Uncanny Valley

This area is a combination of the public Coronado Butterfly Preserve and the private Ellwood Main Monarch Butterfly Grove. The butterflies are in the latter (because that’s where the trees are), but the best way to get there is through the former. I’m not sure why they made a public preserve that isn’t a good habitat, but it’s a start. The private part is doing OK for now, as it’s still free and open, and it has the eucalyptus trees the caterpillars like to eat. I had heard the young ones only ate milkweed because its what has the toxins the butterflies need for defense, but I guess once they encountered the non-native and fragrant trees they decided they worked just as well.

So you may be thinking this is not that amazing. You’ll walk through the wood and see a few butterflies and they’re pretty and all. Then you see a few more. You look up and they are fluttering between the top branches like they are relaying messages between trees. That’s when you see a huge clump of animals huddled together for warmth. They look like dead leaves at first, but then you realise, those are all butterflies. You look around and see more and more: They’re everywhere. When you stop moving, you can actually hear them. It sounds like leaves rustling, but there is no wind. Truly a spectacle. I tried to get audio of the flapping, but it was to soft to record. I did get some other animals near the marshy bit.

You have to go in the winter, and December through February is best. It was a bit chilly when I went, but the critters didn’t seem to mind. A neat thing about their huge migration is not that they are one of the few insect species to migrate, but that each butterfly only makes it part way. They only live a few weeks from egg to adult, and so a caterpillar that hatches in winter never sees the summer home. How then, do the butterflies keep coming back to the same spot every year when noone alive remembers being there? That is indeed the mystery.

This is a 5 inch gauge railway in the Oakland hills. Each car is big enough for two adults to sit next to each other. The views getting there and on the ride are great. The ride is pretty much a there-and-back trip of about 2 km or 12 minutes. Most of the riders will children and families but my sister and I enjoyed it anyways. Though one mom was so eager to ride that she threw her kid on before the train stopped. Note that the train waits at the station for about 5 minutes between trips. Anyway, here’s a sound snapshot of the trip.

While you wait to board, you can walk down the trail and see a smaller-gauge railyard run by Golden Gate Live Steamers. You can also see much of the track from the ride.

I had heard there was a memorial to the members of the rail club who died in WWII near the tunnel, but I didn’t see it. If you know anything about it, let me know.

Joshua Norton, an otherwise normal businessman in 19th century San Francisco one day became emperor. I don’t think there was a coronation or anything, but it worked out well because the His Imperial Majesty’s business interests had just taken a swan dive. There was, however, an imperial proclamation printed in many San Francisco papers on 17 September 1859 declaring Norton I emperor.

His Imperial Majesty was much esteemed the city, wandering around his domain in a blue and gold suit with a feather in his hat. Many citizens would pay for His Imperial Majesty’s meals, drinks, and even lodging. In return, Emperor Norton made decrees calling for the dissolution of congress and for the creation of a bridge connecting San Francisco and Oakland. I hear word that finally the Bay Bridge is to be renamed in his honor.

Every year, people still come here to celebrate His Imperial Majesty’s birthday on 7 January. Or thereabouts. Noone actually knows his actual birthdate.

Around the grave are the graves of other emperors and empresses. I’m not sure what their deal is, but E Clampus Vitus, a shadowy absurdist brotherhood what organizes the birthday fests.

To get to the grave you can get a map in the main office. His Imperial Majesty is in the Southwest of the cemetery, in section H. You will see a gravestone with a large ball on top. Next to that is the grave of the widowed Empress, and behind that is His Imperial Majesty’s stone.

In the 19th century a boy stumbled upon what seemed to be the metaphorical X marking the spot. I do not want to go all into it, as the story has been told many times before much better than I could. To make it short though, they started digging. After a while, they hot something wooden, but it was just a row off planks. They pressed on, and again, more planks, then coconut fibers. Maybe a pirate of the Caribbean was here? Then they hit something new. This must be it, and then they go to sleep to finish tomorrow. Next morning, the pit is full of water. Being on a island, there really isn’t anywhere to pump the water to.

They still don’t know what is down there. If it’s nothing, someone went though a lot of trouble to put people through a lot of trouble for nothing. Many people of bravado and grit have tried to recover the treasure and have failed. I feel if only some archaeologist were to come here and test out some new technique or something we’d find it. I mean this is the ultimate proving ground for that sort of thing. If I had the Archaeomatic 5000 (patent pending) I’d be there in a flash to prove how awesome it is. If it can find that, think about what it can do with your car keys!

At this point, however, there is no public access to the island. That may change soon with the new owners of the island, but for now, the only access is on Explore Oak Island Day.

Photo courtesy of David Van Vugt.

Back in the day, I X-ed my hands up like a good straightedger. I still keep my edge (thought I hardly proselytize), so I have to admit that I am one of the few who thinks this is not a bad idea. Oktoberfest has become so one-dimensional (especially in the U.S.), being reduced to yet another excuse to drink. Oktoberfest is not a celebration of beer, Bavarians just like beer. The fest should be about more, especially when it is celebrated outside of Germany.

Cullman County is a dry county, so this event was not meant as a thumb-on-the-nose for drinkers. Its intention is mainly to celebrate German heritage. The town’s founder in fact was a German refugee. Not that I think that making a family-friendly alternative to things would be a bad motive, but that may help explain what sounds like an oxymoron to many of you.

Ok, so now that that’s out of the way, you are asking, so what happens in an eight-day Oktoberfest without beer? Well, there is German food, live polka music, and polka dancing. There are also tours of the local graveyard, dirndl and lederhosen fashion show, and a wiener dog race. I think the last one almost deserves its own page. And to wash it all down, the festbrau is a sparkling (soft) apple cider called OktoberZest.

I hear there are other dry Oktoberfests out there, like at the dry campus of the University of Utah, but I don’t have much real info on that.

Every year there is a festival for a flying monster that terrorizes the West Virginia countryside. Originally it was just a history and genealogy festival, but the town changed it a little after people saw that movie and started visiting.

Now, seeing how my name is Nessie you can imagine I have a fair amount of knowledge concerning cryptids. From what I hear, the book what was made into the movie made a lot up, and is generally shunned by any researcher with their salt. That isn’t to say that this event should also be avoided. Sure, there are many folk in jokey costumes, but you wouldn’t expect them to go chasing around people’s cars and scaring the frass out of them, would you?

A festival dedicated to duct tape by the makes of Duck Tape. There will be sculptures, crafts classes, fashion, a parade, live music, and fireworks. I wish I lived nearby and then I could dump those gagged and bound bodies there and none would be the wiser… Just kidding.

At the dawn of the lunar New Year in San Francisco is a puzzle-solving adventure that will show you many under-explored sites and sights of the city. First one forms a team, picks a punny name, and then shows up on the day of the hunt. Then teams receive a packet of clues along with a street map. Teams must then figure out the clues and walk/run to various locations and answer a question to prove that they went to the spot. There are three levels of difficulty, each of which has different locations.

I’ve done this twice and had a lot of fun each time, and each time I learn something new. It usually is scheduled for just after the rainy season, but this does not always work out for the driest.

Image courtesy of Daza

The hunt for 2006 is on Saturday 11 February.

This stoplight in Syracuse is upside-down, with the green of the Irish on top. The light is on Tompkins Street where Milton Avenue becomes Burnet Park drive. Tipperary Hill is the Irish neighborhood on the West side of Sorrycuse. Supposedly it is the only upside-down traffic signal in the country. I had a neighbor who was colour-blind and always had to be extra careful he didn’t end up at this light. Especially since the warning signs are pictorial representations of the upside down light, with no extra warnings for colour-blind folks.

Why is the light upside down you ask? Well green is for Ireland, and red is for Britain. Red on top of green wouldn’t do, so the locals kept throwing rocks at the light until it was switched in 1925. There is a small park at Northeast corner with some statues of rock-throwers sculpted by Dexter Benedict.

Call me a self-hater, but this is the best we could do? One light in a small city in the middle of nowhere?

A petrified troll lurks under the North end of the George Washington/Aurora Bridge in Seattle, still clutching a car in its huge hand. The car apparently used to have a time capsule in it, but that since has been removed. One can walk on and around the beast with no signs to dissuade you, nor is there any great danger in doing so. The sculpture is a public art project created in 1990 by Steve Badanes, Will Martin, Donna Walter and Ross Whitehead.