Mind, Canadian Style: Invest in TopROPS wheel chocks and relax knowing your trailer, RV, or car is secure, no matter the Canadian adventure you're tackling. Choose peace of mind, choose TopROPS.

Tel: +1-705-897-2458

Email: info@toprops.com

Address: 2837-2 Belisle Drive, Val Caron, ON P3N 1B3 Greater Sudbury, Ontario

#Wheel #chock #toprops #rops #steel #fops #sudbury #sudburyontario #ontario #valcaron #valley #topsteel #heavyduty #heavyequipment #heavymachinery #safety #safetymanagement #commercial

[dprs99]

Hidden Scenes on the Maple Valley Railroad

I enjoy looking behind the obvious scenes, which is why details are so important. More things are happening than we can see at first glance. A lot of life takes place in hiding. Maybe the good folks of Maple Valley aren’t hiding on purpose, but not everyone sees everything they’re doing. That’s good. No one should see everything they’re doing. The gravel access road at the loading docks of Maple…

[pinerwizards]

Cades cove waterfall

This is one of many popular day trips in the Smokies and is approximately 2.6 miles in length. A gravel road leads to a large parking area near the trailhead. Just northwest of the Cades Cove Visitor Center, the trailhead for the Abrams Falls Trail is off the side of Cades Cove Loop Road, between exits 10 and 11. Today the large trees growing along the Cades Cove Nature Trail are primarily oak, dogwood, sourwood, and pine trees. Almost one third of the forest surrounding Cades Cove’s was made up of Chestnut trees. On this trail, hikers see the remains of a chestnut grove from the 1800’s. Look for the trailhead about seven miles from the entrance to the Cades Cove loop road. “The Cades Cove Nature Trail is particularly beautiful in the spring when the dogwoods bloom and also in the fall when the sourwoods and maples turn a beautiful red” ­ NPS.gov.Ĭades Cove Nature Trail is a two-mile circle, so you end right back where you started. This arrangement lasts through September to allow for pedestrians, hikers and bicyclists. In May, the 11-mile Cades Cove Loop Road is closed to vehicles on Wednesdays. Located 27 miles from Gatlinburg and 9 miles from the Townsend, Cades Cove has short and gentle hikes to more challenging. Hikers might see white-tailed deer, black bear, coyote, ground hog, turkey, raccoon, or skunks. But there are also hiking trails.Īlong the trails are waterfalls, caverns, monuments, grist mill. Many choose to drive, walk or bike the 11-mile, one-way loop road that circles the cove. Cades Cove is a favorite destination for many people visiting the Smokies with its broad, lush, green valley surround by mountains, including history and wildlife.

[singledogs851]

Full hook up campsites carlton

Carlton RV Park | YOUR HOME ON THE ROAD.

Ellis Haven Campground | Family Camping and Picnic Grounds in.

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Summer Scene July/August 2022 by Park Rapids Enterprise - Issuu.

Quinebaug Cove Campground | Campground Reservations MA.

Carlton RV Park | YOUR HOME ON THE ROAD.

Our spacious full hookup sites include cable TV, and there simply isn't a camping location more convenient to all of the outstanding Plymouth area attractions. All of this and only 50 minutes from Boston and only 20 minutes to the gateway to Cape Cod! Ellis Haven features over 400 spacious campsites for all types of campers.

Ellis Haven Campground | Family Camping and Picnic Grounds in.

Entiat Valley Forest Service 5100 Road Entiat, WA 98822 (509) 784-4700 Nason Creek Campground 62 Cedar Brae Road Leavenworth, WA 98826 (661) 702-1420 Hwy 153 Carlton, WA 98814 (509) 997-0833 Get Directions Park Description Carlton RV Park offers 12 full hookup RV and tent campsites adjacent to Hwy 153 in Carlton Washington. For especially spectacular views, it's worth hiking the five-mile (round-trip) Cape Lookout Trail, which leads through old-growth forest all the way to the edge of the cape. The Cape Lookout Campground offers traditional tent sites and full hook-up sites for RVs, as well as yurts, deluxe cabins, picnic tables, flush toilets, and hot showers.

Campsites in Carlton, Bedfordshire 2022 from £8/nt - Pitchup.

A full hookup campsite is a site that will have access to all the amenities to hook to your motorhome or travel trailer. These amenities include a hookup for your water lines, a hookup for your electricity. This will include a 50 amp service, 30 amp service or both.... Hose: most RV hoses will hook up to campsite water systems, but as for.

Carlton RV Park, Carlton, WA - GPS, Campsites, Rates, Photos.

Find your perfect electric hookups campsitein Carlton Colville, Suffolk. Camping at Bastrop State Park. Click on the links below to learn about camping options at state parks, natural areas and historic sites across Texas. Jump to: Boat-to Campsites. Campsites With Electricity. Campsites With Water. Drive-up Campsites With No Hookups. Equestrian Campsites.

List of council camps (Boy Scouts of America) - Wikipedia.

Welcome to the Carlton RV Park just off HWY 153 in Carlton, Washington. The park has two entrances for easy in and out and the large aspens, maples, willows & evergreen trees provide a cool & peaceful setting. We offer a bathhouse, electric, sewage & water hookups. Seek out the area's wildlife and vegetation by venturing out on one of the park's well-groomed hiking trails, or, enjoy some relaxation by frequenting one of the park's many picnic areas. Featuring twelve campgrounds with over 800 campsites, Meadow Lake offers a new experience one visit to the next.

RV Parks in Carlton, Minnesota - Top 20 Campgrounds near.

Find Full Hookup Campgrounds Near You. Use the map below to locate a campground that has full electric, sewer, and water hookups. Enter your Address or City or Zip in the search box. If you don't find one near you, that doesn't mean there isn't one. It just means we haven't added it to the map yet. Welcome to the Grand Opening Season of The RV Park @ Clayton Geneva 💚 We are ready for RV’s!!! We are now offering for your consideration 6 loose gravel parking pad that can accommodate up to 35 ft RV. We have fresh water, 20, 30 & 50 amp electric access & sewage hookup at each site. These sites are back in parking. Planning a California Pacific Coast Highway road trip? Driving along the California Pacific Coast Highway is perhaps one of the greatest road trips in the world. Over the past five years, I was very lucky to have the opportunity to visit many of the towns and city's along the Golden Coast. But it was not until this past summer that we did a full road trip from San Francisco to Los Angeles.

POWDERMILL RUN CAMPGROUND - Campgrounds - Yelp.

Located 20 minutes northeast of Moose Jaw, Buffalo Pound Provincial Park offers a balanced blend of nature and recreational opportunities. Once used by First Nations to corral bison, the park maintains a captive herd in a paddock that's situated among the area's scenic rolling hills. Full Hookup Campsites. People per Site: 8; Number of Sites: 156; Sites #79-159 in Eagle Ford Camping Area and #160-230 in Lakeview Camping Area. Sites #111, 112, 124, and 140 are wheelchair accessible.

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We are just an email or phone call away, or visit us in person! Contact Us For more information and reservations: Best contact is via email. Email: Phone: 218-879-1819. Facebook: The Lounge on Big Lake Shores. Fan Creek Campground in Carlton, Oregon: 0 reviews, 0 photos, & 0 tips from fellow RVers.... Full Hookup Electric 50 AMP... Campgrounds near Carlton, OR. 1 Review. 5.0. Deane Park: This three-acre park offers places to relax and picnic and includes a dock on the lake. It’s found on Eagle Point Drive, north of Park Rapids, between Fish Hook River and Fish Hook Lake.

Prince Albert National Park - Wikipedia.

We have several camping options where you can enjoy your time. Electric Hook-ups. All of the campgrounds with RV sites, except Kelly Pines, have electric hook-ups at most or all of the RV campsites. Sewage Hook-ups and Dump Stations. Four campgrounds, Dewdrop, Tracy Ridge, Willow Bay, and Hearts Content, have dump stations at the campground. Located near Clayton, Georgia, Camp Rainey Mountain's High Adventure Outpost offers 10 campsites featuring adirondack shelters, 12 campsites featuring tent platforms, four centrally located hot showers, a family camping area, three townhouse cabins, an 1800s style pioneer village, two waterfront areas, a rifle and shotgun range, an archery.

Camping Around Table Rock Lake - Viisit Table Rock Lake.

Camping at Table Rock Lake is a great way to experience the natural beauty of the area. You will find private campgrounds that have facilities from primitive to full hook-ups for tents, trailers and RV's. In addition to our private campgrounds, the US Army Corps of Engineers operates public campgrounds around the lake. See Campgrounds Directory. Long Term Camping is November 1 – March 31 If you need assistance making a reservation , please call (502) 732-4665. Campground Hosts, Ronnie & Cindy Schaum, are at the site next to the check-in station. 33 Sites Available!-All 33 sites offer full hookup-Sites 1-14 and Site 21 are back-in.-All others are pull-through.-Site 30 is ADA only.

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Informed RVers have rated 24 campgrounds near Carlton, Minnesota. Access 465 trusted reviews, 157 photos & 117 tips from fellow RVers. Find the best campgrounds & rv parks near Carlton, Minnesota. 1,290 Followers, 398 Following, 26 Posts - See Instagram photos and videos from Abdou A. Traya (@abdoualittlebit).

RV Full Hook-up Campsites - Jellystone Park™ Camp-Resort in.

Compare camping sites in Carlton, Bedfordshire, read trusted reviews and book your campsite in Carlton, Bedfordshire with confidence on Pitchup. British English.... 8 Drainage hook-up points for tourers; 6 Motorhome service point; 13 Seasonal pitches; 4 Tourer storage facilities; 11 Water hook-up points for tourers; Within 15 miles. Map All Washington Campgrounds. Select the name for official website, phone, detailed directions, amenities, reviews, photos, map, navigation, streetview & more. Sign up for AllStays Pro or get the all time #1 Camp and RV app and take it with you. Advertise. Carlton RV Park 2252 Highway 153….

Summer Scene July/August 2022 by Park Rapids Enterprise - Issuu.

You'll need more than a day trip to enjoy everything that Insta Launch has to offer! Luckily, we have a variety of camp sites and rental units to fit your budget and accommodation preferences. Make your reservations today by calling 231-723-3901. You can view our 2020 rates by clicking here. We're looking forward to having you!. Rates: * Full Hook up RV Sites $42/night* Holiday weekends $45/night*Electric only Sites $30/night* All fee Amounts have sales tax already includedyou must have a reservation to enter the campground* Please Call to Reserve Sites 814-795-8763Call us about weekly or seasonal rates and More Information. Spend a lazy day on historical French Creek.

Quinebaug Cove Campground | Campground Reservations MA.

12 RV Sites, 12 Full Hookup, 10 30 Amps, 2 50 Amps Rates Daily Rates: $15.00 - $50.00 Facilities & Services Bathhouse / Restrooms, Dump Station, Hot Showers, WiFi Recreation Fishing, Hiking, Hunting, Swimming Policies All Ages. For a more convenient camping experience, we also have cabins for rent & a camp store with snacks. When you need to get away from it all, come to Quinebaug Cove.

Other links:

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[whatdoesshedotothem]

Wednesday 11 September 1839

3 ¼

11

F61 ½° at 4 ¼ am much rain in the night and sandy road .:. 6 horse off at 5 6/.. at Kyrkstad at 6 55/.. I hot and much bit in the night

K- to Bolstad 14 w.

Njölbolstad 13 w.

Helsingfors 68 w.

St. P- 480 w.

the woman had not been able to get us any Swedish money .:. agreed that she should take a 10 Rubel bill and be answerable for 6r. for the horses and take 4 towards her own bill and I paid her (at the rate 40sk. rigs per rubel) for the 2 remaining rubels

7 eight sk. banco notes i.e. 1.5.4+0.2.8 given over – very civil good tempered looking woman – much pleased we were so satisfied – remembered Handbook and his friend very well – said they had given her a small bit of money which she kept for their sake – I happening to have my 3 silver ½ dollar banco silver pieces in my pocket gave her one of them (that has a hole thro’ it) and desired her to keep it for I should ask to see it again sometime – Better rooms and house at Keala [Kealanoja]  last night but better eating here – Rain again and off in the rain at 5 6/.. – I slept most of the way – all forest till 6 55/.. when fine and sunny, and stopt to change horses /4 again) at some distance from the station house (did not even see it) near a small cottage where the red square headed mile post is set up – I got out for a few minutes very usefully the village must be near the station house on our left – scattered farms and cottages about – a pretty opening – very pretty country – wide winding wooded hill enclosed valley – a bit of forest again (young wood) in about hour+ - but good road – sandy land – but the road hard gravel like an English park road about 12ft. wide as usual, but sometimes less nice country all along to Bolstad at 8 ½ - stopt again in the road so[me] distance (left) 200 or 300 yards from the station house – walked to it – to see the direction post – could not find one – poor place – I think we could not well sleep there – the people 2 or 3 men and a woman

SH:7/ML/TR/13/0030

September Wednesday 11 at breakfast a little fish (apparently salted?) and boiled potatoes 2 rigs dollars a ton dearer here than at Stockholm – at last it was agreed that the woman should pay for our 4 horses from here 15 ½ w. to Everby [Ofverby] = 3.72 and the young man (her son?) gave me two 20kop. notes + one 75 kop. + two two-kop. copy pieces + two ½ sk. banco pieces for 4kop. = 5 Rubel – 5 kop. no wonder Handbook complained of their accommodation for the night – that is not the place to stop at – all Finnish commerce with Stockholm .:. all their money payments among themselves are in Swedish money but they are obliged to pay the taxe for posting in Russian money .:. are obliged to receive it for their horses – their wood (salmon) butter all goes to Stockholm but now they have the douane to pay = 2 rigs dollars per 60lbs. and being obliged to sell their butter at the Swedish price as they did before without duty they of course now lose this – and so equally the whole of the duties paid by them to Sweden is now a loss to them – the village of Bolstad not apparently very near the station – nice country – off from B- at 9 2/.. and at 9 ½ pretty lake and unpainted cottages and hamlets dotted here and there – green basin valley and lake and rounded wooded hills – in about 10 minutes more or ¼ hour come down upon the water wood bridge and cross it at one end where it looks river like – very pretty hereabouts rock and wood and water and villages and farms or cottages – a good deal of wind which curly the water – corn cocks as yesterday but now 9 ¾ it is rye – steep pitch up from the bridge and sandy road – at 10 ¼ moss-rocky forest – uphill and our horses hardish passed – all along sandy – pretty country – very pretty drive – at 10 50/.. at next stage to Finns 12 ½ w.

Helsingfors 39 and St. P- 451 w.

Öfverby (pronounced Everby) – small unpainted house – but probably might sleep tho’ not good - but the woman a decent woman – off at 11 – cocks of corn out here – rye I think – very pretty – rocky wooded hills and scattered unpainted little cottages and so red – the village of Ofverby (its neat little church at the foot of the hill just beyond the station) seems

September Wednesday 11 seems widely scattered in patches – winding pretty valley – round hilly and rather sandy – in ¼ hour (11 ¼) foresty again – several of the bare rocks today very white – all granite

the Fins a stupid looking people – here and there a red house but the red seems to bespeak a certain degree of [afflict] – the being better off than common – and here as in N. and S- the [?] (contamine) is growing as a weed among the rocks – we have not seen it as weed elsewhere because the land kept too clean – no weeds seen – now at 11 50/.. another wooded pretty lake right – and A- and I have just had a little of our Keala [Kealanoja] coq du bois that we brought away in paper – very good – many hamlets scattered about today – the country today seems more populous than yesterday? – at Finns at 12 13/..  

to Grahn 14 ½ w.

Helsingfors 26 ½ w.

St. P- 438 ½ w.

might sleep but not perhaps good place for it tho’ the civil woman came to say she could change a 5 Rubel note

nice open country about here wooded in the distance – 2 or 3 cottages near the station house – and large village or two of unpainted houses little distance (left) – rather pitchy last stage and at = off at 12 34/.. from Finns out with a steepitsh pitch from here and then pass thro’ a few houses and over 3 [?] bridges the unpainted cottages very picturesque dotted all round about interspersed  with patches of fir wood and wooded hill and well cultivated vale – now at 12 ¾ a little sun forest light – little pretty vale just below us right green rye and corn in cock (probably rye) not much oats grown in Finland? cottages or barns dotted up and down – fine foresty peopled drive this stage at 1 ¼ unpainted village in the widish basin vale little distance left of road and good yellow house and one or 2 red houses near – all looks well hereabouts – and slow at 1 20/.. descending and at the bottom of hill another pretty little lake near (left) – the openings and rounded dark pine wooded hills very picturesque – much mammelonné [mamelonné] rocky hill and bare and moss covered rock and boulder in our forest and sandy road now at 1 1/2 – here and everywhere much more Scotch fir than Spruce – this forest now at 1 ¾ the best as to size of trees (but none large) we have passed thro’ -

SH:7/ML/TR/13/0031

September Wednesday 11 in Finland – it opens out and we stop at Grahn at 1 57/.. nice little single house on a little [eminence], looking dry and comfortable – I should suppose one might sleep there as well as at Nyby or better? – the wide valley on plain studded with houses, farms, barns – the proportion of red increasing as if to denote our approach to the capital Helsingfors 12w. distance – large [?] beautiful lengthy finely wooded wooded island lake right sweeping along the wide valley – road hilly but tho’ rather sandy, good – forest covered rock alongside (left) – have written, or rubbed out pencilling, or read Handbook (article St. Petersburg) all this morning except added up the whole but 1 or 2 pp. of the Swedish account – since leaving Götheborg [Gothenburg] It seems (vide p. 174. 2nd vol.) that our pastor on board the steamer was M. Edouard de Moralt minster of the reformed church at St. P- and ‘the learned editor of an edition of Minuties’ Felix’ – probably Handbook knows him and sent him his book en cadeau? now at 2 20/.. road very sandy in the forest – at 2 40/.. gentleman’s house right – very pretty – a company of soldiers pass us – forest and break – very pretty – at 2 ¾ pass (close) broad shallow lake – at 2 55/.. Helsingfors church in sight – whitewashed like several other large neighbour buildings – church a fine object – fine looking town with its beautiful fjord – forest and break till now 2 55/.. that we emerge to bare Götheborg-like [Gothenburg] scantly wooded rocky hill – and gardens and houses marking our approach to the capital – at 3 at the water – beautiful view – cross good wood bridge – and at 3 ¼ at the Hotel du Nord – the fine dressed woman who came to us could do nothing – must wait for mademoiselle how should we stay – there was a room au 3me – I got tired of this work and drove off to the society’s house fronting the harbour – settled

September Wednesday 11 there very comfortably at 3 ½ - 2 nice rooms and lodging for the servants at 6 rubels a day – au 3me? but good – ordered dinner at 6 ½ and A- and I out at 4 10/.. – took John – to the botanic garden –

Stymphoricarpus [symphoricarpos] racemosus (snowberry bush) in flower

Vïburnum [Viburnum] Lentago a little like prunus padus but with broader leaf

V- dentatum (leaf something between the hazel and syringa leaf?)

Lonicera caprifolia [caprifolium] (as called by the gardener) the shrub I observed at Åbo with a little orange coloured berry, looking a [specie] of honeysuckle

Populus canescens (white abele)

P. cardifolia

Delphinium.  several specie large beautiful blue flower – a little in the style of aconite – have often seen it in a pot in the window in these northern parts

Lythrum, several specie pretty pink flower in spikes 6 or 8 inch long – narrow leaf – would be pretty (to give colour) at Shibden and hardy enough -  

Asclepias incarata [incarnata] (in flower – pinkish – pretty would do at Shibden)

Phlox several specie pretty little genus-pink and white – in flower like a smooth sweet William – 6 petal flower – the white very common in England gardens

Borago officinalis – pretty blue flower – 5 petals woolly stern and leaves – whatever will do well out of doors here, would do at Shibden – much wind today must be very cold, and exposed in winter – the garden garden divided into small compartments for the flowers, and sheltered by hedges the tall ones of lilac, and acacia, and Norway maple and the low ones of Spiraea calcifolia [salicifolia] – try this hedging plan at Shibden with along the middle a hedge of Spruce firs – or Sycamores? a very pretty hardy looking mespilus? or [?]? with clusters of hawthorn-like (but larger) red haws – Inquire for this –

In returning about 5 ¾ set John at liberty and A- and I sauntered into and about the handsome new not finished church – a Greek cross with 4 Corinthian porticos and pediments – then stood some while listening to the military band and came in at 6 ½ - dinner at 6 ¾ soup, mutton cutlets, sort of

SH:7/ML/TR/13/0032

September Wednesday 11

sweet omlet, and afterwards a sort of roll pancaky thing for dessert – no mead now – too late in the season – had plenty in the summer - .:. had each 2 cups of coffee – then siding had Grotza – then wrote the last page till now 10pm. very fine day – a good deal of wind all day but this afternoon particularly, and particularly here – a very handsome town – fine day F61 ½° now at 10 ½ pm

[chris-evans-indian-fanfic]

Across Seven Seas

Chapter 4

Description: This fanfiction series is set in the year 2022, after the horrid COVID-19 has finally come to an end. In this fanfiction, Chris Evans holidays with his family in India and meets Meera Shankar. The story explores their rollercoaster journey and raises a question, whether two people, from two contrasting backgrounds and cultures, can build their future together?

WE FINALLY FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENED WITH CHRIS IN THIS CHAPTER!

This series is Chris Evans x OFC with Chris Evans' family and friends having recurring appearances. Please find below a lot of Original Characters-

Meera Shankar - The female lead

Meera's Mother

Poppy - Meera's maternal grandmother

Rohan - Meera's elder brother who is 6 years older than her.

Ankur - Concierge of the Hotel Maple-Fawn in Mussoorie

Chapter 1 • Chapter 2 • Chapter 3

Chapter 5

FIND MORE CHAPTERS BY CLICKING ON MY BIO

P.S- India follows only one timezone.

P.P.S- All the photographs used in the chapters are of the real locations mentioned. I clicked these photographs on my vacation.

This is a work of fiction. The names of the hotels and companies have been changed to avoid copyright issues. Meera Shankar and her family is based on the author and her kin. No offense is intended.

I don’t consent to have any of my work published or featured on any third party app, website or translated. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission. In that case, please do share the link and let me know.

...

Chapter 4

7th September, 1:50 pm - Dehradun-Mussoorie Road

Seated comfortably in 2 large SUVs, the Evans family was on its way to Maple-Fawn, where they were to spend the rest of their vacation in peace. While almost everyone was fast asleep, Chris was wide-awake, awestruck with the view as their cars drove on winding slopes of the mountain. His body was tired, but his eyes refused to shut, taking in every detail of the natural beauty.

When they finally reached the hotel, the cold air was cruelly nipping at them. Since Delhi had been extremely hot, they had decided to ditch the winter wear until after they reached Mussoorie. Basking in the warmth of their rooms, Chris couldn't help but marvel at the view from his room. The entire valley was sprawled beneath him, the hill-side dotted with lush green leaves.

There were mountains as far as his eyes could see, dark green set against the bright blue sky. This would be a good place to sketch, he thought, sitting on the chair in his bedroom balcony.

The rest of the day was uneventful for the family, with all of them tuckered out.

Same day, 5:30pm - Hotel Maple-Fawn

Bundled up in 2 sweaters, a jacket, skull cap and finally, a shawl to cover it all up, Meera finished her walk across the property. She now knew where the gym, yoga centre, gaming zone, library, swimming pool, dance club, spa and garden were located. She knew every exit, every corridor and passage. She was satisfied with the amount of fire extinguishers present and their ease of access. The hotel had various maps screwed into the walls, with clearly demarcated ways to the nearest exit and fire extinguishers.

Heading back to her room, she felt her phone vibrate. "Hey Ma, what happened?" she answered the call. "Where are you?" "Just taking a walk, coming back now." "YOU LEFT THE HOTEL?! ALONE?!" shouted her mother. "Ma, calm down, I did not leave the hotel. I was just taking a walk inside the hotel premises. I wanted to see their gym, swimming pool, gaming zone, spa..." "Oh okay okay, but you should have told me you are going na." "Have you checked your phone? I sent you a Whatsapp message when I left. You even received it," replied Meera. "Yes but that was a long time ago!" "It was only 20 minutes ago Ma!" said an indignant Meera, "It is not my fault that you panicked!" "I am your mother. I have every right to panic when I can't find my children." Reaching the lift to her portion of the hotel, Meera disconnected the call.

Conducting a thorough check of any premises had become somewhat of a habit for Meera. There had been too many instances where innocent people had been the victims of fires just because the building had not been upto code, or even if they were, then the people did not know where the exits were or how to use a fire extinguisher. She was not going to take any chances when it came to protecting her family.

Entering the shared bedroom, Meera's mother ran to hug her, "Where were you? Do you know how worried I was?" "Mom I had been gone for just 20 minutes. Can you please not be so clingy?" retorted Meera, dodging her mother. "I am a mother. Mothers are not clingy." "First of all," replied Meera, "A mother is a relation and being clingy is a personality trait, so yes, you can be both. And secondly, I told you where I am na, what is the need to be so hyper all the time?" "I worry Bala," her Mother said with concern, "Times are bad." "If the times are bad then..." "How is the rest of the hotel?" interrupted Poppy, ending their conversation. "It is great. They even have a small library here. Some of your favourite authors are available as well. There's Danielle Steel, Maeve Binchy and Babara Taylor Bradford." "Oo that's nice. Any books which we haven't read?" "I don't know which books you haven't read, but I will take you there whenever you want. I got this interesting book which talks about the history of Mussoorie and..." "Why is my phone hanging?" Poppy interrupted again, "Meera check and see what is wrong with my phone." Meera quietly sighed. Her grandmother had an annoying habit of interrupting people when they were talking about something she wasn't interested in. Clearing some of the junk from the phone, she handed it back to Poppy. "Aah now it's working properly," smiled Poppy.

Next day, 10am - Hotel Maple-Fawn

The restaurant where all the meals were served housed floor-to-ceiling windows which offered a beautiful view of the trees and overlooked the valley below.

The Evans family was already at the table next to the window, savoring the delicious breakfast. Scott suddenly stopped eating his omelette, his eyes squinting at something across the room. "Did you guys see that woman? She took a bowl of cornflakes and is eating them without milk! Why would she do that?" Carly and Lisa turned around while Shanna tried to crane her neck to look at the person. "Who are you talking about?" asked Shanna. "That woman in the skull cap! She's sitting at the table of 4, with 3 other people! The one who's wearing the bulky sweater and shawl!" "That's not a woman, that's a man," stated Carly, "I saw him walking around our wing yesterday. He was looking at all the fire extinguishers and the maps for some reason. I thought he worked with the hotel. What a weirdo." "I think that's a woman," contributed Lisa, "What do you think Chris?" "Not interested," came the reply.

Over the course of the next few days, members of the Evans family kept spotting the 'mystery person', either at the gaming zone, the library, restaurant or around the premises. Shanna swore she once heard the person and their voice sounded "Deep and gruff, just like a man's!" "Bullshit!" retorted Scott, "I saw her crouching on the gravel pathway yesterday. It's a she!" "Wait why was she crouching on the pathway for no reason? That is so weird!" commented Stella, Chris' 13-year-old niece. "Oh she was picking up some wrapper or plastic, I don't know I wasn't very close." "Then how are you sure it was she and not he?" argued Shanna.

The doorbell of their suite rang, putting a pause to the argument. The concierge, Ankur, was at the door. He informed them that the hotel was organising a horse-riding workshop for the next day and wanted to check if anyone would be interested to participate. "Sounds like fun," Scott wondered, "No! I cannot hear you complain about chafed thighs for the rest of the vacation," said Chris. After they politely refused, Ankur reminded Chris about the mediation program. "You have only visited one session sir, when we had you signed up for the entire duration of your stay. Did you not like the session?" "Oh no it was great. I... I just wanted to spend sometime with my family, you know?" "I understand sir. You can rejoin the program anytime you want. I will take your leave. Do let us know if there's anything we can do to serve you," and with that, Ankur left.

"I am sorry," apologized Carly, "I thought you might like the mediation program. Rishikesh is just a few hours away you know. We can go and spend the rest of our vacation there." "Please don't say that," replied Chris, "They have a nice teacher here. It's just that I have already heard and read everything that the guru was preaching. Plus it's so beautiful here. I want us to stay," Chris tried his best to sound convincing.

It wasn't that this vacation was a bad idea, the change of location and the absence of the hounding media had relieved some of the stress Chris had been facing. It was just that Chris felt like he didn't belong anywhere. Uptil now, for the better part of the vacation, he had stayed holed up in his room, either watching PicFlix or sitting in his balcony, with a blank notepad and pencil. There were days when his mind was flooded with thoughts and then there were times when he felt... numb. He sat in the cold, without a sweater or a jacket, just to feel the nip of the wind, which never really came. He felt like he was either running at top speed, or he had come to a full stop. When therapy had not worked for him, he had tried to speak to his family, but they were always supportive and just this once, just this once, he did not want them to be. He had fucked up, and he wanted a way to fix it. But how could he when he himself needed fixing?

Settling back in his room, with a glass of whisky, neat, he closed his eyes, to rewind everything that had happened, once again.

Post the COVID-19 nightmare, when the country had finally reopened and life had started to return to normalcy, Chris and his partners, Mark Kassen and Joe Kiani, had finally launched their civic engagement project A Starting Point (ASP). The launch had been successful, with Chris' devoted fans flocking to the website in the first few days. The concept had been quite simple, to get senators on one-minute videos to answer questions on topics related to education, trade policies, immigration and more. They had managed to get inputs and secure participation from politicians belonging to both the parties. It all worked fine for the first 2 months.

The third month came with its own set of issues. Many politicians started promoting their own agendas, instead of just explaining the existing policies. This led to a shortage of interview clips as Chris and his team refused to air such videos.

As time went on, politicians belonging to the same parties started giving different, contradicting information on the same topics. While some senators painted a pretty picture about a particular policy, others spoke against it. What added fuel to the fire was that the some of the news media had started reporting that Chris was causing friction in both the political parties through ASP, especially the Republican party. It also didn't help that Chris had been outspoken against the previous Republican President. Moreover, politicians who answered questions by ASP started changing their responses when they were asked the same questions by the media. They blamed Chris for somehow manipulating and changing their responses.

This had already started taking a toll on Chris' career. Award functions were reluctant to invite him to the ceremony, let alone nominate him for his roles. His box office collections had started seeing a decline. Even the media was increasingly writing negative stories about him, wondering whether America's blue-eyed hero is finally becoming the villian.

As months passed, an increased number of citizens were disgruntled by the lack of new videos and hence, lack of information on the site.

The final nail in ASP's coffin was Senator Yellowstone. One of the youngest senators to ever be elected, Senator Yellowstone was charming, intelligent and sharp. He understood the need for reforms in the governement and knew that change was inevitable in order for the country to progress. It was uncanny how Chris and Yellowstone agreed on multiple political issues. Both of them saw eye-to-eye when it came to the electoral college, voting and other issues. As a result, Yellowstone became one of the top contributors of ASP, always open to share a small video on the topics that mattered the most.

Chris would never forget the day when Yellowstone's rape scandal broke the news. He had been accused of rape and molestation by 43 teenagers. Apparently, as a part of his community outreach, Yellowstone ran a program wherein he would tutor and guide young females who would be interested to take part in politics in the near future. Chris had been impressed by the initiative and had supported Yellowstone. But, he did not know that Yellowstone was using the initiative as a front for his horrific crimes. That scandal destroyed Chris, professionally and personally. ASP finally shut down and all the studios cancelled their contracts with him. He was fired from his ongoing projects. While the court had acquitted Chris of all charges, the media still put him on trial everytime. He couldn't come to face the truth. He blamed himself for what happened to those poor girls. He could have been, should have been more careful in trusting people. But, Yellowstone's charm was such that he could charm the snake into shedding it's skin, and then sell it back to him.

Chris had publically apologized to all the victims and had discreetly offered to pay for their education. While some graciously accepted the offer, understanding that Chris had nothing to do with the scandal, a few others saw it as Chris' attempt to hide his 'alleged' involvement. They approached the media with this story and as expected, the next day his kind gesture was butchered, tainted as a 'cover-up fiasco' by the news outlets.

It had been a year since then. There were no new projects on Chris' desk. Most of the film industry was practising their distance, with only a few loyal friends sticking by his side. His social media accounts lay dormant. There were still a portion of his fans who stood by him, defending him on the internet, but there was a large number of people who even today thought he had to do something with the scandal and was to blame.

Everyday, his remorse ate him alive. Everyday, he felt himself slipping into the abyss and everyday, his motivation to try and reach out for help lessened. Everyday.

Chris' phone pulled him out of his reverie. He saw Scott's name on the screen, asking him to join the family for dinner. Chris looked at the untouched glass of whisky, deciding he was not hungry.

Not tonight.

[mellifera38]

Mel’s Big Fantasy Place-Name Reference

So I’ve been doing lots of D&D world-building lately and I’ve kind of been putting together lists of words to help inspire new fantasy place names. I figured I’d share. These are helpful for naming towns, regions, landforms, roads, shops, and they’re also probably useful for coming up with surnames. This is LONG. There’s plenty more under the cut including a huge list of “fantasy sounding” word-parts. Enjoy!

Towns & Kingdoms

town, borough, city, hamlet, parish, township, village, villa, domain

kingdom, empire, nation, country, county, city-state, state, province, dominion

Town Name End Words (English flavored)

-ton, -ston, -caster, -dale, -den, -field, -gate, -glen, -ham, -holm, -hurst, -bar, -boro, -by, -cross, -kirk, -meade, -moore, -ville, -wich, -bee, -burg, -cester, -don, -lea, -mer, -rose, -wall, -worth, -berg, -burgh, -chase, -ly, -lin, -mor, -mere, -pool. -port, -stead, -stow, -strath, -side, -way, -berry, -bury, -chester, -haven, -mar, -mont, -ton, -wick, -meet, -heim, -hold, -hall, -point

Buildings & Places

castle, fort, palace, fortress, garrison, lodge, estate, hold, stronghold, tower, watchtower, palace, spire, citadel, bastion, court, manor, house

altar, chapel, abbey, shrine, temple, monastery, cathedral, sanctum, crypt, catacomb, tomb

orchard, arbor, vineyard, farm, farmstead, shire, garden, ranch

plaza, district, quarter, market, courtyard, inn, stables, tavern, blacksmith, forge, mine, mill, quarry, gallows, apothecary, college, bakery, clothier, library, guild house, bath house, pleasure house, brothel, jail, prison, dungeon, cellar, basement, attic, sewer, cistern

lookout, post, tradepost, camp, outpost, hovel, hideaway, lair, nook, watch, roost, respite, retreat, hostel, holdout, redoubt, perch, refuge, haven, alcove, haunt, knell, enclave, station, caravan, exchange, conclave

port, bridge, ferry, harbor, landing, jetty, wharf, berth, footbridge, dam, beacon, lighthouse, marina, dockyard, shipyard

road, street, way, row, lane, trail, corner, crossing, gate, junction, waygate, end, wall, crossroads,  barrier, bulwark, blockade, pavilion, avenue, promenade, alley, fork, route

Time & Direction

North, South, East, West, up, down, side, rise, fall, over, under

Winter, Spring, Summer, Autumn, solstice, equanox, vernal, ever, never

dusk, dawn, dawnrise, morning, night, nightfall, evening, sundown, sunbreak, sunset

lunar, solar, sun, moon, star, eclipse

Geographical Terms

Cave, cavern, cenote, precipice, crevasse, crater, maar, chasm, ravine, trench, rift, pit

Cliff, bluff, crag, scarp, outcrop, stack, tor, falls, run, eyrie, aerie

Hill, mountain, volcano, knoll, hillock, downs, barrow, plateau, mesa, butte, pike, peak, mount, summit, horn, knob, pass, ridge, terrace, gap, point, rise, rim, range, view, vista, canyon, hogback, ledge, stair, descent

Valley, gulch, gully, vale, dale, dell, glen, hollow, grotto, gorge, bottoms, basin, knoll, combe

Meadow, grassland, field, pasture, steppe, veld, sward, lea, mead, fell, moor, moorland, heath, croft, paddock, boondock, prairie, acre, strath, heights, mount, belt

Woodlands, woods, forest, bush, bower, arbor, grove, weald, timberland, thicket, bosk, copse, coppice, underbrush, hinterland, park, jungle, rainforest, wilds, frontier, outskirts

Desert, dunes, playa, arroyo, chaparral, karst, salt flats, salt pan, oasis, spring, seep, tar pit, hot springs, fissure, steam vent, geyser, waste, wasteland, badland, brushland, dustbowl, scrubland

Ocean, sea, lake, pond, spring, tarn, mere, sluice, pool, coast, gulf, bay

Lagoon, cay, key, reef, atoll, shoal, tideland, tide flat, swale, cove, sandspit, strand, beach

Snowdrift, snowbank, permafrost, floe, hoar, rime, tundra, fjord, glacier, iceberg

River, stream, creek, brook, tributary, watersmeet, headwater, ford, levee, delta, estuary, firth, strait, narrows, channel, eddy, inlet, rapids, mouth, falls

Wetland, marsh, bog, fen, moor, bayou, glade, swamp, banks, span, wash, march, shallows, mire, morass, quag, quagmire, everglade, slough, lowland, sump, reach

Island, isle, peninsula, isthmus, bight, headland, promontory, cape, pointe, cape

More under the cut including: Color words, Animal/Monster related words, Rocks/Metals/Gems list, Foliage, People groups/types, Weather/Environment/ Elemental words, Man-made Items, Body Parts, Mechanical sounding words, a huge list of both pleasant and unpleasant Atmospheric Descriptors, and a huge list of Fantasy Word-parts.

Color Descriptions

Warm: red, scarlet, crimson, rusty, cerise, carmine, cinnabar, orange, vermillion, ochre, peach, salmon, saffron, yellow, gold, lemon, amber, pink, magenta, maroon, brown, sepia, burgundy, beige, tan, fuchsia, taupe

Cool: green, beryl, jade, evergreen, chartreuse, olive, viridian, celadon, blue, azure, navy, cerulean, turquoise, teal, cyan, cobalt, periwinkle, beryl, purple, violet, indigo, mauve, plum

Neutral: gray, silver, ashy, charcoal, slate, white, pearly, alabaster, ivory, black, ebony, jet

dark, dusky, pale, bleached, blotchy, bold, dappled, lustrous, faded, drab, milky, mottled, opaque, pastel, stained, subtle, ruddy, waxen, tinted, tinged, painted

Animal / Monster-Related Words

Bear, eagle, wolf, serpent, hawk, horse, goat, sheep, bull, raven, crow, dog, stag, rat, boar, lion, hare, owl, crane, goose, swan, otter, frog, toad, moth, bee, wasp, beetle, spider, slug, snail, leech, dragonfly, fish, trout, salmon, bass, crab, shell, dolphin, whale, eel, cod, haddock

Dragon, goblin, giant, wyvern, ghast, siren, lich, hag, ogre, wyrm, kraken

Talon, scale, tusk, hoof, mane, horn, fur, feather, fang, wing, whisker, bristle, paw, tail, beak, claw, web, quill, paw, maw, pelt, haunch, gill, fin,

Hive, honey, nest, burrow, den, hole, wallow

Rocks / Metals / Minerals

Gold, silver, brass, bronze, copper, platinum, iron, steel, tin, mithril, electrum, adamantite, quicksilver, fool’s gold, titanium

Diamond, ruby, emerald, sapphire, topaz, opal, pearl, jade, jasper, onyx, citrine, aquamarine, turquoise, lapiz lazuli, amethyst, quartz, crystal, amber, jewel

Granite, shale, marble, limestone, sandstone, slate, diorite, basalt, rhyolite, obsidian, glass

Earth, stone, clay, sand, silt, salt, mote, lode, vein, ore, ingot, coal, boulder, bedrock, crust, rubble, pebble, gravel, cobble, dust, clod, peat, muck mud, slip, loam, dirt, grit, scree, shard, flint, stalactite/mite

Trees / Plants / Flowers

Tree, ash, aspen, pine, birch, alder, willow, dogwood, oak, maple, walnut,  chestnut, cedar, mahogany, palm, beech, hickory, hemlock, cottonwood, hawthorn, sycamore, poplar, cypress, mangrove, elm, fir, spruce, yew

Branch, bough, bramble, gnarl, burr, tangle, thistle, briar, thorn, moss, bark, shrub, undergrowth, overgrowth, root, vine, bracken, reed, driftwood, coral, fern, berry, bamboo, nectar, petal, leaf, seed, clover, grass, grain, trunk, twig, canopy, cactus, weed, mushroom, fungus

Apple, olive, apricot, elderberry, coconut, sugar, rice, wheat, cotton, flax, barley, hops, onion, carrot, turnip, cabbage, squash, pumpkin, pepper

Flower, rose, lavender, lilac, jasmine, jonquil, marigold, carnelian, carnation, goldenrod, sage, wisteria, dahlia, nightshade, lily, daisy, daffodil, columbine, amaranth, crocus, buttercup, foxglove, iris, holly, hydrangea, orchid, snowdrop, hyacinth, tulip, yarrow, magnolia, honeysuckle, belladonna, lily pad, magnolia

People

Settler, Pilgrim, Pioneer, Merchant, Prospector, Maker, Surveyor, Mason, Overseer, Apprentice, Widow, Sailor, Miner, Blacksmith, Butcher, Baker, Brewer, Barkeep, Ferryman, Hangman, Gambler, Fisherman, Adventurer, Hero, Seeker, Hiker, Traveler, Crone

Mage, Magician, Summoner, Sorcerer, Wizard, Conjurer, Necromancer, 

King, Queen, Lord, Count, Baron, Guard, Soldier, Knight, Vindicator, Merchant, Crusader, Imperator, Syndicate, Vanguard, Champion, Warden, Victor, Legionnaire, Master, Archer, Footman, Gladiator, Barbarian, Captain, Commodore, 

Beggar, Hunter, Ranger, Deadman, Smuggler, Robber, Swindler, Rebel, Bootlegger, Outlaw, Pirate, Brigand, Ruffian, Highwayman, Cutpurse, Thief, Assassin

God, Goddess, Exarch, Angel, Devil, Demon, Cultist, Prophet, Hermit, Seer

council, clergy, guild, militia, choir 

Climate, Environment, & The Elements

Cold, cool, brisk, frosty, chilly, icy, freezing, frozen, frigid, glacial, bitter, biting, bleak, arctic, polar, boreal, wintry, snowy, snow, blizzarding, blizzard, sleeting, sleet, chill, frost, ice, icebound, ice cap, floe, snowblind, frostbite, coldsnap, avalanche, snowflake

Hot, sunny, humid, sweltering, steaming, boiling, sizzling, blistering, scalding, smoking, caldescent, dry, parched, arid, fallow, thirsty, melting, molten, fiery, blazing, burning, charring, glowing, searing, scorching, blasted, sun, fire, heat, flame, wildfire, bonfire, inferno, coal, ash, cinder, ember, flare, pyre, tinder, kindling, aflame, alight, ablaze, lava, magma, slag,

Wet, damp, dank, soggy, sodden, soaked, drenched, dripping, sopping, briny, murky, rain, storm, hail, drizzle, sprinkle, downpour, deluge, squall, water, cloud, fog, mist, dew, puddle, pool, current, whirlpool, deep, depths, tide, waves, whitewater, waterfall, tidal wave, flow, flood, leak, drain

Wind, breeze, gust, billow, gail, draft, waft, zephyr, still, airy, clear, smokey, tempest, tempestuous, windswept, aerial, lofty, torrid, turbulent, nebulous, tradewind, thunder, lightning, spark, cyclone, tornado, whirlwind, hurricane, typhoon

Man-made Item Words

Furnace, forge, anvil, vault, strap, strip, whetstone, brick, sword, blade, axe, dagger, shield, buckler, morningstar, bow, quiver, arrow, polearm, flail, staff, stave, sheath, hilt, hammer, knife, helm, mantle, banner, pauldron, chainmail, mace, dart, cutlass, canon, needle, cowl, belt,  buckle, bandana, goggles, hood, boot, heel, spindle, spool, thread, sweater, skirt, bonnet, apron, leather, hide, plate, tunic, vest, satin, silk, wool, velvet, lace, corset, stocking, binding

Plow, scythe, (wheel) barrow, saddle, harrow, brand, collar, whip, leash, lead, bridle, stirrup, wheel, straw, stall, barn, hay, bale, pitchfork, well, log, saw, lumber, sod, thatch, mortar, brick, cement, concrete, pitch, pillar, window, fountain, door, cage, spoke, pole, table, bench, plank, board

Candle, torch, cradle, broom, lamp, lantern, clock, bell, lock, hook, trunk, looking glass, spyglass, bottle, vase, locket, locker, key, handle, rope, knot, sack, pocket, pouch, manacle, chain, stake, coffin, fan. cauldron, kettle, pot, bowl, pestle, oven, ladle, spoon, font, wand, potion, elixir, draught, portal, book, tome, scroll, word, manuscript, letter, message, grimoire, map, ink, quill, pen, cards, dice

Coin, coronet, crown, circlet, scepter, treasure, riches, scales, pie, tart, loaf, biscuit, custard, caramel, pudding, porridge, stew, bread, tea, gravy, gristle, spice, lute, lyre, harp, drum, rouge, powder, perfume, brush

bilge, stern, pier, sail, anchor, mast, dock, deck, flag, ship, boat, canoe, barge, wagon, sled, carriage, buggy, cart

Wine, brandy, whiskey, ale, moonshine, gin, cider, rum, grog, beer, brew, goblet, flagon, flask, cask, tankard, stein, mug, barrel, stock, wort, malt

Body Parts

Head, throat, finger, foot, hand, neck, shoulder, rib, jaw, eye, lips, bosom

Skull, spine, bone, tooth, heart, blood, tears, gut, beard

Mechanical-Sounding Words

cog, fuse, sprocket, wrench, screw, nail, bolt, lever, pulley, spanner, gear, spring, shaft, switch, button, cast, pipe, plug, dial, meter, nozzle, cord, brake, gauge, coil, oil, signal, wire, fluke, staple, clamp, bolt, nut, bulb, patch, pump, cable, socket

torque, force, sonic, spark, fizzle, thermal, beam, laser, steam, buzz, mega, mecha, electro, telsa, power, flicker, charge, current, flow, tinker

Atmospheric Words

Unpleasant, Dangerous, Threatening

(nouns) death, fury, battle, scar, shadow, razor, nightmare, wrath, bone, splinter, peril, war, riptide, strife, reckoning, sorrow, terror, deadwood, nether, venom, grime, rage, void, conquest, pain, folly, revenge, horrid, mirk, shear, fathom, frenzy, corpselight/marshlight, reaper, gloom, doom, torment, torture, spite, grizzled, sludge, refuse, spore, carrion, fear, pyre, funeral, shade, beast, witch, grip, legion, downfall, ruin, plague, woe, bane, horde, acid, fell, grief, corpse, mildew, mold, miter, dirge

(adjectives) dead, jagged, decrepit, fallen, darkened, blackened, dire, grim, feral, wild, broken, desolate, mad, lost, under, stagnant, blistered, derelict, forlorn, unbound, sunken, fallow, shriveled, wayward, bleak, low, weathered, fungal, last, brittle, sleepy, -strewn, dusky, deserted, empty, barren, vacant, forsaken, bare, bereft, stranded, solitary, abandoned, discarded, forgotten, deep, abysmal, bottomless, buried, fathomless,unfathomable, diseased, plagued, virulent, noxious, venomous, toxic, fetid, revolting, putrid, rancid, foul, squalid, sullied, vile, blighted, vicious, ferocious, dangerous, savage, cavernous, vast, yawning, chasmal, echoing, dim, dingy, gloomy, inky, lurid, shaded, shadowy, somber, sunless, tenebrous, unlit, veiled, hellish, accursed, sulfurous, damned, infernal, condemned, doomed, wicked, sinister, dread, unending, spectral, ghostly, haunted, eldritch, unknown, weary, silent, hungry, cloven, acidic

(verb/adverbs): wither (withering / withered), skulk (skulking), whisper, skitter, chitter, sting, slither, writhe, gape, screech, scream, howl, lurk, roil, twist, shift, swarm, spawn, fester, bleed, howl, shudder, shrivel, devour, swirl, maul, trip, smother, weep, shatter, ruin, curse, ravage, hush, rot, drown, sunder, blister, warp, fracture, die, shroud, fall, surge, shiver, roar, thunder, smolder, break, silt, slide, lash, mourn, crush, wail, decay, crumble, erode, decline, reek, lament, taint, corrupt, defile, poison, infect, shun, sigh, sever, crawl, starve, grind, cut, wound, bruise, maim, stab, bludgeon, rust, mutilate, tremble, stumble, fumble, clank, clang

Pleasant, Safe, Neutral

(nouns) spirit, luck, soul, oracle, song, sky, smile, rune, obelisk, cloud, timber, valor, triumph, rest, dream, thrall, might, valiance, glory, mirror, life, hope, oath, serenity, sojourn, god, hearth, crown, throne, crest, guard, rise, ascent, circle, ring, twin, vigil, breath, new, whistle, grasp, snap, fringe, threshold, arch, cleft, bend, home, fruit, wilds, echo, moonlight, sunlight, starlight, splendor, vigilance, honor, memory, fortune, aurora, paradise, caress

(adjectives) gentle, pleasant, prosperous, peaceful, sweet, good, great, mild, grand, topic, lush, wild, abundant, verdant, sylvan, vital, florid, bosky, callow, verdurous, lucious, fertile, spellbound, captivating, mystical, hidden, arcane, clandestine, esoteric, covert, cryptic, runic, otherworldly, touched, still, fair, deep, quiet, bright, sheer, tranquil, ancient, light, far, -wrought, tidal, royal, shaded, swift, true, free, high, vibrant, pure, argent, hibernal, ascendant, halcyon, silken, bountiful, gilded, colossal, massive, stout, elder, -bourne, furrowed, happy, merry, -bound, loud, lit, silk, quiet, bright, luminous, shining, burnished, glossy, brilliant, lambent, lucent, lustrous, radiant, resplendent, vivid, vibrant, illuminated, silvery, limpid, sunlit, divine, sacred, holy, eternal, celestial, spiritual, almighty, anointed, consecrated, exalted, hallowed, sanctified, ambrosial, beatific, blissful, demure, naked, bare, ample, coy,  deific, godly, omnipotent, omnipresent, rapturous, sacramental, sacrosanct, blessed, majestic, iridescent, glowing, overgrown, dense, hard, timeless, sly, scatter, everlasting, full, half, first, last

(verb/adverbs) arch (arching / arched), wink (winking), sing, nestle, graze, stroll, roll, flourish, bloom, bud, burgeon, live, dawn, hide, dawn, run, pray, wake, laugh, wake, glimmer, glitter, drift, sleep, tumble, bind, arch, blush, grin, glister, beam, meander, wind, widen, charm, bewitch, enthrall, entrance, enchant, allure, beguile, glitter, shimmer, sparkle twinkle, crest, quiver, slumber, herald, shelter, leap, click, climb, scuttle, dig, barter, chant, hum, chime, kiss, flirt, tempt, tease, play, seduce

Generic “Fantasy-Sounding” Word Parts

A - D

aaz, ada, adaer, adal, adar, adbar, adir, ae, ael, aer, aern, aeron, aeryeon, agar, agis, aglar, agron, ahar, akan, akyl, al, alam, alan, alaor, ald, alea, ali, alir, allyn, alm, alon, alor, altar, altum, aluar, alys, amar, amaz, ame, ammen, amir, amol, amn, amus, anar, andor, ang, ankh, ar, ara, aram, arc, arg, arian, arkh, arla, arlith, arn, arond, arthus, arum, arvien, ary, asha, ashyr, ask, assur, aster, astra, ath, athor, athra, athryn, atol, au, auga, aum, auroch, aven, az, azar, baal, bae, bael, bak, bal, balor, ban, bar, bara, barr, batol, batar, basir, basha, batyr, bel, belph, belu, ben, beo, bere, berren, berun, besil, bezan, bhaer, bhal, blask, blis, blod, bor, boraz, bos, bran, brath, braun, breon, bri, bry, bul, bur, byl, caer, cal, calan, cara, cassa, cath, cela, cen, cenar, cerul, chalar, cham, chion, cimar, clo, coram, corel, corman, crim, crom, daar, dach, dae, dago, dagol, dahar, dala, dalar, dalin, dam, danas, daneth, dannar, dar, darian,  darath, darm, darma, darro, das, dasa, dasha, dath, del, delia, delimm, dellyn, delmar, delo, den, dess, dever, dhaer, dhas, dhaz, dhed, dhin, din, dine, diar, dien, div, djer, dlyn, dol, dolan, doon, dora, doril, doun, dral, dranor, drasil, dren, drian, drien, drin, drov, druar, drud, duald, duatha, duir, dul, dulth, dun, durth, dyra, dyver,

E - H

ea, eber, eden, edluk, egan, eiel, eilean, ejen, elath, eld, eldor, eldra, elith emar, ellesar, eltar, eltaran, elth, eltur, elyth, emen, empra, emril, emvor, ena, endra, enthor, erad, erai, ere, eriel, erith, erl, eron, erre, eryn, esk, esmel, espar, estria, eta, ethel, eval, ezro, ezan, ezune, ezil, fael, faelar, faern, falk, falak, farak, faril, farla, fel, fen, fenris, fer, fet, fin, finar, forel, folgun, ful, fulk, fur, fyra, fallon, gael, gach, gabir, gadath, gal, galar, gana, gar, garth, garon, garok, garne, gath, geir, gelden, geren,  geron, ghal, ghallar, ghast, ghel, ghom, ghon, gith, glae, glander, glar, glym, gol, goll, gollo, goloth, gorot, gost, goth, graeve, gran, grimm, grist, grom, grosh, grun, grym, gual, guil, guir, gulth, gulur, gur, gurnth, gwaer, haa, hael, haer, hadar, hadel, hakla, hala, hald, halana, halid, hallar, halon, halrua, halus, halvan, hamar, hanar, hanyl, haor, hara, haren, haresk, harmun, harrokh, harrow, haspur, haza, hazuth, heber,  hela, helve, hem, hen, herath, hesper, heth, hethar, hind, hisari, hjaa, hlath, hlond, hluth, hoarth, holtar, horo, hotun, hrag, hrakh, hroth, hull, hyak, hyrza

I - M

iibra, ilth, ilus, ilira, iman, imar, imas, imb, imir, immer, immil, imne, impil, ingdal, innar, ir, iriae, iril, irith, irk, irul, isha, istis, isil, itala, ith, ithal, itka, jada, jae, jaeda, jahaka, jala, jarra, jaro, jath, jenda, jhaamm, jhothm, jinn, jinth, jyn, kado, kah, kal, kalif, kam, kana, kara, karg, kars, karth, kasp, katla, kaul, kazar, kazr, kela, kelem, kerym, keth, keva, kez, kezan, khaer, khal, khama, khaz, khara, khed, khel, khol, khur, kil, kor, korvan, koll, kos, kir, kra, kul, kulda, kund, kyne, lae, laen, lag, lan, lann, lanar, lantar, lapal, lar, laran, lareth, lark, lath, lauth, lav, lavur, lazar, leih, leshyr, leth, lhaza, lhuven, liad, liam, liard, lim, lin, lirn, lisk, listra, lith, liya, llair, llor, lok, lolth, loran, lorkh, lorn, loth, lothen, luen, luir, luk, lund, lur, luth, lyndus, lyra, lyth, maal, madrasm maera, maer, maerim, maes, mag, magra, mahand, mal, malar, mald, maldo, mar, mara, mark, marl, maru, maruk, meir, melish, memnon, mer, metar, methi, mhil, mina, mir, miram, mirk, mista, mith, moander, mok, modir, modan, mon, monn, mor, more, morel, moril, morn, moro, morrow, morth, mort, morum, morven, muar, mul, mydra, myr, myra, myst

N - S

naar, nadyra, naedyr, naga, najar, nal, naal, nalir, nar, naruk, narbond, narlith, narzul, nasaq, nashkel, natar, nath, natha, neir, neth, nether, nhall, nikh, nil, nilith, noan, nolvurm nonthal, norda, noro, novul, nul, nur, nus, nyan, nyth, ober, odra, oghr, okoth, olleth, olodel, omgar, ondath, onthril, ordul, orish, oroch, orgra, orlim, ormath, ornar, orntath, oroch, orth, orva, oryn, orzo, ostel, ostor, ostrav, othea, ovar, ozod, ozul, palan, palad, pae, peldan, pern, perris, perim, pele, pen, phail, phanda, phara, phen, phendra, pila, pinn, pora, puril, pur, pyra, qadim, quar, quel, ques, quil, raah, rael, ran, ranna, rassil, rak, rald, rassa, reddan, reith, relur, ren, rendril, resil, reska, reth, reven, revar, rhy, rhynn, ria, rian, rin, ris, rissian, rona, roch, rorn, rora, rotha, rual, ruar, ruhal, ruil, ruk, runn, rusk, ryn, saa, saar, saal, sabal, samar, samrin, sankh, sar, sarg, sarguth, sarin, sarlan, sel, seld, sember, semkh, sen, sendrin, septa, senta, seros, shaar, shad, shadra, shae, shaen, shaera, shak, shalan, sham, shamath, shan, shana, sharan, shayl, shemar, shere, shor, shul, shyll, shyr, sidur, sil, silvan, sim, sintar, sirem, skar, skell, skur, skyr, sokol, solan, sola, somra, sor, ssin, stel, strill, suldan, sulk, sunda, sur, surkh, suth, syl, sylph, sylune, syndra, syth

T - Z

taak, taar, taer, tah, tak, tala, talag, talar, talas, talath, tammar, tanar, tanil, tar, tara, taran, tarl, tarn, tasha, tath, tavil, telar, teld, telf, telos, tempe, tethy, tezir, thaar, thaer, thal, thalag, thalas, thalan, thalar, thamor, thander, thangol, thar, thay, thazal, theer, theim, thelon, thera, thendi, theril, thiir, thil, thild, thimir, thommar, thon, thoon, thor, thran, thrann, threl, thril, thrul, thryn, thuk, thultan, thume, thun, thy, thyn, thyr, tir, tiras, tirum, tohre, tol, tolar, tolir,  tolzrin, tor, tormel, tormir, traal, triel, trith, tsath, tsur, tul, tur, turiver, turth, tymor, tyr, uder, udar, ugoth, uhr, ukh, ukir, uker, usten, ulgarth, ulgoth, ultir, ulur, umar, umath, umber, unara, undro, undu, untha, upir, ur, ursa, ursol, uron, uth, uthen, uz, van, vaar, vaelan, vaer, vaern, val valan, valash, vali, valt, vandan, vanede, vanrak, var, varyth, vassa, vastar, vaunt, vay, vel, velar, velen, velius, vell, velta, ven, veren, vern, vesper, vilar, vilhon, vintor, vir, vira, virdin, volo, volun, von, voon, vor, voro, vos, vosir, vosal, vund, war, wara, whel, wol, wynn, wyr, wyrm, xer, xul, xen, xian, yad, yag, yal, yar, yath, yeon, yhal, yir, yirar, yuir, yul, yur, zail, zala, zalhar, zan, zanda, zar, zalar, zarach, zaru, zash, zashu, zemur, zhent, zim, ziram, zindala, zindar, zoun, zul, zurr, zuth, zuu, zym

A lot of places are named after historical events, battles, and people, so keep that in mind. God/Goddess names tied to your world also work well. Places are also often named after things that the area is known for, like Georgia being known for its peaches.

My brain was fried by the end of this so feel free to add more!

I hope you find this reference helpful and good luck world-building!

-Mel

[clovertrails]

Finding a new trail

Leaving my front door, I turned left, walking south. After a few intersections, I hit Mosholu Avenue, a commercial street whose name derives from the Algonquin word for “smooth stones” or “small stones.” Oddly, the river that does run through Riverdale, which likely created the “smooth stones” which the word mosholu describes, is named Tibbetts Creek, after a European settler. It’s kind of odd to name a commercial avenue after a geographic feature of a river, no? But perhaps that could be read in a hopeful manner—to think of the urban commercial avenue as a river incarnate, a life-giving force through the town.

At Mosholu, I turned right (west, toward the river), following the avenue as it rounded corner, passing the local Tudor-style NYPL branch. Past the Riverdale Neighborhood House, a quaint colonial building with a pool and playground that looks vaguely hospitable for a certain kind of respectable citizen. Past the weedy baseball field, past the playground, mostly empty during the pandemic, but sometimes with a gaggle of teenage guys, chilling.

I usually crossed the street at this point and walked up a sidewalk to a curious little park that exists as an island amidst a crisscrossing web of highways. I walked up the street mostly because I didn’t feel like crossing the six-lane avenue just yet. Wanted secluded lanes that would allow me to keep to myself.

The park consists of a hilltop, a green island that just peeps over a loop-de-loop of highways, another one of Robert Moses’ concrete graffiti scrawls over the landscape of the Bronx. There’s a dog park in the middle that’s sort of falling apart; I’ve never seen anyone using it, dog or human. Mostly there are a lot of benches, facing outward and inward.

I kept walking, down garden-style, five-story, red brick apartments. Turned onto a quiet residential road with suburban single-family houses. No sidewalks, just gravelly weedy transitional spaces between grass and pavement.

I remember the gates first. I didn’t yet know it was a school; all I saw was a gate and behind it, trimmed lawns rolling up to a genteel brick building. A gated compound, vast flat fields, lacrosse fields, parking lots – of course, a private school. I followed the road as it sloped downward, hugging the edge of the prep school. There is something so sinister about a totally manicured lawn. How much labor, how much capital, do you need, to sustain this ugly face of control? Walking alongside the compound, I thought of all the iterations of this sort of gated, fenced-in, land – estates, kingdoms, plantations. 

At the end of the hill, the road spilled into nondescript dirt space. From a handful of cars, I gathered that it was a parking lot. The air changed, becoming cooler, denser. Ahead, the gravel met a chain-link fence tagged with the NYC Parks logo, a green maple leaf. This was a park? An old traffic cone and squashed cardboard boxes lay fallen against the fence. If you were walking quickly, or even driving, you would miss it entirely. My mind flashed to other Hudson parks I knew – Riverside Park, Riverbank State Park, Fort Tryon, Inwood. But this one was new, never previously encountered on a map or in person.

It seemed out of nowhere, a glen of hickory and oak, between mansions and railroads. No surprise, my mind flashed back to the gated private school that I had just passed. It was not lost on me that the serendipity of slipping into this trail occurred next to a private school with a 50K tuition in one of the richest neighborhoods in this zip code. Technically, this is a public park, but it is geographically located for the wealthy elite.

Not knowing what was inside this park, or how far it extended, I entered. Dusty paths, tall hickory and oak, flush with undergrowth. I followed a dirt trail and saw the glimmers of sunlight through the kaleidoscopic canopy of trees. I soon found the chain-link fence that formed the eastern perimeter of this park, and glimpsed the water beyond, drinking in its murmuring waves. Wandering more, I came across a dried-up gully, with a fallen tree trunk spanning its width. The top of the trunk had eroded into a temptingly flat surface. Certainly passable, if one had the guts to try. I walked five steps forward, paused, and retreated. Too old.

One thing to know is that the trees there were very tall. They do not rival the California redwoods, but the distance between the bushy undergrowth and the swaying canopy overhead felt vast. The treetops were so tall that they caught all the river wind, swirling it amongst their branches, so that I, a small ant standing below, heard the roar of the wind more so than felt its touch on my skin.

In the immediate vicinity of my body, there was the peace and quiet of overgrown trails and mossy trunks, but several leagues upward (what does a league measure? I do not know, but it feels like the right word), the treetops were in a great upheaval—maple, oak, hickory, all mingling—caught up in the wind, swaying and fluttering in one uplift.

The trail itself is fairly narrow, walk about 15 meters one way and you will see the faint outlines of a chain-link fences. On the riverside, you’ll catch sight of the railroads ahead, and on the roadside, the outlines of secluded houses, lights of vehicles driving by.

But this place, it felt like a little gem, one that, momentarily, was all my own. I knew that if I pulled up Google Maps, I would find this trail on the maps, and that if I searched it online, I would find the NYC Parks page for this trail, explaining in byte-form. The zoning, the planning committee, the pushback, et cetera. But it would say nothing about how it felt, walking through desolate suburban streets and posh gated lawns to then discover, without notice, relief. A windy green corridor, tucked by the river, rushing, still, roaring, quiet—all at once. 

I returned to the trail the next day, and the day after that. I found my legs craving, turning toward the park. One day during dinner, my mom inquired after where I went walking that day, and I mentioned that I went to Riverdale Park, by the river. They were puzzled – where?

Is it by the train station, my mom asked. By the train station, I sometimes see a little trail there and wonder what it is, she said, referring to the Riverdale Metro North station that services the Hudson Line, connecting Grand Central in midtown to Poughkeepsie up north in the valley.

No, I shake my head, no, thinking that she was referring to the pathetic concrete strip accessible to pedestrians by the train station. It’s basically a 15 meter long sidewalk with a single bench and overflowing trash cans where you might sit down and look over the Hudson. It’s certainly something, at least, but one cannot feel antsy, gazing upon the vast sweep of the Hudson while hemmed in by these arbitrary fences for “viewing.”  

Mine was a place that I had resisted placing on a map; it was this little gem of a shady glen pocketed into the outskirts of a suburb. It’s further south of here, next to Wave Hill, I said. You walked there? My dad asked, incredulous. Yes, I walked, I said, hiding my pride in my nonchalance. It’s only like twenty minutes.

Of course, my parents did not understand. They keep to their established routes – to the train station, to the field, to the grocery store. Whatever trail that my mom was referring to was not it. Besides, the trail was quite far from the train station – at least half a mile or so south of it.

I showed them the trail on Google Maps, pointing out the green rectangular patch. Ah, we have never been there, they mused. A week or so later, Saturday afternoon, instead of taking the car to the beach on Long Island, as is our tradition, we drove over to the trail. They were astonished when they arrived at the dirt entrance of the park.  A secret! They exclaimed. They’ve been keeping this a secret! Five years and we had no idea this place existed. Who would have known? So out of the way. Who was keeping this secret??

I chuckled at their astonishment, their indignation, that they had only now discovered this place. Part of my reaction is a weariness of knowing my parents calcified habits. They have lived in New York City for almost a decade now but still – my dad especially – are still suburban in their bones. Their favorite store remains Costco, where they shop at least once a week, despite having been empty nesters for more than a few years now. During the weekends, they drive up north to the suburbs to go hiking more often than they drive south to Manhattan for entertainment. The most urban that they venture is to the local Asian neighborhoods – Chinatown, Flushing, Elmhurst, for shopping and eating.

But their indignant exclamation, they’ve been keeping this secret! lingers with me and evinces, I think, a kernel of truth. If you zoom out from where I’m standing, in this little park in Riverdale, and run your eyes down the western length of New York City, you will see green hugging most of the coastline, corresponding to the richest zip codes in Manhattan. I think about the other, far larger and more famous park, Van Cortlandt Park, that sits next to the 242nd street subway station and attracts more populous crowds of Black, Latinx, Asian, and white residents, picnicking, playing baseball, soccer, flying kites, working out. Of course, Van Cortlandt has far more acreage and resources to avail itself to such recreation, but the park is well-trodden and busy, evidenced not only by the multitude of bodies but also the glass shards that depressingly litter its trails. Most of all, I guess, Van Cortlandt is unmissable, obvious, in plain sight. 

On the other hand, the trail running through Riverdale Park is sequestered away, on the margins with a nondescript entrance and overgrown signage. This trail offers the illusory feeling of having discovered it by yourself, a feeling of privacy within a public space. And within this privacy, unexpected and lively things emerge. But how might relishing the serendipitous joys of stumbling into one’s own world of green manifest not the sublimity of nature (or the self, touched by nature), but rather the hoarding of wealth, in its material and immaterial forms, across private and public lines? How might we deem both of these to be true and think of them together?  Things to keep thinking about…

[gooseandgoat]

SORTING

June 16, 2000—we heard the echo of a meadowlark.

Let go the meadowlark and the valley in which its song           repeated itself and the valley in which its song unfolded.

Let go the dream of such clear sound.

Let go the walks, dinners, drinks, talks, senses of beginnings, let go            the beginnings, we will never begin again.

Let go the still gray sky. It has propped us up long enough.

Let go the nights.

Let go the voice that answered me in earnest in all things I find            I can no longer imagine it.

Imagine the rents in the driveway cement from the rain that pooled            and stayed and the way the cement buckled wildly in the years that followed            and the years that followed in which no one came to the door.

You came to the door and said my name and the whole weathered mess            glowed beneath the afternoon’s hanging clouds and weeds            grew in blunt stalks from the cracks.

Who would you change for?

The maples change more in an hour of wind than we change.

The aspens shatter light I have felt the leaves in their wind-glittering                                                                    strangeness. Let go

the town and its dry river paths the white bellies of the swallows            under the bridge flashing in the last minutes of dusk and I knew I could not            continue as I had been nor did I sense a course.

Who are your friends.

What do you care for.

What would you give up if you could give up            anything. When were you afraid there is no extreme need that is not                          warped by fear. What does the world

           require of you have you loved the time you have spent here.                          Was it because of the people with you. Or that the silence

was never silence it was always the fan’s white noise in the window            at night and below that the new rain on the grass            and below that the grass as it bends under the water            and night buried under the water and the town            at night under rain and grateful for rain in this dry season.

*

There and not there like the wind in the yard.

There and not there in a smile that is not         itself but a thought in a far country and a brush                          of the shoulder that in a single minute means

everything. Everything you have said in support and questioned.         In support of love that unfolds where one least                          imagines it for example a year of endings.

A white shirt. A shoelace a razor. A pacing in the hallways at night         like the steady lines of bicycles fanning across flat green fields.

The shadow of an airplane over the field or that shadow         as it ripples over a building through the thick windless         heat. Are you paying attention         to what passes through you.

                                    Through you I came to see a better life but cannot account for why I have not always         lived it.

A polite vagueness in the Good bye! and Good luck!

Goodbye to the laughter I love I did not keep it close enough.

Goodbye to the mind that moves along walls and roads its un-        ceasing spirit I wish I were always in its path.

To the boys playing soccer at five in the leafy park goodbye         their gamesmanship goodbye                          goodbye to the gravel they scattered the ground                          they scuffed the houses they return to, may they always have homes.

Goodbye to the busses and the poppies that flew                          past us behind bus-windows in deep red-orange-dotted-         smudges and the edgeless fields where you                          walked when I wasn’t                          there, with you, in your head,                          where you walked, were you                          alone, were there                          fields, how alone                          were you. How

alone can anyone stand to be. Any one of us might be         tapped any one lead away when that day                          comes will you be                          ready. Will you be prepared for what you                          have not said.

Will you know what you love.

*

To have been alone together is to have been         alone within an         illusion. Step into a dream         of life its tapwater and shoes its         coffee-cups paper-clips sheets the white light that backs every curtain every room casually shared every question will you help me with this I will help you.

Step into a life that is not         dreamed and try to say now if there are         remnants of illusion. Is what you say every day real. Are the lesser estrangements         deeper and if so how much can you bear and if not         what will convince you.

Does the sparrow on the t.v. antenna convince you—it is there every day.

Every day the sun hits the red roofs of the village where you lived         and every evening the swifts dive through the crooked stone streets chasing         bugs we cannot see. The birds rose level with our torsos on the terrace and whistled         their strong eerie whistle I heard it each morning a lone swift                          veering past our bedroom window.

The rains rose and fell through the winter and the spring rose and the beating summer         arrived. The birds arrived         each night and often we took the stairs                          to the terrace after dinner to watch their black bodies in hundreds rise and spike and dive, each in its own private         depth, sharp hap-         hazard wing-splitting                          rolls. As if there were hundreds of separate skies.

*

So that nothing will ever again be for us what it was.

The long walk to the grocery store in noon-white         heat. The men standing immobile at boule, murmuring with the toss.

Constant church bells, the apple you set on the counter to eat,         the shake of a head saying no. Let go

the bistro the woman by the creek the disease.         Notes, letters, poems strung word-to-word.

Let go the young girl walking toward a building at the end of a long city-         sidewalk I see she is looking         toward someone there in the highest window her mother or a tutor                          watching her child and neither one of them

needs to wave. Had I been able to read the signs, had you been able         to speak more clearly, had I         noticed, not         assumed, had you come to me         in understanding linking need to         need, had I         heard you, had you         spoken, I heard, as you         said the words, the harder         course, you         insisted, nor         have you always         lived it, persist, and cannot any longer         pass lightly over         anything. You came to me                          in understanding and brought with you the need of a whole life,

having for months looked elsewhere, the streets of the town after midnight,         a nullity in each livingroom’s blue t.v., letters         to others, drought         in the mind drought in the neighborhood         grass. Certain         you would always be there.         Certain you would follow. The night’s

hours in talk and the paths our thoughts took         together. The dust-choked house and its un-utterable shag carpet         or the blue house and all the passing cars stranded in its         snowbanks the bitter arguments sweet reprieves the funny         Midwestern meals you cooked the mountain ash years without cigarettes         heaps of sweaters dishes the fire         in the kitchen the purple         kitchen. The absurd red car your mother gave us,         the books we wrote, sentences we took out,         pencil in the margins your shrinking         penmanship new shoes your smile the one that         seizes at what’s         real. The laundry the prosody. The refusals         the constant generosities every desperate apology.         You have to hold it in mind all at once.         You have to need it enough.

*

If I let go what will be left. Too hard         to sort each sorrow from each joy

        and why, instead of answering, we passed into silence.         Clear, deep green, like a lake we’ve never been to

and stood at its blue edge-grass and felt nothing, like sunlight,         as it moved across our faces, slow                          warmth, amber-

white, and when it passed we didn’t                                     know. But we stayed.

[garudabluffs]

The Wallkill Valley Rail Trail is a 13-mile off-road section of the Empire State Trail, beginning in New Paltz, crossing the Springtown Bridge pictured here, passing over the historic Rosendale railroad trestle and coming to an end two miles south of downtown Kingston. Outside Magazine ranked the Empire State Trail the top rail trail in the country.

Empire State Trail named top rail trail in the U.S.

25 trails made Outside Magazine’s list, but none can beat New York’s 750-mile gem

”The Empire State Trail, which is 75 percent off-road and 25 percent on-road, is the longest multi-use trail in the country, stretching from New York City to Albany with the Hudson Valley Greenway Trail, from Albany to Canada with the Champlain Valley Trail, and from Albany to Buffalo with the Erie Canalway Trail.”

READ MORE https://www.timesunion.com/hudsonvalley/outdoors/article/Empire-State-Trail-named-top-rail-trail-in-country-17051204.php?IPID=Times-Union-HP-editors-picks

Mar 11, 2022         The 25 Best Rail Trails in the U.S.     

READ MORE  https://www.outsideonline.com/adventure-travel/destinations/north-america/25-best-rail-trails-in-the-us/

23. Island Line Rail Trail  Vermont

13 miles: Burlington to South Hero, Vermont

See the best of Vermont—the Green Mountains, Lake Champlain, and the Colchester Causeway—via this popular trail, a mix of pavement and crushed limestone. It starts on the waterfront via the Burlington Greenway before heading north to the Colchester Causeway, a sliver of land across Lake Champlain that links mainland Vermont with South Hero on the Grand Isle. Completing this route requires taking the Island Line Bike Ferry to reach the Causeway’s northern end.   https://www.traillink.com/trail/island-line-rail-trail/

6. Paul Bunyan State Trail

119 miles: Bemidji to Brainerd, Minnesota

Minnesota’s longest paved bike trail shows how the state earned its “land of 10,000 lakes” motto. The path travels by more than 20 lakes and 10 rivers and streams on its journey from Lake Bemidji State Park to Brainerd’s Crow Wing State Park, 130 miles north of Minneapolis. More than 15 trail towns fall along the route, and a canopy of aspens, maples, and oaks shade the way.

17. Elroy-Sparta State Trail

34 miles: Elroy to Sparta, Wisconsin

The nation’s first rail trail is also one of its most impressive. The crushed-limestone path runs through hand-dug train tunnels, with the longest reaching up to nearly three-quarters of a mile; given the distance, temperatures inside hover around 50 to 60 degrees Fahrenheit, no matter the outside weather. The route also has views of wetlands, prairies, and farmland.

19. Bizz Johnson National Recreation Trail

25 miles: Westwood to Susanville, California

This gravel route parallels the former Fernley and Lassen Railroad line that runs through California’s Lassen County, with stretches that traverse Susan River Canyon and numerous historic tunnels. Thick pine and fir forests shade much of this path from Westwood of Susanville, roughly 200 miles north of Sacramento.

24. Moab Canyon Pathway

13 miles: Moab to Arches National Park, Utah

What the Moab Canyon Pathway lacks in long-distance miles, it makes up for with surreal Utah scenery. The asphalt route follows Old Highway 191 from Moab along the southern border of Arches National Park, linking up with the Colorado Riverway Bridge along the way. It then follows an active railroad line to the route’s terminus near the Gemini Bridges Trailhead, a 16-mile mountain biking and ATV route.

[sidewalkstamps]

R. E. Hazard 1966 (Photo taken in San Diego, CA by Rachel Hughes in November 2021).

Roscoe Elwood Hazard, Sr. was born in 1880 in Arizona but moved to San Diego, CA in 1900, becoming a paving contractor in 1915 (California State Parks’s website).

I have to say, I probably wouldn’t use my name if it was Hazard and I wanted to work in construction! Nevertheless, R.E. Sr., known as “Pappy,” did so, filing articles of incorporation in downtown San Diego, California on June 22, 1926 with the California Secretary of State (Corporation Wiki), focusing on road construction and excavation. In 1926, they gave out medals emblazoned with Sr.’s portrait as advertising.

In 1927, they built the Bank of America building in San Diego at 6th and Broadway.

As early as 1928, they, along with E.S. Cook, sued the Holton Interurban Railway Company et al. regarding “the rates assessed for transportation of crushed rock, sand and gravel, carloads, from Frink to Westmoreland, El Centro and other points on the lines of the defendants in Imperial County,” but the matter was settled when they adjusted the rates and the proceedings were dismissed (”Annual Report of the Railroad Commission of the State of California from July 1, 1928 to June 30, 1929,” Appendix to the Journal of the Senate and Assembly of the Legislature of the State of California, Volume 1, Sup’t State Printing, 1931). Right away, “Pappy bought a fleet of trucks and wagons with nearly every available horse and mule in the region. He began a hauling, excavation and site construction business which helped shaped early San Diego (US Builders Review, July 6, 2015). At the San Diego Automotive Museum, you can see their old Mack Truck, built in 1922, similar to the one in the Bank of American construction photo. 

Hazard then expanded into manufacturing concrete blocks at a site in Mission Valley. “At the height, the manufacturing plant was producing as many as 400 different varieties of block and brick” (US Builders Review, July 6, 2015). In 1931, the company built the First Avenue Bridge across Maple Canyon north of downtown San Diego ( but “Standard Iron Works fabricated the structure”) (San Diego History Center).

He was “an avid collector of Western memorabilia who traveled all over the country acquiring Western objects [including] horse-drawn vehicles, saddles, branding irons, firearms, tack, various ethnographic objects, a large number of Southwestern Indian pottery and much more.” He even opened an “Old West Museum” at the aforementioned manufacturing plant site, but he gifted the collection to California State Parks via Governor Ronald Reagan in 1972 (Daniel P. Faigin, California Highways, 1996-2020. https://www.cahighways.org/ROUTE805.html). Much of the collection is at the Seeley Stables, State Museum Resource Center, and Antelope Valley Indian Museum, which, by the way, is one of my favorite places and is basically a museum of how not to be a museum in the best way possible. According to California State Parks, “the Hazard Collection is one of the largest personal collections donated to California State Parks” at over 3,000 objects.

These photos of Pappy from the Ed Fletcher collection were taken sometime between 1926 and 1950. The second one is from October, 1949 and was taken by Lucille Stewart at the Sacramento Fair. Fletcher described Pappy as “a friend of a life-time who would tackle anything where there was a chance to make money.” I believe the horse is named Silver Jr..

Also in Mission Valley is a shopping mall called Hazard Center. I just can’t get over this name. I don’t want so many hazards in my life, please and thank you.

At the mall are sculptures of R.E., Sr. and Bruce Hazard near the parking lot. Sr.’s sculpture is a life-sized bronze with the phrase “Be just and fear not” and Bruce’s says “Everyone’s friend.”

According to their own website, they graded and paved “much of Rancho Santa Fe” (a census-designated place in San Diego County). R.E.’s son Bruce R. started working at the company in 1935 when he was 17 years old. In 1943, Wood Roadmizer Co, et al, v. R. E. Hazard Contracting Co. et al was dismissed with prejudice (U.S. Department of Commerce. “Patent Suits.” Official Gazette of the United States Patent Office, vol. 553, no. August 3, 1943, Aug. 1943, p. 10.).

They also did a lot of major freeway construction, in tandem with W.F. Maxwell, Inc., “a specialist in bridge and concrete structure construction.” In 1967, after winning with the low bid of $11.7 million dollars, the two companies constructed 4.3 miles of 8-lane freeway in San Diego (part of the I-5) (Pacific Road Builder and Engineering Review, Volumes 110-113, Fellom Publishing Company, 1967) and also major portions of Interstates 15, 805, and others. They also worked with Taylor & Sloan, Inc.  to “place sewer pipe” on the I-5 in San Diego. In 1985, Hazard purchased W. F. Maxwell. There is a bridge named after “Pappy” - the Adams Avenue overcrossing, built in 1970, is officially named the Roscoe E Hazard Memorial Bridge. According to the San Diego History Center, Pappy was an “ardent supporter of San Diego history.”

Hazard, Sr. died in 1975. Bruce’s younger brother, “Togo,” was also “R.E. Hazard” and ran the company for decades after returning from WWII. He was born May 12, 1922 in San Diego to R.E. Sr. and Muriel, had three siblings, and attended Point Loma High School and University of California, Berkeley. He married Dorothy and their marriage lasted 51 years until her death in 2001; he died in 2010 of cancer at 88 years old (he had retired in the mid-1990s). 

Togo was also an animal lover and a board member of the Helen Woodward Animal Center. The above photo is from 2009.

In 1985, “the company moved its headquarters to the Miramar area of San Diego (as part of) a 42-acre mixed use project.”

Other members of the family have had their turn running the company, such as Thomas B. Hazard and currently retired Terry Grant Hazard, a Republican from La Jolla, CA. The company was all in the family until 1998, when Dave Randal purchased it from the Hazards.

Now they are “a full-service general engineering contracting firm with a focus on private sector work,” including “commercial site development, residential subdivisions, golf course construction and public sector projects throughout Southern California.” One of their “top customers” is Cal Trans, doing paving, widening, and interchange work (US Builders Review, July 6, 2015).

This is their logo today:

Additional sources:

“Local Builder R.E. ‘Togo’ Hazard Dies at 88.” San Diego Union-Tribune [San Diego, CA], 29 Dec. 2010, www.sandiegouniontribune.com/sdut-local-builder-re-togo-hazard-dies-at-88-2010dec29-story.html.

Ed Fletcher Papers, Box 76, Folder 9. MSS 81. Special Collections & Archives, UC San Diego, La Jolla.

Minerals Yearbook, Volume 1, p. 806. United States Bureau of Mines, 1980.

[nancypullen]

Searching for Home (Warning: long post about nothing)

That blog title may seem odd since I’ve been in this house since 1999.  Mt. Juliet has been home because this is (mostly) where my kids grew up.  Sure, they remember Barrow and Fairbanks and living the Alaskan life, but they were little guys when we moved here.  Matt was 3rd grade and Tyler was just getting ready for kindergarten.  As for me, prior to moving here I’d spent the bulk of my life in Alaska, some of it on Ft. Wainwright, some of it in North Pole, some of it in Barrow, and much of it in Fairbanks. 

During my childhood we bounced from post to post as a military family (no complaints, I loved it), and didn’t really settle until Dad retired and I was entering high school in North Pole.  We spent a period going back and forth between Ft. Wainwright , Alaska (4th,5th,6th grade, then 9-12th) and Ft. Bragg, North Carolina (K 1,2,3 then 7th and 8th grade). But when you return to a post you don’t return to the friends you once had, they’ve all moved on.  You go into different housing, different schools, and make new friends.  I was born in Georgia, but have no memory of the state. We lived in Louisiana and I have vague memories of it, none very good.  I was more, or maybe less, fortunate than some depending on how you look at it.  More fortunate because I sometimes returned to familiar areas, and as the youngest in my family I was the only one who was able to start and finish high school in one place.  Less fortunate because my dad had an aversion to putting in for posts overseas - so many of my friends had the opportunity to live in Germany, Italy, Spain, and other exciting spots.  When my family was military Alaska was considered comparable to overseas posts, so that’s where we went.  My sister was born just as Alaska became a state in 1959.  My brother was born there as well, and two years after his arrival I was born 4,284 miles away at Ft. Benning, Georgia.  Our family made many trips up and down the Al-Can Highway (through Canada to Alaska)  and it wasn’t paved.   Three kids crammed into a station wagon that’s pulling a U-Haul (or a camper) on a washboard gravel road for 2200 miles with very little to see...someone give my mother a medal.   No doubt that road and its amenities have improved, but at that time it was sparse. I spent seventeen years of my life in Alaska, I stayed well after the rest of my family had fled.  By the time I was eighteen I was without parents or siblings in the state but I had Mickey.  I was young and in love.  My parents had moved to Florida, my sister had followed love to Rochester,New York, and my brother had joined the Army and was in Germany.  Alaska is where I started married life, became a mother, and experienced so many of life’s firsts.  But I don’t miss it.  Fairbanks is kind of a gritty town.  Not the Fairbanks that tourists see, but the town that’s there after the snow flies.  Perhaps if my roots were in Sitka or Juneau or even somewhere in the Matanuska Valley I’d feel a longing to go back.  Maybe not. Everything is harder there.  As a mother of two little boys just the logistics of getting to the grocery store and back were a pain.  Unplug and start the car (if you don’t have a garage) to warm it up.  While the car is thawing, get everyone decked out in arctic gear from head to toe.  Load up and slide to the store. Debate whether to leave car running and risk theft, or turn it off and do your shopping as a mad dash. Get everyone inside and unzipped so they don’t sweat to death while shopping.  Rush around buying ridiculously priced food and so-so produce and check out.  Dress kids again, then give them whiplash trying to pull the grocery cart across the frozen, rutted, bumpy parking lot. Unload into trunk, then sit down on hard as a rock car seat because you turned the car off and everything is frozen. Slide home on icy roads.  You see where this is going. The dressing and undressing so that no one gets frostbite.  The elements constantly working against you.  Did I mention that it’s also midnight dark almost all day and night? Don’t get me wrong, I love winter. I love snow.  But I do not love constant darkness and fifty below zero and trying to accomplish every day tasks in weather not meant for humans. Obviously, that wasn’t all winter. Lots of days hovered in the twenty to thirty below zero range. I remember my in-laws coming for a Christmas visit and my father-in-law delighting in tossing a hot cup of coffee into the air to watch it come back down in frozen crystals. Even in the brief but beautiful summers the conveniences that we take for granted here in the lower 48 weren’t available and if they were there was sticker shock.  My friends in Fairbanks still complain about prices, conveniences, lack of goods,etc.   They take great pride in the moose, aurora, and bone-chilling cold.  I don’t want to burst their bubbles and tell them that you can get all of that in Maine, Minnesota, North Dakota, and other northern states AND get Amazon Prime and affordable household goods.  You don’t have to prove anything. So where am I going with this rambling blog? I’m looking for home.  Most people feel a pull toward home, a place or a state.  I don’t. Well, I kind of do...but it’s more for a time and a people.  I miss Weiser, Idaho where we lived for a year with my grandparents while my dad was in Korea.  We also visited every chance we got, mostly when we were transferring between bases.  Those were the safest, happiest, most wonderful times in my life. Grandma and Grandpa’s place was paradise.   But that’s all gone now.  their house and land was sold long ago and it’s now run down and the big shade trees are gone, so are Grandma’s magical gardens.  If I returned to Weiser it wouldn’t be to that cinnamon scented house of love where I slept in an attic bedroom with lace curtains.  I do like Idaho a lot, but it wouldn’t feel like home. I’ve mentioned before that I have a real affection for the town of Wamego in Kansas.  It’s just right.  Situated between Manhattan(about 15 minutes) and Topeka (about 30 minutes) and with Kansas City a bit further east (a bit over an hour) it’s a Norman Rockwell town that takes pride in a charming downtown, a good school system, and being neighborly.  It’s the heartland.  We’ve visited three times and Wamego always comes up when we talk about where we’d like to be. I confess, I love the prairie. Always have.  The politics of Kansas are a hot mess.  I don’t mean that they’re red and I’m blue, I mean that the Kansas GOP has basically bankrupted the state.  I can live in a red state, though I’d love to live in a blue one, but I can’t live in a state devoid of services, money for schools, roads,etc.  I’m keeping a watchful eye on their governor’s race - will they elect Laura Kelly, a woman and democrat who has been a four term state senator and fought Brownback’s destructive policies...or Kobach, Brownback’s right hand man?  I met Brownback at a Wamego 4th of July parade before I knew who he was and every cell in my body screamed DANGER.  You know how sometimes your gut tells you before your brain has a chance to figure things out?  That.  If Kansas votes Kelly, my faith will be restored.  But it’s not home.  We also love Keene, the town in New Hampshire that hosts the fabulous pumpkin festival.  We always walk the towns we like, checking out libraries and other spots, and we always go into grocery stores and compare prices. Keene ticks all of my boxes for a sweet, interesting, walkable, smart city.  Their library was beautiful!  That tells you a lot about a population.  If the library is active it speaks highly of a town.  Property taxes were a little high in Keene, and it’s really not close to any decent airports for Mickey.  Manchester’s small airport is about an hour and twenty minutes away and Boston is almost 2 hours (probably more with traffic).   Granted, we’d probably be retired so maybe that’s not as big of an issue.  Still, we’ll want to see family and that makes it harder for everyone involved.  Keene is beautiful, and it is surrounded by New England’s best - sugar maple farms and covered bridges, and has four beautiful seasons.  Keene is Mickey’s number one choice, but.....you guessed it, it’s not home. I like so many of the small towns outside of Minneapolis (and it’s a blue state!),  and the state of Minnesota ranks sky high in just about every way that matters - great health care, great education system, great economy, and so on.  They’re smart cookies up there.  Admittedly, the biggest draw is that Matt lives up there, but there’s no guarantee he’ll stay.  He’ll be off wherever the scariest diseases live.  Minnesota is at the top of my list though, I really like the people there.  I like coastal Maine, not so much inland Maine.  Sadly their economy is in such a downward spiral that the state is in a depression with no end in sight.  I think they’re ranked 47th in the nation for economic growth and their numbers are stagnant.   It’s weird, Maine’s neighboring states are thriving while their governor sticks to his guns and guts the coffers.   I’ve read article after article showing that the Portland area of southeast Maine is recovering and growing but rural Maine is being left behind.  Businesses are closing, services are being cut, there’s no job creation,  and no one seems to be taking action. Towns are shrinking and doctors, dentists, teachers, and other important services are lost. So...we could probably pick up real estate for a song, but living there might be hard for a retired person. I think I’ll just visit and eat their lobster.    We could just stay put.  Life in Tennessee is certainly affordable.  No state income tax, though we do have a hefty sales tax (here in Wilson County we pay ten cents on a dollar).  Real estate is still affordable - though again, here in Wilson County it has skyrocketed.  If you don’t mine living deep, I mean deep, in Trump country where the religious hypocrisy runs high and tolerance is low - this might be your place.  I didn’t pick it, but I’ve made the best of it for over twenty-five years.  I reached my limit years ago, but the mister has recently started complaining about the heat so maybe we’ll get out after all.  Nashville is twenty minutes and a whole world away.  Maybe if we were young people living downtown we’d see a different Tennessee - Davidson County usually goes blue, a small dot in a deeply red state. Here in Mt. Juliet one of the first things people ask you is where you go to church.  Two weeks ago I went to get my mammogram and the woman who took my information was very chatty.  I engaged and we were yukking it up. As I left her desk to sit down and wait to be called, she said, “You are just precious, where do you go to church?”  When I answered that I don’t belong to a particular church her face fell and that was the end of her friendliness.  No doubt she needed to know which part of the hierarchy I belonged to...the large population of Baptists and Church of Christ followers seem to have a running battle to see who can out holy the other and who can recruit the most new members.  Methodists are pretty cool and there’s even a handful of Lutherans here who won’t bother you at all.   Tennessee is growing by leaps and bounds and has one of the hottest real estate markets in the country thanks to it being a retirement haven.  Low prices, low taxes, low standards.   Ahahahaha!  We have all the services we need at our fingertips, and we can be at the beach or in the mountains in just a few hours.  Definite positives.  We don’t have four nice seasons though - we have an excruciating summer, a beautiful but quick fall, a gray,wet,ugly winter, and a soggy, tornado-ridden spring.  Actually, I’m not complaining about spring - I love big thunderstorms and severe weather.  As long as the power stays on it can thunder and lightning for days and I’m okay. So what do we do? Stay? Go?  Keep looking? We both liked what we saw in a week in South Dakota. Do we look until we’re too old to move?  If we could snap our fingers and just live where we’d like, we’d both go to The Netherlands.  We feel at home there, pretty sad when I feel like a visitor in so many places in the U.S.  My soul feels at home in Salem.  I feel at home when I stand on the prairie and look at the huge sky and rolling hills.  I guess it all comes back to not being FROM anywhere.  In Maine, there are Mainers and outsiders.  It’s very clear.  In Minnesota they’re warm and welcoming, but there are customs, foods, traditions, and basic traits that make one a Minnesotan - I don’t possess any of them, though I don’t think they’d care. I’d just always feel like a visitor.  I didn’t feel that in Kansas, they’re good salt of the earth people, not nosy enough to ask where you’re from or where you go to church.  New Hampshire was the same way.  There didn’t seem to be a divide between born here and moved here folks. I’ve been in Tennessee since ‘93 and I’m still not considered a local.  I’m okay with that.  Not having picked up the customs and quirks of a state or even a region, I can’t really claim a “home”.  If pressed I’d probably say Alaska because that’s where I experienced everything from childhood skinned knees to birthing a baby.  But I can’t say that if I stepped off a plane there tomorrow I’d take a deep breath and say, “Ahhh, home!”  Moving to a new home every two to three years during my formative years made me resilient, it made me friendly.  I make friends easily, but I don’t get too attached - and getting me to really open up, well...

It also gave me a good attitude toward not-so-good places.  Even if you can’t find something positive, hey - you’ll only have to endure it for a couple years, right? (twenty-five years later...)  It gave me the gift of curiosity and of emotional self-sufficiency.  It just didn’t give me a hometown.    So I’m looking, always looking.  I spend hours scouring real estate and then looking up information on citydata.com and other sites.  If I ever move I’ll know more about the place than the folks who already live there.   

Thanks for listening to my scatter-brained ramblings today.  There’s no point to any of this, really.  I yearn for a place that doesn’t exist.  I long for home, but I suppose it’s all in my mind - some magical place that fits and feels right.   I wonder how many people actually have that.  I wonder how many need it?  I’ve spent a lifetime blooming where planted, and I think that’s a crucial skill.  I’m certainly not knocking it.  I just wonder what it feels like to be the plant who gets placed in the perfect environment for growth and health.  Please don’t mistake this post for sorrow or a cry for help - it’s not.  It’s really more of a thinking out loud sort of thing.   Just pondering, trying to work out whether it’s safer to stay put or make a leap.  Will any place be better than the last?  Who knows?  I do know that there are places where being authentic is easier than others.   Guess I’ll just keep looking...any hints?

[mypubliclands]

#NewYearNewAdventures: Our favorite road trips/byways

We’re continuing to share some of the top spots on #yourpubliclands to start the New Year off right. Explore the outdoors with these road trips and byways this year to BLM-managed public lands.

Dalton Highway, Alaska

The Dalton Highway stretches 414 miles across northern Alaska from Livengood (84 miles north of Fairbanks) to Deadhorse and the oilfields of Prudhoe Bay. Built during construction of the trans-Alaska oil pipeline in the 1970s, this mostly gravel highway travels through rolling, forested hills, across the Yukon River and Arctic Circle, through the rugged Brooks Range, and over the North Slope to the Arctic Ocean. Along most of its length, you'll see no strip malls, no gift shops, no service stations, just forest, tundra, and mountains, crossed by a ribbon of road and pipe.The BLM manages a swath of public lands along the highway from the Yukon River to the north side of the Brooks Range. Within the Dalton corridor, the BLM maintains campgrounds, rest areas, interpretive panels and the award-winning Arctic Interagency Visitor Center in Coldfoot.This is no ordinary road -- it pays to be prepared. There is no cell phone service or public Internet connection along the Dalton Highway.

Route 66 Historic Backcountry Byway, Arizona

This 42-mile stretch of two-lane blacktop is one of the last and best-preserved segments of the original Route 66, one of America's first transcontinental highways. This portion of the highway once included one of the most fearsome obstacles for "flatland" travelers in the 1930's: the hairpin curves and steep grades of Sitgreaves Pass, which characterize Old Route 66 as it makes its way over the Black Mountains of western Arizona. 

Bodie Hills, California

Always on our #roadtrip #bucketlist! California’s Eastern Sierra region is a dramatic transition zone between the snow-capped granite spires of the Sierra Nevada and the endless sagebrush covered uplands of the Great Basin. A trip at the right time of year will reward visitors with a diversity of wildflowers.

One great wildflower viewing area is just north of Mono Lake and east of Yosemite National Park in the rolling Bodie Hills – hills being an understatement since they top out at over 10,000 feet! Because of their high elevation, wildflower blooms are later here than much of California – typically arriving in May-June on the lower slopes and into July on the highest peaks. Several back roads traverse the area and offer access to view the displays of phlox, penstemon and paintbrush to name a few of the many wildflower species. More than 100,000 acres of BLM lands cover most of the Bodie Hills and include several wilderness study areas.

Bodie State Historic Park is the best-preserved ghost town in California, and arguably in the United States. Wildlife viewers can see antelope, mule deer, and if lucky, get a glimpse of a sage grouse. If you visit later, around early October, crisp clear nights will turn the scattered aspen stands to gold, giving a second opportunity to see Bodie Hills in color.

Alpine Loop National Backcountry Byway, Colorado

A #roadtrip to the #AlpineLoop should be on your #bucketlist for 2018! Located northeast of Silverton, Colorado in San Juan and Hinsdale counties, the Alpine Loop Back Country Byway is a premiere visitor destination. The epic scenery draws off-highway-vehicle enthusiasts across the country who are treated with a network of roads that climb above the timberline, accessing unparalleled vistas in an alpine environment. The hiking, biking and camping in the area is also fantastic. Scattered along the Alpine loop are remnants of our nation’s frontier history, where visitors can learn about the bustling mining towns that once thrived here. 

While many roads are accessible by regular, two-wheel drive vehicles, getting into the alpine areas require high-clearance, four wheel drive vehicles. Plan your trip accordingly.

Washington-Rochambeau Revolutionary Route National Historic Trail, Virginia

Journey through early American history and walk in the footsteps of our nation’s founding fathers as you explore the Washington-Rochambeau Revolutionary Route. This National Historic Trail commemorates over 680 miles of land and water trails followed by the allied armies of General George Washington and the French Lieutenant General Comte Jean de Rochambeau. During their 1781 march from Newport, Rhode Island to Yorktown, Virginia, the French army established an encampment on what is now the Meadowood Special Recreation Management Area (SRMA). A segment of this trail connects with a BLM system of trails crossing the SRMA on the historic Mason Neck Peninsula, just a short drive from the nation’s capital. At Meadowood, the trail transects open meadows, enters into mature hardwood forests, and crosses riparian wetlands. While in the area, visit Gunston Hall, the home of Founding Father George Mason, a strong supporter of individual liberties and the author of the Virginia Declaration of Rights. Many of the concepts in that document found embodiment in the first ten amendments to the U.S. Constitution, the Bill of Rights.

Lewis and Clark Backcountry Byway, Idaho

The Lewis and Clark Backcountry Byway and Adventure Road is a 36-mile loop drive through a beautiful and historic landscape following the Lewis and Clark National Historic Trail and the Continental Divide National Scenic Trail. Experience incredible views of the Lemhi Valley and the surrounding mountain ranges; truly some of the finest scenery in America!

The mountains, evergreen forests, high desert canyons and grassy foothills look much the same today as when the Lewis and Clark Expedition passed through in 1805. Take a slow and meandering journey along this drive with time to stop along the way for hiking, fishing, mountain biking and exploration. With a 4,000 foot gain and loss in elevation, expect some steep grades too.

Lemhi Pass is well-known for its wildflower displays in the spring and summer. Captain Lewis collected three new plant species in this area: mountain maple, common snowberry and Lewis’s monkey flower. You might see elk, mule and whitetail deer, black bear, moose, pronghorn antelope, coyotes and many smaller mammal species. Early mornings and evenings are the times to look for wildlife, particularly where the forest and meadow meet.

By late September, shorter days and cooler temperatures release hues of red, yellow, and gold in aspens, cottonwoods, willows and shrubs. Don’t miss Agency Creek in October – it’s beautiful!  Download a visitor guide for your roadtrip from our website.

Big Sky Byway, Montana

The 105-mile Big Sky Back Country Byway begins in Terry, MT, and travels north and south covering badlands and rolling prairies. The byway ends in Wolf Point, MT, on the beautiful Missouri River, part of the Lewis and Clark National Historic Trail. The route is part of the National Scenic Byways Program, linking Terry with Wolf Point. Taking 2 hours one way, you can stop to take a look at the information kiosks in Terry, Circle, and Wolf Point, which describe byway attributes, local history, and culture. Visitors can enjoy the scenic badlands of eastern Montana year round from this all-weather road.

Lunar Crater Backcountry Byway, Nevada

The scenic loop (the Lunar Crater Back Country Byway) passes by the crater with a stopping point near the crater where visitors can get out to view the impressive volcanic feature. Vehicles are limited to existing roads and trails.

Lake Valley Backcountry Byway, New Mexico

A meandering 48-mile drive on paved roads takes visitors through ranching and mining country and past the ruins of the 1880s mining town of Lake Valley. The Lake Valley Backcountry Byway is nestled between the Mimbres and Caballo Mountains and the Cooke's Range in southwestern New Mexico and offers spectacular scenic views. Rich in history and scenery, the Byway offers an outstanding trip for travelers with an hour to spare.

Steens Mountain, Oregon

How about this for a scenic byway: Glacier-carved gorges, pristine alpine lakes and wild and scenic rivers, all accessible via the highest elevation road in Oregon!

Come take a drive on the 52-mile-long Steens Mountain Backcountry Byway! There are four campgrounds along the byway for those wanting to stay a little bit longer in one of the most remote places in the U.S.!

Photo/video: https://goo.gl/VOkTFg

San Rafael Swell, Utah

Make the most of your road-trip to Moab or the Skyline Drive! Take the scenic route through the San Rafael Swell.  Emery County Road 332 is a gravel road that connects approximately 45 miles between Huntington, Utah to Interstate 70 in the heart of the San Rafael Swell. Enjoy the amazing desert scenery, stop at the wedge overlook for a view of the “Little Grand Canyon,” view the ancient rock art of the Buckhorn Draw Panel, and maybe even take a side trip to the Cleveland-Lloyd Dinosaur Quarry. While there is primitive-style camping in the area, there are no other services. Come prepared with everything you need, and take home everything you bring. Flat tires are common.

Red Gulch/Alkali National Backcountry Byway, Wyoming

The Red Gulch/Alkali National Backcountry Byway is a 32-mile scenic drive on improved gravel and dirt roads through the foothills of the Bighorn Mountains. Near each of the two entrances to this historic route you will see a National Backcountry Byway kiosk which provides historical information about the byway as well as road conditions. The steep, rugged canyons cut into the mountains along the byway and offer many challenging and interesting hiking opportunities. Among the wondrous sights you may see are hoodoos. These strange, artistic rock formations were carved over the centuries by Wyoming’s wind.

[zodiacdemystified]

Part 1: The Murders

Although the Zodiac claimed to have committed 37 murders in letters to Bay Area newspapers, investigators agree on only seven confirmed victims, two of whom survived. I’m going to first break down the seven confirmed victims and what happened to each so that we have a basic understanding of what the police and new papers were investigating.

Lake Herman Road Murders

Where: Lake Herman Road within the city limits of Benicia, California

When: December 20, 1968

Victims: Betty Lou Jensen (killed) and David Faraday (survived); high school students

Details: The couple were on their first date and planned to attend a Christmas concert at Hogan High School, about three blocks from Jensen's home. The couple instead visited a friend before eating at a local restaurant and then drove out on Lake Herman Road. At about 10:15 p.m., Faraday parked his mother's Rambler in a gravel turnout, which was a well-known lovers' lane. However, this area is remote and could have only been known as a lover’s spot by someone who was familiar with the area of Benicia.

It is postulated that another car pulled into the turnout, just prior to 11:00 pm and parked to the right the couple. The killer apparently exited the second car and walked toward the Rambler, possibly ordering the couple out of the Rambler (it is suspected that a warning shot was fired into the right rear window of the vehicle). Jensen appeared to have exited the car first, yet when Faraday was halfway out, the killer apparently shot him in the head. The killer then shot Jensen five times in the back as she fled; her body was found 28 feet from the car. Shortly after 11:00 p.m., their bodies were found by Stella Borges, who lived nearby.

Zodiac Confirmation: On August 1, 1969, about a month after the Zodiac’s next attack, three letters prepared by the killer were received at the Vallejo Times Herald, the San Francisco Chronicle, and The San Francisco Examiner. The nearly identical letters took credit for the shootings at Lake Herman Road and Blue Rock Springs. We’ll dive into the details of the letters later on, but the author of these letters was believed to be the murderer and attempted murderer of Betty Lou Jensen and David Faraday (respectively) because the letters contained information about the murders that only the murderer could have known.

Betty Lou Jensen and David Faraday:

Crime Scene Photo:

Crime Scene Diagram:

Blue Rock Springs Murder

Where: Blue Rock Springs Park in Vallejo, California

When: Just before midnight on July 4, 1969

Victims: Michael Renault Mageau, 19 (survived), and Darlene Elizabeth Ferrin, 22 (killed)

Details: Darlene Ferrin and Michael Mageau drove into the Blue Rock Springs Park in Vallejo, four miles (6.4 km) from the Lake Herman Road murder site, and parked. While the couple sat in Ferrin's car, a second car drove into the lot and parked alongside them but almost immediately drove away. Returning about 10 minutes later, this second car parked behind them. The driver of the second car then exited the vehicle, approaching the passenger side door of Ferrin's car, carrying a flashlight and a 9 mm Luger. The killer directed the flashlight into Mageau's and Ferrin's eyes before shooting at them, firing five times. Both victims were hit, and several bullets had passed through Mageau and into Ferrin. The killer walked away from the car but upon hearing Mageau's moaning, returned and shot each victim twice more before driving off.

Zodiac: On July 5, 1969, at 12:40 a.m., a man phoned the Vallejo Police Department to report and claim responsibility for the attack. The caller also took credit for the murders of Jensen and Faraday six and a half months earlier. Police traced the call to a phone booth at a gas station at Springs Road and Tuolumne, located about three-tenths of a mile (500 m) from Ferrin's home and only a few blocks from the Vallejo Police Department. Ferrin was pronounced dead at the hospital. Mageau survived the attack despite being shot in the face, neck and chest.

As stated, on August 1, 1969, three letters prepared by the killer were received at the Vallejo Times Herald, the San Francisco Chronicle, and The San Francisco Examiner. Each letter also included one-third of a cryptogram (a type of puzzle that consists of a short piece of encrypted text) which the killer claimed contained his identity. The killer demanded they be printed on each paper's front page or he would "cruse around all weekend killing lone people in the night then move on to kill again, until I end up with a dozen people over the weekend."

The Chronicle published its third of the cryptogram on page four of the next day's edition. An article printed alongside the code quoted Vallejo Police Chief Jack E. Stiltz as saying "We're not satisfied that the letter was written by the murderer" and requested the writer send a second letter with more facts to prove his identity. The threatened murders did not happen, and all three parts were eventually published.

On August 7, 1969, another letter was received at The San Francisco Examiner with the salutation "Dear Editor This is the Zodiac speaking." This was the first time the killer had used this name for identification. The letter was a response to Chief Stiltz's request for more details that would prove he had killed Faraday, Jensen and Ferrin. In it, the Zodiac included details about the murders which had not yet been released to the public, as well as a message to the police that when they cracked his code "they will have me."

Darlene Ferrin and Michael Mageau:

Crime Scene Diagram:

Lake Berryessa Murder

Bryan Calvin Hartnell, 20, and Cecelia Ann Shepard, 22: stabbed on September 27, 1969, at Lake Berryessa in Napa County. Hartnell survived eight stab wounds to the back, but Shepard died as a result of her injuries on September 29, 1969.

Where: Lake Berryessa in Napa County, California

When: September 27, 1969 (a little over a month after the last Zodiac letter)

Victims: Bryan Calvin Hartnell (survived), 20, and Cecelia Ann Shepard (killed), 22; college students

Details: Two Pacific Union College students Bryan Hartnell and Cecelia Shepard were picnicking at Lake Berryessa on a small island connected by a sand spit to Twin Oak Ridge. A man in a black hood approached them with a gun, which Hartnell believed to be a .45. The hooded man claimed to be an escaped convict from a jail where he had killed a guard and subsequently stolen a car, explaining that he now needed their car and money to go to Mexico, as the vehicle he had been driving was "too hot". The man had brought precut lengths of plastic clothesline and told Shepard to tie up Hartnell. The killer checked the ties, and tightened Hartnell's bonds after discovering Shepard had bound Hartnell's hands loosely. Hartnell initially believed this event to be a bizarre robbery, but the man drew a knife and stabbed them both repeatedly, Hartnell suffering six and Shepard ten wounds in the process. The killer then hiked 500 yards back up to Knoxville Road, drew the cross-circle symbol on Hartnell's car door with a black felt-tip pen. After hearing their screams for help, a man and his son who were fishing in a nearby cove discovered the victims and summoned help by contacting park rangers. 

Napa County Sheriff's deputies Dave Collins and Ray Land were the first law enforcement officers to arrive at the crime scene. Cecelia Shepard was conscious when Collins arrived, providing him with a detailed description of the attacker. Hartnell and Shepard were taken to Queen of the Valley Hospital in Napa by ambulance. Shepard lapsed into a coma during transport to the hospital and never regained consciousness. She died two days later, but Hartnell survived to recount his tale to the press.

Zodiac: At 7:40 p.m., the killer called the Napa County Sheriff's office from a pay telephone to report this latest crime. The caller first stated to the operator that he wished to "report a murder - no, a double murder," before stating that he had been the perpetrator of the crime. The phone was found, still off the hook, minutes later at the Napa Car Wash on Main Street in Napa by KVON radio reporter Pat Stanley, only a few blocks from the sheriff's office, yet 27 miles from the crime scene. Detectives were able to lift a still-wet palm print from the telephone.

Bryan Hartnell and Cecelia Shepard:

Crime Scene Diagrams:

Note Left by Zodiac on victim’s car door:

Presidio Heights Murder

Where: Cross section of Washington and Cherry Streets in the Presidio Heights neighborhood of San Francisco.

When: October 11, 1969, around 10pm

Victim: Paul Lee Stine; Cab Driver

Details: On October 11, 1969, a white male passenger entered the cab driven by Paul Stine at the intersection of Mason and Geary Streets (one block west from Union Square) in San Francisco requesting to be taken to Washington and Maple Streets in Presidio Heights. For reasons unknown, Stine drove one block past Maple to Cherry Street; the passenger then shot Stine once in the head with a 9mm, took Stine's wallet and car keys, and tore away a section of Stine's bloodstained shirt tail. 

This passenger was observed by three teenagers across the street at 9:55 p.m., who called the police while the crime was in progress. They observed a man wiping the cab down before walking away towards the Presidio, one block to the north.

Two blocks from the crime scene, patrol officer Don Fouke and Eric Zelms, responding to the call, observed a white man walking along the sidewalk east on Jackson Street and stepping onto a stairway leading up to the front yard of one of the homes on the north side of the street; the encounter lasted only five to ten seconds. The police radio dispatcher had however initially alerted officers to be on the lookout for a black suspect, so Fouke and Zelms drove past him without stopping. 

This was the last officially confirmed murder by the Zodiac Killer.

Zodiac: On October 13, the San Francisco Chronicle received a new letter from Zodiac containing a piece of bloody shirt and taking credit for the killing.

Paul Lee Stine:

Crime Scene Photo:

San Francisco Chronicle: