SOUTHERN EXTREME BULL RIDING - ABINGDON, VIRGINIA
Every Tuesday night for several months in the winter, the Washington County Fairgrounds’ largest building is warmed by giant space heaters so that a crowd of hundreds can root for their favorite bull rider. In the front of the building, the crowd sits in the bleachers laughing at the clown who is doing a goofy dance while they wait for the gate to burst open. He chats easily with regulars while throwing down the donated hat in the front that will be “signed” (stomped on) by the upcoming bulls.
In the back of the building, the well-oiled machine comprised of cowboys and locals begins. Bulls are walked through intricate chutes to keep them calm and secure. Eventually, they make their way to the small compartment at the end, just big enough for them to stand. The next man up has been stretching, preparing his personal rope and glove with heated-up rosin. He’s getting in the zone. The usually cocky guys with colorful chaps, wild boots and bull-legged swagger are quiet. They seem to be playing out over and over in their head the perfect eight seconds. Several cowboys stand near for safety reasons. Then, the cowboy slowly lowers down on top of the bull and tightens his rope around the giant beast’s belly. Time slows down and the man nods at the gatekeepers. One man hits the latch. Another man pulls on the lead that has been clipped to the gate so that it flies open. The bull is out, bouncing from his front legs to his back legs, desperately trying to knock the rider off of his back. The rider tries to counter balance and stay upright. If it happens like his vision, he will soon hear a bullhorn and have lasted to the magical eight second mark. And when the horn blows, the rider dismounts and tries to jump free of the spiraling, jumping animal. Then, the bullfighters jump into action and motion in front of the bull — sometimes even tapping their horns — so that the bull will move away from the recently freed rider. Most bulls find the open gate attractive and trot gently back. Sometimes the bulls will not head right in, which is affectionately called “taking a victory lap” — looking for someone or something to bump or chase. The well trained fighters do an intricate dance, the crowd is directed to yell, “go home,” in unison and the cattle dog is called out to nip at his heels.
Other entertainment includes games of skill for the audience and “fan of the night” for the fan who danced and cheered the most. “Mutton Busting” is when young children, who idolize the riders, get their chance to try something similar. They are placed atop a sheep and hang on for dear life while the small animal runs. Some kids fall and immediately burst into tears. A few will jump up and mosey over to the gate to climb over like the big guys. The kid with the highest score will get a crisp ten dollar bill and an itch for adrenaline.
The activities and riding continues for a couple hours. There are triumphs and disappointments and injuries. The night usually ends on a high note with loud music and lots of prizes handed out to the crowd. The cowboys move up and down in ranking from their evenings scores. It all happens again the next Tuesday night.
* * *
Tammy Mercure is a State Guide to Tennessee. She was recently named one of the “100 under 100: The New Superstars of Southern Art” by Oxford American magazine.
Follow on Tumblr at tammymercure or on her website, TammyMercure.com. Support her work at TCB Press.

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SOUTHERN EXTREME BULL RIDING - ABINGDON, VIRGINIA

Every Tuesday night for several months in the winter, the Washington County Fairgrounds’ largest building is warmed by giant space heaters so that a crowd of hundreds can root for their favorite bull rider. In the front of the building, the crowd sits in the bleachers laughing at the clown who is doing a goofy dance while they wait for the gate to burst open. He chats easily with regulars while throwing down the donated hat in the front that will be “signed” (stomped on) by the upcoming bulls.

In the back of the building, the well-oiled machine comprised of cowboys and locals begins. Bulls are walked through intricate chutes to keep them calm and secure. Eventually, they make their way to the small compartment at the end, just big enough for them to stand. The next man up has been stretching, preparing his personal rope and glove with heated-up rosin. He’s getting in the zone. The usually cocky guys with colorful chaps, wild boots and bull-legged swagger are quiet. They seem to be playing out over and over in their head the perfect eight seconds. Several cowboys stand near for safety reasons. Then, the cowboy slowly lowers down on top of the bull and tightens his rope around the giant beast’s belly. Time slows down and the man nods at the gatekeepers. One man hits the latch. Another man pulls on the lead that has been clipped to the gate so that it flies open. The bull is out, bouncing from his front legs to his back legs, desperately trying to knock the rider off of his back. The rider tries to counter balance and stay upright. If it happens like his vision, he will soon hear a bullhorn and have lasted to the magical eight second mark. And when the horn blows, the rider dismounts and tries to jump free of the spiraling, jumping animal. Then, the bullfighters jump into action and motion in front of the bull — sometimes even tapping their horns — so that the bull will move away from the recently freed rider. Most bulls find the open gate attractive and trot gently back. Sometimes the bulls will not head right in, which is affectionately called “taking a victory lap” — looking for someone or something to bump or chase. The well trained fighters do an intricate dance, the crowd is directed to yell, “go home,” in unison and the cattle dog is called out to nip at his heels.

Other entertainment includes games of skill for the audience and “fan of the night” for the fan who danced and cheered the most. “Mutton Busting” is when young children, who idolize the riders, get their chance to try something similar. They are placed atop a sheep and hang on for dear life while the small animal runs. Some kids fall and immediately burst into tears. A few will jump up and mosey over to the gate to climb over like the big guys. The kid with the highest score will get a crisp ten dollar bill and an itch for adrenaline.

The activities and riding continues for a couple hours. There are triumphs and disappointments and injuries. The night usually ends on a high note with loud music and lots of prizes handed out to the crowd. The cowboys move up and down in ranking from their evenings scores. It all happens again the next Tuesday night.

* * *

Tammy Mercure is a State Guide to Tennessee. She was recently named one of the “100 under 100: The New Superstars of Southern Art” by Oxford American magazine.

Follow on Tumblr at tammymercure or on her website, TammyMercure.com. Support her work at TCB Press.

LAWLESS: LOVING IT AND NOT IN SOUTH FLORIDA
For the traveler—and the local, too—there’s a sort of lawlessness—a coast-to-coast sensation—when you’re in South Florida, below the Lake Okeechobee shoreline.
Our guide—Florida: A Guide to the Southernmost State, published by the WPA in 1939—says it in plain words: “Florida is at once a continuation of the Deep South and the beginning of a new realm.”
And in that new realm, you do whatever the hell it is you want to do. You see it in the faces of those just passing through to the faces of the snowbird, the country cracker, the Miccosukee, the Cuban, the black American—anyone and everyone.
But, it’s not that you’re up to no good if you’re in these parts. No, because down here you’ve either been left to yourself or abandoned outright—something you either fought for and won or fought against and lost. That’s the prettiness and the ugliness of the place.
Just ask our guide: “Throughout more than four centuries, from Ponce de Leon in his caravels to the latest Pennsylvanian in his Buick”—You can throw in Walt Disney, HMO-barons, spring-break bros and hoes, and sub-prime mortgage lenders—”Florida has been invaded by seekers of gold or of sunshine. The result of all of this is a material and immaterial pattern of infinite variety, replete with contrasts, paradoxes, confusions, and inconsistencies.”
“Seekers of gold or of sunshine”—that’s a damn fine line to walk: between the Freedom—with a capital F—that we all seek and the temptations and trappings of its pursuit.
It’s all the “seekers of gold or of sunshine” where that lawless feeling comes from.
* * *
Tom McNamara is the co-editor of THE AMERICAN GUIDE.

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LAWLESS: LOVING IT AND NOT IN SOUTH FLORIDA

For the traveler—and the local, too—there’s a sort of lawlessness—a coast-to-coast sensation—when you’re in South Florida, below the Lake Okeechobee shoreline.

Our guide—Florida: A Guide to the Southernmost State, published by the WPA in 1939—says it in plain words: “Florida is at once a continuation of the Deep South and the beginning of a new realm.”

And in that new realm, you do whatever the hell it is you want to do. You see it in the faces of those just passing through to the faces of the snowbird, the country cracker, the Miccosukee, the Cuban, the black American—anyone and everyone.

But, it’s not that you’re up to no good if you’re in these parts. No, because down here you’ve either been left to yourself or abandoned outright—something you either fought for and won or fought against and lost. That’s the prettiness and the ugliness of the place.

Just ask our guide: “Throughout more than four centuries, from Ponce de Leon in his caravels to the latest Pennsylvanian in his Buick”—You can throw in Walt Disney, HMO-barons, spring-break bros and hoes, and sub-prime mortgage lenders—”Florida has been invaded by seekers of gold or of sunshine. The result of all of this is a material and immaterial pattern of infinite variety, replete with contrasts, paradoxes, confusions, and inconsistencies.”

“Seekers of gold or of sunshine”—that’s a damn fine line to walk: between the Freedom—with a capital F—that we all seek and the temptations and trappings of its pursuit.

It’s all the “seekers of gold or of sunshine” where that lawless feeling comes from.

* * *

Tom McNamara is the co-editor of THE AMERICAN GUIDE.

NEW LLANO, LOUISIANA (continued…)

By Breonne DeDecker

Our truck is level with the tops of skinny cypress trees. Interstate 10 between New Orleans and Houston is flat, except when the road rises to pass above the swamps and waterways. One great gyre in the interstate soars as high as the chemical flares from the oil refineries that mark the beginning of Cancer Alley. This overpass is the highest altitude you can access for miles. At Lake Charles, the mid-point between New Orleans and Houston, Darin and I head north on LA 171 towards DeRidder. Twenty minutes up this highway grants us hills, slow-rolling and smooth. These small mounds are unremarkable, but living on the flat x-axis of the Gulf Coast makes one marvel at the slightest incline, makes the saddest swell of earth feel miraculous.

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OURAY, COLORADO - SLUSHY SEASON or THE LONG, SLOW BREAK-UP

OURAY, 37 m. (7,800 alt., 707 pop.), seat of Ouray County, named for the great Ute chief, lies pocketed in a pear-shaped valley, with WHITE HOUSE MOUNTAIN (13,493 alt.) on the west, HAYDEN MOUNTAIN (13,100 alt.) on the south, and CASCADE MOUNTAIN (12,100 alt.) to the northwest. To the east, extending upward to the crest of the range, is a great natural amphitheater, part of the Ouray State Game Refuge. Densely wooded, but with many small parks, it is easily accessible on foot. Years ago the area was stocked with elk. Many are now so tame that they often wander along the streets of the town and through back yards, occasionally getting their antlers entangled in the family wash.

— Colorado, A Guide To the Highest State (WPA, 1941)

Spring in the Rockies can be like a good relationship going through a long break up. At first the snow piles high and everything is transformed and clean white. It’s all beautiful, new, exciting and fresh. Eventually the romance begins to fade, new fallen snow is more of a hassle to shovel and plow than a joy to see. Then it melts off, leaving things uglier, slushier, muddier than they were to begin with. Then it snows again, like a desperate one nighter, trying to reclaim a bit of winter’s passion. But it quickly flees again, it wasn’t meant to be and it leaves another dirty, slushy mess behind. And it will happen again, another quickie snowstorm before summer officially arrives — final break-up sex if you will.

If you’ve ever lived through a Western winter and spring — or a really long and tedious break up — you know what I mean.

***

KC O’Connor is a Guide to Wyoming for The American Guide. He’s a writer and photographer based in Lander, Wyoming. Follow him on Tumblr and Twitter.

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NEW YORK CITY GUIDE: 1939’s CHINATOWN and LOWER EAST SIDE

Though the Bowery Mission is still around today, there aren’t too many remnants left of New York’s Depression-era Lower East Side. It was a place full of pawnshops, beer saloons, flophouses and Jesus-saves welfare institutions. Masses of people lived on top of each other in slums. But in the hard times, a unique city culture — made up of small business owners, politicians, artists, gangsters, composers, prize fighters and labor leaders — was created. The neighborhood was the melting pot of the city.

With A/G coming to the Downtown Literary Festival on April 14 at Housing Works Bookstore Cafe — located at 126 Crosby Street — take the WPA time machine to 1939’s Chinatown and Lower East Side and see the neighborhood’s past.

Guide Note: Follow the link to download or print the complete New York City Guide: 1939’s Chinatown and Lower East Side. Right-click or cmd-click the map above for a large version to use as your guide. The following passages are excerpted from the NYC Guide.

- CHINATOWN -

New York’s Chinatown is trying to live down a myth; a myth kept alive by the sight-seeing companies that pile tourists into Chinatown busses, transport them to prepared points of interest, and frequently prime them with tales of mystery and crime. The truth is (and the policemen on the beat will verify it) that no safer district is to be found in New York City. Yet guides have been known to warn tourists to “hold hands while walking through the narrow streets.”

Historians differ as to the identity of the first Chinese resident of New York City. Some say it was Quimbo Appo, who came to San Francisco in 1844 and arrived here a few years later; others state it was Ah Ken, a Cantonese merchant who made his home on Mott Street in 1858. Still others contend it was Lou Hoy Sing, a sailor who shook off his wanderlust and settled in New York in 1862. (He married an Irish lass who bore him two stalwart sons, one of whom became a policeman and the other a truck driver.)

1939 TOUR

SEE MAP INSERT. “Tongs,” the Chinese equivalent of American fraternal societies, ruled the quarter with iron discipline and fought each other with hired gunmen.

The headquarters of the (#79) HIP SING TONG are situated appropriately near the corner of Pell and Doyers Streets, for just beyond is the (#78) BLOODY ANGLE, the bend in Doyers Street where henchmen of this tong fought the powerful (#75) ON LEONG TONG in the early 1900s. The Hip Sings, led by Mock Duck, a gambler, battled the On Leongs, captained by Tom Lee, for control of the lucrative gambling and opium rackets.

- LOWER EAST SIDE and THE BOWERY-

The dramatic, intensely human story of the Lower East Side is a familiar chapter in the epic of America; a host of writers some seeking out the Lower East Side and others originating there have described its people. Here have dwelt the people whose hands built the city’s elevateds, subways, tubes, bridges, and skyscrapers. Its two square miles of tenements and crowded streets magnify all the problems and conflicts of big-city life. Crowded, noisy, squalid in many of its aspects, no other section of the city is more typical of New York.

The Bowery today is chiefly given over to pawnshops, restaurant equipment houses, beer saloons, and miscellaneous small retail shops. Here flophouses offer a bug-infested bed in an unventilated pigeonhole for twenty-five cents a night, restaurants serve ham and eggs for ten cents, and students in barber “colleges” cut hair for fifteen cents. Thousands of the nation’s unemployed drift to this section and may be seen sleeping in all-night restaurants, in doorways, and on loading platforms, furtively begging, or waiting with hopeless faces for some bread line or free lodging house to open. No agency, at present (1939), provides adequate food, shelter, and clothing for these wanderers. Missions furnish food and lodging for a few, and try by sermon and song to touch the souls of the down-and-outers and the sympathies of generous tourists.

1939 TOUR

SEE MAP. In the incongruous setting of the theater and restaurant district is (#31) ST. MARK’S IN-THE-BOUWERIE, Second Avenue and Stuyvesant (East Tenth) Street. Erected in 1660, as a Dutch chapel, on the farm of Governor Peter Stuyvesant, it was rebuilt in 1799. The steeple and portico were added in 1826 and in 1858. Pagan-looking frescoes fill the pediment above the porch. They recall the pastorate of Dr. William Norman Guthrie. In an effort to make the church attractive to progressive parishioners, Dr. Guthrie worked out a ritual based on the theory of the essential unity of all religions, which included Greek folk dancing, American Indian chants, and many other things which the conservative element in the diocese heatedly declared to have no place in an Episcopalian church. A Body and Soul Clinic was attached to the church with the aim of combining physical and spiritual treatment.

* * *

Erin Chapman and Tom McNamara are co-editors of THE AMERICAN GUIDE.

ROAD TRIP WITH THE AMERICAN GUIDE

What: Downtown Literary Festival
Where: Housing Works Bookstore Cafe - NYC
When: Sunday - April 14 - 2:30PM
Facebook: RSVP

For a visitor to New York City in the 1940s, no guide was more comprehensive than the WPA Guide to New York City, a block-by-block encyclopedia of the neighborhoods, covered by some of the city’s most talented writers. The book was a part of the “American Guide Series,” published by the Federal Writers Project between 1935 and 1943, which encouraged Depression-weary Americans to explore their own backyard.
For our exploration of the American Guide, we’re joined by Erin Chapman and Tom McNamara, creators of the The American Guide Tumblr, which aims to capture the spirit of travel and discovery fostered by the original guide. Also joining us is Gabriel Kahane, composer of Gabriel’s Guide to the 48 States, a suite based on the American Guide, which will have its world premiere at Carnegie Hall on April 27th. Discussion moderated by Michelle Legro of Lapham’s Quarterly.
Guide Note: Follow your guide and hear about 1939’s Lower East Side. See The Bowery, “sinister street of lurid fiction and drama,” and its pawnshops, beer saloons, flophouses and missions. (The Bowery “Salvation” and “Rain” illustrations by Eli Jacobi, WPA.)
* * *
Road Trip With The American Guide is a part of the inaugural Downtown Literary Festival in New York City, from McNally Jackson and Housing Works Bookstore Cafe. It’s a daylong celebration of the literary culture of the city. The festival will take place at both bookstores simultaneously throughout the day on Sunday, April 14, 2013.

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ROAD TRIP WITH THE AMERICAN GUIDE

What: Downtown Literary Festival

Where: Housing Works Bookstore Cafe - NYC

When: Sunday - A pril 14 - 2:30PM

Facebook: RSVP

For a visitor to New York City in the 1940s, no guide was more comprehensive than the WPA Guide to New York City, a block-by-block encyclopedia of the neighborhoods, covered by some of the city’s most talented writers. The book was a part of the “American Guide Series,” published by the Federal Writers Project between 1935 and 1943, which encouraged Depression-weary Americans to explore their own backyard.

For our exploration of the American Guide, we’re joined by Erin Chapman and Tom McNamara, creators of the The American Guide Tumblr, which aims to capture the spirit of travel and discovery fostered by the original guide. Also joining us is Gabriel Kahane, composer of Gabriel’s Guide to the 48 States, a suite based on the American Guide, which will have its world premiere at Carnegie Hall on April 27th. Discussion moderated by Michelle Legro of Lapham’s Quarterly.

Guide Note: Follow your guide and hear about 1939’s Lower East Side. See The Bowery, “sinister street of lurid fiction and drama,” and its pawnshops, beer saloons, flophouses and missions. (The Bowery “Salvation” and “Rain” illustrations by Eli Jacobi, WPA.)

* * *

Road Trip With The American Guide is a part of the inaugural Downtown Literary Festival in New York City, from McNally Jackson and Housing Works Bookstore Cafe. It’s a daylong celebration of the literary culture of the city. The festival will take place at both bookstores simultaneously throughout the day on Sunday, April 14, 2013.

DOLLYWOOD - TENNESSEE

“A few years back, when I first started seeing the Hollywood sign, I kept thinking how cute it would be if I could change the H to a D—and see how long it would take anybody to notice. It just popped into my mind that it would be a good name for a park.” - Dolly Parton

Dolly Parton was born in Sevierville — pronounced SEVERE-ville — Tennessee, to a poor but loving family that included her parents and eleven siblings. It’s tough to pick favorites by a woman who’s written over 3,000 songs, but for a sampling of her best, I recommend the heartbreaking “Jolene”, “Coat of Many Colors” — a classic about her early days — and “I Will Always Love You” (written by Dolly, but you might know Whitney Houston’s 1992 version better).
Dolly stayed true to her Tennessee roots and currently lives in Brentwood, right outside of Nashville. The Nashville bus tours that traverse the city — driving by famous country singers’ homes — often get a big wave from the lady herself when she’s in residence.
In 1986, she co-opened Dollywood, a reincarnation of a lineage of theme parks like Rebel Railroad and Goldrush Junction. Today, Dollywood plays host to over 2.5 million guests a year and is the biggest employer in the Pigeon Forge area.
The park truly embodies her spirit. Guests are welcomed by a kind tram driver who makes jokes and reminds them that they are parked in lot D/E for “Dolly’s Earrings.” Surrounded by beautiful foliage, the park is nestled at the bottom of the Great Smoky Mountains, which shade it all summer long. It has something for everyone: thrilling rides, country cooking, musical shows and tours through Dolly’s childhood home (not to mention her tour bus when it’s not on the road). Music floats in the air from the outdoor venues and the steam train whistle harmonizes from time to time.
Guide Note: Come May time every year, see Dolly in person at “Dolly’s Homecoming Parade.” Friday, May 10th, will be the 28th annual, and will see Dolly borne by float along the streets of Pigeon Forge with marching bands, baton twirlers, horses, a submarine and a NASCAR race car.
Just outside of Pigeon Forge, be sure to stop in Sevierville’s town square to see the bronze Dolly statue and, as is the local tradition, rub her boob for good luck.
* * *
Tammy Mercure is a State Guide to Tennessee. She was recently named one of the “100 under 100: The New Superstars of Southern Art” by Oxford American magazine.
Follow on Tumblr at tammymercure or on her website, TammyMercure.com. Support her work at TCB Press.

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DOLLYWOOD - TENNESSEE

“A few years back, when I first started seeing the Hollywood sign, I kept thinking how cute it would be if I could change the H to a D—and see how long it would take anybody to notice. It just popped into my mind that it would be a good name for a park.” - Dolly Parton

Dolly Parton was born in Sevierville — pronounced SEVERE-ville — Tennessee, to a poor but loving family that included her parents and eleven siblings. It’s tough to pick favorites by a woman who’s written over 3,000 songs, but for a sampling of her best, I recommend the heartbreaking “Jolene”, “Coat of Many Colors” — a classic about her early days — and “I Will Always Love You” (written by Dolly, but you might know Whitney Houston’s 1992 version better).

Dolly stayed true to her Tennessee roots and currently lives in Brentwood, right outside of Nashville. The Nashville bus tours that traverse the city — driving by famous country singers’ homes — often get a big wave from the lady herself when she’s in residence.

In 1986, she co-opened Dollywood, a reincarnation of a lineage of theme parks like Rebel Railroad and Goldrush Junction. Today, Dollywood plays host to over 2.5 million guests a year and is the biggest employer in the Pigeon Forge area.

The park truly embodies her spirit. Guests are welcomed by a kind tram driver who makes jokes and reminds them that they are parked in lot D/E for “Dolly’s Earrings.” Surrounded by beautiful foliage, the park is nestled at the bottom of the Great Smoky Mountains, which shade it all summer long. It has something for everyone: thrilling rides, country cooking, musical shows and tours through Dolly’s childhood home (not to mention her tour bus when it’s not on the road). Music floats in the air from the outdoor venues and the steam train whistle harmonizes from time to time.

Guide Note: Come May time every year, see Dolly in person at “Dolly’s Homecoming Parade.” Friday, May 10th, will be the 28th annual, and will see Dolly borne by float along the streets of Pigeon Forge with marching bands, baton twirlers, horses, a submarine and a NASCAR race car.

Just outside of Pigeon Forge, be sure to stop in Sevierville’s town square to see the bronze Dolly statue and, as is the local tradition, rub her boob for good luck.

* * *

Tammy Mercure is a State Guide to Tennessee. She was recently named one of the “100 under 100: The New Superstars of Southern Art” by Oxford American magazine.

Follow on Tumblr at tammymercure or on her website, TammyMercure.com. Support her work at TCB Press.

THE PINTO BEAN CAPITAL OF THE WORLD

In his younger days Zane Grey, writer of western fiction, lived for a time in Dove Creek, and much of his novel Riders of the Purple Sage is said to have been written here. There are several elderly townsfolk who identify themselves with characters in the book.
- Colorado, A Guide To the Highest State (WPA, 1941)

Dove Creek, Colorado is the Pinto Bean Capital of the World. The biggest landmark near the town is an enormous bean elevator that can be seen from miles around.
* * *
Amadee Ricketts is an At-Large Guide to the West. She’s worked as a cemetary groundskeeper, a shoeshine valet, and a bill collector. More recently, she’s been a children’s librarian in five states. She takes a lot of pictures and lives near Durango, CO. You can see her photos at textless.tumblr.com.

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THE PINTO BEAN CAPITAL OF THE WORLD

In his younger days Zane Grey, writer of western fiction, lived for a time in Dove Creek, and much of his novel Riders of the Purple Sage is said to have been written here. There are several elderly townsfolk who identify themselves with characters in the book.

- Colorado, A Guide To the Highest State (WPA, 1941)

Dove Creek, Colorado is the Pinto Bean Capital of the World. The biggest landmark near the town is an enormous bean elevator that can be seen from miles around.

* * *

Amadee Ricketts is an At-Large Guide to the West. She’s worked as a cemetary groundskeeper, a shoeshine valet, and a bill collector. More recently, she’s been a children’s librarian in five states. She takes a lot of pictures and lives near Durango, CO. You can see her photos at textless.tumblr.com.

BROOKLYN NAVY YARD - NEW YORK

“The United States Navy Yard, Navy Street, Flushing and Clinton Avenues, better known as the Brooklyn Navy Yard, skirts Wallabout Bay, a semicircular elbow of the East River opposite Corlear’s Hook, Manhattan. This busy naval city covers a total of 197 acres, 118 on land, 79 on water, and is surrounded by forbidding brick walls with massive iron gateways.” – New York City Guide (WPA, 1939)

Biking down Flushing Avenue, dubbed the Hipster Highway for its convenient bike connection between the neighborhoods of DUMBO, Williamsburg, and Greenpoint, any sense of neighborhood evades you. Warehouses and auto parts stores are countered by an expanse of quiet industrialism along the East River waterfront. The district now seems to lack the pulsating energy of intensive production in the Navy Yard’s past: from 1801 to 1966, the Navy Yard was one of the foremost shipbuilding and provisioning centers in the nation with a workforce upwards of 70,000 employees during World War II. Now owned by the city and operated as an industrial park, the gates remain and entry is restricted - an anomaly of the street grid with a smattering of competing building styles and orientations, punctuated by half empty parking lots that give the impression of just another industrial waterfront awaiting redevelopment.

“The yard (…) contains four drydocks ranging in length from 326 to 700 feet, two huge steel shipways, and six big pontoons and cylindrical floats for salvage work (…) numerous foundries, machine shops, and warehouses (…) barracks for marines, a power plant, a large radio station, and a railroad spur. (…) Beyond the dull waters of the East River looms the New York sky line, like the backdrop of a stage set.” – New York City Guide (WPA, 1939)

Despite its guarded, dulling presentation to the outside, the Navy Yard thrives. Now one of the fastest growing green manufacturing centers in the nation, the Yard also houses artists, an urban farm, the city’s oldest current operating whiskey distillery (a few years old), woodworkers, architects, a pioneering modular construction firm, and remnants of its ship-centric past operating the gargantuan dry docks reaching inland. The steel hull of Building 128 - just months ago a bygone shipbuilding factory shrouded in caution tape and rust - is slowly shaping into a Collaborative Design and Fabrication Center. Steiner Studios, the largest film studio complex outside of Hollywood and home to the largest sound stage on the East Coast, provides a backdrop ripe for the silver screen: the Empire State Building, the Manhattan and Williamsburg Bridges, and the new World Trade Center building all rise in the distance.

“At the south end, facing Flushing Avenue are the officer’s quarters, two-story buildings of painted brick, scrupulously neat despite their age (some were built before the Civil War), and bordered by gardens, tennis courts, and carefully kept walks.” – New York City Guide (WPA, 1939)

The past and the present meet frequently in New York, but rarely do the past and the future coalesce so nearly as they do in the Navy Yard. Bordered by the crumbling facades of Admiral’s Row and the regally decrepit former hospital, industry is adapting to the constraints and needs of the current environment. The nonprofit development corporation that manages the site has made the rich history of the Navy Yard’s past and present available through BLDG 92, a museum, job placement center, and community space housed in the adaptively reused Marine Commandant’s Residence. It may not look like much from the outside, but the Navy Yard stands in stark contrast to an economy founded on real estate booms and the fluctuations of Wall Street, and is much more impressive and intriguing for it.
Guide Note: While admission to BLDG 92 is free, tours of the Navy Yard itself run to at least $20. I highly suggest a visit to the distillery followed by some slightly illicit exploration of the grounds, by bike if possible.
* * *
JONATHAN TARLETON is a State Guide to New York. He was schooled in Georgia and North Carolina before moving on to denser pastures in Brooklyn. He currently helps out at Urban Omnibus where he researches and writes about the policy, art, peculiarities, and movements that make New York City so enticingly combative. He likes to be outside and to make things, preferably concurrently.
Follow him on Tumblr at jttarleton.tumblr.com.

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BROOKLYN NAVY YARD - NEW YORK

“The United States Navy Yard, Navy Street, Flushing and Clinton Avenues, better known as the Brooklyn Navy Yard, skirts Wallabout Bay, a semicircular elbow of the East River opposite Corlear’s Hook, Manhattan. This busy naval city covers a total of 197 acres, 118 on land, 79 on water, and is surrounded by forbidding brick walls with massive iron gateways.” – New York City Guide (WPA, 1939)

Biking down Flushing Avenue, dubbed the Hipster Highway for its convenient bike connection between the neighborhoods of DUMBO, Williamsburg, and Greenpoint, any sense of neighborhood evades you. Warehouses and auto parts stores are countered by an expanse of quiet industrialism along the East River waterfront. The district now seems to lack the pulsating energy of intensive production in the Navy Yard’s past: from 1801 to 1966, the Navy Yard was one of the foremost shipbuilding and provisioning centers in the nation with a workforce upwards of 70,000 employees during World War II. Now owned by the city and operated as an industrial park, the gates remain and entry is restricted - an anomaly of the street grid with a smattering of competing building styles and orientations, punctuated by half empty parking lots that give the impression of just another industrial waterfront awaiting redevelopment.

“The yard (…) contains four drydocks ranging in length from 326 to 700 feet, two huge steel shipways, and six big pontoons and cylindrical floats for salvage work (…) numerous foundries, machine shops, and warehouses (…) barracks for marines, a power plant, a large radio station, and a railroad spur. (…) Beyond the dull waters of the East River looms the New York sky line, like the backdrop of a stage set.” – New York City Guide (WPA, 1939)

Despite its guarded, dulling presentation to the outside, the Navy Yard thrives. Now one of the fastest growing green manufacturing centers in the nation, the Yard also houses artists, an urban farm, the city’s oldest current operating whiskey distillery (a few years old), woodworkers, architects, a pioneering modular construction firm, and remnants of its ship-centric past operating the gargantuan dry docks reaching inland. The steel hull of Building 128 - just months ago a bygone shipbuilding factory shrouded in caution tape and rust - is slowly shaping into a Collaborative Design and Fabrication Center. Steiner Studios, the largest film studio complex outside of Hollywood and home to the largest sound stage on the East Coast, provides a backdrop ripe for the silver screen: the Empire State Building, the Manhattan and Williamsburg Bridges, and the new World Trade Center building all rise in the distance.

“At the south end, facing Flushing Avenue are the officer’s quarters, two-story buildings of painted brick, scrupulously neat despite their age (some were built before the Civil War), and bordered by gardens, tennis courts, and carefully kept walks.” – New York City Guide (WPA, 1939)

The past and the present meet frequently in New York, but rarely do the past and the future coalesce so nearly as they do in the Navy Yard. Bordered by the crumbling facades of Admiral’s Row and the regally decrepit former hospital, industry is adapting to the constraints and needs of the current environment. The nonprofit development corporation that manages the site has made the rich history of the Navy Yard’s past and present available through BLDG 92, a museum, job placement center, and community space housed in the adaptively reused Marine Commandant’s Residence. It may not look like much from the outside, but the Navy Yard stands in stark contrast to an economy founded on real estate booms and the fluctuations of Wall Street, and is much more impressive and intriguing for it.

Guide Note: While admission to BLDG 92 is free, tours of the Navy Yard itself run to at least $20. I highly suggest a visit to the distillery followed by some slightly illicit exploration of the grounds, by bike if possible.

* * *

JONATHAN TARLETON is a State Guide to New York. He was schooled in Georgia and North Carolina before moving on to denser pastures in Brooklyn. He currently helps out at Urban Omnibus where he researches and writes about the policy, art, peculiarities, and movements that make New York City so enticingly combative. He likes to be outside and to make things, preferably concurrently.

Follow him on Tumblr at jttarleton.tumblr.com.

STAYING ALIVE IN THE DEAD OF WINTER - SOUTHCOAST MASSACHUSETTS + RHODE ISLAND
The past couple of years have brought us some pretty weak New England winters, not that I am complaining… at all. I was actually getting used to it and enjoying the milder temperatures. Then, 2013 came in with a bang as “Nemo” hit the East Coast hard.
  Blizzard Nemo brought us state of emergencies, power outages, parking + driving bans, snow plows and closed businesses.
What it brought me was a sense of togetherness with everyone and everything around me: neighborhoods came together to shovel and plow the streets, families united with board games, friends fumbled with drinking games and we played in the snow as if we were eight years old again.
    Guide Note: Head over to “Winter Storm Central” at Weather.com for some great storm-porn pics. My personal favorite is #15 (awesome!) and #89 (I used to live in Portland, Maine, and they really do ski in the streets when it snows!)
* * *
Brittany Marcoux is a Guide to Rhode Island and an At-Large Guide to New England for The American Guide. She’s a photographer and a native New Englander. Follow her work on Tumblr or via her website.

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STAYING ALIVE IN THE DEAD OF WINTER - SOUTHCOAST MASSACHUSETTS + RHODE ISLAND

The past couple of years have brought us some pretty weak New England winters, not that I am complaining… at all. I was actually getting used to it and enjoying the milder temperatures. Then, 2013 came in with a bang as “Nemo” hit the East Coast hard.

  Blizzard Nemo brought us state of emergencies, power outages, parking + driving bans, snow plows and closed businesses.

What it brought me was a sense of togetherness with everyone and everything around me: neighborhoods came together to shovel and plow the streets, families united with board games, friends fumbled with drinking games and we played in the snow as if we were eight years old again.

    Guide Note: Head over to “Winter Storm Central” at Weather.com for some great storm-porn pics. My personal favorite is #15 (awesome!) and #89 (I used to live in Portland, Maine, and they really do ski in the streets when it snows!)

* * *

Brittany Marcoux is a Guide to Rhode Island and an At-Large Guide to New England for The American Guide. She’s a photographer and a native New Englander. Follow her work on Tumblr or via her website.

DRAGONCON - ATLANTA, GEORGIA
Bagpipes fill the early morning air in Atlanta, Georgia. Rather than playing a traditional Scottish tune, the players are dressed as Imperial Stormtroopers and playing the Star Wars theme. The band leads thousands of elaborately dressed sci-fi and fantasy fans and cosplayers (short for “costume players”) down Peachtree Street to a rapt crowd about five people deep on the sidewalk.
There are the ever present Star Wars fans, but Dragoncon runs the gamut of literature, games and pop culture. I have seen a gaggle of Lady Gagas, retired Spartans (men with beer bellies and dangling cigarettes wearing 300 gear), various “Dudes” from The Big Lebowski and Bert and Ernie with hyperrealistic features. There are always “Doctors” from Doctor Who, superheroes, wookies and the one guy who looks like Ferris Bueller. It is always interesting to see what phases out (the Mad Max crew were woefully absent from the 2012 parade) and what gets huge (2012 finally saw a group of The Venture Bros. characters).
The four day festival spreads out between five downtown Atlanta hotels every Labor Day weekend. Guests follow tracks to optimize their panel viewing and choose the right fit from the thousands of hours of programming. Options include YA Lit, Robotics, Alternate History and Horror, among others. Some stand in line for photos of their favorite actors and entertainers ranging from FX master Tom Savini to Luke Perry (who couldn’t have been cooler). There are many special events during the weekend, too, like dressing up and going to the Georgia Aquarium and indie wrestling at night.
My favorite thing to do is walk around downtown after the parade on Saturday, after people have filed away to eat at the food court or find a panel. The city bustles along—you can even see a stray Macho Man Randy Savage strutting around or find Waldo in his signature red stripes running across the street.
Dragoncon 2013 is August 30 to September 2. Start planning your costume now!
* * *
Tammy Mercure is a State Guide to Tennessee. She was recently named one of the “100 under 100: The New Superstars of Southern Art” by Oxford American magazine.
Follow on Tumblr at tammymercure or on her website, TammyMercure.com. Support her work at TCB Press.

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DRAGONCON - ATLANTA, GEORGIA

Bagpipes fill the early morning air in Atlanta, Georgia. Rather than playing a traditional Scottish tune, the players are dressed as Imperial Stormtroopers and playing the Star Wars theme. The band leads thousands of elaborately dressed sci-fi and fantasy fans and cosplayers (short for “costume players”) down Peachtree Street to a rapt crowd about five people deep on the sidewalk.

There are the ever present Star Wars fans, but Dragoncon runs the gamut of literature, games and pop culture. I have seen a gaggle of Lady Gagas, retired Spartans (men with beer bellies and dangling cigarettes wearing 300 gear), various “Dudes” from The Big Lebowski and Bert and Ernie with hyperrealistic features. There are always “Doctors” from Doctor Who, superheroes, wookies and the one guy who looks like Ferris Bueller. It is always interesting to see what phases out (the Mad Max crew were woefully absent from the 2012 parade) and what gets huge (2012 finally saw a group of The Venture Bros. characters).

The four day festival spreads out between five downtown Atlanta hotels every Labor Day weekend. Guests follow tracks to optimize their panel viewing and choose the right fit from the thousands of hours of programming. Options include YA Lit, Robotics, Alternate History and Horror, among others. Some stand in line for photos of their favorite actors and entertainers ranging from FX master Tom Savini to Luke Perry (who couldn’t have been cooler). There are many special events during the weekend, too, like dressing up and going to the Georgia Aquarium and indie wrestling at night.

My favorite thing to do is walk around downtown after the parade on Saturday, after people have filed away to eat at the food court or find a panel. The city bustles along—you can even see a stray Macho Man Randy Savage strutting around or find Waldo in his signature red stripes running across the street.

Dragoncon 2013 is August 30 to September 2. Start planning your costume now!

* * *

Tammy Mercure is a State Guide to Tennessee. She was recently named one of the “100 under 100: The New Superstars of Southern Art” by Oxford American magazine.

Follow on Tumblr at tammymercure or on her website, TammyMercure.com. Support her work at TCB Press.

JORDAN LAKE, NORTH CAROLINA
Spanning 21 square miles and nearly three counties, and smack-dab in the middle of North Carolina is the beautiful Jordan Lake. The reservoir and dam are two of the state’s most treasured and important resources; not only is the area a protected state park and popular recreation site, but it’s also tasked with flood and water quality control, and is responsible for supplying water to the capital metro area.
Jordan Lake’s history is an interesting one. Various cultures have called the area home for over ten centuries; both Revolutionary and Civil War troops marched through. But in the second half of the 20th century, big changes came. Twenty years after a particularly damaging tropical storm in 1945, the Army Corps of Engineers was handed the “New Hope Lake Project” (eventually renamed B. Everett Jordan Lake after the former Senator, who—little known fact—was eventually unseated by comedian Zack Galifianakis’s uncle). The Engineers were tasked with studying flood control and water resource needs in the area and as a result in the decade between 1973 and ‘83, the New Hope and Haw Rivers were dammed and flooded. Farming families were relocated; roads were rerouted or wholly covered by water. To this day, when the water is low enough, old roads and forgotten bridge parts create pseudo-sandbars for birds to sun themselves on.
Now a State Recreation Area, Jordan Lake’s shores are protected from development. At the south end is the impressive dam, where the surface can be calm or full of churning white caps, depending on the day. The past several years have seen a grassroots movement to clean up the scourge of litter plaguing Jordan Lake’s shores—a prime example of the place the area holds in the hearts of its residents. The bald eagle is the lake’s official animal, and the area is home to many other recognizable North American woodland animals. Visitors can fish, swim, sail, hike, hunt or camp. Boasting multiple boat ramps, canoe launches, two beaches, piers (including one that’s wheelchair-accessible), playgrounds, campgrounds, and a privately-owned marina, it’s one of the best places in the state to spend a day. This author, for one, is happy to call Jordan Lake home.
* * *

Brittany Kearns is a Guide to North Carolina. An honorary Southerner, she was born in New Jersey, but now calls rural Chatham County home. She’s got a degree in anthropology, a love for documentary photography and takes film over digital any day. Follow her on Tumblr at thebeekearns.tumblr.com and check out her portfolio at BrittanyKearns.com.

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JORDAN LAKE, NORTH CAROLINA

Spanning 21 square miles and nearly three counties, and smack-dab in the middle of North Carolina is the beautiful Jordan Lake. The reservoir and dam are two of the state’s most treasured and important resources; not only is the area a protected state park and popular recreation site, but it’s also tasked with flood and water quality control, and is responsible for supplying water to the capital metro area.

Jordan Lake’s history is an interesting one. Various cultures have called the area home for over ten centuries; both Revolutionary and Civil War troops marched through. But in the second half of the 20th century, big changes came. Twenty years after a particularly damaging tropical storm in 1945, the Army Corps of Engineers was handed the “New Hope Lake Project” (eventually renamed B. Everett Jordan Lake after the former Senator, who—little known fact—was eventually unseated by comedian Zack Galifianakis’s uncle). The Engineers were tasked with studying flood control and water resource needs in the area and as a result in the decade between 1973 and ‘83, the New Hope and Haw Rivers were dammed and flooded. Farming families were relocated; roads were rerouted or wholly covered by water. To this day, when the water is low enough, old roads and forgotten bridge parts create pseudo-sandbars for birds to sun themselves on.

Now a State Recreation Area, Jordan Lake’s shores are protected from development. At the south end is the impressive dam, where the surface can be calm or full of churning white caps, depending on the day. The past several years have seen a grassroots movement to clean up the scourge of litter plaguing Jordan Lake’s shores—a prime example of the place the area holds in the hearts of its residents. The bald eagle is the lake’s official animal, and the area is home to many other recognizable North American woodland animals. Visitors can fish, swim, sail, hike, hunt or camp. Boasting multiple boat ramps, canoe launches, two beaches, piers (including one that’s wheelchair-accessible), playgrounds, campgrounds, and a privately-owned marina, it’s one of the best places in the state to spend a day. This author, for one, is happy to call Jordan Lake home.

* * *

Brittany Kearns is a Guide to North Carolina. An honorary Southerner, she was born in New Jersey, but now calls rural Chatham County home. She’s got a degree in anthropology, a love for documentary photography and takes film over digital any day. Follow her on Tumblr at thebeekearns.tumblr.com and check out her portfolio at BrittanyKearns.com.

BRIDGE TO NOWHERE, or BUILD IT AND THEY WON’T COME - CHARLESTON, SOUTH CAROLINA
Bridges are a necessity, especially in South Carolina’s Lowcountry. The swampy ground and tidal marsh make road building tricky on the eastern seaboard of the Palmetto State. More often than not, it’s easier to go over the pluff mud than through it. As a commuter in the Lowcountry chances are you will cross over a bridge or three on your daily trek. Small and large, old and new, modern and classical – these bridges come in many shapes and sizes.
Recently, the most talked about bridge in Charleston is not the tallest, or the longest, or the grandest – no, oddly enough it is the least used. It has been deemed “the bridge to nowhere” by locals. It’s not very often you see a bridge that is devoid of not only people, but automobiles as well. You’re more likely to see friends of a feathered nature on this unused stretch of roadway than anything resembling a human.
So what happened?
The area where this bridge was constructed was largely polluted and vacant, but a renewal project was slotted to revitalize and repurpose the forgotten region into a viable community of commercial and residential developments, connected by this concrete span to the area near I-26.
“2009” is innocuously inscribed on both ends of the bridge. It seems a harmless enough date, but many of us remember it as the year the recession bottomed out. 2008-2013 have been economically some of the hardest since the legendary Great Depression of the 1930s. And not even good intentions were spared during the financial downturn. The construction of homes and shops is on hold until demand returns to the real estate market. In the meantime, the white ibises have the place to themselves for a little longer and the bridge serves as a symbol of the economic collapse we as Americans have all endured.
* * *
John Lusk Hathaway is a State Guide to South Carolina and an At-Large Guide to the Southeast. He was born in Memphis Tennessee, and recently lived in Bali, Indonesia—so acclimating to the sweltering summers of the Lowcountry hasn’t been a problem. When he isn’t making pictures with old film cameras or burping a baby, he enjoys playing clawhammer banjo and surfing at Folly Beach. Follow him on Tumblr at johnluskhathaway or on his website, JohnLuskHathaway.com.

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BRIDGE TO NOWHERE, or BUILD IT AND THEY WON’T COME - CHARLESTON, SOUTH CAROLINA

Bridges are a necessity, especially in South Carolina’s Lowcountry. The swampy ground and tidal marsh make road building tricky on the eastern seaboard of the Palmetto State. More often than not, it’s easier to go over the pluff mud than through it. As a commuter in the Lowcountry chances are you will cross over a bridge or three on your daily trek. Small and large, old and new, modern and classical – these bridges come in many shapes and sizes.

Recently, the most talked about bridge in Charleston is not the tallest, or the longest, or the grandest – no, oddly enough it is the least used. It has been deemed “the bridge to nowhere” by locals. It’s not very often you see a bridge that is devoid of not only people, but automobiles as well. You’re more likely to see friends of a feathered nature on this unused stretch of roadway than anything resembling a human.

So what happened?

The area where this bridge was constructed was largely polluted and vacant, but a renewal project was slotted to revitalize and repurpose the forgotten region into a viable community of commercial and residential developments, connected by this concrete span to the area near I-26.

“2009” is innocuously inscribed on both ends of the bridge. It seems a harmless enough date, but many of us remember it as the year the recession bottomed out. 2008-2013 have been economically some of the hardest since the legendary Great Depression of the 1930s. And not even good intentions were spared during the financial downturn. The construction of homes and shops is on hold until demand returns to the real estate market. In the meantime, the white ibises have the place to themselves for a little longer and the bridge serves as a symbol of the economic collapse we as Americans have all endured.

* * *

John Lusk Hathaway is a State Guide to South Carolina and an At-Large Guide to the Southeast. He was born in Memphis Tennessee, and recently lived in Bali, Indonesia—so acclimating to the sweltering summers of the Lowcountry hasn’t been a problem. When he isn’t making pictures with old film cameras or burping a baby, he enjoys playing clawhammer banjo and surfing at Folly Beach. Follow him on Tumblr at johnluskhathaway or on his website, JohnLuskHathaway.com.

EGGLAND - PETALUMA, CALIFORNIA
A guide to Petaluma, California, using California: a Guide to the Golden State (WPA, 1939) as your map.
“The World’s Egg Basket.” “Egg Capital of the World.” “Chickaluma.”
These are just a few of the historical nicknames for Petaluma, a Sonoma County town just off today’s Hwy. 101, north of San Francisco. The unusual name, which voice-activated GPS systems don’t usually agree with, probably comes from a Miwok word, in the language of the area’s First Peoples. (Farming and ranching by both Mexican settlers and, eventually, Americans, overran the original inhabitants.)
Petaluma’s story really began in the 1870s when a Canadian named Lyman Byce realized that the area was perfect for poultry and, of course, egg production. Working with a local dentist named Isaac Dias, Byce also created the first egg incubator, which sped up the process of getting eggs to market.
By World War I, Petaluma’s chickens and eggs were being promoted in sophisticated advertising campaigns, and the town was enshrined with its reputation and nickname as the capital of all things eggy. Just ask the WPA Guide to California: “Petaluma even has a CHICKEN PHARMACY, on the main street, devoted exclusively to the sale of remedies for ailing chickens.”
Modern factory farming after World War II made the chicken coops and even the old incubators obsolete, and Petaluma reverted to its original agricultural roots. Acres of flowers grown for seed companies soon flourished. And its beautiful setting on the river of the same name, plus its proximity to San Francisco, also helped make the town a magnet for families and commuters.
Today, remnants of Petaluma’s past can still be seen in a drive around town: grain elevators, old, brick buildings which used to house poultry supplies and the “Butter and Eggs Day” parade and craft fair held every April.
* * *
Lynn Downey is an At-large Guide to the West for The American Guide. She’s a writer and archivist based in Sonoma, California. Follow on her website, LynnDowney.com.

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EGGLAND - PETALUMA, CALIFORNIA

A guide to Petaluma, California, using California: a Guide to the Golden State (WPA, 1939) as your map.

“The World’s Egg Basket.” “Egg Capital of the World.” “Chickaluma.”

These are just a few of the historical nicknames for Petaluma, a Sonoma County town just off today’s Hwy. 101, north of San Francisco. The unusual name, which voice-activated GPS systems don’t usually agree with, probably comes from a Miwok word, in the language of the area’s First Peoples. (Farming and ranching by both Mexican settlers and, eventually, Americans, overran the original inhabitants.)

Petaluma’s story really began in the 1870s when a Canadian named Lyman Byce realized that the area was perfect for poultry and, of course, egg production. Working with a local dentist named Isaac Dias, Byce also created the first egg incubator, which sped up the process of getting eggs to market.

By World War I, Petaluma’s chickens and eggs were being promoted in sophisticated advertising campaigns, and the town was enshrined with its reputation and nickname as the capital of all things eggy. Just ask the WPA Guide to California: “Petaluma even has a CHICKEN PHARMACY, on the main street, devoted exclusively to the sale of remedies for ailing chickens.”

Modern factory farming after World War II made the chicken coops and even the old incubators obsolete, and Petaluma reverted to its original agricultural roots. Acres of flowers grown for seed companies soon flourished. And its beautiful setting on the river of the same name, plus its proximity to San Francisco, also helped make the town a magnet for families and commuters.

Today, remnants of Petaluma’s past can still be seen in a drive around town: grain elevators, old, brick buildings which used to house poultry supplies and the “Butter and Eggs Day” parade and craft fair held every April.

* * *

Lynn Downey is an At-large Guide to the West for The American Guide. She’s a writer and archivist based in Sonoma, California. Follow on her website, LynnDowney.com.

WELCOME TO CORTEZ

CORTEZ, 200.5 m. (6,198 alt., 921 pop.), seat of Montezuma County, is a trading center for sheep and cattle raisers who pasture their herds on the sage flats to the west. The town was founded in 1887 when ranchers first pushed into the Montezuma Valley; many of the tan sandstone buildings were erected during that period. Cortez is interesting on Saturday nights, when its main street is filled with ranchers, farmers, and Indians; the latter are usually dressed in brilliant velveteens and calicoes, and aglitter with silver and turquoise jewelry. (…) The majority are Ute, although there is a sprinkling of Navaho and Piute.

— Colorado: A Guide To the Highest State (WPA, 1941)
Today Cortez is a town of 8,500 people. It is still the seat of Montezuma County, in the southwest corner of Colorado. The main industries are tourism, energy, and agriculture, and Saturday nights tend to be quiet.
Most tourists who visit Cortez are headed for Mesa Verde National Park. And don’t get me wrong, Mesa Verde is great. Along with the famous cliff dwellings, the park has an old school museum, the Chapin Mesa Archaeological Museum, full of dioramas and displays made by Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC) workers in the 1930s. There’s also a sweet new visitor center right at the park entrance. And from the top of the mesa, you can see forever.
But if you go to Cortez, spend a day or two at Mesa Verde, and leave, you will have missed out on what makes this area so special.
[Read more over at textless.tumblr.com…]
* * *
Amadee Ricketts is an At-Large Guide to the West. She’s worked as a cemetary groundskeeper, a shoeshine valet, and a bill collector. More recently, she’s been a children’s librarian in five states. She takes a lot of pictures and lives near Durango, CO. You can see her photos at textless.tumblr.com.

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WELCOME TO CORTEZ

CORTEZ, 200.5 m. (6,198 alt., 921 pop.), seat of Montezuma County, is a trading center for sheep and cattle raisers who pasture their herds on the sage flats to the west. The town was founded in 1887 when ranchers first pushed into the Montezuma Valley; many of the tan sandstone buildings were erected during that period. Cortez is interesting on Saturday nights, when its main street is filled with ranchers, farmers, and Indians; the latter are usually dressed in brilliant velveteens and calicoes, and aglitter with silver and turquoise jewelry. (…) The majority are Ute, although there is a sprinkling of Navaho and Piute.

— Colorado: A Guide To the Highest State (WPA, 1941)

Today Cortez is a town of 8,500 people. It is still the seat of Montezuma County, in the southwest corner of Colorado. The main industries are tourism, energy, and agriculture, and Saturday nights tend to be quiet.

Most tourists who visit Cortez are headed for Mesa Verde National Park. And don’t get me wrong, Mesa Verde is great. Along with the famous cliff dwellings, the park has an old school museum, the Chapin Mesa Archaeological Museum, full of dioramas and displays made by Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC) workers in the 1930s. There’s also a sweet new visitor center right at the park entrance. And from the top of the mesa, you can see forever.

But if you go to Cortez, spend a day or two at Mesa Verde, and leave, you will have missed out on what makes this area so special.

* * *

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