Monday, January 16, 2012

photoblogging: Lincoln railway station

Stekoa having caught a rabbit the day before, Jessica and I took an afternoon to shoot pictures at the train station downtown.




Chicago, Burlington & Quincy engine 710, built in Havelock—then (1901) a railroad town near Lincoln, now a neighborhood within Lincoln.


A modern successor rolls through.


De-evolution of the baggage cart: the older ones have so much more character.




I like the simplicity of the graphics on these old boxcars; they remind me somehow of fruit-crate labels or old WPA posters.








An assortment:




Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Cassowaries, and more of the world's most awfulest things

Duncan Wright at 10,000 Birds has a nice essay on his native land of Australia, a wonderful place where everything is potentially out to get you:

“You don’t have to move far off the plane to step into the danger zone. Lurking in the suburban lawns of Sydney are the deadly Funnelweb Spiders. Sharks cruise off the city’s beaches, and just yesterday a deadly species of snake was found in a suburban railway station. Further afield, there is a poisonous mammal, the platypus, many waterways are filled with the carnivorous Saltwater Crocodile, and a species known as the box jellyfish is so dangerous that it causes the closure of every beach across the entire north of the continent for several months each year, an achievement that the sharks can only look at in wonder.”

RTWT.

Jessica's comment was, "God made Australia so that most of the world’s most awfulest things can be easily avoided."

Meanwhile, we're limited to just a few statistically insignificant wildlife hazards, like the odd mountain lion... [Sigh.]


I'll save you the trouble...here's the list from Wikipedia.

Sunday, January 1, 2012

Ginger binger 3

He's the colour of nutmeg and the heat of ginger.

—William Shakespeare, Henry V

A partial repost, with a few new additions (grouped together at the beginning and highlighted in red).

Exactly when and how the tradition started I no longer remember, but for years our family's New Year's Eve ritual was to stay up late, playing Monopoly and drinking ginger ale or ginger beer. My dad, whose usual beverage of choice was Coca-Cola, may have started this, or it may have originated with my grandfather, but in any case I have become the keeper of the flame and do my best to uphold the family tradition.

For the third year in a row, I have decided to throw caution to the wind, sample as many different brands and varieties as I could get hold of, and post tasting notes for the benefit of the ginger-loving public—or at least such of them as may read Flyover Country. I had the assistance of my daughter Ellie, who was out of town for the actual binge but sampled most of the new varieties at one point or another, and my fianceé, Jessica Farrell, who is a ginger enthusiast in her own right.

I have also been fortunate in this endeavour to have the assistance of Damian Barton, owner of Rocket Fizz, Lincoln's soda specialty shop. It's a good place to find "vintage-style" candy (clove-flavoured chewing gum, even!) as well as toys (for example, Jesus and Albert Einstein action figures), but carbonated beverages are their mainstay. I discovered several new brands here, and they carry several of my old favourites, which saved me an infinity of driving.

There are three basic types of ginger soda. Ginger beer (hereafter GB) is the most "authentic" (as with ethnic food, that can be a positive or negative attribute depending on one's tastes) and usually has the strongest ginger flavour. In its most traditional form it is brewed from a live culture of yeast and/or bacteria, but may also be produced with pressurized carbon dioxide as are, for example, most colas. Traditional GBs are cloudy, as small particles of chopped ginger root are suspended in the liquid; when artificial flavouring is used, artificial colouring will often be used as well to attain the cloudy GB appearance.

Golden ginger ale (GGA) is darker in colour than GB, but usually clear. Again, it may be either brewed or artificially carbonated, naturally or artificially flavoured, and may contain any of a variety of sweeteners. The ginger taste of a GGA is usually not as strong as that of a GB, but more pronounced than that of a dry ginger ale (DGA). DGAs are lighter in flavour as well as in colour, and are the most familiar to Americans, Canada Dry and Schweppes being representative brands. The most recently developed of the three ginger sodas, DGAs are much likelier to be artificially carbonated than brewed, but may contain any combination of flavour and sweetener types. As most readers will already be familiar with DGAs, I did not expend great effort to seek them out for the binge.

Yes, by Saint Anne, and ginger be hot i' the mouth.

—Shakespeare, Twelfth Night

On to the tasting notes...

NEW: Ale-8-One ("a late one") is described as "a Kentucky favorite since G.L. Wainscott blended the first batch in 1926". The label on the green-glass bottle references fruit flavour, but it was a bit too subtle for us; our overall impression was of a pretty standard, even bland, DGA.

NEW: Americana Honey Lime Ginger Ale shares rookie-of-the-year honours with Goose Island (reviewed below). The front label bears the legend "handcrafted—sweetened with pure cane sugar", along with a picture of a lime and a honey dipper, which briefly confused me. Never fear, it contain both, along with natural flavours. The brown glass bottle hides a unique pink-tinted soda, best appreciated when poured into a glass. Pronounced citrus taste, as one would expect.

NEW: Dream Lode Golden Ginger Ale is a bit of an enigma. The label tells a gold-rush story, but the drink is bottled in a Chicago suburb. And despite the name, it's a DGA, in fact an exceedingly pale one, not really a GGA. Nevertheless, it's pretty good, with good ginger flavour and notes of lemon. Carbonated water, cane sugar, natural and artificial flavours, in green glass.

NEW: Bedford's Ginger Ale is a West Coast entry, made in Port Angeles, Washington since 1984. It's spicy for a DGA, with peppery notes, and boasting an extraordinary quartz-like clarity. Carbonated water, cane sugar, and natural and artificial flavours in brown glass with a slightly hideous heraldic-style label in primary colours of green, red, and yellow. The drink is definitely better than the label.

NEW: Goose Island Spicy Ginger is a solid GGA, and an instant favourite with all of us. It's made by the Goose Island Brewing Co. in Chicago, so I assumed it would be brewed, but in fact it's made with artificially carbonated water. Still, in this case it doesn't hurt the taste, which includes real ginger flavour and pure cane sugar. Like most GGAs, it's in clear glass, this one with an attractive ginger-root label.

NEW: From Niagara Falls, New York and the mid-1930s comes Johnnie Ryan Ginger Ale ("First for Thirst"), a mild GGA nicely showed off in clear glass with a painted label. We tried hard to think of something else to say, but kept coming back to "mild". Essentially a DGA with GGA colour. Carbonated water, cane sugar, natural and artificial flavours.

AJ Stephans Jamaican Style Ginger Beer hails not from the Caribbean but from Boston, where the brand has apparently existed since 1926. At first glance, this looks authentic enough: brown glass bottle, GB cloudy to the point of being opaque, decent heat. But I can't help noticing that the label makes a big deal out of "pure sugar & pure water" without mentioning pure ginger. A glance at the ingredients list tends to confirm my suspicions: just "flavor", without reference to origin; I therefore assume that someone in Boston has been playing with their chemistry set. Overall, okay but not a standout (though my second impression was more favourable than my first).

Barritts Bermuda Stone Ginger Beer is from the Caribbean, specifically from Smith's Parish in, would you believe it, Bermuda. I usually prefer brown or green bottles to clear when it comes to GB, but I'll make an exception for Barritts since the drink itself is so marvellously opaque. A very good product, made with real sugar and natural and artificial flavour.

Blenheim Ginger Ale, I'm told, comes in several varieties, all in clear glass with a white-painted label (extra point for style!) bearing an American eagle-and-shield design. The one we sampled, with the pink bottle cap, is supposed to be the hottest, and indeed it was nicely spicy. The clear glass shows off the nice, almost crystalline, colour of this South Carolinian GGA. Sucrose, natural flavour. [UPDATE: I can now verify the gold-capped Blenheim is also quite good and, as expected, not as hot. Hardcore ginger fans will favour the pink cap; novices might want to go for the gold.]

Boylan Bottleworks Ginger Ale is a solid DGA with nice citrus notes. Made with cane sugar, bottled in green glass. The notation, "Registered 1891", refers to the company's origins: New Jersey pharmacist William Boylan's first soda was not a ginger ale but a birch beer.

Buderim Ginger Authentic Australian Ginger Brew is excellent. Slow-brewed using an open-kettle process, cane sugar, and locally-grown ginger (extra points for that), then bottled in brown glass with a kangaroo on the label. (I think there must be a law requiring that all Australian foodstuffs produced for export bear a marsupial on the label.) Good heat, but very smooth.

Bundaberg Australian Ginger Beer is another outstanding and very traditional GB. "Naturally brewed to be better", using cane sugar and ginger root—in fact, the label advises that the bottle be inverted before opening in order to get all the little bits of ginger back into suspension. It's a great little bottle, too, short but stout ("shrub bottle", I think I've heard it called?) in brown glass, with a unique peel-off cap and, of course, the obligatory kangaroo on the label. Unfortunately, my one "local" source (actually an hour away in Omaha) has gone out of business, so I'm hoarding my dwindling supply, but Rocket Fizz may be able to order it in. Cross fingers for me... [UPDATE: Now a regular item at Rocket Fizz. Thank you, Damian.]

Capt'n Eli's Ginger Beer, made by the Shipyard Brewing Co. in Portland, Maine, seems to have everything going for it: cane sugar, natural ginger flavour, brown glass bottle with a nautical scene on the label. But it's very clear, with mild spiciness at best. In fact, what it reminds me of most is a slightly punched-up Canada Dry. ("Not that there's anything wrong with that," he hastened to add.) A DGA sheep in wolf's clothing.

Cock 'n Bull Ginger Beer may sound like a drink brewed at a public house in Britain for centuries, but in fact it has been around only since 1946 and is named for the Cock 'n Bull Tavern in Hollywood, California. Furthermore, it seems to have been the inspiration for the original Moscow Mule cocktail. Quite good on its own, though, and with real sugar, natural flavour, and brown glass, it gets all the details right.

The DG in DG Genuine Jamaican Ginger Beer stands for Desnoes & Geddes, the makers of Red Stripe lager. Actually, DG started out in soft drinks and only later began brewing beer, so this might be a better candidate as a flagship product. In any case, it is a wonderful example of a Caribbean-style GB: cloudy with a fiery but smooth ginger bite. Made with Jamaican ginger extract (extra point for local ingredients) as well as natural and artificial flavours. Sweetened with high-fructose corn syrup—a concession, I suppose, to volume. Bottled in brown glass, but in a longneck bottle rather than the short bottle associated with Red Stripe. (Thanks to my brother Greg for sending a couple of these along.)

From the same brewer comes DG Old Jamaican Ginger Beer Twist. This one comes in a green glass bottle, the better to harmonise with the lime slices on the label. Quite a few GBs contain citrus flavour, but this one comes right out with it, and it's a refreshing difference. Still plenty spicy, as one would expect of a Jamaican GB. (Actually, my bottle says "Product of Canada", but it is bottled for a Jamaican company to their standards, so let's agree it's Jamaican.) No high-fructose corn syrup in this one; the label lists simply "sugar".

Dr. Brown's Original Ginger Ale is, as advertised, an "extra dry" DGA. Not a flavour standout, but it was one of the earliest kosher soft drinks. Easy to find in New York and Miami; elsewhere, try your nearest Jewish delicatessen. Natural ginger extract, either/or sweetening, green glass.

Dr. Tima Honey Ginger Ale is a DGA from California. And in case you missed the name, the honeycomb on the clear glass bottle's label highlights its claim to distinction, along with two textual reminders (both with exclamation points!) in addition to the ingredients listing. All natural, "from an old European recipe", this does have a bit of a citrus zing.

Empire Ginger Beer comes from the Empire Bottling Works in Bristol, Rhode Island. Made with pure cane sugar and "natural and/or artificial flavor extracts". The indecision strikes me as odd—perhaps it reflects seasonal availability of ingredients?—but this is a pretty good DGA. In a unique pale-green glass bottle, reminiscent in colour of some old Coke bottles.

Filbert's Old Time Quality Ginger Ale is distributed by the Filbert Root Beer Co. in Chicago. I hope their root beer is more distinctive. There's nothing really wrong with this one, but apart from its slightly darker colour, this is a garden-variety DGA. Sugar and/or corn sweetener—more indecision—with natural and artificial flavour in clear glass.

Jackson Ginger Beer is made by the Jackson Hole Soda Co. in Wyoming. Batch brewed with cane sugar and natural flavours, bottled in brown glass, all as nature intended. Pale, ever so slightly cloudy, good flavour without being noticeably hot. A mild GB, this might be a good stepping-stone for the GB-curious drinker more accustomed to DGAs.

I first bought Maine Root Ginger Brew, more or less out of desperation, on an occasion when my late lamented Bundaberg supplier was temporarily out of stock. I was very pleasantly surprised to discover that this Yankee GB was actually a worthy substitute. Brewed, as the name implies, using real ginger extract and cane sugar—in fact, extra points for using fair-trade certified organic cane sugar! Great cloudiness, fine carbonation, great spicy flavour. In green glass rather than brown, but then nothing's perfect.

One drink I couldn't round up in time for the binge, but will review from memory, is Old Tyme Ginger Beer. The pirate on the label serves as fair warning regarding the take-no-prisoners style of this GB. Hot! Hot! Hot! There is good flavour here as well as grab-the-back-of-the-throat heat, but it may not be accessible to those who prefer a less fiery brew. Work up to this one...

In Atlanta, Georgia, in 1885, a soft drink with purported health benefits was the original product of what later became a more diverse company, and eventually one of the world's most recognised brands. Not this one, however. Unlike its neighbour and contemporary, Coca-Cola, Red Rock Golden Ginger Ale has remained relatively obscure, and in fact disappeared for several decades before being revived. It's fortunate that Red Rock has returned, for it lives up to the slogan "Just the Right Bite!" Carbonated water, pure cane sugar, natural flavour. A very good GGA, nicely presented, as the clear glass bottle with painted label (style point) highlights the clear, deep amber colour.

Reed's Original Ginger Brew is a Jamaican-style GGA brewed (key word) in Los Angeles. As the label on the green glass bottle notes, it is all-natural, with 25% fruit juice (pineapple, lemon, and lime) as well as fructose and fresh ginger root. Unsurprisingly, this one has a distinct citrus character to it; otherwise it is a GGA with DGA leanings.

Reed's Premium Ginger Brew is, by comparison, a GGA leaning toward GB. Also in green glass, with similar ingredients (the ginger content is identical) except for the sweeteners: Canadian white clover honey and raw cane sugar. Again, the 25% juice content gives it a genuine citrus taste.

Big brother to Reed's Original and Reed's Premium (closer to Original than Premium) is Reed's Extra Ginger Brew, which adds more ginger (did you guess?) and again tweaks the sweetening formula: fructose and honey (no information on origin) in addition to the standard one-quarter juice. Hotter, but definitely a GGA and not a GB. Like its siblings, a good drink that nevertheless suffers somewhat in comparison to the genuine Caribbean GBs.

By the way, Reed's also offers several fruit-flavoured GGAs: Reed's Cherry Ginger Brew, Reed's Raspberry Ginger Brew, and Reed's Spiced Apple Ginger Brew. Juice content varies from one to the next (anywhere from 20% to 60%), as do the ginger content and sweetening formula, which to me indicates a craftsman's approach as opposed to blindly throwing in new flavours and changing the labels. It is difficult, however, to make direct comparisons with the more traditional flavours—like apples and oranges, if you'll forgive the obvious play on words.

Next up is Regatta Authentic Bermuda Stone Ginger Beer. Regatta has a zesty character with strong notes of ginger and secondary notes of citrus, apple and banana. The finish has a ginger bite without the burn. Does this sound a bit too stereotypically food-critic-y? Sorry, it's a direct quote from the label, easily the wordiest in the lot. The label also mentions the use of GB in the Dark 'n Stormy ("Bermuda's National Drink") and the Moscow Mule, alcoholic concoctions I won't be mentioning again; our purpose here is to see how our GBs stand on their own. This, however, Regatta does quite well. Traditional GB cloudiness, Caribbean-style flavour but with a bit less bite than the Jamaican versions. Fructose, natural ginger extracts in green glass bottle. (This is Damian's favourite, by the way.)

Saranac Ginger Beer is made in Utica, New York, by the Matt Brewing Company, founded in 1888 as the West End Brewing Company. West End survived Prohibition by switching from beer to soft drinks, so presumably this ginger beer looms large in the Matt Brewing's corporate identity. It's a good one, too, uniquely smooth—almost like a cross between a GB and a cream soda. High-fructose corn syrup, natural and artificial flavours, in brown glass.

Sioux City Ginger Beer might be better classified as a GGA: darker in colour and stronger in taste than a DGA, but not cloudy like a traditional GB. Made with high-fructose corn syrup and natural flavour. Not really a standout, but pleasant enough, and as the Sioux City brand is widely distributed it has the virtue of being easily obtainable. My primary suggestion, should anyone from Sioux City ever happen to read this, concerns not the drink but the packaging: Re-work the bird on the label! I think it's supposed to be an eagle, but it's awfully hard to tell...

Sprecher's Ginger Ale hails from Glendale, Wisconsin, and comes in a stout 16-oz. brown glass bottle (as opposed to the 12-oz. servings of the competition) with a penguin-in-hell motif on the label. Ooookay... I would re-classify this as a GB, pale and slightly cloudy—honestly so, as it's made with real ginger. The fire-brewing process gives Sprecher's a very nice, fine carbonation readily discernible from its pressurized-CO2 counterparts. Interestingly, Sprecher's seem to have hedged their bets on the sweetener, as this GB contains both high-fructose corn syrup (boo!) and raw Wisconsin honey (yea! and bonus point for local ingredients). A very good ginger drink, and one that I find popping up in more and more places, even somewhat out-of-the-way places.

Squamscot Golden Ginger Ale from Conner Bottling Works in New Hampshire is apparently a very local brand, difficult to find outside the Granite State—which is a shame, because like Saranac it is unusually smooth. Thanks again, Rocket Fizz! Cane sugar, natural and artificial flavours, in clear glass.

Thomas Kemper Ginger Peach, like the fruitier offerings from Reed's, defies easy comparison with most of the other entries. (I'm sure Kemper has a standard GA, but somehow or other I missed it.) But I don't want to dismiss it too easily, because it stands well on its own. Brewed with cane sugar, peach juice, northwestern honey, and natural flavour; bottled in brown glass. Certainly fruity, almost feminine, but the ginger doesn't get lost. [UPDATE: Kemper does indeed have a standard GA, again in brown glass with natural ingredients. Good, as expected.]

Vernors bills itself as "The Original Ginger Soda—a Michigan Original Since 1866", and is in fact the oldest surviving American brand, but was not actually the first commercial GA in the States. It is, however, fairly widely distributed and was a frequent New Year's Eve selection when I was younger. While I have heard that Vernors is available in glass bottles, I've only ever found it in aluminum cans; presentation suffers somewhat accordingly. Still, an interesting GGA, aged in oaken barrels for three years, and with a unique note of vanilla. Made with a combination of natural and artificial flavours, as well as the high-fructose corn syrup you'd expect of a mass-produced brand (now owned by Dr. Pepper/Snapple). [UPDATE: The glass bottle is not just a rumour; Rocket Fizz now carries it!]

Zuberfizz Rasberry Ginger Ale is made in Colorado by the Durango Soda Co., known mainly for cane-sugar sodas. Had I read the label carefully enough, this one would have been disqualified before purchase—not because of the fruit flavouring, but because it is a "zero calorie soda" sweetened with "ZSweet" (erythritol, described as "a natural sweetener" but evidently highly derived). I had a hard time getting past the ZSweet aftertaste, but will concede that the raspberry bouquet (natural flavours throughout) was rather more delicate than expected. Otherwise, the most notable quality (not apparent in brown glass) is the exceedingly pale, almost watery appearance. Might be someone's favourite drink...and they're welcome to it. I'll pass from now on.

The one major shortcoming of this first [now third] annual ginger binge is that it didn't include any drinks from England, the historic home of GB. With that caveat, however, some regional observations: Australia (Buderim, Bundaberg) and the Caribbean (DG in either formulation, Regatta, Barritts) have the most consistently excellent GBs, with a couple of American entries (Maine Root, Sprecher's) breaking into the top tier. If the quality of ginger drinks from the States seems spotty, it should be borne in mind that there may be selection bias at work—Australia and the Caribbean could have their share of mediocre drinks as well, but those are far less likely to be imported to the States. And GB is, after all, an acquired taste for Americans, who are far more accustomed to DGAs and may find the very notion of a spicy soft drink unsettling. (This may also go some way toward explaining the identity crises posed by GAs labeled as GBs and vice-versa.) Still, the States can lay claim to some very good GGAs (Americana, Blenheim, Goose Island, Red Rock, Vernors) in addition to the two GBs cited above.

Well, it's been fun. Time for some sleep, and possibly a shot of insulin. : ) A happy New Year to all...

And had I but one penny in the world, thou shouldst have it to buy ginger-bread.

— Shakespeare, Love's Labours Lost

Friday, December 30, 2011

Coming to a post office near you

It's been a while since my last stamp post, but here's another. The USPS will be issuing these beauties, with artwork by Robert Giusti, on 20 January 2012 (which just happens to be my birthday). Click to embiggen.

Okay, the peregrine looks a bit hobby-ish to my eyes, and the depiction of the osprey could have been a bit more flattering, but I suspect most falconers and hawkwatchers won't complain too much.

Saturday, December 24, 2011

Christmas Eve

Let the children have their night of fun and laughter. Let the gifts of Father Christmas delight their play. Let us grownups share to the full in their unstinted pleasures before we turn again to the stern task and the formidable years that lie before us, resolved that, by our sacrifice and daring, these same children shall not be robbed of their inheritance or denied their right to live in a free and decent world.

—Winston Churchill, 1941

Tea ceremony

She might think it's laziness,
Or another manifestation of eccentricity,
But to her credit she says nothing
As the tags from teabags accumulate on the counter.
Lemon tea when her throat was sore,
Orange and spice with Chinese takeout;
Masala chai to get to work in the morning,
Earl Grey to unwind at night.
Irish Breakfast to celebrate her heritage,
English Breakfast for mine;
Assam, Ceylon, Darjeeling.
Freed from their strings,
The little squares of coloured paper are like tickets,
Bringing the world to this little kitchen—
A world of sunny hillsides
& warm rain
& dark hands
& green leaves.
It might look like laziness,
But the tags are purpose-saved,
And one day I let them fly.
She doesn't like confetti
For the way it lingers,
Still turning up days or weeks or months later,
But her eyes sparkle as the tea tags flutter down about her head,
And she laughs in exasperated delight.
Of such small blessings
And such brief moments
Is a marriage in friendship made.

Sunday, December 4, 2011

photoblogging: NSOC meet, December 2011

For my friend, currently in California, who had to miss the snow-and-gravel cruise:

Vinyl makes them faster:
  • Rick's RS 2.5
  • Jesse's lifted WRX
  • Jon's swapped Impreza



Action shots:
  • Trevor's Alcyone SVX
  • Rick's RS 2.5 and Tank's Forester
  • Tank again
  • Not sure who this is, but that's not a mismatched bumper, it's masking tape




Going to the dogs:
  • Harper D.
  • Bayard wants to drive
  • Harp again, just because she's awesome



Saying goodbye to a friend:


Miscellaneous shots:
  • Nice wheels
  • Three Subarus in their natural habitat
  • One more of Harper, again because she's such an awesome dog


Thursday, November 24, 2011

A happy Thanksgiving

A purely personal note:

Bleak history notwithstanding (see below), I still believe Thanksgiving is very much worth observing, and should not necessarily be restricted to a single day in November. In my view, in fact, to give thanks is the only form of prayer that really has much validity or meaning. That's not to say, of course, that I never pray for strength or wisdom or luck, but when one asks for things from the powers that be...well, that can be a long wait for a ship that may not come. It seems to me, though, that anyone—regardless of their faith or spiritual traditions—may have cause to be grateful from time to time.

I wouldn't have believed it some months ago, but I find now that I have much to be thankful for. Most of the entries on my mental list are people, and many of them are readers of Flyover Country. I won't embarrass anyone by singling them out, and won't risk hurting anyone's feelings by leaving them out, so let me just say a general but very sincere thank-you to everyone who has offered their love and support, in person or at a distance.

Life is good, and looking better as time goes on, and I am truly thankful to be here.

Fifty-five years: a Thanksgiving story

Every American knows the story, or thinks so at any rate. In 1620, religious dissenters from England sail to the New World in a small ship, Mayflower, find a natural harbor, and establish the new Plymouth Colony, where they hope to build a new life and worship freely according to their precepts. Half of the unprepared colonists die the first winter. Local Indians take pity on the colony, teach them to plant and fish, the colony takes hold, a great feast of thanksgiving is held, etc., etc. And the story is true, as far as it goes. Of course, it doesn't usually go very far.

Plymouth Colony was not hacked out of the wilderness, but built on the site of an abandoned Indian village known as Patuxet. Epidemics from Europe had spread through the Native populations in what was to become known as New England, greatly reducing Native numbers and depopulating Patuxet entirely. The English Pilgrims did not encounter a single Native until March of 1621.

That first Native was Samoset, not a local but a visiting Abenaki from the coast of what is now Maine. He had met Europeans before, fishermen, and greeted the startled Pilgrims with the words, "Welcome, Englishmen." He soon returned with an acquaintance, named Squanto, who possessed greater fluency in English and was a local. Born and raised in Patuxet, he had been kidnapped some seven years earlier by an English slaver and sold into bondage in Spain. Ransomed by Spanish monks, Squanto eventually made his way to England, befriended a wealthy merchant who taught him the language, and later took passage to Newfoundland. Returning south to his home village, he found Patuxet deserted and took up residence among the Wampanoags at their principal town, a place called Montaup.

It was Squanto who eventually stayed at Patuxet/Plymouth, gave the Pilgrims both seed corn and instruction on how to grow it, and shared his skills in hunting and fishing. It was also Squanto who introduced the English leader, John Carver, to the sachem of the Wampanoags: Usamequin, better known as Massasoit.

Massasoit was a man faced with a dilemma. Beset by disease and therefore weakened militarily, the Wampanoags and their neighbors had been losing ground to another local nation, the Narragansetts. But Squanto, who had lived amongst the whites in Europe, suggested that an alliance with Carver's Pilgrims might help the Wampanoags restore the balance of power. So Massasoit and Carver struck a treaty, each pledging to support the other if attacked by a third party.

With the successful harvest of 1621 came a three-day celebration, attended by all the surviving Pilgrims and about ninety of the Wampanoags. There was feasting (probably more venison than turkey, plus corn and other produce), prayer, footraces, wrestling matches, and quite possibly lacrosse games. The first Thanksgiving of legend...

Alas, the harmonious relations were not to last. Protected by the treaty with the Wampanoags, and with its food supply secured, the Plymouth Colony expanded over the years. Many Wampanoags were not entirely thrilled with the further concessions of land made by Massasoit. Worse, the colonists increased in arrogance as they increased in number. They were less interested in freedom of religion as an ideal than in freedom to exercise their religion, and impose it on their Native neighbors.

Massasoit died in 1662, and was succeeded as sachem by his son Wamsutta, known to the English colonists as Alexander. Wamsutta was far more skeptical and far less patient with the colonists than Massasoit had been, and after a year or so as sachem he was abruptly summoned to Plymouth by the Pilgrims. He fell ill, and died on his way back home to Montaup; many Wampanoags believed (and many of their descendants still do) that he had been poisoned.

Wamsutta was in turn succeeded by his younger brother Metacom; his English appellation was King Philip. Like Alexander, Philip was arrested and hauled off to Plymouth—several times—but apparently was clever enough to avoid being poisoned. While he cooperated with the colonists just enough to maintain his autonomy, he secretly began to organize resistance to the English, approaching even traditional Wampanoag enemies to build a coalition against the whites.

When, in 1675, the English hanged three Wampanoags, open hostilities broke out. The first engagements were spontaneous, taking even Philip by surprise, and soon the war spread beyond Massachusetts throughout New England. Settlers panicked, and even "accultured" Indians who had converted to Christianity were under suspicion; many were imprisoned in what amounted to concentration camps. Even the Narragansetts were drawn into the war, on the side of their former enemies the Wampanoags, after English settlers attacked a neutral Narragensett town and massacred its inhabitants.

Despite their early successes, the tide soon turned against the by-now outnumbered and more lightly armed Natives. In April of 1676, Canonchet, sachem of the Narragansetts, was captured and executed by an English firing squad. Soldiers captured Philip's wife and son in August of 1676; they were condemned by the Pilgrim clergy in Plymouth and sold into slavery in Bermuda. Shortly thereafter, Philip himself was killed an a brief fight at Montaup, his home village and long the center of Wampanoag power. That power no longer existed: by the end of "King Philip's War", fifty-five years after Massasoit and John Carver celebrated "the first Thanksgiving", almost all of the Native people in New England had been killed, sold into slavery, or exiled to Canada.

Saturday, October 29, 2011

NFA field meet, October '11

Not a typical meet, as warm weather and other factors prevented us from doing any actual hunting last weekend. We kited a couple of the falcons, did some manning and creance work with new hawks, and otherwise kicked back. I'll remember this meet for archery, knife-throwing, and Chinese checkers as much as anything. (Also the sugar- and creamer-packet fight with Kelly.) It was good to be back at the Schneidereit place after too many years away; good also to see that Ivan has a beautiful family and that this piece of land will remain a treasured family ranch for at least another generation.

Photos follow...















"Give Me Something"

Monday, October 24, 2011

Unexpected

The eyes of the doe are perfect.
Large, luminous, liquid, lovely,
they reflect the world through which she walks
and yet do not reflect the world's nature,
for they are perfect,
and the world is not.
The eyes are pools of beauty,
and even deeper is the spirit behind.
The spirit knows things the doe cannot.

Her sistren are apt to be taken down
by those who speed through the world unmindful
of their impact on the gentle and the sensitive
and the beautiful.
But the spirit guides her clear.
The wolves are long gone from these parts,
the cougars barely a rumour,
but never having seen them, she picks her way through the woods
still aware.
No way to tell, looking at those eyes
brimming with innocence and wisdom,
how many winters she's seen,
or if she's seen winter at all.
The spirit has seen them all.

And yet even the spirit can be taken by surprise.

Cupid is not flitting around
flashing his pink bottom at the world
and making the woods ring with childish laughter.
Cupid is up a tree,
quiet,
with paint on his face
and strips of rags hanging from his clothing
that move like leaves in the autumn wind.
And wary as she is
of wolf and cougar and all the hazards of the world,
not everything can be planned for.
And one day she will stand just so,
and the arrow may find its mark.