Revisiting Street View Extremes

On August 31, 2014 · 0 Comments

Time moves forward, an unstoppable force. We all must face that awful truth as we age. On a happier thought, that allowed me to revisit a Twelve Mile Circle article from nearly five years ago and see if it remained true. I concluded in Streetview Beats a Deadhorse from February 2010 that the northernmost Google Street View image correlated to a spot at 70.242777 degrees north latitude in the North Slope Borough of Alaska. The Dalton Highway went no farther, terminating at a restricted checkpoint of the Prudhoe Bay oil fields.

Forward to today, the final day of meteorological summer for the northern hemisphere 2014. Had the honorific shifted? I established simple rules and expanded the search to all four cardinal directions. The site must have been visited by the Street View car, not by someone aboard a ship or carrying a camera backpack. That eliminated Antarctica, Svalbard and various isolated South Pacific islands.


Nordkapp, Norway


North Cape
North Cape by Tor Even Mathisen, on Flickr
via Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 2.0 Generic (CC BY-NC-SA 2.0) license

The northernmost crown had been stolen! It now shifted to 71.169475 degrees north, where the Street View car reached Nordkapp, Norway. All end-of-the–line Street View images were rather boring so I posted photos from Flickr instead. I still included a link for each entry for curious 12MC audience members though (for example, Street View).

Apparently many people were drawn to Nordkapp as a tourist attraction especially in recent decades because it was considered the northernmost point in Europe. I wouldn’t have the heart to tell them they were all wrong. I think it would be legitimate to say, in their defense, that it was as far north in Europe as anyone could conveniently drive a car. European route E69 provided a well-maintained road right up to the the Nordkapp doorstep where tourists could disembark at a newly refurbished visitors center and snap lots of photos memorializing their accomplishment.

Interestingly, "Nordkapp is a Norwegianized form of the English language name North Cape." A 16th century English explorer searching for a safe route through the Northeast Passage named it, and the designation stuck.


Cochrane, Chile


Casa mate
Casa mate by Claudio Jofré Larenas, on Flickr
via Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.0 Generic (CC BY-NC-ND 2.0) license

Cochrane, Chile, extended to -47.258816 degrees south and claimed the southernmost image title (Street View). I fully expect that position to change someday. It’s only a matter of time before Street View arrives in Ushuaia, Argentina or Cabo de Hornos, Chile along the Beagle Channel of Tierra del Fuego (map). For today at least, Cochrane held the title.

Cochrane also seemed an odd choice for a place named in a Spanish-speaking area, and like Nordkapp demonstrated that British ship captains sailed far and wide across the planet. Cochrane referred to Thomas Cochrane, 10th Earl of Dundonald, from Scotland. He sailed relentlessly during the first part of the 19th century, experiencing one adventure after another, and getting into and out of trouble repeatedly. He was an archetype of the swashbuckler. Numerous authors drew upon Cochrane as inspiration for their fictional characters thereafter. Cochrane, the town, honored its namesake’s role as Admiral of the Chilean Navy, a position he also filled later for Brazil and Greece in addition to his years of service in the British Navy. The guy got around.

We should be thankful that the Street View car made it down to Cochrane. The Chilean southern highway (Carretera Austral) didn’t connect Cochrane and other southern towns to the larger road network until 1988, and even today "the trip involves gravel, winding curves and unpredictable weather."

The biggest tourist attraction — other than the abundant natural scenery of various large parks in the area — seemed to be the oddly-shaped Casa Mate.


East Cape, New Zealand


east cape lighthouse
east cape lighthouse by Christopher
via Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.0 Generic (CC BY-NC-ND 2.0) license

Easternmost and westernmost didn’t have the same appeal during my review because of the arbitrary nature of a prime meridian. I won’t spend as much time discussing them. A prime meridian could exist anywhere. Once again British sea power influenced events and Greenwich became a worldwide standard. Nonetheless I examined the situation for the sake of completeness.

East Cape, the easternmost point of New Zealand’s primary islands, had Street View coverage up to the farthest point an automobile could travel (Street View). It would be difficult to ever improve upon 178.544347 degrees east. Images extended all the way to a car park where visitors could then hike to the actual point.

A 22km, mostly unsealed, no-exit road from Te Araroa takes you to the most Easterly point on mainland New Zealand. The historic East Cape lighthouse stands 154 metres above sea level and is accessed by a walking track of some 700 steps – worth it for the views at the top.


Mana Point, Kauai, Hawaii, USA


201401_Kauai-PMRF-Barking-Sands_401
201401_Kauai-PMRF-Barking-Sands_401 by Thad Westhusing, on Flickr
via Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.0 Generic (CC BY-NC-ND 2.0) license

Street View provided extensive coverage of the Hawaiian islands so it was only a matter of finding the westernmost image on the westernmost major island, Kauai. I noticed images from minor outlying islands along the archipelago, however, those didn’t involve automobiles or road networks so I discarded them. I settled on Mana Point on Kauai at 159.779397 degrees west (Street View).

The area was known for two things: surfing and missiles. It was the site of Pacific Missile Range Facility Barking Sands:

…the world’s largest instrumented multi-environmental range capable of supported surface, subsurface, air, and space operations simultaneously. There are over 1,100 square miles of instrumented underwater range and over 42,000 square miles of controlled airspace.

The updated Street View extremes delivered viewers to some interesting places. I wonder where they will lead another five years from now?

Sunrise

On August 21, 2014 · 3 Comments

Strange queries land on Twelve Mile Circle. Recently I noticed search engines referencing questions in the form of "does the sun rise (or set) in [name a location]." and sending them to the site. Since I’m pretty sure those were daily events for most of us except perhaps at extreme latitudes during very specific times of the year, I wondered what the queries actually meant. People didn’t seem to be searching for a trick question or answer. Seriously, some of them were like, "Does the sun rise in Chicago." I wanted to scream, YES OF COURSE THE SUN RISES IN CHICAGO! WHY WOULDN’T THE SUN RISE IN CHICAGO?!? I may, in fact, have said it out loud, or at least muttered it.

Maybe they really wanted to know the time of sunrise? Maybe it was an over-the-water thing, which is where the queries landed on 12MC? Maybe I somehow missed a grand catastrophe this morning and the sun won’t actually rise in Chicago tomorrow?

That was an awfully long tangent to explain that the sequence made me start thinking about places called Sunrise.

Sunrise, Florida


View from our seats at BankAtlantic Center
View from our seats at BankAtlantic Center by Elliot, on Flickr
via Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic (CC BY 2.0) license

I recalled the existence of Sunrise from a time when I had family in South Florida and I would travel down there to visit occasionally. I didn’t remember anything other than the name; I knew nothing of Sunrise specifically. Nevertheless it came to mind during this exercise so it merited further exploration.

Why the hockey stadium? It turned out that the Florida Panthers National Hockey League team used Sunrise as its home base, at the BB&T Center in particular (formerly the BankAtlantic Center, and before that the Office Depot Center, and even earlier the National Car Rental Center and the Broward County Civic Arena, and probably something else completely different if someone reads this page a year from now). I know the Florida Panthers joined the NHL more than twenty years ago, and yet, hockey in Florida just seemed wrong. It didn’t hit the level of weirdness of the curling club that played at the Panther’s practice facility in nearby Coral Spring that I discussed in Sports Facilities I Never Imagined. Still, it was odd. Who knew South Florida was such a hotbed for winter sports? Maybe that was the point. People get tired of endless heat and sunshine.


Sunrise, Minnesota



Multiple Sunrises

Few things in life could be better than a quadruple sunrise. It would be a wonderful way to start each and every day. In eastern Minnesota, the Township of Sunrise had a village of Sunrise, located on Sunrise Road next to the Sunrise River. Paradise.

Step a block away from Sunrise Road, and one could experience quintuple sunrise by going to the Sunrise Community Museum. Of course a motivated traveler could go even more extreme by visiting the museum at dawn, at the actual sunrise, and I guess that would make it a sextuple sunrise.

I think I’m getting a headache. Maybe I need to get out of the sun.


Sunrise Beach, Missouri


Lake Sunset - Lake of the Ozarks
Lake Sunset – Lake of the Ozarks by Phil Roussin, on Flickr
via Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.0 Generic (CC BY-NC-ND 2.0) license

Sunrise Beach seemed to be a nice little resort community found at Lake of the Ozarks, according to my quick search of the Intertubes.

In the 1920′s and early 1930′s, Sunrise Beach and surrounding communities consisted of nothing more than vast areas of timber and brush. After the construction of Bagnell Dam by Union Electric, several communities sprang up around the lake, primarily due to the beauty inherent in this area. Sunrise Beach, located on the west side of the lake, was one of those communities…

Ironically, the best photograph I could find of Sunrise Beach was taken at sunSET.

I discovered additional English-languages Sunrises in other parts of the world, although little practical information about them.


Sunrise Beach in Queensland, Australia
Sunrise Beach, Queensland, Australia
Photo courtesy of "John of Sydney" (see comment below)

  • Taman Sunrise, Kluang Johor, Malaysia (map)
  • Sunrise-On-Sea, Eastern Cape, South Africa (map)
  • Sunrise Beach, Queensland, Australia (map)

Too bad I didn’t know how to say sunrise in other languages. I’m sure I could have found more.

Geo-BREWities

On February 4, 2014 · 7 Comments

My interests collide every once in awhile. I’ve mentioned my unnatural compulsion to visit breweries several times before so an overlap shouldn’t come as a surprise to regular readers. This time, an industry publication mentioned a beer dinner where courses were paired with beverages from Oxbow Beer in Maine. A brewery named for an oxbow — how intriguing — I do have a thing for oxbows. I wondered if I could find that aforementioned oxbow.



Where’s the Oxbow in Newcastle, Maine, USA?

That led me to ponder the possibility of other geo-oddity-themed breweries which I conveniently decided to call geo-brewities. I turned to the Brewers Association, an organization representing "small and independent American brewers" for a complete list. They referenced 2,722 brewing facilities in the United States at the end of 2013, an increase of nearly 400 establishments in a single year.

I dug into the list — even though it was dated 2012 and had since grown — since I figured I’d still find plenty of suitable examples. I’ll mention a few favorites uncovered while noting that many more had to be cut from my review because of space limitations. Also, I examined only names. I’ll let others judge taste and quality. That matters in the real world. It didn’t matter for this exercise.

Then I returned to Oxbow Beer and found an article in The Lincoln County News

The brewery is run out of a converted barn at Masland’s home on Rt. 215 in Newcastle. Oxbow’s beer, their name, their logo – an owl carrying a keg – and their motto – loud beer from a quiet place – are all inspired by the rural location.

This led me to wonder whether the brewery name reflected an actual oxbow lake. It may have been named for a genuine oxbow, like what a farmer would hang around the neck of an ox to pull a plow. I’d already become completely cross-eyed reviewing a couple of thousand brewery names by that point, with commensurate emotional investment, so I continued with my quest for geo-brewities. After all, this effort could form the backbone of a brewery-related geo-oddity driving tour someday, ignoring the obvious distances involved. That’s how I rationalized it.



Stateline Brewery, South Lake Tahoe, California, USA

Twelve Mile Circle loves borders and the notion of Stateline Brewery in South Lake Tahoe, California seemed promising. Their logo even incorporated the California-Nevada border within its design. Only a single building, an Embassy Suites Hotel, stood between Stateline Brewing and the actual state line. Impressive.

Then I spotted Latitude 33 Brewing Company in San Diego, California (map). Did someone mention latitude? Why yes, that’s another common 12MC topic. I was about to bust them when I measured the actual geographic placement of 33° North and it fell about ten miles south of the brewery (which was at 33° 8′ 10.46″ or thereabouts). However the brewers already knew that and posted their perspective, preventing geo-geek nitpickers such as myself from bothering them.

The obvious answer is, of course, that the 33rd parallel runs smack dab through the heart of San Diego County, and our brewing facility is just a hair north of being directly on the line. But there’s actually more to it than that. If you look back through the history books you’ll find the 33rd latitude has been right there in some of the world’s most significant events… Distilled to one word, Latitude 33 is “Adventure”

Good save, Latitude 33. Good save.



Confluence Brewing, Des Moines, Iowa, USA

Confluences don’t have a separate tag on 12MC although they have appeared as a regularly recurring topic. I prepared myself to be disappointed by the explanation offered by Confluence Brewing from Des Moines, Iowa, when it noted, "The brewery is itself a confluence of John and Ken’s love for Iowa and craft beer." Looking at its location a little more closely, the brewery can’t be more than maybe a mile-or-so from the confluence of the Raccoon and Des Moines Rivers. That was a pivotal spot in the city’s history. The State Historical Society of Iowa said, "The City of Des Moines developed from a small frontier fort at the confluence… ", and thus the city would not have existed without them. I’ll bet the river confluence inspired the name of the brewery at least a little even if I couldn’t find it stated explicitly.

I’ve also noted elevations on a number of occasions. Breweries seemed enamored of elevation too, albeit choosing names that tended to favor specific landmarks, mountains or peaks. Only one bucked the trend in a fascinating way, Elevation 66 Brewing in El Cerrito, California (map). The Examiner said Elevation 66 was "named after El Cerrito’s altitude" That may be true for the city overall or perhaps at some key location, however, I dropped the brewery coordinates into an altitude finder and it listed 8.759 metres / 28.738 feet. What’s a few feet amongst friends? I still applauded the effort.



Dry County Brewing, Spruce Pine, North Carolina, USA

I focus often on counties and Dry County Brewing Company sounded rather paradoxical. How could one brew in a dry county? Wikipedia came to the rescue: "Mitchell County was one of the three dry counties in North Carolina, along with Graham and Yancey, but in March, 2009, after much controversy, the Town of Spruce Pine approved beer, wine, and ABC store sales." It didn’t take long for a brewery to fill that void either — it looked like Dry County opened in late 2010 or early 2011 — nestled safely within a wet enclave, and circled entirely by an otherwise prohibitionist county.

Roads and associated infrastructure? Of course I talk about those. Bridge and Tunnel Brewery in Queens (Maspeth), New York, may not have been named for a specific bridge or a specific tunnel. The name seemed to refer to the whole set of them in New York City: "because it’s the bridges and tunnels that unite this city, not divide it." Nonetheless the nearest bridge and tunnel into Manhattan were probably the Queensboro Bridge and the Midtown Tunnel. The NYC contingent of 12MC readers would have better insight into that calculation. This was a nanobrewery, even smaller than a microbrewery, that produced only 1.5 barrels (47.25 gallons / 179 litres) in each batch. I couldn’t find a location other than that generic Maspeth placement though (map). I guessed maybe the brewery was so small that it didn’t have a permanent facility.


Breweries with Coincidental Connections to Specific 12MC articles

I could also make a case to add any of the following breweries to a beer and geo-oddity driving tour. Each had a tenuous serendipitous alignment with an article published previously on Twelve Mile Circle.

Now I’m thirsty. Cheers!

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12 Mile Circle:
An Appreciation of Unusual Places
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