413 – The McFarthest Place: 145 Mi to the Nearest Big Mac

 

There are over 13,000 McDonald’s restaurants in the US, or about 1 for every 23,000 Americans. But even market penetration this advanced doesn’t mean that McDonald’s is everywhere. Somewhere in South Dakota is the McFarthest Spot, the place in the US geographically most removed from the nearest McD’s (*). If you started out from this location, a few miles north of State Highway 20 (which runs latitudinally between Highways 73 in the west and 65 in the east), you’d have to drive 145 miles to get your Big Mac (if you could fly, however, it’d be only 107 miles).

This map is the brainchild of Stephen Von Worley, who got to thinking about the strip malls sprawling out along I-5 in California’s ever less rural Central Valley: “Just how far can you get from generic convenience? And how would you figure that out?”

His yardstick for that thought experiment would be the ubiquitous Golden Arches of McDonald’s – still the world’s largest hamburger chain, and to cite Von Worley, the “inaugural megacorporate colonizer of small towns nationwide.” That’s not the whole story: like other convenience providers aimed at the motorised consumer such as gas stations and motels, McDonald’ses have a notable tendency to occur on highways and, specifically, to cluster at their crossroads.

This map moreover demonstrates that the spread of McD’s closely mirrors the population density of the Lower 48, the most notable overall feature of which is the sudden transition, along the Mississippi, of a relatively densely populated eastern half to a markedly less populated western half of the country. Some notable ‘dark spots’ in McDensity east of the Mississippi are the interior of Maine, the Adirondack region of New York state, a large part of West Virginia, and the Everglades area of southern Florida.

Out west, the Arches are fewer and further between, with the exception of the heavily populated coastal areas. To achieve identical density to the rest of the country, this sparsely burgered part of the country would have to be sandwiched between them so that southern California and western Texas would almost touch, and Seattle would be a day’s drive from Minneapolis. The blackest holes in the western McTapestry are the Nevada desert, some mountainous parts of Oregon and Idaho, and the plains of South Dakota – home to the aforementioned McFarthest Spot.

This map found here on Mr Von Worley’s blog, Weather Sealed. Many thanks to all who sent it in: Laura Hope Evans, Raphaël Schroeter, George Nassas, Frank LeRoy, Dana Hanley, Findlay Christopher Thomas, Jonathan Shomroni, Stephanie McCain, Alan Cunningham, Marc Dressler, Simon Holding, Patrick Dea, Jake Crouch, Stannous Flouride, criggie, Martin Sovik and Leela Kumar.

—– 

(*) N 45.45955 W 101.91356, to be exact, or if you prefer the poetry of toponymy to the precision of a grid reference: 12.5 km WxNW of Glad Valley, 25 ExSE of Meadow, 31 km N of Iron Lightning and 32 km NxNW of Thunder Butte Creek (all in SD). Note: this McFarthest Spot did not take into account McD’s geographic penetration in Alaska and Hawai’i, and therefore only applies to the 48 contiguous states.

412- Federal Feathers

 

The German language describes the difference between two main types of federal states aptly and concisely as being between a Bundesstaat (1) and a Staatenbund (2). The European Union, in which the 27 constituent nations retain sovereignty over such key issues as defence and foreign policy, clearly is an example of the latter. The United States, where federal sovereignty clearly trumps states’ rights, is of the former type.

This does not mean, however, that the 50 constituent states are completely homogenised; in fact, they exhibit a marked tendency to stress their uniqueness and individuality, among other means by choosing a raft of state insignia – even if often as trivial as a State Toy (Kansas: Etch-A-Sketch), State Instrument (Kentucky: Appalachian dulcimer), or State Beverage (Massachusetts: cranberry juice).

Only a handful of states have adopted such idiosyncratic symbols. A much more popular one, adopted by all states and DC in fact, is the State Bird. Funny thing, though: instead of choosing birds unique to each state, or at least not shared with other states, these insignia show an intriguing degree of overlap, and geographic contiguity – as shown by this map.

* Seven states in a contiguous area in the Mid-West and Mid-Atlantic share the Northern Cardinal (Cardinalis cardinalis) for a State Bird. These states, coloured red, are: Illinois, Indiana, Kentucky, North Carolina, Ohio, Virginia and West Virginia. The Northern Cardinal is called Cardinal because it looks like it’s dressed in the flowing red robes or Roman Catholic cardinals, and Northern because it only occurs in that hemisphere. It is also called Redbird, because of the brightly coloured plumage of the male (the female is a more dullish brown-red).

* Six green-coloured southern states (Texas, Arkansas, Tennessee, Mississippi, Florida and South Carolina) all have the Northern Mockingbird (Mimus polyglottus) as a state symbol. Mockingbirds get their name from their ability to mimick (or mock, if you will) the songs of other birds and even other species.

* Six states west of the Mississippi and north of the Missouri Compromise Line share the Western Meadowlark (Sturnella neglecta) as a State Bird. The Western Meadowlark is a blackbird with yellow underparts. These states, here coloured purple, are Kansas, Montana, Nebraska, North Dakota, Oregon and Wyoming.

* Four states opt for the bluebird – although in the case of Nevada and Idaho it’s the Mountain Bluebird (Siala curricuides), and for Missouri and New York it’s the Eastern Bluebird (Siala sialis). The former is bluer than the latter, and occurs mainly west of the Rockies, whereas the latter’s habitat is to the east thereof.

* Three states go yellow by opting for the American Goldfinch (Carduelis tristis): Washington, Iowa and New Jersey.

We therefore have five dominant colours on the ornithological map of the US: red, blue, green, purple and yellow. Thus, ornithology is more than double as colourful as politics, which only manages to colour the States in red or blue. Most other state birds have mottled, multicoloured coats, but at least one colour could be added: that of New Hampshire’s Purple Finch (Carpodacus purpureus).

Many thanks to Raynor Ganan for sending in this map, found here on the Ragbag.

——

(1) – litt. ‘federal state’, federation.
(2) – litt. ‘federation of states’, confederation.

411 – Lit Map of Frisco

Whoever after due and proper warning shall be heard to utter the abominable word “Frisco,” which has no linguistic or other warrant, shall be deemed guilty of a High Misdemeanor, and shall pay into the Imperial Treasury as penalty the sum of twenty-five dollars. - Norton I, Emperor of the United States and Protector of Mexico, 1872

While the self-proclaimed Norton I, a.k.a. Joshua A. Norton (1819-1880), may have contributed more to San Francisco’s reputation for eccentricity than to its literary allure, the latter does owe a thing or two to the former.

The Beat Generation, perhaps the best-known bunch of literati to be associated with Frisc… I mean, San Francisco(*), were nothing if not eccentric – their liberal attitude towards sex, drugs and jazz helped gear-shift American culture from the conformist Fifties into the anything goes Sixties.

The works and influence of Jack Kerouac, Allen Ginsberg, Lawrence Ferlinghetti et alii transformed San Francisco into one of the focal points of the countercultural movement that swept the western world in the Sixties and Seventies. But the literary endowment of the city transcends that flowers-in-your-hair phase, as shown by this map.

Based on a similar map of St Petersburg by Vera Evstafieva and Andrew Biliter (**), this one places city-relevant quotes on a San Francisco map, where possible on the district the quote relates to. San Francisco Bay, cable cars, the Mission, the Tenderloin District and Chinatown are all name-checked in this map, which quotes following authors:

• Alice Adams (Second Chances – 1988)
• Isabel Allende (Daughter of Fortune – 1999)
• Maya Angelou (I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings – 1969)
• Gertrude Atherton (The House of Lee – 1940)
• Albert Benard de Russailh (Last Adventure – 1851)
• Ambrose Bierce (The Death of Halpin Frayser – 1891)
• Herb Caen (Herb Caen’s San Francisco – 1957)
• Philip K. Dick (Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? – 1968)
• Dave Eggers (A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius – 2000)
• Lawrence Ferlinghetti (Dog – 1958)
• Allen Ginsberg (Sunflower Sutra – 1956)
• Andrew Sean Greer (The Confessions of Max Tivoli – 2004)
• Dashiell Hammett (The Maltese Falcon – 1930)
• Robert Hass (Bookbuying in the Tenderloin – 1967)
• Bob Kaufman (No More Jazz at Alcatraz)
• Maxine Hong Kingston (China Men – 1980)
• Jack Kerouac (On the Road – 1957)
• Gus Lee (China Boy – 1991)
• Armistead Maupin (Tales of the City – 1978)
• Czeslaw Milosz (Visions From San Francisco Bay – 1975)
• Alejandro Murguia (The Medicine of Memory – 2002)
• Frank Norris (McTeague – 1899)
• Thomas Pynchon (The Crying of Lot 49 – 1968)
• Ishmael Reed (Earthquake Blues – 1988)
• William Saroyan (The Living and the Dead – 1936)
• John Steinbeck (Travels with Charley – 1961)
• George Sterling (The Cool, Grey City of Love – 1920)
• Robert Louis Stevenson (Arriving in San Francisco – 1879)
• Amy Tan (The Joy Luck Club – 1989)
• Michelle Tea (Valencia – 2000)
• Hunter S. Thompson (The Great Shark Hunt – 1964)
• Mark Twain (Early Rising, As Regards Excursions to the Cliff House – 1864)
• Sean Wilsley (On the Glory of It All – 2005)

Funny thing about these quotes by San Francisco-linked writers: ‘Frisco’ pops up twice…

Many thanks to John McMurtrie of the San Francisco Chronicle for sending in this map, which accompanied an article in the Chronicle in mid-July (online version here on SFGate, the paper’s website).

—–

(*) The abbreviation San Fran is apparently equally disliked by the city’s residents.

(**) a low-res version here.

410 – Manifest Density: Three Dutch Megacities

At 404 inhabitants per square kilometre (1,040/mi2), the Netherlands is one of the most densely populated nations in the world (1). The country’s population density, over 23 times the global average, is a factor in the national discussion on immigration, arming proponents of stricter rules with the slogan “Nederland is vol” (“The Netherlands is full”). While that sounds conversation-stoppingly irrefutable, the premise of that particular political slogan is easily proved wrong – with these maps.

The maps are the work of world-renowned Dutch architect and urbanist Rem Koolhaas, whose influential publications on urban design include S,M,L,XL. That 1,376-page, 2.7-kg (6-pound) behemoth of a book is a rumination on “Manhattanism” – i.e. the tendency of city centre densities to be taken to new heights, sometimes literally, in the form of an urban grid filled with skyscrapers. These three maps demonstrate the scope of super-concentrated urbanity by applying two distinct types of density to a population-versus-surface configuration reputed to be “full”.

The top map shows how full the Netherlands would be if its 15 million-strong (2) population would be concentrated in the density of Los Angeles (3). The Dutch would occupy no more than 6,000 km2 (2,317 mi2) barely filling out one-seventh of its total area (41,526 km2; 16,033 mi2). Repeating that experiment with the population density of Manhattan (4) substituted for LA’s, the second map shows how all of the Netherlands’ inhabitants would live cheek-by-jowl in an area no larger than 600 km2 (232 mi2), which would occupy no more than 1.44% of the total territory of the Netherlands – concentrated in the south of the country’s Limburg panhandle. The third map unwraps that same area to a strip along the 345 km-long (214 mile) Belgian-Dutch border, which would be no wider than 1.75 km (1.08 mile).

Koolhaas labelled these three thought experiments in urban design “Puntstad” (Point City), “Zuidstad” (South City) and “Grensstad” (Border City) respectively. It would be interesting to see which real-life effects such a whimsical realignment of the Netherlands would have on Dutch society. The LA version of the Netherlands doesn’t seem too bad - a bit congested, but at least there’s still easy access to the uninhabited north, providing great hunting, fishing and trekking opportunities for the completely urbanised Dutch. The mega-Manhattan in Holland’s southern extremity, however, conjures up some of the horrors that occur when too many test rats are packed together in too little space. And wouldn’t Border City be the most improbable, unworkable, unliveable city in the world, suffering from a cross between the challenges posed by Chile’s elongation and the Gaza Strip’s overcrowding?

Many thanks to Joeri Cornille for sending in this map.

(1) the 27th out of 238 according to Wikipedia, although if all dependent territories (Macau, Hong Kong, Gibraltar, Bermuda, Guernsey, Jersey, the Palestinian Territories, Saint-Martin, Aruba, Mayotte, Puerto Rico) are disregarded, it climbs to 16. Subtracting densely populated miniature states such as Monaco, Singapore, the Vatican, Bahrain, Malta, the Maldives, Barbados, Mauritius, Nauru, San Marino and Tuvalu edges it up to 5th place, preceded only by (in descending order) Bangladesh, Taiwan, South Korea and the Lebanon.
(2) these maps use outdated data (I nominate the term “outa-data” for this type of thing). The 2009 estimate is 16.5 million.
(3) according to this map: 2,500/km2 (6,474/mi2), although according to Wikipedia it’s 3,168/km2 (8,205/mi2).
(4) according to this map: 25,000/km2 (64,740/mi2), Wikipedia says 27,490.9/km2 (71,201/mi2).