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bignaz8 · 4 months ago

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ARIZONA INTERESTING FACTS:

1. Arizona has 3,928 mountain peaks and summits, more mountains than any one of the other Mountain States (Colorado, Idaho, Montana, Nevada, New Mexico, Utah, and Wyoming).

2. All New England, plus the state of Pennsylvania would fit inside Arizona.

3. Arizona became the 48th state and last of the contiguous states on February 14, 1912, Valentine’s Day.

4. Arizona's disparate climate can yield both the highest temperature across the nation and the lowest temperature across the nation in the same day.

5. There are more wilderness areas in Arizona than in the entire Midwest. Arizona alone has 90 wilderness areas, while the Midwest has 50.

6. Arizona has 26 peaks that are more than 10,000 feet in elevation.

7. Arizona has the largest contiguous stand of Ponderosa pines in the world stretching from near Flagstaff along the Mogollon Rim to the White Mountains region.

8. Yuma, Arizona is the country's highest producer of winter vegetables, especially lettuce.

9. Arizona is the 6th largest state in the nation, covering 113,909 square miles.

10. Out of all the states in the U.S., Arizona has the largest percentage of its land designated as Indian lands.

11. The Five C's of Arizona's economy are: Cattle, Copper, Citrus, Cotton, and Climate.

12. More copper is mined in Arizona than all the other states combined The Morenci Mine is the largest copper producer in all of North America.

13. Clark Gable and Carole Lombard, two of the most prominent movie stars of Hollywood's Golden Age, were married on March 18, 1939, in Kingman, Arizona.

14. Covering 18,608 sq. miles, Coconino County is the second largest county by land area in the 48 contiguous United States.(San Bernardino County in California is the largest).

15. The world's largest solar telescope is located at Kitt Peak National Observatory in Sells, Arizona.

16. Bisbee, Arizona is known as the Queen of the Copper Mines because during its mining heyday it produced nearly 25 percent of the world's copper. It was the largest city in the Southwest between Saint Louis and San Francisco.

17. Billy the Kid killed his first man, Windy Cahill, in Bonita, Arizona.

18. Arizona grows enough cotton each year to make more than one pair of jeans for every person in the United States.

19. Famous labor leader and activist Cesar Chavez was born in Yuma.

20. In 1912, President William Howard Taft was ready to make Arizona a state on February 12, but it was Lincoln's birthday.

The next day, the 13th, was considered bad luck so they waited until the following day. That's how Arizona became known as the Valentine State.

21. When England's famous London Bridge was replaced in the 1960s, the original was purchased, dismantled, shipped stone by stone and reconstructed in Lake Havasu City, Arizona, where it still stands today.

22. Mount Lemmon, Tucson, in the Santa Catalina Mountains, is the southernmost ski resort in the United States.

23. Rooster Cogburn Ostrich Ranch in Picacho, Arizona is the largest privately-owned ostrich ranch in the world outside South Africa.

24. If you cut down a protected species of cactus in Arizona, you could spend more than a year in prison.

25. The world's largest to-scale collection of miniature airplane models is housed at the library at Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University in Prescott, Arizona.

26. The only place in the country where mail is delivered by mule is the village of Supai, located at the bottom of the Grand Canyon.

27. Located on Arizona's western border, Parker Dam is the deepest dam in the world at 320 feet.

28. South Mountain Park/Preserve in Phoenix is the largest municipal park in the country.

29. Palo Verde Nuclear Generating Station, located about 55 miles west of Phoenix, generates more electricity than any other U.S. power plant.

30. Oraibi, a Hopi village located in Navajo County, Arizona, dates back to before A.D. 1200 and is reputed to be the oldest continuously inhabited community in America.

31. Built by Del Webb in 1960, Sun City, Arizona was the first 55-plus active adult retirement community in the country.

32. Petrified wood is the official state fossil. The Petrified Forest in northeastern Arizona contains America's largest deposits of petrified wood.

33. Many of the founders of San Francisco in 1776 were Spanish colonists from Tubac, Arizona.

34. Phoenix originated in 1866 as a hay camp to supply military post Camp McDowell.

35. Rainfall averages for Arizona range from less than three inches in the deserts to more than 30 inches per year in the mountains.

36. Rising to a height of 12,643 feet, Humphreys Peak north of Flagstaff is the state's highest mountain.

37. Roadrunners are not just in cartoons! In Arizona, you'll see them running up to 17-mph away from their enemies.

38. The Saguaro cactus is the largest cactus found in the U.S. It can grow as high as a five-story building and is native to the Sonoran Desert, which stretches across southern Arizona.

39. Sandra Day O'Connor, the first woman appointed to the U.S. Supreme Court, grew up on a large family ranch near Duncan, Arizona.

40. The best-preserved meteor crater in the world is located near Winslow, Arizona.

41. The average state elevation is 4,000 feet.

42. The Navajo Nation spans 27,000 square miles across the states of Utah, Arizona and New Mexico, but its capital is seated in Window Rock, Arizona.

43. The amount of copper utilized to make the copper dome atop Arizona's Capitol building is equivalent to the amount used in 4.8 million pennies.

44. Near Yuma, the Colorado River's elevation dips to 70 feet above sea level, making it the lowest point in the state.

45. The geographic center of Arizona is 55 miles southeast of Prescott near the community of Mayer.

46. You could pile four 1,300-foot skyscrapers on top of each other and they still would not reach the rim of the Grand Canyon.

47. The hottest temperature recorded in Arizona was 128 degrees at Lake Havasu City on June 29, 1994.

48. The coldest temperature recorded in Arizona was 40 degrees below zero at Hawley Lake on January 7, 1971.

49. A saguaro cactus can store up to nine tons of water.

50. The state of Massachusetts could fit inside Maricopa County (9,922 sq. miles).

51. The westernmost battle of the Civil War was fought at Picacho Pass on April 15, 1862 near Picacho Peak in Pinal County.

52. There are 11.2 million acres of National Forest in Arizona, and one-fourth of the state forested.

53. Wyatt Earp was neither the town marshal nor the sheriff in Tombstone at the time of the shoot-out at the O..K. Corral. His brother Virgil was the town marshal.

54. On June 6, 1936, the first barrel of tequila produced in the United States rolled off the production line in Nogales, Arizona.

55. The Sonoran Desert is the most biologically diverse desert in North America.

56. Bisbee is the Nation's Southernmost mile-high city.

57. The two largest man-made lakes in the U.S. are Lake Mead and Lake Powell, both located in Arizona.

58. The longest remaining intact section of Route 66 can be found in Arizona and runs from Seligman to Topock, a total of 157 unbroken miles.

59. The 13 stripes on the Arizona flag represent the 13 original colonies of the United States.

60. The negotiations for Geronimo's final surrender took place in Skeleton Canyon, near present day Douglas, Arizona, in 1886.

61. Prescott, Arizona is home to the world's oldest rodeo, and Payson, Arizona is home to the world's oldest continuous rodeo, both of which date back to the 1880's.

62. Kartchner Caverns, near Benson, Arizona, is a massive limestone cave with 13,000 feet of passages, two rooms as long as football fields, and one of the world's longest soda straw stalactites: measuring 21 feet 3 inches.

63. You can carry a loaded firearm on your person, no permit required.

64. Arizona has one of the lowest crime rates in the U.S.A.

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that-much-further-west · 1 year ago

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Went for a hike today and it was clear enough to see all the way from Pacific Palisades to Catalina Island ~40 miles away!

(Will Rogers State Historic Park, Los Angeles, CA - 9/9/2023)

#california #los angeles #photographers on tumblr

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yatescountyhistorycenter · 7 days ago

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Are we there yet?

By C.J. Hartman Thompson

(The following article originally appeared in Bluff & Vine, a literary review featuring work created in and around the Finger Lakes region of New York State, and is published here with the permission of the magazine. This article also appeared in three parts in Yates Past, the bi-monthly newsletter of the Yates County History Center).

I vividly recall growing up in the 1960s and ’70s, as if it were yesterday. Two of my younger siblings, our parents, and me, sitting upon red padded chairs, separated as if by seniority around the outskirts of our chrome-legged Formica top table. There, as with most nights before, we conversed over our day’s events, with my mother monitoring our consumption, occasionally reminding us three kids, “Children in China would be grateful to have half the food we had on our plates!” This, a likely response to me chasing nasty whole beets about on my plate with a fork, while my sister pretended she liked the venison steak that she would eventually conceal in her napkin and later place in the trash. My brother, forever innocent, and the youngest at the time, would proclaim that my sister and I were staring at him, knowing full well that it would get us in trouble again.

We were all expected to clean our plates and leave the kitchen spotless or forfeit going for our nightly ride out on Bluff Point. Exiting our home toward the driveway, as if in response to the slam of our screen door, I recall yelling, “I have the middle,” as we piled into our 1972 green Pontiac Catalina in reckless abandon, absent of all regard for the use of seatbelts. None of us wanted to sit behind our father, because when he smoked his pipe, he would periodically empty it against his outside driver’s door handle, sending the ashes back into the rear window. Adorned with his corn-cob pipe, our father preferred a tobacco named Sir Walter Raleigh, which came in a variety of red and black tins. Back then, there wasn’t any consideration given to children purchasing tobacco products, and so I remember biking to either Loblaws or Charles Bollen’s Super Duper to purchase tobacco, filters, or pipe cleaners for Dad. Our dad, having grown up on Pepper Road, could tell you about every nook and cranny on Bluff Point there was to know. My siblings and I never knew where we would end up on these nightly adventures, as we called them.

We would leave our home on the lower West Lake Road, which was behind Race’s Willowhurst Garage. Our grandfather Alton owned and operated the garage after being discharged from the Army, having served in World War II. We would head south to Keuka Park, and on the lake side going toward Keuka Park, Dad and Mom told us that this larger red brick building in Brandy Bay was once the electric generating plant for the Penn Yan, Keuka Park and Branchport Railroad. One of our great-grandfathers, Ray Kenyon, had been a conductor on one of the trolley cars.

Brandy Bay had been the hot spot back in the day, as just behind the tracks, closer to the lake, there had been a place called Electric Park, where folks would spend summer evenings listening to music and dancing in a community pavilion. Our parents were quick to mention that the railroad and Electric Park were way before their time, certain that the passenger service had stopped in 1927, while the railroad continued to transport freight for some years afterward.

In the early ’60s, the lower West Lake Road ran directly from Indian Pines to the Brandy Bay trolley stop, passing scattered family-owned cottages along the way. Remnants of the original track lie east of today’s Central Avenue, which wouldn’t be constructed until many years later. Minutes from Brandy Bay, we would be at the stop sign with the main entrance of Keuka College on our left. Ball Hall, Hegeman Hall, and Harrington Hall looked very impressive to all of us. An all-female college at the time, Keuka College became co-ed in 1985. Both my sister and I agreed that we would attend there following our graduation from high school, and the college would later graduate five members of our immediate families.

Turning right after stopping, our parents, pointing left, acknowledged the location of a general store and café owned by the Johnson family close to where the former Keuka Park Fire Department building stands, now a storage facility for Keuka College. A gazebo has been constructed nearby, a gift from a Keuka College alumni. Further up the road on the right was the community center, which is now the location for the Branchport and Keuka Park Fire Department. By this point in the ride and yet only minutes from home, one of us kids would ask, “Are we there yet?” to which Dad likely replied, “Pipe down, sit back, and enjoy the ride.”

Once out of Keuka Park, we headed southwest up Skyline Drive, where we were encouraged to look for deer, be they in a field or hedgerow, coming to a stop the moment any of us saw one. I kid you not, it wasn’t out of the norm to spot herds in excess of 60 deer milling about the fields of the bluff near dusk. If the deer were standing close to the road, Dad, placing two fingers in his mouth, would send a loud whistle their way, scaring them back into the impenetrable woods. In truth, I think he enjoyed watching them hop and dart back to the safety of the trees, while telling us how the motion of their tails would signal to the other deer in the herd if danger were nearby. I laugh now as I could not tell you the number of times we would stop, each of us pondering, “Are we there yet?”

The Herrick Cemetery, an old cemetery associated with the Bluff Point community, is soon pointed out to us, as our fourth-great grandparents, Elisha and Charlotte “Latchie” Knickerbocker Kenyon are both buried there. The cemetery itself sits back maybe 50 yards from Skyline Drive and looks majestic, as it sits higher than the fields surrounding it. I have in recent years gone there and walked around. Numerous markers made from old limestone have either toppled over or are not even marked. Elisha and Charlotte’s markers looked to have been repaired. It is a beautiful and tranquil spot, as one can overlook the valley, the rolling hills, and surrounding vineyards. Now the trees, once saplings 60 years ago, are large deciduous trees with the exception of a lonesome pine, all offering shade to those who rest in peace beneath them.

This particular day had been a hot one, and thankfully it was slowly cooling down. The evening sun was hesitant to disappear, and from our vantage point it looked to be like a red orange balloon in the sky way off in the distance. We knew tomorrow would also be another sweltering day. The smell of Coppertone Sun-tan Lotion, applied earlier in the day, still lingered, having been outside all day. Still near the cemetery, Dad might then point out the Pinnacle, which is about the same elevation of 1,400 feet above sea level as Bluff Point. The Pinnacle is a peak that overlooks Bluff Point and Branchport.

The Esperanza Mansion, in the distance, was perfectly placed close to the tip of the Pinnacle and was completed in July of 1838 by John Nicholas Rose, a wealthy farmer from Virginia. Upon further research, the Roses for the most part had many of the early indigenous people known to inhabit Bluff Point along with a retinue of enslaved people provide much of the labor in construction of the mansion. It is believed that they transported the limestone from near the end of the Bluff by canoe to the shores currently in care of Keuka Lake State Park. The limestone provided necessary support in the construction of its 11- to 14-inch thick walls, complete with internal shutters to cover the windows, given the potential for rogue arrows to be directed at them.

Unbeknownst to me, the Esperanza Mansion was also part of the Underground Railroad during the Civil War. Mind you, as kids, Dad was simply pointing to a huge hill beyond the cemetery that had a huge house on it. We were impatient of course to get to wherever Dad was taking us. Even with all windows down, just sitting next to one another we were weary of the heat and our knees and elbows bumping into one another for what we thought had been a monumental amount of time. One of us again asked, “Are we there yet?” Mom turned around and gave us the look as if to say, you best not ask that again.

Further up the road from the cemetery, we take a right turn at the “V” intersection, remaining on Skyline Drive. Should one choose the road to the left, you are on Vine Road. At this junction stands a small house, formerly a two-room schoolhouse my father attended. With additional research, I found the original structure was built in 1860 for $395. Its location was known as Jerusalem District No. 4, Fingar District. Several improvements were made between 1861 and 1903; a coal stove replaced the wood-burning unit, walls were plastered, a wire fence was built, new student seats, an entrance hall was added, new floor installed, and shade trees were planted in 1903. The salary for one teacher for the winter and summer terms was $5 per week.

My siblings and I were astonished to think that the little house could be a school and that Dad had to walk to school with his siblings. Dad smirks when he tells us that he along with some of his buddies would tip over the outhouse when other students were in there. Though the distance seemed like miles to us, it was less than a half-mile from his Pepper Road home, absent concern for the weather. My siblings and I make eye contact across the large backseat, grateful to hop on a bus only minutes away from our home, transported to a larger school complete with running water and plumbing.

Still on Skyline Drive, we have now gone by the northwest entrance to Scott Road, as we still call it today. There is a house that looks to be half in the ground on the left. Mom mentions the property the house now resides upon was once left to my dad’s mother when her father had passed away, and for whatever reason, my grandparents relinquished their ownership, though the cost of additional taxes may have been motivation at the time.

If we were lucky, some nights we would see the occasional flock of turkeys trot across the road, as they like to roost just before sunset. Tempted by the possibility of an ice cream cone from Seneca Farms, we were all encouraged to increase our focus out the windows, in search of wildlife running amuck. We were rubbernecking, as competition grew to spot the next animal or feathered friend.

Just down the road a piece is the John Hall Road, which was and still is a dead end. The only things we could see from Skyline Drive were a huge barn and a house down over the hill surrounded by vineyards that looked as though they may well go all the way to the lake. Our ride proved to be more interesting and fun the further we went out on the bluff.

Arriving upon yet another old schoolhouse, which I have researched as being District No. 5, the Kenyon District, Scott Settlement District, Bluff Point District. This schoolhouse is located near the southern entrance of the Scott Road and Skyline Drive intersection. Today, the most recent owner of the schoolhouse has taken the roof off of the building and placed a huge telescope in its place, making it the perfect spot for an observatory.

Fewer houses embellish our views out of the Pontiac, as we make our way to the end of the bluff, soon approaching the home of Marland (Dutch) Griffith and his wife, Izzy (Isabelle Walrath) on the left.

They were both dear friends of our parents. I believe Dutch and Izzy owned around 210 acres out on the bluff, which had two houses and multiple outbuildings. One of the homes, not visible from the road, was in fact Dutch’s childhood home, complete with a working hand-pump above its dug well and a three-holed outhouse east of the dwelling. A large red barn to the south stored his wooden bobsleds and countless wooden beer lugs used to harvest grapes by hand, prior to modern convenience.

The house visible from Skyline Drive also had a pole barn where firewood, tractors, and implements were stored, while a wood framed hangar lay tucked away in the corner of a hardwoods, secreting Dutch’s single-engine plane, complete with canvas wings and but one seat.

An avid private pilot, Dutch was a member of the Penn Yan Flying Club, having earned his license by bicycling once a week to Penn Yan and back in his teens. Our mom, more curious than our father, once went for a brief ride in the plane. She recalls sitting upon a turned over 5-gallon bucket for a seat.

Before takeoff, Mom recalls asking Dutch if the door handle was secure enough. There was what looked to be a water hose going out onto the upper edge of the windshield from within the plane, transferring fuel to the engine. Dutch took Mom as far as Bath and back, she having a death grip on Dutch’s shoulder during the flight’s entirety. Liking the ride, she was no less happy to be back on the ground, and still the three of us begged to ask, "Are we there yet?”

The Scott family lived across from Dutch and Izzy, while the Disbrow family home and property lay to the south and east side of Skyline drive, separated by a vineyard retained by the Scotts. The Disbrow family still owns much of the land on both sides of Skyline Drive, running all the way to the Garrett property on the east side of Skyline Drive but ending somewhat sooner on the west side.

Mom excitedly tells us when Dad and she were first dating they walked down over the hill near Disbrows and carved their initials into a tree. The slanting rays of the setting sun gave the surrounding landscape a stunning panoramic view. We felt as though we were on top of the world. One could see only the tops of other hills, Barrington to the east and Pulteney to the west. We could see deer everywhere in the fields on both sides of the road.

We pulled over on the east side near the little old stone spring house that still today feeds water to the Garrett Chapel. We all got out to stretch our legs and gazed in the direction of the Wagener Mansion, built by Abraham Wagener in 1833 on the southern tip of Bluff Point. Dad mentioned the stones used to build the foundation of the mansion were rumored to have come from the early indigenous ruins on Bluff Point. The mansion is not only intimidating by its size, but the grounds around the residence were well taken care of.

Dad was like an encyclopedia, full of information that he wanted to share with us. He then mentions our great-grandfather, Ray Kenyon, had been the manager of Paul Garrett’s vineyards for a time. Dad, along with his father and brother, all worked for the Garrett family, tending to their vineyards and fields, often using work horses to complete many tasks up and over the steep terrain, better suited to billy goats.

In writing this story, I interviewed my brother, who spent countless hours hunting with our dad on the bluff. I inquired as to whether I had forgotten any significant locations we may have heard tell of during the course of our rides, and he had several: Besides knowing the whereabouts of abandoned wells of grave importance to hunters, he mentioned places like the Hogpen, the Hole, and the Hairpin. The latter two, still visible on Google Earth, each name assigned to trails forged for farming or logging, all located on the west side of Skyline Drive.

Conversation momentarily turns to ice cream, and the debate ensues as to who wants what, with many, “I changed my minds,” in between. Both Dad and Mom settle on splitting a banana split. Returning North on Skyline Drive, Dad decided to take the first left going down Pepper Road.

I have found in old articles that Pepper Road had also been called Pepperville Road. The property immediately on the west side of the road had once belonged to the Pepper family. John William Pepper and Ruth Annie Kirk had immigrated from Leicestershire, England. They raised their family on Bluff Point. Dad went into great detail describing how the farm was huge, with a great big white farmhouse and a barn. He had never been in the house but was told by other Pepper family members that there had been a wood kitchen stove, and water needed for the kitchen was brought up by the pail from a pump down the hill in the gully. There was also an outhouse.

They owned several animals: cows, horses to pull the plow, rabbits, chickens, and pigs. Best known for their Concord grape vineyards, they also had assorted apple, cherry, and pear trees as well as black and red raspberries and strawberries. This property is now part of Keuka Lake State Park. Sadly, the Pepper home perished in a fire.

Our ride down Pepper Road continued, and we only had to cross over West Bluff Drive, which was perpendicular to Skyline Drive. This next property belonged to Herb Valentine; he owned around 114 acres, with his property adjoining the Gridley property. Both Pepper and Valentine properties went down the hill from Skyline Drive to Keuka Lake.

Dad and his father had been out hunting deer on a cold December morning when they heard cries for help coming from the Herb Valentine property. They found Herb lying on the ground near the wood pile. He had gone out to get wood for his stove the night before and fallen. Unable to get up, he had laid there overnight. Thankfully, Mr. Valentine didn’t suffer any great harm.

The Finger Lakes State Park, as it was known then, filed notice of acquisition and transfer of deeds, dated November of 1961 after the death of Herb Valentine. The Pepper and Valentine property totaled close to 500 acres.

I remember Dad parking the car at the top of West Bluff Drive in the winter, as the road was and still isn’t plowed in the winter. My parents, my siblings, and I would trudge through the snow part way down West Bluff Drive with our sleds in tow. We would be exhausted just going sledding down the hill two or three times.

#historyblog #history #museum #archives #yatescounty #american history #us history #local history #newyork #jerusalemny #bluffpointny #keukalake

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mutant-distraction · 1 year ago

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Kitty Rose

Old growth Saguaro at Catalina state park.

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triple-i-studios · 8 months ago

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I absolutely loved the views of the Tucson mountains in the background of this amazing wedding venue.

Venue: Catalina State Park, Tucson, AZ

#ido #photography #weddingphotography #weddingphotographer #engaged #love #couplegoals #loveatfirstsight #weddingreception #weddingreceptionvenue #luxurywedding #realwedding #newlyweds #wedding photoshoot #wedding photography #nikon #nikonphotography

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deadpresidents · 1 year ago

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Front page of The New York Times, July 30, 1923.

After spending nearly the entire month of July 1923 in Alaska and Canada (the first sitting President to visit either location) as part of his “Voyage of Understanding” across the continent, President Warren G. Harding was forced to cancel stops in Oregon, Northern California, and Yosemite National Park when he fell ill in Vancouver and Seattle on July 26th and 27th.

From Seattle, Harding’s party, which included First Lady Florence Harding and several Cabinet members (including Commerce Secretary and future President Herbert Hoover), traveled directly to San Francisco. Despite his weakened condition, the President refused suggestions by his doctors and aides that he be transported via wheelchair from his special railcar, the Superb, to a waiting limousine. Upon arriving at the Ferry Building in San Francisco, reporters who briefly saw him said that Harding -- who was only 57 years old -- looked “old and worn.” As he and the First Lady headed to the limousine waiting for them on Market Street, someone snapped the last photograph ever taken of President Harding alive.

When the Presidential party had left Seattle and word first started to circulate that Harding was ill, White House doctors announced that the President was suffering from “ptomaine poisoning” and acute indigestion, “due to eating crabs or canned food.” While they decided to head directly to San Francisco, only the events of the next few days, including his planned trip to Yosemite, were canceled. But by the time the President arrived in the Bay Area, it was decided that Harding’s condition was more alarming than previously believed, and the White House scrapped all events scheduled for California, announcing shortly before midnight on Sunday, July 29th that “the President is reluctantly persuaded that it will be necessary to cancel his entire California program” and apologizing to the people of the state expecting to see him.

No further information about Harding’s condition was officially released at that time other than the fact that the President was expected to remain in San Francisco for the next two weeks to rest and recuperate, but according to the New York Times on Monday, July 30th:

Outside of this statement and the bulletin by [Brigadier General Charles] Sawyer, his personal physician, no other information was authorized. It is learned, however, that General Sawyer was apprehensive late this afternoon of a turn for the worse in the President’s condition. While he was hopeful that a good rest would overcome the violent attack of ptomaine poisoning from which the President is suffering, he was careful to make no predictions. By some of those in the Presidential party this attitude was attributed to professional overcaution, but events tonight appear to have justified General Sawyer’s course.

As this dispatch is written (at 5 A.M. New York time) members of the corridor on which the Presidential suite is situated in the Palace Hotel. All of them show signs of being anxious. The theory of the President’s friends is that acute indigestion has affected his heart action. The President is conscious and is much concerned over the serious turn his illness has taken.

Mrs. Harding is at the President’s bedside and is greatly helping him by her calm and cheering attitude. She expresses confidence that Dr. Sawyer will be able to bring Mr. Harding back to health.

Harding’s “Voyage of Understanding” had come to a sudden halt and his planned trip through California had been canceled, sidetracking numerous public engagements and likely eliminating Harding’s much anticipated private deep-sea fishing expedition with William Wrigley off of Catalina Island. Over 5 million people were expecting to listen to Harding deliver a major speech over the radio the next night about foreign policy and American participation in the International Court of Justice, but it would instead be published as he recuperated. As Warren Gamaliel Harding rested in Room 8064 on the 8th Floor of the Palace Hotel in San Francisco on Monday, July 30th, his doctors were cautiously optimistic and First Lady Florence Harding was hopeful.

But the 57-year-old President of the United States had 72 hours to live.

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jonandjenrvlife · 11 months ago

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12/12/2023 - Kicking it on an 80° day in Tucson. Tomorrow we move to Catalina State Park. We have been driving 1/2 hour to see family and go to our old familiar meetings. We will be 10 minutes from family 🥰

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michael-massa-micon · 1 year ago

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Great Horned Owl - May 2023 This Great Horned Owl is nesting in a tree near the trailheads at Catalina State Park. I was riding through the parking lot one morning when I noticed several people with “bird lenses” and tripods pointed up into one of the trees. I asked what they were taking pictures of and they pointed up and said, “the owl.” I really had trouble picking out the owl among the branches. I was expecting one of the smaller owls, but this one was very large. With its eyes closed, it looks very much like a broken off portion of the trunk. I captured several images with my small camera with the intention of coming back in the afternoon with my long lens. The chicks were awake and up in the afternoon and momma had joined them in the nest. The second image is one of the chicks staring down at me with its sibling peeking through the top of the nest. In the third image, momma owl is looking over the chick’s shoulders making sure that I am not a threat. The fourth image is a closeup of the face of the shy chick that was peering up over the edge of the nest. MWM

#arizona #tucson az #oro valley az #catalina mountains #catalina state park #great horned owl

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davidwfloydart · 2 years ago

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"Land really is the best art." — Andy Warhol 🎨 *Picacho Peak State Park 🌵 ☀️ #tucsonarizona #desertlandscape #landscapephotography #desertlife #artofvisuals #sunsetlovers #cactuslovers (at Catalina Foothills, Arizona) https://www.instagram.com/p/CmXWYdSy_AJi-3b3rrpaop5SVHPolnEKZcl-mE0/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#tucsonarizona #desertlandscape #landscapephotography #desertlife #artofvisuals #sunsetlovers #cactuslovers

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kenneturner · 2 years ago

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Capturing The Moment -- Cristate (or Crested) Saguaro

Capturing The Moment — Cristate (or Crested) Saguaro

While hiking on the Sutherland Trail in Catalina State Park, we spotted this most unusual cristate (or crested) saguaro not far from the trail. Most cristate saguaros have a mutation that forms at the top of the cactus, giving it a crown appearance. At one time, this may have been the case with this saguaro; however, as it grew and aged, its new arms grew taller than the crown. Of course, this is…

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#Catalina State Park #mutation #Saguaro #Sonoran Desert #Sutherland Trail #Tucson Arizona

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feverinfeveroutfic · 2 years ago

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sunburn | desert rose

“I’m so glad you could come along.”

It had been some time since he had last seen Sam, especially after the two of them had returned to the opposite sides of the state in the meantime: it would be a whole day trip just down to Los Angeles from the Bay Area alone, but then he had to hop onto a boat to reach Catalina Island as well on top of that, plus he had to hitch a ride on top of that given he had yet to earn his driver’s license.

It was the whole feeling of being unable to see your best friend after a great length of time: Sam was tucked away in the house on Catalina while her mother worked on her latest manuscript and without really anywhere else to go in the meantime as well. The one day came along when she called him up to ask him about what he had planned to do for the next weekend, and he was eager to tell her that he had nothing on his plate for the time being.

He and Louie hitched a ride over to the Reno-Sparks area, especially since Zelda was going to be there as well. Chuck and Eric had their giggles about it as well, but they had to promise not to tell Louie’s girlfriend while they were away; Eric wanted to come along but there was a far amount of work to do on Legacy’s, now known as Testament’s, new album, especially with Metallica having dropped Master of Puppets the month before. Meanwhile, Alex stayed in the front seat of the car with his long beautiful jet-black hair billowing in the wind and with the sunglasses covering his eyes, all without a care in the world, especially once he and Louie reached the northern edge of Reno and made their way down to Virginia City. Sam had hinted at a little surprise of sorts once they showed up outside the Julia Bulette Café.

It had been quite some time since those two boys had last visited that whole area as well, and the first time they had gone through that canyon due south of Reno, through the hillsides and those lush, low bushes in junction with the sparse grasses that sprouted up with the recent rouses of rainfall over the course of the past winter, so the whole area seemed alien to them. A couple of boys trekking along through the hills as if they were on some wild quest to find buried treasure, Louie’s car hummed along the little two-lane road until they reached that stretch of desert land right smack in the center of the hillsides. The mouth of Sutro Tunnel gaped off to the left side of the road, but there was the café right at the northern edge of the ghost town that rose in the face of the silver mine around the same time of as the California Gold Rush.

“Apparently, it’s also a sex museum,” Louie told Alex once they passed the mouth of the tunnel.

“What, the café?” Alex asked him with a chuckle.

“Yeah. Eric and I were reading about it the other day—it’s like an old western style saloon complete with a makeshift brothel right next door.”

“Ah, man. I assume I won’t be able to go inside for at least another few months.”

“We’ll sneak ya in,” Louie teased him. “You could also just say you’re eighteen, too.”

“Times like this I wish I still had that fake ID from a couple of years ago,” Alex said with a sly smirk.

“Whatever happened to it?” Louie asked him as they slowed down at the northern side of the town.

“Lost it at Ruthie’s,” Alex replied with a nudge of his sunglasses up the prominent aquiline bridge of his nose. “Jeff—Becerra—and I were at the back of the room watching Exodus perform and I literally felt it fall right out of my pants pocket. I’m glad he and I got in otherwise because they were great that night.”

They reached the narrow dirt parking lot on the side of the wooden building there on the right side of the road: no sooner had Louie switched off the car when Zelda’s head of short black hair topped with shiny silvery sunglasses emerged from behind the corner.

“There’s my girl!” Louie exclaimed, and he and Alex climbed out of the car in unison. A gust of wind swept up Alex’s black curls all around his head: he had just dyed the little pearl of gray hair at the crown of his head that solid black, and thus, he hoped that Sam wouldn’t notice the fact that he had covered it up. Then again, she was older than him, and he wasn’t even old enough to hold a beer bottle much less kiss her on the mouth.

They had met Sam as well as Aurora, Marla, Belinda, and Zelda the year before back at L’Amour in New York, and the second that Alex laid eyes on her, he could feel his heart beating faster, and he could feel the heat rising up inside of him. It was a feeling he couldn’t shake, and yet there was no way of telling anyone about it, either. He was just a boy still: what did he know about love?

Indeed, as he and Louie strode on over to meet up with Zelda, he could feel her presence around the corner. Her long hair twirled in the high desert wind and she wore that hat upon her head to accentuate it. It belonged to Cliff, but he and Louie both knew that it was for her. Her face lit up at the sight of him, and he knitted his knees together a bit to show off the slight curve to his hips.

“Hi, Alex,” Sam greeted him: that muddied California accent that, at one point was tiresome for him and yet she had resurrected it and polished it in the loveliest way possible.

“Uh, hi, Samantha,” he returned the favor, and he knew that his face was turning bright red at the utter sight of her before him. He couldn’t help it at all.

“I’m so glad you three could come along here to beautiful Virginia City,” she told him as well as Louie and Zelda. “My parents and I used to come here all the time when I was little and now that I’m old enough, I decided to invite you guys here to Julia Bulette’s after they’ve renovated the place—”

Alex couldn’t help but imagine himself on top of her as she led them into the cozy café and saloon. She belonged to Cliff but the feeling was driving him out of his mind, and more so at the thought of them sitting so close to the sex museum. They sat together at the heavy dark finished wood bar with the matching bar stools to go with it all. While Sam and Louie were of drinking age, he and Zelda could sit there together as long as they served up food.

“Yeah, I don’t turn twenty-one for another couple of years,” she told him. “December thirtieth, no less!”

“At least you’re more than barely legal,” Alex pointed out, and she burst out laughing.

“I really am,” she said with a tuck of a lock of black hair behind her ear. Zelda was like a little elf with her small, slightly pointed ears and slim, wiry body: her hands almost seemed too big for her arms.

“It’s funny, you don’t really strike me as a drummer,” he pointed out.

“I’m tryin’ to put on some weight,” she told him. “Just a few pounds to help me play better. I feel like I can’t keep up most days.” She turned her head towards him: Alex spotted the crown of Sam’s head on the other side of Louie. When he looked past Zelda, he flitted the quickest glimpses into those big brown eyes. Something inside of there, a feeling that he hadn’t seen all too often. Maybe it was the way in which that her face lit up whenever Louie said something humorous to her. Maybe it was the way that they seemed so innocent and yet so ancient at the same time. He wanted to drink down the feeling that resided within, and yet it seemed so out of reach.

He was a boy with a crush, and yet he knew in his heart that that was all he would ever be in the end.

“Alex? Alex!”

He shook his head about and glanced down at Zelda and the slight smirk on her face.

“Penny for your thoughts, big boy?”

“Penis for your thoughts? Is that what you said?” Louie joined in right then and the four of them burst out into an uproar of laughter.

“Penny for your thoughts, Lou!” Zelda exclaimed as her face turned bright pink. The bartender strolled on up to them with a big grin on her face and two glasses in hand, one with a creamy white drink with ice and the other looked like just a straight beer.

“Virgin screaming orgasm?” Sam raised her hand, and Alex nearly choked on his own spit at the sound of that.

“And a beer!” Louie drummed his fingers on the edge of the bar in excitement. The bartender then picked up two more bright red glasses lined with maraschino cherries from the speedwell next to them.

“And a couple of Roy Rogers,” she declared as she set the glasses before Alex and Zelda. When she turned her back, Zelda reached into her pocket for something small and slender.

“Hope no one notices,” she whispered to Alex as she unscrewed the cap and poured in a dark liquid into her drink.

“Oh my god, really?” he demanded.

“Relax, it’s just sarsaparilla,” she scoffed as she put the cap back onto the flask. “Coke’s always been a little too strong for me.” She then chuckled at him. “What, did you think I had booze in here?”

“Maybe,” he quipped as he picked up his glass and sipped it down. The sugar from the Coke made him shake his head about. “Yeah, that’s awful strong.” Zelda took off the cap again and poured some inside. He gave it a quick stir with the straw before the bartender could return and catch them with something from the outside. He then took another sip, and right then, he caught the bite of alcohol in there.

“Whoa,” he breathed.

“Now it’s a Pimm’s cup,” she whispered to him, and flashed him a wink.

“Thought you said it was sarsaparilla?” he sputtered, and he could already feel himself slipping.

“It is, but there’s a little kiss of gin in there,” she whispered to him. “I just didn’t want the bartender to hear.”

“You snuck that in?” He hiccuped. He was without a doubt a lightweight.

“Babes, I’m from New England—we work hard, we play hard.”

Alex looked down at his glass of Roy Rogers, now spiked with the tiniest bit of gin. He didn’t want the drink to go to waste, and thus, he drank it down as fast as he could while he still enjoyed it and kept anyone from giving him odd looks. He was a teenage boy in a saloon next door to a sex museum and the girl whom he had a crush on was two people away from him.

That is, until Sam herself wanted to show them the museum in question, the doorway of which stood right across the room from them. But Alex stayed there at the bar with the Roy Rogers right there in front of him, to which he kept the straw rested upon his bottom lip, as if he was still a young boy who had come there with his parents.

And yet, he was alone there at the bar. The bartender had gone into the back room behind the mirrored, brightly lit back wall of the bar, and the three of them were enjoying themselves together in that sex museum.

He was still seventeen but no one was looking.

“Welcome to manhood, I guess,” he muttered to himself, and he picked up the glass and ambled across the floor. The drink had filled his slim belly to where it felt as though a big dead weight resided within him. He rested his free hand on his waist to steady himself, and he staggered over to the swinging doors there. Deep rich red lights washed over the crown of his head, a more intimate feeling to everything as well as their four precious bodies congregate inside of there out of mere curiosity.

Alex stood in the doorway of the sex museum, and the only things he was missing were his cowboy boots and a matching hat.

“Oh, my god,” he breathed. Sam, who stood right by the doorway with the glass of virgin screaming orgasm, showed him a smile.

“I’m glad you came,” she told him in a near whisper.

A soft rustling noise caught his ear as the four of them stood there at the front part of the rather small, intimate museum: the walls were all smooth and rich in appearance, and they seemed to close in on them in there, the vast dark cavern that gave him so many feelings the more that he thought about it. Alex kept his attention to Sam with his lips slightly parted, and she kept her gaze fixed on the conspicuous patch of black over his forehead. A small vein in a dark tapestry of blackness that riddled about his head in a thick, lush helmet, and yet, he knew for certain that Sam could see it for herself given the fact that his hair there did not grow the same way as the rest of his hair.

She sniffed the side of his face.

“Do I smell a little booze on you?” she asked him, still in a low whisper.

“No,” he assured her.

“You sure?” She flashed a glance over at Zelda, who was checking out some old lingerie from the Gold Rush era on display with Louie at her side.

“Positive,” Alex promised her. Zelda and Louie bowed ahead, but Sam led Alex over to the corner right next to the doorway to keep him in the shadows, away from prying eyes, be it the bartender or from someone else who desired to come into the saloon for any reason. Alex downed the rest of the dirty Roy Rogers while Sam polished off the rest of her virgin screaming orgasm.

“I feel like we could at least have some time to ourselves,” she said, and her voice swept over his soft smooth skin. “I saw you looking at me back there.”

“You’ve read my mind, my dear—” Alex could feel her hand on his shoulder, and she nudged him further into the corner, into the safety of the shadows and between two posters for peep shows no less. Alex gazed on at her with his glass down by his hip and nowhere to set it down. Sam put her glass down on the floor and all the while, she never released her gaze from his face, into those crystalline eyes which gazed back at her from the veil of earthy darkness around us: where everything was dry as a bone out there, Alex could already feel the humidity press itself onto his skin. It was like they had gone to the beach instead of the desert.

“Would you mind at all if we had some time to ourselves?” she whispered to him. Alex parted his lips to speak but no sound came out. Zelda hadn’t poured a lot of sarsaparilla into his Roy Rogers but it had dried him out to where he could hardly say a word.

He had no idea what overcame him. Her body welcomed him as he loomed closer to her. They were behind the corner, out of Zelda and Louie’s sight: as far as Alex and Sam knew, they had disappeared over by the primitive sex toys.

“Please,” he said right into her face, and he moved in closer to her. He rested a hand on her belly and brushed up her shirt: his fingers glided up her skin, and she shivered from the feeling.

“Damn, that’s so soft,” he whispered.

“Just you wait ‘til you touch me below the belt,” she breathed right into his mouth, and he let out a soft whimper right back at her.

Alex pressed his lips onto her own, and he pressed her to the wall to the left of him, right underneath the poster for the peep show. Sam wrapped her arms around his slender waist. His hands glided up her belly to her chest, and then onto her back for the hooks on her bra. His curls fell all around the sides of his head, and the ends brushed against the sides of her own: these frizzy, fuzzy little corkscrews that brushed against her skin. She could feel his hair while he drank down the scent on the crown of her head as well as the sides of her neck.

Alex could feel something there between him and Sam. Something he couldn’t exactly put into words. It was a genuine connection with something else, a feeling that someone like Zelda wasn’t telling him a whole manner of things while he was there with Sam. It was as if his body had a mind of its own and all his feelings intertwined in a delicate web within him, and they could wait in his untangling them.

It did. He had his desires, and Sam had her own, and walking along there in silence ignited something so fast between the two of us. If this wasn’t going to make Zelda drink down some more of that sarsaparilla with Louie, then he had no idea as to what would.

“Lord, it’s like making out with the devil himself,” Sam whispered to him in between kisses. And with her, it was like making out with someone who could fit right into his arms.

He unhooked her bra and then his hands slithered down her sides: his lanky fingers pulsated on the tops of her hips, and she giggled at the feeling. She rested her own hands on his upper back and hooked a knee up onto his hip. The fear of being inside of a dark cave went away right then, and the sound of his own heartbeat filled his ears. The sound of his own heart in his own ears made him think of the ghosts which haunted that very ghost town.

They were watching them. Their eyes were watching them.

Even with the cool feeling of the museum around them, Alex could feel the warmth swell up inside him yet again. The warmth from his own body as well as the warmth from hers there before him.

“I want to make you dinner,” she whispered to him. “The biggest dinner you want for your sexy little belly and then I want to draw your beautiful body.”

“Please,” he said as he lunged in for another round of kisses on those lips.

“I want to give you everything,” she begged him.

“And I want to make you everything,” he whispered, and in a husky low tone as well, a tone that seemed to come right out of nowhere. “Everything and anything you could ever ask for—”

“Please,” she begged to him, and she reached down into the front of his jeans for a feel of that skin there. His skin underneath his belly button that was so soft, but when she caressed down under the waistband of his jeans, he knew that it felt like stroking silk. His hands then slithered around her chest for a feel of her breasts, right under the cups of her bra. Her skin was so unbelievably soft and smooth under there. Silk on silk, satin on satin, darkness topped by a whisper that morphed into a growl.

She gave him a nice hearty fondle with nothing more than her fingertips, and his body shuddered and shook at the feeling. She moved from her fingertips to her palm for the job and he barred his teeth. The pad of his thumb caressed over her nipple, and she gasped. He snickered at that, and then she gripped onto him for doing that.

He moved his fingers down from her breast back onto her belly: she gasped from the feeling as he brought his index finger to her belly button and all its sensitivity. It was almost pointless to remain quiet given every noise, every sound, every single part of it, echoed throughout the sex museum around us. That whole room catalogued sex. For a second, Alex swore that they were surrounded by the ghosts of the loneliest miners from the thick of the Gold Rush. And then he realized they were the real ghosts, and especially when he peeled off Sam’s shirt and pushed it up to her face so she couldn’t see him drop his pants part of the way. She couldn’t see him press his lips onto her nipples, as dark as the earth beneath us.

She writhed underneath him. She had to be coming soon enough. She pushed her shirt off her face, and he raised his gaze from her chest with his tongue out and his face flushed. It was right then she realized that she had let go of him.

Quickly, she reached back down to his underwear, and she let her hand make its way down there again. He held still, complete with a big euphoric grin on his face: though his pants were still on, he could feel himself growing wet from her loving touch.

He was going to come before her and before he turned eighteen no less. He couldn’t believe it.

He held still so she could find it. And then she found the damp spot.

She slipped her fingertip in there for a little fondling. Alex closed his eyes. He panted right into her mouth from the feeling when he stuck his hand down the front of her jeans for a feeling for himself. But it was too little too late for him, though. He could feel himself coming right onto her fingertip before he could do anything more. Sam beat him to the punchline.

He gasped, and then let out a low moan right into her throat. His moan then morphed into a low, gravelly growl, a sound so primeval that even the ghosts that haunted the walls of that museum could hear him.

He shoved his hand down the front of her jeans for a few little twitches on her clit, and she burst out laughing at the feeling. When he touched that little nub of nerves, Sam’s laughter stopped, and she let out a soft low moan as well. She came so fast, and she came so softly and quietly, and it was enough to let a wave of warmth wash over the two of them. It helped that the room was somewhat humid: Alex could feel the warmth and the glow over his forehead and his cheekbones.

Sam raised her head to him, and she, too, had a warm sheen over her face. She put her arms around him, and he let some of those corkscrews fall around the sides of her head. As far as they both knew, Zelda and Louie had never heard them, even though their voices echoed enough through the museum that be heard from the outside. Alex let out a low whistle.

“I’m so glad you could come along,” Sam told him once again, and that time in a low whisper into his ear.

“And I'm glad you could come along, too,” he said with a clearing of his throat. “Dearest Samantha, my dark shadow, my secret face. Let's get out of here before Zelda and Lou see what we’re doing here—”

#spring fever #fever in fever out #fever in fever out fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #testament fanfic #testament band #testament #louie clemente #alex skolnick #alex x sam #smut #smut and humor #one shot collection #also on ao3 #text

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