Geography Lessons II: Right Next Door
Second Google Earth lesson - no matter how much you know, there are vast places in the world that you know nothing about. This is not just things in distant foreign countries, this is stuff virtually right in your backyard.
Note: None of these pictures are mine.
Everywhere you look, there's something you haven't seen before. A lot of that's just due to the difference in perspective. Yes, you know about the building where you work (how could you not know about that), but do you know what color the roof is? Sometimes yes, sometimes no. How about where you shop? Where you eat? Do you know about the secret back way through the parking lot and cutting through the subdivision to get to your house?
But there are even huge things that are nearby that you know nothing about. In my case, northern California.
Now, anyone who has ever lived in California knows that the state is divided into two "halves". There's Northern California, which basically means the Bay Area and Sacramento and environs, and there's Southern California, which is LA and San Diego, and a chunk of the valley. But if you actually look at a map, "Northern" California seems to be centered bang on the center of the state:
Source: Wikimedia
In the northern state sits a giant black hole in the state's consciousness. Nobody goes there. Nobody seems to know anyone who lives there. Occasionally people pass through it, but they rarely ever remember passing through. The entire blot on the map seems to be invisible - even people in neighboring Northern California seem to have collectively given themselves amnesia when it comes to "Northern Northern California"
Those seven northern-most counties (Del Norte, Siskiyou, Modoc, Humboldt, Trinity, Shasta, and Lassen), have (according to Wikipedia, which is a dubious source) 444,000 residents, spread over 27,600 square miles. About 90,000 of those people live in Redding. By contrast, California's most populous county, Los Angeles, has almost ten million people. Modoc county (if suburbia is where you cut down the trees and name the streets after them the American west is where you kill the Indians and name the counties after them) bottoms out with a population density of 0.9/km^2, less than any of the provinces of Canada (although not the territories). Trinity county claims that it didn't even have a chain restaurant until 1999.
So somewhere in the middle of the most populous state in the United States, in the middle of a place with some thirty-seven million people, lies an area larger than West Virginia, with a population smaller than Wyoming. If it were its own country, northernmost California would be about the size of Ireland - with a population inferior to Luxembourg. But nobody goes there. Even seasoned Bay Area-ers never really go above Napa county. Oh, they've heard of things, like Redding and Shasta, but nobody ever really goes there. It's ignored; it doesn't exist.
But on satellite maps you can't help but notice it. It's a gigantic splotch on the face of California. On the face of the Earth. You can't help but notice the fact that it's there, and it's so close to home. So why doesn't anyone live here? One possible explanation is that it could be a desolate wasteland. I mean, there are places where nobody lives. But what's here that nobody wants to live near?
Trees:
Redwood NP, Source: Wikimedia
Volcanic Wasteland:
Mount Lassen, Source: Panoramio - Steve Schmorleitz
Rocks in the middle of fields:
Mt. Shasta, Source: Wikipedia
A lot of sand:
Klamath River Mouth, Source: Panoramio - Andre Villaret
Empty land:
Bowles Meadow, Modoc County, Source: Panoramio - apbailey
Of course, no matter how good it is, this is still California. The state that brought you Half Dome and Mount Whitney and Yosemite and Monterrey and Sequoia National Park. In a place like CA there's always something that gets forgotten about. But it's there. It's right there. And it's big. It's bold. It's amazing. And it's a hell of a lot closer than Disneyland.
But don't tell anyone. The less who know, probably the better.
Note: None of these pictures are mine.
Everywhere you look, there's something you haven't seen before. A lot of that's just due to the difference in perspective. Yes, you know about the building where you work (how could you not know about that), but do you know what color the roof is? Sometimes yes, sometimes no. How about where you shop? Where you eat? Do you know about the secret back way through the parking lot and cutting through the subdivision to get to your house?
But there are even huge things that are nearby that you know nothing about. In my case, northern California.
Now, anyone who has ever lived in California knows that the state is divided into two "halves". There's Northern California, which basically means the Bay Area and Sacramento and environs, and there's Southern California, which is LA and San Diego, and a chunk of the valley. But if you actually look at a map, "Northern" California seems to be centered bang on the center of the state:
Source: Wikimedia
In the northern state sits a giant black hole in the state's consciousness. Nobody goes there. Nobody seems to know anyone who lives there. Occasionally people pass through it, but they rarely ever remember passing through. The entire blot on the map seems to be invisible - even people in neighboring Northern California seem to have collectively given themselves amnesia when it comes to "Northern Northern California"
Those seven northern-most counties (Del Norte, Siskiyou, Modoc, Humboldt, Trinity, Shasta, and Lassen), have (according to Wikipedia, which is a dubious source) 444,000 residents, spread over 27,600 square miles. About 90,000 of those people live in Redding. By contrast, California's most populous county, Los Angeles, has almost ten million people. Modoc county (if suburbia is where you cut down the trees and name the streets after them the American west is where you kill the Indians and name the counties after them) bottoms out with a population density of 0.9/km^2, less than any of the provinces of Canada (although not the territories). Trinity county claims that it didn't even have a chain restaurant until 1999.
So somewhere in the middle of the most populous state in the United States, in the middle of a place with some thirty-seven million people, lies an area larger than West Virginia, with a population smaller than Wyoming. If it were its own country, northernmost California would be about the size of Ireland - with a population inferior to Luxembourg. But nobody goes there. Even seasoned Bay Area-ers never really go above Napa county. Oh, they've heard of things, like Redding and Shasta, but nobody ever really goes there. It's ignored; it doesn't exist.
But on satellite maps you can't help but notice it. It's a gigantic splotch on the face of California. On the face of the Earth. You can't help but notice the fact that it's there, and it's so close to home. So why doesn't anyone live here? One possible explanation is that it could be a desolate wasteland. I mean, there are places where nobody lives. But what's here that nobody wants to live near?
Trees:
Redwood NP, Source: Wikimedia
Volcanic Wasteland:
Mount Lassen, Source: Panoramio - Steve Schmorleitz
Rocks in the middle of fields:
Mt. Shasta, Source: Wikipedia
A lot of sand:
Klamath River Mouth, Source: Panoramio - Andre Villaret
Empty land:
Bowles Meadow, Modoc County, Source: Panoramio - apbailey
Of course, no matter how good it is, this is still California. The state that brought you Half Dome and Mount Whitney and Yosemite and Monterrey and Sequoia National Park. In a place like CA there's always something that gets forgotten about. But it's there. It's right there. And it's big. It's bold. It's amazing. And it's a hell of a lot closer than Disneyland.
But don't tell anyone. The less who know, probably the better.