Good day to be by the chimney

I get asked a lot how in the world I can post so many photos and babble so much. I think to the old adage: “How do we do it? Volume!” Seriously, though…I carry my camera everywhere and I know where to look. This is the convergence of those two things.

This lone chimney sits on a little parcel of land south of Bismarck and is for sale if you’re interested. I’ve driven past it several times, even taken a few photos, but none of them really thrilled me. Today I think I got a slightly more interesting photo. I like the starker shadows of the fall sun, the golden grass and leaves, topped off by the dark blue skies (thanks to a polarizer filter on the lens).

The “volume” I joke about is that sometimes I’ll get several really cool shots, and just hang on to them for a while. For instance, I have lots of Fallen Farms photos (and haven’t posted any in a while…hm…) and fall foliage. I like to share them, but sometimes I just pace myself because I’m too busy being a daddy and a freelance video guy to get out with the camera on a regular basis.

Bismarck has so many places like this. Sometimes they’re better than others, and it is a matter of being there at just the right moment. These days I’m so busy I can’t begin to explain, but I take tiny moments here and there to work in a photo where I can. It may be on the way to work or back home, in between errands, or I might get up early or stay up late. But when you’ve got the photo bug, you make time!

One place to go for fall foliage …and ice, in a few months

I took some time after the University of Mary homecoming game today to venture over to the Missouri River Natural Area trail. It’s tucked next to the Interstate in Mandan, near the refinery exit. To get to the trail, however, one must go into Mandan from the east and turn right by the Bonanza restaurant. The road goes east along I-94’s westbound lane, takes a sharp left, and passes some residential neighborhoods before snaking beneath the Interstate. Right after going under the highway, turn right down the short gravel road and you’re at the trailhead. I find this the better end of the trail from which to start, since the other end involves navigating around the Memorial Bridge construction.

Next to the trailhead is a little inlet that looks quite manmade (and quite old). My friend Joe told me that this is one place where people used to drag ice out of the river way back when. It’s hard to see in this pic since I sized it down so much, but there a bunch of aged wooden pilings along the rocks as well as some metalwork and cables protruding from the dirt. I’ll get back to his part later.

I was worried that I was going to miss all the colors, but that hasn’t happened. I had a birthday party to attend today so I barely got into the trail before I had to work my way back out, but here’s a sample of some of the leaves that are turning from green to gold. The red ones I saw all looked pretty ratty, so I hope to get photos of them later on.

Back to the ice ramp. This is a shot from water level at the point where the pilings stick up from the rocks. I’m sure this was a dock of some sort, or perhaps just a platform. Obviously nature didn’t pile all these rocks here, so this area was definitely used for something in the distant past.

Here’s one of the large cables still protruding from the dirt. Oh, if only they could talk! I am going to have to poke around and see what exactly transpired at this place. Either that or I’ll ask someone who knows what they’re doing to find out for me!

There you have it…a great idea if you want a nice walk with fall colors all around you. There will be plenty of birds and deer and stuff, too! But don’t wait too long…it seems that the truly colorful part of autumn lasts about a week here in Bismarck-Mandan!

Well…again

In my travels around the Bismarck-Mandan area, I have now had two occasions where I’m surprised by a well sticking out of the middle of a wheat field. I’m no farm kid, but it seems a little odd to me. Why would a hand-pump well be sticking out of a seemingly arbitrary spot in the middle of a field? Isn’t it a pain cutting around it? I guess not.

This is a different well from the one I spotted north of Bismarck early this summer. Both are logged in my GPS in case there are some dramatic skies that could benefit from being photographed with a well in the foreground!

Good faith effort

It’s a motorcyclist’s – or nice car owner’s – least favorite time of year: chip seal season. While I still consider it a dubious approach toward street maintenance, Bismarck and Mandan insist on coating the streets with gravel, spread over an adhesive layer of tar, on all city roads. Doing so means a portion of the summer where we must dodge patches of loose gravel on the roadways, at least until they come by to sweep up the excess.

Last year I made a passioned plea to the Bismarck City Commission to re-examine their policies regarding chip seal application. In the 90’s I had a nasty encounter with this stuff, spread SIX INCHES deep, in a corner that was not only unlit, but at the crest of a hill as well. I still bear nasty scars from that instance, and even some ground-down bones as well. I was leading a group of riders who all had passengers, but thankfully they saw me hit the gravel and were just that little bit more prepared for it. I was also the only one decked out in safety apparel, although falling on chip seal is like falling on a meat grinder! Thankfully, we had a nurse, a doctor, and a surgical technician among us that night…it was quite nasty.

Back to the point. After last year’s City Commission meeting, I was approached by Keith Hunke. For those of you who don’t know, he’s from the Public Works department. He was interested in what I had to say and agreed with the Commissioners that a better job of signage could be done. I think he’s kept his word; I’ve seen plenty of signs this year, and they look brand new. I also understand that it’s not always possible to mark every patch of chip seal from every possible approach. With that in mind, I’m throwing Keith and the Commission a big thumbs-up for the effort to make our streets safer during this construction period.

I guess there’s still grant money available out there

In the spirit of the Thunderbirds eyesore and the big shiny white whatchamacallit along River Road, it looks we’ve got another monstrosity being assembled in Pioneer Park. Either someone’s a really good grant writer, or we have some skewed priorities in the Parks & Recreation department. The good news: we’ve reached the end of the path, unless they decided to work their way southward in the future!

I know it’s probably a matter of personal taste, although I haven’t encountered anyone who likes the giant blue monstrosity down by the Grant Marsh bridge. Some may argue that you can’t put a price tag on cultural “enrichment” but it looks like somebody found a way. The question is, who’s paying the bill? If we’ve got money for this kind of thing, perhaps we could work on lighting or other more usable projects along the path.

Blockhead goes to the blockhouse

Friday night I ran to Fort Lincoln with a friend to see what the skies might do at sunset. The answer: pretty much nothing. Well, it was worth a try! On the walk back from the northeast blockhouse, I did see some rays streaking across the sky, so I grabbed this quick shot. Otherwise the night was a bust, photographically speaking, but it gave me a chance to go piloting around Mandan. Both of us are former Mandan residents from long ago, so it was fun to swap stories and remark how much the city has changed.

This is the first time all year I’ve gone to Fort Lincoln and actually been able to drive up the hill to the blockhouses! I was beginning to think they never unlock the gates to the road going up the hill. By the way, they’ve cut in a bunch of trails leading into the park. They’re suitable for mountain biking and hiking, and will not be paved. I have to take my bike down there and explore them yet this year!

Memorial Bridge safety concerns

All this talk of bridge safety these days reminds me of some photos I took for a post about the Memorial Bridge a while back. While repairs were underway for a couple of the piers, I spotted this nasty business along the west end of the bridge:

This is the stuff that they were NOT fixing. I don’t know if this has been addressed since Lunda fenced off the area surrounding the bridge, but it makes me nervous every time I take my family across it. Sure, they fixed the parts of the piers over the river which were turning to rubble, but even a cursory inspection of the rest of the bridge gave me some pretty scary photos.

The new bridge is expected to open in late 2009 if I remember correctly…hopefully they’re taking care of the old bridge in the mean time!

They’ll need a crane

A little song reference for you there. While I was out taking photos of large birds and the May cover photo of the Dakota Beacon (and collecting ticks) I came upon this wreckage. It’s visible from the Expressway Bridge as well as Fox Island Road, and looks pretty old. I doubt it had anything to do with the construction of the bridge, but perhaps it was at one time involved in the rock wall built to control flooding. In any case, it’s rotting away silently in the grass along the Missouri River. Whoever owns it should probably take the batteries out and other caustic pollutants, but it looks like it’s become part of the habitat otherwise.

Endangered view


As Bismarck and Mandan grow steadily northward, a lot of really scenic riverside views are becoming history. This view, for example, will likely not survive 2007. It’s on a hill just north of Bismarck, where a neighborhood is being built at this very moment. I’m not the only one who knows of this spot; in fact, someone had put some old patio furniture there last time I ventured out there!

This looks like the fencepost at the end of Double Ditch park, but it’s actually overlooking Pioneer Park. The doubletrack trail leading up to it is still intact, but will likely soon become someone’s back yard. That’s okay…there are plenty of other nice vantage points surrounding our fair cities. Many are just waiting to be discovered.