Photograph from the 1917 "The National Parks Portfolio" (via Internet Archive Book Images)

Trees are fascinating — if left undisturbed by humans and our axes, they can grow to incredible sizes, and live for thousands of years. Around the world, there are trees that have been growing for a much longer period of time than famed arbors like Methuselah or General Sherman. Some of these beautiful ancients may not look like much — some appear to be mere saplings, compared to the gigantic redwoods.

Pando aspen grove at Fishlake National Forest (photograph by J Zapell/Wikimedia)

Take Pando, for instance, also known as "the Trembling Giant." Pando is a forest of Quaking Aspens growing near Fish Lake in Utah. Pando, whose name is Latin for "I spread," is a clonal colony. This means that all the trees in the forest are genetically identical, and are believed to have one combined root system. Pando covers more than 106 acres, and is estimated to weigh in the region of 5,900 tons. More than 40,000 trunks (which look like individual trees) make up the forest, and the roots are believed to be at least 80,000 years old. Yes, 80,000. That's not a typo. In fact, some scientists challenge this dating, and are trying to confirm their own estimates of Pando's age, which would push it back to approximately 1,000,000 years old. One million years old.

For perspective's sake, the Great Pyramid of Giza was begun around 4,500 years ago. The city of Sumer was founded 7,000 years ago. Neanderthals lived and walked alongside Homo Sapiens 250,000 years ago. Pando could be four times older than the first-known Neanderthal fossils.

In the western United States, it is believed that there are very few non-clonal Quaking Aspens, as around 10,000 years ago there was a climactic shift in the region, which changed the soil conditions, making saplings less able to survive, and also making it more difficult for adult trees to flower.

King Clone in 2008 (photograph by Klokeid/Wikimedia)

One million years is an incredible timespan for a single organism to be alive. And there are other clonal forests around the world whose own ages are exceptionally long, although certainly not as old as Pando. King Clone, for instance, is a creosote ring in the Mojave Desert, and is 11,700 years old; and there is a colony of Box Huckleberry in Pennsylvania which is the oldest woody plant east of the Rocky Mountains, and is around 8,000 years old.

The oldest currently known and confirmed tree in the United States is unnamed, but is a Great Basin Bristlecone Pine, in the White Mountains of California — it's 5,064 years old. The next oldest is the venerable Methuselah, aged 4,846. Methuselah is also a Great Basin Bristlecone. The tree lives in Inyo County, California. Then come the Sequoias, like the President and General Sherman, in the Sierra Nevada Mountains.

Looking upward at General Sherman in California's Sequoia National Park (photograph by Jim Bahn/Wikimedia)

Europe, too, has its share of ancient trees. The Llangernyw Yew in Wales, is estimated to be between 4000 and 5,000 years old, and local legends tell of an angel (the Angelystor) who resides there, and predicts the deaths of local parishioners.

Old Tjikko in Sweden (photograph by Karl Brodowsky/Wikimedia)

Other European elder trees include Old Tjikko, a spruce in Sweden, which is only 16 feet tall. But don't let its size fool you; Old Tjikko is 9,500 years old, and has been growing on the same root-stem since the end of the last Ice Age.

In Lebanon, the Sisters Olive Trees are alleged to be the trees from which Noah's dove returned with a branch in its mouth, which makes the grove approximately 5,000 to 6,000 years old — and they still produce fruit and oil. Some olive trees in Crete have been dated to more than 2,000 years of age. Then there's the Hundred Horse Chestnut in Sicily, which got its name when one hundred knights found shelter beneath its 190-foot canopy (the canopy was last measured in 1780). The tree is somewhere between 2,000 and 4,000 years old. But the champion of Europe is another clonal plant: a bed of Posidonia oceanica (Neptune grass) in the Mediterranean is estimated to be around 200,000 years old. 

Hundred Horse Chestnut, illustrated in the 19th century (via Popular Science Monthly)

Hundred Horse Chestnut in 2006 (photograph by Brian0918/Wikimedia) 

In Asia, there's Jōmon Sugi on the island of Yakushima, in Japan, which, although sparsely populated now, has been inhabited since the Jomōnin period (around 12,000 BC). Jomōn Sugi is estimated to be up to 7,200 years old.

Jōmon Sugi in 2012 (photograph by Σ64/Wikimedia) 

Other monstrous Japanese trees include the Great Sugi of Kayano, which experts have concluded is around 2,000 years old, and was probably planted by human hands. The Great Sugi is one of four sugi trees planted at the Sugawara Shrine, and stands at almost 50 meters tall. Further afield in Asia, the Jaya Sri Maha Bodhi in Sri Lanka was planted in 288 BC, and is said to have been propagated from the Bodhi tree beneath which the Siddhartha Buddha became enlightened. The Jaya Sri Maha Bodhi is the oldest tree in the world for which we know the planting date — it was brought to Sri Lanka as a gift from the Indian King Ashoka.

Jaya Sri Maha Bodhi fig tree in 1913 and 2013 (via Wikimedia)

The Great Banyan near Kolkata is estimated to be 1,200 years old, and with its aerial roots looks more like a forest than a single tree. The Great Banyan has a circumference of around half a kilometer, which sounds massive, but pales next to Thimmamma Marrimanu, also in India, which is (according to the Guinness Book of Records) the world's biggest Banyan, covering 11 acres.

The Great Banyan Tree (photograph by Biswarup Ganguly/Wikimedia)

In Tasmania, there is a colony of Huon pines that could be up to 10,000 years old, as well as some recently discovered giant mountain ash trees, which, standing at more than 90 meteres, are the tallest species of flowering trees in the world. While this is shorter than the California redwoods, scientists in the region believe this is because, in the past, lumber companies often chopped down the largest trees. Also in Tasmania is a colony of King's Lomatia. King's Lomatia is a popular plant in Australian gardens, but all those garden plants are clones of one plant, the sole known King's Lomatia, which is estimated to be 135,000 years old. 

Te Matua Ngahere. Waipoua Forest, New Zealand (photograph by Michal Klajban/Wikimedia)

New Zealand luckily hasn't experienced much Western-style, industrial logging. Tāne Mahuta and Te Matua Ngahere, two of its trees, are both estimated to be between 2,000 and 3,000 years old. Tāne Mahuta's name translates to "Lord of the Forest"; Te Matua Ngahere, which is stouter than Tāne Mahuta translates to "Father of the Forest." Both are part of a forest that is the remnants of a far greater one, one the world's southernmost rainforests. 

As I was flicking through Atlas Obscura, I came across numerous trees, old and young, some grown into the shape of a cathedral. Some were grown from seeds were flown to the moon. Others, like the Judean date palms. I realized that there are so many of these trees that most tourists will never even hear about, let alone visit. And hopefully through sharing their beauty here, we can help change that. Explore some of these arboreal wonders through the map below.

The highest point in Delaware (photograph by Tony Garcia)

He ascended Mount Washington in New Hampshire, on foot not by car (elevation: 6,288 feet). He also climbed Ebright Ezmouth in Delaware, but with far less exertion (elevation: 447 feet). He plans get to Charles Mound in Indiana on one of the rare weekends where the owners of the rolling farmland allow access (elevation: 1,237 feet). For Tony Garcia of New Jersey, reaching these heights means more than just an individual achievement. It's one step closer to a goal that has informed his life for the past several years. Garcia is a high pointer, and he intends to reach the highest points in all 50 of the United States by his 35th birthday. After that, he's going for the highest peak on each continent, with Mt. Fuji or Kilimanjaro looming in his future.

High Pointers (previously covered for Atlas Obscura by high pointer Thomas Harper) are a specific kind of geographical collector, a person with the goal to travel long distances or up great heights, or sometimes to strangely ordinary points, to complete a goal. Some geographical collectors are part of a community, people united in their collective obsession; others fixate on highly personal goals.

Mount Washington, the highest point in New Hampshire (photograph by Tony Garcia)

For Mark Weyer, another high pointer, collecting is about finding a challenge, bonding with others, and becoming part of a community. Weyer, who only started collecting in 2013, isn't quite at the mountaineering level, but he's learning gradually and relishes the challenge, having already has ascended 17 points. An avid hiker, he climbed to the highest point in his home state of Pennsylvania, and thought "If I can do one, I can do the other 49." 

A view from the highest point in Alabama (photograph by Mark Weyer)

High pointers don't just collect 50 states, with goals having many variations depending on one’s skill, ambition, and geography. The 8000ers look to climb all mountains above 8,000 meters, while the more home-state oriented 14ers look to ascend all the peaks in Colorado above 14,000 feet.  

Whatever the goal, high pointing requires high level hiking and mountaineering skills, as well as perseverance, scheduling acumen, and good luck with weather. Not long ago, Garcia flew out to Oregon with the goal to ascend Mount Hood, only to be thwarted by a storm once he arrived. "It's disheartening because you spend so much money just to fly, and only to have failure," he said. "There nothing you can do about the weather." 

Not all geographical collections require quite so much luck with the weather. Others want to simply visiting all 50 American states — 50 Staters — while some add their own subset of goals to the adventure. 

Liz Holland, a college senior in Kutztown, Pennsylvania, intends to not just step in all the states, but to "take in the sites, eat and shop in each state." Although she'd passed through several states as a child, she decided to reset and begin at zero, and document every single trip. She now keeps a running list of the states that she counts, and is next planning a trip to Florida to see Disney World, in celebration of her impending graduation. 

 The last sign Heather Archuletta collected was Michigan, in 2011 (photograph by Heather Archuletta)

Heather Archuletta, a NASA contractor, has already visited 50 States by car, and chronicled the journeys on her blog. She was inspired by childhood road trips with her parents, and, like Holland, she added her own goals to each visit. She photographed herself on every state line, spent the night, are a meal, and made a friend in every single state. This includes Hawaii, though the "state line" sign exists only in the airport. As a side goal, during her travels she visited nine out of the ten NASA labs, with only the Mischoud facility in Mississippi left to visit.

As for when she finished collecting all fifty states, Archuletta admits to being overwhelmed: "I pulled over the to the side of the road to get the last sign, and I crossed the last border. I almost started to cry. I had been doing it for so long, you know sometimes you don't think you will finish something like that, that you set out to do." 

For other 50 state collectors, the broad geography isn't enough, so they intend to set foot in every county. Counties, as they call themselves, track their collections together and delight in the more obscure and strange corners of America their journeys take them.

An old county line sign (photograph by Ted Sakshaug/Flickr)

Other geographical collectors focus less on the obscure and more on the big ticket, bucket list places that count as must-sees, like the Great Pyramids or the Eiffel Tower. A few years back, in a flurry of publicity and plenty of criticism, the new 7 Wonders of the World were chosen via internet vote, giving a set of far-flung goals to many ambitious collectors. At last count, 1,755 people had pinned "See all 7 Wonders" on to their Pinterest bucket lists. 

Geographically-collecting baseball fans have often chased the goal of seeing a game in every MLB stadium, while more artistically-inclined collectors want to view every possible Vermeer or  da Vinci. Still others follow in the trail of DeTouquville, or stand in all the palaces associated with the reign of Henry VIII. History buffs visit battlefields of the American Civil War, or World Wars I or II.

Basically, if a list of things to see exists, there's probably someone in the world trying to see it all. Geographical collecting can be a collective, cult-like endeavor tracked via websites and organizations, or, it can be the singular obsession of a individual. Whatever the goal, geographical collectors tend to be attracted by the satisfaction of achieving a goal, and often the side adventures that inevitably come along with that victory. Garcia certainly agrees. He plans road trips around all his climbs, valuing a phenomenal aged sour dough pizza he had in Vermont as much as reaching the highest peak, not to mention all the people, whether they be fellow climbers or locals, he meets along the way. He also sees reaching ever higher elevations as a way to cope with the stresses of modern life: "We’re so stuck, everyone's connected by technology in one way or another. It's nice to feel small again. It make you appreciate everything outside."

From the archives of the Waldorf Astoria (all photographs by the author)

As one of the world's greatest and most renowned luxury hotels, New York's Waldorf Astoria has been a byword in glamor, opulence, and sophistication since it opened its original doors in the 1890s. It's been host to royalty, the Hollywood elite, and every US President since Herbert Hoover; its chambers, ballrooms, and bars are as storied as they come. But a recent discovery sheds an intriguing light on the history of the grand hotel.

On the Lexington Avenue side of the building is the exclusive private Marco Polo club lounge. Next to it is the soon-to-be-closed, Kenneth's hair parlor, the salon where Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis had her famous bob cut. During renovations to the hotel in the 1990s, something extraordinary was found hidden in the walls between the club and the salon. No one knows exactly who put it there or why, but buried away was a secret treasure trove: the forgotten archives of the Waldorf Astoria.

Comprising vintage postcards, menus, cocktail lists, ledgers, photographs, and bellhop uniforms, the archive gives remarkable insight into this most glittering of institutions. For anyone interested in the forgotten glamor of old New York, it's an incredible find. I spent an afternoon being shown round the collection for Atlas Obscura, by the hotels own resident archivist.

Today, the physical archive lives in a bespoke office in the hotel. Excellently curated and maintained by Erin Allsop,  a graduate of Brooklyn College’s archival studies program and current graduate student of library and information science at Queen's College, the archive's mission is to collect, preserve, and organize this fascinating collection of artifacts, and most importantly, make it available to everyone. Piece by piece, the archive is making its way online. Whether you would like to look up photographs of Herbert Hoover dining in the Empire Room, or what a cocktail menu from the Bull and Bear bar looked like in 1960, the collection is there to be explored.

For hotel archivist Allsop, her aim is to bring this treasure trove to the public. She said that "outreach and advocacy is a big portion of archiving — letting people know it exists and is searchable." The Waldorf Astoria actually started as two rival hotels, built on the location of what is now the Empire State building. Two feuding cousins of the venerable Astor family — William Waldorf Astor of the Waldorf Hotel (1893) and John Jacob Astor of the Astoria Hotel (1897) — tried to outdo the each other in building a luxury hotel that would block the other's view of Fifth Avenue. The quarreling cousins eventually set aside their differences, and hotel proprietor George Boldt convinced them to join the two hotels with a 300-foot marble corridor. The only condition was that it could be locked from either end in case the feuding resumed.

Called Peacock Alley by the press, it was Manhattan's most prestigious walkway, a place for the wealthy ladies of the Gilded Age to promenade and be seen, and lives on today as the hyphen in the hotel’s name. The need to modernize the hotel saw it move to its current location on prestigious Park Avenue in 1931. At the time of its completion, it was the world's largest hotel, leading future owner Conrad Hilton to call it, "the greatest of them all."

One of my favorite components of the archive is the collection of old menus and drinks lists. Impeccably illustrated in the Art Deco style, they give a flavor of what the well-heeled patrons of the Jazz Age were enjoying in between dancing at the Empire Room and Starlight Roof. The Starlight was one of the city's premiere magnets for socialites. Its roof could retract on warm summer evenings, giving the elegant dining room its fanciful name. Whilst dining on "bisque of crab, Newburg" (30 cents) at the low end of the menu, or "braised larded fricandeau of veal" at $3.50, the menus are full of delights that have long since been consigned to history. With live music performed by the likes of Count Basie, Frank Sinatra, and Ella Fitzgerald, a more glamorous evening is hard to imagine.

The archive is also home to filing cabinets full of as-yet-unpublished photographs. Snapped by the hotel staff photographer, its a star-studded line up of guests and visitors. They include Cole Porter (who lived in the Towers from 1934 until his death in 1964, and whose piano is in the modern day Peacock Alley), Dorothy Lamour, the Duke and Duchess of Windsor, and, most delightfully "Bob Hope and his Gang." If perhaps one photograph in the archive can represent the importance of the Waldorf-Astoria in American society. its of a group shot taken at a dinner held the night before the hotel opened its doors to the public on September 30th, 1930. Its a formidable line up of Henry Firestone (tires), Thomas Edison, Sir Thomas Lipton (tea), Charles Schwab, Henry Ford, Walter Chrysler, George Eastman (Kodak), and Thomas Wilson (sporting goods). 

One of the most remarkable items in the archive is the private photo album of the Thompson-Starrett Company, the firm that built the hotel. The photos show the construction of the hotel from the ground up, starting with recording the moving of the Grand Central substation that was originally on the Park Avenue site. The first photograph in the album shows the group of young architects, crisp white shirts rolled up to the sleeves, responsible for building one of the world’s great hotels.

As well as the ongoing digital archive, physical displays in the hotel lobby show off some of the huge collection of ledgers, old keys, and silverware. An amnesty program was started in 2012 for people who'd pilfered robes, porcelain, and towels, and among some of the items sent back to the Waldorf was a silver ice bucket found in an attic from the original 19th-century hotel.

Today the hotel is as lively ever, and walking into the bustling Art Deco lobby is like stepping back in time to the 1930s. The collection with its thousands of artifacts tells the story of the day-to-day operation of one of the world's grandest hotels, and which was hidden for so long in the wall behind where Jackie O once had her hair set, is a little-known gem in New York City. 

The shore of Plum Island (all photographs by the author unless noted)

Located just off the tip of Long Island's North Fork, New York's Plum Island measures three miles in length, and is only accessible by boat. The island has pristine, sandy beaches, and contains some of area's finest bird habitats. The waters around the island are home to seals and several endangered species of sea turtles. The public, however, is not welcome to visit.

A mariner approaching the island's shore is greeted by large signs announcing "U.S. Property - NO Trespassing." A group of buildings are visible on the northwest side of the island, and for decades rumors have circulated about what the United States government is doing there. The official version is that the U.S. Department of Agriculture operates the Plum Island Animal Disease Center (PIADC) on the island to protect the country's livestock population from devastating foreign diseases. Despite this seemingly straightforward explanation, conspiracy theories abound about other allegedly sinister activities, ranging from Island of Dr. Moreau-type animal breeding to germ warfare programs.

Skeptics point to strange occurrences in the area around Plum Island as evidence of government experiments run amok there, such as the discovery on a Long Island beach of the carcass of a bizarre-looking beast dubbed the Montauk Monster and the proximity of the island to the town of Lyme, Connecticut — the location of an outbreak of the tick-borne illness known today as Lyme disease.

The government has operated the research center at Plum Island since 1954, and during that time relatively few people outside of the facility's employees and visiting scientists have set foot on the island. Recently, however, the government has softened its secretive stance and begun inviting groups to tour the island, such as local Boy Scout troops, Audubon societies, and other organizations that have an interest in the island and the surrounding environment.

In October of 2014, I had the opportunity to visit the island on behalf of Atlas Obscura as part of a group tour sponsored by Mystic Seaport, a maritime museum located on the Connecticut coast a few miles from the island.

Our group began the trip to Plum Island at a marina in Connecticut, where we caught a ride on the ferry that brings government employees back and forth to work on the island. The weather conditions that day were just short of miserable: grey skies and steady, cold rain. Greeting our group was the PIADC's personable public affairs officer, who provided an outline of the day's activities, as well as a list of dos and don'ts while on the island. 

Security on Plum Island is extremely tight, and all visitors must be screened prior to the visit by the Department of Homeland Security. As a reminder of the fact that Plum Island is a secure government facility, we were accompanied throughout our visit by armed security guards. The public affairs officer explained that while photography is permitted in certain areas, we were not to take pictures of the security guards, their vehicles, or the ferry landing area. We could bring some fruit with us as a snack, but if we didn't eat it while on the island, we couldn't take it home. Also, while we could visit the administrative building and some of the older historic structures on the island, the animal testing labs were not part of the tour.

After about a 30-minute ferry ride, we reached the island, and were loaded on a bus which took us to the main PIADC building. Once there, we were ushered into a lecture hall where the public affairs officer gave a lengthy and extremely thorough presentation covering the history of Plum Island, the work conducted at the PIADC, and the island's future. As it turned out, the government's newfound willingness to provide access to the island coincided with the fact that the island is for sale. In 2009, Congress ordered that the PIADC program be transferred to a new facility in Manhattan, Kansas, in order to be closer to the center of the nation's livestock industry. The transition of the Plum Island facility to Kansas may take as long as ten years, but eventually the island will become one of the biggest parcels of available real estate on Long Island Sound.

The recent initiative to invite groups to tour the island is also motivated in part by the recognition that the US government has not provided any counter narrative to the conspiracy theories surrounding the island's operations. The public affairs officer quickly dismissed some of the more outrageous rumors, citing evidence that the bacteria that causes Lyme disease had been around for centuries and was recently discovered in the body of a 5,000-year-old mummy, and that the Montauk Monster was nothing more than a decomposed dog carcass.

We then learned, in significant detail, about the work performed at PIADC in researching and diagnosing animal diseases, in particular foot and mouth disease, and how this work is critical to the safety of the nation's food supply and to our economy. Citing the huge economic impact of a 2001outbreak of foot and mouth disease in livestock in the United Kingdom, our host made a compelling case that while the work of the PIADC may be secretive, it is because the consequences of a widespread livestock disease would be devastating.

 After the presentation, we got back on the bus to tour the island. Our first stop was the final resting place of the only person known to be buried on Plum Island. In 1786, Colonel Thomas Gardiner, whose family lent its name to nearby Gardiner's Island, died of yellow fever. Due to fears about the highly contagious virus, his family brought his body here for burial. His lonely gravestone sits in a clearing off the main road that cuts through the island.

Colonel Gardiner apparently was not too pleased to have been left alone on the island. His ghost is said to haunt the Plum Island Light. Built in 1869, the granite lighthouse was in service until 1978, when the Coast Guard replaced it with an automated light beacon. The light’s Fresnel lens is now on display at the East End Seaport Museum in Greenport, Long Island. The lighthouse was added to the National Register of Historic Places in 2011, but years of neglect have left it in need of restoration.

The Plum Island lighthouse keeper in 1879 (via Brooklyn Museum)

The PIADC only occupies a small portion of Plum Island, leaving much of the rest essentially as a nature preserve, undisturbed by development or other human interference. Our visit included a peaceful inland pond and a section of rocky shore where seals were swimming out in the waves.

During the Spanish American War, the U.S. Army constructed Fort Terry on the island and several of its buildings are still standing. The fort served as a part of the nation's coastal defense system up through World War II. The U.S. military declared the fort surplus in 1948, but some of its buildings continued to be utilized when the PIADC was established in 1954.

One rumor has it that after the war, the American government employed former Nazi scientists to assist with a germ warfare program on the island. While the Nazi involvement has never been confirmed, the island did serve as a bio-weapons research facility until President Richard Nixon ordered the lab closed in 1969. One of the buildings where this program was conducted is known as Building 257. Built in 1911, originally for storing torpedoes and mines, this building has been identified by many conspiracy theorists as the location of the more notorious alleged government experiments conducted on the island. Disappointingly, this building was not a stop on our tour and we had to content ourselves with viewing it through the window of the bus.

In our final stop, we did get a closer look at some of the other buildings at Fort Terry, which are in various stages of ruin and overgrown with vegetation. We visited one of the fort's gun batteries, now little more than crumbling concrete and brick. The large troop barracks was the most prominent building, and looks out onto a beautiful beach that rivals any of those found on Long Island. Our group wound down the tour with a stroll along this beach where on a typical day, the only visitors to be seen anywhere would be seagulls.

With the government's planned sale of Plum Island, interest in its future has increased. Several environmental groups have raised concerns that the island could be sold to a commercial developer seeking to build a high end resort there. The town of Southold, New York, which has jurisdiction over the island, has zoned it non-residential, but what use will ultimately be made of the island is uncertain. For now, the mystery and intrigue surrounding Plum Island endures. 

Aerial view of Plum Island (photograph by kyselak/Wikimedia)

Paris is famous for its Haussmannian boulevards and buildings, and picturesque cafés and bistros. What it certainly isn't famous for is ruins. However, there is quite a collection of old infrastructure, Roman architecture, and an underground city of the dead. Here are ten of the city's most accessible and often overlooked ruins.

LES CATACOMBES DE PARIS

A spiral staircase in the Denfert-Rochereau section of the catacombs (all photographs by the author unless indicated) 

Perhaps the most well-known "ruin" in Paris is the catacombs, a network of quarries that span around 200 miles under the city (in fact Parisians have been known to compare their city to a holey cheese there are so many tunnels dug out under the surface). A small portion of the catacombs were renovated and turned into ossuaries when the original resting places for the bodies were no longer viable, giving it the reputation of being one of the world’s largest graves.

Since 1874, a section has been open on a regular basis for tourists. However, what a lot of tourists don't realize is that this is only a small segment of the mass network of tunnels.  Upon entering the ossuaries, you are faced with this warning: "Arrête! C'est ici l'empire de la Mort" ("Stop! Here lies the Empire of Death"), whereupon you are met with the first of the remains of the six million people that are buried within the catacombs.

As a popular tourist attraction, the catacombs now often have an enormous queue snaking around the block, thus it is always advisable to be early and expect a wait, and dress in layers — it can be extremely cold or hot outside, but the catacombs maintain a fairly consistent temperature once you enter the quarry tunnels. For the more daring, the museum is only the start of your potential journey. The tunnels extend far beyond what is available to see here, but nonetheless provides a fascinating visit. Though you might just find yourself bending the parameters of "easily accessible" and joining the cataphiles in order to seek out the rest…

Le Carrefour des Morts ("The Crossroad of Death"), a part of the catacombs not open to the public (photograph by Adam Slater)

Entrance to the ossuaries

A sculpture of a castle in the catacombs museum

"Sword in the Stone" room (off the museum section of the catacombs).

LA PETITE CEINTURE

Gare Montrouge-Ceinture, demolished late 2014.

La Petite Ceinture, literally "the little belt," is a disused railway line that at the time of its construction, encircled Paris. The 32km long line has served various uses throughout its life. It was originally intended for military use to quickly transport troops around the city; unable to fund the project themselves, the government had to turn to the commercial railway companies to seek finance.

At the time, Paris had five main train stations linking it with other major cities in France, but not to each other, thus it was decided that a better-connected network was imperative. Between 1852 and 1853, Paris saw the arrival of three sections of the Petite Ceinture line, to be used for freight and passengers. However these three sections long remained separate, and it was not until 1869 that the rails became a full "ceinture," or "belt," around Paris.

The tracks now exist in various states of abandonment, gradually falling out of use since 1924, with various projects being undertaken to reuse sections of it. The majority of the west is now the RER line C, and several stations have been turned into bars and restaurants. Many others were destroyed totally. Lately, whole sections of railway have been removed to make way for new accommodations, which makes visiting this ruin essential. 

You may find yourself high up above the streets of Paris looking down on city life, or deep below in serene and peaceful trenches. You might walk across an abandoned station, huge ironwork bridges, street art, homeless settlements, bizarre sculptures, and always fascinating people. This is a truly unique view of Paris.

Accessing the abandoned sections is strictly forbidden, but nonetheless easy and the locals are always willing to help you find a way in. But if this is not your thing, then there is a portion that is now open as a park with plans to extend.

The two above photos show the contrast between sections of the railway. First is the more industrial east of Paris, whereas the second shot shows the trench-like & overgrown line that runs through Parc Montsouris.

A bridge that runs through Parc Villette in the north of Paris.

Many sections of the railway have been colorfully claimed.

The man who lives here has called the Petite Ceinture home for the last seven years.

La Petite Ceinture has become a great meeting place for the unusually inclined and practicing graffiti artists.

LES THERMES DE CLUNY

Partly absorbed by the Musée National du Moyen Âge - Thermes et Hôtel de Cluny, the Thermes de Cluny are the remains of a Gallo-Roman thermal baths. The thermal baths complex was thought to be constructed early in the third century; all that remains now is approximately one third of the original site. Some of the ruins can be seen from the street (see above), but the best-preserved are inside the museum. For instance the frigidarium room, which still contains elements of the original mosaics and paintings.

As the baths were not within the protective walls that sheltered the city in earlier times, they were an easy target for destruction, thus it is thought that towards the end of the century they were destroyed by a group of roving barbarians. The Thermes now largely exist as an archaeological site, and are some of the few Roman ruins left in Paris.

CHATEAU EDMOND DE ROTHSCHILD

Château Edmond de Rothschild

The Château Edmond de Rothschild was built from 1855 to 1861 to house banker James de Rothschild, designed in the style of Louis XIV and surrounded by various themed gardens. During WWII, it was plundered by the Nazis, then taken over by US troops. Having been abandoned by the family long ago, the Baron Edmund de Rothschild (James's son) gave the property to mayor of Boulogne for a symbolic franc, who then quickly sold it. Construction of a main road and hospital truncated the gardens, which now exist as a park.

If you go see the mansion today, it is nestled among trees of the Parc Edmond de Rothschild behind fencing, and access is strictly forbidden. The roof is partially collapsed, and the walls are covered in graffiti, yet it is still a thing of beauty and there are ways to get near should you look closely. 

Side view to the château, on this day it was a choice location for some pellet gun practice.

LES ARENES DE LUTECE

Along with the Thermes de Cluny, the Gallo-Roman era Arènes de Lutèce are some of the oldest ruins in Paris. The Arènes were once an amphitheater that could seat up to 15,000 people and was used for theater, gladiatorial combat, and circus productions. It was constructed in the first century AD, and was one of the longest built by the Romans. Five cubby holes were set up under the lower terraces (where the wealthy male citizens would sit, protected from the sun by an awning), three of which seem to have been animal cages which led straight onto the arena.

During the invasions of 280 AD, the amphitheater actually became a cemetery, and was filled in completely by 1210. Though the space retained its name, les Arènes, it was unclear where the arena had been, and it was not until the construction of Rue Monge in the 1860s that the arena was rediscovered. It was then partly uncovered and turned into a public square, which opened in 1896. The section that is present today is roughly a third of the original amphitheater.

GOUSSAINVILLE-VIEUX PAYS

Abandoned properties in Goussainville-Vieux Pays

Just north of Paris lies the almost ghost town Goussainville-Vieux Pays, a town that was relocated to the current site of Goussainville, approximately 40 years ago. This drastic move was as a result of the original farming village being so close to the flight path of Charles de Gaulle airport; that, and a plane crash in 1973 which smashed a row of 15 houses and a school, killing six crew members and eight locals.

After, a great number of the inhabitants chose to leave almost immediately, which can be seen by the way the houses today are still full of remnants of their former lives. If you now wander the streets of Goussainville-Vieux Pays, you will encounter a town that has fallen into a state of decay. Many houses and store fronts show evidence of rotting, fire damage (sometimes it is hard to tell whether this was from the accident or vandalism), overgrown gardens, smashed windows, and falling away floors. Tucked away from the main streets of the town is also a château, now very dilapidated.

Though not strictly speaking an authentic ghost town — a handful of people do still live here — it does house a lot of ruins in very close proximity, making it a great day trip for those who enjoy exploring derelict sites. Just make sure you pack enough provisions, it is easy to spend several hours.

The burned-out inside of one of the many abandoned houses.

The Chateau of Goussainville-Vieux Pays.

JARDIN D'AGRONOMIE TROPICALE

To the east of Paris are the remains of 1907 Exposition Coloniale. Upon entering the park in the Bois de Vincennes, which is now open to the public, you walk under a large Chinese portico, fading and crumbling. Behind lies a web of overgrown paths leading to various buildings, each symbolic of a region of French colonialism, and all left to decay.

The headless statues, worn signs, twisting paths, and eerie quiet all add to the mystery of the place, raising more questions than answering them. The once "human zoo" is made up of eight sections, with pavilions for Congo, Guyane, Indochina, Morocco, Réunion, Tunisia, and a collection of greenhouses. Each building is styled to represent an area of France's colonial rule, and were built to house actual families shipped over for the 1907 Exposition.

Suffering large amounts of vandalism and lacking the funds to restore them, the buildings have been largely left to crumble. Due to the dirt paths, it is advisable to go on a dry day. Though it is somewhat creepy, it does make a fantastically unconventional location for a picnic as there are a lot of grassy spaces.

PARC MONCEAU

The enchanted grotto of Parc Monceau

Parc Monceau was built in 1778 at the request of the Duke of Chartres, Phillippe d’'Orléans, a cousin of King Louis XVI, who wanted to open a public park that displayed his eclectic tastes. He intended to have it built in the style of an Anglo-Chinese garden, filled with examples of architectural folly in order to amaze and surprise its visitors. It was designed to contain reproductions of different ages and countries, such as a Roman colonnade, a miniature Egyptian pyramid, a Tartar tent, a Dutch windmill, a water lily pond, an enchanted grotto, a temple of Mars, an Italian vineyard, and numerous antique statues.

At the time the garden also featured servants in oriental dress and exotic animals, such as camels. Unlike the Jardin d’Agronomie Tropicale which was built to mimic foreign cultures for spectatorship, Parc Monceau was built as for pure fantasy. 

Over the years it has changed, as Paris went through its various revolutions and Haussmannian restructuring. Yet it is still open to the public, and many of its original features are still present, with the modern-day additions of a play park and free Wi-Fi.

The Roman colonnade

A mini Egyptian pyramid

CRYPT OF NOTRE-DAME

Notre-Dame crypt (photograph by dalbera/Wikimedia)

Under the square in front of the Notre-Dame Cathedral lies a crypt which in 1980 was converted into a small museum for displaying archaeological remains of Paris, allowing visitors to see the stages in which the city developed, from its early Gallo-Roman roots as the settlement known as Lutetia, to the city we know today.

Whereas the other ruins in Paris listed here represent a specific time period, the beauty of the Notre-Dame crypt is that the focus is on the changes Paris went through as it progressed, from the Gallo-Roman period, to the early centuries, to the Middle Ages, and then to the rapid expansion and alterations that Paris experienced in the 18th and 19th centuries. Ruins are displayed alongside each other, and other images are superimposed on top, offering a unique insight to Paris history.

GHOST STATIONS OF THE PARIS METRO

A Paris ghost station (courtesy an anonymous explorer)

Just like most other aspects of Paris, the métro has undergone various restructurings and alterations to its subway plan, from expansions to renovations and even abandonment of some stations. Today the network holds 303 active stations, but unbeknown to many Parisians are the other ten or so stations that have been closed, built but never opened (and thus lack pedestrian access), abandoned in the early stages of construction, simply just moved, or merged with pre-existing stations.

At the start of WWII, the French government activated a plan which required an only partially operable metro service, keeping only 85 stations in use. Slowly some of the stations were reopened; three never were (Arsenal M5, Champ de Mars M8, and Croix-Rouge M10). Saint-Martin (M8 & 9) was temporarily used, but ultimately closed again due to its proximity to another station.

Perhaps two of the most interesting stations are the ones built and never opened — Haxo and Porte Molitor — which lack even entrances. These stations were used as linking points between other lines, but due to logistical issues and unpopularity they eventually closed. Today the tracks at Porte Molitor are used as a garage for other metro carriages.

Access to the stations is strictly forbidden, however very occasionally tours are given to the public which allow you to see the stations in their current state.

Illinois Week on Atlas Obscura was created in partnership with Enjoy Illinois as part of the launch of the new Illinois Obscura Society. Sign up to find out more about the back room tours, unusual adventures, and incredible parties that Atlas Obscura will be putting on in Chicago and greater Illinois.

Illinois, land of Lincoln that it is, has plenty of museums devoted to our favorite top-hatted president. However, the state has a lot more to offer, so let's explore some of the more unusually oriented museums you might otherwise overlook in a road trip across the Prairie State.

Collection of the Museum of Funeral Customs (now at the Kibbe Hancock Heritage Museum)
Carthage, Illinois

Funeral carriage (Photo by Rklawton/Wikimedia)

Once located near Oak Ridge Cemetery where Abraham Lincoln was buried, the Museum of Funeral Customs features paraphernalia used in American funerary and mourning customs. Visitors can enjoy a re-created embalming chamber from the 1920s, coffins, post-mortem photography, and many more deathly exhibits. A highlight of this museum was the funeral train that carried Abraham Lincoln's coffin to its interment. 

Although the museum shut its doors in early 2009 due to low attendance, the collection of funerary items was given to the Kibbe Hancock Heritage Museum in Carthage, Illinois in 2011.

Embalming fluid from America's part (Photo by Rklawton/Wikimedia)

Super Museum
Metropolis, Illinois 

Super Museum in Metropolis, Illinois (Photo by Alan Berning/Flickr)

Did you know that Superman is sort of from Illinois? The Man of Steel's official hometown is indeed Metropolis, simply the Metropolis in Illinois. This heroic heritage is celebrated in the city's Super Museum which features more than 20,000 items from the collection of life-long Superman enthusiast, Jim Hambrick. The superhero's eight decades of history are preserved in exhibits that present virtually every toy ever produced, movie props, posters, costumes, and much more. Apparently quite a few people thought the museum was pretty spectacular as the Super Museum has in the past received the title of "#1 Small Town Attraction in America." 

Inside of Super Museum (Photo by Madolan Greene/Flickr)

American Toby Jug Museum
Evanston, Illinois

One of many display cabinets of toby jugs (Photo by Illinois Office of Tourism)

In case you were unaware, a toby jug is a ceramic pitcher modeled after a person or animal, fictional or historical. Now that we're all on the same page, you'll be pleased to learn that the American Toby Jug Museum has over 8000 of these "tobies." The oldest date back to 1960 and the newest ones are still coming off production lines. 

Founded by Stephen Mullins who started collecting these jugs more than 65 years ago when he was just 13, the collection used to live in his house until it simply became too numerous. The museum now commissions jug pieces directly from artists, with the latest one depicting John F. Kennedy.

American Fluorite Museum
Rosiclare, Illinois

Fluorite display (Photo by Conrad Bakker/Flickr)

Once the largest fluorspar mining company in the United States, the American Fluorite museum features photos, ore specimens, mining paraphernalia, and colorful dioramas of the lengths miners once went to in order to extract the gems from the earth. Once the largest producer in the country, Illinois' last fluorite mines closed in 1995.

Fluroite has important industrial uses, and is well known for protecting our teeth, but many people consider the mineral beautiful on its own. It is currently the state's official mineral, and huge chunks of the bright blue rock are on display in the museum.

Bishop Hill Historic Site
Bishop Hill, Illinois 

Colony Church (Photo by Kepper66/Wikimedia)

45 miles northwest of Peoria, a village was founded in 1846 by a scrappy group of Swedes led by Erik Jansson. As believers in the Pietist movement in Sweden, they focused on personal faith rather than doctrine or theology, putting them at odds with the Church of Sweden. Fearing persecution, Jansson and his followers immigrated to the states and tried to start a commune. The first winter killed many of the colonists but they held strong and soon the population grew to 1500. Jansson maintained direct control over Illinois' first commune until he was murdered in 1850 by his cousin's husband. Economic problems and infighting finally destroyed the commune in 1961.

The present-day historical site features many of the original buildings, including the Greek Revival-style Colony Church and the commune's first permanent building, the Bjorklund Hotel.

Cahokia Mounds State Historic Site
Collinsville, Illinois

Monk's Mound at Cahokia Mounds (Photo by Grolltech/Wikimedia)

A huge pre-Columbian Native American city used to exist directly across the Mississippi River from the current city of St. Louis. The historic site contains 80 human-made earthen mounds used for a variety of functions, but the ancient city used to be much grander. As the most influential settlement of the region at the time, Cahokia's population was at its largest in the 1200s with as many as 40,000 people and was not surpassed by any city in the United States until the late 18th century. 

Cahokia Mounds is currently one of only 22 UNESCO World Heritage Sites in the United States, and it is the most massive prehistoric earthen construction area in the Americas north of Mexico. Monk's Mound is the biggest of the man-made hills, and it has four terraces stretching over ten stories in height. A community of Trappist monks briefly lived there, giving the mound its current name.

Illinois Week on Atlas Obscura was created in partnership with Enjoy Illinois as part of the launch of the new Illinois Obscura Society. Sign up to find out more about the back room tours, unusual adventures, and incredible parties that Atlas Obscura will be putting on in Chicago and greater Illinois.

Sailors have left safe harbors for the open water for millennia, facing rogue waves, waterspouts, faulty equipment, sharks and pirates, among other treacheries of aquatic life. Ships are at the mercy of nature, and fishing is essentially a game of chance—and chance prompts superstition. As they traveled afar, sailors picked up, shared, memorized and passed down superstitions to other crewmembers.

 In The Odyssey, sailors observe their dreams and myriad natural events as prophecies; Homer could barely wend his way through a single hexameter without referencing something to do with birds, thunder, or other harbingers. From Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s The Rime of the Ancient Mariner we know that an albatross sighting was considered good luck by Antarctic-bound crews—unless you killed it, and then, not so much.

I recently drove 3,000 miles or so from South Padre Island, Texas to North Carolina’s Outer Banks along the entire Gulf of Mexico and Southern Atlantic coasts speaking with trawler captains, marine biologists, and chefs for my forthcoming cookbook Shrimp Country: Recipes and Tales from the Coastal Road. Along the way, I got a chance to learn about the astonishing variety of superstitions that help sailors cope with the danger and uncertainty of their work. Each captain I interviewed has his system of beliefs; some overlapped from island to island, while others were unique to them. On my old stomping ground of Tybee Island, Georgia, Captain William Kemp of the shrimp trawler Christina Leigh knew better than to tempt fate by allowing bananas or peanuts on board. Both are monkey food, and in his words, “you don’t want a monkey on your back.” On the Mississippi coast, nautical historian Dr. Val Husley recalls sailors tossing coins overboard as a form of tribute. Tattoos have served as a way to ID sailors’ bodies should things go awry at sea, but they are also talismans for some.

Captain Charlie Livingston of Aransas Pass, Texas's The Babe shows some of his tattoos, including a lucky horseshoe with its open end up to catch the good fortune. (Photo by Anna Marlis Burgard).

Captain Shep Owens of Stock Island, Florida’s Cap’n Bud says if he finds feathers on deck on the day he’s heading out, it’s going to be a profitable fishing trip. Captain Antoine Gilliard makes sure his Wadmalaw Island, South Carolina-based Tina Marie crew never whistles on board(“you don’t whistle for the wind”) or sets their caps upside down (“upside down hat, upside down boat”). If he sees a bird with a shrimp or fish in its beak, he knows it will be a good hunt. Like his peers, Captain Barry Woods of the Island Girl on Amelia Island, Florida never heads out on Fridays. He and others have told me it’s because Jesus was crucified on a Friday, but there are those who think the crew just doesn’t want to miss the action in town on Friday nights.

Captain Shep Owens of Stock Island, Florida's Cap'n Bud holds his good luck charms; When he finds these frigate bird and other feathers on board before shipping out, he knows it will be a good trip. (Photo by Anna Marlis Burgard).

Captain Linda Greenlaw—introduced to us through Sebastian Junger’s The Perfect Storm and then the Discovery Channel’s Swords: Life on the Line—is based on Isle au Haut, Maine, where her family has fished for five generations. Linda is most famous as a swordfish captain. She once wore the same purple t-shirt for 30 days straight because they were hauling in so much fish. Much like a ball player not shaving his beard when his stats are up, she wasn’t about to jinx her good fortune. “If things are going well, you change as little as possible.” She’s frequently worked with men who don’t allow pork on board—or even allow the word pig. “I’m not sure where that one started, but you have to say ‘curly-tailed animal’ or something like that instead.” Many crews won’t allow women on board, considering them bad luck “Jonahs.” Linda’s success is living proof that sometimes the omens just don’t hold water.

Naming a boat has its own superstitions. It’s considered unlucky to rename a vessel unless you follow a certain ritual when doing so: removing all traces of the boat’s current name from log books, maintenance sheets, baseball caps, lifesaving rings and anywhere else, then appeasing the sea and wind gods with supplication, and champagne, before bringing aboard any items inscribed with the new name. Madge Williams, the matriarch of Hobo Seafood in Swanquarter, North Carolina, testifies: “I believe in that superstition a bit. My husband, Lee, changed the name of one of our boats, the Master Les, to Addiction in honor of his penchant for salvaging trawlers. I joke that this was bad luck, because that boat has had frequent break downs and has an ADDICTION to mechanical work...and still often remains...MasterLESS!”

Traditions like these are a part of the cultural fabric of coastal and island communities—and part of what makes my explorations endlessly fascinating and entertaining.

Island hopper Anna Marlis Burgard is the creative force behind hundreds of illustrated books and gift products and is the author and principal photographer for Islands of America: A River, Lake and Sea Odyssey. As part of a monthly "United Islands of America" series, she's sharing some of the more obscure destinations she's discovered on her journeys to more than 80 islands in 22 states.

Illinois Week on Atlas Obscura was created in partnership with Enjoy Illinois as part of the launch of the new Illinois Obscura Society. Sign up to find out more about the back room tours, unusual adventures, and incredible parties that Atlas Obscura will be putting on in Chicago and greater Illinois.

 Chicago’s vibrant network of public libraries opened its doors in the wake of 1871’s great fire. But long before that, private libraries were the norm. These days, Chicago’s small and private libraries still serve niche communities with specialized resources and knowledge. Try one of these little-known spots and immerse yourself in a unique, curated collection.

The International Museum of Surgical Sciences Library 

Photo by Michelle Enemark | Flickr | : Creative Commons Attribution

Alongside an incredible collection of medical artifacts ranging from heart valves to amputation saws, the International Museum of Surgical Science has a beautiful library of over 5,000 journals and books. Among the library's most prized possessions are rare early medical texts dating back to the 16th century and manuscripts from notable figures in medical history such as Florence Nightingale and the pioneer of the smallpox vaccine, Edward Jenner.

Once you are done perusing the rare texts and illustrations, be sure to visit the Hall of Murals, which illustrates great moments in surgical history via 12 graphic oil paintings featuring such medical heavyweights as Semmelweis, Paré, and Vesalius.  

The Teri Rose Memorial Library in the Leather Archives and Museum

The Teri Rose Memorial Library in the Leather Archives and Museum (Photo used with permission by the Leather Archives & Museum)

Cataloguing the history of both BDSM and leather culture through artifacts, equipment, and a massive library of literature, Chicago's Leather Archives & Museum is more than just a collection of handcuffs, whips, and chains, treating the history of fetish subculture as a serious movement worth preserving. The museum covers all manner of niche sexuality from straight fetishism to LGBT interests of all stripe. There are displays of bondage equipment, leather apparel, and the sort of underground artifacts one might expect from a leather museum. There are antique sexual devices as well as a dungeon in the basement complete with a spanking apparatus.

Central to the collection is the Teri Rose Memorial Library, an expansive collection of writing, art, and video materials related to the leather and BDSM movement. The library contains full runs of influential fetish magazines like Bound & Gagged, in addition to countless original writings from important figures in the culture. The museum houses the world's largest collection of original work by famed homosexual painter Etienne, as well as a number of original works by possibly the most well known artist in the genre, Tom of Finland. While there is plenty in the library to titillate guests, perhaps the most shocking aspect may simply be the incredible devotion to the history of an important and often underrepresented subculture.

The Read/Write Library 

The Read/Write Library (Photo used with permission from Read/Write Tumblr)

This tiny mecca to Chicago-specific media is a worthy diversion from the beaten path. Originally the Chicago Underground Library, it migrated from location to location until settling into its current home near Humboldt Park. It also received a huge donation of Chicago-centric lit in recent years. These days it’s a boundary-crossing collection of zines, small press publications, and much more. Admission is free.

The Field Museum's Library and Photo Archives Collection

Photo of the moon model at the Chicago Field Museum prepared by Johann Friedrich Julius Schmidt in Germany (1898) (Photo by Field Museum Library / Flickr)

Alongside the dinosaur skeletons, geological specimens, and taxidermy Komodo dragons, Chicago’s Field Museum has a less flashy, but no less incredible resource. The Field Museum Library is open Tuesday to Friday for researchers with confirmed appointments. With over 275,000 volumes on biology, evolution, geology, archaeology, and ethnology the library is a unique resource for natural history and history of science researchers. Some of the most valuable items in the collections can be found in the Mary W. Runnells Rare Book Room with 7,500 rare volumes and over 3,000 original works of art.

However most wonderful for general perusing is the Field Museum's incredible photo archive. Dating back to the 1893 World's Fair it contains over 300,000 images documenting the history of the museum, its staff, and the many field expeditions alongside other unique collections. Photos of Carl Akeley as he perfected his taxidermy techniques in the museum, hundreds of photos of the Philippine Islands and Indonesia between 1908 and 1910, and the photography of Malvina Hoffman who in 1930 travelled the world to document its peoples can all be found among the photo archives. These collections just scratch the surface of the huge and incredible collection of photos in the Field Museum's Library and Photo Archives Collection. If you can't make it in person they also have a wonderful Flickr page and a terrific Tumblr.

Pritzker Military Museum & Library

Pritzker Military Museum + Library (Photo used with permission of the Pritzker Military Museum + Library)

Just a stone’s throw from the busiest sections of the Loop, check out the stunning halls of the Pritzker Military Museum & Library. It’s dedicated to preserving military history through its rare books, rotating exhibits, digital collections, guest speakers, and more. Explore its iconic war posters, listen to a lecture on leadership, or just slip away from the downtown crowds to learn something new. Admission is $5.

The Ryerson and Burnham Libraries

Art Institute - Ryerson Library (Photo used with permission of the Art Institute of Chicago)

Back in the day, libraries were constructed to be print-filled cathedrals of knowledge. The Ryerson and Burnham libraries uphold this reverent old-school aesthetic, while still offering free wi-fi. As part of the Art Institute of Chicago, they hold the keys to the artistic kingdom, with more than 500,000 print titles and many more held digitally.

The Oriental Institute Research Archives and Elizabeth Morse Genius Reading Room

The Oriental Institute Research Archives and Elizabeth Morse Genius Reading Room. (Photo by Foy Scalf / Flickr)

"The most beautiful room in the building is the library reading-room in the west wing, where for the first time the entire specialized group of books representing the field of research with which the Institute is concerned is conveniently accessible." - James Henry Breasted founder of the Oriental Institute

With more than 60,000 volumes, for students of the Ancient Near East, this library is a truly unique resource. Intended to collect the entire body of knowledge on the Ancient Near East in one place, the collection was overseen for 40 years by a singular librarian named Johanne Vindenas. From 1924 to 1964 she catalogued over 50,000 volumes in an immaculate system of 284,000 index cards. Her work was so renowned among librarians that in 1970, the Catalog of the Oriental Institute Library, a 16-volume set of her indexing work was published.

After a disastrous move of the collection into the central university library system, the research archives were founded in 1972 which brought back the collection and reestablished the vision of an entire field of knowledge under one beautiful roof.

The Poetry Foundation Library

Poetry Foundation (Photo used with permission of the Poetry Foundation)

With 30,000 volumes, the Poetry Foundation houses the Midwest’s only library devoted solely to poetry. Listen to audio or video recordings, research your favorite verses or write your own while surrounded by the greats. Plus it’s got free wi-fi and a beautiful location downtown. Open to the public on weekdays, as long as you’re using it for poetry-related purposes.

The Gerber/Hart Library and Archives 

Gerber/Hart Library (Photo used with permission of the Gerber/Hart Library)

In its recently renovated space, the Gerber/Hart Library features the Midwest’s largest collection of LGBT literature. Plus, it’s a busy community spot, with open hours and events attended by hundreds. Stop in to research or browse the extensive collection of more than 14,000 volumes. Admission is free.

Edgewater Reads - Little Free Libraries

Edgewater Reads Little Free Library (Photo used with permission of Edgewater Reads)

Little Free Libraries have popped up all over the country, and the Edgewater neighborhood is no exception. The area’s city branch library was among the highest in circulation when it was closed for renovations, and the community filled the gap with these boxes. Hunt for them in the Edgewater/Andersonville area and see what’s in stock. 

Illinois Week on Atlas Obscura was created in partnership with Enjoy Illinois as part of the launch of the new Illinois Obscura Society. Sign up to find out more about the back room tours, unusual adventures, and incredible parties that Atlas Obscura will be putting on in Chicago and greater Illinois.

Illinois Week on Atlas Obscura was created in partnership with Enjoy Illinois as part of the launch of the new Illinois Obscura Society. Sign up to find out more about the back room tours, unusual adventures, and incredible parties that Atlas Obscura will be putting on in Chicago and greater Illinois.

National Guard Armory, Champaign, Illinois (Photo by Tau Zero/Flickr)

Most people are no stranger to Art Deco. The early 20^th century design movement flourished between the two World Wars and came to symbolize the world’s dreams of a bright modern future. However most people simply associate the style with its metropolis exemplars – skyscrapers of New York, apartment blocks in Miami, buildings throughout Chicago. But the Art Deco movement left its stamp in more places than just the big cities. Here in Illinois, there are a  number of notable Art Deco buildings you can visit without having to set foot anywhere near the El. 

PARAMOUNT THEATER
Aurora, Illinois

 Paramount Theater (Photo by CBradshaw/Wikimedia Commons)

The Paramount was an early example of a series of theaters the Paramount Company intended to build in all American cities during the 1930s, before the Depression stalled their plans. Luckily, another company had already secured most of the funding for this Venetian-themed movie house, so Paramount only had to pay for the finishing touches (and a name change) before they were able to open The Paramount in 1931 with a lavish party featuring appearances from Jack Benny, Claudette Colbert, and The Marx Brothers.

The Paramount (Photo by Stephanie Barto/Flickr)

Throughout the Depression, the Paramount offered not only movies, but vaudeville, live theater, and circus acts, as well as then-novel air conditioning. The Paramount operated continuously until 1976, when it was granted National Landmark status and restored to its initial glory. Today it continues operation as a theater and movie venue, and has been named one of the top ten theaters in the greater Chicago Area. Movie history buffs can also sign up for guided tours of the venue.

BOONE COUNTY COMMUNITY BUILDING COMPLEX
Belvedire, Illinois

Boone County Community Building Complex (Photo by Community Building Complex of Boone County/Facebook)

Attention, architecture buffs – this one location features not just one, but three distinct building styles, offering a mini-tour of early 20th-century Illinois design all in one place.

Boone County Community Building Complex (Photo by Teemu08/Flickr)

Originally the city's high school, the main building dates to 1893 and features a Classical Revival style popularized by the 1893 Chicago Worlds’ Fair. Then in 1916, the school needed another wing – and used a Prairie School design. Ironically, the Prairie School was an architectural movement founded at the same Chicago Worlds’ Fair, favoring a simple style and handcrafted appearance; the Prairie School was developed by younger architects who felt that the Classical Revival was too ornate. In the 1930s, the school needed an auditorium; the Prairie School was out, and Art Deco was in. So the auditorium features an Art Deco design.

Today the building complex is a venue for concerts, meetings, and community sports and art events.

NATIONAL GUARD BUILDINGS
Cairo, Champaign, Delavan, Pontiac, Rockford, and Urbana (and Others)
 

Delavan National Guard Armory (Photo by Douglas Coulter/Flickr)

One reason Illinois saw a surge in Art Deco design was because of the federal Works Progress Administration (WPA). This New Deal program offered millions of Americans relief from the Great Depression by employing them in public works projects like building roads or improving public parks. The WPA also funded several new public buildings – many of which in the then-current Art Deco style. Several Illinois cities got new National Guard armory buildings thanks to the WPA.

Champaign National Guard Armory (Photo by benjamin sTone/Flickr)

Some cities' armories even shared the same design, first drawn up by Cook County architect S. Milton Eichberg. Eichberg’s armories are more reserved, as befits a military building, but still feature striking details like a pair of stone eagles flanking the main entrance. The design was striking enough for the city of Urbana to recently name their own armory one of the “100 Most Important Buildings” in town.

CAMPANA BUILDING
Batavia, Illinois

 Campana Building (Photo by Pam Broviak/Flickr)

During the Great Depression, the Campana company was one of a very few industries enjoying economic success thanks to its popular “Italian Balm” hand lotion (and a very aggressive ad campaign). Campana was doing so well, in fact, that they needed to upgrade their factory in 1936.

Campana Building (Photo by JohnPickenPhoto/Flickr)

The new factory was both designed to be functionally high-tech, as well as architecturally attractive. The building was three-stories tall, with a central tower rising 100 feet up to draw attention. The floors used glass bricks instead of windows, and filled the darker interior areas with fluorescent light and white tile. The entire building also boasted air conditioning for the workers’ comfort. The east wing had a “visitors’ gallery,” with a balcony and plate glass windows offering visiting investors a chance to watch the action on the factory floor without disturbing the workers.

Campana Building (Photo by Pam Broviak/Flickr)

Campana was bought out by Dow Chemical in the 1960s, and the factory closed in the 1970s. Today the building is home to a costume rental facility, which proudly displays a picture of the landmark building on its web site.

ELGIN TOWER BUILDING
Elgin, Illinois 

 
Elgin Tower Building (Photo by G Le Tourneau/Wikimedia Commons)

The city of Elgin enjoyed rapid growth through the 1800s, and was not yet 100 years old when it erected its first skyscraper – the Elgin Tower building, completed in May of 1929. Its main tenant was the Home National Bank, which installed state-of-the art bank vaults it claimed were both fire and burglar-proof; the Tower enlisted other local tenants over the course of that summer – and then the stock market crashed in October. 

Elgin Tower Building (Photo by Teemu08/Flickr)

Home National Bank folded a couple years later, as did many of the Tower’s other tenants.  The First National Bank of Chicago took over the building, and a ban on new construction in Elgin during the 1930s lead other new businesses to take up residence again, including a drug store on the main floor.

Elgin Tower Building (Photo by G Le Tourneau/Wikimedia)

Elgin Tower’s luck has risen and fallen along with the town’s, but the building’s Art Deco design has stood out as a noteworthy exception to the rest of Elgin’s Victorian architecture, and it easily won landmark status in 2002. Today it houses Elgin’s Downtown Neighborhood Association.

EGYPTIAN THEATER
Dekalb, Illinois

 Egyptian Theater (Photo by Don Burkett/Flickr)

In addition to the influences Art Deco, 1920s and 30s architectural design had a brief obsession with Ancient Egypt, inspired by the 1922 discovery of the Tomb of Tutankhamen. Dekalb’s theater was one of over 100 movie houses using an Egyptian motif when it opened in 1929; however, only five such houses remain today, and the Egyptian is the only one east of the Rocky Mountains.

Egyptian Theater (Photo by Dave Putz/Connie Sieh/Flickr)

In its heyday the Egyptian was primarily a movie house with occasional live acts on weekends. After it closed in the 1970s, local movie fans rallied to take over the venue, restoring it to its original splendor and reopening it in 1983. The Egyptian has since housed live concert gigs from the likes of B.B. King, Lewis Black, REM, and The Violent Femmes, as well as weddings and community meetings; and, of course, the Egyptian still shows movies on the county’s largest screen.

CORONADO PERFORMING ARTS CENTER AND LIEBLING BUILDING
Rockford, Illinois

Coronado Performing Arts Center (Photo by Ivo Shandor/Wikimedia Commons)

Where Dekalb went Egyptian, the Coronado went Spanish. The Coronado Theater was another lavish movie house from the 1920s, with an interior design meant to emulate an evening in a Spanish outdoor plaza – the walls were decorated to resemble Spanish building facades, complete with stained-glass lamps, and the ceiling was a deep blue festooned with “stars.” 

Coronado Performing Arts Center (Photo by vxla/Flickr)

It also featured occasional live acts amid its movie roster – Judy Garland, Bob Hope, and Frank Sinatra among them – but did away with movies in the 1980s and now serves as an all-live venue. However, it has preserved its original pipe organ from its early days as a silent movie venue; the Land of Lincoln Theater Organ Society, a separate entity devoted to theater organ preservation, offers occasional demonstrations on its use.

Coronado Performing Arts Center (Photo by vxla/Flickr)

Next door to the Coronado, the Liebling Building – also known as the “Jackson Piano Building” to locals – is another art deco building with a more mundane past as a nondescript office building. Today it’s home to the Coronado Center gift shop, but the Liebling’s façade is worth some attention as well.

ST. CHARLES MUNICIPAL BUILDING
St. Charles, Illinois

St. Charles Municipal Building (Photo by Bart Heird/Flickr)

In the 1920s and 30s, St. Charles enjoyed the patronage of a local benefactor – “Colonel” Edward J. Baker, a civic-minded fellow and heir to a barbed wire salesman’s fortune. Baker invested most of his wealth on general improvements to St. Charles, funding this new Municipal Building in the late 1930s.

St. Charles Municipal Building (Photo by Daniel X. O'Neill/Flickr)

The building was meant to be a one-stop center for city business, and featured a bus station, city clerk’s office, police station, city council chamber, and offices for the mayor and the superintendent of public works. Baker also insisted on a wing devoted to museum displays on St. Charles’ industrial history. The interior design has been largely preserved since its opening in 1940. In 1998, the city added a mural to its exterior, depicting St. Charles’ town history.

PICKWICK THEATER
Park Ridge, Illinois

 
Pickwick Theater (Photo by BWChicago/Flickr)

Like other movie-and-vaudeville houses of the 1930s, the Pickwick featured an exotic motif – the main auditorium was designed to look like a Mayan temple.

Pickwick Theater (Photo by BWChicago/Flickr)

Pickwick Theater (Photo by BWChicago/Flickr)

However sharp-eyed movie fans may recognize the Pickwick’s marquee and ticket counter from the opening credits of the old review program, Siskel & Ebert & The Movies.

Pickwick Theater (Photo by Kelly Martin/Wikimedia Commons)

Illinois Week on Atlas Obscura was created in partnership with Enjoy Illinois as part of the launch of the new Illinois Obscura Society. Sign up to find out more about the back room tours, unusual adventures, and incredible parties that Atlas Obscura will be putting on in Chicago and greater Illinois.

Illinois Week on Atlas Obscura was created in partnership with Enjoy Illinois as part of the launch of the new Illinois Obscura Society. Sign up to find out more about the back room tours, unusual adventures, and incredible parties that Atlas Obscura will be putting on in Chicago and greater Illinois.

The Colosimo Tomb (Photo by Adam Selzer)

"Big Jim" Colosimo died in 1920. There was never any doubt about that. The pre-prohibition-era vice lord and power broker was shot to death in his own restaurant on May 11 of that year, and taken to his tomb in Oak Wood Cemetery in a solid bronze casket during a ceremony attended by politicians with names like “Hinky Dink” Kenna, “Bathhouse John” Coughlin, and “Diamond Joe” Esposito. We still don’t know who shot him, but we know that it was in 1920. That much, at least, is sure. We even have the newspaper articles and a death certificate. But a few years back, someone tried to break into his vault at Oak Woods, perhaps thinking that a solid bronze casket would fetch a pretty penny down at the scrap metal yard. They never made it past the front door, but damaged it enough to give curious onlookers a peek inside the tomb, where the solitary slab held a curious year of death, “JAMES COLOSIMO: 1877-1919."

Inside the Colosimo Tomb (Photo by Adam Selzer)

1919? Typos on graves are not nearly as uncommon as one might think. Exactly why there was one on such a high-profile headstone as Colosimo’s isn’t known, but its not impossible to imagine the guy carving the letters on the slab was still writing “1919” on his checks half the time, and figured no one would ever see. But nearly a century later, people saw it and the tomb went from being simply a historic one to a fascinating example of human error preserved through time. 

I was terrified of cemeteries as a kid - I often joke that I really did my part to push global warming along as teenager, since they still freaked me out so much that I’d drive far, far out of my way to keep from going past one. I finally went into one in college when someone told me that there was a waterslide in the middle of the one in Carrollton, Georgia (no phobia is worth missing a graveyard waterslide), and I came to learn just how fascinating a cemetery safari can be. Everywhere you look, there’s another mystery to solve. Why did someone want an Egyptian-style tomb in Illinois? What’s that place like on the inside? What’s with that cryptic epitaph? What sort of family has a rotating monument built for their family plot? One quick trip to a cemetery today can give me enough research topics to last a month.

Chicago cemeteries are replete with fantastic tombs, but one of the most tantalizing mini-mausoleum in town isn’t even in a cemetery at all, at least not officially. Our city is home to some 60 or 70 “abandoned cemeteries,” some of which still contain the remains of tens of thousands of people. The old City Cemetery that stood where Lincoln Park is now, between North Avenue and Fullerton, was far from the largest, but it’s the one you’re most likely to wander through without realizing that you’re walking through an old burial ground. Every day, countless Chicagoans pass right by a small stone structure in the park and don’t notice it - if they glance at it, they assume it’s a tool shed or something. But it’s a tomb - the oldest extant structure in the north Chicago Fire zone.

This tomb at the south end of Lincoln Park was built 1858 for Ira Couch, a hotel owner who had died in Cuba the year before, at a cost of $7000 (in 1850s money, when a dollar a day was decent pay). Most of the other above-ground tombs were removed shortly after the cemetery was closed in the 1860s, but, for reasons not entirely clear, the Couch mausoleum remained.

The Couch Mausoleum (Photo by Adam Selzer)

Exactly what’s inside of that tomb has been one of the city’s most tantalizing mysteries; as of 1911, Ira’s grandson estimated that there were about eight people in the tomb, and insisted that the bodies had never been moved. That year, in 1911, a rumor that it was going to be opened attracted a huge crowd, and a city official tried to quiet people by saying he’d been inside of it in 1901 and seen no bodies. But no record of it being opened since the 1860s has ever been found, and the door is sealed shut. By sliding an iPhone taped to a wire hanger under the door I was able to get a shot of the inside, but the only thing behind the door is another door.

Inside the Couch Tomb (Photo by Adam Selzer)

There are plenty of other tombs in town that are just as fascinating. In Graceland Cemetery, there are two tombs designed by Louis Sullivan, one of the most notable architects of the "Chicago School" of design. In 1889, he designed the Egyptian Revival Ryerson Tomb for a lumber baron, and the attention it created got him the commission for the tomb of Carrie Eliza Getty the next year. The Ryerson tomb is neat, but the Getty may be the single most perfect example of Sullivan's architectural style still standing. Frank Lloyd Wright referred to the tomb as "a piece of sculpture, a statue, a great poem," and it became a city landmark in 1971. I've never found anything showing quite what it's like on the inside; it's last known to have been opened in 1946, when Carrie's daughter Alice, a noted composer and scholar of Buddhist iconography, was interred there. Even paperwork from the landmarking process note that the interior is something of a mystery.

Getty Tomb (Louis Sullivan, 1890) Photo by Eric Allix Rogers from Flickr. Creative Commons Some Rights Reserved 

The Wolff Tomb (Photo by Adam Selzer)

Just north of the Getty Vault stands the tomb of plumbing supply magnate Ludwig Wolff, which is carved into a hill with a staircase leading underground - and it’s also said to be haunted. Though it’s not one of the more widely-believed ghost stories in town, some say that the tomb is guarded by some sort of green-eyed ghoul whose voice can be heard if you press your ear to the door. People who claim to hear it are probably just hearing brakes squealing on nearby Montrose Avenue.

Further west, in Rose Hill Cemetery, stands a massive marble column that serves as the Harris tomb of the Harris bank fortune. When one peeks into the door, all one sees is a giant pit with a ladder leading down into the ground. 

The pit in the Harris tomb

Last but hardly least among the great Chicago tombs is a crypt found in the main mausoleum at Rose Hill sit several small chairs with fish designs carved into them - the first sign that you’re standing before the crypt of John G. Shedd, who lent his name to the Shedd Aquarium. The doors to the crypt are kept unlocked, so one can walk right in. And it’s a heck of a crypt, crowned by a massive stained glass window designed by the Tiffany company. When the sun is just right, the whole crypt is bathed in blue light, giving the whole crypt an appropriately “underwater” vibe.

The aquatic Shedd window

What’s most fascinating about the window is the design - featuring a guy in a hooded robe holding a sword, and with a large key dangling around his neck - the image looks like something from the back of Led Zeppelin IV. Often, odd symbols like this on tombs turn out to be symbols of some group like the Freemasons, the Order of Oddfellows, or the like, but no one I’ve ever spoken to has ever been able to tell me what the significance of the guy in the hooded robe was - only that Shedd wanted something truly unique.

Of course these are only a sampling; Graceland, Rose Hill, and Oak Woods are all open to the public, and it’s impossible to wander in any of them for long without finding something fascinating to admire, or some new mystery to solve. 

Illinois Week on Atlas Obscura was created in partnership with Enjoy Illinois as part of the launch of the new Illinois Obscura Society. Sign up to find out more about the back room tours, unusual adventures, and incredible parties that Atlas Obscura will be putting on in Chicago and greater Illinois.

The oldest still-operating business in the United States, the Shirley Plantation, celebrated its 400th anniversary in 2013. But when Shirley Plantation opened in 1613, the Nishiyama Onsen, Hayakawa, Japan, had already been operating for nearly 1,000 years. Founded in 705CE, the Nishiyama Onsen, or hot spring bathing house and hotel, has been going for more than 1300 years, with fifty-two generations of the same family running the inn. And it's not just the owners who have been working there for generations - there are even some members of the staff whose families have been working in the same post for centuries. There are, in Japan, a number of ryokans (traditional inns) that are more than 1,000 years old, with the Hoshi Ryokan, in Komatsu, Ishikawa, recorded as being founding in 718, a mere thirteen years after the Nisiyama Onsen. The Hoshi Ryokan has also been operated by the same family since its inception, with forty-six generations working and running the inn.

 Hōshi Ryokan in winter (photo by Akiyoshi's Room/Wikipedia).

“Dōgo Onsen” Hot Springs (photo by Japanexperterna.se/Wikipedia)

Japan has a huge number of ancient companies: Of the fifty companies worldwide founded before the year 1300 that are still operating, 24 are Japanese. Most are ryokans or onsen, but others include Genda Shigyo, manufacturers of paper bags (founded in 771); as well as three different confectionary companies: Ichimonjiya Wasuke (founded 1000 CE), Gorobee Ame (1177), and Fujito (1184). Nishimaya Onsen is not even the oldest business in Japan: Kongo Gumi, a construction company, and the world's oldest, still-trading company, was founded in 578, though it was absorbed into a larger conglomerate in 2006.  In fact, as of 2008, the world has 5,586 companies more than 200 years old, of which 3,146 were in Japan. As for companies that are more than 100 years old, a survey discovered that there are more than 21,000 such companies in Japan.

There are ancient businesses in Europe, too: the Stiftskeller St. Peter, in Salzburg, Austria, for instance. Alcuin of York, a British scholar and abbot who was invited into the court of Charlemagne, first mentioned this ancient restaurant in 803 CE. There are also dozens of pubs throughout the United Kingdom and Ireland with centuries worth of trade beneath their belts. During renovations of  Sean's Bar, in Athlone, Ireland. in the 1970s, workmen found that the walls were constructed of wattle and wicker, and were dated back to the 10^th century. The Bingley Arms, in Leeds, was recorded in the famous Domesday Book of William the Conqueror, and is believed to date from sometime between 905 and 953 CE.

The Bingley Arms, Bardsey, West Yorkshire, perhaps the oldest pub in the UK (photo by Mtaylor848/Wikimedia Commons)

Wall remains dating from the 9th century at Sean's Bar, Athlone (photo by Serge Ottoviani/Wikipedia)

European antique companies tend to be concerns like restaurants, bars, breweries, or vineyards, with the occasional mill or foundry thrown in. What are the most famous old businesses that you've probably heard of? The Italian gun manufacturer Beretta has been family-owned since 1526, when the city of Gardone required 185 arquebuses. Stella Artois has been brewing in Belgium since 1366, and Lowenbrau has been going since 1383. Cambridge University Press has been printing "all manner of books" since Henry VIII used those words in its charter, and the Zildjian cymbal company, which most people consider to be American, was founded in Istanbul in 1623.

The Löwenbräukeller in Munich (photo by Rufus46/Wikipedia)

Your cup of tea may well have been produced by a company that has been trading since 1706. Twinings Tea has not only been selling tea for more than 300 years, it's also been in the same location since its founding. 

These companies have managed to stay in business mostly because of their reliance on tradition and their brand recognition. There's something to be said for buying a brand of cymbals that have been in constant manufacture for almost 400 years. There's a quality in age.

Banks are also among the oldest businesses still in operation. The Berenberg Bank, from Germany, has been in operation since 1590, and Barclays, Coutts, and the Banks of England and of Scotland were all founded in the 1690s. The oldest American banks, such as the Bank of New York, were founded in the 18^th century.

Not every old company is bound by tradition. Perhaps the most famous examples of ancient innovative companies are Japanese. Mitsubishi, which most people know of as an auto manufacturer, started in 1870, with shipping as its primary interest. The conglomerate also trades in shipbuilding, banking (the largest bank in Japan), insurance, nuclear power, chemicals, and cameras. In 1887, Yamaha, well-known as manufacturers of motorbikes, began as a piano maker. They now make everything from semi-conductors and sporting goods to industrial robots. Nintendo was also founded in the 1880s, with the company first started making hanafuda playing cards, and has, in the past, invested in businesses ranging from love hotels to taxi services.

Former headquarters plate, from when Nintendo was solely a playing card company (photo by Eckhard Pecher/Wikipedia)

Illinois Week on Atlas Obscura was created in partnership with Enjoy Illinois as part of the launch of the new Illinois Obscura Society. Sign up to find out more about the back room tours, unusual adventures, and incredible parties that Atlas Obscura will be putting on in Chicago and greater Illinois.

Bas relief from Chicago Stadium at St. Ignatius College Prep (Photo by Jyoti Srivastava, Used with Permission)

Chicago isn’t just a city. It’s a collection of neighborhoods built and defined by ethnic groups and cultures from across the world. Nowadays a lot of those old neighborhoods look much different than they did over 100 years ago but bits and pieces of these places still echo the history of the people, places, and events that helped to shape the way the city lives today. With a little determination and exploration you can visit some truly hidden relics that most Chicagoans don’t even know exist.  

Architectural Remnants at St. Ignatius College Prep
1076 W. Roosevelt Rd

Architectural Remnants at St. Ignatius College Prep (Photo by Photo by Jyoti Srivastava, Used with Permission) 

Originally built in 1870, St. Ignatius College Prep is one of Chicago’s oldest and most prestigious high schools. But the historic academic building isn’t the delight here. In the early 1990s, school president Father Donald Rowe began collecting pieces of classic Chicago architecture destined for demolition, figuring these artifacts would complement the school nicely.

Over the course of two and a half decades the school has acquired gorgeous remnants from places like the Chicago Stock Exchange (built 1893), Chicago Stadium (built 1930), Corn Exchange Building, The Ogden Avenue Viaduct (built 1932) and the Record-Herald Building, among others. 

Flowerpot from Chicago Stock Exchange Building, now at St. Ignatius (Photo by Jyoti Srivastava, Used with Permission) 

Balbo Monument
Located on the Lake Front Trail, just east of Solider Field and between Waldron Drive and McFetridge Drive

Balbo Monument (Photo by Eric Allix Rogers on Flickr)

The Balbo Monument is the oldest, publicly accessible structure in Chicago, and perhaps the only one donated to the city by one of America’s greatest enemies. Originally built around 117 BCE, it was donated to Chicago in 1933 by Benito Mussolini to commemorate the transatlantic flight of Italo Balbo and the Italian Pavilion at the Century of Progress World’s Fair.

The monument bears the following description:

"This column, twenty centuries old, was erected on the beach of Ostia, the port of Imperial Rome, to watch over the fortunes and victories of the Roman triremes. Fascist Italy, with the sponsorship of Benito Mussolini, presents to Chicago a symbol and memorial in honor of the Atlantic Squadron led by Balbo, which with Roman daring, flew across the ocean in the 11th year of the Fascist era." 

Oak Woods Cemetery
1035 E. 67th Street

The Oak Woods monument to the Camp Douglas dead (Photo by seanbirm on Flickr)

Oak Woods is the final home of Olympian Jesse Owens, five Chicago Mayors, and legendary baseball player Cap Anson. It is also the site of what may be the largest mass grave in the Western Hemisphere.

During the Civil War, Camp Douglas opened as one of the largest Confederate POW camps in the Union. Located in what is today Chicago’s Bronzeville neighborhood, Camp Douglas was notoriously horrible, resulting in the deaths of thousands of Confederate troops. The soldiers were temporarily buried at Camp Douglas but it was decided that they would need to be moved. So off to Oak Woods they went, interned as the first burials in the new cemetery.

A monument at Oak Woods claims that 6,000 soldiers are buried there, and has the names of more than 4,000 men engraved into it. 

Henry B. Clarke House
1827 S. Indiana Ave

The Clarke House (Photo by John Tolva on Flickr)

Built in 1836, the Clark House is the oldest house standing in Chicago today. The house, which was moved to its current site in the 1970s, serves as a museum where visitors can get a taste of what life was like for Chicago’s earliest settlers. 

Bellinger Cottage
2121 North Hudson 

The Bellinger Cottage (Photo by Jyoti Srivastava, Used with Permission) 

Not many buildings survived the Chicago Fire of 1871. Actually, it’s believed that only about seven made it out intact. On the northern end of the Chicago Fire Zone –in present day Lincoln Park- one lone cottage stood on Hudson Avenue. It was owned by policeman Richard Bellinger and according to the Chicago Tribune the house was designed by William Boynton, the same architect who built the Chicago Water Tower (also a survivor of the Fire).

In 1988 the Tribune wrote that the house was saved from the fire by Bellinger, his brother-in-law and another cop who tore down the sidewalk and wooden fence around the cottage as to make a firebreak. They then soaked rugs and blankets in a nearby well and carried them to the shingle roof to protect it from the embers and ash falling from the sky.

Another interesting artifact from the fire is a large hunk of melted metal located in nearby Lincoln Park. To the unsuspecting eye it looks like a piece of garbage or even a large rock. It's actually the remains of a hardware store that burned during the conflagration of 1871, and it weighs more than 24 tons. 

This used to be a hardware store. (Photo by Jyoti Srivastava, Used with Permission)  

Pullman District
East of Cottage Grove Ave from E 103rd St. to E 115th St.

The Florence Hotel in the Pullman District (Photo by Richie Diesterheft on Flickr)

The Pullman District is a remarkable example of a planned community--the first planned industrial town in the United States. George Pullman was a powerful industrialist and owner of the Pullman Palace Car Company, which built and assembled sleeping cars for trains. In the 1880s he built the town of Pullman to house his employees. The town, the site of the 1894 Pullman strike, was eventually annexed into the city of Chicago. Some points of interest within the Pullman District include the Hotel Florence (11111 S. Forrestville Ave) and the Greenstone United Methodist Church (11211 S. Saint Lawrence Ave). President Obama announced this month that he will designate the Pullman District as a National Monument.

Illinois Week on Atlas Obscura was created in partnership with Enjoy Illinois as part of the launch of the new Illinois Obscura Society. Sign up to find out more about the back room tours, unusual adventures, and incredible parties that Atlas Obscura will be putting on in Chicago and greater Illinois.

Tucked away in an apartment building in the city of Burlington, Vermont is an extraordinary wall painting known as the Lost Shul Mural. The mural, which adorns the apse of a former synagogue--“shul” means synagogue--was hidden behind a wall for 25 years. It is the only known remaining example of pre-Holocaust Jewish synagogue folk art in the United States, and one of the best-preserved surviving examples in the world.

The Lost Shul Mural today (Photo by Amanda Levinson).

The story of the mural begins in 1889, when a group of Jewish Lithuanian immigrants built a wooden synagogue in Burlington they called Chai Adam. In 1910, the congregation hired a Lithuanian Jewish artist named Ben Zion Black to paint a mural in the style of religious Jewish art then popular in sanctuaries across Eastern Europe. The mural depicts the curtains of a tent, pulled back to reveal bright rays of divine sunlight shining down on an ornate crown - the scroll beneath it reveals it is the “crown of the Torah.” The crown hovers above the tablets bearing the Ten Commandments. These tablets, in turn, are flanked by two lions, symbols of the Jewish people. For the original congregants of Chai Adam, the mural provided not only spiritual comfort; It was also an important cultural link between the old world of Lithuania and their adopted homeland.

It was the only religious mural that Black, who was also a mandolin player, actor, Yiddish poet and playwright, would paint. A secular Jew, he went on to own a commercial sign company, “Signs of the Better Kind,” for 50 years, and wrote poetry for Yiddish newspapers.

The Chai Adam Synagogue in 1910 (Photo from Lost Shul Mural Committee).

In 1939, Chai Adam merged with another congregation and closed its doors. The building was sold several times and was used at one time as a warehouse, exposing the mural to dust and smoke. In 1986, the building was converted into apartments. Members of Burlington’s small Jewish community had the foresight to hide the mural behind a false wall, in the hopes it could be recovered and relocated at some future date.

In 2012, a small band of community volunteers, led by Aaron Goldberg, a local lawyer and descendent of Burlington’s earliest Jewish Lithuanian families, opened the false wall to check on the mural’s condition. The further deterioration of the mural persuaded the group that the time had come to embark on the costly and laborious process of working with architects, conservators and museum experts to safely relocate the mural.  Following an ambitious fundraising campaign has raised $325,000 to prepare and stabilize the mural, it is ready to be moved to a local synagogue, where it will be completely restored and puton view to the general public beginning in May 2015. The relocation and restoration are expected to cost an additional $300,000.

Close up of the mural's lions (Photo by Amanda Levinson).

Jews started as a nomadic people and aren’t always thought of as one the world’s great material cultures. The “Lost Shul Mural”-- its name now freighted with the melancholy of post-Holocaust diaspora--invites us to learn about cultural survival not only through the stories we hear from families, the ever-growing bookshelf of Holocaust histories, or through religious observance (which is declining in the United States), but also through the architecture and objects that embody Jewish history and Jewish values.  

Says Dr. Samuel Gruber, President of the International Survey of Jewish Monuments, “The Burlington mural is a treasure.  It is vivid and evocative. The colorful mural is by itself a unique work of synagogue art, but it also embodies a larger and mostly lost Jewish tradition of religious decorative painting.” For contemporary viewers, the Chai Adam mural is a vibrant and rare example of a once-prevalent folk art tradition that was destroyed, along with thousands of synagogues and millions of lives, during the Holocaust. It is also a potent symbol of the endurance of a people.

 Lost Shul Mural (Photo by Amanda Levinson).

Free Spirit Spheres (Photo by Kyle Greenberg on Flickr)

Over the years, a lot of children - and those young at heart - have tried their hand at making a treehouse, usually by dragging some scrap wood to a tree in the yard and balancing it precariously between some branches.  Perhaps they had some basic design knowledge to let them make it a little sturdier.  But we've found some treehouse makers worldwide who've taken the art to a whole new level.

FREE SPIRIT SPHERES,
Qualicum Beach, Canada 

Free Spirit Spheres (Photo by flossieteacake on Flickr)

Tucked away in the woods on Vancouver Island, engineer Tom Chudleigh runs the Free Spirit Spheres retreat, another treehouse-hotel. Unlike conventional treehouses, however, Chudleigh’s sphere-shaped houses are not perched on the branches of trees – they are between them, supported on a web of ropes woven between the nearest trees.

All the spheres at Chudleigh’s resort are of his own design, cleverly tucking table, chairs, kitchenette, and bed into a compact space – the smallest sphere is only nine feet in diameter. The two bigger spheres also have a built-in speaker system for guests who want to test the sphere’s acoustics. Currently there are only three spheres on site, but Chudleigh is seeking to expand.

THE KOROWAI AND KOMBAI PEOPLE
Papua New Guinea

Korowai Treehouse (Photo via Wikimedia Commons)

The Korowai and Kombai peoples live in southeast Papua New Guinea – in houses they build 40 feet up in the trees. The Korowai and Kombai took to the treetops to escape the mosquitos of the New Guinea jungle, and to protect themselves from occasional raids from neighboring headhunters. The treehouses are excellently designed – the floors on the bigger houses are strong enough to support a family of 12, plus a couple pigs; the ladder is intentionally unsteady enough to shake when someone's climbing, which alerts the people inside to their approach; and the cooking pit is on a separate platform that can be cut free if the fire gets out of control and threatens to burn the rest of the house.

Both the Korowai and Kombai were isolated from Westerners until the 1970s, and the Indonesian government has since been encouraging them to move into more conventional villages. However, the Korowai and Kombai still build treehouses as second homes to use during family gatherings or community feasts.

Korowai Treehouse (Photo by ♪ ~ on Flickr) 

REDWOODS TREEHOUSE RESTAURANT
Warkworth, New Zealand

Yellow Treehouse (photo by Cristian Eslava on Flickr)

The Redwoods' alternate name, the "Yellow Treehouse," hints at its origin. In 2008, New Zealand's Yellow Pages built the treehouse as an ad campaign to promote its own services; everything connected to the restaurant's launch, from the architect and the lumberyard who contributed the materials, to the web-design firm who created the restaurant's blog and the spokesmodel who appeared in its ads; all came from Yellow Page listings.

The delicately-shaped house - meant to resemble a butterfly's chrysalis - operated for a few months as a coffeehouse as part of Yellow's campaign. Today it is only open as a private events venue. 

Yellow Treehouse (photo by Cristian Eslava on Flickr)

ALNWICK GARDEN TREEHOUSE
Northumberland, United Kingdom

 Alnwick Garden House (Photo by Rob Glover on Flickr)

The historic gardens around Northumberland’s Alnwick Castle had been closed for decades until the Duchess of Northumberland decided to restore them in 1997. Alongside other new additions – such as a garden devoted to poisonous plants –  the Duchess commissioned local architecture firm Napper Architects to design a multi-story, multi-building treehouse, which serves as a restaurant for garden visitors. 

One of the world's biggest, Alnwick's treehouse spans multiple trees and boasts a main building with two towers, two side wings, two suspension bridges, and a ramp. The treehouse complex also boasts an outdoor deck, where garden docents often give classes and lectures, and the whole complex is often rented out for weddings and parties.

 
Alnwick Garden House (Photo by Eugene Regis on Flickr)

TREEHOTEL
Harads, Sweden 

The Mirror Room in the Treehotel (Photo by dan.nerd on Flickr)

Sweden’s Treehotel is exactly what it sounds like - a hotel where you can stay in a treehouse.  Hoteliers Britta and Kent were running a more conventional hostel in Harads, near the Artic Circle, when a 2008 documentary on treehouses inspired them to add a few of their own as potential rooms for guests.

But these aren’t just any treehouses. Britta and Kent enlisted top designers to create six different eye-popping structures – one treehouse is paneled in mirrored glass so it “disappears” into the surrounding woods; another resembles a giant bird's nest, and still another is designed to look like a flying saucer hovering in the trees. The complex even has a tree-top sauna, complete with hot tub.

Treehotel Birds Nest (Photo by Gitta Wilén on Flickr)

Treehotel UFO (Photo by Arvid Rudling on Flickr) 

FINCA BELLAVISTA
Costa Rica 

Finca Bellavista (Photo by James Lozeau for Finca Bellavista, used with permission)

Colorado expatriates Mateo and Erica started with just one treehouse in southern Costa Rica - but didn't stop there. They now oversee an entire intentional community where everyone lives in the trees.

The community welcomes visitors, putting them up in a series of guest houses ranging in size from a one-bedroom “jungalow” with a ground-level gazebo, to a two-story structure with a full, working kitchen and bathroom. Many guests just pass through, using the resort as a base camp to explore the hiking trails crisscrossing the property’s 600 acres; but a few come to stay, working with the community to design their own dwelling that fits in with the community's values. 

Residents and visitors share in produce from the community’s extensive gardens, and while guests explore on foot, residents can use the community’s zipline system to speed from one house to the next.

Finca Bellvista (Photo by Knut Amtenbrink for Finca Bellavista, used with permission)

Finca Bellavista (Photo by James Lozeau for Finca Bellavista, used with permission)

Finca Bellavista (Photo by Jeremy Papasso, for Finca Bellavista, used with permission) 

TEAHOUSE TETSU
Hokutu City, Japan

Teahouse Tetsu (Photo by Dana + LeRoy, via Flickr)

Terunobu Fujimori got his start as a historian specializing in modern Japanese architecture. He took up design in 1990, specializing in buildings that combine the "Western style" architecture of his study with a bit of whimsy; his designs have earned him a reputation as "the world's only surreal architect."

The tea house he designed for an art museum in Hokutu is a fanciful treehouse, set at the perfect height for gazing out at the museum's cherry blossoms.  

Tetsu Teahouse (photo by Dana + LeRoy, via Flickr)

THE TREEHOUSE GUYS
United States

Mt. Airy Treehouse (Photo by Greg Hume on Wikimedia Commons)

Conventionally-designed treehouses are a challenge for people with mobility impairments, but the Vermont-based "Treehouse Guys" are working to change that. Designers Chris Haake and James Roth specialize in universally-accessible treehouses. Their designs feature winding ramps instead of ladders, built with a gradual slope easy for wheelchair users to navigate, and tree platforms with greater stability in high winds.

In addition to treehouses for the famous Hole in The Wall Gang summer camps, their work can be seen in public parks throughout Vermont, as well as in Mount Airy Forest park in Cincinnati, the Citizens’ Park in Barrington, Illinois, and the Nay Aug Park in Scranton, Pennsylvania where their treehouse also offers stunning views into the Nay Aug gorge 150 feet below.   

Nay Aug Treehouse (Photo by Zak Zavada on Flickr)

THE HEMLOFT
Whistler, Canada

The Hemloft (Photo by Joel Allen, used with permission)

Joel Allen was already tiring of his software design job when his employer folded in 2006, so he took the chance to try something different. A chance encounter with a carpenter lead him to take up the craft himself, and after a couple of small projects for family and friends, Allen designed and built the Hemloft, a unique egg-shaped structure in a forest near Whistler. A bit short on funds, Allen constructed it almost entirely from parts he found scouring Craigslist.  Allen was so proud of his finished work that he created a website devoted to the project in 2011 and invited various housing design magazines to tour the site. There was just one problem – the Hemloft was built in a Canadian national park, and he didn’t exactly have permission to be there.

Allen eventually turned the structure over to the Canadian Wilderness Adventure company, entrusting them to find his creation a more legal home, but for now it remains in storage. 

The Hemloft (Photo by Joel Allen, used with permission)

Inside the Park Inn Hotel (photograph by Dan Hatton on Flickr)

Frank Lloyd Wright's buildings are prized, celebrated, and priceless works of architecture. While some Wright houses and buildings can be visited and toured, there are a few scattered across the United States that can also be rented. In these "Rent-A-Wrights" one can enjoy his design principles while cooking dinner, watching TV, doing laundry, or even drinking beer in a backyard created by one of the most gifted architects of the 20th century. The Frank Lloyd Wright Building Conservancy lists 14 Wright buildings that are available for overnight stays, with 12 of them having working websites with rates and other information.  While these buildings are all interesting in their own way, four of these have particularly unique stories.

THE DUNCAN HOUSE
Acme, Pennsylvania

One of Wright’s pre-fabricated designs, the Duncan House was originally built in 1957 in Lisle, Illinois, but was due to be demolished for a McMansion development. A Johnstown-area construction firm along with help from the Conservancy had the house dismantled, cataloged piece by piece, and reconstructed in western Pennsylvania. This house contains many hallmarks of Wright’s Usonian style, such as a carport instead of a garage, natural lighting, and the color Cherokee Red. The house also features a basement, which is rare in a Wright house.

The house is on the grounds of Polymath Park and Resort, along with three other houses designed by two of Wright’s apprentices, Peter Berndtson and John Rattenbury. Tours visit all of these houses, and the resort is within an hour’s driving distance of Wright’s masterpiece, Fallingwater, and the not-to-be-overlooked Kentuck Knob.

Parallel lines surround the Duncan House (photograph by the author)

Usonian houses had carports (photograph by Sara Hoffman on Flickr)

Most Wright houses do not have basements but the Duncan House does (photograph by the author)

THE INN AT PRICE TOWER
Bartlesville, Oklahoma

The only Wright-designed skyscraper constructed and recently nominated for becoming a UNESCO World Heritage Site, Wright said that the 19-story Price Tower was “the tree that escaped the crowded forest,” as it was built in a small city in the eastern Oklahoma prairie instead of its planned location in Manhattan, and the cantilevered floors not only radiate from a central shaft with the elevators, but are asymmetrical so that the tower looks different from each angle. The top floors of Price Tower were turned into an inn with 19 rooms in 2003, and the tower also contains an arts center and a restaurant.

The Price Tower (photograph by Jessica Lamirand on Flickr)

Inn at Price Tower Room (photograph by dennyschmickle on Flickr)

PARK INN HOTEL
Mason City, Iowa

Out of six hotels that Wright built, this is the last of his hotels that still stands. The prairie-style Park Inn Hotel is adjoined to one of two surviving Wright-designed bank buildings, namely the City National Bank. The hotel has 27 rooms available for rent. Park Inn was Wright’s prototype for the Imperial Hotel in Tokyo and the Midway Gardens entertainment facility in Chicago. The hotel was completely renovated and restored in 2011 for its centennial. 

Park Inn Hotel (photograph by elisabethdunbar on Flickr)

LOUIS PENFIELD HOUSE
Willoughby Hills, Ohio

Wright was fond of saying “Anybody over six feet tall (1.82 m) is a weed.” When the 6’ 8” tall (2 m) Louis Penfield asked Wright to design a house for him, Wright said “Yes, but we’ll have to design a machine to tip you sideways first.” Mr. Penfield’s stature led Wright to a different design of this house, one with very tall windows, doors and ceiling height compared to most other Usonians. Tours are not given, but up to five people can rent the entire house for a minimum of two nights for one rate.

Louis Penfield House (photograph by John Orlando on Flickr)

Tall Ribbon Windows (photograph by drsam on Flickr)

These are only some of the 14 Frank Lloyd Wright buildings for rent across the United States, which includes other Usonians, Prairie style houses, and even a ranch in the Bitterroot Mountains of Montana.

The Illinois Obscura Society of Atlas Obscura was created in partnership with Enjoy Illinois. Sign up to find out more about the back room tours, unusual adventures, and incredible parties that Atlas Obscura will be putting on in Chicago and greater Illinois. 

Last Friday the 13th, the Illinois Obscura Society hosted an event for 450 curious onlookers at the legendary Salvage One event space. Guests were treated to acts of contortion, mind reading, high-altitude juggling, spooky stories, and a brass band to bring it all together. In conjunction with Enjoy Illinois, the Illinois Obscura Society is born!

Michael Reyes poses with a brilliant costume for the evening's entertainment.

(All photography by Jamie Bernstein.) 

Salvage One is part antique shop, part event space, and all curious. Three floors chock full of architectural salvage, odd furniture, and pieces of Illinois' history surrounded us throughout the event. 

The space was divided into many different rooms, with small distractions everywhere. There were even simulated rides such as the mesmerizing HypnoDrome and an historical spook-house created by the Pocket Guide to Hell.

Items introduced at the Columbian Exposition of 1893 were on display, along with an original souvenir photo book.

Not one, but two bars provided refreshment, most of it from Illinois, including locally sourced wines, beers and cocktails from Frankfort Spirits.

Many unique nooks and crannies welcomed our guests, including these barber chairs surrounded by vintage records and salvaged signage.

Guests enjoying Illinois microbrews.

Would you put your life in our hands?

Field agents Rachel and Charles helped those brave enough down onto our bed of nails. Many of those who tried actually survived!

Thom Britton wowed the crowd by performing seemingly impossible feats. But this wasn't magic: it was all real. Thom Britton's FreakShow & Tell explains the science of the side show, and how you too can do the things he does. 

This is NOT magic. This is real.


Eat the fire.

Thom has nearly 100,000 volts going through his body; enough to light this lightbulb.

The audience looked on in rapture. Some of them were also silent, and seemed to have trouble with invisible walls. 

We are a mime-tolerant society.

Chuck Carter braved heights as he juggled wherever there was a hole in the crowd.

While Thom believes everyone can do the things he does, some us may not be physically equipped to perform the feats of contortion we witnessed.

Contortions are just one of the many skills taught at the Actor's Gymnasium.

Some secrets were personal. Mentalist Jonny Zavant wowed the crowd with his numerical predictions throughout the night.

"You'll meet a tall, dark stranger."

Atlas Obscura Co-Founder Dylan Thuras

Keeping things lively were Chicago's own Black Bear Combo, who entertained guests with raucous renditions and at one point a march around the venue.

 No amplification needed.

This is only the beginning. The Illinois Obscura Society has arrived, and the expeditions have begun. The Prairie State is anything but plain, and we'll help you explore every last bit of it.

The Illinois Obscura Society of Atlas Obscura was created in partnership with Enjoy Illinois. Sign up to find out more about the back room tours, unusual adventures, and incredible parties that Atlas Obscura will be putting on in Chicago and greater Illinois. 

Acorn (Photo by Manuel QC on Flickr)

“Outside the DMV I see these Mediterranean oaks or holly oaks just dumping acorns,” Joel Robinson tells me. “Dried perfectly. So, I’m in the parking lot stuffing my pockets full.”

Robinson is the director and head naturalist of Naturalist For You, based in Southern California, and he’s no stranger to acorn collecting. “It’s one of the most nutritious foods” he continues. “As they lose moisture, the nut shrinks, detaches from its shell, and kills weevils. You can shell it with a rock. The nuts are the size of an almond or bigger which you then pound into a meal and soak in clean cold water for at least a half hour to leech out the tannic acid.”

Acorn shelling with a group of friends is preferable. Robinson continues, “Community is the driving force at this point. If we can all see that we are one giant organized community, then we can all understand how the ecosystem works-- we can learn how to live in a harmonious way.”

So, how frequently does he return to the DMV for those acorns?

DMV (Photo by Coolmikcol on Flickr)

Not often. Robinson laughs, “I’m only at the DMV if I have to be there.” He’s always scanning spots, emphasizing a common ideology among naturalists: only take what you need, always leave something behind. It’s not about quantity. “Besides,” he continues, “Oaks don’t produce all the time.”

Henry David Thoreau once wrote, “What you get by achieving your goals is not as important as what you become by achieving your goals.” Robinson’s relationship with foraging feels similar. The intention is not only about finding food in pushed aside places, but living, or re-learning how to live collectively with one another in our natural state, especially if our environment is less like Walden Pond and more like a bustling city or suburb. Forager Scott Dantzler reflects: “It is amazing how close the wild opportunity is to most of us and how invisible it remains.”

Knotweed (Photo by Loopzilla on Flickr)

David Craft, in his book Urban Foraging, discovers a batch of Japanese knotweed breaking through pavement in an abandoned Boston lot. Most might consider this ubiquitous plant an invasive eye-sore, but Craft disagrees, shedding history on the topic. In the 1800s, Frederick Law Olmsted incorporated this “kudzu of the north” ornamentally into the design of Boston’s Emerald Necklace and New York’s Central Park; however, its ability to thrive-- growing sometimes six inches a day-- and wildly erupt from “sidewalk cracks” or “median strips” deters its use today. In fact, its unruly proliferation actually prompts eradication. Therefore, Craft sees knotweed harvesting as a playful community service, a creative and nourishing win-win for both cities and humans.

“Knotweed"  (Photo by David Craft, Used with Permission) 

Foraging is about altering our perception-- adapting to our environment and rethinking excess or access. Craft suggests, unconventional places to forage can be as conventional as your own front stoop.

Christmas Tree (Photo by julio.garciah on Flickr)

Recently Craft “grabbed branches from some discarded Christmas trees in the neighborhood and steeped them in vodka for a ‘Christmas Tree Schnapps.’”

Cemetery (Photo by Geograph.org, Used with Permission)

Craft adds, “Big, nice cemeteries are sometimes good spots since they usually have a large compost type section where discarded plants from graves are tossed. Compost areas are great for a variety of weeds in high quality soils. I also found a bunch of oyster mushrooms on a log in cemetery outskirts once.”

Unearthing the commonly overlooked is a running thread. 

Foreclosure (Photo by andrewbain on Flickr)

In 2011, Kelly Callahan foraged for figs on foreclosed bank-owned properties, intending to jam and donate the bulk. Strengthening that sentiment, nonprofits such as Concrete Jungle encourage people to gather, pick, and directly connect those in need to salvaged bounties or bridge the gap between the haves and have-nots.

According to Joel Robinson, first and foremost, foraging is about education: striving to twist peculiar gathering techniques into something more customary by working together and “building consciousness.” As far as inspiration goes, he suggests one look no further than Ron Finley, who states, “To change the community, you have to change the composition of the soil, and we are the soil.”

Ron Finley at TedX from TedX video

Finley built a mini-urban forest smack dab in the middle of South Central on “unutilized open space” and from there his gospel grew. This South Los Angeles resident sees gardening as an outsider art comparable to graffiti. In a TEDX talk, Finley explains, “I use the garden, the soil, like its a piece of cloth, and the plants and the trees-- that’s my embellishments for that cloth . . . You’d be surprised . . . You just can’t imagine how amazing a sunflower is and how it affects people.”

Beacon photo video still from Vimeo

In line with Finley’s thinking, Beacon Food Forest in Seattle covers seven acres of public land, and just might be the country’s biggest intentional foraging spot open to all. Based in Beacon Hill, the surrounding community is diverse, and access to local, affordable, organic food has previously been rare. Such projects are changing not only how we see foraging, but also how we see cities and city owned land.

Joel_Robinson (Photo via Joel Robinson, Used with Permission)

Nature is not just one thing. Nature is everything. This is Joel Robinson's perspective. As it turns out, he is not alone. Like Thoreau, we “need the tonic of wildness,” but we don’t always need it in isolation. We need more integration-- to work with what we have, in collaboration with the arms of a city, its forgotten open space, and ambitious surrounding community. This thinking is where the word “unconventional,” at its finest, finds a new beat.

A New England wolf tree: White oak (photograph by Ray Asselin via his "Timberturner + Bowlwood Woodturning" blog, used with permission)

Old trees resonate with us because they seem to bridge our own animal-time and the other, slower schedules of the planet. While the antiquity of the most aged bristlecone pine, even the most aged quaking-aspen root mass (all praise the Trembling Giant!), doesn’t approach the deep time of stone, trees certainly link us to the mysterious clock of climate. We preoccupy ourselves with the day-to-day action of the weather; they’ve staked their survival on the bigger-picture rhythms of the atmosphere. Great trees are the go-betweens from the realm of flesh-and-blood to those of sky and rock. They’re also aloof witnesses to the frantic escapades of the human race—one reason that they can be such tangible touchstones for our own personal and social histories, and why the injury or death of a familiar old one can be so unsettling.

We commonly call ancient trees persisting in a landscape that’s dramatically changed within their lifespan “legacy trees.” In the Northeast, meanwhile, there's a special brand of legacy tree found scattered in that region's dramatically regrown forests: the “wolf tree.” In the strictest sense, wolf trees are those spared the axe during widespread Colonial-era deforestation in order to provide shade for livestock or mark a boundary. As second- and third-growth woods filled in abandoned pasture and farmland, these titans have become crowded by dense, spindly youngsters. Where those upstarts are tall and narrow, competing fiercely for canopy light, the wolf tree they surround has fat, laterally extended boughs and a comparatively squat trunk—a testament to the open, sunny country in which it once prospered.

Why “wolf?” Most suggest it stems from foresters comparing these ponderous relics to rapacious predators sapping sunlight and nutrients from the more economical (and less eccentric) timber swamping them. In Reading the Forested Landscape - which interprets New England’s countryside with historical ecology - Tom Wessels associates the name with lone wolves, outlaws in the face of civilization. (17) Regardless, the term is a good one: These trees, full of wildness, are as stirring to come upon as a fresh paw-print in the snow.

Wolf maple in a red-pine plantation, Vermont (photo by David W. Haas, NPS/via Wikimedia Commons)

In his book, Wessels advocates the alternate moniker “pasture tree,” which does describe the history of many of these Northeastern wolf trees. While an 18^th or 19^th century farmer might completely clearcut a fertile valley to plant crops or grow hay, large tracts of the region’s rolling uplands—ridden with glacially deposited stones and boulders—were more roughly "improved" for grazing acreage. This logged-over landscape, called “bushpasture,” often featured big, solitary trees retained to shelter flocks and herds. (16) While any suitably large tree might be chosen, oaks figure prominently among New England’s wolf trees—unsurprising, given how widespread oak (and oak-chestnut) woodlands were in the stony hills and plateaus commonly converted to livestock range.

Touring upstate New York in the 1840s, the British writer Frederick Marryat marveled at the fast clip at which pioneers were felling the woods and documented the process by which future wolf trees were born (12):

"Occasionally some solitary tree is left standing, throwing its wide arms, and appearing as if in lamentation at its separation from its companions, with whom for centuries it had been in close fellowship."

In the second half of the 19^th century, many farms began to be abandoned, and post-agricultural forest regrowth began across large swaths of the Northeast. As Robert Thorson writes in Stone by Stone, a history of the region’s stone walls (16):

"Trees sprouted in old pastures like whiskers left uncut, enveloping their bordering stone walls in shade. Beginning about 1870, the forest area began to double every 20 years or so." 

To illustrate: Seventy-six percent of Worcester County in Massachusetts was in cultivation or pasture in 1876; roughly a century later, such open ground occupied just thirteen percent. (8)

An eastern white pine in Wisconsin, exhibiting the multi-trunked form shared by many of New England's old-field pines

In central New England, many old, open-grown eastern white pines represent second-generation wolf trees, dating from the early years of widespread farm abandonment in the region. As a sun-loving pioneer tree that can produce voluminous seed crops, white pine was well poised to invade the feral meadows (alongside other opportunistic species such as eastern red-cedar and common juniper). These old-field pines nourished a thrumming timber industry in the first decades of the 20^th century. This harvest turned out mostly to be a one-time shot: Because they languish in shade, there weren’t pine saplings waiting in the understory to replace the mature trees felled, and furthermore, pines don’t sprout after cutting. So it was primarily hardwoods—red oak, black birch, white ash, and others—that took over once the big pines were logged, and it’s those broadleaf trees that now blanket much of the region. Enough wolf pines remain to speak to the post-agricultural old-field phase the landscape tried out for awhile. Many brandish multiple trunks, making them look like giant upturned tarantulas. And many, overtopped by the hardwoods, have been dead for years and stand as barren snags. (8,18)

Indeed, wolf trees of all stripes tend to be deteriorating, given the crowding and shading that now define them. Their heavy, wide-spreading limbs, nourished once by full sun, are now light-starved and too energetically costly to maintain. (For more insight into the region's landscape changes, check out the online version of a classic, much-celebrated series of dioramas depicting a generalized history of central New England’s forests, housed at the Fisher Museum at the Harvard Forest.)

New England white-oak wolf tree and stone wall (photograph by Ray Asselin via his "Timberturner + Bowlwood Woodturning" blog, used with permission)

Plenty of phantoms mill about around wolf trees. Take a 350-year-old white oak in New England, snaking its dying branches through doghair maples and hemlocks. It summons up a whole gang of ghosts, and not just those of cattle or sheep or axe-wielding woodchoppers taking a breather under its canopy—older ones yet. There’s the ghost of lightning- and (especially) Indian-sparked fire, a force that, as in so many areas, helped maintain oak, intolerant of shade and slow-growing, amid a landscape capable of growing dense mixed-hardwood forest. Observers of the pre-colonial oak-chestnut woodlands of Northeastern uplands often commented on their remarkable openness, noting you “might drive a four-horse chariot in the midst of the trees.” (1)

Another phenomenon besides fire, an avian one, may have been just as important in keeping white oaks around in New England. Passenger pigeons, once by far the most numerous bird on the continent (and maybe the planet), favored the acorns of red oaks over white, and existed in great-enough numbers to perhaps suppress the former to the benefit of the latter. (4) Furthermore, flocks of pigeons could be so enormous that the trees they roosted in sometimes collapsed under their weight. Such treefall would allow sunlight into an otherwise closed forest, providing good conditions for a seedling oak unable to survive in heavy shade.

The vanished passenger pigeon is intimately connected to oaks in the Midwest and the East (from The New Student's Reference Work, v. 3, 1914, p. 1489/via Wikimedia Commons)

Like free-roaming ground fires, the pigeons are gone, but the old oak (on which the birds may have once congregated) conjures their spirit all the same. Surrendering our imaginations fully to flights of space-time, we might even sense in its presence the closing centuries of the Pleistocene, when blue jays and other acorn-eaters hastened the migration of this white oak’s ancestors northward from Ice Age strongholds in the Southeast. Oaks reclaimed the Northeast some 10,000 years ago as a warming, drying climate, which had already chased the continental ice sheet poleward, edged out boreal-style spruce forest. (1) Seen at the proper scale, trees travel: retreating as conditions adverse to their growth set in, advancing where their optimal habitat develops. And the thronging that wolf trees now endure reminds us of the quiet battles plants wage upon each other; of the dynamic, fluid nature of ecosystems; and of the dual role of the human being as animal within those ecosystems and as a force of disturbance upon them.

In September 1841, while traveling south through the haze-filled Rogue River Valley, members of the United States Exploring Expedition encountered an elderly Indian woman, intently “blowing a brand to set fire to the woods.” The small detachment of Navy officers and their associates had struggled during previous days over mountains covered by charred vegetation and through canyons filled with smoke, the result of native-set fires. Expedition artist Titian Ramsay Peale described the woman—who was dressed in a “mantle of antelope or deer skin” and wore a “cup-shaped” basketry cap—as “so busy setting fire to the prairie and mountain ravines that she seemed to disregard us.”

                                                                                  —Jeff LaLande & Reg Pullen (from Indians, Fire and the Land)

While the wolf trees of the Northeast may tell a fairly specific story of Euro-American land use, others exist in many other places—that is, if we consider a wolf tree as any open-grown stalwart now mobbed by younger woods. They’re particularly common wherever fire suppression (and, in some cases, the cessation of grazing) has converted savanna to forest. Find them, say, in such far-flung regions as the Midwest, the Cross Timbers, the Intermountain West, and the Mediterranean-climate valleys of the West Coast.

Like their counterparts in the New England uplands, Indians in Oregon's Willamette Valley, such as the Kalapuya, burned prairies and oak savannas yearly. Here, the fire season was late summer and early autumn, before the fall rains commenced. These burns sometimes confounded Euro-American travelers, who were hard-pressed to find forage for their horses amid great sweeps of charred countryside. Nonetheless, settlers did notice the surging green-up of prairie grasses on the heels of these Indian fires, and celebrated the beauty of the flame-managed Garry-oak groves, which, in 1847, the pioneer Joel Palmer said appeared “like old orchards” from afar. (2)

Garry-oak savanna, central Willamette Valley

As the anthropologist Robert Boyd has noted, the Kalapuya and other Western Oregon Indians apparently burned lowland valleys for a variety of reasons. The fires both improved their ability to locate deer and elk and enhanced the local habitat for these ungulates by promoting a lush growth of grass. Furthermore, aboriginal cultures here and in a number of other regions in the Far West implemented an autumn “circle deer hunt,” during which flames were used to flush and funnel game. In the Willamette Valley, Indians also used burning to improve the harvest of foods such as tarweed, hazelnuts, acorns, berries, camas, bracken, and grasshoppers, and they cultivated tobacco in ash beds. (2)

With the ebb of traditional Indian lifeways in the valley beginning in the mid-1800s, fire ceased to be an important landscape-sculpting force. Without regular burns or analogous disturbance, the Willamette appears to convert to forest, as evidenced by the steady invasion of old, airy oak stands by Douglas-firs, grand firs, and bigleaf maples. Douglas-firs, which are shade-intolerant, can colonize a sun-dappled oak savanna but, if other trees start growing up beneath them, will be ultimately unable to reproduce. Thus today, many a deep wood on the Willamette Valley floor has multiple cohorts of wolf trees: dead or waning old-growth oaks mixed with huge, wild-armed Douglas-firs that first seized the dying oak savanna—and both now thronged by younger trees.

Garry-oak wolf tree, Sauvie Island

Some Indians regarded Euro-American fire suppression in western Oregon’s valleys quizzically. As LaLande and Pullen write in their account of aboriginal burning in the southwestern part of the state (in Indians, Fire and the Land), “The change moved one Klamath man to complain to ethnographer Omer Stewart that ‘[n]ow I just hear the deer running through the brush at places we used to kill many deer.’ He pointed out that when the brush ‘got as thick as it is now, we would burn it off.’” (9)

I grew up blocks from an overgrown southeastern Wisconsin oak opening: Downer Woods, an 11-acre forest on the grounds of the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee. Its grandest trees are scattered Halloween oaks—white, red, and bur—that wolfishly hark back to a bygone landscape. Evidence suggests these hoary, twisted monarchs seeded back in the mid-to-late 1700s in an Indian-burned landscape. By the 1830s, the oaks—which likely escaped harvest due to their uncommercial form—presided over pasture for decades. Once the land became a college campus, no longer swept clear either by fire or rubbery-lipped grazers, trees and shrubs invaded the former parkland. (14) Today, ashes and basswoods form a closed-canopy wood studded by those monumental wolf oaks.

The wolf oaks of Downer Woods, University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee campus

Just as a wolf tree is marooned in heavy woods, many other legacy trees stand out for their isolation in drastically altered environments. In the Pacific Northwest, some record-sized conifers tower, spared and orphaned, in vast clearcuts (where they’re almost certainly doomed to topple in wind): Consider Big Lonely Doug on Vancouver Island, for example, recently deemed the second-biggest Douglas-fir in Canada. And there's the Lone (or Sentinel) Cypress, a huge old-growth bald-cypress that once served as a navigation marker on the marshy shores of Lake Okeechobee and today stands in the town of Moore Haven, the lake (diminished in extent by water-control measures) now several miles away.

Cousin to the old pasture trees of New England are the centuries-old oaks, beeches, yews, and other veterans of (old) England’s “greenwood.” These behemoth ancients also register the hand of humans upon the countryside: Many reflect years of pollarding or coppicing (the repeated cutting of a trunk to keep harvesting young, straight-growing wood from the same tree), and grow in woodlands once intensely pastured or royal forests preserved as exclusive hunting retreats. Some are truly celebrated monuments in Britain, including the Major Oak of Sherwood Forest (in folklore, the shelter of Robin Hood and his Merry Men) and the many sylvan elders of the Savernake Forest, such as the Big Belly Oak and the King of Limbs.

 The Big Belly Oak of Savernake Forest (photo by Jim Champion/via Wikimedia Commons)

As in the Northeast, these trees can starkly reference our own history, our own touch upon the landscape. But the temporal power of the legacy tree extends beyond its reminders of historical time—that of farmers, shepherds, hangings, and crossroads. It also displays in lonely solitude the majestically drawn-out aging and dying and decay process that any tree showcases if let alone. In these processes, it evokes what Jay Griffiths has termed “wild time” (7): that primal dimension enfolding rock, air, water, wood, and flesh against which the frenetic and neurotic human clock struggles, ultimately in vain.

“The wolf trees are a forest anachronism—old-growth features in a young forest,” Michael Gaige, a New York-based conservation biologist with a passion for "wolves," has written. (5) Essentially they inject a little old-growth flavor into second-growth woods. They exhibit some classic characteristics of ancient trees, architectural features common across many species. These include heavily plated or flaky bark; patches of bald wood on the lower bole; a spiral grain and/or sinuous wave to the trunk; swollen bases or exposed, buttressed roots; collared clefts and cavities; and a canopy composed of relatively few, heavy, twisted branches. And many trees—notably conifers, but also oaks and some other hardwoods—often display a jagged, multi-pronged deadwood crown: a “staghead” or “spiketop” tree. (11,15,18) These structural and textural features arise from the aging cycle, interactions with neighboring trees, and the tattoos and war wounds a long-lived tree accumulates from its environment.

Sugar-maple wolf tree snag (photograph by Ray Asselin via his "Timberturner + Bowlwood Woodturning" blog, used with permission)

With their great mass and their knotty, fissured surface, wolf trees call to many creatures (flying squirrels, woodpeckers, etc.) in ways that comparatively prim, proper, and structurally simple young trees don’t. Studies—from the New England woods to a commercially cut coast-redwood forest in Mendocino County, California—suggest wolf trees and other old-growth relics support greater wildlife diversity and use than the sprightlier trees around them. (10) In Vermont, Gaige noted mammals as big as coyotes denning in wolf trees. (6) (Any big tree can be a wildlife beacon: A study in the Willamette Valley showed the importance to birds of standalone old-growth Garry oaks in farmfields and pasture. [3] The island-like habitat formed by such open-country trees is similar to that of wolf trees, adrift as they are in second- or third-growth of strikingly different stature.)

The ecological services a wolf tree provides aren’t confined to its lifespan. Dead trees—particularly big ones that rot over length periods, like American chestnut in the East and western red-cedar in the Northwest, or a conifer flash-killed by fire and left as a slow-decaying snag—continue to offer habitat and forage for countless organisms, from wood-processing fungi to nesting raptors, on a scale of decades or centuries.  

Ponderosa-pine snag, east-side Cascade Range, Oregon

Toppled wolf oak (photograph by Ray Asselin via his "Timberturner + Bowlwood Woodturning" blog, used with permission)

Legacy trees suggest the multiple identities of a given landscape. The tombstone snags of widely spaced ponderosa pines looming in a thick, post-fire-suppression wood of fir and larch on the eastern slopes of the Cascade Range describe a spectral savanna with a contemporary conifer forest superimposed upon it. The wolf oaks of New England echo pre-Columbian fire- and pigeon-tended woodlands as well as erstwhile colonial bushpasture. So wolf-tree country is overgrown rangeland, overgrown savanna—but also just a new kind of modern-day forest, too, a dense, dark one sprinkled with the occasional noble hulk to lock you right into time, and to take you right out of it.

Bush Pasture Park, Salem, Oregon: Oak savanna-->Pasture-->City park (open-grown Garry oaks intact)

References

1. Bonnicksen, Thomas M. America’s Ancient Forests: From the Ice Age to the Age of Discovery. New York: John Wiley & Sons, Inc., 2000.
2. Boyd, Robert. “Strategies of Indian Burning in the Willamette Valley.” Indians, Fire and the Land in the Pacific Northwest. Ed. Robert Boyd. Corvallis, OR: Oregon State University Press, 1999. 94-138.
3. DeMars, Craig, et al. "Multi-scale Factors Affecting Bird Use of Isolated Remnant Oak Trees in Agro-ecosystems." Biological Conservation 143 (2010): 1486-1492.
4. Ellsworth, Joshua W. and Brenda C. McComb. “Potential Effects of Passenger Pigeon Flocks on the Structure and Composition of Presettlement Forests of Eastern North America.” Conservation Biology 17 (2003): 1548-1558.
5. Gaige, Michael. “A Place for Wolf Trees.” Northern Woodlands Spring 2011.
6. Gaige, Michael. “Wolf Trees: Elders of the Eastern Forest.” American Forests Fall 2014.
7. Griffiths, Jay. A Sideways Look at Time. New York: Jeremy P. Tarcher, 2004.
8. Jorgensen, Neil. A Sierra Club Naturalist’s Guide to Southern New England. San Francisco: Sierra Club Books, 1978.
9. LaLande, Jeff and Reg Pullen. "Burning for a 'Fine and Beautiful Open Country': Native Uses of Fire in Southwestern Oregon." Indians, Fire and the Land in the Pacific Northwest. Ed. Robert Boyd. Corvallis, OR: Oregon State University Press, 1999. 255-276.
10. Mazurek, M.J. and William J. Zielinski. “The Importance of the Individual Legacy Old-growth Tree in the Maintenance of Biodiversity in Commercial Redwood Forests.” U.S. Forest Service Pacific Southwest Research Station Report, 2003.
11. Pederson, Neil. “External Characteristics of Old Trees in the Eastern Deciduous Forest.” Natural Areas Journal 30: 396-407.
12. Perlin, John. A Forest Journey: The Role of Wood in the Development of Civilization. New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 1989.
13. Perry, David A., Ram Oren, and Stephen C. Hart. Forest Ecosystems. 2^nd ed. Baltimore: The John Hopkins University Press, 2008.
14. Salamun, Peter J. “A Botanical History of Downer Woods.” The University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee Field Stations Bulletin 5.2 (1972): 1-9.
15. Stahle, David W. “Tree Rings and Ancient Forest History.” Eastern Old-Growth Forests: Prospects for Rediscovery and Recovery. Ed. Mary Byrd Davis. Washington, D.C.: Island Press, 1996. 321-343.
16. Thorson, Robert. Stone by Stone: The Magnificent History of New England’s Stone Walls. New York: Walker & Company, 2002.
17. Wessels, Tom. Reading the Forested Landscape: A Natural History of New England. Woodstock, VT: The Countryman Press, 1997.
18. Wessels, Tom. Forest Forensics: A Field Guide to Reading the Forested Landscape. Woodstock, VT: The Countryman Press, 2010.

The barn quilt called “Pinwheel Square” on the Amish Loop, just outside the town of Washington. (Photograph by Christopher Busch)

As physical objects, barn quilts are very simple. A barn owner or homeowner paints a large piece of wood to look like a quilt square—bold, basic geometric shapes--and then mounts it on a building, facing a road. Sometimes the painted squares are modeled after those on family heirloom quilts. Sometimes they’re new patterns or pictures. Thanks to the rise of barn quilt trails, these decorations have become one of the most surprising, and delightful, pleasures of driving through rural America.

 
The square called “Lotus Flower” on the Amish Loop. According to Barn Quilts of Washington, local Amish do not hang barn quilts on their barns, but the squares on the Amish Loop feature patterns and colors traditional to Amish quilting. (Photo by Christopher Busch)

The first official barn quilt trail stretches through Adams County, Ohio and dates to 2001, when Donna Sue Groves decided to honor her mother and attract visitors to her hometown by initiating the creation of 20 barn quilt squares, the number her mother would stitch into a typical bed quilt. In the years since, a “National Clothesline of Quilts” has sprung up in across the country, stretching into 45 states and Canada. In 2012, Groves partnered with Suzi Parron to publish Barn Quilts and the American Quilt Trail Movement.

I’ve been particularly captivated by the quilts of Washington County, a 571-square-mile swatch of southeastern Iowa farmland. Active since 2007, the organization called Barn Quilts of Washington County has overseen development of more than 120 quilts, which are hung only on barns at least 50 years old and facing paved roads. Like the original Adams County quilters, Washington County’s barn quilters see their work as integral to both community building and to drawing tourists off the interstates and into the local economy.  

Like this “windmill” pattern, most barn quilt squares are composed of simple, bold shapes that can be seen easily from the road. (Photo by Christopher Busch)

In Washington County, an advisory committee selects quilt block designs, reaches out to barn owners, and publicizes the quilts. They also post handy maps and a pamphlet on their website, both of which I printed on a 10-degree January weekend and carried with me on the 40 minute drive from my home in Iowa City.

The barn quilts are arranged in four loops, each with a name that announces a theme informing color and pattern selection: the “Agricultural Loop,” the “Amish Loop,” the “Liberty Loop,” and the “Nature Loop.” I cut across an unpaved road and took the loops in parts, catching barn quilts along the both the Agricultural Loop and the Amish Loops and in the town of Washington itself.

 
Within the town of Washington, Iowa, barn quilts are mounted on the sides of houses and garages. (Photo by Christopher Busch)

The maps make it easy to plug addresses into smartphones and conduct a targeted hunt, but real fun lies in roaming hills and just spotting quilts from the road. The roads between the quilts offer discoveries of their own: an agri-themed playground outside an old brick schoolhouse or a mysterious pile of frozen pig carcasses.

Washington County’s barn quilts celebrate the quilt-making traditions of local communities. They unite service groups, families, volunteers, and residents in planning, hanging, and repairing quilts. They draw attention to aging historic buildings, fostering support for preservation. They draw people like me into town, to spend money on lunch in little Washington restaurants or on beer at the Kalona Brewery. But most significantly, the barn quilts look good against summer’s green cornstalks. Even in January, they serve as bright reminders of lives inside the rural homes dotting the cropland, stretching quietly for white winter miles.

This Keota, Iowa farm features the quilt pattern called “Turkey in the Straw.” (Photo by Christopher Busch) 

When you think about the famous stones of Great Britain and Ireland, you probably envision Stonehenge, or maybe, if you're less literal-minded, the Rolling Stones. But there are plenty of other famous stones in Great Britain and Ireland, some of which are as old as Stonehenge (and none of which are as old as Mick Jagger).

The Blarney Stone, of Blarney Castle (near Cork), in Ireland, is a huge draw for tourists. The stone is built into the walls of the castle, and, according to legend, is capable of granting visitors the gift of the gab, or eloquence, in exchange for a kiss. It's not so easy to kiss, however. Firstly, you must climb to the top of the castle's battlements, and then, while being held by an assistant, bend over backwards and kiss the underside of the wall. When I visited the Blarney Castle, locals told stories of their youth, when they would help tourists kiss the stone during the day, and then urinate on it at night.

Pucker up.

Kissing the stone in 1897, before the safeguards were installed. (Image from The National Library of Ireland, via Wikipedia.)

On the road from Blarney to Waterford (home of the famous crystal), you can drive passed the town of Dungarven, and from there stop at the Answering Stone, or Cloch Labhrais. The stone is a boulder, split in roughly in half, and, according to legend, can tell whether a speaker is lying. According to the myth, a man once suspected his young wife of an illicit affair, and took her to the stone to find out for certain. Through trickery, however, the wife managed to answer the question, but the stone was so disgusted by the deceit that it split in two.

Still in Ireland, how about the Lia Fáil, the coronation stone for the High Kings of Ireland, until around 500 CE. Just north of Dublin, the Stone of Tara is said to have been the site of the coronations of all the Irish High Kings. According to the Lebor Gabala (a text dating to the 11^th century), the stone was brought to Ireland by the Tuatha Dé Danann, a semi-divine race who predate human occupation of the island of Eire. According to the Scots, however, the actual Lia Fáil was taken to Scotland for the coronation of Fergus the Great (who died soon aftwards). The stone is said to cry out or roar with joy when the rightful king set his feet upon it, and is also said to hold to power to both regenerate the king, and to grant him a long reign. Cúchulainn, a mythical Irish king, was said to have split the stone when it refused to acknowledge his heir. The Lia Fáil has been vandalised twice in recent times, once in 2012, and again in 2014.

Tara. (image by Germán Póo-Caamaño, via Wikipedia.)

We're going to cheat slightly, for continuity's sake, and travel to The Giant's Causeway before we head across the Irish Sea and into Great Britain proper. Around 40,000 connected basalt columns make up the Giant's Causeway (or Clochán an Aifir in Irish). According to Irish myth, the coloumns are all that remain of a causeway built by Finn mac Cumhaill (known as Finn MacCool). Finn was challenged to a fight, by a Scottish giant by the name of Benandonner. There are two different versions of the ending of their fight. In the first, Finn defeats his Scottish opponent. In the other, Finn sees that his opponent is much bigger than he is and so begs his wife, Oonagh, to disguise him as a baby. When Benandonner sees the size of Finn's baby, he believes that Finn must be huge, and flees. Across the Irish Sea, at Fingal's Cave on the Scottish island of Staffa, there are similar basalt columns (which occurred because of the same volcanic eruption, around 60 million years ago), which is believed to be the origin of the story.

The Giant's Boot (Image by Sean McClean, via Wikipedia).

Giant's Causeway at sunset  (Image by Chmee2, via Wikipedia

Basalt columns inside Fingal's Cave (Image by Stockholm, via Wikipedia).

In Scotland, an unassuming block of red sandstone was used for centuries as the coronation stone for the kings of Scotland: the Stone of Destiny, or the Stone of Scone. Originally kept at the Scone Abbey, in Scone, the stone is also known as the An Lia Fáil, Jacob's Pillow Stone, and the Tanist Stone. Legends date the stone to Biblical times, as the pillow-stone of Jacob, the Israelite patriarch. The Stone of Scone was taken from Scotland by Edward I (also known as Edward Longshanks, or Edward, the Hammer of the Scots) in 1296, as spoils of war, and was fitted into a wooden chair. This wooden chair is the coronation throne of England, and most English monarchs since 1296 have been crowned upon it. There is a conspiracy that surrounds the Stone of Scone, however, positing that the monks of Scone hid the real stone, and that the English troops took the wrong stone home.

The Stone of Scone in the Coronation Chair at Westminster Abbey, 1855. (Image by an unknown engraver).

Although Edward II agreed, in 1328, to return the Stone, rioting crowds surrounded Westminster Abbey, and the stone remained at the Abbey until 1950. In 1950, four Scottish students removed the Stone, as part of a plan to relocate it to Scotland. The Stone broke in half, and the men enlisted a new conspirator, a Scottish Nationalist, who, by a twist of fate, was a descendant of Edward, the Hammer of Scots. All of Great Britain searched for the Stone, which was eventually repaired, then left on the altar of Arbroath Abbey. Four months later, it was returned to Westminster. It eventually came back to Scotland on St Andrew's Day (the 30^th of November) in 1996. It now sits in Edinburgh Castle.

Replica of the Stone of Scone at Scone Palace (Image by sarniebill1, via Wikipedia).

 Further south, in Netpool, Wales, sits the Carreg y Fendith, or the Blessing Stone. This stone is traditionally referred to as the stone from which the Abbot of St Dogamaels Abbey blessed the village's fishing fleet. It is also known locally as the Answering Stone, as, if you stand on the stone and yell, your echo answers you.

Carreg y Fendith--the Answering Stone (Image by ceridwen, via Wikipedia).

In London there is the mysterious London Stone, which sits behind a stone grill in the City of London. The actual purpose of the Stone is unknown, but its recorded history dates back to 1100 CE. At different times, it has been called a Roman milliarium, or distance marker; a terminus, or stone sacred to Jupiter; or a part of a Roman administrative building. In the 18^th Century, the London Stone was considered to be prehistoric, and an object of Druidic worship. This idea doesn't hold much water with modern archaeologists. More recently the Stone has been proposed as the stone from which Excalibur was drawn.

London Stone, seen through its protective grille (Image by Voyager, via Wikipedia).

 Southwest face of Heel Stone (Image by Garry W Denke, via Wikipedia).

The Heel Stone is usually considered part of the Stonehenge complex: It stands almost 80 metres from the center of Stonehenge. Legend states that the Devil threw a stone at a friar, and hit him in the heel. Some suggest that the name actually comes from Freyja's He-ol, or Freyja (the Norse goddess)'s way. 

Further south, at Totnes, a town on the River Dart, is a stone that claims to be where Trojans landed and founded Britain. Allegedly, Brutus of Troy, the mythical founder, first came ashore and proclaimed: "Here I stand and here I rest."

The stone sits high above the tideline, and, although Geoffrey of Monmouth mentions Totnes as the landing site of the Trojans in 1136, the stone was not referred to until 1697. To complicate matters, the stone could have been the stone from which the town crier (or bruiter) called out his news, or it could have been le Brodestone, a boundary stone mentioned several times in the 15^th century. Totnes' other claim to fame is that the town was (again, according to Monmouth) the landing site of Uther Pendragon, when he arrived to reclaim the throne of Britain.

The Brutus Stone in Fore Street (Image by Alex1011, via Wikipedia).

There are many other stones Great Britain that claim an ancient importance. Do you know of any wonderful stones we've forgotten? Let us know!