tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-88727682571522236062024-03-05T07:51:10.106-06:00Wanderings of a Girl RyderThat Okie Gal.
Finding the extraordinary in the ordinary.
Coffee, please.Simply Wild Photographyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08147058370903255945noreply@blogger.comBlogger154125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8872768257152223606.post-56364546919126642432016-01-07T09:07:00.002-06:002016-01-07T09:10:15.007-06:007.1.16<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Things I have learned in the past week:<br /><br />-Dual citizens are unwanted. At least when it Comes to applying for jobs on US Military bases in Germany. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">- American food Quality sucks. A lot of my weirdness (Skin rashes, Panic attacks, etc.) has disappeared. I Attribute this to the good food and the even better Beer here in Germany.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">-One must have Patience and follow specific protocols. Hello German bureaucracy. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">- German Keyboards want to capitalize all words perceived to be nouns.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">And lastly:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">-I never knew how awesome Oklahoma´s air Quality was. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Maybe I should start at the beginning. With another degree in my Hand, I packed my bags (one suitcase, actually) and hit the air. I crammed all of my precious belongings and a couple of clothes in that suitcase and was surprised that I still had a couple of Pounds to spare before I hit the sell-some-organs Limit.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">At this particular Moment, I should be creating a German resume. Something I could have done months ago, but procrasinator Habits die hard. So here we are, you reading this and me debating whether or not to have that 7th Cup of coffee.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">You know, I always thought Oklahoma weatherwas bipolar, but, Boy, this German weather is worse. Take today for example, the sun was shining in all it´s glory as I sped down the forest paths Stripping away the layers. Before I knew what happened, the sun had done gone and left, the temperatures plummeted, and the Clouds done started to cry. <br /><br />Out of so many impressions it´s hard to choose which one left the greatest mark. Since I´m missing the <a href="mailto:www.stoneturtlelodging@gmail.com" target="_blank">Stone Turtle</a>, I´m gonna say it´s the taste of home I found this week:</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVrKD8i1L79lWF1sOUMWfq9J74qg0oNmPA0gY8TaGcHn_Hlc436KUdh1gBIyoqN5cQQ3iVf3SFgdbM_3IpHfPSdbu2eWia7lCtxnG4_XgYAnj7BF9dwoxgoCr-RSmivCcFWORV97Z2TlA/s1600/12489381_1712220339022634_1556718151472523800_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="207" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVrKD8i1L79lWF1sOUMWfq9J74qg0oNmPA0gY8TaGcHn_Hlc436KUdh1gBIyoqN5cQQ3iVf3SFgdbM_3IpHfPSdbu2eWia7lCtxnG4_XgYAnj7BF9dwoxgoCr-RSmivCcFWORV97Z2TlA/s320/12489381_1712220339022634_1556718151472523800_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Missin´ that fresh Okie air,<br /><br />D<br />P.S. More Pictures can be found on my <a href="http://www.facebook.com/whatdanisees" target="_blank">Facebook Page</a>.</span></div>
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Simply Wild Photographyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08147058370903255945noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8872768257152223606.post-54326361654208483472015-12-17T16:05:00.002-06:002016-12-01T13:26:39.462-06:00Last days of 2015<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I always say it's been a while, but it's been a while. Quite a bit has changed. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Blueberry has found a new owner. And I gave away all of my bike gear...okay, so I kept a jacket and helmet (just in case). Life works in funny ways. My plans for Blue didn't pan out, but I believe the right option appeared. I have faith the new owner will take good care of Blue and vice versa. I hope they have many wonderful adventures! Blue was my therapy and my lifesaver. For that I will always be grateful.</span></span><br />
<b><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> It was time to pass the blessing on to someone else.</span></span></b><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br />What have I been up to? I wish I could say I've been riding and exploring, but it's the end of an era and I've been reflecting on my time in Lawton, OK. It's been something else. It's been frustrating. It's been crappy. It's been amusing. It's been wonderful. It's been thought provoking. It's been something else.<br /><br />Lawton, OK is the perfect place to figure out who you are. That much is for sure. So if that's where you're headed, I wish you all the best.<br /><br />Me? Well, I'm out of here. It's time for new adventures. Goodbye, Wan<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">derings of a Girl Ryder.</span></span></span><br />
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Simply Wild Photographyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08147058370903255945noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8872768257152223606.post-91204165463899972642015-02-06T17:03:00.001-06:002015-02-06T17:07:57.990-06:00February, oh my!<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Well, well, well. You know it's been forever when you cannot for the life of you remember your Google password. Yes, my friends, it's been way too long. Adventures have been had, but to recount them now wouldn't do them any justice. <br /><br />I can't believe it's 2015! Many exciting plans for this year. Hopefully many wonderful new adventures (and blog posts to share)! <br /><br />A throwback picture from 2011... Nothing's changed, but my boots and Blue's windscreen. Oh, and the addition of a ton of kitsch. I do love kitsch.</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDvfJyyEiHSGVZTQB-3exL3OTPzfGjIPFynMeNxs6XZS87prlztQ-JKCeOh4-36LZTjpCJkkrdqZ_Hmzi8-pEFiQZV5wlRGulXII53vcGHJBoGiR9Nt22YH6cC9_Q0ix_Sx6_mZQW-b4w/s1600/P1130770.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDvfJyyEiHSGVZTQB-3exL3OTPzfGjIPFynMeNxs6XZS87prlztQ-JKCeOh4-36LZTjpCJkkrdqZ_Hmzi8-pEFiQZV5wlRGulXII53vcGHJBoGiR9Nt22YH6cC9_Q0ix_Sx6_mZQW-b4w/s1600/P1130770.JPG" height="400" width="302" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thanks to the wonderful person who took the picture. You know who you are!</td></tr>
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Are you on Instagram? <complete id="goog_1299831632">@wanderingsofagirlryder -</complete>That's where my lazy blogging self has been these last few months. Some new and old pictures can be found there. <br />
<br />Simply Wild Photographyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08147058370903255945noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8872768257152223606.post-44079824068799177692014-07-12T19:11:00.001-05:002014-07-14T10:50:30.633-05:00Long time no update<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I've officially dubbed myself a motorcycle slacker. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">However, in my slacking time I've been contemplating riding destinations.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Three weeks of not having my bike in my garage has me seriously jonesing. As soon as Blueberry is back home, it's game on! Got some riding to catch up on.<br /><br />Meanwhile...</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMGGjSbN51dsEMZ1JjThBOtcFUuIcH-SsK4KZSzsjkIY2YoE_w3_M2-nDkPYI94sDf9Y-JaYIA2wSMysoQGVuMLBqDHkmk5wuzqscN1E3Bfjd-qBRHCgOCNDtAiJ1rjg_Ovw1cATSNzvw/s1600/P1120696.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMGGjSbN51dsEMZ1JjThBOtcFUuIcH-SsK4KZSzsjkIY2YoE_w3_M2-nDkPYI94sDf9Y-JaYIA2wSMysoQGVuMLBqDHkmk5wuzqscN1E3Bfjd-qBRHCgOCNDtAiJ1rjg_Ovw1cATSNzvw/s1600/P1120696.JPG" height="298" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yoga & coffee on the creek!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span>This blog is brought to you
by the lovely (biased opinion, we know) Stone Turtle – Lodging, a small family
owned and operated hotel / lodging business near Lawton, Oklahoma, Fort
Sill,<span> </span>the Wichita Mountains Wildlife
Refuge, Meers and Medicine Park. Yeah, that’s right we’re a small lodging
business close to all the awesomeness Oklahoma has to offer!!</span></span></div>
Simply Wild Photographyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08147058370903255945noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8872768257152223606.post-35847476425809587302014-05-24T07:34:00.000-05:002014-07-14T10:50:45.366-05:00Dirt Road Cruisin'<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">There's nothing better than a girl, her
motorcycle, and a cup of coffee. Okay, so it would be nice to be able to enjoy the coffee somewhere else besides the end of my drive
way, but hey, I know how to compromise...Occasionally. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">It was yet another gusty day in Oklahoma. My road the biggest mess yet, it was time to get out and away from the dust, construction, and tar. I grabbed my keys, camera, biscotti, hopped in the car and skidded out of my driveway. Luck was with me because there was still a tiny strip of gravel to coast on. Tar truck in my rear view mirror, it was time for an adventure. I pretended I was off in jolly ol' England as I drove down the wrong side of the road. Can't believe I forgot my tea.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">It was a dirt road kind of day. Dirt roads are awesome. You know, as long as you don't live on one or you have some off-road tires on your bike. These last couple of weeks, my road reminded me of the gravel road that leads to Loveland, OK. My luck, they must have just dumped an extra load of gravel when I had visited Loveland. I do believe those were the longest 5 miles of my life. It's kind of funny, because just when you think it can't possibly get any worse, the county proves you wrong on your own road. My road was worse than the road to Loveland. The town not the land of love, although it would be fitting for that road would be bumpy. Where was I? Oh, yeah. Dirt Roads. Awesome...because there's usually little traffic, old farm houses, and no one can fuss at you for driving like in England or hogging the road. Not that I would do either of those.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I coasted over to Apache and turned by the abandoned dairy barn or warehouse. That's when I found out that Apache is a lot bigger than I gave it credit for. Some pretty cool houses, not like those cookie-cutter houses taking over the world (suburbia and the country side). Speaking of Apache, they now have a coffee shop, that Cache Creek Coffee. Open Mon-Sat for all you coffee junkies in the Apache/Elgin area. I don't know how I managed to bypass it yet again. After I had even remembered to pack my biscotti.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Some of the dirt and gravel roads break Oklahoma's straight road standard. Going 25 mph really puts the world into perspective. Turkey waddle by, donkeys say hi, and you run across people who wander down the road picking wild sage. When I saw the donkeys (the plural ought to be changed to donki), the brakes were slammed. I donkey-whispered it up. The donkey life is hard, yo. Since I couldn't figure out how to fit a donkey in my car, the adventure continued. Graffiti was also found. Apparently there's a graffiti battle on a bridge somewhere out there about who the real savages are. So if you're a real savage, you might want to settle that dispute. And, if you're reading this, read some books and let's see some meaningful quotes. Not that I'm encouraging vandalism, but, hell, if you're already gonna do it, make it art. Think I'll have to leave some philosophy books at the bridge...should I ever find it again.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">There may not have been coffee, but I figured cruisin' down dirt roads with my windows down solicited a biscotti. It was officially a biscotti moment. For the law enforcement reading this, no I didn't blow through any small town stop signs...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Eventually I was somewhere I recognized. However, a double wide was being transported in front of me, so I just turned onto the next gravel road I found. It eventually turned into a red dirt road. Before I new it, I was sliding down a bumpy, steep, curvy hill. Half way down I saw a bunny and an awesome cactus (they're blooming by the way). With that no traffic thing, you almost don't have to look behind you when you stop on weird curvy, hilly roads. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Love that red dirt found north of Lawton. It's just beautiful! But, I've always had a thing for dirt. Probably the only relationship that's ever been mutual. Don't know how I always manage to get covered in mud. Probably ought to grow up and halt the mud fights.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Main Street in Fort Cobb was buzzing. The cafe was open, there was a town sale, and my time was running out. Cruised past the double-wide transporter stopped for lunch and/or rummaging, and hitched a left (the other left!) to Nowhere. Bought my flame-retardant juice and tried to hook my road tripping buddy up with a bumper sticker. They were all out. My constantly bringing touries out there has finally caused a shortage. However, you can still look at the stop sign without a road. What an attraction, right?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">So the whole point of my little adventure was to check out a theater in Carnegie I've been wanting to check out for years! Yeah, years. A while ago I heard that Carnegie was the home of the oldest running theater in Oklahoma. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">AH! Coffee flood! Thank God my computer appreciates coffee as much as I do. Anywho, this theater, the Liberty Theatre, was built in 1915! I know, I was amazed that OK had that kind of technology, too. They still have the original ticket booth, too. Even though, Main Street has some buildings which are abandoned, they still have this flare of the past, back when style was still important and metal shacks weren't considered classy. You can just see the ladies of the 40s and 50s walking down the sidewalk window shoppin' in their pencil skirts. There's this one little town I know of which consists of almost nothing but metal buildings. Taste took some weird turn for the worse over the years, I guess.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Yes, Carnegie was named after the industrialist Andrew Carnegie. I hope he was invited to the town-founding party. I've covered most of the highlights of Carnegie in Thursday's video, but just to recap: Awesome Main Street, Theater, Diner, Newspaper (printing since 1904!), Public Library, and Mural. I love seeing small towns which are still relatively self-sufficient. Where chains haven't pushed out small businesses only to close and force people to drive to the next town for groceries. I'm relatively new to all this social media...stuff. But, as I was browsing Twitter to see if Carnegie had a profile (some small towns do), the only thing I found having anything to do with Carnegie was a news story from February. I'll share it just because I thought it was amusing. Funny that you can be arrested for something in one state that's legal in another state. It's like visiting a different country. Although, this person probably would have experienced some issues elsewhere due to the place of consumption.<br /><br />The story just mentioned that the police department dispatcher in Carnegie was arrested. Ironic, right? This person was arrested for allegedly smoking pot while at work. I don't know about you, but I feel safe and well informed in the case of an emergency. "Chill out" usually is pretty good advice, though. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">For those of you who loved that 90 degree corner south of Carnegie on hwy 58, I hope you really leaned into it that last time you rode it because it is no more.<br /><br />I'll leave some pictures in a new Facebook Album!<br /></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span>This blog is brought to you
by the lovely (biased opinion, we know) Stone Turtle – Lodging, a small family
owned and operated hotel / lodging business near Lawton, Oklahoma, Fort
Sill,<span> </span>the Wichita Mountains Wildlife
Refuge, Meers and Medicine Park. Yeah, that’s right we’re a small lodging
business close to all the awesomeness Oklahoma has to offer!!</span></span>Simply Wild Photographyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08147058370903255945noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8872768257152223606.post-15672895344890134712014-05-05T10:13:00.000-05:002014-07-14T10:50:56.981-05:00It was just a day<br />
a little ways a way<br />
when Blueberry made quite a fray.<br />
I did as most would do<br />
Made many promises so<br />
I could have my way.<br />
I promised love and attention<br />
among much devotion<br />
if only we could have<br />
one last ride.<br />
<br />
A sprocket set, a shock, two tires,<br />
two brake pads, and a pulse generator<br />
were promised for later<br />
It still took some fork seals<br />
to seal the deal.<br />
<br />
Not to mention that drive chain. <br />
<br />
Blue agreed and off we went<br />
to leer at deer and zig zag<br />
through the wildlife. <br />
<br />
Our ride was done<br />
No problem was had.<br />
Not one single one.<br />
I rolled down the garage door<br />
with a tear in my eye<br />
while promising "I'll be back, dear."<br />
<br />
The weeks roll by,<br />
Life gets in the way<br />
County came by<br />
and took my road away.<br />
<br />
That gives me some time<br />
another week would be fine.<br />
A week goes by,<br />
nothing has changed.<br />
Two more fly by<br />
and still everything<br />
has remained the same. <br />
My road is still MIA<br />
I have yet to be back to my dear.<br />
<br />
The guilt is just too much<br />
I can stand it no longer. <br />
Plus, the weather is lovely;<br />
It would be such a great day<br />
for a ride.<br />
<br />
It's time to man up and go<br />
back to my dear<br />
Slowly I roll up the garage door<br />
and peek in an eye.<br />
"I'm sorry, dear."<br />
<br />
I roll Blueberry out<br />
into the light.<br />
Sun shines so bright <br />
it is quite a sight.<br />
There's blue paint<br />
under all that dust!<br />
<br />
The tool box is opened<br />
parts are hunted<br />
repair manual dust<br />
is set free with a puff<br />
<br />
Sprocket, the cat, administers<br />
advice from the corner<br />
Another peep out of her<br />
and she'll need a coroner <br />
Broom posted near<br />
should Roostzilla appear <br />
Tom Waits is crooning<br />
while Youtube is streaming<br />
repair for Blueberry, my dear.<br />
<br />
<br />
It was an easy job<br />
or so they said.<br />
I lay flummoxed on the<br />
cold floor, close to tears<br />
trying to think<br />
frustrated and greasy<br />
in need of a drink <br />
when Blueberry gave<br />
me a wink.<br />
<br />
It serves me right<br />
after weeks of neglect.<br />
Who was I to think<br />
it would be a fast<br />
and easy fix?<br />
<br />
My lesson was learned,<br />
promises shouldn't be made<br />
on a whim.<br />
<br />
For your dear will always<br />
know and make you pay<br />
because it's impolite to make<br />
promises you won't retain.<br />
<br />
For today, the battle is won.<br />
Dani zero, my dear one.<br />
It's back to life<br />
Back to my finals.<br />
Another week of neglect,<br />
how to gain respect?<br />
Maybe another white lie of<br />
"I'll be back, dear?"<br />
<br />
Signed,<br />
Wanderings of a Girl Ryder<br /><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span>This blog is brought to you
by the lovely (biased opinion, we know) Stone Turtle – Lodging, a small family
owned and operated hotel / lodging business near Lawton, Oklahoma, Fort
Sill,<span> </span>the Wichita Mountains Wildlife
Refuge, Meers and Medicine Park. Yeah, that’s right we’re a small lodging
business close to all the awesomeness Oklahoma has to offer!!</span></span>Simply Wild Photographyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08147058370903255945noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8872768257152223606.post-78916836338299649602014-04-10T09:24:00.000-05:002014-07-14T10:51:11.990-05:00Where's my road?<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">So it was lovely day. A day where one just had to pull out the motorcycle and go for a ride. Yup, the sun was shining, the birds were tweeting, and Blueberry was rolled out. Gear was put on and I was ready to rock and roll. <br /><br />It wasn't until I got to the end of my driveway when I realized that there would be no adventure to be had for there was no road to drive on. It done gone and left. I gazed at the rubble that was once my road with a broken heart. My driveway, and those of my neighbors, was blocked by busted pieces of road. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Isn't the county supposed to notify you when they decide to tear up your perfectly fine road? Like a letter stating: </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">"Dead Resident of the perfectly-fine road, </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Please don't have an emergency requiring hospitalization (or a life) on such and such day because you won't be able to leave until the cows come home.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Sincerely, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Those who love to waste tax-payers' money on tearing up perfectly fine roads."<br /><br />I mean, would that be too much to ask for? I now understand the incentive of a lifted pick-up truck with off-roading tires. Ah, I guess it's the world's way of telling me to get on those repairs. <br /><br /><br />Happy adventures, and send me a picture!<br /></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span>This blog is brought to you
by the lovely (biased opinion, we know) Stone Turtle – Lodging, a small family
owned and operated hotel / lodging business near Lawton, Oklahoma, Fort
Sill,<span> </span>the Wichita Mountains Wildlife
Refuge, Meers and Medicine Park. Yeah, that’s right we’re a small lodging
business close to all the awesomeness Oklahoma has to offer!!</span></span>Simply Wild Photographyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08147058370903255945noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8872768257152223606.post-1175870627789976432014-04-05T07:13:00.001-05:002014-07-14T10:51:23.187-05:00The closest call of them all<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Okay, so that's not entirely true, but I haven't experienced something like it yet. It was a lovely, windy, dusty evening in Oklahoma. And, I took my theoretically garaged Blueberry to school. As luck would have it, my class was canceled due to our classroom having been commandeered by some pay-to-be-in-it society. All those Phi Kappa Phi's and what not. So it was a sign in and split class. Just what I love to drive 25 miles to find out. As I was leaving, someone had started some little conversation that for some odd reason I felt the need to quip in. My two cents were given and not 20 seconds later I was out the door. It was kind of nice, the wind hadn't picked up to the 45 mph wind gusts and it was still light outside. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I made my way back to the interstate and took my spot on the inside turning lane where people, theoretically, are least likely to turn into your lane. Theoretically. I've had that happen a couple of times before. Not as often as when they're on the inside lane. Some people really need to learn how to drive. All of a sudden those hours and hours of driving school in Germany make sense, but I digress. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I sorted in behind a little Nissan and off to the interstate we go. And, off the winds were, too. Boy, I haven't ridden in such a gusty gale in a long time. A couple miles down, the car behind me starts to pass just where the speed limit increases. I was about to pass as well. But, as he passed me and the little Nissan, I noticed the deer in my peripheral vision coming from the right. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">It all happened so fast, and I have no idea how it all ended so well. I couldn't tell you all that happened other than that my focus was on reaction. That poor deer skipped in front of the Nissan and right into the car that had just passed us. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Car parts flew everywhere thanks to the wind gusts. And the deer, poor thing!, was airborne. I just remember thinking that it felt like I was in some redneck movie where some rednecks in lifted trucks zip through a yard taking out all the lawn decorations which are rashly ejected from their location. Years of close calls have prepared me well for what happened on Thursday. I was able to monitor debris, the car that hit the deer, the Nissan. It also dawned upon me that other deer might be on their way to the road. Sometimes my multitasking skills surprise me. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The deer (poor, poor thing) flew up at least 10 feet in the air in the left lane, and flew into my lane, over the Nissan, and into the ditch which would have been right next to me if I hadn't been paying attention. The Nissan and I pulled over, while cars that had been just slightly behind us all passed. We ran over to the the little black car to make sure the people in there were all right. Their car looked awful, but they were all well and that's all that mattered. The passenger received a major shock; Neither of them had seen what happened since the hood of their car popped up and was basically glued to the windshield. It could have been so much worse for all of us.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Yup, it was a close call. Both the Nissan and the hit car were shocked that I was still alive and well. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> Always being observant and swerving really are life savers. Luck sure was a lady. Having all your gear on really adds a little extra sense of security. I didn't have to include a worry session about skin grafting into my multitasking. And, honestly if I had been in a car, I'm not sure I would have been able to avoid everything as well. Being on a bike, when one is paying attention, gives you a whole lot of flexibility.</span> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">What shocked me and annoyed me, though, even though I have read about this phenomenon in many psychology textbooks, was that no one else pulled over to check if things were okay. And, we were passed by a whole lot of people. A whole lot. There was day light, so they saw how bad that car looked and not one iota of care was given. Sad.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I'm on the interstate at night on a regular basis, and I tend to see a lot of deer. Judging by how other drivers usually just whiz by, I'd say most people don't pay that much attention. On a similar note:</span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>A little less cell phone and a little more driving, people.</i></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Ah, my biggest pet peeve. Anywho...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">In other Wanderings of a Girl Ryder news, as some of you know, I've started a small video series on Youtube all about Oklahoma. Working title is "Oklahoma: It's not as bad as you think it is." As, I said, it's a working title. Maybe I'll change it to something more up-beat like "Oklahoma is awesome because..." Technicalities. Pictures for this video series can be found on <a href="http://www.facebook.com/wanderingsofagirlryder" target="_blank">Facebook</a>.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">As I was stumbling through yet another small cemetery, I met yet another unhappy dog. I seem to be the common factor in dogs' unhappiness. He was big and beautiful. And, not pleased.Of course, it wasn't a big deal until he was guarding my car and I wasn't allowed to touch it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">So I resorted to low threats; I threatened to sick my cats on him. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Looking forward to some wind free days (hahaha, I know) so Project (Color) Madness can continue. Speaking of which, even Medicine Park has gotten some color! I love being inspiring ;)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />For you riders, stay safe and continue to pay attention to the millions of things going on around you.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">And, for you drivers, do something considerate for your fellow drivers and put down the [I won't get explicit] phone. Thanks! Have an adventurous weekend!<br /></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span>This blog is brought to you
by the lovely (biased opinion, we know) Stone Turtle – Lodging, a small family
owned and operated hotel / lodging business near Lawton, Oklahoma, Fort
Sill,<span> </span>the Wichita Mountains Wildlife
Refuge, Meers and Medicine Park. Yeah, that’s right we’re a small lodging
business close to all the awesomeness Oklahoma has to offer!!</span></span>Simply Wild Photographyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08147058370903255945noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8872768257152223606.post-51559728261130315042014-03-22T21:24:00.002-05:002014-07-14T10:51:41.173-05:00Just a day in March<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Know thyself. I'm pretty sure that's a quote somewhere. Well, I do know myself. Knowing myself lets me know that my bike will probably be in the garage for a bit. With this bit of knowledge, I've decided that if I wait for me to get my bike fixed, it'll be a long couple of weeks. Although I have considered it, I will not be sitting in the lounge chair of my office browsing Google Earth while wearing my helmet. When life hands you motorcycle mechanical problems, take a car. Not the ideal situation, but a Plan B is better than no plan. Gotta love Plan B's. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Figures that I would trade one mechanical problem for another. My little adventure mobile, formerly known as the geek mobile, is making the oddest noises. It wouldn't be an adventure without a little suspense, right? Will the car blow up or won't it? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Some times life gets a little busy. Getting in an adventure of any sort these days has been a scheduling challenge. I hate having to schedule spontaneity. But, there I was scheduling my spontaneity for a Monday. There would be no work...except that it was a business trip. But, that was it. Who says business trips can't have detours? If you don't take detours, you don't see the occasional eagle chilling on a road post. Sure, some may argue it was a hawk. Who is to say that eagles can't chill on road markers? Were they there? No. So until someone hunts down that immature golden eagle and proves me wrong, it was an eagle. And, I'll swear it on someone's grave until that day. And, after that day because who is to say they found the same bird I saw. Ah, I do love a good debate - when the truth gets blurred and a poker face can get you far. Or maybe that's just when someone debates with me. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I know that probably goes without saying, but d</span>irt roads are so much easier in a car. My dirt road freedom has invoked the pact that all adventure destinations will be found using dirt roads only. Unless there are no dirt roads and I can't convince my car to turn into Wonder Woman mobile and dart me through the sky. Some days my negotiating skills with inanimate objects are worse than others. Pessimists might point out that dirt roads will kill my tires with nails that fall out of farm trucks. But, I just tell 'em that the glass is half full and life is so much more fun when one wears pink sunglasses. Nails in tires...like that's going to happen. And, I'm not even going to let the nail that was stuck in my tire this week prove their point. I'm pretty sure I picked that up on a paved road anyhow. Until someone shows me a GPS marker of where that nail was picked up, it's joining the eagle.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I found myself coasting on the back roads around a lake. No, not the one where bodies allegedly kept popping up. I think I found something more annoying. So there I was on a road that was supposed to lead to an equestrian club and a concession stand. Classy combo, right? Neither were found, but I was tailed by a dog who had his bit down damn well. A stretch of road that would take mere seconds to travel even with the 10 mph speed limit cost me a good half an hour. He'd start at the right corner of the car and circle to the rear. Clear time to hit the gas pedal. Before the thought could be processed and the foot could respond, he'd made his round and sped in front to the right corner again. I thought it was amusing. My business partner found it less amusing. So we progressed down the road one foot at a time one frustrated person, one annoyed dog, and one hysterically laughing person. It didn't help when I thought of the idea to honk the horn. Turned out the dog didn't like that at all. It actually gave him a dose of refreshed energy. After 30 minutes, thirty foot of road, and a gazillion rounds around the car, he lost interest. Just like that. I was slightly disappointed to be dropped like a hot potato for a stupid tree. This would have never happened had he been a cat.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiHjmwWaw0fZD4lJ-eP5TSA34XScFt2f844ZIcKhlcAduIgbtUzVjJb5Qxg3yScqHw2BkZ8feTtMsazcuHcsA4kMwEdLC3K4-fa9ve1K98zlFFFjdul-qLHzkqOB6T4taLb1SP9jwJOcc/s1600/DSC_5771.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiHjmwWaw0fZD4lJ-eP5TSA34XScFt2f844ZIcKhlcAduIgbtUzVjJb5Qxg3yScqHw2BkZ8feTtMsazcuHcsA4kMwEdLC3K4-fa9ve1K98zlFFFjdul-qLHzkqOB6T4taLb1SP9jwJOcc/s1600/DSC_5771.JPG" height="265" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Another plus of taking the car, I can listen to belly dancer/swing dancing singer Sparrow and pieces by Vivaldi and Haydn.Yeah, it didn't really make the whole car thing sound better in my head either.</span><br />
<br /><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span>This blog is brought to you
by the lovely (biased opinion, we know) Stone Turtle – Lodging, a small family
owned and operated hotel / lodging business near Lawton, Oklahoma, Fort
Sill,<span> </span>the Wichita Mountains Wildlife
Refuge, Meers and Medicine Park. Yeah, that’s right we’re a small lodging
business close to all the awesomeness Oklahoma has to offer!!</span></span>Simply Wild Photographyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08147058370903255945noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8872768257152223606.post-55259086570370946172014-03-08T13:01:00.000-06:002014-03-08T15:12:48.279-06:00First Video Post Ever<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/pEV7svUaFmY" width="459"></iframe>Simply Wild Photographyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08147058370903255945noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8872768257152223606.post-77769924860181515562014-02-22T08:25:00.000-06:002014-07-14T10:52:19.816-05:00A Small Trip Down Memory Lane<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As I was scrolling through the few files saved from my hard drive...the one with seven years worth of pictures that are now all gone...I came across this picture of me on my 1st bike. Ah, the old FZR. The frustrating times we had. I do, however, fondly remember learning to ride. Zipping through my yard, dust flying. Occasionally taking a grassy turn a tad to fast and skidding through the dust and grass on my back (sometime stomach) shortly followed by my bike, dust and grass also flying. *sigh* Those were the days...before power outages while traveling on the interstate and lights constantly drooping to the ground underneath the bike. That reserve tank was pretty handy, too.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Throwback Thursday...two days late. WeverTF Throwback Thursday is...</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Blueberry finally got an oil change! As I lay on the ground one foot clenched to the seat the other pushing against the rear tire while I tried prying off the baked on oil filter I realized that consistency isn't one of my mechanical strong points. Either I'm getting weaker or my bike is getting stronger. After much pleading, begging, apologizing, and a few explicit terms, the oil filter was finally in my oily hands. When it comes to mechanical and painting hobbies, I've learned that oil and paint are magnetically drawn to me. There is no staying clean. It goes against gravity. Nice to know the universe thought of me while planning out universal laws. Somewhere in between the begging and pleading, probably during the sobbing, I noticed just how much TLC Blue needs. After a couple of rides throughout the week, Blue has been retired to the garage until things get done. *blubbering* On the bright side, I now have an excuse to buy a couple of tools I've been wanting for a while.<br /><br />So after the five stages of grieving were done, Blueberry and I went to check out an old cemetery on the other side of the Wichita Mountains. I think only a few people know my fascination with old country cemeteries. Well, until now. So anywho, there I was cruising down a dirt road with bumps (those were consistent) the size of surfable waves going somewhere under 10 mph being passed by ratty old farm trucks. Okay, so it was only one ratty old farm truck, but one was enough. I probably could have pushed Blueberry faster. Hm, there's that hindsight again. I was surprised by the cobblestone gate some community members had taken the time to construct. Wind chimes were hanging in the cemetery. Next to the cemetery in Cement which houses a car cemetery right next door, this was the best country cemetery. How nice to have a resting place in such a peaceful setting with such an amazing view of the Wichitas. Speaking of cemeteries, there's one in OK somewhere that states the woman was killed by werewolves or something creepy like that. I think that one and the grave of the horse which played Mister Ed are going to be worth the trip. Moving on to less creepy things...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Lately my rides have been limited to the Wichita Mountains and to school. I'm at the point, schedule wise, that 50 miles is 50 mile no matter if there's a pesky class in between. But, when you're riding around at 10 PM and you tend to freeze to death when temps drop below 65 degrees, 50 miles feels like 50 miles. You don't realize just how airy summer gloves are until you're wearing summer gloves at 10 PM in 30 something degrees because you couldn't find your winter ones. At that point, 50 miles sure does seem like 50 miles. Thankful all my fingers and toes are still functioning. It did make me wonder just how I survived without proper riding gear all those years. Mind over matter, I'm assuming.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In other nonrelated news, I've been working on my other blog <a href="http://stoneturtlelodging.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Beauty in Oklahoma</a>. If you're interested in local type stuff and all that jazz, check that out. I'll probably be focusing on it a little more while Blueberry is grounded. You'll probably read about my DIY mechanical adventures. Not sure I'm ready for those. Wish me luck and no extra parts.<br /> Fasching is here once again! It's already been another year! I've been offered another short belly dancing spot in the Fasching schedule. Super excited to be part of the 2nd annual Fasching event hosted at Mutti's German Restaurant. Well, I probably ought to go practice my routine considering the Fasching party is tonight. <br /><br />Until next time, keep calm and ride on!<br /><br /><br />WGR</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span>This blog is brought to you
by the lovely (biased opinion, we know) Stone Turtle – Lodging, a small family
owned and operated hotel / lodging business near Lawton, Oklahoma, Fort
Sill,<span> </span>the Wichita Mountains Wildlife
Refuge, Meers and Medicine Park. Yeah, that’s right we’re a small lodging
business close to all the awesomeness Oklahoma has to offer!!</span></span>Simply Wild Photographyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08147058370903255945noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8872768257152223606.post-11042560379019771792014-02-15T10:13:00.000-06:002014-02-15T10:13:17.216-06:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Have a great weekend, y'all! Blueberry and I have a riding date! And, an oil change date.</span></div>
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<br />Simply Wild Photographyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08147058370903255945noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8872768257152223606.post-16750663095121225402014-02-06T09:09:00.003-06:002014-07-14T10:52:41.474-05:00Summer Lovin', 'cause winter blues just sounds sad<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">An ode to summer:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">O, summer! How fair thee were,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Thy nights so fine</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Sky starry lined.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Thy days so toasty warm</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">That sweat rolling in my eye</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Did lest dull my love for thee.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Nor sweat drenched hair </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Which clung to my lid. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Visor up, my steed and I</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Would ride</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Yonder fields sweet wildflowers bloom</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Where buffalo charge</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">And longhorns chase</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">On long straight roads</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The heat would rise </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">And melt my toes</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">As we ride</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The paths of travel</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">are empty</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">For</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Few souls brave</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Thy love</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">But those knights</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">in leather armor</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Ah, and the pages</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">In their gear</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Of Oakley shades</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">And flipper-floppers</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The water pack </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">melted to my back </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I sip something weird</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Which chemical is that?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Water line gone awry, my steed and I</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">are freshly bathed</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Thy gusty gale dries us out</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">With a lovely coat</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">of good ol' red dirt.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Thy scorching heat simmers up</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Thy heat waves drift about</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Causing my steed</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">To get all hot and bothered</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">As it overheats</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">We arrive a detour later</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">In thy gracious presence</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">All disheveled</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">How you move us so </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I touch my skin</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">It's aglow ten shades darker</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Forty degrees warmer</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I rip my lid from my head</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">It's been transformed;</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">A ten gallon cowboy hat </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Full of salty water</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Evaporated before it graces</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The sizzling pavement</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Upon dismount</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">my riding boots are locked</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">in passion with the tar</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Yet thee tease </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">My sweat drenched hair and gear</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">thee refuse to dry</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Alas, then thou leaves!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">After all we've had!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The sweet smiles and laughs,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The ten pounds lost in thy sauna</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The tan lines no one understands</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The kittens in my pack</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">And sweat stains on my back</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">You disappear into the night</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Not a word nor a gusty hot gale</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">to kiss my cheek one last time</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">But, what's this I see?!?<br /><br />SNOW!</span><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">O, summer! How I miss thee so</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Please</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Come back to me </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">--Truly Yours,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Wanderings of a Girl Ryder <br /></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span>This blog is brought to you
by the lovely (biased opinion, we know) Stone Turtle – Lodging, a small family
owned and operated hotel / lodging business near Lawton, Oklahoma, Fort
Sill,<span> </span>the Wichita Mountains Wildlife
Refuge, Meers and Medicine Park. Yeah, that’s right we’re a small lodging
business close to all the awesomeness Oklahoma has to offer!!</span></span>Simply Wild Photographyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08147058370903255945noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8872768257152223606.post-54125841739715371822014-01-25T07:18:00.000-06:002014-07-14T10:53:00.522-05:00Because who laughs these days?<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It's been another glorious week filled with adventure, laughter, and paint. The weather has been toying with my emotions, dragging my warm-weather loving heart through the dust of Oklahoma. I guess that's what they made winter gear for, right? I probably should have skipped the holiday chocolates. Since October. Maybe I could fit another layer under my gear if I had. C'est la vie, at least the chocolate was good. So last weekend I had the awesome pleasure of riding out to the refuge to go hiking with a happy group. I love happy people! There aren't too many happy people. Have you noticed? Seriously, participate in my little experiment. When ever you're out and about cruising through town, on the highway, in the store, on the beach, wherever, look around at the people you see. Most people have a frown plastered on their face. Wow, that saying "Your face will freeze like that," seems to be true, or maybe it's just a self-fulfilling prophecy. Get ready, get set, observe. Oh, and remember that observing isn't staring or stalking.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The Wichita Mountains Wildlife Refuge always fascinates me. It doesn't matter where I travel to, I always realize just how special my little corner of Oklahoma is (...In my own little corner, in my own little world...). Not saying that the mountains in Cali or the Alps aren't bad-ass, but the Wichitas have their own special flare. The nice, day-long hike brought us into uncharted territory for me. It's funny, the places one comes across without ever expecting it. A person can look upon an area of land for years and the mind estimates what it's probably like. Finally when one wanders through, it's completely different. Who'da (Who'd a) thunk? Vernacular grammar drives me insane. My obsession of climbing things only got me separated from the group once. Half an hour of seeing no one. No big deal...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The best part was that Blueberry was still standing, dirt parking lot, wind and all. Life is good.<br /><br />The following day consisted of road tripping. I do love road trips! All the wonderful things one sees when one's just randomly driving about. I had the tip of checking out Freedom, OK from one of my readers. So that's where I happened to find myself, by chance, actually. FYI, if you go to Freedom, eat before since the only diner closes at 2 or 3 pm. Barely made it! The tiny downtown is right out of an old western movie. Saloon and all. The diner is also the town's motel. Warning, don't expect a room during a town festival or travel season; they only have two rooms. Beef, wheat, and salt are what the town was built on. Maybe even literally. My favorite part of visiting Freedom? The old jail! A jail in Freedom. Oh, the irony. The people, however, seem festive, though. Saw two cedar trees decorated for Christmas in the middle of nowhere. <br /><br /><br />On an unrelated note, I'm completely jealous that the college campus in Alva is 10x nicer than the one in Lawton. Okay, maybe 5.5x nicer.<br /><br /><br />So I'll stop my ramblings and leave you with a social reflection I've been mulling over this past week:<br /> A little while ago, I was road tripping with some friends. We were strolling down the streets of a ginormous city late one night (a city that actually has a night life) laughing, conversing, and having a good time. We turned down a side street to check out a mural still laughing and talking. A man passes us. Upon reflection, a perfect case study for the happiness level experiment. We're minding our own business, when he turns around in a huff and asks us what's so funny and why we were laughing at him.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Vain. Table for one.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">At the time, I just thought how sad it was that people can be so involved in their own lives to think that the world revolves around them. It's a common human trait, but to such an extent to accuse complete strangers in a confrontational manner, was something else. After explaining to this man that it had absolutely nothing to do with him, I dealt with the idea that such confrontation can often go wrong and how vain people can be.<br /><br />Today, I find it sad that people are so unhappy that they find laughter and smiling to be strange. The world we have created. Yes, I know, the world is full of sad moments, hate, and crazy,shocking happenings. But, the world is also full of beauty, happiness, and good people. I choose to see the beauty in the world. What do you choose to see in the world? What do you choose to be in this world?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Pictures from the Wichitas, Freedom, and whatever else are on Facebook.<br /></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span>This blog is brought to you
by the lovely (biased opinion, we know) Stone Turtle – Lodging, a small family
owned and operated hotel / lodging business near Lawton, Oklahoma, Fort
Sill,<span> </span>the Wichita Mountains Wildlife
Refuge, Meers and Medicine Park. Yeah, that’s right we’re a small lodging
business close to all the awesomeness Oklahoma has to offer!!</span></span>Simply Wild Photographyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08147058370903255945noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8872768257152223606.post-53581815841180054832014-01-21T11:41:00.001-06:002014-01-21T11:41:36.844-06:00Another Amazing Year<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Hello, 2014! And, hello lovely readers!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Looking back on 2013, it was an amazing year filled with many wonderful people and impressions. November and December are a blur, but the year ended and started with many adventures (some with Blueberry and some without) and good times. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So my first thoughts for 2014, besides the never-ending, fun, work related stuff, include the following:<br /><br />1. Possible riding destinations. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">2. Blueberry TLC. <br /><br /> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In the past, I've just been randomly exploring small towns and different locations. We're doing things a little differently this year. I'm thinking themes! So the following themes will possibly become my obsession this year: geocaching (geocaching motorcycle adventures!), doors, and mailboxes. Yep, the photographing nut in me has developed a crush on doors and mailboxes. Soooo....suggestions? Tell me about some awesome doors and/or mailboxes!<br /><br />Besides being my longest, and best, relationship, Blueberry has been a God-send these past years. From learning to be a better rider and driver, having Blueberry has honed my ability to see small details (and in record time) while providing many interesting adventures. It's high time I paid back. <br /><br />What are your riding plans for 2014? Tell me about one place you'd really love to check out this year; I'd love to hear about it!</span>Simply Wild Photographyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08147058370903255945noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8872768257152223606.post-26961499725543247992013-11-27T07:33:00.000-06:002013-11-27T07:33:35.132-06:00Baby, It's Cold Outside 2013<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And, inside, too. Hence so few updates. I've been battling a never ending cold for the past month. It has, however, given me some time to pull all my winter gear out of the closet. It was a hard job finding those winter gloves, let me tell you! I've been out a little bit, cold and all, and I couldn't help but wonder how I survived two winters with out any decent wintery motorcycle gear. Where there's a will there's a way.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Blueberry is patiently waiting for me to change some oil. Sounds like a great Thanksgiving day project; Show some thanks to my faithful companion. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It turns out that I don't have the best luck when it comes to technology. I plugged a hard drive containing seven years' worth of pictures from random motorcycle</span>/<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">life adventures only to find that there's nothing there anymore. It be kaput. Drat. It didn't take a lot of brainstorming to find a silver lining. Perfect (legitimate) excuse for some extra motorcycle riding! Therefore, I'm not bummed at all.<br /><br />Speaking of trips, I'm scouting out different adventures for the rest of 2013 and for 2014. Any small Oklahoma towns of interest? Any small towns with a salacious past? Would love some suggestions! <br /><br />So Project (Color) Madness has been a hiatus as you've probably noticed through lack of pictures on Wanderings of Girl Ryder Facebook page. No more! I've got some new victims! And, a lot of new ideas. So stay tuned as Stone Turtle Ranch Lodging enters into Project (Color) Madness part II. <br /><br />Besides spending a lot of time creating a Honey Do list for myself (that's time consuming seeing as the list just keeps growing. Yikes), I've also picked up the hobby of reading. Mighty fine considering I can barely navigate through my living quarters without bumping into books and motorcycle stuff. Even found one of my Keith Code books! Motorcycle + Book = Can't get much better especially if there's coffee involved.<br /><br />I hope all y'all have an awesome, safe Thanksgiving holiday! Remember that EVERY day is a good day to be thankful!</span>Simply Wild Photographyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08147058370903255945noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8872768257152223606.post-13738988113739582862013-10-28T10:21:00.004-05:002014-07-14T10:53:20.453-05:00Driving Miss Daisy on the Extra Sunday<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Sunday's alright for driving. Yup, as a matter of fact, Sunday's alright for playing Miss Daisy. And, who would want to miss out on the conversation gems like extra Sundays, theories about ghost towns, missing windmills, and those friendly shotgun wielding Oklahoma folk? Not this rider, especially when I get to be a backseat driver. I, therefore, volunteered to be Miss Daisy. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><strike>My old...er companions</strike> I mean the lovely ladies I accompanied talked about the concept of an extra Sunday. Apparently when you get to a certain age and lifestyle, days blend together and Saturdays turn into odd Sundays. Odd because nothing that usually happens on Sundays happens. What actually does happen on Sundays? I mean Donut shops still make donuts, coffee shops are still open (if we had any), and Wal-Mart still rolls back prices and rolls small shops out of the market. Of course, it comes as a nice surprise (or maybe a bad surprise if one had plans on the first Sunday) when one wakes up on the actual Sunday to realize there's an extra Sunday to enjoy. Or maybe it's a pre-Monday. A Monday everyone can love. A Monday where people can go have fun on their motorcycles enjoying nature...while polluting it. Hm, let me rephrase that. A Monday where people can take their motorcycles for a ride to nature and go hiking while picking up other people's trash. You'd be amazed which holes I've been in where there have been beer bottles and leftover gatorade bottles. Really people? The water bottles are much lighter to carry back when they're empty. But, I digress. It's nice that some people can blame having extra Sundays on memory problems that come with old age, but how do I get to write it off? Something to ponder on my extra Sunday.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">For years, I've been wanting to do Ellenbrook's refuge tour partially explained in a book called<span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"></span></span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"> <i>Outdoor and Trail Guide to the Wichita Mountains of Southwest Oklahoma</i>
complete with a map featuring a little sombrero-wearing dude riding a
donkey. If that doesn't add credibility to the adventure factor, then
what would? I'm all about turning left at the cactus...until you find
out that the cactus that was there in the 1970s isn't there anymore.
Bummer. </span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Skeptical was my middle name when prepping for this tour. Especially after reading the route description. A tiny paragraph (I'm talkin' a two sentence paragraph) covered 75 miles of travel all on dirt roads. I thought the directions were sucky to say the least. Based on the route the donkey was on and GoogleMaps, I pieced together what I thought an accurate route description. I probably shouldn't make fun of Ellenbrook's sucky directions since I beat his sparse paragraph with a post-it note. Unfortunately, the ladies who were driving Miss Daisy had even less faith in my post-it note and brought a GPS. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">"Where's y'all's sense of adventure?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">"It's out for pie."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Hmph. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Cruising the back roads of Oklahoma made Ellenbrook's sucky directions not so sucky all of a sudden while stopping next to thousands of sun flowers...then again those weren't mentioned in the map. The Post-it Note directions worked well...with the GPS. Turns out street signs aren't really used out in the boonies. And, if they are, it's for target practice.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">75 miles and only one car seen. We passed more cattle on the road than cars. I warned #333 and #273 of their fate, pleading with them to stage a revolt and run before it was too late. Not sure they believed my facts to be on the level. Cows. P</span><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">eople told me I lived in the sticks. I was tempted to offer a trade at one of the ranches. Figure I'd go back once I've found a nice way to market a neighbor who moves mailboxes at night.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">This adventure gets travelers the closest they'll ever get (without trespassing) to Baker's Peak and Cutthroat Gap. Story time, yo: </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Cutthroat Gap is located next to Cut-Off Head Mountain. One leads to the other, I guess. In the spring of 1833, Kiowa warriors were off on a raiding mission. The remaining (mostly women, children, and the old) were attacked by the Osage tribe. The Osage unmercifully killed most of the Kiowas who were camped in the valley. The heads of the dead were cut off and placed in brass buckets throughout the camp. There's a nice surprise when one's looking for a cup of sugar. Among the dead was a chief who had led a war party attack earlier in the year on traders coming back from Santa Fe. They do say Karma is a bitch. From this raid on traders, the Kiowas allegedly stole silver coins ($10,000 worth back then). Legend has it that coins were still popping up in Cutthroat Gap years after the massacre.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Moving on a couple years, Baker's Peak gets its name from PFC Baker who was on a scouting mission from Camp Radziminski (historical marker picture from blog post <a href="http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.266185923509294.60938.235680366559850&type=1&l=210cf3a2b3" target="_blank">Cold Springs...sort of</a>) with another scout in 1859. The story goes that they found themselves surrounded by 200 Comanche and Kiowa warriors. Baker's companion was killed, and Baker sought refuge on higher ground (isn't that a Star Wars concept?) In a battle that lasted two days, Baker is said to have killed over 80 Native Americans. He was rescued by a search party from Camp Radziminski. 1 vs 200 sounds somewhat like an exaggerated bar story for the guys. I wasn't there, so I'll just give him the benefit of the doubt. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Ellenbrook's map went well (with the Post-It and GPS) until the water tower. Not to be seen were (possibly) the Taylor Ranch house, an old wooden windmill, a natural spring, and cemetery (I do love cemeteries!). Maybe they all got sucked into the Twilight Zone since Ellenbrook's excursion in the 1970s. Someone should have sucked the map up, too. Utterly confused about where the hell we were on Ellenbrook's map we trekked on. I now have Googlemaps homework. Does Googlemaps cover the Twilight Zone? It's Google, I'm sure it does. <br /><br />Gorgeous Oklahoma scenery on the tour. Worth the trip even if the windmill, spring, and cemetery can't be found. Sucky directions and all, Ellenbrook's book is highly valued in my personal library with all of its trail recommendations and area history. I'll upload my Post-It note to the <a href="http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.403515529776332.1073741835.235680366559850&type=1&l=a62898c1bd" target="_blank">Facebook album</a>. Happy pre-Tuesday!<br /></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span>This blog is brought to you
by the lovely (biased opinion, we know) Stone Turtle – Lodging, a small family
owned and operated hotel / lodging business near Lawton, Oklahoma, Fort
Sill,<span> </span>the Wichita Mountains Wildlife
Refuge, Meers and Medicine Park. Yeah, that’s right we’re a small lodging
business close to all the awesomeness Oklahoma has to offer!!</span></span>Simply Wild Photographyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08147058370903255945noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8872768257152223606.post-22194593893421060812013-10-02T07:55:00.001-05:002014-07-14T10:53:36.769-05:00Stop the car!<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I recently went on a short Oklahoma road trip with some friends. Since there were so many of us without motorcycles, one of my friend's was nice enough to drive (car= hello dirt roads!). However, that doesn't stop me from making fun of my friend's car or his driving. Yeah, I'm a bad passenger driver; I just have to much fun riding shotgun. I think he had fair warning from previous trips that what happened would happen. While driving, I always tell him the cool things that we could stuff in the huge trunk of his car.<br /><br /><br />"Hey! That cute, white donkey with black spots would fit in the trunk of your car! Let's go borrow him!" </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Of course, we couldn't just put a donkey in his car's trunk...at least not without a companion. I'm pretty sure we could fit at least three little donkeys in the trunk of his car. Or, one little donkey, one llama, and a miniature cow or maybe just a cat. Anyhow, there's a lot of room in his car.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">As we're coasting down a dirt road somewhere in Oklahoma, my eyes scanning the dusty tree/fence line still hoping to see a camel or an owl (I'm not picky) and counting beer cans laying in the ditch, I spot something I've been hoping to find. <br /><br />"Stop the car!"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Brake response on the first shout, I was impressed. Better than other riders,drivers, and old...er people I know.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">"What's going..." But I didn't hear the rest of my friend's question for </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I scrambled out of the car and hopped into the dry creek bed on his side of the car. The only thing my friends could do fast enough was slide their attention from the right side of the car to the left side where I was busy. Amongst someone's household goods (if anyone needs a cheap coffee table and other furniture, let me know...), was a spool for wire commonly used in utility profession. I risked bug and spider bites to pick it up, drag it out of the creek, and examine its condition.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Looked good. Meanwhile, my friends were staring at me out of the car windows wondering what in the world I was doing. I smiled back all excited and charming. Although my charming smile probably looked more mischievous than anything else. I really need to work on that. I waved for my driver to come over to the creek.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">"This," I said pointing to my newly found treasure, "would fit nicely in the trunk of your car."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Silence.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">"It's cleaner than a donkey."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Silence</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">*Big Puppy Dog Eyes*<br /><br />"Pretty please."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">And so my new addition to Project (Color) Madness was loaded into the trunk of my friend's car for the duration of the road trip. It has since received a nice coat of paint and is my new coffee table on the porch. To think if I hadn't scrambled into the creek, I would have never seen the lucky horse shoe left in the cement creek barricade. Lucky for me; not so lucky for my driver. Probably the last time he'll drive for fear that next time it will be a donkey.<br /></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span>This blog is brought to you
by the lovely (biased opinion, we know) Stone Turtle – Lodging, a small family
owned and operated hotel / lodging business near Lawton, Oklahoma, Fort
Sill,<span> </span>the Wichita Mountains Wildlife
Refuge, Meers and Medicine Park. Yeah, that’s right we’re a small lodging
business close to all the awesomeness Oklahoma has to offer!!</span></span>Simply Wild Photographyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08147058370903255945noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8872768257152223606.post-2076256575375403012013-09-30T10:54:00.002-05:002014-07-14T10:53:56.258-05:00When GoogleMaps doesn't plan the ride<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">September 14th had finally arrived. I'd been waiting for this day for a long while. Of course plans changed, as they often do, but that wasn't about to keep me from riding on a day I painstakingly removed myself from my work schedule. Ah, the challenges of self-employment: guilt of taking time off. I was slightly pacified when I realized that I wouldn't be able to continue Project (Color) Madness due to lack of color. Yup, I had forgotten to buy some more paint. Maybe forgotten isn't the right term. More like I couldn't decide which colors I wanted to buy. So many colorful options. Maybe I'll go for Pumpkin and Martian after all. Who names these colors? Where was I? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Somewhere along the route planning process I took a detour over to the familiar destination Procrastination. It really is a homy, cozy place where I feel right at home. Two minutes before I left, I remembered that I had no idea where I was going. I browsed through Google Maps as I laced up my pink shoelaces, remembered the road that was supposed to be Route 66 and called it good.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">As I was waiting for my friend and his tag along, I remembered what I neglected to add to my application; a warning stating that I have a 5 minute wait policy. Although, I don't mind waiting a little longer for people who I know are coming so it wasn't that big of a deal. I had brought a book for just such a reason. Unfortunately, I brought one of E.M. Forster's books and I have the hardest time getting into his work. So reading short snippets (20 minutes) leaves me feeling confused and frustrated. The perfect way to start a ride. I should have brought the book on Buddhism. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Longer Saturday rides have been somewhat unorthodox in my life lately. It was nice to be able to cruise through small-town Oklahoma and see life for once. For once in a long while, I didn't feel as though I were a character in the Twilight Zone. If there's one thing I love observing, it's small-town life. We rode through Cement where the town folks were congregating at the gas station and car wash maybe catching up on the weekly happenings. Much nicer than Cyril where all we saw was the police officer waiting for some action. Cyril was kind of dead. Apparently they didn't get the notice that that's only allowed on Sundays. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Riding through Pocasset, I really didn't feel the urge to stop. I was actually a little confused because I couldn't for the life of me remember there being a Pocasset the last time I was on that road. According to my research, the highest population the little town of Pocasset has seen is 350 and that was many moons ago. The only building of potential interest to me was demolished in the 60s. How mean is that, the internet starts flaunting how cool the Minter Brothers Building was only to tell you at the very end that it's no longer there. What good does that do me? The gas station we passed was quite old. It looked like it should have been demoed in the 60s. A couple of gentlemen were standing and sitting around the gas pump shooting the breeze. I could almost hear them voice their concerns over the crops and their chuckles drift into the breeze of the chilly September morning. One of the younger men, gave us a nice wave; I recognize another rider when I see one. We left the town folk of Pocasset to their Saturday morning meeting.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">When we finally got to a town I remembered as existing, we pulled over after passing some awesome smelling diners and a donut shop with the name of Paradise something or other. They weren't lying, that shop smelled like paradise. I can't explain why I didn't stop for a coffee and a donut. Sitting on Main Street in Minco was exciting. At least for me. My company didn't seem to find Main Street quite as fascinating as I did. Now, Minco's main street isn't something I'd write home about, although I guess I kind of am at the moment, but it's still full of life and energy. The small boutiques and antique shops were all open. They all had some of their merchandise displayed on the sidewalks with their doors propped open to let the cool, fresh-smelling breeze drift in to their stores.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Things I didn't know about Minco: the town was named after a great Chickasaw chief, </span><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Itawamba Minco. Minco had school, El Meta Bond College, from the 1890s to the 1920s. Meta Chestnut founded the school, which offered classes ranging from elementary to high school, determined to bring education to the frontier. Unfortunately the lovely school building was also dismantled. Minco even has a small museum on Main Street across from the Coffee Cup Cafe (that's my kind of cafe). The museum's not open every day so it'd be a smart idea to call and make an appointment (405-352-4480). The small town offered attractions such as polo and corn festivals back in the day. Polo in Minco, who would have thought? The town still hosts an <a href="http://www.minco-ok.com/minco/festival.htm" target="_blank">annual honey festival</a>. The 22nd festival is coming up this year. Judging by the last year's festival, I'm gonna assume 2013's festival will also be in December. The festival has grown over the years from nine booths to over 90. They have many crafters and made in Oklahoma products. I know what I'm doing in December. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Cruising past Minco through the hay fields, not literally of course - I'm not sure Blueberry would forgive me for such an off-roading adventure. The smell of freshly cut and baled hay filled the air. All my two minutes of map reading were doing pretty well until we reached El Reno where I wasn't sure which direction to go. Last minute lane change paid off, though. And, we found our way to <strike>downtown </strike>historic downtown El Reno. Since we hadn't really used the 30 minute random stop cushion I built in, we had some time to kill. Which I found great, and others found not so great. Strolling the streets by my lonesome, I came across many interesting shops and murals. I'm not sure which I liked best: the shop names, the decorations, or the creepy cats who looked at passersby from the shop windows. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The GoogleMap imprint in my mind had started to fade, and since one of my friends had already been to Okarche, I let him take the lead.Upon leaving El Reno we cruised through the housing area surrounding downtown. At a four-way stop, I paused distracted (as always) by a building I spotted tucked around a corner. Meanwhile one of the riders continued on to the main road much to the amusement of two mean looking little Chihuahua-mutt gangsters who were monitoring the situation.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">"Are those strangers on our beat, Bugsy?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">"Yeah, boss! yeah, boss!"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">"Nobody comes through our place, see? This ain't the highway, see?" </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">"Lemme at 'em, boss! Ooh, lemme at 'em!"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">"Get rid of 'em, Bugsy."</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I'm not fluent in Chihuahua gangster, but I think that's a pretty accurate translation </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The alpha male had his <span style="color: white;"><span style="background-color: black;">crony do his dirty work. This is where we experienced t</span></span>he potential wrath of the one-eyed dog and his sidekick. The hyper little dog "Yes, boss'd" the one-eyed dog and excitedly chased the Buell down the road. All the way to the next stop sign. Meanwhile the boss gave the rest of us "the eye" as we waited to see the fate of the Buell. Now I've seen a lot of different scare tactics in my day, but I think that was the scariest one yet. The rest of us sat back and watched with amusement as the excited, dim-witted crony skitted right and left barking excitedly behind the Buell. I was tempted to just turn towards the cool looking warehouse, but I thought it'd would have been a little unfair to send one rider through Chihuahua territory. So if one person jumps off the bridge, we all do. It sounds idiotic in hindsight. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">All was then quiet and it was time for the rest of us to test the Chihuahua water. I slowly cruised by the evil-eye-giving boss and his crony expecting the same frantic welcome. Not an ounce of interest was given; </span><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I'll admit I was slightly disappointed.</span> I guess Chihuahuas only dislike Harleys. We left the boss and his little sidekick to the mean street life of El Reno. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I have renamed (for the time being) Okarche the City of Dying Crickets. Enough said about that. Then again: I thought the name maybe came from the fact that there might have been an oak arch somewhere at sometime and the folks just couldn't spell, but the name comes from the words </span><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Oklahoma, Arapaho, and Cheyenne. You figure it out. Okarche had such a large German population that German was the official language in some churches and businesses. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Eischen's.The main reason for our ride. It's the oldest establishment in Oklahoma which is about as far as I read on whatever material of propaganda I learned of Eischen's which is probably why I missed the part where they only serve fried chicken. No burger and fries for this girl. No silverware and plates, either. It felt a little like I was eating at home and trying to skip the need for a dishwasher. But, give me some fried okra and some pickles and I'm easily assuaged. I was a little alarmed at just how many people like to eat without utensils as the oldest establishment in Oklahoma in a town of millions of dead crickets was pretty full. The serving sizes are decent, and I was able to pack some fried okra and pickles for a road trip snack. Didn't spend a whole lot of time in Okarche due to not wanting to face the wrath of the crickets. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">All I could remember of the GoogleMaps directions was to take some horizontal on the map road out of El Reno, and turn off to the right on a county road before I-40. Finding the horizontal road was pretty easy since it was nicely labeled "Old Route 66." I love clear signage. But then there were no more signs and before I knew it there was I-40 directly ahead of us. The car in front of us decided to turn onto an unmarked badly paved road, so I did the same. When in doubt follow the car in front of you. I wasn't about to get on the interstate. I was willing to assume the road would lead us somewhere close to where we wanted to go. Still being curious to know where the hell we were, we pulled over and I let one of the riders pull out a fancy phone to determine our location. It turned out that we were on the right county road, so we cruised down the bumpy, grassy road as I prayed to keep my greasy lunch down. Cruising along on Route 66 is amazing. Maybe it's all the hype built up around it, but it gives a feeling of being part of the past. Or maybe I really do need to stop my Twilight Zone marathon...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The best impression, of the short stretch of 66 we rode, was a bicyclist we saw. At first I thought it was a cruiser taking a break due to the massive saddlebags, but as we got closer it became evident that it was a bicyclist not taking a break but pedaling steadily down the lonely stretch of 66 we were on. I was totally impressed by this rider. He had his tent strapped on to his bike and his fancier-than-mine camera hanging from his neck glued to his back by sweat. One could barely see his bicycle under all his gear. I think it's safe to say he was planning on seeing a little more of Route 66 than we were. Rock on, dude! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">GoogleMaps never did mention anything about a spur, and due to a time crunch ( this would be that 'wife bit' in the rider application) we got on the interstate and cruised into the Red Rock Canyon where I enjoyed the rest of my okra and pickles. If I weren't so lazy I could pack road-trip food all the time. The only destination where I make an effort to pack food is Cookietown. Only because you can't go to Cookietown and not have a cookie. It's got to be against some universal law. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Have a wonderful week, and thanks for reading!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Pictures can be found on WGR <a href="http://www.facebook.com/wanderingsofagirlryder" target="_blank">Facebook page</a>!<br /></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span>This blog is brought to you
by the lovely (biased opinion, we know) Stone Turtle – Lodging, a small family
owned and operated hotel / lodging business near Lawton, Oklahoma, Fort
Sill,<span> </span>the Wichita Mountains Wildlife
Refuge, Meers and Medicine Park. Yeah, that’s right we’re a small lodging
business close to all the awesomeness Oklahoma has to offer!!</span></span>Simply Wild Photographyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08147058370903255945noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8872768257152223606.post-78320553604700890312013-09-14T08:43:00.001-05:002014-07-14T10:54:17.503-05:00Rider Application: The Wisdom of a Picky Rider<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The evening got off to a rocky start. No, not as in the town Rocky, but it was just as desolate. An evening could not be cheery and on the way to happiness when one is faced with such a critical decision. As I heaved my last bit of equipment out, I had to finally face the problem. In front of me stood two very appealing options. But, how can one choose? It really isn't fair. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">So I did what I do best; I procrastinated. I shoved the problem aside and continued with the task at hand. I followed the instructions to a T...well, as well as a person who despises reading instructions can follow instructions to a T. It was almost too simple. Maybe that's why my taste test tasted an awful lot like horse food. After shoving my latest cupcakes into the oven whilst praying for a miracle to turn my horse cupcakes into a mouth-watering culinary experience, I had to return to my problem. Procrastination was over.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Wine or coffee? The wine smelled refreshing and tart. And, the coffee smelled so comforting. It wasn't until the fire alarm startled me from my quandaries that I began to explore my options. As I was fanning the screaming smoke detector, I realized that I could have both. Problem solved, kitchen filled with smoke, and a happy coffee and wine drinking misplaced rider, it was another ordinary evening.I managed to veer from a Rocky destination to a Cookietown destination.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Twenty minutes of waiting time really does give a baker a chance to do fun things besides singing along to Frank Sinatra and Tom Waits. I browsed the lovely internet for motorcycle parts. I hate shopping. Unless I ran out of coffee, I'd rather shoot nails into my foot with a pneumatic nail gun than go shopping. But, when it comes to motorcycles, that dreading sense of doom which views nail guns as happy shopping alternatives doesn't hover above me. It gets even better when I'm actually able to order stuff for Blueberry. New visor and brakes all around ordered, kitchen aired out, and I still had 15 minutes to kill.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">In my six years of riding, I've always had amazing luck running across a few decent riders on a regular basis. Living in a military town, riding buddies come and go. It's a fact of Lawton life. It's probably in the Universal Book of Lawton Law that awesome riding buddies are destined to move. I think it's just life's way of keeping me on my toes. How does one find a decent riding buddy? Honestly, all of my awesome partners in crime have been purely by chance. I mean who would have expected to find an awesome riding buddy just cruising through the refuge? Most would probably say that gas stations are always full of riders. True, but my luck with the gas station riders hasn't been so good, statistically speaking.And, I do love statistics...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">In my six years, when it comes to riding buddies I really have experienced the good, the bad, and, unfortunately, the ugly. Over the years, I have joked about needing an application to allow people to apply to be a future riding buddy. A great way to help the riding buddy cause when Serendipity is mad at me. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Others have joked that I need such an
application since I'm so picky. Now, I'm not usually a picky person, but when
it comes to the riding company I keep, I've gotten just a tad bit picky. </span>In my smoke doused sugar high, there really wasn't a better time-filler than creating just such an application. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">So in all its potentially offensive glory, here is my application:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">And, lastly please note: I don't want to hear about all your modifications because I do not care. <br /><br />No multiple choice here, yo. Which is a convenient way to test if people can read and write also.<br /></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span>This blog is brought to you
by the lovely (biased opinion, we know) Stone Turtle – Lodging, a small family
owned and operated hotel / lodging business near Lawton, Oklahoma, Fort
Sill,<span> </span>the Wichita Mountains Wildlife
Refuge, Meers and Medicine Park. Yeah, that’s right we’re a small lodging
business close to all the awesomeness Oklahoma has to offer!!</span></span>Simply Wild Photographyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08147058370903255945noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8872768257152223606.post-33730098273606343362013-08-16T16:18:00.000-05:002013-08-16T16:18:05.524-05:00Attack of the Cupcakes<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I don't believe I've ever mentioned my escapades in the kitchen. I'm no Martha Stuart or Rachel Ray, that's for sure. In fact, most of my baking/cooking attempts are labeled with the word disaster at the end. Some of the highlights:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The Schnitzel Disaster of 2008</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The Waffle Disaster of 2009</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The Biscuit Disaster of 2009</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The Waffle Incident of 2010- Not quite as bad as the Waffle Disaster of 2009.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The Potato Disaster of 2007 - This involved a microwave fire.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The Noodle Disaster of 2011- Where'd all the water go?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The Pancake Disaster of 2009</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The Pound Cake Disaster of 2010- it weighed a whole heck-of-a-lot more than a pound </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Those were the highlights. Cooking usually involves a fire alarm. I haven't made it through very many cooking attempts without a fire alarm going off. It's not cooking until the fire alarm goes off, at least that's what I thought while growing up watching my mom cook...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Practice makes perfect, right? God, I sure hope so!<br /><br />Recipes and I don't get along very well. Recipes want to do one thing, I want to do another. Since I'm usually on a coffee (and coffee song) high, I'm usually able to rationalize why not to follow the recipe. And off into experimentation I drift. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So what was I doing standing in the kitchen at an ungodly hour jamming out to Frank Sinatra, Tom Waits, and the Balkan Beat Box? I just couldn't resist a recipe for snickerdoodle cupcakes. Who could? I didn't know what a snickerdoodle was, but it sounded whimsical and fun, so I snickered and doodled it up. Turns out that snickerdoodling got a little more complicated than I thought when the recipe (there's that pesky business again) called for scooping balls of batter (batter can be balls?) out and rolling them in cinnamon butter. I have to make cinnamon butter?!? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Um, I think not. So instead of rolling batter in butter, I decided to fill the muffin tins and pour cinnamon butter over the muffins. I stuck the butter in the microwave and zapped it fluid. It wasn't long before a funky smell permeated the air and a rumbling sound emitted from the microwave. I can't say I was surprised, but I really wasn't expecting the volcanic buttery eruption which I encountered. I guess leaving the butter lava in the microwave would actually be an easy way to butter my next meal. I'm sure I'm not the only one who despises working with butter. Such a microwave would allow a simple way to dispense butter on any meal. Where's a patent office when you need one? <br /><br />Since I have no idea what snickerdoodles taste like, I can't compare and contrast. Considering my <strike>guinea pigs</strike> I mean friends haven't dropped dead, I think the recipe's a keeper. Motorcycle cupcake holder please! Ya know, so the cupcakes only attack my hips and not my riding time. </span>Simply Wild Photographyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08147058370903255945noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8872768257152223606.post-66351758990116430622013-08-10T06:10:00.001-05:002013-08-10T06:31:20.094-05:00To fish or not<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So I thought that I would do something I haven't done in a while. Actually sit down in advance and plan out a route for a ride. The first time in a very long time where "in advance" doesn't equate scrolling through Google Maps ten minutes before rolling out. I am one helluva procrastinator. Six (going on seven) years of college </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">didn't kill that habit. In fact, I think it made me a better procrastinator; I don't even stress out anymore when a paper I haven't started is due the next day. If that's not a blessing, I don't know what is.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It dawned on me that it had been quite some time since Blueberry and I have been to a particular lake near a particular small town in a while. The last time we were in that area, it was a tad bit chilly (40 degrees plus wind chill) and taking a frostbite detour just wasn't appealing. As I kept this destination in mind for a day, it wasn't long before I heard a rumor drifting through the grapevine purely by chance. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Apparently, since the water levels have been so low fishermen aren't just catching fish anymore. Rumor has it that four dead bodies have been reeled. I wasn't too hot on fish, but in this case I think I'd opt for the (naturally) aquatic option. Since accidentally tying your body to concrete bricks is unlikely, it's highly probable that homicide is the case. Turns out that the folks living in that nice looking little town are of a violent sort. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I don't know if this additional information made the idea of going to this lake any less appealing, but curiosity DID kill the cat... I also think it's safe to say that the small town won't be hiring me for any public relations work any time soon. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Due to the fact that my information did come through the grapevine, and I have no idea how accurate it is or if it was just some crazy story to get me out there stomping around in the mushy, low-leveled lake, I'm leaving the name of the lake and town a mystery; I did not find any information to back up this accusation. I did, however, find that they had a similar incident occur a couple of years ago where a fisherman caught more than he bargained for when he hooked a car containing a corpse. So maybe things are being swept under the water after all...</span>Simply Wild Photographyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08147058370903255945noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8872768257152223606.post-51862210461868875272013-08-04T15:38:00.001-05:002013-08-04T15:38:13.822-05:00Speaking of Oompa Loompas<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Just a quick update:<br /><br />Oompa Loompas triggered an outing I meant to blog about a while back. For those of you who don't receive candy newsletters from those lovely little oompa loompas, I thought I'd share some information since a longer post about it won't be happening since someone is currently engulfed by Project (Color) Madness...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There's a tasty cholocate factory in the area. The next time you're in Davis, OK make sure you check out the Bedre Chocolate factory which is by the Chickasaw Nation welcome center. The chocolate is simply amazing (so much for that whole no-sugar thing). I personally recommend the espresso chocolate. Shocker, right? The original oompa loompas would be proud of the tasty treats the Chickasaw Nation conjures up. And, while you're on your way to buy some chocolate happiness, you should make a quick stop in Tatums, OK. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Tatums is a small all-black community which has been around since the 1890s. The community is one of thirteen still existing all-black communities. Back in the days before the great depression they had everything from a post office to a mechanic. They even had a hotel...because travel was so popular back in the 1920s. There are some neat remnants of better days still to be seen in Tatums. A silent movie called Black Gold was filmed in the town in 1928 with a big action scene taking place on Main Street (so I read). However, the only evidence of this are located in a museum in California. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Pictures from my trip will be uploaded to <a href="http://www.facebook.com/wanderingsofagirlryder" target="_blank">Wanderings of a Girl Ryder Facebook</a> page.</span>Simply Wild Photographyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08147058370903255945noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8872768257152223606.post-57227460970385790992013-08-03T21:45:00.000-05:002014-07-14T10:55:13.807-05:00Google Maps plans yet another ride<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">You know it's going to be an awesome motorcycle adventure when the ride starts with a jump start. Not Blueberry, of course. After stopping by the store to buy some gummy worms (the early bird gets the worm and the early worm gets eaten), these early birds had some worms, jump started the companion bike, and rode off into the sunrise...well, rode off into the west while the sun was rising in the east. No need to get technical. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">As we approach the unexpected town of Rocky, the excitement of the unknown is starting to show in my face as I pray the town is bigger than Cookietown. <i>Please at least have a post office! </i>It's in a slight curve of the road that I get distracted from my negotiations with the town-size gods when I spot a young man just sitting in the ditch observing passersby...not that there were any. If that unexpected sight didn't send my negotiations down the drain, it was the strong feeling of deja vu. I kid you not, it was not long ago that I curved through the curves of HWY 115 back when it wasn't under construction (okay, so maybe it was a while ago) that I saw a young man just chilling out in the ditch watching imaginary cars and me go by. I'd almost bet my IRA it was the same young man. You might think that's unlikely; 100 miles apart the same man sitting in the ditch. But, if I find myself on the outskirts of Rocky, why can't he? Plus, how many people can list ditch sitting as their favorite past time? Besides the fact that I was experiencing a weird case of deja vu, it may as well have been a scene from The Twilight Zone. There was this episode in the first season, I believe, where a woman drives across the country by herself. During her travels, she keeps seeing the same hitchhiker. Everywhere she goes, there he is. Just staring at her. Now, her hitchhiker ended up being the grim reaper so I'm hoping it's not quite like an episode out of The Twilight Zone. I probably shouldn't start and end my days watching Twilight Zone episodes...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Google Maps hadn't mentioned anything about a town named Rocky, but there we were in a small town with absolutely nothing besides a post office and four churches. Do I know how to negotiate or what? In a town named Rocky, I would have expected the theme song from the movie Rocky (the first one) to float down from hidden speakers on Main Street. How cool/odd would that be? God knows if I lived in Rocky I would have <i>Gonna Fly Now</i> by Bill Conti blast upon those who ran over my trigger wire on Main Street. Make someone feel like they're in the Twilight Zone for a change. Of course, I had to wander the empty streets of Rocky. Even the churches were empty. On a Sunday morning! In Oklahoma! Blasphemy! Where's the Bible Belt hotline number when you need it?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The people (if there are any) of Rocky have a thing for little dogs. Not one Great Dane or Lab was seen. Millions of little vermin were spotted. Maybe the little dogs are from an unknown planet in outer space who landed, invaded, and annihilated all Rocky-ians. Good thing they didn't zap us, too!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It's taken me over four years to realize this: small town Oklahoma is closed on Sundays. No exceptions. What a Twilight Zoney trip it has been. As we enter the abandoned downtown of Cordell, not a soul was seen. The diner offering everyday lunch specials was closed. I guess their Sunday lunch special is to let people starve. Good thing for worms! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On the corner of Sayre and Sayre (okay, so it's not that small), you can find easy access to a five step program. All in one street corner! Five steps, you ask? First, when you commit a crime, the police will assist you (step 1). Of course, sitting in jail is no fun so you have plenty of choices to select your bail bond source (bail bonds men galore- step 2). Since there's likely to be a trial, a leech...I mean, lawyer will be necessary. Options for this third step exist, of course. You'll go to court in Sayre's fine court house (step 4). And, when the leech sucks you dry, and has coffee with the judge, you'll experience the fifth step of the program: Norfolk Correctional Facility. Sayre has a nice bank- just sayin'.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">All jokes aside, going back to step four, this was the reason for my trip. Not going to court, I'd like to save that for my experimental years, but the Beckham county court house was featured in the 1940s Grapes of Wrath movie with Henry Fonda. I can't remember seeing a court house in the movie, but if the sign says so, it must be true, right? I do, however, remember an OKC milk truck in the movie. The coffee mentioned in step five would probably be had at the Brick House (...she's a brick...HOUSE) Coffee Shop off of Main. How excited I was when I saw that the little court yard with flowers, chairs, and tables was part of a coffee shop. It's like Pavlov's dogs; the idea of coffee starts conditioned salivating. I see a nice little coffee shop reflected in the window. How neat to find such a treat in a five step town! As little espressos, cappuccinos, lattes, and iced coffee drinks are dancing around in my mind (and little muffins, too) I go to the door to find a heartbreaking sign on the door. "Closed on Sundays." Might as well add a sign that says "No coffee for you chump!" Where's the hospital for my broken heart? They probably don't have one since medical is probably available at step five.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Somewhere between Sayre and Altus, I lost my hair tie. If there's one thing I've learned, it's that just twenty minutes of wind and open hair can cause unimaginable painful tangles which take hours of patient combing to get undone. Ain't nobody got time for that, but I still like to avoid the ten minutes of hair removal by excruciating comb yanking. At the last gas stop of the 270 mile adventure, I searched my backpack for another hair tie since I usually have extra. Usually, but not this time. I really just need to attach a few to my handlebars. I did, however, find some combat boot shoe laces a mile long. How'd those get in there? I can't remember. So shoelace hair tie it was. After looping a quarter of a mile of shoelace around my hair, I tied it off and attached it to my shirt so someone's antenna wouldn't find itself with an Oklahoman for decoration.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Pictures on <a href="http://www.facebook.com/wanderingsofagirlryder" target="_blank">Wanderings of a Girl Ryder Facebook page</a>!<br /></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span>This blog is brought to you
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Refuge, Meers and Medicine Park. Yeah, that’s right we’re a small lodging
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span>Simply Wild Photographyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08147058370903255945noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8872768257152223606.post-78478268116668817792013-07-22T21:09:00.001-05:002014-07-14T10:54:58.473-05:00There's no historical marker in Alfalfa<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Some mornings I truly question my sanity. How is it that I'm here? Not just here physically, but mentally. I mean who in the world decides to get up at 0500 in the morning (who would have thunk one of those existed in the morning, too?!?) on a Sunday? Only to pound the keyboard with my head... I knew there was something missing. COFFEE!!!!!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Even with the amazing power of coffee, I wonder about my sanity. The tasty, black, cowboy energy juice which provides me with happy feelings, and thus happy thoughts, tells me to forget all this sanity jazz and get to work: <br /><br />After getting off of work, I was in the need of some quality time with my baby. My poor neglected baby. I'm still waiting for the rebellion to kick in and for those teenage years to shine while keeping my fingers (and toes) crossed that they don't; I would hate to have a spat with Blueberry over attention issues. The Oklahoma summer was just getting into the swing of things, a warm (hot!!) breeze (gusty gale) swept over the plains as I pushed Blue out of the garage. I'll admit right now that I'm trying to pacify Blue with a little materialistic attention. Yessirriebob, more kitsch was added. It looks pretty damn spunky, if I do say myself. Biased opinion since I like spunky kitsch. The sky was blue with a little cloud coverage here and there. A ten percent chance of storms was predicted by our occasionally accurate meteorologists, but what's ten percent? A tiny piece of pie, that's what it is.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Not only is my sanity questioned on a regular basis, but the methodology I have for picking riding destinations. I'm pretty sure I decided on this ride's main stop while playing around on Google Maps. But, who could resist a town named Alfalfa? Not the girl who insists upon calling Lake Eufaula (did eu-faul-a down the rabbit hole?- hm, maybe I'll be able to remember the name now) Lake Eufalufa (like oompa-loompas). Sure, I planned a huge detour through Red Rock Canyon State Park and Hydro, but the highlight was to be Alfalfa. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Camelbaks are pretty awesome. No, I didn't happen to run into that evasive camel, but I did remember to pack some water in a camelbak which landed in my neon pink backpack. The standard camelbak harnesses are just too normal for my taste. The camelbak is actually pretty convenient, considering that I choose to wear a helmet, to be able to drink (...water) while riding. Yep, I'm not one of those cool cruiser riders who can chill out in their whatever rag whilst smoking a cigarette and reaching for the coffee in the coffee cup holder. Okay, so that coffee cup holder is more of a Goldwing thing.It makes those "Oh my God! I think I'm going to die of heatstroke" stops obsolete. At least in theory or until one of the lame non-camelbak bringing riders has to stop. How many times can camelbak be used in a paragraph? Let's find out. So all is good as we're cruising to detour stop numero uno, home of MVP Johnny Bench - not that I know who that is... As I'm casually sipping on my water, I ran into some technical difficulties with my camelbak. Leave it to me to find some way to get a free shower during the ride. Theoretically, turning off the water supply is easy. But, somewhere in the process something went wrong and I had the water hose in one hand and the spout in my mouth. None of which were connected. It wasn't until after my shirt and Blueberry's gas tank were soaked through, that I realized my H2O plan was quickly deflating. That makes seven. To pull over or not to pull over was almost the question as we ambled down a lonesome country road. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Smarty that I am, my left hand ignored the clutch as it was occupied saving my water. </span>How to get the mouth piece back on the water hose with one hand and no idea what's going on under my helmet? I would have thought I have a better chance riding that camel. With a little ingenuity and a whole lot of luck, I stopped the geyser which was my camelbak and saved my water stash. And, the camel is successfully elusive yet again. Who could have stopped at seven?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">It was a little amusing that Binger is currently undergoing road improvements when there ain't much road to be had. Not that they don't deserve paved roads, but what used to be such a charming little town to curve into is now just about as dull as some other places. They even removed that Caution steep decline sign...and the steep decline. Unless I blinked and missed the treey, steep decline into Binger. It is Oklahoma, after all. Or maybe someone just realized that the decline really wasn't all that steep to justify a caution sign.Eventually, I'm going to have to find a different cover story to get some folks to ride with me. My definition of cool town compared to theirs seems to be a tad bit different. Some might argue a couple galaxies apart. As my bored companions chilled out infront of Binger's (hopefully) abandoned medical clinic, I walked the streets. After all, it was the home of Johnny Bench...whoever that is. Maybe I ought to Google him. As we took that non-camelbak wearing rider water break, the sky began to change in the direction of detour stop#2. It really didn't look all too bad, but as we packed our stuff together and left, the chills of the old funeral home sent us into the eye of the tiger. The closer we got to Red Rock Canyon, the worse the sky looked. As much as I love rain, I'm over riding in it. Been there, done that. No need to repeat. I'm no dog; after repeating the same lesson 32 times, I've finally had it. I'd consider this lesson learned. Until it's forgotten, of course. With six miles left and a nasty looking wall cloud awaiting our arrival, I pulled over to confer with my caravan. Now, I don't know a whole lot about weather. God knows, I've driven in some awful stuff, but to just ride right into an avoidable storm sounded slightly daft even to me. How helpful they were. We follow you, they said. So if everyone jumped off a cliff, would you? If it looked like fun... It's kind of disturbing when I'm the sensible one. Speaking of dogs, the bright side would seem to be that the members of my caravan are as loyal as dogs. Flip a B, we did. And, we curved right back through Binger. An elevation change was not to be found. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">It looks Binger was the talk of some other towns recently. And, no it wasn't about what's his face(?). It seems that<a href="http://www.news9.com/story/22808758/video-of-teenage-girls-fighting-in-binger-prompts-investigation" target="_blank"> high noon in Binger</a> ended up on Facebook and the news. Looks like some teenagers need to find some productive hobby, other than fighting that is, to replace their boredom. Well, and some mothers apparently. It's kind of sad that no one steps up to the plate when something like that happens. It's a small town, you'd think someone would step in. Well, I guess you thought wrong. Speaking of plates, it's time to move on to the next one. Johnny Bench. Bench played two seasons in the Minors before moving on to a 16 year <strike>home-slide</strike> home run in the Major Leagues (baseball) with the Cincinnati Reds. Did you know they have sites on baseball vernacular? I do now. And, to think this baseball legend started in Binger, OK; He was valedictorian of his graduating class at Binger High School. Exactly how he made the jump from high school to the minors, I do not know. I guess in the land where sports are worshipped, the impossible really is possible. Playing in the major leagues, according to Wikipedia (professors just love that source), was the childhood dream of this small-town boy. Daddy's advice helped make it happen. Hm, maybe it was daddy's childhood dream, too... Binger was settled in 1901. That year was an exciting year as they also got a post office. Binger is supposedly the home of close to 30 businesses... All of which are closed on Sundays. Back in the good old days, Binger was also the home of a hotel and Deer Head Saloon (don't want to know how it got its name). Nowadays, it's got a museum dedicated to that one guy. Personally, I'd rather have that saloon with the deer head. Binger even has some ghosts to call its own. Some hauntings have been reported in Binger (homes and old high school); I'd make some connection to the funeral home, but I just don't have it in me. That and I'm pretty sure the funeral home isn't as abandoned as it looks...<br /> </span>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It turns out Google Maps isn't as accurate as I keep hoping it is.From the map I looked at earlier, I would have thought that hwy 58 is a straight shot down from Hydro to Carnegie. It turns out it is not so. As I try turning into a field expecting hwy 58 to miraculously appear and take me to Alfalfa, it was obvious that the little Google car had not been on this stretch of road. As we got closer to the main stop, a historical marker warning sign was posted on the side of the highway. Location of alleged marker was Alfalfa. What could it possibly be for? I didn't know, but I planned on finding out. Having the tendency to keep the eyes moving, I spotted an abandoned barn tucked away behind a forest of undergrowth and trees. Of course, the caravan had to turn around and park in front of a redneck looking house so I could walk the fence line back to the barn. I half expected someone to come out with a shotgun to investigate where that loud muffler noise was coming from. Guess it was just too hot to open the door. Not that I'm complaining. I've learned my lesson when it comes to barns and pictures. On the way to Hobart there used to be this gorgeous three-story red barn. I always wanted to stop to get a picture of it; It's something one doesn't see very often. One day as I was preparing to stop (it happens occasionally) for this barn, I noticed there wasn't a barn to stop for anymore. Therefore, the risk of an angry redneck was worth it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Before I knew it, we were in Alfalfa. Alfalfa is a town consisting of an old school and three houses if you count the abandoned farm house. We found alfalfa bales in Alfalfa, but nothing else. There was no historical marker to be found. After some research, it's not a registered historic marker. At least not a marker important enough to register. Maybe it was just a misplaced warning sign to tease people to stop in Alfalfa. Or to get them to enter the old school never to return to the light of day and buildings which don't smell of hay. Apparently, there once was an old store, fire department, and a gas station. The fire department is still there, if my memory serves me right. But, the old store must have been torn down a ways back. And, that my dear readers, was Alfalfa. After all the excitement of camelbaks, creepy still-in-business funeral homes, storms, and missing historical markers, the day called for some coffee topped with ice cream. Being as there was no store or long lost diner in Alfalfa, a gas station would have to do. One of these days I hope to find an awesome little diner in one of the ghost towns I ride through. This hope also seems to be as evasive as that camel. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Totally off topic: Perry, OK used to publish a weekly German newspaper in the early 1900s (like 1912ish). How cool is that? Perry certainly didn't have a banner displaying that info when I cruised through there in April. Wouldn't you know it, but I clicked on a volume which mentioned the Apache prisoners on Fort Sill. </span><br />
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<br /><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span>This blog is brought to you
by the lovely (biased opinion, we know) Stone Turtle – Lodging, a small family
owned and operated hotel / lodging business near Lawton, Oklahoma, Fort
Sill,<span> </span>the Wichita Mountains Wildlife
Refuge, Meers and Medicine Park. Yeah, that’s right we’re a small lodging
business close to all the awesomeness Oklahoma has to offer!!</span></span>Simply Wild Photographyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08147058370903255945noreply@blogger.com0