By Joann M. Ringelstetter
Today’s blog post introduces the third of our new short blog series, which will be called Quick Pic. In most cases, Quick Pic posts will feature just one photo and the story behind it. We hope you enjoy these short posts, which allow us to stay in touch more often.
In the summer of 2010, around 7:00 a.m. one morning, Ruth and I visited Two Harbors, Minnesota, a small town located north of Duluth along the shore of Lake Superior. On our way to photograph Two Harbors Lighthouse, we passed a brightly colored tugboat near the ore docks with the name Edna G on the side of its cabin. I snapped just one photograph.
Later, we discovered that the Edna G was built in 1896 and served the iron ore industry of Two Harbors until 1981, with the exception of her service on the east coast during World War I (1917-1919) and being out of service during the depression (1931-1933). She was the last coal-fed, steam-powered tugboat which operated on the Great Lakes. In 1974, the Edna G was designated a National Historic Site and, in 1994, she was fully restored. Today, she is open to the public for tours.
Happy Shunpiking!
Joann
Shunpiking To Heaven Backroads Blog
Sunday, April 28, 2013
Wednesday, April 24, 2013
A Mile Past Crooked Tree
By Ruth A. Ringelstetter
On our first trip to Ohio in 2009, Joann and I crisscrossed the southern part of the state hunting up Mail Pouch Tobacco barns and detouring now and then for other interesting things, including old general stores, covered bridges, and abandoned houses and farms.
One of the other things on my list that I wanted to visit was the H. C. Ogle Planing Mill near the town of Crooked Tree. A planing mill is a mill that takes cut and seasoned boards from a sawmill and finishes them for construction.
My directions for the mill said that it was less than a mile southwest of the town of Crooked Tree. We turned onto Crooked Tree Road from a highway east of Crooked Tree and expected to drive through the town of Crooked Tree before finding the mill. However, we came across the mill before reaching Crooked Tree.
The mill was a series of weathered buildings stretched out along the road. Most of the buildings had no windows, but the main building had multiple windows on both floors. The trim was painted white, which stood out in contrast to the weathered wood.
The mill was owned and operated by Harley C. Ogle who was a native of Crooked Tree. He was born January 21, 1891 and died November 23, 1982. He constructed his mill in the early 1900’s. The mill was powered by steam. Above the entrance door of the main building are wooden letters spelling "H. C. Ogle.”
Recently, I read that the mill was completely gone. We hope to visit the location of the mill on our next visit to Ohio and see for ourselves if the mill is truly gone. If it is, we will be saddened by its passing, but will be thankful that we found it in time to photograph it on our first visit.
Sometimes, due to inaccurate location information, rural architecture is reported to be gone. In this case, we have our fingers crossed that, because the directions were wrong, the person reporting its demise looked for it in the wrong place.
We’ll keep our hopes up until we know for sure.
Happy Shunpiking!
Ruth
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!
On our first trip to Ohio in 2009, Joann and I crisscrossed the southern part of the state hunting up Mail Pouch Tobacco barns and detouring now and then for other interesting things, including old general stores, covered bridges, and abandoned houses and farms.
One of the other things on my list that I wanted to visit was the H. C. Ogle Planing Mill near the town of Crooked Tree. A planing mill is a mill that takes cut and seasoned boards from a sawmill and finishes them for construction.
My directions for the mill said that it was less than a mile southwest of the town of Crooked Tree. We turned onto Crooked Tree Road from a highway east of Crooked Tree and expected to drive through the town of Crooked Tree before finding the mill. However, we came across the mill before reaching Crooked Tree.
The mill was a series of weathered buildings stretched out along the road. Most of the buildings had no windows, but the main building had multiple windows on both floors. The trim was painted white, which stood out in contrast to the weathered wood.
The mill was owned and operated by Harley C. Ogle who was a native of Crooked Tree. He was born January 21, 1891 and died November 23, 1982. He constructed his mill in the early 1900’s. The mill was powered by steam. Above the entrance door of the main building are wooden letters spelling "H. C. Ogle.”
Recently, I read that the mill was completely gone. We hope to visit the location of the mill on our next visit to Ohio and see for ourselves if the mill is truly gone. If it is, we will be saddened by its passing, but will be thankful that we found it in time to photograph it on our first visit.
Sometimes, due to inaccurate location information, rural architecture is reported to be gone. In this case, we have our fingers crossed that, because the directions were wrong, the person reporting its demise looked for it in the wrong place.
We’ll keep our hopes up until we know for sure.
Happy Shunpiking!
Ruth
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 21, 2013
Brief Encounters - “You’re Out!”
By Joann M. Ringelstetter
Today, we are introducing the second of our three new short blog series. This one is called Brief Encounters and it will feature subjects for which our images are few or the information about them is limited.
In June of 2011, Ruth and I passed through the small town of Ryan, Iowa, which has a population of approximately 400. In spite of its small size, through the donations of money, labor, equipment, and materials, this town’s residents developed an impressive city park and ball diamond.
According to the second edition of the book, “Iowa Curiosities,” a local priest named Father Beelner wanted to find something to distinguish Ryan’s new City Park. When the owner of a Happy Chef restaurant in nearby Cedar Rapids decided to “retire” his Happy Chef statue, he offered him to Father Beelner. It took more than 20 men to lift the 20-foot tall fiberglass statue onto a flatbed truck to be transported to its new home in Ryan.
Through the creativity of a local auto-body worker, the statue’s chef hat was replaced with a baseball cap and wire face mask. And the spoon in his raised right hand was replaced with a raised thumb to signal, “You’re out!” Finally, he received a paint job that finished the transformation from chef to umpire.
Talk about an amazing career transition!
Happy Shunpiking!
Joann
Today, we are introducing the second of our three new short blog series. This one is called Brief Encounters and it will feature subjects for which our images are few or the information about them is limited.
In June of 2011, Ruth and I passed through the small town of Ryan, Iowa, which has a population of approximately 400. In spite of its small size, through the donations of money, labor, equipment, and materials, this town’s residents developed an impressive city park and ball diamond.
According to the second edition of the book, “Iowa Curiosities,” a local priest named Father Beelner wanted to find something to distinguish Ryan’s new City Park. When the owner of a Happy Chef restaurant in nearby Cedar Rapids decided to “retire” his Happy Chef statue, he offered him to Father Beelner. It took more than 20 men to lift the 20-foot tall fiberglass statue onto a flatbed truck to be transported to its new home in Ryan.
Through the creativity of a local auto-body worker, the statue’s chef hat was replaced with a baseball cap and wire face mask. And the spoon in his raised right hand was replaced with a raised thumb to signal, “You’re out!” Finally, he received a paint job that finished the transformation from chef to umpire.
Talk about an amazing career transition!
Happy Shunpiking!
Joann
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)