You spell it Hogue, I spell it Hoge…let’s call the whole thing off

So I’ve been politely poking fun at KFYR-TV and others like my friend Mark who keep referring to “Hogue Island” online. I’ve always known the Hoge Island Boat Landing, the Hoge Field model aircraft club, and the like…so where did the U come from?

Bringing this up to Mark, he told me to “read the signs!” Always willing to double check myself, I decided to take the long way home after work and investigate. Guess what: Hoge. Look above and see for yourself. Case closed, right? Nope.

It looks like these signs have been corrected to indicate “Hoge Island” but did originally say “Hogue”. You can see from this photo where the “ue” has been covered and replaced with an “e” to alter the spelling. Did the makers of the original sign make the same “error” that Mark and others have made? Not quite…it appears there may be some actual contention on the spelling.

I was hoping that it might be as simple as looking for a Hoge Township on the Burleigh County map (PDF), but sadly that did not yield the intended result. Burleigh County itself refers to the area as Hoge Island. So how do I try to get an authoritative, definitive answer?

Well, while I’ve actually been wondering about this since late May or early June, it turns out that the Bismarck Tribune has been on top of it. They did this story on the matter back in June and discovered that two branches of the family which once owned the land in the area spelled their last name in two different ways. So we’re BOTH right. Thanks to Chris Bjorke for the legwork on this one.

I knew a guy in college whose last name is Hoag. I wonder if he’d want to chime in on the matter

The most expensive way to NOT make a difference

The wind farms popping up around North Dakota are the bane of the photographer. They spoil fantastic views of pristine landscapes, often sitting idle while they do so. I agree with much of Dennis Stillings says in one of articles about these “Prairie Pinwheels”. Many of his works published in the Dakota Beacon Magazine.

The machine pictured above, visible on the west side of Highway 83 as you approach Minot, has sat broken for many weeks. I think it’s a pretty good picture of the dependability of wind power. When there’s not enough wind, they don’t function. When there’s too much wind, they don’t function. When they do, they put the hippies in a quandary when they start killing birds in the name of being “Green™.” Oh yeah…and they’re LOUD.

I “re-appropriated” the title of this post from the folks at Envirogy, a website which has collected a number of studies dispelling the myth of wind power as a panacea. In fact, the opposite could be demonstrated to be true. Compiling studies from places such as windaction.org, they are able to point out the flaws in the utopian view of impact-free windmills churning peacefully across the fruited plane, freeing us from the shackles of evil corporations. Take a look at this article and the studies linked therein.

When life gives you lemons, you of course make lemonade…but don’t dare let your little kids sell it, or the government will shut them down for not having a pile of required licenses and permits. In the case of the wind towers, however, there are occasionally some photographic opportunities. This is one of them. I spotted it several evenings ago when I happened to be in the right place at the right time, which for me is a large chunk of photography’s appeal. I had to maneuver a little bit to get to the right position, but things aligned themselves almost automatically.

There you have it, the musings of someone who doesn’t drink the “renewable energy” Kool-Aid, some web links to provide a little weekend reading, and of course another windmill photo of sorts. Have a great weekend!

I’m not sure what it is, but it’s in season

My guess it’s a combine, but it might as well be a white whale. This piece of equipment sits just east of north 26th Street at the intersection where the road transitions from pavement to gravel. It’s on private property that’s posted, so any photography has to be done from the fence line. To complicate matters, it sits at such an angle that its side is obscured by its shadow for most of the year.

That’s where the calendar comes into play. In mid-June when the days are longest, the sun sets farther north than during most of the year. At that point it’s just far enough to illuminate part of this machine, as you can see here. It still has a shadow cast along part of the side, but at least the main workings are seeing direct light.

One of the things that has intrigued me the most about photography, at least the type of photography which I pursue, is that timing is everything. I’ve taken photos of this machine during the summer, winter, and all points in between. It wasn’t until I made a point of remembering to visit in late June that I was finally able to get a shot like this one. Maybe next June I’ll try it at sunrise!