You can see the full PDF archive of Desert here.
Desert is the brainchild of Randall Henderson born of a camping trip set in Santa back in 1936. in The magazine survived in print to 1985 – longer than most magazines could dream to reach. Across 534 issues, the magazine wandered across the United States desert lands exploring everything from folklore to rock hunting and survival skills. The magazine had a cult-like following. How could you not fall in love when Henderson’s inaugural salvo for the magazine spoke the desert in such passionate tones:
“One is a grim desolate wasteland. It is the home of venomous reptiles and stinging insects, of vicious thorn-covered plants and trees, and unbearable heat. This is the desert seen by the stranger speeding along the highway, impatient to be out of “this damnable country…” The other desert — the real desert — is not for the eyes of the superficial observer, or the fearful soul or the cynic. It is a land, the character of which is hidden except to those we come with friendliness and understanding.”
Henderson did more then write about the desert. He championed it. He was instrumental in the creation of Joshua Tree National Monument and protected hundreds of miles of other desert lands.
The entire archive is worth paging through. If not for the covers, then for the articles on treasure hunting in the Turtle Mountains, ghost hunting in abandoned Nevada towns or musings on Shiprock, an ancient volcano in the New Mexico desert.
Northern California’s most iconic byway passes straight through the heart of Redwood country, curving through forests primeval, old logging towns and hippie havens, as well as some chic new vacation hotspots. Highway 101 crosses not only land but time — leading travelers on an idyllic, self-paced tour of America’s former frontier. The coastal Redwoods, those lush, towering, fir-fingered giants, are a sight worth seeing and a destination all on their own: hundreds of thousands of acres of Sequoia sempervirens breathing and drinking silently in the rich, wet maritime climate. Hiking and camping here is possible any time of year (as is a little rain and a lot of fog) with the best locations nestled in the protected old-growth of Del Norte Coast, Jedediah Smith and Prairie Creek State Parks. For those interested in taking a piece of the Redwoods home with you, rustic chainsaw carvings are always an option. But there is another. Coastal Redwoods are unique among conifers for their ability to germinate easily from seed. Apply ample moisture and mulch, and they’re hardy to Zone 7. Pull over at one of the local gift shops for a grow kit of your own.
Less is so much more in the great outdoors. Less noise. Less distraction. Less light to dim the stars. In many ways, we go out there to discover what we need, and what we can leave behind. The trick is in finding the right things, and keeping them affordable, and caring for them so they last. Ok, that’s actually three tricks. And there are more. Here we’ll focus on what to buy where and things you can make or do on your own. Please share what you think of the choices and how your packing goes.
Swiss Army style gadgets are helpful, but I also love a tool that does one thing and does it well. SteriPEN is a compact, battery powered, completely reliable water purification system that uses UV light. It takes seconds to work and there’s no funny aftertaste. Dunk the bulb in your water, press a button and you’re done. I’ve used mine on some extremely suspect ditch water and felt fine, then drank tap water in the same area and felt, you know, the opposite. They’re $70-130 at REI, Amazon, or FreshWaterSystems.com.
Used: Water Bottles
Is it just me, or did the backlash against disposable water bottles turn into wellspring of unused reusables? I’ve been through an embarrassing amount over the years. I’m making up for it spiritually by reminding myself and anyone who will listen that every thrift store on the planet has water bottles to spare. Antique stores have rugged old-school canteens. For every bottle you buy used, a Scout gets a merit badge. For every bottle you buy new, a bird falls off a tree.
Yours: Sprout Mix
Pure, fresh water. Nice, clean water bottles. That’s pretty much all you need for sprouting seeds in your backpack or car. They’re such a nice surprise after a few days of rehydrated meals or a diet of meat-and-marshmallows. Buying a pre-packaged seed mix costs (much) more than scooping your own from the bulk aisle of your natural food store. So dig in! Go for larger seeds like chickpeas, lentils and beans. They’re easier to work with in makeshift places where the last thing you want to do is spill. And remember, while this is technically science, it is also magic. Learn what works for you by playing with this basic technique:
1. Soak seeds overnight or up to 14 hours.
2. Drain and rinse. Screw lid on as loosely as possible. Store away from light.
3. Rinse and drain thoroughly 3 times per day for 3-4 days. Keep the lid loose and the bottle upright.
4. Taste test. Around day 3 or 4, seeds will be tender, flavorful, and ready for your table.
“What is a camp without the evening campfire? It’s nothing but a place in the woods where some people have some things.” –Ernest Thomson Seton
Campfires tell their own stories. The good ones for a night or two, the bad ones for months or even years. My favorites are the cook fires that crackle and roar and feed but never linger, vanishing as completely as smoke into the night. For the low-impact, highly-functional fire you will need: dirt, rocks, wood, matches, an axe, a hand trowel, your cooking utensils and a fire pan.
1. Select a location for your campfire.
Away from anything that could catch fire, like grass or low branches, and anything that keeps the forest alive, like root systems and organic soil. Sand is perfect. A large, flat rock works, too.
2. Place your fire pan.
Fire pans form a protective layer for the soil below. They can be made from almost any material, including garbage can lids or steel baking pans. Canvas or nylon tarps are relatively lightweight and make a slightly larger workspace. Simple to pack and prepare, fire pans stop soil from being charred, sterilized or disturbed by animals in search of food, and they make campfire cleanup easier for you.
3. Cover with layer of mineral soil.
Dig for soil in a plant-free area. Carry back to your fire pan and pile on top to insulate. Pat down flat.
4. Form a ring.
Collect stones and arrange in the shape of a keyhole: round on one end, with a narrow rectangular channel on the other. On the wider side you will burn wood and gather friends. On the other you’ll scrape fresh hot coals and cook on a grill. No grill? Balance your pots and pans across the stones.
5. Sort your fuel.
As a rule, buy your firewood from one of those roadside stacks on your way out. It keeps the deadwood you would otherwise gather where it belongs (in the woods) and minimizes the risk of spreading plant diseases from one area to the next. Split or sort your bundle into:
Tinder: a handful of splinters, dry weeds, twigs or bark from dead trees.
Kindling: from thin twigs to club-sized sticks.
Logs: Split logs burn and produce coals more quickly. Whole logs last longer and make better fuel for social hour(s).
6. Start with a fire-lay.
At the heart of every fire, lay a “fire stick” across two short, thick sticks or egg-sized stones. Place tinder beneath the fire stick and layer kindling above. Light this.
7. Build up your fire… slowly.
Pyramid: Place 10”-12” sticks around your fire-lay and keep adding as you burn. Good for quick fires and boiling.
Log Cabin: Build a criss-crossing stack of wood around your fire-lay. Produces lots of coals for heat-intensive meals. Less likely to smother the temperamental element.
8. Get cooking!
Chili, shish kebabs, flap jacks… fire-roasted banana with Nutella! Who needs clean fingers when you have a face full of gooey breakfast chocolate? Try not to drip or throw food waste into the fire. That would only cool it off and leave bits for animals to find.
9. Clean up.
Burn all wood to white ash at least thirty minutes prior to cleanup. Crush any remaining charcoal to powder. Scatter evidence of your fire over a large area, dispersing the rocks and returning the soil to its hole. Then enjoy the satisfaction of looking over your campsite as you leave and seeing… nothing. No blackened ring, no ugly scar, no sign of human habitation to spoil the view.
Memorial Day Weekend is a stone’s throw away. Just in time for full-on camping fever, Vintage Hiking Depot posted author C. B. Colby’s ten camping commandments, reposted here now so there will be less finger wagging later:
1. Thou shalt not arrive or depart a campground with great chaos
2. Thou shalt not despoil any living thing about thee
3. Thou shalt not be slovenly about they tent site
4. Thou shalt not make loud noises after 10 p.m.
5. Thou shalt not let thy pets and children run wild
6. Thou shalt not give advice unless it is sought after
7. Thou shalt not hesitate to give aid if it’s needed
8. Thou shalt not crowd thy neighbor unduly
9. Thou shalt not borrow unless desperate
10. Though shalt not know more about camping than all others
C. B. Colby was the author of many children’s books on camp craft and the Camping Editor for Outdoor Life Magazine.
Ponderosa Pines are easy trees to love. They smell like vanilla cupcakes, maple syrup and sausages, or pineapple to some lucky noses, and when the sun strikes them in the right way, they light up like pillars of pink salt. 40 to 150 foot tall pillars that can reach up to 8 feet wide and 600 years old under the best conditions. And they are everywhere, pouring over the Rocky Mountains, covering the southwest, and standing off against the prairies to the east.
The Scottish botanist David Douglas named them Pinus Ponderosa for their “ponderous” size (he hadn’t seen the Redwoods yet) but the trees have a particular aspect and mood that goes beyond bigness, approaching the sublime. Qualities that have everything to do with two factors: drought and fire.
Drought forces their roots deeper and wider than most conifers, spacing them well apart and making Ponderosa forests feel airy, peaceful and light. Dry seasons inevitably lead to combustion, whether by lightning strike or, now, by people who grasp how deeply fire is woven into the character of Western woods.
In fact, Ponderosas are quite literally fire bugs. They need it so bad, they provide their own kindling by continually shedding bark and limbs en mass every year. Bare trunks keep flames from reaching vital crowns and lanky, draping needles shield their cones from heat. Brush fires clear out shade-bearing competitors like White Pine or Incense Cedar without seriously injuring older trees. At the same time fire coaxes sap into the lowest, deepest parts of Ponderosa trunks, bracing the heartwood so it can stand under its own weight for hundreds of years.
Fire is tough, necessary love. It’s the natural history lesson of a century and a funny thing to learn from any tree.
A great treasure of food radio is Evan Kleinman’s program “Good Food” which airs weekly on KCRW out of Los Angeles. On it, she explores food consumption, sharing everything from the latest crop at the Santa Monica farmer’s market to the funkiest hole in the wall from the underground restaurant scene.
Evan often brings a foodie guest onto her show, further wetting our appetite as we hear about unique recipes from different cultures, important issues regarding food policy or the hottest new trend in eating. No topic is off the table. Before listening to “Good Food” I never knew there was such a thing as a beauty pageant for chickens nor did I know that butter carving was an art. I’m still digesting it all!
With summer weather in mind, Evan recently brought London based blogger Kate Perutz onto her show. Perutz pens the blog, “The Saturday Picnic Society,” where she writers about her outdoor adventures and the food she brings along. If you haven’t checked it out, you must. On “Good Food” Perutz pairs adventure choice (beach vs. mountains) with meal ideas (salad lettuce wraps vs. hearty soups). She says ditch the vintage picnic basket (Evan really had her heart set on using it too) and settle for the sporty (small) backpack.
Picnics should be filling, yet light weight especially if bringing them along with you. I was shocked to hear she’s moving away from the sandwich, which I exclusively associate with picnics. She shares tips on foraging while hiking, mainly ideas for what to bring back to the kitchen rather than snacking on your findings (my personal side note: be extra cautious when foraging and never eat something you can’t identity as non-poisonous).
Finally she shares her energy-filled recipe for trail mix which centers around her go-to marmalade granola (recipe here). She adds dark chocolate covered cranberries, crystallized ginger, yogurt covered raisins and assorted nuts. Food wise, I think we just reached the summit. Before you pack your picnic for the trails, tune in to the whole episode here.
Place a sturdy leaf in a jar of water and at the end of several weeks or months, depending on the leaf, you will have the makings of a phantom bouquet. All that remains is to sift out the nets intact, rinse and gently rub away the pulp. The same process occurs every winter on damp and spongy forest floors so that come spring, after the snow has melted, whole acres are covered with the remains of skeletalized leaves. But they do more than attract the eye.
In Phantom Flowers, a treatise on the art of producing skeleton leaves – an unfortunately anonymous how-to booklet published in 1864 – the author explains:
From the large proportion of mineral matter contained in the leaves, it is evident that the same substances existing in the earth must be annually circulating from one to the other. The roots extract them from the soil, they ascend the tree with the sap, and are deposited in the leaves. Having given them coherency and strength, and having probably performed other functions which are yet unknown to either botanist or chemist, the fall and decay of the leaves returns these mineral ingredients to the earth. With the succeeding year the mysterious circuit is repeated, the tree enlarging in bulk, and the forest soil increasing in richness…
Phantom Flowers describes how to preserve plants, including their leaves, buds, and seed-vessels, in an ornate, patient and purist Victorian style. J.E. Tilton & Co. might have published the book primarily to sell their leaf whitening agent, but the author puts such an… ahem… flowery Emersonian spin on the whole affair, it’s worth a re-visit even now:
The science which enables us to understand not only the history, the names, the virtues, and the associations connected with all plants, as well as the wonderful relations, the admirable laws which govern their structure, and the important part they bear in the economy of the universe, is worthy of the careful study of every intelligent person. He will find it worth while to become familiar with a science which, wherever his steps may lead him, from the bleak mountaintop, crusted over with mosses and lichens only, to warm and luxuriant tropical valleys, where the magnificence of vegetable wonders almost bewilders the senses, with still furnish him with new subjects for admiration. It will make his morning walk in the garden or over the meadow a new delight. A tramp along the commonest field path, or a ramble by the wayside, which, to the eye of the dull and unlearned, may be mean and barren, he will find rich in interest and exuberant in beauty…
The fields, the forests, the entire landscape have a positively different and altogether new meaning to one who sees, not only the general beauty of the whole display, but who also studies with delight every detail of fern, or shrub, or forest tree in the foreground.
On a more practical note, the book contains “minute particulars” on over twenty different species. The author specifies when to collect, how long to soak, and what kind of results you can expect from any given leaf. Whether or not you choose to bleach them in the olden style is entirely up to you.
Observations from the East Coast’s Largest Gem and Mineral Show
By Kate Sennert
Photos by Rory Gunderson
Behind booth 201, a woman points to a rock donning a $900 price tag. “This one’s spoken for,” she informers to her co-worker, “The guy gets his tax refund in three weeks.” She is wearing a baseball cap and a snugly fit tank top emblazoned with the logo for Prospectors, a new reality show on the Weather Channel about “upstart” miners in America’s Rocky Mountain region searching for gold and gems. Stars from the show are purportedly on site. A few booths over, a middle-aged woman ogles a milky, blue-green hunk of fluorite mantled in a display case under florescent lights. “We don’t need anymore fluorite,” chides her husband, who then drifts toward a collection of fiery red wulfenite specimens, each with a four-figure asking price. The MC takes then to the loudspeaker, reminding visitors not to bypass the life-size models of dinosaurs used in the film Jurassic Park.
Enter the NY/NJ Gem and Mineral Show—the largest event of its kind outside of Tucson, now boasting its second year. So well attended was the previous year’s event that the show has been moved to a mammoth, 150,000-foot exhibition hall at the end of a sprawling industrial park in Edison, New Jersey. On the surface it’s an unlikely destination for some of the earth’s most rare and alluring treasures. Yet the place is teeming with visitors, an odd mix of natural history buffs, new age healers, cowboys, geophysicists, amateur paleontologists, little boys dressed as Indiana Jones, one guy dressed up sort of like an astronaut, and rock collectors, oodles of them, who have made pilgrimages from all corners of the country.
Minerals, apparently, are the great equalizer. Their mysterious and alluring beauty lies in having come—as one friendly miner from Upstate New York put it—“from the ground.” How is it possible, you ask yourself, that these crystalline structures in colors so mesmerizing and shapes so complex come not from the hands of men, but from the very ground we walk on? Bubbly green smithsonite crystals that resemble a cluster of grapes. Rhodochrosite brighter pink than any neon sign. Juicy watermelon tourmaline with hues so tantalizing you almost want to take a bite.
If that doesn’t blow your mind, there are plenty of other gems on display: dinosaur fossils, trilobites, glow-in-the-dark rocks under UV lights, jars full of shark teeth and furniture constructed of petrified wood. For this reporter, though, it is the dazzling array of gemstones and minerals that truly delights the eye. You are supposed to call them specimens, by the way—not rocks—but there’s not a single snob in the room to correct you.
The cherry tree has always had a powerful grasp on the hearts and minds of the Japanese. Come March, an entire nation turns their ears to hear the cherry blossom forecast- whole crowds wait, eager to gather and picnic under pink and white blossom clouds. In Japanese culture, the tree represents lavish beauty, and transience, and the inevitability of death. Kamikaze bombers adopted the flowers as their symbol, painting them on their planes, and some even believed they would be reincarnated as next season’s blossoms.
Some of the USA’s greatest cherry displays come direct from the land of cherry blossom. Washington D.C obtained it’s first donation of more than 3,000 trees as a gift from the City of Tokyo in 1912. The Brooklyn Botanic garden’s 220 Japanese cherries are the centerpiece for the garden’s ‘Hanami’ celebrations, where visitors can revel in the scents and sights of spring.
And what better way to celebrate spring than with a flower whose lifespan is as short as the season itself?
It’s National Park Week. Across the country parks have been opening their gates, waiving entry fees and holding special events in honor of our wilderness heritage. To give a little of what you get, consider volunteering this summer at a park in your area. As the NPS prepares for the seasonal rush, they’re putting out the call for special projects that could keep you trail-bound for days or have you home by supper.
Olympic National Park – Survey the park for the endemic marmot population or contact Jill Zarzeczny (360.565.3047) to help transplant seedlings from the native plant nursery to the newly protected Elwha River area.
Great Smoky Mountains National Park – Assist rangers with monitoring elk and people in the remote Cataloochee valley. Contact Ranger Pete Walker at 828.506.1739.
St. Croix National Scenic Riverway – Help identify invasive species before they get out of hand or become a citizen scientist and monitor for algal blooms by collecting water samples. Contact Jonathan Moore (715.491.6839) to lend a hand.
Sequoia and Kings National Parks – Videographers wanted to create podcasts and public service announcements, produce short video stories and document the scenic heart of the land of giants. Contact Tim Barrett (565.4232) to volunteer your skills.
Search for opportunities in the park closest to your heart here.
Carrion flower does it. Corpse flower does it too. So guess which of our USA natives is gifted with the talent for thermogenesis (producing it’s own heat)?
Are we noticing a theme yet? First of all, it bears mentioning that these three plants are all in the same family: the Araceae. Second of all, these plants all use strong scents to attract pollinating flies to their flowers- why? Because heat aids in dispersing these scents to further flung locales, and getting more pollinators in to do their duty, more quickly.
Skunk cabbage’s heat-producing capabilities serve a second purpose, too. Ever notice it is always the first plant up, come spring? Forget daffodils or snowdrops. Increasing air temperatures directly around the plant by as much as 50 degrees F, skunk cabbage is able to melt snow, and get a serious jump on the season. Thermogenesis is such a production, it requires the plant to use a whole different kind of metabolism than it usually does. In terms of energy use, the plant kinda starts acting like a hummingbird, or fleet-footed rodent. It’s weird.
So next time you’re out enjoying that first sliver of springtime green thanks to skunk cabbage (or maybe cursing it because it smells so nasty), stick your finger inside it’s flowers- feel the difference!
Image from The Encyclopedia of Vanished Species by David Day (McLaren Publishing, 1989)
Certain bird calls are as familiar as the taste of mint or the weight of a no. 2 pencil. Crows, gulls and some owls come to mind. Roosters, geese and ducks. Birds whose voices we have words for, or whose songs we can easily mimic. Then there are the birds whose voices we hear year after year in our yards and woods and parks without ever thinking to name or hoping to describe.
That is until, thanks to a good field guide or a knowing friend, we do.
The melodic sigh of the hermit thrush fell into place for me that way. And the quippy chatter of jays.
For so many reasons, recognizing birds by their call or song is a good skill to have. Excepting jays, who flit foxily into view, most successful bird watching involves a great deal of bird listening. And sometimes that’s all you get. Or all you want as in the case of the thrush – a dull brown lump with a surprisingly wistful, lilting song.
Recently, this time thanks to the Internet, I learned to recognized the territorial call of the northern flicker. The following morning, one showed up next door. It took losing a hat, missing a bus and arriving late for work, but now the bird’s rough whoop is as telltale as a single set of footprints trailing behind me in the snow.
Spring comes with its fair share of rain, old winter tree slush, and even hail—all hazards on the trail and all good reasons to stow your necessities in a reliably water-resistant day pack. A few bag makers still craft their goods in the United States, making them superior in quality and karma. Their simple, structured designs and rugged fabrics make them over-the-top obsess-worthy. Be sure to click through for the mother of all beautiful / functional packs.
Waxed or not, canvas is classic.
Frost River started out making canoe bags for trappers and miners, so when they say waterproof they mean it.
Plenty of options yet unrivaled for simplicity. The Archival Clothing rucksack comes in multiple colors (all good), roll-top or flap, waxed canvas or duck.
The Scoutmaster Pack, an easy choice from the all-American bag brand Duluth.
Basic or bold, nylon goes and goes.
Topo Designs calls this the Goldilocks of rucksacks because it’s just right. Well, I’m convinced.
More after the jump…
The good news is, wildflowers do not startle. No matter how long it takes to make a positive ID or take an up-close photo, they are happy to pose. The no-so-good news is, depending on the plant, their display may last only weeks or days in any given place.
To make the most of your trip, you’ll want to grab a guidebook, make a plan, and bring your lucky rabbits foot. Like anything else, wildflower hunting is all about being in the right place at the right time. But with a little preparation, nature will reward you with an abundance of memorable colors, shapes, textures, and experiences:
1. Study the likely suspects. Depending on where you go, only two or three early bloomers will be hardy or conspicuous enough to show. Look them up ahead of time in a book or encyclopedia that includes info on season and ecology. Then remember to pack a field guide (I love my Pojar) to cover the mysterious strangers and colorful party crashers you meet along the way.
2. Follow the rain. Sunny days are fine for hiking, but sunny days after a downpour are even better. Especially true in the southwest, where some opportunistic buds respond within hours, not days, and evaporate as briskly.
3. Go for southern exposure. Just like in your garden, southern facing slopes dry out and green up earlier than others. Select a trail that will, on a macro-level, spend most of its time on the bright side of your hill/valley/river/canyon/gorge.
4. Stay on the trail. Good sense on any hike and especially meaningful in wildflower country. Nonwoody plants crush easily underfoot; compacted soil will snuff them out. Unbeknownst to you, the seeds of non-native plants may have hitched a ride on the soles of your boot. And it almost goes without saying: don’t pick. A severed stem does nothing for their winsome looks.
5. And speaking of looks… keep yours low. Both in terms of altitude (the lowlands and valleys spring up before mountainsides) and undergrowth. Many early bloomers are short, lithe, unassuming creatures who nab their place in the sun before taller, fuller varieties fill in the wildflower canopy. But small doesn’t mean less interesting. Take shooting star, or Dodecatheon – a dainty display with captivating geometry.
6. Don’t overlook the wayside. I know when I hear wildflowers, my mind immediately goes to alpine meadows in full effect. However the blossoms are many along country roads and in empty suburban lots, often dwarfing by sheer number their cousins in the high country.
Last but not least, do you have any tips for me? As a new writer here at Wilder, I’d love to hear your thoughts on native plants, hiking, camping, and everything outdoors. Leave a comment or send a lovely note to summer [at] wilderquarterly [dot] com. Happy hunting!
Last May I wrote a post about the arrival of the emerald ash borer beetle in New York State’s Orange County. It’s a problem. Numerous exotic species, hailing from places all around the globe, assail our shores each year. While the majority of these alien invaders are relatively benign, inflating regional diversity numbers and adding to the biological patchwork of the landscape, some of them are outright terrors.
The emerald ash borer is one such bug. Boring into the bark of ash trees, the insect’s larvae feed on the plant’s phloem , essentially cutting off the tree’s ability to feed itself. In badly infested areas, trees die within just a couple of years. Already abundant in Michigan, this single sparkly beetle has been responsible for the decimation of millions of ash trees. New York State is up next.
What can you do? Get in touch with a local arborist. Find out how to identify an ash and the signs of the emerald ash borer. Additonally, the National Seed Laboratory, the Great Lakes Restoration Initiative, the Mid Atlantic Regional Seed Bank, and Cornell are all participating in an interstate ash seed collection program. You can help. Come to a training. Learn more about the project. Ash trees account for almost 20% of our trees in some areas of New York State and they are abundant across the nation: help save a species before it’s too late.
“Unless Congress can reach a budget agreement by March 1, the country’s national parks will be hit by a $110 million budget cut, resulting in shuttered campgrounds, shorter seasons, road closings and reduced emergency services, a parks advocacy group reports.” The New York Times
Well, I say screw ‘em. Donate to the National Parks here.
If you’ve never been to a National Park, I do recommend going. Life changer. Go West or North to really see the glory of what Wallace Stegner called, “the best idea we ever had.” There are 59 and most offer campgrounds, fishing, rafting, horse backing riding, stargazing and a slew of other wonderful things. The classics are great (Yosemite, Glacier, etc), but here are some of my and the Wilder team’s favorites:
Badlands, South Dakota
Grand Teyton, Wyoming
Great Sand Dunes, Colorado
Death Valley, California / Nevada
Assateague Island, Maryland
Great Smoky Mountains, Tennessee
Page 1 of 3