Tuesday, August 25, 2015

Not Just For Kellogg…




The Largest Mine in New England was in Cheshire. Who knew?

What lies beneath? That's what worries Cheshire resident Mary Vosburgh.
A good-sized chunk of her backyard is being swallowed up by something that has already gobbled up truckloads of fill, dozens of old tires, a few old automobiles and even a children's swing set. In 1978, it took a bite out of Sheridan Drive, a street perpendicular to Mary's, which collapsed 20 feet overnight, curb to curb. In 1994, it drank up a stream. So worried is Mary that she plans to fence off the sinking section of her already fenced yard. Otherwise, her inquisitive, hole-digging terrier, Kimba, may become the next morsel.

Welcome to Cheshire, home of New England's deepest underground mines. Beneath the residential neighborhoods of Peck Mountain and Jinny Hill is a honeycomb of abandoned mine shafts, prospecting pits, tunnels and partially dug veins of barite, an unusually heavy, soft, snow-white mineral that, when crushed, resembles powdered sugar. Mixed with the barite are fragments of maroon sandstone, coatings of agate-like quartz and the greenish-blue tinge of copper, all of which fill giant fractures that once steamed with geothermal fluids and rumbled with seismic activity. For more than 50 years (1813-78), Yankee laborers and an imported colony of more than 200 miners from Cornwall, England, worked underground like so many elves. In that dimly lit local version of Middle Earth, they used pickaxes to hammer out the soft, beautiful ore; chains to hoist it up through vertical shafts; narrow-gauge tramways to move it to mine portals; sledges to crush it; oxcarts to haul it west to the Farmington Canal; barges to float it to New Haven for processing; and railroads to ship it to New York City. There, the ore was used to thicken the white paint still covering so many early American homes.
Written descriptions, especially those by long-time mining superintendent J. Lanyon and a consultant from Germany, Hermann Credner, indicate that the deepest shafts extended more than 600 feet, and that more than four miles of passageways lie beneath the otherwise pleasant town of Cheshire. These astonishing estimates make sense when one takes a closer look at the miles of nearby stone walls, many of which were built using leftover blocks of the polychrome ore that weren't rich enough to break apart.
The Cheshire barite mines were abandoned long before the present era of mine safety and environmental regulation. Hence, the abandoned shafts and tunnels were never filled; their supporting timbers having long since rotted away. As the tunnels cave downward, the voids migrate upward, until they reach the surface and begin to swallow soil, one clump at a time, and surface streams that can now be heard (but not seen) trickling in the blackness. Water that entered the ground fresh seeps out somewhere else as mine drainage. Debris dumped in to fill the empty spaces slowly compacts and decomposes, reactivating the subsidence until more fill is needed, again and again.
The collapse is not completely random. Instead, it follows quasi-linear paths parallel to the mined-out veins and horizontal shafts below. One of these paths crosses an old basketball court in Mary's backyard, where the asphalt outlines a miniature rift valley 14 feet wide. Her neighbors tell of other strange tales: of sunken oak trees without visible roots; toppled cedars where surviving limbs became trunks; dank underground passageways complete with rotted door frames; a sequence of sinkholes opening like a zipper from east to west; random pits into which long poles can be inserted without touching bottom; an aboveground swimming pool built over a mine shaft, its water poised to flush down the drain should the earth decide to move abruptly.
Welcome to Cheshire, where town officials don't advertise their unique claim to fame. Mary grew up and went to public school in Cheshire, yet claims to have heard nothing about the town's colorful mining history in her social studies and science classes. After moving to Florida, she returned to buy a house on a lot that soon began to cave in. Rightfully, she wants to know why she wasn't informed about the potential for mine collapse by the town, the bank or the previous owner, especially since her lot lies on a line of sinkholes mapped by a now-defunct engineering consultant to the town. As a matter of public policy, Mary believes that everyone should be made aware of what is mostly an expensive annoyance, but one that is fully capable of swallowing an unsuspecting child.
What's needed is some sort of a ``homeland security'' act for Cheshire residents, one that would map out the abandoned mine workings, determine site-specific threats to safety and property, and put safeguards in place. Otherwise, the fates of residents will be left to chance encounters, to surface failures and drainage changes in places where people live and play, and where their underground utilities -- sewer, electricity, fuel lines -- are buried.
A good start would be to find the almost legendary map of the underground workings, which likely lies in someone's attic or engineering archive. Next would be a spelunking expedition to explore Cheshire's manmade caves.
There is a poignant irony in all this. During Mary's 11 years in Florida, she had reason to worry about sinkholes, a chronic and heavily regulated environmental problem in that soluble-limestone terrain. Moving back, she breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that she was returning to New England's ancient hard-rock terrain. Imagine her chagrin when sinkholes began to take her property down the drain. Imagine her outrage.


Sunday, August 16, 2015

Taking Applications


The Hoy 7 Hunting Team is now taking applications for the 2015-2016 hunting season. If interested please contact Fred G.


Are you employed?

What is The Hoy 7 Hunting Team motto?

Do you own a hunting vehicle?

Do you own your own gun?

Do you have a current hunting license?

Do you own a boat?

Do you own a RV?

Do you have snow shoes?

Whats you favorite wikki? do you enjoy it at 6:30 am?

Can you recognize species of ducks other than the Greenie?

Who is the Best Hunter EVER?

What are your days off? 





Tuesday, August 11, 2015

To the 2 best hunters of the Oregon Chapter




                                             HAPPY BIRTHDAY!




Portland Huntng Trip

I just wanted to say Happy Birthday to the Expert and put a couple of pictures up from the last time I saw him.  He was doing what he loved, washing his truck while Peat and I helped install his new rugs and Bob did nothing useful. The hunting in Portland was great too, pintails everywhere.  Much easier than Idaho.


Wednesday, August 05, 2015

Fish Story

Old friend of the H7HT Bubba Quehl has sent in yet another photo of him with a large fish.  He also made it a point to include no info so I have no choice but to assume how this all went down.

"Hey there master duck slayers of the H7HT, Just wanted you to see this one before I have to return it to the store.  I took this picture and photo shopped myself in a boat on the ocean so I could go see the new RoCom 'Trainwreck' with Amy Schumer.  She sure does crack me up.  In this one she plays a girl looking to find that perfect someone after a near death experience on the Metro North.  (I will likely take Charlie Collins with me to explain the subtleties of the actual train wrecking part) I don't want to spoil it for you but I think she gets the guy in the end.  It also stars that guy from Saturday Night Live or something but we all know that this movie is really all about how she finds true love, even after a horrible near death experience at the hands of those bastards at Amtrack.

It's likely that Jackie is catching on to my ruse.  Every time I come home from 'fishing with the boys' she questions why it looks like I have been tearing up and finds damp Kleenex in my pockets.  Of course I tell her it's from the harshness of the saltwater.  But last week after seeing The Rewrite with Hugh Grant and Merissa Tomei for the 4th time she said there was no way I could have caught an Alaskan salmon in the pond at Mixville park.  Maybe it's time to come clean?


On a side note I just wanted to say again how awesome you all are and maybe someday I will find a way to come hunt ducks with you guys, you are the best after all.  Maybe we could go to Anderson lake and take pictures of me holding a duck.  Then afterwards we could catch a late showing of The Age of Adaline, it's such an underrated performance by Blake Lively."


Thanks for that update Bubba.  We hope to see you in a duck blind soon.

2015 Bob & Fred Golf Challenge

The Best Ever!
Well here it is!
Photos from the Bob & Fred golf challenge of 2015. 
The competition this year was fierce.  We started the challenge with rounds at the beautiful Coeur d'Alene resort course with Mr. Derry Goodson and our Pro for the day Mr. Andy Warburton.  Once again we crushed the course and had a gallery of grounds crew following us in order to see our outstanding play. 
Day 2 took us to the equally scenic Circling Raven Golf Links in Worley Idaho.  We were fortunate that day to be paired with a father son team.  Good thing too because Gary was just about blind but his son Peter, who could hit any green from the tee box, was there to answer this question for all 18 holes.  "Where did my ball go Peter?" They were charming for sure.  Oh, and by the way, we crushed that course too.
The 3rd day took us to Galena Ridge in Kellogg Idaho, the best of the courses out there.  The back and forth battle for match play was raging on and playing the second time around from the black tees made for an interesting challenge.  After a restful day of downhill biking at Cliders creation, the Silver Mountain Bike Park, we finished out the week with a 27 hole marathon at Galena Ridge.
Results:
The 2015 champion and still wearer of the Blue Jacket..........Bob DaFolder!











Always the Blue Jacket Winner

Monday, August 03, 2015

As Summer Draws Near.....

What a summer!  Let's reflect what has all happened in the Cliffy world starting back in May.  Well, Waylon and I went on our Saturday morning stroll and took a new route.  Unfortunately, we walked past some section 8 housing with a pit bull chained up to a post.  The pit bull charged, broke it's chain  and attacked Waylon.  For 10 minutes the 2 dueled (with me in the middle trying to keep them seperate).  The pit bull had the upper hand but after 5 minutes when Waylon shook his leash the tides turned.  At one point I was literally punching Waylon because I thought he was going to kill the pit bull.  After those brutal 10 minutes and someone pulled over to help seperate the dogs, the owners finally came out of the house and the cops showed up.  Waylon ended up with about 10 puncture wounds, but the cops said the pit bull definately looked worse and took the beating.

Then Dave and I went on a Deschutes fishing trip for 3 days.  Well, we missed the final campgrounds and it turned into a 2 day trip.  But, Dave caught a bull trout and I caught a massive hangover!  We then spent the following day playing 27 holes at a local pitch n put and I took over as leader on the money board with a $1 bet.

Don't tell anyone, but Waylon is a Transformer.  He ate a bee and turned into a Shar Pei.  $100 and 2
hours later, he turned back into a Lab.  Remember...don't tell anyone!


What else....... oh ya, I moved a door in the house and had the dining room gutted.  Then, John and I built a new deck!  It's fucking sweet!  Take a look...










We found a dead possum underneath the old deck!  It had been there awhile.




John bought a Yeti cooler cooler for himself (smaller than mine so everyone knows), and we've been doing the following program: 1 layer ice, sprinkle a little rock salt, 1 layer beer x 3 layers.  20 minutes later you have the coldest beer in the world for 3 days.  It's impressive.  In fact, I think I'll go get one right now.  Ya, much better.  John also bought us Yeti insulated mugs.  How did I ever live without this?  Yesterday, John poured me a beer and I drank all but one sip and fell asleep for 2 hours.  When I awoke (still with the beer in hand), I took the last sip and it was as cold as the first.  Then I took it bed as a glass of ice water and when I awoke there was still ice in it.  Amazing!

I'll leave at this for now as I don't have time to write about the garden that I'm completly sick of.  If I have to eat one more tomato, lemon cucumber, zucchini, tomatillo, pepper, eggplant, beet or romesco then I'm gonna throw up all over the neighboor kid and his new drum set.