What's the biggest living thing? What's the oldest? I was considering this the other day, and quickly found myself going head-first into an internet rabbit hole.

For the oldest living animals, I was first thinking about tortoises. Adwaita, whose name meant "unique" in Sanskrit, was an Aldabra giant tortoise who died in Kolkata, India in 2006. The estimates of his age vary between a minimum of 150 years to possibly more than 250 years. Other giant tortoises who reached a seemingly ridiculous age include Harriet, a Galapagos tortoise who, at the time of her death in 2006 (apparently a bad year for tortoises), was estimated to be 175 years old, and Tu'i Malila, a radiated tortoise, who was an estimated 188 years old when he died in 1965. All three tortoises have connections with famous Englishmen; Adwaita was once gifted to Robert Clive (Clive of India) in the 18th century, Charles Darwin allegedly collected Harriet on his Beagle voyage, and Tu'i Malila was given to the Tongan royal family by Captain James Cook in 1777.

Walter Rothschild on Rotumah, a Galapagos tortoise that he found living in the grounds of an Australian lunatic asylum (photograph by CJ Cornish, 1902, via archive.org) 

Other reptiles live for a long time, too, but not for as long as tortoises. There is a tuatara (it's a type of lizard, the only one native to New Zealand) living at the Southland Museum in Invercargill, named Henry, who is 115 years old, and successfully bred with an 80 year old female (named Mildred) for the first time in 2009.

Henry the elderly tuatara in Invercargill, New Zealand (via Wikimedia)

Birds can also live for quite some time. Fred the Cockatoo recently received a letter from the Queen (as all citizens of the Commonwealth do) when he celebrated his 100th birthday at Bonorong Wildlife Sanctuary near Hobart, and it is not unheard of for cockatoos to reach 120 years old. 120 years old, by the way, is quite close to the record for the oldest ever human, a record which is held by Jeanne Calment, who died in 1997 at the age of 122.

Aquatic animals seem to do a bit better than terrestrial ones in the age stakes. There are Antarctic sponges with approximated ages in the 10,000 year range, and several coral genera are estimated to be more than 2,000 years old. Other ancient aquatic animals include the ocean quahog (oldest on record: 507 years); the Bowhead whale (211 years old, some still have harpoons from the 19th century embedded in their skins); the Orange roughy (a type of Perch) can live for up to 156 years; and the oldest koi fish ever died in 1977 at the age of 226 (her name was Hanako). There is also a centenarian orca, named Granny, who is 103, and there was a European Eel who died this year (named Ale), who was allegedly 155 at his death in a Swedish well.

But what is the biggest living thing?

At first, I was picturing the blue whale. Naturally, whales spring to mind; they're freaking enormous. Then I started to think about extinct animals, like the dinosaur Dreadnoughtus (85 feet long, or 26 meters, and weighing 65 tons). I was surprised that the blue whale is bigger than any dinosaur we know of — at 98 feet long (30 meters) and weighing 190 tons, it shows off the benefits of living in the buoyancy of the oceans when it comes to reaching a truly astounding size. Their tongues alone weigh 2.7 tons, their hearts can reach 900kg, and their penises are longer than a human (8-10 feet long).

Size comparison with a blue whale (created by SameerPrehistorica) 

But it's not just the animal kingdom that gets a say in the contest of the largest living thing. Indeed, the largest living thing is not an animal. 

So what is it?

First things first, let's get the Gaia hypothesis out of the way. There is no current evidence for this theory, developed by James Lovelock in the 1970s, that the Earth, or Gaia, is a super-organism. So if it's not Gaia, and it's not the obvious choice of the blue whale, what is the largest living organism on Earth?

Well, that depends on how you define the word "organism." The Great Barrier Reef, for instance, is considered a "super-organism," as it is a structure built by living entities, and stretches over 2,000 kilometers. Other examples of super-organisms include eusocial insects such as ants and bees, but these are also not considered single, large organisms.

An example of Armillaria ostoyae (photograph by H. Krisp/Wikimedia)

The largest living thing in the world (and quite possibly the oldest) is a fungus, just like the one pictured above. It's 2,400 years old, and sprawls across 2,200 acres. Living in Oregon, in the Malheur National Forest, it is estimated to weigh 630 tons. Known as the Humongous Fungus, it is a type of honey mushroom, which in Eastern European countries like Ukraine, Russia, and Poland is considered to be a delicacy (although it needs to be thoroughly cooked to destroy its mild poison). It doesn't look like much; most of the weight of this huge mushroom is underground (the mycelium), and all you'll see are the heads (or fruiting bodies).  

It is also bioluminescent, which is something I would like to see: a forest lit up by the mushroom that is slowly destroying it.

Everyone's favorite, flammable 40-foot Christmas goat is back! The Gävle Goat is a giant straw Yule Goat constructed each year in Gävle, Sweden, since 1966. Unfortunately, it's also become an annual tradition for hooligans to torch the festive animal.

Despite local officials' confidence that it would survive last year, the Gävlebocken as he's known burned on December 21. This year there's reportedly bigger security, but with everything from helicopter theft attempts to a Gingerbread Man pyromaniac in the past, we wouldn't necessarily bet against some holiday flames. 

Below we've updated our Unfortunate Fates of the Gävle Goat Timeline for 2014! Created by Atlas Obscura's graphic designer Michelle Enemark, scroll right to follow Volvo attacks, sabotage, and, of course, arson. You can also follow the Gävle Goat on his charming Twitter, and watch the live web cam at the Visit Gävle website.

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Quagga skeleton in the Grant Museum of Zoology (photograph by Emőke Dénes/Wikimedia)

London's Grant Museum of Zoology, established in 1828, is home to an incredible range of about 67,000 specimens. Some of the top objects include bisected heads, anatomically perfect glass models of invertebrates, and a jar of whole preserved moles. The museum is also home to some of the rarest skeletons in the world — some of which are in danger. Through the project Bone Idols: Protecting Our Iconic Skeletons, the museum will work to conserve 39 of its rarest and most significant skeletons, some of which have been on display for more nearly two centuries. And you can help!

The Grant Museum was founded as a teaching institution, so visitors, students, and researchers are encouraged to get up close and personal with the specimens. But that access leaves the museum's pieces open to the elements, putting them in danger of deterioration and wear. In addition, many of the century-old pieces are mounted and displayed on and with outdated materials, so part of the project will be to update these displays. Much of the conservation work will be done in the museum's gallery, letting visitors experience an aspect of museum life that is rarely seen.

Among the 39 skeletons to be cleaned and remounted are some truly incredible specimens. There's the quagga, a South African zebra that has been extinct since 1883; the Grant Museum's skeleton is one of only seven in the world. There's the Ganges river dolphin, an endangered animal that is nearly blind and likes to play. There's the skull of a giant deer, an Ice Age animal that went extinct 7,000 years ago, whose antlers were nearly twice as tall as he was. These specimens are effectively uncollectible today.

The museum has launched its first-ever public fundraising campaign to support this project. Watch the clip below to learn more about Bone Idols, and click here to help save some of the world's rarest skeletons.

Around the world are waterfalls that seem frozen in time. Known as travertine terraces, these step-like geological formations are the result of thousands of years of the Earth's thermal interior interacting with its exterior. Usually this occurs at a hot spring positioned on a slope. When scalding water full of carbon dioxide forms carbonic acid and flows through porous limestone, it dissolves it and carries along calcium carbonate, which is then deposited on the surface as travertine. This type of limestone, which appears blindingly white, was used to build structures around the ancient world including the Colosseum.

Here are eight of the most stunning of these otherworldly travertine terraces. 

PAMUKKALE WATER TERRACES
Denizli, Turkey

Pamukkale in 2011 (photograph by Antoine Taveneaux/Wikimedia)

Near the ancient city of Hierapolis in Turkey, the Pamukkale Water Terraces still have Roman ruins from their long allure as a destination. Recent protection to preserve the area has limited swimming, a move to keep that pristine white-as-snow nature of the surreal terraces. 

Roman ruins consumed by Pamukkale (photograph by Donar Reiskoffer/Wikimedia)

Pamukkale in 2008 (photograph by Lili ep/Wikimedia)

Pamukkale in 2011 (photograph by Esther Lee/Flickr)

HUANGLONG TRAVERTINE TERRACES
Aba, China

Huanglong Terraces (photograph by chensiyuan/Wikimedia)

Known as the "dragon" for their winding shape, the Huanglong Travertine Terraces in southern China flow for 2.2 miles. A temple was built near the source of the hot spring, and with mountains and forests rising on either side, the Huanglong Valley has diverse and dynamic vistas of geological change. 

The Huanglong Terraces & temple in 2009 (photograph by sung ming whang/Flickr)

Huanglong Terraces in 2006 (photograph by Toshiyuki IMAI/Flickr)

MAMMOTH HOT SPRINGS
Yellowstone National Park, Wyoming, United States

Mammoth Hot Springs in Yellowstone National Park (photograph by Brocken Inaglory/Wikimedia)

Perhaps the most famous of travertine terrraces is Mammoth Hot Springs in Wyoming's Yellowstone National Park. With two tons of calcium carbonate flowing each day, they're also constantly morphing in shape through the geothermal activity, with the terraces you see one day never exactly the same as the next. 

Boardwalks over Mammoth Hot Springs in 2014 (photograph by Dschwen/Wikimedia)

Mammoth Hot Springs in 2010 (photograph by HylgeriaK/Wikimedia)

BADAB-E SURT
Mazandaran Province, Iran

Badab-e Surt in Iran (photograph by Siamaksabet/Wikimedia)

Northern Iran's Badab-e Surt is formed by two distinct mineral hot springs, one of which tints the terraces a unique orange color from an infusion of iron oxide. The reddish steps also give the waters a sharp contrast as they reflect the sky above like a mirror.

Badab-e Surt in 2012 (photograph by Siamaksabet/Wikimedia)

Badab-e Surt in 2010 (photograph by Samaee/Wikimedia)

WHITE WATER TERRACE
Shangri-La, China

White Water Terraces in China (photograph by Ariel Steiner/Wikimedia)

The White Water Terraces near the village of Shangri-La in China certainly resemble a mythical paradise. The terraces at the bottom of the Haba Snow Mountains are some of the country's largest, with areas of flowing water and others of gentle pools rippling in the white travertine. 

White Water Terrace in 2009 (photograph by cammy8888/Flickr)

TERME DI SATURNIA
Saturnia, Italy

Terme di Saturnia, Italy (photograph by Raimond Spekking/Wikimedia)

The Terme di Saturnia near Saturnia, Italy, is more accessible than the other terraces. With sulfurous water flowing at temperatures up to 100 degrees Fahrenheit, the terraces create welcoming geothermal hot tubs. Although Saturnia has a population under 300, the terraced spring with its appealing pools still draw regular visitors for a therapeutic swim. 

Terme di Saturnia in 2013 (photograph by Diana Corridori/Flickr)

Terme di Saturnia in 2005 (photograph by Rutger Vos/Flickr)

ŠKOCJAN CAVES
Divača, Slovenia

Škocjan Caves, Slovenia. (photograph by Husond/Wikimedia)

Below the surface, a similar geological feature known as rimstone can be found in caves, such as the Škocjan Caves of Slovenia. Like the terraces on the surface, rimstone is shaped by minerals like calcite flowing constantly over time. 

PINK AND WHITE TERRACES
Waimangu, New Zealand

Pink & White Terraces in New Zealand, illustrated in 1867 by E. Saute (via British Library)

Finally, these terraces might seem peaceful, but they signal incredible geothermal activity. Lake Rotomahana in New Zealand was a 19th-century destination for its Pink and White Travertine Terraces. Then in 1886, Mount Tarawera erupted, and the volcano destroyed the terraces and killed over 100 people. Fragmented remains of the terraces were found in 2011 below the lake, but otherwise they're just a memory. However the natural disaster did leave behind a new wonder: Frying Pan Lake in the Waimangu Volcanic Rift Valley, one of the largest hot springs in the world.

Harvard Exit Theatre (via Facebook)

For decades, the three-story brick building on the corner of Broadway and East Roy in Seattle's Capitol Hill has felt like a portal into the past. Nestled on a tree-lined street, its lobby padded by plush carpeting and rich red drapes, the Harvard Exit has always felt like an echo of a more elegant era. But the building, constructed by a women's group in 1925 and transformed into one of the city's first art theatres in the 1960s, is now set for a new chapter.

In early December, the Landmark Theatre chain — which has operated the site as a theatre since 1979 — announced its screens would go dark by mid-January. A local developer known for historic re-use projects is reportedly the new owner, although the ultimate fate of the building remains unclear.

Lobby of the Harvard Exit (photograph by Mariano/Flickr)

The Harvard Exit was famous in Seattle for several reasons. Known for showing independent, arty, and foreign films, and for hosting film festivals, it was an important part of the city's alternative culture for decades. The lobby (complete with grand piano, fireplace, and chandelier) was the most charming of any movie theatre in town, a far cry from the stained carpet and noxious faux-butter fumes of most establishments. But beyond the fine films and furnishings, the building had a reputation for ghosts, including claims that the city's first and only female mayor, Bertha Landes, was known to haunt the building.

The site also played a less well-known role in local women's history. It was constructed in 1925 as the headquarters for the Women's Century Club, a local educational and social group. Founded in July 1891 by ten women, including suffragist Carrie Chapman Catt (later the founder of League of Women Voters), the club paid the salary of the city's first librarian, led a fight to raise the age of consent from 12 to 18 years old, and helped pass a law against public spitting. Club members also sponsored an 1896 visit to the city by Susan B. Anthony, and, in 1933, Amelia Earhart, then on tour in support of her second autobiography, The Fun of It. (The talk was a bonanza for local schoolchildren, who were given early dismissal and ferried in special streetcars to hear Earhart speak; the local Campfire Girls named her Seattle's Most Distinguished Visitor of the Year.) Landes, elected mayor of Seattle in 1926, served as the club president from 1918 to 1920.

Front of the Harvard Exit, with the Women's Century Club signage (photograph by Joe Mabel/Wikimedia)

The club sold the building in 1968, and it was re-opened as the Harvard Exit theatre shortly afterward by two civic-minded local film buffs, Art Bernstein and and Jim O'Steeb. Both were active on a community council planning committee, and wanted to preserve the shady corner from being overtaken by the commercial bustle on Broadway. A clause in the contract required that the Club, which is still active today, be allowed to meet in the parlor. The group still owns the room's furnishings, and their name is preserved above the doors on the building's red brick and emerald-green exterior. Now, they will have to find a new home.

Seattle poet Sarah Galvin, who worked at the Harvard Exit for seven years, recently wrote a lovely remembrance of the place that details its delight and weirdness. She says people regularly came in seeking ghosts — one woman dug into a basement wall looking for a skeleton — and notes that staff were fascinated by a second-floor shower with its own urinal (aka “the Shurinal”), as well as secret room hidden by a staircase. She also reports rumors that the basement once served as a refuge for patrons fleeing a speakeasy hosted in an ice cream parlor next door during Prohibition.

The building has been a regular stop on ghost tours, with the supposed spooky activity said to be concentrated on the third floor. There are reports of strange noises, dark shadows, and unsettling occurrences, including one notable occasion when the manager opened the theatre in the morning to discover the fire he'd put out the night before inexplicably roaring again in the lobby. The room's chairs had also been drawn into a circle — as if some of the club's earliest members had returned for one last meeting. Whether the reports of spirits will remain when the building is redeveloped is anyone's guess, but here's hoping its history isn't forgotten anytime soon.

Lobby of the Harvard Exit (photograph by Joe Wolf/Flickr)

Harvard Exit lobby (photograph by Andi Szilagyi/Flickr)

Sunset at Lajedo de Pai Mateus in Brazil (all photographs by the author)

Each winter, tourists flock to northeast Brazil for its white sand and palm-lined beaches alongside turquoise waters. The Sertão, the region behind those beaches, is known for little else but poverty and harsh living conditions. Yet the interior is not only a repository of Brazil's most ancient history found in Serra Capivara National Park, but is also home to a natural phenomenon called Lajedo de Pai Mateus in the state of Paraíba.

Lajedo is the Portuguese word for a "collection of stones." In northeast Brazil, lajedo is specifically used to indicate an otherworldly collection of eroded, granite boulders on the top of a hill. To get to these boulders, you need to drive some 200 kilometers inland of João Pessoa, a city along the Atlantic coast. The boulders are on the ranch of Hotel Fazenda Pai Mateus, from where a guide can take you for a short ride in four-wheel drive to the foot of a smoothly polished stone. After an easy climb to the dome of the rock, you have a 360-degree view of Caatinga vegetation, characterized by stunted trees, green in the rainy season. In the dry season, the forest sheds its leaves and the landscape turns white (Caatinga means "white forest" in the Tupi language).

Here, on top of that rock, you view dozens of boulders that are a testimony to the forces of nature. It is an odd sight, with bare boulders balancing on top of an already bare rock. It makes you wonder if the gods were playing a French game of boules and left the metal balls behind. Erosion is a more scientifically plausible explanation, however.

Wind not only gave the boulders smooth, round, or oval shapes, but the heat reflecting from the bare rock combined with fierce winds caused the boulders to form hollows. The most aptly named boulder is Pedra de Capacete: the Helmet Stone. Similar sites have been found only in Namibia (Erongo Mountains) and Australia (Devil's Marbles). Yet the boulders of Pai Mateus are not just a fascinating natural phenomenon; their existence is intertwined with inhabitation in the area.

This is the Cariri Region. It used to be home to Cariri indigenous people who lived in the area for some 10,000 years. Archaeological evidence shows they also lived in the hollowed boulder shelters. The Cariri were considered a tough tribe, and are still admired for the long time they succeeded in keeping out the Portuguese invaders. When they did have to surrender, they kept resisting to slavery, and refused to mix with the colonizers.

Unfortunately, they ultimately suffered the same fate as the majority of Brazil's indigenous tribes and were wiped out. On some of the boulders you can still see vague, ancient rock paintings; it is all that remains of the original inhabitants.

Pedra de Capacete

Rock painting on a boulder

Nothing is known about the region's inhabitants until the 18th century, when an eccentric appeared on the scene, seemingly from nowhere. He called himself Pai Mateus, but nobody knows whether this was his real name. He was a curandero — healer — and lived as a hermit under one of the boulders. His bed and table made of stone are still there.

Local people came to him, asking to be cured. According to legend, he prayed to his gods in order to learn what was wrong with his visitors, and subsequently healed them with medicinal plants. After ten or fifteen years he moved on just as suddenly as he had arrived, and nobody ever knew where he went.

As I walked among the boulders, feeling the heat of the stones and taking in the views, the sun started to set. The sky suddenly burst with colors, as if somebody just set off some gigantic fireworks. I felt the energy so many others have felt there, and took in this wondrous landscape shaped by boulders, the history of Cariri indigenous people, and Pai Mateus. I felt the history, not just of the (relatively) recent inhabitants, but of eternity. This is a place to turn inward for a moment, to be wrapped up in the beauty and wonders of nature.

All photographs by the author.

Museum curators and caretakers work hard to make their buildings and collections inviting and accessible, but a lot goes on behind the scenes to keep these cultural edifices running, most of which the general public is never granted access to. From collections deemed too scandalous for society's delicate sensibilities to strange practices that enable curators and designers to do their work, many museums have a secret room (or two or ten) well out of the public eye. Here are a few of those, full of books, boobs, and beetles.

Secretum in the British Museum

The Bodhisattva Tara, one of the earliest items in the Secretum (photograph by Gryffindor/Wikimedia)

Founded in 1865 in the wake of the Obscene Publications Act (1857), the British Museum's Secretum — originally called the "Cabinet of Obscene Objects" — was basically a repository for antique porn. Containing some 200 "abominable monuments to human licentiousness," the secret room required a special permit for entrance, which was only granted to people "of mature years and sound morals." The collection included antiquities like wax votive phalluses from churches in Isernia, 18th-century animal-membrane condoms tied with silk ribbons, and a Victorian reproduction of a medieval chastity belt. In the last fifty years, most of the objects that originally filled the Secretum have been dispersed to other museums and collections where they fit thematically or chronologically, but about half of the early objects remain locked away in the Department of Medieval and Later Antiquities.

Gabinetto Segreto in the Naples National Archaeological Museum

 "Pan copulating with goat," one of the most famous objects in the Naples Museum collection (photograph by Kim Traynor/Wikimedia) 

Another case of keeping explicit materials out of sight of the respectable, upstanding citizenry, the Gabinetto Segreto housed explicit artifacts from Pompeii starting in 1821. These included erotic frescoes, phallic lamps, stone phalluses, and bronze statues of nudes. Only men of education and means were admitted to the Secret Cabinet, and only for a time — in 1849 it was bricked up. The Gabinetto was re-opened and re-closed several more times, and in 2005 it was moved to a separate room in the Naples National Archaeological Museum, where it remains. 

Restricted Aboriginal Objects at the National Museum of Australia

Aboriginal pearl shell ornaments exhibited in the Australian Museum (photograph by Schomynv/Wikimedia)

Unlike collections that are hidden because of antiquated notions of cultural propriety, the National Museum of Australia restricts its Aboriginal art out of respect. David Kaus, Senior Curator of the museum's Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Programs, wrote a long report detailing the museum's policies and practices regarding sacred Aboriginal ceremonial and art objects, including bark paintings, carved stones, photographs, and recordings of secret songs. In it he says, "It is the responsibility of museums to respect the cultures they want to depict. The public use of Aboriginal secret/sacred objects is not consistent with this responsibility." Access to the restricted objects requires permission from traditional Aboriginal custodians, and the museum also has a diligent repatriation program that strives to return these objects to their rightful custodians. 

Chicago Field Museum's Flesh-Eating Beetle Room

Dermestid beetles eating the tissue from skulls (photograph by JimJones1971/Wikimedia)

The Chicago Field Museum has a lot of secrets. There's the Bird Egg Collection, with over 500,000 specimens; the Rare Book Room, containing some 7,500 volumes and 3,000 works of art; and the Collections Resource Center, a $65 million, 186,000-square-foot underground facility that houses more than 13 million museum specimens and objects when they're not on display. But the strangest secret of all is the flesh-eating beetle room.

Dermestid beetles are well known to taxidermists and have been used in natural history museums since 19th-century France. The scavengers are even sometimes known as "museum beetles." It takes a colony from a few days to a few weeks to remove all skin, brains, and guts from a deceased animal, leaving its clean bones ready for museum use. The Field Museum's beetle room is filled with drying racks for carcasses (dermestid beetles won't eat moist flesh), nine tanks where the work gets done, a freezer where the finished skeletons are held until they're needed, and literally millions of beetles. (To see them in action, head over to this Chicago Tribune piece.)

Frick Secret Rooms

The Frick Collection (photograph by calamity_sal/Flickr)

The Frick Collection is in the former home of steel magnate Henry Frick, on Manhattan's Upper East Side. It contains a large number of paintings, sculpture, and furniture by some of the best-known European artists from the 13th through the 19th centuries. The mansion, built in 1913, was once the Frick family's residence, and there are many rooms that are closed off to the public. Some of these include a two-lane bowling alley built in 1914, a billiards room, a woodshop, and a tiny diner. 

Secret Insect Room in the World Museum in Liverpool

 Beetle collection (photograph via Fir0002/Wikimedia)

At Liverpool's World Museum, a secret room holds about a million pinned insects, sorted and stored in dozens of cupboards. It's one of the largest insect collections in the UK, and was started in 1855 by the 13th Earl of Darby. The collection features thousands of specimens from around the world, including the moth with the largest wingspan and the world's largest beetle, the Goliath Beetle from Africa. It also includes some very rare specimens, including a collection of 5,000 beetles brought to Liverpool by a Swiss entomologist in 1849. 

Vatican Archivum Secretum

Mappa mundi in the Vatican Library (photograph via LeastCommonAncestor/Wikimedia)

The Vatican's secret archives are not much of a secret, though access is highly restricted. They are the property of the Pope and encompass more than 50 miles of shelves, containing books, documents, correspondence, and ephemera dating back to the 8th century, as well as Papal account books and state papers. In order to gain access to the archives, one must request a specific item — not an easy task, since only a fraction of the archives has been catalogued. Another secret room, the 200-foot-high Tower of the Winds, is only accessible via the secret archives.

Restricted Areas of the Intrepid

USS Intrepid (photograph by Ad Meskens/Wikimedia)

Before being decommissioned in 1974, the USS Intrepid was used in World War II, the Vietnam War, and the Cold War, as well as serving as a NASA recovery vessel. Now it lives in the Hudson River as the main attraction of the Intrepid Sea, Air & Space Museum, along with the submarine USS Growler, a Concorde SST, the space shuttle Enterprise, and more. Many areas of these vessels have been fully restored and maintained for public view, but there are other parts, behind closed doors, that have been left untouched except by time for 40+ years. In 2012 some behind-the-scenes tours were given, and journalists could see the command center, the engine room, and all manner of abandoned detritus, from socks to soda cans. Head to The Blaze for a selection of photos.

Vogelsang in East Germany (all photographs by the author)

Lurking in a Brandenburg forest north of Berlin is a hidden city with a sinister past being quietly erased off the face of the Earth.

It's so secret, no locals were allowed near it, no local officials informed of its Cold War activities. This was one party where the guests told the hosts they weren't welcome. 

Vogelsang in East Germany was where the Soviet Union once had atomic weapons primed for Western Europe, ready to launch in retaliation for a preemptive strike or in preemption of an imminent retaliation. Now the whole site is abandoned, eerie, still, with curtains fluttering through broken school, shop, and barrack windows. Giant bunkers on the garrison's outskirts stand empty and desolate, doors creaking forlornly, their stash of deadly nukes gone and with it their raison d'être. Germany would rather forget this ghost town ever existed, despite the remaining Soviet art, the murals, or Lenin's statue. Demolition workers are knocking it down so the forest can move back in.

The Soviets began clearing and constructing on the 2,000-hectare site in 1951. The garrison, one of the few complexes purpose-built by the Russians, became home to around 15,000 soldiers and civilians, some 550 buildings, lots of tanks, anti-aircraft missiles, tactical missiles, and nuclear missiles. Soldiers carried out maneuvers at night to avoid Allied surveillance, and locals had no idea what was going on behind those guarded walls.

As part of "Operation Atom," R5-M (SS-3 Shyster) missiles were brought here and to another base at nearby Neuthymen (Fürstenberg) by the elite 72nd RVGK Engineer Brigade in January of 1959. The nuclear warheads followed in mid-April. Four of the weapons were apparently aimed at England, to take out Thor (PGM-17) missile bases in Norfolk and Lincolnshire, while others were for United States air bases in Western Europe, and still others pointed at population centers such as London, Paris, Brussels, the Ruhrgebiet, and Bonn. Each missile weighed 29.1 tons and was 20.74 meters long. They were over 20 times more powerful than the bomb dropped on Hiroshima. Four mobile launching units and 12 missiles were ready for deployment between the two bases, capable of striking targets up to 1,200 kilometers away.

The East Germans were not informed, and the missiles were delivered under cover of darkness using back roads so they wouldn't find out. "The Soviet Army leadership did not give the GDR (German Democratic Republic) military leadership any information about the stationing of missiles in Vogelsang and Fürstenberg. In my position at the time as head of the GDR air force, I had no knowledge of any action of that type," General Heinz Kessler said in 1999.

The Russians withdrew the weapons in a hurry after just a few months, in August, likely for political reasons with Nikita Khrushchev visiting American counterpart Dwight Eisenhower in September. However, another sneaky deployment — this time with R-12 (SS-4 Sandal) nuclear missiles capable of reaching 2,000 kilometers — was supposed to have been sent here between 1961 and 1962 during the top secret "Operatsiya Tuman." It was so secret, not even the soldiers knew where they were being deployed.

"Officers and career servicemen for a long time had no clue that the road ahead of them crosses the western border of the USSR and transited to the GDR," reported the commander in charge, Colonel Vladimir Aleksandrov from Smolensk. He left for Berlin on September 17, going first to Wünsdorf — where Soviet military forces in Germany were headquartered — then up to Vogelsang and Fürstenberg with his team to make preparations for deployment.

Launch sites were constructed close to both bases, buildings and storage facilities built, communications equipment provided, and slabs were laid for command vehicles, launch vehicles, and technical batteries. "Road signs were put up, repairs were made to the road bed and bridges were reinforced. Work was performed to camouflage both BSPs (launch sites)," Col. Aleksandrov said.

With preparations completed, he returned to the USSR on October 11. The new independent missile regiment set up at Zhitkovichi (Belarus), and underwent training over November and December before waiting another month for the order to leave for the GDR. "Everyone agonized from the suspense. But the command to load up never came," Col. Aleksandrov said. "On several occasions I reported to division command [...] but each time I got the same answer: 'Wait. Increase the regiment's training and combat readiness'."

In the end, the Soviet Union's production of the R-14 Chusovaya missile (SS-5 Skean), with its much greater range, eliminated the need for armed nuclear missiles in Germany. Col. Aleksandrov was given the order to disband on July 12, 1962.

Meanwhile, there was enough going on through the Cold War and beyond to keep Vogelsang busy. The Red Army's 25th Tank Division was based here, and there were apparently further nuclear dalliances with the storage of TR-1 (SS-12 Scaleboard) missiles between 1983 and 1988. The Russians didn't leave until 1994.

Now the whole site is being torn down. Mechanical rubble makers have already chewed their way through a sizable chunk of history from the north, and they’ll keep going until it's gone. Vogelsang is huge, though, and no matter how hard they try, they will never fully erase the traces of its Soviet past.

Ciarán Fahey explores the stunning ruins of Germany at Abandoned Berlin, where you can discover more of his photographs and writing.

Paul Cézanne, "Still life with skull, candle, and book" (via Wikimedia)

There are a few urban legends that poke up here and there that certain libraries — usually dusty, private, or academic ones which are not easily accessible by the public — hold books bound in human skin. Few of these stories turn out to be true: the "human" skin is often proven to be lamb, sheep, or deer. But Harvard University's Houghton Library was recently surprised — and somewhat taken aback — to find one of its books was absolutely an example of the practice known as anthropodermic bibliopegy.

The book in question (pictured here courtesy Houghton Library, Harvard University), a French volume titled Des destinées de l'ame by Arsène Houssaye, is also relatively recent, dating only to the 1880s. Making the object even stranger, the book examines the nature of the soul and life after death. Though the use of human skin to bind a book is rare, examples date to the 16th century and the "donors" were often convicted criminals.

Houghton's book, however, is bound in the skin of an unwilling participant, an unnamed woman who died of apoplexy or a stroke while confined to a mental institution. The author, Houssaye (1815-1896), presented this copy of the publication to his friend, a medical doctor and book collector named Ludovic Bouland (1839-1932).

It was Bouland who chose to use the skin of a deceased patient, whose body had remained unclaimed by friends or relatives. By the 1930s, another bibliophile acquired the book and deposited it with Houghton Library. Accompanying the book was a note from Dr. Bouland describing the origin of the book’s gruesome binding.

Note from Bouland explaining the book's origin (courtesy Houghton Library, Harvard University)

More recently, Harvard staff tested the book to determine the veracity of Bouland's claim. Using techniques including "Liquid Chromatography-Tandem Mass Spectrometry" (LCMSMS) and assessing the "peptide mass fingerprint" (PMF), tests announced this June proved with 99% certainty that the binding of this book was human skin. It is the only proven example of anthropodermic bibliopegy at Harvard.

Two other Harvard libraries — the Harvard Law Library and Countway Library of the Harvard Medical School — also claimed to have similarly bound books, but tests proved the skin came more conventional sheepskin. The book from the Law Library, a Spanish law book, included the horrific description that its source was Joans Wright who, according to an inscription in this copy, "was flayed alive" in 1632.

A 1933 article from the Harvard Crimson refers to an example slightly less gruesome: a miniature book titled Little Poems for Little Folk was bound in the skin of a donor who remained happily alive and healthy after the removal of 20 square inches of skin from his back. The book was privately owned; the book’s current whereabouts are unknown.


Not so far from Harvard, the Boston Athenaeum also owns a skin bound in human skin: a memoir of James Allen, which Allen wrote himself and specifically requested be bound in his skin. The book is often on display in the library and remains one of the most well-known examples of anthropodermic bibliopegy thanks in part due to frequent mentions on walking tours highlighting spooky local history.

Houghton staff note that the object is not merely a macabre piece nor an object of morbid curiosity, but also as a reminder that practices, no matter how unsettling to those in the 21st century, were at one time, in at least one place, considered acceptable.

Sculpture #2 (all photographs by Lionel Bouffier)

"My forest work is always ‘discovered,’ either by chance or by word of mouth," sculptor Spencer Byles told us in an email. Drawn to making site-specific land art by the allure of the forest's open space and abundance of materials, he spent a year in the woods near La Colle-sur-Loup, a French village close to Nice, resulting in more than 40 whimsical sculptures made completely from found materials.

Sculpture #5

Spencer works on up to 30 pieces at once, each representing "my response to a particular location." He only works in wild forests, looking for particular characteristics that inspire him. "Whether it's enclosed, or an open space; the light, flora and fauna, trees; views, smells, and sound also play a part in my choices," he said. The resulting works range from large to small, encompassing concentric circles, suspended pods, spiraling pillars, even some animal shapes. His sculptures start to disintegrate as soon as they're made, lending a quiet poignancy to the amount of work that goes into them. 

Sculpture #3

He has previously made similar site-specific works in Villeneuve Loubet and Mougins in southeastern France, but he said that the works in this series are "bigger and often stronger." His next project, called "Paper Landscapes 2014–15," will encompass seven abandoned buildings deep in the forest. Spencer intends to make an installation in each on, out of paper and forest materials. "The work will stay in the buildings for a short period, and I will record their deterioration over a few weeks," he said. 

Sculpture #2 (all photographs by Lionel Bouffier)

"My forest work is always ‘discovered,’ either by chance or by word of mouth," sculptor Spencer Byles told us in an email. Drawn to making site-specific land art by the allure of the forest's open space and abundance of materials, he spent a year in the woods near La Colle-sur-Loup, a French village close to Nice, resulting in more than 40 whimsical sculptures made completely from found materials.

 

Sculpture #5

Sculpture #2 (all photographs by Lionel Bouffier)

"My forest work is always ‘discovered,’ either by chance or by word of mouth," sculptor Spencer Byles told us in an email. Drawn to making site-specific land art by the allure of the forest's open space and abundance of materials, he spent a year in the woods near La Colle-sur-Loup, a French village close to Nice, resulting in more than 40 whimsical sculptures made completely from found materials.

 

Sculpture #5

 

 

Yakustk Kingdom of Permafrost Tourist Center (photograph by Alex Cheban)

Yakutsk, the largest city built on continuous permafrost, is the coldest major city in the world. There are several institutions there dedicated to the study of this unique ecology, including the Institute for Biological Problems of Cryolithozone (IBPC) and the Melnikov Permafrost Institute, part of the Siberian Branch of the Russian Academy of Sciences. Yakutsk is also home to the Kingdom of Permafrost, a tourist attraction so cold that visitors are given warm coats and boots before entering.

Now, as reported by Siberian Times, IBPC scientists are utilizing Yakutsk's naturally frigid permafrost caves for cryostorage, entering the second phase of their "Noah's Ark" project to preserve millions of the world's rarest plants. 

In the Yakustk cryostorage facility (this and all following photographs by Alexey Shein of the IBPC)

The Yakutsk cryostorage facility is the result of 35 years of studies to determine the optimal temperature to preserve seeds without affecting their ability to germinate, and to develop ways to keep that temperature constant. Efim Khlebnyy, Senior Researcher at the IPBC, told Atlas in an email: "We developed a new technology of cold accumulation during winter (the average winter temperature in Yakutsk is –51.4ºC), using a special ventilation system and other techniques, which made it possible to keep constant temperatures of about –8 ºC all year without any electricity or use of external supplies."

The center opened in December 2012 with 11,000 seed from common Yakutsk crops, as well as endemic, rare, and endangered species. The next phase of the project aims to compile an additional 1.5 million seeds from Russia and beyond, safeguarding the world's plants for up to 100 years against natural disasters and climate change. 

This facility is unique because it requires no artificial cooling methods, therefore using little to no energy to run. Other similar cryostorage centers do exist, such as the Svalbard Global Seed Vault in Norway, but, as Nikolai Goncharov of the Institute of Cytology and Genetics told Siberian Times, "When global temperatures get warmer by five degrees, the glaciers on Svalbard will melt. To melt the permafrost in Yakutia, temperatures need to rise by about 20 degrees." He further describes the Yakutsk facility as "'an eternal, and environmentally-friendly, system that cannot be affected by any disaster."

Sculpture #2 (all photographs by Lionel Bouffier)

"My forest work is always ‘discovered,’ either by chance or by word of mouth," sculptor Spencer Byles told us in an email. Drawn to making site-specific land art by the allure of the forest's open space and abundance of materials, he spent a year in the woods near La Colle-sur-Loup, a French village close to Nice, resulting in more than 40 sculptures made completely from found materials.

Sculpture #5

Spencer works on up to 30 pieces at once, each representing "my response to a particular location." He only works in wild forests, looking for particular characteristics that inspire him. "Whether it's enclosed, or an open space; the light, flora and fauna, trees; views, smells, and sound also play a part in my choices," he said. The resulting works range from large to small, encompassing concentric circles, suspended pods, spiraling pillars, even some animal shapes. His sculptures start to disintegrate as soon as they're made, lending a quiet poignancy to the amount of work that goes into them. 

Sculpture #3

He has previously made similar site-specific works in Villeneuve Loubet and Mougins in southeastern France, but he said that the works in this series are "bigger and often stronger." His next project, called "Paper Landscapes 2014–15," will encompass seven abandoned buildings deep in the forest. Spencer intends to make an installation in each on, out of paper and forest materials. "The work will stay in the buildings for a short period, and I will record their deterioration over a few weeks," he said.

Sculpture #15

Sculpture #7

See more of Spencer's work on Inhabitat and on his website. 

Spencer with one of his creations

photograph by Simon / Pixabay

Despite being 2,000 miles away, Foreign Minister Martin Lidegaard said Denmark will deliver a claim to the North Pole to the United Nations panel that will ultimately determine which countries control the Arctic, according to the Associated Press.

The claim is the result of a study conducted by Danish scientists, along with colleagues from Canada, Sweden, and Russia, from 2007 to 2012. The scientists concluded that the Lomonosov Ridge, a 2,000-kilometer underwater mountain range that crosses the North Pole, is geologically attached to Greenland, a semi-autonomous Danish territory. Russia has been conducting similar studies, and asserts that the ridge is continuous with the Siberian continental platform.

Though Denmark is the first to claim the actual pole, the other countries bordering the Arctic —Russia, Canada, Norway, and the United States — all have or are expected to assert rights to parts of it. Currently all countries' borders end 200 nautical miles from their coasts, leaving a huge swath of the Arctic unowned (although in 2007 Russia went so far as to plant a meter-high titanium flag on the seabed). The land is likely to become increasingly valuable: according to the US Geological Survey, about 30 percent of the world’s undiscovered natural gas and 15 percent of its oil will be found in the Arctic. In addition, as the polar ice continues to melt, the Northern Sea Route is likely to open, becoming the fastest way to ship goods around the world.

Map of the Arctic region showing the Northeast Passage, the Northern Sea Route and Northwest Passage (image from Arctic Council / Wikimedia) 

There's another element likely motivating Denmark to make this claim: keeping Greenlanders happy. Greenland has been under Danish rule for 300 years, and in recent years has sought to assert independence from its colonial ruler. In 2008 a Greenlandic self-governing referendum passed with 75 percent approval, although lately the government has been plagued with scandals, and low oil prices have curbed some of the fervor for independence. But the Arctic claim is "very, very popular" in Greenland. As Jon Rahbek-Clemmensen, assistant professor at the University of Southern Denmark, told The Guardian, “For the Greenlanders, it’s more about a feeling of nationhood, and being part of the Arctic. It’s symbolism.”

Dutch queen Wilhemina & princess Juliana as snowpeople in the Netherlands (1913) (via Nationaal Archief)

Humans are innately drawn to creating effigies of their own likenesses, often forging the figures from a crude stack of frozen balls plopped one atop of another. Building a snowman utilizes materials that are free of cost, easy to manipulate, and plentiful in certain times and places. It requires minimal artistic skill, as the placement of a few simple twigs and rocks can furnish your creation with an eerily expressive personality. 

Snowman with charred backside in a 12th-century Book of Hours (via Koninklijke Bibliotheek)

Early snowman documentation has been discovered as far back as the Middle Ages, but we must assume that humans, creative beings that they are, have taken advantage of the icy materials that fall from the sky ever since winter and mankind have mutually existed. Bob Eckstein, author of The History of the Snowman, found the snowman's earliest known depiction in an illuminated manuscript of the Book of Hours from 1380 in the Koninkijke Bibliotheek in The Hague, Netherlands (shown above).

The despondent snowman seems to be of anti-Semitic nature, shaped with the stacked-ball method, and donning a jaunty Jewish cap. As he sits slumped with his back turned to the deadly fire, the adjacent text pronounces the crucifixion of Jesus Christ. Apparently, plague-ridden Europeans needed a comical stooge onto whom they could foist their blame and frustration, and the Jewish snowman fit that bill.

Women attacking a cop snowman in a 1937 painting by Hans Dahl (via Wikimedia)

In the Middle Ages, building snowmen was a way for a community to find the silver lining in a horribly oppressive winter rife with starvation, poverty, and other life-threatening conditions. In 1511, the townspeople of Brussels banded together to construct over 100 snowmen in a public art installation known as the Miracle of 1511.

Their snowmen embodied a dissatisfaction with the political climate, not to mention the six weeks of below-freezing weather. The Belgians rendered their anxieties into tangible, life-like models: a defecating demon, a humiliated king, and womenfolk getting buggered six ways to Sunday. Besides your typical sexually graphic and politically riled caricatures, the Belgian snowmen were often parodies of folklore figures, such as mermaids, unicorns, and village idiots.

The Snowman Trick (1950), illustration by Luke Limner, Esq. (via Abaculi)

The snowman’s place in the traditional Christmas canon of jolly holiday diversions — along with ice-skating and horse-drawn sleighs — gained a higher status in the early Victorian era, when Prince Albert thrust his penchant for German holiday fun onto England. Santa Claus and the snowman became ubiquitous icons who soared hand-in-hand o’er the land of commodified Christmas kitsch.

A snowman receives romantic advice from dog in Hans Christian Andersen's "Stories for the Household" (1880s) (via Internet Archive Book Images)

The snowman’s lot in life is complicated — he is immobile, explicitly impermanent, and confined to an existence of ruminating upon his fate. He is the perfect metaphorical example of the human condition: longing for that which we cannot obtain, in his case touch and warmth. It's believed that Hans Christian Andersen’s 1861 fairy tale, "The Snowman," wherein a snowman falls unrequitedly in love with a stove, held symbolic implications of Andersen's infatuation with Harald Scharff, a young ballet dancer at Copenhagen's Royal Theatre. Andersen wrote about how the thing we love most can eventually destroy us, yet we happily sacrifice ourselves. When the “stove-sick” snowman gazes upon the burning oven from outside, he cries:

It is my only wish, my biggest wish; it would almost be unfair if it wasn't granted. I must get in and lean against her, even if I have to break a window.

Modern-day authors, filmmakers, and artists of every ilk have appropriated the Frosty-type character as their own. The snowman has made appearances in hundreds of books and magazines, dozens of films, and seems to materialize at every critical time and place in history, just as long as Old Man Winter, Jack Frost, or any other personification of winter blows his snowy breath onto the land. The snowman’s persona is safe and placid, politically nonpartisan, unaffiliated with religion, and practically androgynous. Today’s snowman is fashioned with much less political allegory in favor of cheap, empty, irony, as he is commissioned to sell products such as liquor, laxatives, and rap albums.

Not unlike how the blank, smiling expression of a clown is inevitably considered creepy, the snowman has a wicked layer beneath his pure face. A snowman has portrayed the evil villain in slasher films and sci-fi TV shows, and depicted sexual humiliation in comic strips, kitschy products, and your own neighbor’s front yard. Today’s snowman is as easily a malicious serial killer as he is a fluffy children’s plaything.

Field of Japanese snowmen in Sapporo (photograph by Angelina Earley)

You can wait for a blizzard and construct your own demonic fornicating snowperson, or head out to one of the hundreds of snowman festivals and contests. For over 30 years the Japanese city of Sapporo, in the Hokkaido region, has hosted the Sapporo Snow Festival where an infestation of 12,000 mini snowmen cluster in a field, wearing cryptic messages from their makers. 

The stalwart "Jacob" (photograph by Schubbay)

There's also the Bischofsgrün Snowman Festival (Schneemannfest), held every February in Bavaria, featuring “Jacob,” Germany’s über gigantic snowman. 

Olympia, in Bethel, Maine (photograph by ChrisDag)

But the prize for the world’s biggest anthropomorphized snow pile goes to a snowlady named Olympia, created in 2008 by the townsfolk of Bethel, Maine, and named for the state senator Olympia Snowe. Built in a month-long plow fest, the 122-foot-tall conical she-beast was decked in massive snowflake jewels and six-foot-long eyelashes. 

The strange ritual of the Sonoma snowmen (photograph by Lynn Friedman)

Meanwhile in California, every December Sonoma Valley fires up the holiday season with the Lighting of the Snowman Festival. This is what Californians do with a decisively snowless region during winter: plug in hundreds of electrical snowmen who appear to be marching in military formation. 

1910s postcard (via Picturetown Collection)

Symbolically, destroying a snowy effigy can mark the end of icy months and the tyranny of winter. In Zurich, Switzerland, for example, a giant snowman called the Böögg is plugged with firecrackers and detonated to the delight of the cheering crowd.

At the Rose Sunday Festival in Weinheim-an-der-Bergstrasse, Germany, the mayor leads a parade through town, beseeching the local children to behave obediently in order to earn the privilege of spring. The children agree, naturally, and the townspeople incinerate a straw snowman. Lake Superior State University commandeered this tradition in the 1970s with their own Snowman Burning Day. Over the years, LSSU’s annual 12-foot-tall snowperson has represented slightly more political and social issues, whatever they feel needs symbolic burning, from sexism and cloning to the Ayatollah Khomeini and a rival hockey team.

Explosion of the Böög in Switzerland (photograph by Roland zh/Wikimedia)

Children and adults alike can therapeutically release their anger onto the snowman — really let him have it — without much consequence. Pelt him with snowballs, stab him, and run him over with your car. He won’t resent you! He’s harmless! That is, unless you consider it harmful to endure listening to Perry Como’s 1953 rendition of the hit tune, "Frosty the Snowman."

"The Giant Goliath" snowman illustrated by Franz Wiedemann (1860) (via Wikimedia)

Amboy, California (screenshot from Other America)

The town of Amboy, California, was a popular stop on Route 66 during the American roadway's heyday. When the Interstate Highway System put in speedier infrastructure to move cars across the country, Amboy was suddenly off the map. Now just four people live in the ghost town.

Filmmaker James Coulson visited Amboy as part of his Other America series, a 12-part short video exploration of the United States. Rather than zoom in on the derelict remains of the town, or focus on its sensational sale on eBay for $4,000, Coulson interviews a man named Fred who runs the Roy's cafe and filling station, as well as the post office a few days a week. The other residents in Amboy, Fred says, are the postmaster, the town sheriff, and "the guy that runs the salt plant but I can't remember his name." He explains the allure of living in a forgotten rural place: "Out here you can go fly in a hang glider, go dirt biking, go ATVing, go shoot something, and not worry about it, you're not stuck in a cubicle." 

Four videos from the Other America series are online, with new installments released biweekly (you can see future destinations plotted on the front page map). They include interviews with the Lakota living on Rosebud Reservation alongside Mount Rushmore, people in Manchester, Georgia, where the absence of the former textile industry has left the storefronts empty, and a man from Mexico who moved to El Paso, Texas, and turned a gas station into a blacksmith shop. Coulson, born in the UK, was so drawn to the people he met and the places he explored that he became an American citizen partway through the journey. Below you can watch the video on Amboy, and find the continuation of Other America on Coulson's site. It's an engaging example of small budget filmmaking showing the personality of places on the margins. 

View more films from the Other America series online.

 Lee Harvey Oswald's arrest card (photograph by Heritage Auction Gallery / Wikimedia)

Lee Harvey Oswald, the sniper who launched a thousand conspiracy theories, was buried in Rose Hill Cemetery on November 25th, 1963, during a funeral so sparsely attended that reporters were asked to act as pallbearers. He was laid to rest in a simple pine coffin his brother Robert had purchased the day before for $300. Now, as the New York Timesreports, ownership of that coffin is being disputed in a Fort Worth courthouse.

The reason the coffin is in question at all is that in 1981, Oswald's body was exhumed at the behest of British writer Michael Eddowes, who believed that a Soviet spy had been buried there instead, and Oswald's widow Marina Porter, who wanted to set to rest the doubts and conspiracies. Robert Oswald tried to block the exhumation with several restraining orders, but a Dallas judge ruled that a surviving wife has the right to control a deceased person's remains over a brother. After Oswald's body was exhumed and its identity verified, it was reburied in a metal coffin and steel vault. The original pine box, which was badly damaged, was returned to the Baumgardner Funeral Home in Fort Worth, Texas, from which it had originally been purchased. It remained in storage there for nearly three decades.

Oswald's grave marker, used after the original tombstone was stollen (photograph by Iconsoffright / Wikimedia)

In 2010, Allen Baumgardner, the owner of the funeral home, began approaching museums to see if any wanted to acquire the coffin. He was unable to find any takers, and instead he sold it at auction to an anonymous buyer for $87,468. Robert then filed suit to stop the sale, contending that it was "ghoulish." He further claims that he is the rightful owner of the pine box, and that Baumgardner had no right to sell it. Baumgardner has countered that the coffin is a "piece of history," and his lawyer argued that Robert gave his brother the casket as a gift, and therefore never actually owned it.

Robert, who is 80 and is also suing for mental anguish, did not appear in court due to declining health, instead testifying via video. In the video he said, "It's just bad taste, and as far as I know, it was sold by a bunch of scoundrels." The judge is expected to decide the case after Christmas.

The Ramsgate Tunnels (all photographs by the author)

The Ramsgate Tunnels in England were reopened this May after 75 years of lying dormant. Originally known as the "Tunnel Railway," a narrow gauge track that connected neighboring Broadstairs to Ramsgate, it went through a variety of guises over the years, from WWII facility to tourist attraction.

In 1939, after much campaigning and persuasion, the tunnels were expanded as an air raid shelter, a system that extended beyond the initial narrow gauge tunnel and into a whole series of offshoots. The entrances were spread across the town enabling anyone, at any place in the town, to enter the shelter in under five minutes should the alarm sound. They were also cleverly concealed in order to not stand out in the event of a blackout and could accommodate up 60,000 people — Ramsgate’s population was only approximately half that. Though they were built as a preemptive measure, and were thought by some to be an unnecessary luxury and an indulgence by the “Mad Mayor” Aldemore, the Ramsgate tunnels proved invaluable during the war.

Being a costal and port town, facing France, Ramsagate was a clear target for aerial attacks in WWII. On one particularly memorable air raid, 500 bombs were dropped in under ten minutes causing devastation to the town, but incurring a fatality count as low as 11 because of the sheer expanse of the network. The vast majority of the townspeople were so far underground they could not even hear the bombs going off overhead.

Some markings left by old and new visitors

The tunnels were initially intended to provide a place to hide safely and sleep overnight in one of the pre-bookable bunks; it became more of permanent settlement than many intended. When you go and visit the tunnels today, you can see some reconstruction settlements at various stages. As you approach the mouth of the tunnel you are met with a WWII era café — “The Ratz” — playing 1940s music and offering hot drinks and tea cakes, necessary if you have braved the walk along the beach on a winter’s day. The tour itself is led by a team of enthusiastic locals who are more than willing to share anecdotes they have acquired over the years, many by living in the tunnels. You are lent a hardhat and flashlight and led through the railway tunnel and then down part of the offshoot tunnels.

It is a truly fascinating place to visit, especially if you happen to be in Ramsgate in the pouring winter rain like us. It is essential that you book in advance due to high demand for the newly accessible subterranean site.

All photographs by the author.

A centuries-old stone wall, stretching for miles; enormous pictures scratched into the ground of a desert; rocks arranged in a circle. You know what these landmarks are, right? 

Guess again. Instead of the Great Wall of China or Stonehenge, these are all ancient American ruins and landmarks. The United States is a relative newcomer to the world stage, but there have been people long living on this continent, and they've left traces of their presence just as mysterious as those found in other countries.

MYSTERY HILL (aka "AMERICA'S STONEHENGE")
Salem, New Hampshire

Mystery Hill, New Hampshire (photograph by Rwike77/Flickr)

Although locals sometimes call this "America’s Stonehenge," Mystery Hill bears little resemblance to the English megalith. Instead, it's a complex of stone structures and artificial caves, most likely only as old as the 17th century. However, exact dating may never be possible, as the ruins suffered from tampering at the hands of a 1930s landowner who was convinced the structures were the remains of a 7th-century Irish monastic colony. So convinced, in fact, that if parts of the site didn't match his theory, he'd "fix" them.

The site's "mysterious" reputation has made it a popular tourist attraction for decades, and it's even earned some pop culture fame — H.P. Lovecraft reportedly visited the site for inspiration, and The X-Files set one episode nearby. 

CASA GRANDE RUINS
Coolidge, Arizona

Casa Grande, Arizona (photograph by midiman/Flickr)

Archaeologists understand some things about Casa Grande in Arizona. They know that it was probably constructed in the early 13th century, that the builders used adobe, and that the full complex included several other adobe structures and a ball court, and was once surrounded by a wall.

What they don’t know is what the four-story central building was for: a guard tower, a grain silo, a house of worship, or something else. The site was abandoned nearly half a century before Columbus's voyage to the Americas, long after the nearby Hopi had moved away, and was too ruined for early Spanish explorers to do their own investigating into what it was.

Today the main building is under a protective roof built by Civil Conservation Corps workers in the 1930s, and the full ruins are a federally-protected national park — the first such park in the United States.

THE BLYTHE INTAGLIOS
Blythe, California

Blythe Intaglios (photograph by Chris M. Morris/Flickr)

Several landmarks compete for the title of  "America's Stonehenge," but it’s clear that the Blythe Intaglios are "America's Nazca Lines." Much like their Peruvian cousins, the Blythe Intaglios are a set of geoglyphs depicting giant human figures etched into the California desert sometime between 450 and 2,000 years ago. The figures are so big — the largest is over 170 feet long — that they escaped the notice of California settlers, and remained undisturbed until the 1930s when a pilot bound for Nevada spotted them from the air.

Researchers believe the local Mojave people were the likely creators of the site. However, as with the Nazca Lines, they can’t explain how the Mojave would have seen them from their intended aerial view, or what purpose they served.

JUDACULLA ROCK
Sylva, North Carolina

Judaculla Rock, North Carolina (photograph by onmountain/Wikimedia)

For years, the Cherokee people who lived near the soapstone boulder now known as Judaculla Rock used it as a sort of billboard, etching so many petroglyph designs into the North Carolina stone that even today it's difficult to tell exactly how many there are. The boulder also sports seven grooves, the mythical footprints of a legendary giant, which contemporary archaeologists attribute to ancient masons mining the soapstone to make bowls.

Research has been slow; soapstone is naturally fragile, and the Cherokee also still see the rock as a sacred artifact. But the Cherokee are working with visitors and researchers to give them access while still preserving the stone.

BIGHORN MEDICINE WHEEL
Lovell, Wyoming 

Bighorn Medicine Wheel, Wyoming (photograph via US Forest Service)

There are several "medicine wheel" monuments scattered around North America, with stones arranged in a wheel shape — a structure sacred to several tribes across the northern Great Plains. But at 75 feet in diameter, Wyoming's Bighorn Medicine Wheel is the biggest. Surprisingly, it also pre-dates the time when the neighboring Crow people first lived in the area.

In the 1970s, Astronomer John Eddy also noticed that some of the wheel's spokes pinpoint the direction of the sunrise on different solstices, and other spokes mark the rising point of other stars, suggesting the site may have once been an observatory. It's still a mystery, though, who first built the wheel.

DIGHTON ROCK
Berkeley, Massachusetts

1893 photograph of Dighton Rock (via Wikimedia)

Like the Judaculla Rock, this is another petroglyph-clad boulder, yet no one knows who made carved it.  Most scholars credit Massachusetts' Dighton Rock to the local pre-Columbian tribes, and one of the petroglyphs does resemble a mark on a similar rock in Vermont. Other theories credit Vikings, Portuguese sailors, and even Phoenicians.

The rock itself is now housed in a museum inside  Dighton Rock State Park, complete with exhibits making the case for each theory.

THE GREAT SERPENT MOUND
Hillsboro, Ohio

Great Serpent Mound, Ohio (photograph by Eric Ewing/Wikimedia)

This 1,300-foot earthwork shaped like an undulating snake swallowing an egg was first spotted by European settlers in 1812, and left undisturbed until the Smithsonian sent two surveyors out to map the site in the 1840s. The Great Serpent Mound has been the subject of study ever since. But while scholars agree it was built by pre-Columbian peoples, they disagree on who and when.

They also can't decide on on the mound's purpose, with some claiming it was a vast tomb, and others suggesting it had an astronomical purpose. 

BERKELEY MYSTERY WALLS
San Francisco, California

Berkeley Mystery Walls, California (via relicsoftheancients.com)

Also known as the East Bay Walls, the Berkeley Mystery Walls are a series of stone walls running in a rough path through the Bay Area of California, from Berkeley to San Jose. Their purpose is unknown; they’re too low to be a defensive wall, there are gaps in the structures, and at one point they form ornamental spiral patterns. It's also unclear who made them. Early Spanish settlers found them already standing, and the local Ohlone people reported they’d always seen them there, too.

Whenever they were built, it was long enough ago for sections of the stones to have sunk into the earth. A 1904 archaeologist suggested they were built by Mongolian sailors who'd come to the California coast well before the time of Columbus, but his theory seems to have been based more on wishful thinking than scholarship.

MIAMI CIRCLE
Miami, Florida

Miami Circle (photograph by Eduardo Valle/Wikimedia)

A recent discovery, the Miami Circle was only unearthed in 1998 when a Florida developer knocked down a 1950s apartment complex, revealing a circular pattern of holes in the limestone bedrock. Further excavation turned up tools similar to those used by the once-local Tequesta people, and radio-carbon testing suggests the site is nearly 3,000 years old.

The State of Florida now owns the plot, which still sits at the water's edge beside a series of high-rises, to protect it from developers. Archaeologists believe the holes are actually signs of a bit of prehistoric development: post-holes for some kind of permanent shelter.

HEMET MAZE STONE
Hemet, California

Hemet Maze Stone, California (photograph by Devin Sean Cooper/Wikimedia)

Unlike the other stones in this list, the Hemet Maze stone only has a single carving, but an intriguing one: a three-foot square with an intricate interlocking maze pattern. Archaeologists have only found a handful of other instances of this particular design used in North American rock art, all of them in California, and have no idea about their origin, meaning, or significance.

The swastika-like pattern is more common in Hindu and Buddhist art than on this continent. Unfortunately, the pattern inspired a vandal to add his or her own swastika to the design sometime in the 20th century, and the rock is now only visible from behind a chain link fence.

Detail of the Maze Stone (photograph by Paul Kiler/Wikimedia)