Not According to Plan

So on a tip from a work buddy, I started looking for an old iron furnace down in the Southeast corner of the state. I found it, but I didn't factor everything in very well.

First problem was the mud. There's a rather dry looking plain in from of the furnace (which is halfway up a small hill) which actually turns to about 6 inches of mud once you step into it.

The second issue I should have anticipated--bugs. Being out in the middle of a state forest, it stands to reason there'd be all manner of bugs. Mosquitoes, gnats, no-see-ums, horseflies, the whole works. Katie and I were the only large mammals nearby, so they weren't very inclined to leave us alone.

Heat. You'd like in July I'd realize that 4pm was probably the height of the midday heat. Well, I didn't. Sue me.

Then, the fact that the furnace is pretty well grown over from most angles, meaning a little bit of effort was going to be needed to get to where I could get good shots. However, I was not prepared to hiking and climbing. I'd only worn sandals--which were essentially useless once caked in mud. I was in shorts. I didn't have a hiking stick, or any good way to secure the camera (I meant climb--the hill to get above the furnace was pretty sheer and challenging).

I managed to get up above the furnace...but quickly realized that getting to where I needed to take pictures meant moving into the brush. Not my idea of a good time, in tick country, in shorts, with no shoes.

Getting down from that hill? Well. Let's just say I have some luck in those situations.

Long story short (too late), that post is going to have to wait a bit :-) The photos I did get will probably be up on Flickr soon.

Hoover Dam

I've always been fascinated by dams. Small, large, well known landmarks, or tucked away down a dirt access road they're all equally interesting to me. The very idea is simply bad-ass: "I'm going to stop the same force that cut the Grand Canyon." Rushing water is so difficult to contain (as any child with a stream nearby can tell you) seeing situations where its been done successfully gives me a rush of pride at being human.

Hoover Dam is just a hop, skip, and jump from where I lived several years back. I discovered it one morning after a mandatory store meeting, too keyed up to go home but still too early to really do anything. I wish I'd had a camera that day--the mist, the birds, the magic that was in the air would have been perfect for this post. However, you'll just have to settle for some pictures from this weekend.

The View South of the Dam

Hoover Dam, and Hoover Reservoir it created, were not named after Herbert Hoover. They were named for Charles and Clarence Hoover, two brothers who served the Columbus Division of Water. Clarence was a long time superintendent, and Charles the chief chemist who did a brief stint as superintendent after his brother died.

Hoover Memorial Reservoir, as seen from the bridge over Hoover Dam

The dam was built in the mid 1950's as an answer to water shortage problems in the Northside of Columbus. Existing reservoirs at the time were technically sufficient for the water needs of the city...but getting the water to homes and businesses during the summer months took more pumping power than the cities had. So the water works decided to create a reservoir upstream of the city by damming the Big Walnut Creek, and essentially letting the water flow downhill to the Hap Cremean water treatment plant on Morse Road (constructed at roughly the same time as one giant public works project).

Control tower for the intake system and gates

The project included new mains along Morse and Karl to feed this new expansion into the existing system. If you ride on Cherry Bottom Road in Gahanna and look West through the bushes, you can see where water from the Hoover Reservoir winds up--there's a point where the Big Walnut becomes a rather large concrete waterway. The lights and distinctive designs of a water treatment plant are easily seen just a stone's throw away.

One of the gates, viewed from the reservoir side

Different gate from above, but the down-river view. This one shows very well how the gates can hold back the water

Part of Sunbury Road had to be moved out of the way to create the reservoir, and evidently there were objections from Delaware County (where 2/3 of the reservoir actually lies) about having to maintain bridges in place of simple roads. But unlike Quabbin in Massachusetts (or many other examples I don't have a personal connection to) no towns were flooded out to create Hoover.

One of the intakes used to feed the Big Walnut

Where those intakes spit out

There's no electricity being generated at this Hoover Dam, and the intakes are only along the West side. That doesn't make things any less perilous to boaters or swimmers, however:

Nor does it make things less impressive for me. The construction is listed as largely compacted-earth, since there's more of it that looks like a big hill than concrete wall. That didn't stop me from finding plenty to photograph, however.

Yes, that is a hardy little plant hanging onto the side of the dam

One of the advantages to the Reservoir and having a treatment plant down river is boating, fishing, birding, and all manner of recreation has become a huge part of the Hoover Dam and Reservoir area. In addition to falling under the purview of the Division of Water, the Department of Recreation and Parks maintains jogging paths, disc golf, and marinas to add taxpayer value to the property.

It's a short drive to the Hoover Dam area: a quick run along I-270 till you find OH-161, then go East toward New Albany. Take the Sunbury Road exit, turn right and drive till you see the park signs. There's more than enough access and parking for one to enjoy an afternoon out and about.

Just one of the parking areas with access from Sunbury Road

Sources:

Genoa Township Website (especially This and That file)

Wikipedia Page on Hoover Dam

Columbus Division of Water Reservoir Map

Goodale Park

Goodale Park is largely known in the Columbus area as the home of Comfest, and the city's Pride activities. I'm sure that would please the man who donated the land to the city, as he intended the land to be a place for citizens of Columbus to enjoy life. I do wonder how many people know the colorful history behind this park nestled in the middle of a thriving metropolis. Goodale may be smaller in scale than Manhattan's Central Park, but it serves much the same purpose: A peaceful, natural space inside the concrete jungle.

Lincoln Goodale, as a child, was part of the earliest contingent of settlers in Ohio. How early, you ask? Early enough that his father was kidnapped by Native Americans and never seen again. Furthermore the loss of one man nearly precipitated the collapse of the settlement of Belpre because Nathan Goodale was responsible for its defense.

Lincoln Goodale grew up and became a doctor. By most accounts he was the first practicing physician in Franklin County. Goodale opened a pharmacy to supplement his income, and invested the profits in real estate--well before the Columbus area was slated to become the state's capital. After serving in the War of 1812 as a regimental surgeon, Goodale began the first of several mercantile businesses and further real estate deals. I tell you all this to point out Lincoln Goodale was a very successful man, constantly building on his successes.

By 1864, Goodale's annual income was marked at $67,213--again, those are 1864 dollars, kids. Goodale did very well for himself, and his philanthropic endeavors certainly reflect that, including the donation of the land for Goodale Park in 1851.

The catch in donating this extremely valuable piece of land (even in 1851, it was prime real estate and only getting more valuable) was a series of stipulations that would ensure it's use as a park and nothing more, including a ban on wantonly cutting down trees and building a fence around the grounds--the full list can be found here, 5th paragraph from the bottom.

It worked pretty well. Except for a spell as Union army Camp Jackson during the Civil War when trees were downed and things were generally torn up and beaten down, the park has stayed open and available to the people as a peaceful space. I tried to imagine while taking the photos below how truly idyllic the space must have seemed in the heyday of the Gilded Age, with coal stacks belching smoke and horseshit laced mud mucking up the streets.

Of course, like most things that truly serve the public Goodale Park was used as a political tool, being improved or neglected as seemed to best suit the people in power at the time. Various improvements were made to the park, including a menagerie, an impressive gate (see below), and a lake complete with boathouse. I highly encourage you to click thru to read about the shenanigans revolving around the lake and Superintendent Topping, circa 1890.

Today there aren't many shenanigans, but the lake provides a view of twin elephants spraying water, and has some nice flowers planted alongside the footpath.

While the boat house, stables, and menagerie are long gone Goodale does have a couple structures remaining. Notably, the gazebo (where Katie and I are saying our vows in the fall) and shelter house.

The shelter house was built in 1912, primarily to incorporate the use of gas and electricity into a park structure. It's substantial look is no accident--the designers deliberately chose to use natural, strong materials as a reaction to the shoddy construction borne of the industrial revolution (called the Arts and Crafts movement). This would have been especially at odds with the local buildings of Flytown, a section of the city said to have "flown up" overnight (and by simple deduction we can assume they weren't constructed nearly as well as the Shelter House.

I'm wiling to bet you've driven under Park St.

Heading East on I-670, Goodale is to your left--that bridge is Park St

Heading West on I-670, Goodale is to the right, just before the Neil Ave exit

While Goodale Park is an excellent place to sit and watch the ducks, reminders that Columbus is all around are not far away. Skyscrapers, the Convention Center, and Interstate highways are all just a short walk from this little green paradise.

My final shot for this post is a patch of asphalt, because as our society is in flux so is our definition of public land use. Is the best use of land green space? Shops to buy ice cream and tank tops? More parking? Not so long ago, it seems, there was something man-made here at the edge of the park (a different path, perhaps?), before it was rethought. It's not so difficult to cover up green space--but covering up parts of the city after it creeps in is a completely different and more challenging proposition.

For more on Goodale Park, I'd like to direct you to the places below:
Columbus Parks
Friends of Goodale Park
Short North Gazette