#tuscarora

Runáʔkę·t - Groundhog

Today marks Punxsutawney Phil’s 140th prediction, calling for 6 more weeks of winter

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Punkwsutènay means “town of the sand flies” or “town of mosquitoes” from Lenape language, specifically punkwës (mosquito/sand fly) and -utènay (town)

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Uhnawiyú·ʔkyę (North Carolina) used to have their own weather predicting Runáʔkę·t named Sir Walter Wally [named after Sir Walter Raleigh for his role in the foundation of the Lost Colony] After 23 years of service and 43% accuracy Sir Walter Wally officially retired in 2023 having given his last prediction in 2022 for 6 more weeks of winter

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Becoming Kahtéhnuʔá·ka💜🌲🌊

Imagining the historic arrival of Tuscarora in the Cypress Islands of Uhnawiyú·ʔkyę (North Carolina) circa 500BCE. [ft. Carolina dog & Carolina parakeet]

Tuscarora, Nevada, is a small unincorporated community in Elko County, nestled at the base of Mount Blitzen on the eastern slope of the Tuscarora Mountains, approximately 50 miles northwest of Elko. Once a bustling mining town with a population exceeding 3,000, it is now a near-ghost town with about 120 residents, known for its historical significance and the internationally renowned Tuscarora…

I hiked in Tuscarora State Forest a few weeks ago. It took a while for me to write about this one - I bit off more than I could chew, and it was rather humbling. I got there around 12:30 - later than I'd meant to.

I parked at the lot around the crosshair and set off on Elk Hill Road, planning to climb up to Laurel Run Road, see the cemetary of the abandoned village near the intersection with Meadows Road, then loop back down Meadows to meet with the Tuscarora Trail to head back to the lot.

The climb up Elk Hill was pleasant. It wasn't terribly sleep, the road was wide gravel, and the rocks were perfect for pissing behind. I'd seen a guy leaving when I came in, but it was totally deserted and quiet otherwise - all I could hear was the wind.

Gaps in the trees occasionally let through incredible vistas. Once again, I'm curious to come back here in spring or summer.

As I got higher in altitude, snow started to reassert itself, and by the time I'd reached the peak and begun to descend, it was covering the whole road. I unleashed the hidden power of my stick Ronald by removing the rubber tip and letting him pierce the ice.

There were dozens of small streams running alongside and down the slope, which was a nice change from total silence and the crunch of ice.

Laurel Run Road was flat, and I actually passed a man in a pickup truck - he would be the last soul I saw for the rest of the evening. I figured I'd be able to get back to the car by 5:30 based on my current pace.

The little path up to the cemetary had no human footprints on it, which was a nice confirmation that I was the first one there in at least a week (last snowfall).

Seems like an ill-omened name for a town.

My father in law had a helicopter flight this month. On January 17, he went up with Johnny Filipini. Johnny Filipini is a nice guy and a great helicopter pilot from near Battle Mountain, Nevada. My father in law had a very light breakfast and then bundled up and headed up with Johnny. Their goal – locate cattle. The count on cattle came up too short; so the thought was that there were hopefully…