By Joann M. Ringelstetter
In April, 2013, on our way to photograph for a week in Ohio, we stopped in the small town of Markleville, Indiana. Unfortunately, the vintage advertising sign we had hoped to capture was gone, but then I saw a big Coca Cola sign on a building down the street. So I walked down to it and discovered Sam’s Soda Fountain Café.
I set up my tripod across the street and took a picture of the café. And then a man in a red pickup truck pulled up and parked in front of the soda fountain. He got out of the truck and grabbed his guitar case from the back. I thought maybe there was going to be live music at the soda fountain that afternoon, but the man walked right past the soda fountain and entered the barber shop next door. I figured he was in need of a haircut before performing.
With the truck parked in front of the soda fountain building, I turned my attention to McKinley’s Barber Shop. It had an old-fashioned barber pole out front, which is a nice vintage item to find. As I snapped a photo of the barber pole, the owner of the barber shop, Richard McKinley, came out and started up a conversation. When I told him that I liked photographing old things, like the barber pole, he said, “Well, if you like old stuff, you have to come in here.”
I followed Richard into the barber shop and was immediately hit with the sound of old-fashioned country music. Over in the corner sat two older gentlemen, each with a guitar. A man sitting in a chair by the window of this very small barber shop whispered to me, “They do this every week.”
As I stood enjoying the music, Richard pointed out his antique barber chair from the 1940s. When I asked him if I could take a picture of it, he said, “Let me straighten it up first.” He folded the towel hanging off the side of it, straightened out the footrest, and then stepped aside to let me photograph it. I thanked him for his kindness. If you look closely, you will see him reflected in the mirror in the upper left corner of the photo below.
Then I turned back to the musicians, who were pickin’ and grinnin’ and having such a good time. I asked them their names and the man on the left said his name was Harold. After some good old-fashioned country humor, the man on the right said his name was Ray. I thanked them for the entertainment and then left this wonderful small-town barber shop.
Before heading back to the car, I decided to check out the soda fountain which, I discovered, had not officially opened yet. But the owner, Sam, was there working on getting it ready for the grand opening, so he let me look around inside. He was creating the look of a 1950s-era soda fountain and café. There was still a lot of work to do, but all the fountain glasses were on the shelf behind the semi-finished counter, along with a sign that said, “No spitting.”
After assuring Sam that I would do no spitting, I took a few photos of the glasses and wished him good luck with his soda fountain business. I left Markleville that day with a smile on my face and a song in my heart. Thanks, Markleville, for making my visit so enjoyable!
Happy Shunpiking!
Joann
Photos in this blog post can be purchased as wall art, paper prints, downloads, phone cases, and keepsakes by clicking on the photo. You will be taken to the gallery website where you will see a big blue "BUY" button. Or to see all photos available, click on the "Browse Galleries" button on the menu at the top of this page. Thank you for your interest!
Shunpiking To Heaven Backroads Blog
Showing posts with label Indiana. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Indiana. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 18, 2019
Thursday, May 17, 2018
Learnin’ and Dancin’ in Raleigh, Indiana
By Joann M. Ringelstetter
In April, 2013, Ruth and I passed through Rush County, Indiana on our way to photograph for several days in the beautiful state of Ohio. Our goal in crossing this county was to visit the ruins of Raleigh School.
Known as Washington Township School, its life began in 1877 as a red brick, three-room grade school. At first, there were only two teachers for 140 students in these three rooms. Some of the children traveled to school on horseback, so there was also a barn where their horses could be kept while they attended school.
William S. Hall, Trustee of Washington Township, had come up with the plan to consolidate several one-room schools into Raleigh School, which is known as the first consolidated school in the nation. On the lawn, in front of what was left of the school, sat a boulder with a bronze plaque mounted on it. The plaque read: This marks the site of the First Consolidated School in Indiana. Established 1876 by William S. Hall, Trustee of Washington Township. "Our school was the first, make it the best." Erected by Tuesday Study Club, 1927.
In 1906, the original building was replaced with a yellow brick high school building, which operated until 1955, followed by a few years of serving grades one through six. In 1968, the school was closed. Two years later, it was sold to a local farmer, with the provision that it be torn down. For some reason, it wasn’t completely destroyed. Still standing is the entrance and the belltower.
After photographing the school ruins, we drove towards the small crossroads town of Raleigh. At the edge of town, just down the road from the school, a man was mowing his lawn, so we stopped to talk with him. He told me his name was Luther, he was 78 years old, and his wife had attended Raleigh School. He also said that there was an upcoming Raleigh School reunion to be held at the dance hall in Raleigh. And then he explained how the dance hall, built in 1947, came to be.
After the end of World War II, when the people of Raleigh were getting back to their lives, they were reminiscing about how they used to roll up the rug in someone’s living room, turn on some music, and dance. Marion Miller, owner of the only service station in Raleigh, suggested that they hold a dance at the service station. They could dance on the concrete around the pumps.
They rounded up a piano, which was played by local pianist Mildred Miller, along with a couple of guitar players and square dance caller Donald Clausen. They danced that Saturday night away beneath the lights of the gas station and continued to hold dances there every Saturday night until it got too cold to dance outside.
Then they started making plans to raise the money to purchase a lot and building materials for a dance hall. They bought almost 700 bags of cement and close to 90 men worked together to mix the cement, pour the concrete floor, and lay the concrete blocks to complete the building. The men volunteered their time after work and on weekends. The women fixed meals to feed the hungry men. In 1973, they installed a hardwood floor, which was surely easier on the legs and feet.
The hardwood floor is still in use and dances are held there on Saturday nights. After we finished talking to Luther and were getting ready to leave, Luther’s wife came over to the car and reminded us that it was Saturday and there would be a dance that night. She urged us to stay for the dance, but we had places to go and photographs to capture. So, we told her to have a good time and we headed out of town, but not before we captured a couple of photos of their wonderful dance hall.
Happy Shunpiking!
Joann
Photos in this blog post can be purchased as wall art, paper prints, downloads, phone cases, and keepsakes by clicking on the photo. You will be taken to the gallery website where you will see a big blue "BUY" button. Or to see all photos available, click on the "Browse Galleries" button on the menu at the top of this page. Thank you for your interest!
In April, 2013, Ruth and I passed through Rush County, Indiana on our way to photograph for several days in the beautiful state of Ohio. Our goal in crossing this county was to visit the ruins of Raleigh School.
Known as Washington Township School, its life began in 1877 as a red brick, three-room grade school. At first, there were only two teachers for 140 students in these three rooms. Some of the children traveled to school on horseback, so there was also a barn where their horses could be kept while they attended school.
William S. Hall, Trustee of Washington Township, had come up with the plan to consolidate several one-room schools into Raleigh School, which is known as the first consolidated school in the nation. On the lawn, in front of what was left of the school, sat a boulder with a bronze plaque mounted on it. The plaque read: This marks the site of the First Consolidated School in Indiana. Established 1876 by William S. Hall, Trustee of Washington Township. "Our school was the first, make it the best." Erected by Tuesday Study Club, 1927.
In 1906, the original building was replaced with a yellow brick high school building, which operated until 1955, followed by a few years of serving grades one through six. In 1968, the school was closed. Two years later, it was sold to a local farmer, with the provision that it be torn down. For some reason, it wasn’t completely destroyed. Still standing is the entrance and the belltower.
After photographing the school ruins, we drove towards the small crossroads town of Raleigh. At the edge of town, just down the road from the school, a man was mowing his lawn, so we stopped to talk with him. He told me his name was Luther, he was 78 years old, and his wife had attended Raleigh School. He also said that there was an upcoming Raleigh School reunion to be held at the dance hall in Raleigh. And then he explained how the dance hall, built in 1947, came to be.
After the end of World War II, when the people of Raleigh were getting back to their lives, they were reminiscing about how they used to roll up the rug in someone’s living room, turn on some music, and dance. Marion Miller, owner of the only service station in Raleigh, suggested that they hold a dance at the service station. They could dance on the concrete around the pumps.
They rounded up a piano, which was played by local pianist Mildred Miller, along with a couple of guitar players and square dance caller Donald Clausen. They danced that Saturday night away beneath the lights of the gas station and continued to hold dances there every Saturday night until it got too cold to dance outside.
Then they started making plans to raise the money to purchase a lot and building materials for a dance hall. They bought almost 700 bags of cement and close to 90 men worked together to mix the cement, pour the concrete floor, and lay the concrete blocks to complete the building. The men volunteered their time after work and on weekends. The women fixed meals to feed the hungry men. In 1973, they installed a hardwood floor, which was surely easier on the legs and feet.
The hardwood floor is still in use and dances are held there on Saturday nights. After we finished talking to Luther and were getting ready to leave, Luther’s wife came over to the car and reminded us that it was Saturday and there would be a dance that night. She urged us to stay for the dance, but we had places to go and photographs to capture. So, we told her to have a good time and we headed out of town, but not before we captured a couple of photos of their wonderful dance hall.
Happy Shunpiking!
Joann
Photos in this blog post can be purchased as wall art, paper prints, downloads, phone cases, and keepsakes by clicking on the photo. You will be taken to the gallery website where you will see a big blue "BUY" button. Or to see all photos available, click on the "Browse Galleries" button on the menu at the top of this page. Thank you for your interest!
Sunday, April 1, 2018
Joann Lays an Easter Egg
By Joann M. Ringelstetter
Photos in this blog post can be purchased as wall art, paper prints, downloads, phone cases, and keepsakes. Just click on the desired photo and look for the blue “BUY” button.
On Saturday, April 19, 2014, the day before Easter Sunday, Ruth and I left home around 4:30 a.m. on a 9-day photography trip to the beautiful state of Kentucky. This means that we had both gotten out of bed at 2:00 a.m. in order to do last minute packing and food preparation, and for me to finish loading the car, then drive to Ruth’s where we would add her clothes, tons of research materials, and the food she had prepared. As we added her stuff, we had to reorganize the large cargo area, which had to be strategically packed to fit everything in for nine days on the road.
As I began to write this blog post, Ruth and I discussed the insanity of rising that early to get on the road. We were asking ourselves, “What were we thinking?!” But as we reviewed the photos from that day, we realized that we were on a mission to get to Moonshine, in southern Illinois, locally described as "a wide spot in the road" with a population of 2. For years, the only building in town was an old general store that was built around 1912 (if you don’t count the outhouse and storage sheds, that is). The Moonshine Store is famous for its Moonburger and other grilled sandwiches and the grill is shut off promptly at 12:30. After enjoying a delicious meal there, we headed towards Indiana.
It was 6:30 p.m. by the time we had photographed our way to the Indiana border. Well, actually, it was 7:30 p.m. because, at that point, we left the Central Time Zone and entered the Eastern Time Zone. But we forgot about the time change at first, which would cause an even later arrival at our motel than we were already afraid to admit.
Our first stop in Indiana was the city of Vincennes, which hugs the Wabash River running between the two states. It’s the oldest city in Indiana and is rich in architecture. When we pass through cities like this, we always look for old ghosted advertising signs, which are often on the sides of brick buildings. In this case, we located a very large sign for Holsum Bread, with a Coca Cola sign superimposed on it.
We left Vincennes around 9:00 p.m. and still had quite a ways to drive before getting to the motel in Mitchell, Indiana, where we had made a reservation. It was a small mom and pop motel with outside doors, which is our preference. And it was only a few minutes from Spring Mill State Park, which would be our starting point the next day at dawn. On the way, we talked with excitement about all the things we planned to photograph at the park. One of the subjects was the restored pioneer settlement there.
Another was the Hamer Cemetery, a pioneer cemetery located within the park. The land for this cemetery was set aside in 1832 by Colonel Hugh Hamer and his brother, Thomas, who were the owners of the village and its grist mill. According to the park service, the cemetery began out of immediate need when a traveler died in the night near this location. Hugh Hamer instructed his carpenters to build a coffin and bury the man in the woods. He later deeded the area including the grave to serve as a cemetery.
The Hamer Grist Mill is one of the largest mills in southern Indiana. It operated from 1817 until 1892. During that time, local farmers brought their corn to the mill for grinding. In exchange for this service, the Hamer brothers kept a portion of the corn for use in their distillery, which produced Old Hamer Whiskey.
We usually let the motel owners know that we often arrive late, but we decided we’d better make another courtesy call to inform them that it would be REALLY late this time. It was around 10:30 p.m. when we checked in, so we unloaded everything from the car, had a quick bite to eat, and fell into bed knowing that we would still be tired when the alarm went off at 5:00 a.m.
That night, a spring storm passed through the area and it rained heavily for a while. When we got up on Easter morning, we were happy to see that the storm had moved on and we would be able to photograph at first light in Spring Mill State Park. We planned to start at Spring Mill Inn, which was built in 1939. That year, the cost of the most expensive room, which included three meals, was $7.50 a day and admission to the park was 10 cents per person.
We got ourselves ready for the day and then I went out to the car to start loading my camera equipment and all the other stuff we had dragged into the room. As I unlocked the doors, I realized that when we pulled up to our motel room and unloaded the car after such a long and tiring day, I had left the car windows open. Talk about a sinking feeling, knowing how long it had rained during the night. I opened the driver’s door and looked at the drenched seats and wet floor. And the research materials that Ruth had left on her seat were a sopping mess.
Luckily, nothing else got ruined because we had taken most of our possessions into the room with us. We grabbed some towels from the motel and started sopping up the water. Luckily, my car has leather seats, so they could be dried off to a certain extent. We always try to be at our first location at first light in order to take advantage of the beautiful dawn light before the sun comes up, so we knew we had to hurry with this cleanup effort. After drying things off as much as we could without wasting too much time, we quickly transferred everything back into the car and, after laying the motel room key on the desk, I slammed the door shut and we were off.
But WAIT! Where was my tripod? Oh, no! In my hurry to hit the road and be in the park by first light, I had accidentally left my tripod leaning in the corner of the motel room. What to do? We could go to the park without it and come back in a couple of hours to retrieve it, but it’s an expensive piece of equipment. And it’s necessary in order to take pictures before the sun is up. After some deliberation, I got up the courage to ring the bell at the motel office, knowing that I would be waking up the poor owner in the pre-dawn of Easter morning. Shameful, wouldn’t you say?
The owner was a lovely woman, who responded to the bell in her pajamas with her eyes half closed. She let me back into the room while I thanked her and profusely apologized for my absent-mindedness. As the title says, I laid an egg on that Easter weekend in 2014.
Today is Easter Sunday, but it’s also April Fools Day. So, what do you think? Is any of this true?
I’d like to tell you that I made it all up, but that would be a lie. I did make up the part about it raining all night and the car getting flooded, so I may have fooled you on that. But, unfortunately, the part about our 21-hour day is true. The part about leaving the windows open all night is true (it just happened on a different trip). The part about slamming the motel room door with the key left inside and then realizing that my tripod was still in there is true. And, worst of all, the part about dragging the motel owner out of bed at 6:00 a.m. on Easter morning to open the motel room door in her pajamas is also true.
In case you’re wondering, we did make it to the park in time to capture this dawn view of the restored flume, which carries the water from Hamer's cave to the mill.
Happy Easter, everybody, and Happy Shunpiking!
Joann
Photos in this blog post can be purchased as wall art, paper prints, downloads, phone cases, and keepsakes by clicking on the photo. You will be taken to the gallery website where you will see a big blue "BUY" button. Or to see all photos available, click on the "Browse Galleries" button on the menu at the top of this page. Thank you for your interest!
Photos in this blog post can be purchased as wall art, paper prints, downloads, phone cases, and keepsakes. Just click on the desired photo and look for the blue “BUY” button.
On Saturday, April 19, 2014, the day before Easter Sunday, Ruth and I left home around 4:30 a.m. on a 9-day photography trip to the beautiful state of Kentucky. This means that we had both gotten out of bed at 2:00 a.m. in order to do last minute packing and food preparation, and for me to finish loading the car, then drive to Ruth’s where we would add her clothes, tons of research materials, and the food she had prepared. As we added her stuff, we had to reorganize the large cargo area, which had to be strategically packed to fit everything in for nine days on the road.
As I began to write this blog post, Ruth and I discussed the insanity of rising that early to get on the road. We were asking ourselves, “What were we thinking?!” But as we reviewed the photos from that day, we realized that we were on a mission to get to Moonshine, in southern Illinois, locally described as "a wide spot in the road" with a population of 2. For years, the only building in town was an old general store that was built around 1912 (if you don’t count the outhouse and storage sheds, that is). The Moonshine Store is famous for its Moonburger and other grilled sandwiches and the grill is shut off promptly at 12:30. After enjoying a delicious meal there, we headed towards Indiana.
It was 6:30 p.m. by the time we had photographed our way to the Indiana border. Well, actually, it was 7:30 p.m. because, at that point, we left the Central Time Zone and entered the Eastern Time Zone. But we forgot about the time change at first, which would cause an even later arrival at our motel than we were already afraid to admit.
Our first stop in Indiana was the city of Vincennes, which hugs the Wabash River running between the two states. It’s the oldest city in Indiana and is rich in architecture. When we pass through cities like this, we always look for old ghosted advertising signs, which are often on the sides of brick buildings. In this case, we located a very large sign for Holsum Bread, with a Coca Cola sign superimposed on it.
We left Vincennes around 9:00 p.m. and still had quite a ways to drive before getting to the motel in Mitchell, Indiana, where we had made a reservation. It was a small mom and pop motel with outside doors, which is our preference. And it was only a few minutes from Spring Mill State Park, which would be our starting point the next day at dawn. On the way, we talked with excitement about all the things we planned to photograph at the park. One of the subjects was the restored pioneer settlement there.
Another was the Hamer Cemetery, a pioneer cemetery located within the park. The land for this cemetery was set aside in 1832 by Colonel Hugh Hamer and his brother, Thomas, who were the owners of the village and its grist mill. According to the park service, the cemetery began out of immediate need when a traveler died in the night near this location. Hugh Hamer instructed his carpenters to build a coffin and bury the man in the woods. He later deeded the area including the grave to serve as a cemetery.
The Hamer Grist Mill is one of the largest mills in southern Indiana. It operated from 1817 until 1892. During that time, local farmers brought their corn to the mill for grinding. In exchange for this service, the Hamer brothers kept a portion of the corn for use in their distillery, which produced Old Hamer Whiskey.
We usually let the motel owners know that we often arrive late, but we decided we’d better make another courtesy call to inform them that it would be REALLY late this time. It was around 10:30 p.m. when we checked in, so we unloaded everything from the car, had a quick bite to eat, and fell into bed knowing that we would still be tired when the alarm went off at 5:00 a.m.
That night, a spring storm passed through the area and it rained heavily for a while. When we got up on Easter morning, we were happy to see that the storm had moved on and we would be able to photograph at first light in Spring Mill State Park. We planned to start at Spring Mill Inn, which was built in 1939. That year, the cost of the most expensive room, which included three meals, was $7.50 a day and admission to the park was 10 cents per person.
We got ourselves ready for the day and then I went out to the car to start loading my camera equipment and all the other stuff we had dragged into the room. As I unlocked the doors, I realized that when we pulled up to our motel room and unloaded the car after such a long and tiring day, I had left the car windows open. Talk about a sinking feeling, knowing how long it had rained during the night. I opened the driver’s door and looked at the drenched seats and wet floor. And the research materials that Ruth had left on her seat were a sopping mess.
Luckily, nothing else got ruined because we had taken most of our possessions into the room with us. We grabbed some towels from the motel and started sopping up the water. Luckily, my car has leather seats, so they could be dried off to a certain extent. We always try to be at our first location at first light in order to take advantage of the beautiful dawn light before the sun comes up, so we knew we had to hurry with this cleanup effort. After drying things off as much as we could without wasting too much time, we quickly transferred everything back into the car and, after laying the motel room key on the desk, I slammed the door shut and we were off.
But WAIT! Where was my tripod? Oh, no! In my hurry to hit the road and be in the park by first light, I had accidentally left my tripod leaning in the corner of the motel room. What to do? We could go to the park without it and come back in a couple of hours to retrieve it, but it’s an expensive piece of equipment. And it’s necessary in order to take pictures before the sun is up. After some deliberation, I got up the courage to ring the bell at the motel office, knowing that I would be waking up the poor owner in the pre-dawn of Easter morning. Shameful, wouldn’t you say?
The owner was a lovely woman, who responded to the bell in her pajamas with her eyes half closed. She let me back into the room while I thanked her and profusely apologized for my absent-mindedness. As the title says, I laid an egg on that Easter weekend in 2014.
Today is Easter Sunday, but it’s also April Fools Day. So, what do you think? Is any of this true?
I’d like to tell you that I made it all up, but that would be a lie. I did make up the part about it raining all night and the car getting flooded, so I may have fooled you on that. But, unfortunately, the part about our 21-hour day is true. The part about leaving the windows open all night is true (it just happened on a different trip). The part about slamming the motel room door with the key left inside and then realizing that my tripod was still in there is true. And, worst of all, the part about dragging the motel owner out of bed at 6:00 a.m. on Easter morning to open the motel room door in her pajamas is also true.
In case you’re wondering, we did make it to the park in time to capture this dawn view of the restored flume, which carries the water from Hamer's cave to the mill.
Happy Easter, everybody, and Happy Shunpiking!
Joann
Photos in this blog post can be purchased as wall art, paper prints, downloads, phone cases, and keepsakes by clicking on the photo. You will be taken to the gallery website where you will see a big blue "BUY" button. Or to see all photos available, click on the "Browse Galleries" button on the menu at the top of this page. Thank you for your interest!
Saturday, March 24, 2018
Maple Syrup Time
By Joann M. Ringelstetter
Photos in this blog post can be purchased as wall art, paper prints, downloads, phone cases, and keepsakes. Just click on the desired photo and look for the blue “BUY” button.
In April, 2010, on Day One of a 13-day photography trip to North Carolina, one of our first stops was Deep River County Park near Hobart, Indiana. Our main reason for visiting this park was to see and capture a few images of the historic John Wood's Grist Mill. While exploring the park, we discovered the Deep River Sugar Shack, where park staff host Maple Syrup Time, an annual demonstration of how sap is collected and turned into maple syrup.
For probably ten years prior to that discovery, Ruth and I had been discussing that we should try to get out in late winter to photograph the maple sugaring process. We knew we could go to an annual event like the one held at Deep River, but our preference is to capture scenes away from the crowds and in the natural habitat. What we really wanted to find were the old-fashioned metal sap buckets, rather than the newer tubing that has replaced the buckets, but we didn’t really know where to look on the backroads to find this.
In October of that same year, we went looking for fall color on the backroads of Monroe County, Wisconsin. Early in the morning, as the sun began to warm the day, we stumbled on what looked like a dilapidated sugar house near the driveway of an Amish farm. We could see some family members in the yard, so we pulled in and asked them if it was a sugar house. They confirmed that it was and kindly allowed us to take some photos of it.
Again, this generated a discussion about how we should remember to go in search of tapped maple trees towards the end of the upcoming winter. But time, even in the long, seemingly endless winters of Wisconsin, has a way of slipping by for us and soon we realize that we’ve once again missed the rather short maple sugaring season.
Another five years passed before we discovered two more sugar shacks in Wisconsin, in the autumn of 2015. Well, actually, there were three. In early October, we were in an Amish area of Vernon County and noticed a new sugar shack built in front of an old sugar shack. Later that month, we decided to visit the Richfield Historical Park in Washington County. This park is home to many historic buildings which have been restored and are maintained by the Richfield Historical Society.
We hadn’t visited this park since February of 2008, and the snow-covered roads within the park weren’t plowed at that time, so we only took photos of the 1871 Messer/Mayer Grist Mill. In October of 2015, we thoroughly explored the park and were pleasantly surprised to find a beautiful red sugar shack, which was built in 2005 by a Boy Scout as a project to earn his Eagle Scout status. Again, here we were at a sugar house, but in the off-season. But I did peer through the window and saw what I think was probably a maple syrup grading kit on the table.
On March 9 of this year, after getting a little snow cover during a winter of low snowfall, we decided to do some photography in the Amish area in Columbia County. The day was full of many blessings. Early in the day, as the Amish children were arriving at school, some walking, some driving their own buggies, we discovered several very large maple trees that had been tapped for maple sap collection. Hanging below the taps were large plastic pails. They weren’t the old-fashioned buckets we were hoping to some day find, but it was still better than tubing.
As we headed home that day, Ruth had an idea. “Why don’t we stop at the MacKenzie Center and see if they have any trees tapped.” This is an education center about a half hour north of Madison that has an annual Maple Syrup Festival on the first Saturday of April. We didn’t know if we’d find any trees tapped that day, but it wasn’t out of our way to check it out. We pulled into the first parking lot we found and, to our sheer delight, we spotted some old-fashioned metal sap buckets hanging from taps throughout the sugarbush.
A short distance from this parking lot, we found the Wallen Sugar House, where they boil maple sap and prepare it for the finishing process. I had often heard that it takes about 40 gallons of sap to make one gallon of maple syrup. A large sign by the sugar house said, “When sap is first collected from the tree, it is 95-99% water and only about 1-5% sugar. In order to make syrup, we concentrate the sugar by evaporating much of the water. When the sugar concentration reaches 66%, we have maple syrup. The amount of evaporation needed depends on the initial sugar content of the sap. If the sap contains 2% sugar, we must collect and boil 42 gallons of sap to make one gallon of syrup. With sap that is 5% sugar, we need only 17 gallons of sap. The trees at the MacKenzie Center produce sap that averages 3% sugar.”
The sign also said, “Historically, pioneers used iron kettles to boil syrup over an open fire. The Native Americans might have taught early European settlers to make maple syrup. However, Native Americans did not actually make syrup, since they would have had no way to store or transport it. Instead, they made maple sugar by putting very hot rocks into a hollowed log filled with sap. They boiled sap beyond the point of being syrup, until it eventually crystallized. They stored the sugar in a birch bark container, called a 'makuk' by the Ojibway. If kept dry, the maple sugar kept for a very long time.”
A couple months ago, we had read that Funks Grove Pure Maple Sirup (yes, I spelled that right) on Old Route 66 by Shirley, Illinois still used metal buckets for some of their sap collection. We had been wondering if we needed to travel over 3 hours to get a few “old-fashioned” photos of the sap collecting process. But the Universe delivered it to us close to home. If you get a chance, take your family to one of the maple syrup events. Some have pancake breakfasts and most have free maple-flavored treats.
Photos in this blog post can be purchased as wall art, paper prints, downloads, phone cases, and keepsakes by clicking on the photo. You will be taken to the gallery website where you will see a big blue "BUY" button. Or to see all photos available, click on the "Browse Galleries" button on the menu at the top of this page. Thank you for your interest!
Happy Spring and Happy Shunpiking!
Joann
Photos in this blog post can be purchased as wall art, paper prints, downloads, phone cases, and keepsakes. Just click on the desired photo and look for the blue “BUY” button.
In April, 2010, on Day One of a 13-day photography trip to North Carolina, one of our first stops was Deep River County Park near Hobart, Indiana. Our main reason for visiting this park was to see and capture a few images of the historic John Wood's Grist Mill. While exploring the park, we discovered the Deep River Sugar Shack, where park staff host Maple Syrup Time, an annual demonstration of how sap is collected and turned into maple syrup.
For probably ten years prior to that discovery, Ruth and I had been discussing that we should try to get out in late winter to photograph the maple sugaring process. We knew we could go to an annual event like the one held at Deep River, but our preference is to capture scenes away from the crowds and in the natural habitat. What we really wanted to find were the old-fashioned metal sap buckets, rather than the newer tubing that has replaced the buckets, but we didn’t really know where to look on the backroads to find this.
In October of that same year, we went looking for fall color on the backroads of Monroe County, Wisconsin. Early in the morning, as the sun began to warm the day, we stumbled on what looked like a dilapidated sugar house near the driveway of an Amish farm. We could see some family members in the yard, so we pulled in and asked them if it was a sugar house. They confirmed that it was and kindly allowed us to take some photos of it.
Again, this generated a discussion about how we should remember to go in search of tapped maple trees towards the end of the upcoming winter. But time, even in the long, seemingly endless winters of Wisconsin, has a way of slipping by for us and soon we realize that we’ve once again missed the rather short maple sugaring season.
Another five years passed before we discovered two more sugar shacks in Wisconsin, in the autumn of 2015. Well, actually, there were three. In early October, we were in an Amish area of Vernon County and noticed a new sugar shack built in front of an old sugar shack. Later that month, we decided to visit the Richfield Historical Park in Washington County. This park is home to many historic buildings which have been restored and are maintained by the Richfield Historical Society.
We hadn’t visited this park since February of 2008, and the snow-covered roads within the park weren’t plowed at that time, so we only took photos of the 1871 Messer/Mayer Grist Mill. In October of 2015, we thoroughly explored the park and were pleasantly surprised to find a beautiful red sugar shack, which was built in 2005 by a Boy Scout as a project to earn his Eagle Scout status. Again, here we were at a sugar house, but in the off-season. But I did peer through the window and saw what I think was probably a maple syrup grading kit on the table.
On March 9 of this year, after getting a little snow cover during a winter of low snowfall, we decided to do some photography in the Amish area in Columbia County. The day was full of many blessings. Early in the day, as the Amish children were arriving at school, some walking, some driving their own buggies, we discovered several very large maple trees that had been tapped for maple sap collection. Hanging below the taps were large plastic pails. They weren’t the old-fashioned buckets we were hoping to some day find, but it was still better than tubing.
As we headed home that day, Ruth had an idea. “Why don’t we stop at the MacKenzie Center and see if they have any trees tapped.” This is an education center about a half hour north of Madison that has an annual Maple Syrup Festival on the first Saturday of April. We didn’t know if we’d find any trees tapped that day, but it wasn’t out of our way to check it out. We pulled into the first parking lot we found and, to our sheer delight, we spotted some old-fashioned metal sap buckets hanging from taps throughout the sugarbush.
A short distance from this parking lot, we found the Wallen Sugar House, where they boil maple sap and prepare it for the finishing process. I had often heard that it takes about 40 gallons of sap to make one gallon of maple syrup. A large sign by the sugar house said, “When sap is first collected from the tree, it is 95-99% water and only about 1-5% sugar. In order to make syrup, we concentrate the sugar by evaporating much of the water. When the sugar concentration reaches 66%, we have maple syrup. The amount of evaporation needed depends on the initial sugar content of the sap. If the sap contains 2% sugar, we must collect and boil 42 gallons of sap to make one gallon of syrup. With sap that is 5% sugar, we need only 17 gallons of sap. The trees at the MacKenzie Center produce sap that averages 3% sugar.”
The sign also said, “Historically, pioneers used iron kettles to boil syrup over an open fire. The Native Americans might have taught early European settlers to make maple syrup. However, Native Americans did not actually make syrup, since they would have had no way to store or transport it. Instead, they made maple sugar by putting very hot rocks into a hollowed log filled with sap. They boiled sap beyond the point of being syrup, until it eventually crystallized. They stored the sugar in a birch bark container, called a 'makuk' by the Ojibway. If kept dry, the maple sugar kept for a very long time.”
A couple months ago, we had read that Funks Grove Pure Maple Sirup (yes, I spelled that right) on Old Route 66 by Shirley, Illinois still used metal buckets for some of their sap collection. We had been wondering if we needed to travel over 3 hours to get a few “old-fashioned” photos of the sap collecting process. But the Universe delivered it to us close to home. If you get a chance, take your family to one of the maple syrup events. Some have pancake breakfasts and most have free maple-flavored treats.
Photos in this blog post can be purchased as wall art, paper prints, downloads, phone cases, and keepsakes by clicking on the photo. You will be taken to the gallery website where you will see a big blue "BUY" button. Or to see all photos available, click on the "Browse Galleries" button on the menu at the top of this page. Thank you for your interest!
Happy Spring and Happy Shunpiking!
Joann
Thursday, December 1, 2016
It’s an Edsel!
By Ruth A. Ringelstetter
In the back of my mind, I knew that Edsel was a very rare make of car, so when I was doing research for our trips and saw a picture of an old Edsel dealership sign, I knew we had to try and find it.
The first Edsel models were introduced on September 4, 1957 for the model year 1958. The last model year was 1960 when only 2,846 cars were produced. Ford announced the end of the Edsel program on November 19, 1959. In total, only 118,287 Edsels were built. The company lost $350 million, and the Edsel became best known for being a marketing disaster.
Our first opportunity to look for the sign came in 2013 on a trip to Ohio. This was the same trip where I was overly ambitious in planning our stops driving to Ohio. When we look at the collection of photos, it is spectacular, but knowing that I practically wore poor Joann out on the first day of our trip, I know better than to plan that many stops on our travels to and from our chosen photography state. (Or at least I try to keep it lighter. I can’t say I’m always successful, but in my defense, sometimes I say we’ll get a couple of things in town, and Joann is the one who wants to look up more things.)
It was the morning of day 2 when we finally hit the town where I thought the Edsel sign was located. The problem is, even if it really was in town, I had no idea in what part of town. We found the downtown and started there. No luck. We went down my list of other locations around town, driving east and west, and north and south down the major roads. Still, no luck. We photographed other things as we stumbled on them.
Whenever Joann got out of the car to photograph something else, she asked anyone on the street if they knew of the sign. No one did.
We ended up back downtown, and Joann was just saying that she thought it was getting too late and that we had to leave without it, when a man mowing lawn across the street from where we were parked turned off his mower. She said she would ask him and if he didn’t know, we’d have to leave town without it.
But he thought he knew! He gave Joann directions, telling her that he apologized if he was sending us on a wild goose chase. But, he was right! We had been one block over from it, driving north on a one way street. Luckily, after Joann took photos of both sides of the sign, we could leave and continue on our way. (And only about three hours behind schedule.)
Now the problem was, we didn’t have an Edsel car to include in the story about finding the sign. Every time we saw old cars, Joann checked for an Edsel. Considering that they were only made for 3 model years, they are very rare and we never found one.
Then, just this fall, as we were driving around Sauk County, Wisconsin, Joann suddenly pulled over. I was looking down at the map, so I hadn’t even seen a photo opportunity. As she got out of the car to get her camera equipment, I asked what I had missed, and she said there was an old blue car, and she was running back to photograph it.
After a few minutes, she came back to the car and excitedly said “Guess what kind of car that was!” I said, “I have no idea,” since I hadn’t even seen a car at all, to which she replied “It’s an Edsel!”
Hopefully, this will be one of those things where, now that we’ve seen one, we’ll see more of them. (One can hope!)
Happy Shunpiking!
Ruth
In the back of my mind, I knew that Edsel was a very rare make of car, so when I was doing research for our trips and saw a picture of an old Edsel dealership sign, I knew we had to try and find it.
The first Edsel models were introduced on September 4, 1957 for the model year 1958. The last model year was 1960 when only 2,846 cars were produced. Ford announced the end of the Edsel program on November 19, 1959. In total, only 118,287 Edsels were built. The company lost $350 million, and the Edsel became best known for being a marketing disaster.
Our first opportunity to look for the sign came in 2013 on a trip to Ohio. This was the same trip where I was overly ambitious in planning our stops driving to Ohio. When we look at the collection of photos, it is spectacular, but knowing that I practically wore poor Joann out on the first day of our trip, I know better than to plan that many stops on our travels to and from our chosen photography state. (Or at least I try to keep it lighter. I can’t say I’m always successful, but in my defense, sometimes I say we’ll get a couple of things in town, and Joann is the one who wants to look up more things.)
It was the morning of day 2 when we finally hit the town where I thought the Edsel sign was located. The problem is, even if it really was in town, I had no idea in what part of town. We found the downtown and started there. No luck. We went down my list of other locations around town, driving east and west, and north and south down the major roads. Still, no luck. We photographed other things as we stumbled on them.
Whenever Joann got out of the car to photograph something else, she asked anyone on the street if they knew of the sign. No one did.
We ended up back downtown, and Joann was just saying that she thought it was getting too late and that we had to leave without it, when a man mowing lawn across the street from where we were parked turned off his mower. She said she would ask him and if he didn’t know, we’d have to leave town without it.
But he thought he knew! He gave Joann directions, telling her that he apologized if he was sending us on a wild goose chase. But, he was right! We had been one block over from it, driving north on a one way street. Luckily, after Joann took photos of both sides of the sign, we could leave and continue on our way. (And only about three hours behind schedule.)
Now the problem was, we didn’t have an Edsel car to include in the story about finding the sign. Every time we saw old cars, Joann checked for an Edsel. Considering that they were only made for 3 model years, they are very rare and we never found one.
Then, just this fall, as we were driving around Sauk County, Wisconsin, Joann suddenly pulled over. I was looking down at the map, so I hadn’t even seen a photo opportunity. As she got out of the car to get her camera equipment, I asked what I had missed, and she said there was an old blue car, and she was running back to photograph it.
After a few minutes, she came back to the car and excitedly said “Guess what kind of car that was!” I said, “I have no idea,” since I hadn’t even seen a car at all, to which she replied “It’s an Edsel!”
Hopefully, this will be one of those things where, now that we’ve seen one, we’ll see more of them. (One can hope!)
Happy Shunpiking!
Ruth
Monday, June 13, 2016
Duke
By Joann M. Ringelstetter
On Saturday, Ruth sent me a Facebook message saying that it was the anniversary of the death of legendary movie star John Wayne. She had been watching TV and wondering why they were playing a series of John Wayne movies. After discovering the reason, she suggested that we write a blog post about him next year on June 11. I decided to do it this year because I didn’t think we would remember next year.
John Wayne, who was also known as Duke, was born Marion Robert Morrison on May 26, 1907, in a simple four-room house in the small central Iowa town of Winterset. Since being restored in the early 1980s, this home has been toured by more than a million visitors from all 50 states and 40 foreign countries.
John Wayne’s acting career spanned roughly 50 years and nearly 250 movies. He acted in more than 70 low-budget films before becoming a star with the release of the movie “Stagecoach” in 1939.
One of my favorite John Wayne movies is “The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance,” a 1962 Western that also stars James Stewart. Several scenes in this movie take place inside and outside the saloon in the town of Shinbone.
In 1963, John Wayne starred in a comedy Western entitled, “McLintock!”. In the movie, he plays cattle and mining baron George Washington "G.W." McLintock. G. W. would come home drunk every night and throw his hat onto the weather vane located on the dormer end of a three-story house.
In a number of his movies, John Wayne played a U.S. Marshal, including one of his last movies, “Rooster Cogburn,” released in 1975. John Wayne died of cancer on June 11, 1979 at the age of 72.
As Tom Doniphon (John Wayne) says in The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, “Take ‘er easy there, Pilgrim.”
And Happy Shunpiking!
Joann
On Saturday, Ruth sent me a Facebook message saying that it was the anniversary of the death of legendary movie star John Wayne. She had been watching TV and wondering why they were playing a series of John Wayne movies. After discovering the reason, she suggested that we write a blog post about him next year on June 11. I decided to do it this year because I didn’t think we would remember next year.
John Wayne, who was also known as Duke, was born Marion Robert Morrison on May 26, 1907, in a simple four-room house in the small central Iowa town of Winterset. Since being restored in the early 1980s, this home has been toured by more than a million visitors from all 50 states and 40 foreign countries.
John Wayne’s acting career spanned roughly 50 years and nearly 250 movies. He acted in more than 70 low-budget films before becoming a star with the release of the movie “Stagecoach” in 1939.
One of my favorite John Wayne movies is “The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance,” a 1962 Western that also stars James Stewart. Several scenes in this movie take place inside and outside the saloon in the town of Shinbone.
In 1963, John Wayne starred in a comedy Western entitled, “McLintock!”. In the movie, he plays cattle and mining baron George Washington "G.W." McLintock. G. W. would come home drunk every night and throw his hat onto the weather vane located on the dormer end of a three-story house.
In a number of his movies, John Wayne played a U.S. Marshal, including one of his last movies, “Rooster Cogburn,” released in 1975. John Wayne died of cancer on June 11, 1979 at the age of 72.
As Tom Doniphon (John Wayne) says in The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, “Take ‘er easy there, Pilgrim.”
And Happy Shunpiking!
Joann
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