The Schwann Glacier (original from MAY 7, 2013), this entry is by GROK V3

Original version here (in which I misspelled the name) Still not found on Wikipedia

The Schwann Glacier is located in Alaska, specifically in the Valdez-Cordova Census Area near Cordova. It’s a stunning natural feature situated in the rugged Chugach Mountains, a region known for its dramatic landscapes and abundant glacial ice. The glacier is positioned at approximately 60.8881°N latitude and -145.1412°W longitude, with an elevation of around 3,796 feet (1,157 meters) above sea level. It’s captured on the Cordova D-4 USGS topographic map, placing it in a remote, wild part of Alaska where access typically requires some serious outdoor know-how.

This glacier, like many in Alaska, is a flowing mass of ice sculpted by the region’s climate and topography. It’s fed by snow accumulation in the higher elevations, where cold temperatures allow ice to build up over years, compressing into dense glacial ice that slowly moves downhill under its own weight. The Chugach range, where Schwann Glacier resides, is heavily glaciated due to its proximity to the Gulf of Alaska, which brings plenty of moisture that falls as snow in the mountains. The glacier’s exact size and current state are hard to pin down without up-to-the-minute data, but it’s part of a landscape where glaciers have been retreating over decades due to warming trends—though some, depending on local conditions, can still hold their own or even advance temporarily.

The name "Schwann" doesn’t have a widely publicized origin story in the public domain, but Alaskan glaciers are often named after explorers, scientists, or notable figures tied to the region’s history. It’s possible it honors someone like Theodor Schwann, the biologist who described Schwann cells, though that’s speculative without specific records. More likely, it’s linked to a local or expedition-related figure, as is common with Alaskan nomenclature.

Getting to Schwann Glacier isn’t a casual stroll—it’s in a remote area without marked trails leading directly to it. You’d likely start from Cordova, a small coastal town accessible by plane or ferry, and then venture into the backcountry. This could involve hiking, skiing, or even a chartered flight to get a closer look, depending on the season (late February 2025, like now, would mean snow and ice dominate). The terrain around Cordova is a mix of dense forest, steep slopes, and icy expanses, so it’s a trip for the well-prepared.

The Holocene transgression (and global sea level) from MAY 3, 2013, this version from GROK V3

The Holocene transgression refers to a significant rise in global sea levels that occurred during the Holocene epoch, which began around 11,700 years ago after the end of the last Ice Age (the Pleistocene). It’s a fascinating chapter in Earth’s history, driven by the melting of massive ice sheets and the reshaping of coastlines worldwide.

At the end of the Pleistocene, vast glaciers—like those covering North America and northern Europe—started retreating as the planet warmed. This marked the beginning of a transition from a glacial to an interglacial period. The Holocene transgression kicked off roughly around 19,000 to 18,000 years ago, though the most rapid sea-level rise happened between about 15,000 and 6,000 years ago. During this time, sea levels rose by approximately 120 to 130 meters (about 390 to 425 feet) as meltwater from ice sheets poured into the oceans. The rate wasn’t steady—it peaked at times, with pulses of up to 40 millimeters per year during events like Meltwater Pulse 1A around 14,500 years ago, when the Antarctic Ice Sheet and Laurentide Ice Sheet dumped huge volumes of water fast.

This wasn’t just a slow creep of water; it transformed landscapes dramatically. Low-lying coastal plains flooded, creating new shorelines and submerging what were once habitable areas. For example, the North Sea’s Doggerland—a land bridge connecting Britain to mainland Europe—disappeared under the waves, turning the region into an archipelago by around 8,000 years ago. Similarly, the Persian Gulf, which was a dry river valley during the Ice Age, filled in, and the Black Sea might have experienced a sudden inundation around 7,600 years ago, possibly inspiring flood myths like the story of Noah.

The transgression slowed significantly after 6,000 years ago as the major ice sheets stabilized, though sea levels have continued to inch up more gradually—about 1 to 3 meters total since then—due to thermal expansion of seawater and smaller-scale ice melt. By around 4,000 to 3,000 years ago, sea levels approached what we recognize today, though they’ve fluctuated slightly with regional variations due to factors like land rebound (isostatic adjustment) or subsidence.

What’s cool about this period is how it shaped human history too. Early coastal communities had to adapt—some migrated inland, others shifted to fishing and maritime lifestyles as the seas encroached. Archaeological sites from this time, now underwater, like those off the coast of India or in the Gulf of Mexico, hint at lost settlements swallowed by the rising waters.

The Holocene transgression isn’t just a past event—it’s a baseline for understanding current sea-level changes. Today’s rise, tied to climate change, is much faster than the late Holocene average, but it echoes the same interplay of ice, water, and warming.

The Sycamore Springs Reservoir, (first entry from MAY 3, 2013, updated with GROK version 3)

The Sycamore Reservoir, often called Sycamore Spring Reservoir in some older references, located in the Santa Catalina Mountains near Tucson, Arizona. It’s a fascinating spot with a mix of natural beauty and historical significance.

The Sycamore Reservoir is a small lake nestled in the Pusch Ridge Wilderness, originally built in 1939 to supply water to the Catalina Federal Honor Camp, also known as the Tucson Federal Prison Camp. This camp housed non-violent federal prisoners, including conscientious objectors during World War II, like Gordon Hirabayashi, who resisted Japanese American internment policies. The reservoir was a critical resource for the camp, but over time, nature has taken its toll—flash floods have filled much of it with rock and sand, shrinking its size considerably.

Today, it’s less of a functional reservoir and more of a scenic destination. The surrounding area features a sandy beach and is framed by alder, willow, and sycamore trees, giving it a lush, riparian feel that’s a stark contrast to the arid desert nearby. It’s fed by streams from Bear Canyon and Sycamore Canyon, and when water levels are high, you might catch a small waterfall spilling over the old dam. The spot is a haven for wildlife, especially birds, thanks to the vegetation that extends into the canyons around it.

Getting there involves a hike along the Sycamore Reservoir Trail #39, starting from the Gordon Hirabayashi Recreation Site off the Catalina Highway, near milepost 7. The trail’s about 3.25 miles one way, descending roughly 800 feet from the trailhead at around 4,880 feet elevation. You’ll pass through the old prison camp ruins—mostly just concrete foundations now—and into the wilderness. It’s a moderate hike with great views of landmarks like Thimble Peak and Cathedral Rock, and it’s part of the Arizona Trail, so you could extend your adventure if you’re up for it. The return trip’s a bit of a climb, so be ready for that.

The reservoir’s a popular spot for a day trip or even an overnight, especially in fall or winter when the foliage pops and the weather’s milder. It’s not really a swimming hole anymore due to the silt, and any water there needs purification if you’re thinking of using it. Still, it’s a peaceful escape with a story to tell—less about holding water now and more about holding onto a piece of history and nature.

(Using GROK to ask about things not found on Wikipedia is fascinating)

The "Siberian Snow Theory"

The Siberian Snow Theory is a concept in meteorology that suggests a connection between the amount of snow cover in Siberia during the fall—particularly in October—and the severity of winter weather in parts of the Northern Hemisphere, like North America and Europe. The idea is that extensive snow in Siberia can influence large-scale atmospheric patterns, potentially leading to colder and harsher winters elsewhere.

Here’s how it works in simple terms: when Siberia gets a lot of snow early in the season, it creates a larger area of cold, reflective ground. This cools the air above it more than usual, strengthening a high-pressure system known as the Siberian High. This beefed-up high pressure can then mess with the polar vortex—a big swirl of cold air typically locked up around the Arctic. If the vortex weakens or shifts, it can send blasts of frigid air southward into places like the eastern United States or Europe, making winters there colder or snowier.

The theory was pioneered by a climatologist named Judah Cohen, who’s spent years studying how Siberian snow might act as a signal for what’s coming weather-wise. He’s argued that a rapid buildup of snow in October can set off a chain reaction in the atmosphere, with effects showing up weeks later. For example, it might nudge the Arctic Oscillation—a pattern tied to the polar vortex—into a “negative” phase, which often means colder weather for mid-latitudes.

It’s not a perfect predictor, though. Sometimes the expected cold doesn’t hit where or when people think it will, and other factors—like ocean temperatures or El Niño—can throw it off. Cohen himself has said it’s right about 75% of the time, based on his tracking, but there have been notable misses, like when warm winters followed big Siberian snow years. Critics point out that the link between Siberian snow and, say, a snowy New York winter isn’t always clear-cut, and some argue it’s just one piece of a much messier puzzle.

Still, it’s an intriguing idea because it tries to give us a heads-up on winter months in advance, using something we can actually measure—like snow cover from satellites. Whether it’s a slam dunk or not, it’s a reminder of how connected the planet’s weather systems really are. 

The Siberian Snow Theory is a scientific model that predicts winter weather patterns in North America based on the amount of snow in Siberia in October. [1, 2] 

How it works [2] 

• The theory assumes that more snow in Siberia in October means a stronger Siberian High. 
• A stronger Siberian High can weaken the polar vortex, causing it to break up. 
• Pieces of the polar vortex can then travel to North America, bringing colder Arctic air. 

Why it's used [2] 

Forecasters use the Siberian Snow Theory to gauge the severity of winters in North America. [2] 

Additional information [3] 

• In October, Siberia and the Eurasian region can see a snow cover that expands by as much as six million square miles. This is larger than the total land area of the U.S., including Alaska. [3] 
• The Siberian High is a weather system that brings cold, dry air to Siberia as the seasons change. The high pressure also steers storms away that can mix the atmosphere and bring warmer air into the region. [2] 

Generative AI is experimental.

[1] https://www.envirotech-online.com/news/environmental-laboratory/7/breaking-news/what-is-the-siberian-snow-theory/41157

[2] https://earthobservatory.nasa.gov/images/144186/october-snow-in-siberia

[3] https://www.usatoday.com/story/news/weather/2023/10/09/siberian-snow-winter-weather-us/71043184007/

This article generated by an AI

Judah L. Cohen, Dr. Judah Cohen, MIT climatologist

Dr. Judah Cohen, Director of Seasonal Forecasting and Principal Scientist at Atmospheric and Environmental Research (AER). Cohen also has a Research Affiliate appointment in the Civil and Environmental Engineering Department of MIT. In addition to his research interests on the polar vortex, Arctic mid-latitude linkages and weather extreme, Cohen is leading AER's development of seasonal forecast products and machine learning models for subseasonal (3-6 weeks) forecasts.  source

Creator and chief propagator  of The “Siberian Snow Theory”, a scientific model of predicting upcoming weather patterns based upon the amount of snowfall in northern Asia.  source

https://x.com/judah47/

His theory is controversial and he has published a lot about it.  

Like so many people or things not found on Wikipedia, using an AI to create an article is the fastest and easiest way to find out about something not found on Wikipedia.

The Siberian Snow Theory is a scientific model that predicts winter weather patterns in North America based on the amount of snow in Siberia in October. 

[1] https://www.envirotech-online.com/news/environmental-laboratory/7/breaking-news/what-is-the-siberian-snow-theory/41157

[2] https://earthobservatory.nasa.gov/images/144186/october-snow-in-siberia

[3] https://www.usatoday.com/story/news/weather/2023/10/09/siberian-snow-winter-weather-us/71043184007/

https://iopscience.iop.org/article/10.1088/1748-9326/7/1/014007/pdf

https://web.mit.edu/jlcohen/www/papers/Gong_GRL03.pdf

https://rclutz.com/2024/12/21/2024-natural-climate-factors-snow/

http://notrickszone.com/2012/01/21/warming-summers-not-causing-colder-winters/

The Shadow Broker

A character from the Mass Effect video game series.^[

Matt Suiche quoted the following description of that character: "The Shadow Broker is an individual at the head of an expansive organization which trades in information, always selling to the highest bidder. The Shadow Broker appears to be highly competent at its trade: all secrets that are bought and sold never allow one customer of the Broker to gain a significant advantage, forcing the customers to continue trading information to avoid becoming disadvantaged, allowing the Broker to remain in business."^[13]

While the character has no article, the above is from an article about The Shadow Brokers

Build you own meat comics

 http://www.monkeydyne.com/rmcs/buildmeat.html

Based on the Red Meat comics of Max Cannon

Max Cannon is not found on Wikipedia, but you can read about him here