Another wonderful weekend gone by

Ah, April is passing me by way too fast. In between colds, paper stress, and odd weather, April hasn't seen a lot of riding. The weather gods were on my side a couple of weekends ago as I was able to ride over to Lake Lugert...or Lake Altus as I tend to call it. Yes, I will rename things, places, and people. I was also able to bless the Wichita Mountains with my presence. If that's not the recipe for an awesome weekend, then I don't know what is. 

On Saturday, a rider from OKC was planning on coming down to ride through the Wichita Mountains before heading to the Quartz Mountains. Perfect opportunity, I thought, to get my newbie rider, who bought the Harley a little while ago, an opportunity to feel what it really means to ride. This ties in with my strong belief that anything under 50 miles is not a ride. Granted, lately my rides are in the 50-70 mile range. Somewhat depressing, I agree. The meetup time was flexible and the location was set for Mt. Scott. My friend got off to a little later start in OKC. I found it a little tricky trying to figure out when to leave or tell the Lawton rider to meet-up since I didn't really know a time. When in doubt, just bombard; I played massive text message notification specialist keeping the Lawton rider up to date. After which I was told I did a better job on status update than Dallas/Fort Worth airport. Not sure if that was a compliment... When in doubt, always accept such comments as compliments. 

The weather report stated something about temperatures in the upper 70s and lower 80s. I don't know why I'm still persuaded by such lies; nevertheless, I wore light layers and my summer Icon jacket with the lining. I did regret this choice once I realized that even lower 70s was not going to happen. I left a little earlier so I could continue my boycott of a specific gas station. Lawton rider pulled in to the parking lot shortly after I did. Sometimes life just works out that way when one doesn't stress over things. As we chatted and got ready to leave, the OKC Buell cruises by us. Perfect, I'm not going to be late for one. I figured we'd meet in the parking lot on Mount Scott, which is why I was surprised to find OKC digging through his millions of saddlebags right at the base and in a turn. After the surprise diminished and bugged-out eye to brake-hand reaction was implemented, full brakes were applied...and all went well. I do have a way with brakes.

To make the weather situation a tad bit worse, the wind picked up. I don't know what happened to my layering skills, but they seem to have done gone and left. OKC had his breakfast sitting on top of Mount Scott in good company might I add. I thought of doing the same; however, that seemed like a lot of unnecessary extra work. Laziness, eh? From Mount Scott we made out way to Roosevelt, OK (see Cold Springs...sort of). We took a short break to fuel up and have some coffee. Meanwhile the battery of the Buell was being sucked dry, lawnmowers were driven to the gas station to be fueled, and an Indian (the country) bus with tourists pulled in. All in a short  of time in a small Oklahoma town. I never expect small towns with nothing (no Main Street, or town square) to be so full of interesting things.Who would have thunk that one could hear four languages (German, Indian, English, and Oklahoman) in such a God forsaken town? Ah, to be proven wrong on a frequent basis...

Yup, all the juice was gone. There was none left to be had. How a battery can be so sick of life (or us), I do not know. How to rectify the situation? Brainstorming time. The guys thought while I watched. My forecast for thinking was mostly cloudy with 5% of brainstorming success, so I let it be. Two solutions presented themselves. We could try push starting the Buell or we could jump-start the Buell. I certainly didn't have any cables, and OKC with all his saddlebags, backpacks, and tank-packs didn't have any either. I guess he's not Mary Poppins after all. That was quite a shock to find out; I might need therapy. 

Push starting it was! Lawton and I watched once as OKC tried it himself. Maybe that was a little cruel (there's that hindsight again), but it was worth the amusement. We then decided to help. I didn't bother taking off any gear because I thought the benefit of the doubt might play in my favor. In all my blueness (blue helmet, blue jacket, blue jeans) and pink laces, OKC and I pushed and chased after the Buell in the gas station parking lot. We ran from one end to the other with little success and an out-of-breath blogger. As I was gasping for air, we opted to try once more. We pulled the Buell back to the other end of the parking lot for another try. OKC sitting on his dead steed, and Lawton and I fully clad in armor began the journey to the other end. Lawton has way longer legs than I do, and it was like an ant trying to keep up with a giant while trying to hold on to the Buell to avoid a face-pavement boxing match. My dragging along behind the machine probably didn't help. Then again, my deadweight dragging along couldn't have been worse than the saddlebags...the saddlebags! We should have unloaded the pack mule! I would have been a good sport and offered to try once more (that must be the stubbornness people keep referring to...), but the others saw no use. 

Plan B. It's always good to have back-up plans. Since none of us actually had jumper cables, we began asking everyone who came to the gas station for a set. It's either very shocking how no one carries a set of jumper cables (in a farm town, really?) or how unwilling small town folks are to help. Which was it? I don't know. It looked like more brainstorming was needed. I sat this one out, too. Turns out physical exertion decreases brainstorming success, so I stuck to watching all the pretty cars drive by. The guys went into the gas station and asked the clerk if she happened to have any jumper cables. They were back out so fast that I didn't need to ask what happened. She did, however, mention that we could buy a set. After 10 minutes of contemplating and not wanting to buy, our German Lawton rider disappeared back into the gas station. Five minutes later, the clerk came out of the glassy doors where she probably amusingly watched us desperately run from one end of the parking lot to the other closely followed by a grinning German. I don't know how he did it nor do I think I want to know (ignorance is bliss), but he managed to charm the clerk to check in her car to see if she did have her set of jumper cables with her. Something she hadn't been willing to do 5 minutes earlier... How d...Nope, don't wanna know. I have no idea how he did it, but can I get me some of that? As our luck would have it, she didn't have any jumper cables. Charmer that he is, he bought the jumper cables, we jumped the Buell off of Blueberry, and then he returned the cables. Those Germans do have some skills and Roosevelt was left with another unique impression (German charm) for the books.

We cruised through Blair on our way to the Quartz Mountains which is where we went our separate ways. Lawton and I checked out the beach and the resort. I was ecstatic to find a marble in the sand among the millions of rocks, bottle caps, and weird things close to the water. Since water levels have receded so much and with the thought 'who plays marbles these days?,' I've convinced myself that the marble dates back to the range of 1900s-1950s. The fact that the marble also looks much like the marbles we found on the farm dating from that time, only seals the deal. What does it mean when you find your marbles instead of losing them?

Click here for the WGR Facebook album.

The Day Before

My first ride in 2013 was not on January 1, 2013. Traditionally, I can be found cruising around on the first day of January every year; this year, however, it just did not work out. Many  factors pulled together to work against me. I guess beggars just can't be choosers. 

It was a gorgeous sunny day, and I had the opportunity to meet up with some climbers in the Wichita Mountains Wildlife Refuge. Who could resist to ride on a 39 degree windchill day? Not this rider who was suffering from major withdrawals. I had it timed perfectly. Or, so I thought. But it turns out that my gear/prep checklist took a tad longer than I thought. Mainly due to my brain being on standby. When I remembered I needed keys and went to go get them, I forgot what I wanted by the time I got to where I thought my keys had been. This happened a lot while getting my stuff together.

Checklist:

• backpack
• camera
• cell phone
• wallet
• hot tea
• water
• notebook
• book to read should I get there first
• upper body layer #1
• upper body layer #2
• upper body layer #3
• upper body layer #4
• upper body layer #5
• long underwear
• synthetic wind resistant pants
• jacket
• winter gloves
• 2 pairs of socks
• boots
• keys 
• scarf
• helmet 
• music player
• glasses so I can see stuff

Yes, I make winter riding complicated. But, at least I'm warm and hydrated. I think what I love most about motorcycles is that every ride is an adventure. Cars are my fire breathing dragons.  Undecided squirrels are my strategy changing enemies. Perception really is everything. I love every moment, road, and tree I see while riding. 
So I got off to a later start than I thought. Since it had snowed, the road from Meers into the Refuge was covered in dirt, gravel, and other nasty stuff. Good thing my music was playing. Otherwise the cussing echoing in my helmet may have turned my ears red. I lost a little bit of time making my way down yucky gravely hell since my tires were cold.

I saw a lot of buffalo along the road in the Wichita Mountains. They have a whole 59,000 acre refuge to chill out on, and they pick the area along the road. As I approached the prairie dog town, there was this one buffalo rubbing his neck on an open gate onto the restricted area. He was slightly surprised when Blueberry's exhaust caught up with him. So surprised that he freaked out and stormed off to the other buffalo who then proceeded to freakout. Yes, Blueberry and I actually started a small stampede. I was very tempted to get off my bike and dig out the camera, but I thought stopping in the middle of a buffalo stampede might not be such a good idea. I would like to avoid using the phrase "It seemed like a good idea at the time."

I, therefore, continued on my way. Shortly before the turnoff to the Sunset picnic area, I came across a flock of turkey. I turned around, put Blue in neutral, pulled the gloves off my frozen fingers, shimmied the backpack off my heavily layered upper body and dug for my camera. The Refuge cop probably thought I was having a fit of insanity as I was prancing around trying to get the feeling back in my toes and fingers. 

They were a pretty cool bunch. Didn't have a lot to say, though.

 When I finally made it to the parking lot, the car I was looking for was already there. I hadn't been to this parking lot in years since, next to Mt. Scott, it's a tourist trap. There was still one parking spot left. Now, I had no idea where Echo Dome was (and still do not know) other than it can be found in Charon's Garden. I assumed it was to be reached from the trail going around on the west side of Elk Mountain. I packed my stuff and started on the trail. It wasn't long before I came across a huge longhorn on the trail. Usually, I'm not worried about large animals on trails, but not being properly dressed to run from a longhorn kept me at bay. I decided I'd turn around and get some more miles under my belt. 

When I got back to the parking lot, I pulled out my notebook and wrote a note for the climbers. As I was looking for a place to stash it, I found the note they had left for me. Figures that I'd see it too late.

On my way over to Little Baldy, I saw some buffalo playing or fighting. I was brave enough to pull over and watch them for a bit. They calmed down and then started up again which is when I thought it best to leave. I do believe a buffalo would win in a buffalo vs. bike battle. Especially when the rider still has to put up a camera and pull on gloves.

 As I headed towards Cache, I eventually realized that I was singing off key in my helmet which is also when I realized that my music had disappeared and my mp3 player had turned itself off. By the time I reached Lawton, the resistant part of my pants decided to stop working and it got very cold very fast. So I headed back to Meers. It really was a great day to ride, but the cold kept all but four riders (including myself) from enjoying it. I was surprised that I only saw one cruiser out and about since usually they're always out riding.

Back to Fast Charlie and the Moonbeam Rider

You won't find any pictures of Blueberry on today's post since I'm feeling a tad bit guilty; I dreamt of another bike. A sexy chopper to be exact.

Okay, I really need to watch that movie before I mention it again.Yes, I went back to where the beginning of the movie was filmed, Faxon. I don't always drive to Faxon....But, when I do... Okay enough play on those Most Interesting Man of the World memes. A couple of uncertain left and right turns got me out to the old school. Uncertain, only because I didn't know where I wanted to go. My navigation instinct is still in fine form. Woman's intuition, right? The school was up and running in 1902 and just recently closed. Okay, 1995 may not be as recent as I keep thinking it is. The old school bell can be found in front of the post office in Faxon (so I've heard). I have yet to find the post office. Next time.

On the way back to the highway, we pass this old couple sitting out in their yard enjoying the sunshine of an 80-degree December day. They waved kindly to two unknown bikers passing through their tiny little town on gravely road. Must say it was friendlier than when I cruised through Cooperton.

Growing up out in the country, cars you didn't know just didn't happen to drive by. It was either one of the very few neighbors or someone utterly lost. So, I usually expect a Cooperton welcome when I ride to small towns since I grew up suspicious of unknown vehicles drifting down the road (unless they waved, of course). But all that is changing now that suburbia is taking over my lovely idealistic country picture where you know your neighbors. May not like 'em  an' they may not like you, but toleration is do-able and expected. And, when your house is on fire, they still feel obligated to stop and help.

People want to move to the "country" but still have their neighborhoods (safety in numbers, I guess), yet they don't want to have neighbors. They don't want to wave, they don't want to look you in the eyes, they don't want to acknowledge you. No siree, Bob!  They just want to drive past you (ignoring you while you're waving nicely) and move your mailbox. But, enough about mailboxes. Thank God! You say. Where and what is your point? You wonder. Well, it got lost trying to find my mailbox!

So thank you, Faxon couple, for the nice wave and no dirty look.

From movie-famous Faxon, we rode to Chatty.Not as famous, but just as nice. The town looks to be ready for Christmas. Love small-towns which take pride in their town. Strolled  through the little park before getting back on the bikes to ride to Cache.

So riding back to Cache, I noticed this truck sitting in a field with the driver-side door open and the driver just chilling in his seat. What in the world? I thought. As I zoomed by a little more, I noticed he had his shotgun set up on a table. Does he seriously call that hunting? Sitting in his truck waiting for a deer to come eat corn while playing on his phone? Yes, it's amazing what one sees when one's not paying attention to the road.

Ended a lovely day in Medicine Park. The food and service at the Old Plantation were awful! However, the "river-walk" was lit up really nice, worth the evening drive to stroll along the creek.

Medicine Park, OK

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,  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!!

Another amazing day!

I just want to wish you all a wonderful Thanksgiving holiday!

Life is not one size fits all. So let’s not judge. For we each have our own obstacles to overcome and our own blessings to be thankful for.

It’s a shame that the spirit of giving and gratefulness has to be a holiday to remind some of us of these qualities. I hope that thankfulness and the joy of life remain with you all for quite sometime!

I seriously just have too much fun

Destiny. That's right, Blueberry and I were just meant to be.

 Enjoyed my Sunday afternoon riding through the refuge and having coffee with the family!

You can kind of see the moon in the background. I saw the coolest shooting star while out riding.

Belated 3 Year Anniversary Ride

So the idea that women never forget anniversaries is not applicable to me. I'm sorry, Blueberry! I couldn't imagine owning another bike. At least not at this point in time. Still a little curious about cruisers, but not curious enough to where I'd want to trade in Blue. To another year of awesome rides!

A short ride in the rain

So yesterday after it rained in the morning (which, by the way, was not predicted), it looked pretty clear for a ride. I get on Blueberry, and I'm a mile into a hopefully 120 mile and it starts to sprinkle. Okay, no big deal. Major showers were not predicted until later in the afternoon.The roads were still kind of wet from the morning rain so I just took my time.

Nothing but rain on my 25 mile ride into town to the meet-up location. By the time I got there I was soaked through. Thankfully, my camera and cell phone are still functioning even after getting wet in my jacket (water resistant my foot). Also learned that my tires probably aren't in the best condition to be riding in rain. The roads got really slick in Lawton. And, people were still driving and tail-gating as if the streets were dry.

Almost no dry spots on my jeans.

Was happy to see a couple other people crazy enough to ride on my way in the rain. All cruisers, though. No other sportbikes seen. Not surprised. The other rider that was supposed to ride with is a new rider, so I didn't think conditions were good for a newbie to be getting comfortable on his bike. Maybe I'm too cautious, but better safe than sorry. I'm starting to think that a lot of motorcycle accidents could be avoided if riders knew their limits and realized that  riding skills come from a lot of factors, but mainly from experience and logging miles. Just my two cents from 5 years of observing riders of all types.

By the time I got home, the rain was back to a sprinkle, and the sun was starting to peak out. Figures. But, it was still a little chilly and it did look a little rainy off to the west. Oklahoma weather. Gotta love it. After that little whatever it was moved off to the east, there was no more rain to be had. So much for that rain in the afternoon prediction. I think somewhere in the forecasting process, the weather people got confused.

Yet another close call

I don't know what it is about the coffee group, but it just seems that I always have a close encounter with death when leaving. Today's brush with almost kissing pavement had even me somewhat rattled after all was said and done. I honestly wasn't expecting to get out of that scrape. If riding has taught me anything at all about myself, it's that I have an almost unnatural ability to remain calm, relax,  continue functioning, and keep those rusty gears grinding. My face may be doing all sorts of funny stuff, but my body remains relaxed. Figure it's probably better to face pavement relaxed as opposed to stiff as a board.
So anyways, on to the close call. I turn left out of the parking lot and decide to grab gas at a station at the other end of town and close to the interstate since the turning lane onto Sheridan was beyond full. I'm standing at the light in the left lane and there are a couple of cars in front of me and a few to my right. The light turns green and we all proceed forward. It's lunch hour and the streets are packed. Sure it's not Dallas rush-hour, but still where the hell do all these people come from? Someone decided that he has to turn left into Arby's or that oil-change place right next to it. Not happening, so everyone in front of me is slowing down and stopping while the right lane has moved on and become clear.
I check the right lane, a few cars are moving through the light, but nothing up close and personal. I signal, look again, and switch lanes along with the driver behind me. All is good. I'm moving by the stopped cars in the left lane, when this white car swings out from whatever strip mall is after Taco Bell without so much as a glance in my direction. I look to the left, line's still there. The car seems to be in a major hurry since there were still cars coming through the light. I get as close to the cars in the line on the left while down shifting and applying throttle. The white car was millimeters from my right foot peg when I glanced over and getting awfully close to my rear tire. I relaxed my body and inched a little closer to that line, thanked some higher being that I had decided to wear my leather jacket, and braced for impact. The combination seemed to do it because when I looked back in my mirror the car barely swept past my rear, swung wide, and turned into the parking lot four feet away from where it came out of. A parking lot he could have entered without cutting into traffic. I honestly have no idea how I didn't wind up on the pavement, but very thankful I made it to the gas station in one piece.

I have been observing a lot of drivers lately as I chill out while I ride. I have come to the conclusion that most drivers are complete idiots and don't have the decency to respect the safety of other drivers while they are doing stupid things. Maybe an emotional intelligence test ought to be given when applying for a driver's license?

Oh- Diagram coming soon thanks to an awesome chart a reader made for me ;)

Cookietown, once again.

I think it's safe to say that I am obsessed with this town.  What better way to enjoy a lovely Sunday morning than ride down to Cookietown and have a cookie?

 

I found myself in good riding company. I didn't even get a voiced concern when I pulled out the cookies. Probably thought it was safest not to say anything...

Wandered on over to Chatty and Faxon. Had to stop in front of the old general store/gas station to get a pic. Dig those windows! If my memory serves me right, I don't think I've ever mentioned anything about Faxon, so here goes:
Faxon's population hit its peak of 215 in 1910. The Chicago, Rock Island, Pacific Railway came to "town" in 1903. The town was named after U.S. Senator Chester Long's secretary Ralph Faxon. Senator Long was from Kansas, Senate-wise that is. What is it with Kansas??? Truly, that is the million dollar question. Anywho, the town had two cotton gins, a newspaper (until 1918), an ice yard, a telephone company, a lumber yard, and several grocery stores.

You probably won't believe this, but Faxon is famous. The gas station was featured in..what was that movie? Oh yeah, Fast Charlie the Moonbeam Rider back in 1979 featuring David Carradine. This building had a skating rink upstairs. Not bad for a town so small. Makes me wonder why can't Lawton manage to have anything cool. Not much left of Lawton's old downtown since it was torn down (where was the historic preservation society when ya need it?) to build the mall and whatever else is over there.

More pictures on WGR's Facebook page!
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,  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!!

Back to motorcycles...

I'm sad to report that I've been a lazy rider. Not by choice, though! With work (Stone Turtle Ranch), school, an occasional hike, and the mailbox issue, I've been pretty busy. Looking forward to things calming down and being able to explore Oklahoma a bit more.

No more sloppy corners!

Not gonna lie, I kind of miss my blue sprockets...

 

Holy Cripes! My rims are dirrrrty.

Happy to have my Blueberry back and running like a champ (well, except for all those other parts I ought to replace...the benefits of owning a bike, eh?)!

Horses vs. Motorcycle

Did I ever mention why I chose 120+ hp over 1 hp?

I'm going to tell you a little bit about myself and how I got into bikes. Bikes have been my obsession since I was 13. My mother will testify that I drove her nuts with my daily bike talk. Persistence wears down anyone. It only took me 365 days of "can I have a motorcycle," Ooh! Look at that bike,""MOTORCyyyyyyycle!!!!!!!" to get her blessing.

I'm a first generation Okie. My Mom's from Germany and has always been fascinated with western books (Karl May) and the idea of living auf einem Bauernhof (on a farm). My Dad was an air force brat and then did his 20 years in the army. The last duty station being Fort Sill, Oklahoma. There's got to be a welcome sign somewhere upon entering Oklahoma that warns travelers about being transported 50 years into the past. For Lawton it appears to be more like 70 years. The internet was a Godsend for those who, like me, kept wondering how a town so big could have so little.

The Compromise.
Dad: No Germany.
Mom: Germany.
Dad: No.
Mom: Yes.
Dad: No.
Mom: Fine, but we're moving to the country.

The city slickers move to the country.
My mom had high hopes of me being a cowgirl. The fact that I never had any luck with horses was a contributing factor to my bikes are awesome thought process. Bikes weren't on my radar while my parents were still together. I don't think a bike would have been an option with my conservative dad. My horse experience was...interesting. In all my years, the closest I ever came to meeting the grim reaper was probably when I was on a horse. It all started when I was 4 and got kicked in the knee by our foal. From there it escalated. I've ridden on the underside of a horse (saddle wasn't all too tight- thanks, Mom). I've been dragged through creeks. I've been dragged through barns. I've been dragged under a clothesline in the horse's attempt to create a head-less rider. I've nearly been trampled by a horse (don't get between a mean horse and her food). Needless to say, I've been through a lot with horses.

What's better than 1 deadly hp? 120+ controllable hp.

Blueberry Map

This is what my 44,000 miles of riding looks like. Yes, it's kind of sad. However, it totally puts my knowledge of the area into perspective; no wonder I know this area like the back of my hand. The pink marks are the towns Blueberry and I have invaded blessed with our presence.

 

Got some riding ahead of me!

Merry Christmas!

Wishing everyone a safe and happy holiday! ~ D & Blueberry

GirlClutch

I was really excited to finally get my GirlClutch hoodie! Also got a sticker for Blueberry while I was at it (horrible pic, I know). I've been wanting some motorcycle casual apparel for ages now, but Alpinestar hats and Monster shirts just didn't really appeal to me. Thanks, GirlClutch. Want one of your own? Click here.

Merry Christmas!

Figures

Since I'm currently on lock-down due to presentations, papers, and finals I'm all excited about my two week break. Especially since my plans mainly consist of riding, riding, and riding. Did I mention riding?

Looking at the weather report, and what do I see? Forecast is predicting rain, rain, and more rain.
*super sad puppy dog face*

Lady Rider Jacket

I don't think I've posted anything about my jacket, yet. So here goes. The jeans I'm wearing in this pic are the Red Route Kevlar lined jeans I mentioned in an earlier post. Warmer than regular jeans in the winter. I'm currently sporting Joe Rocket Ballistic 5.0 riding pants these winter days, though. I must say that I've never been so toasty on an overcast 30 degree day. A light layer fits underneath, but be warned- you'll experience cold/hot flashes in those pants. Completely weird. When the heater's on where ever you are, your legs will be cold. If the A/C is on, your legs will be sweating buckets. Sure, you could take them off but who wants to lug around an extra pair of pants?
Personality # 32: FOCUS!
...
Oh, yeah... Jacket.
 It's the Lady Rider jacket by Frank Thomas (size small). Or from that riding gear collection. However you want to phrase where it came from. I've had this jacket for 2 years.  People probably think I have a fascination with pink. I was in Cyclegear when I saw this lovely jacket (the only one that fit my budget) and they didn't have black or blue in my size. When it comes to being able to ride, I'm REALLY impatient. So what the hell, pink it is.
The liner is awesome and warm. It's super easy to take out. And, since I tend to run cold, I can still fit 2-3 layers of under-armor, 1 T-shirt. and 2 sweaters under this jacket. Big plus in my book. It has a waist band the wearer can tighten which keeps air from getting up under there, but then it puffs up the upper body of the jacket (which you can kind of see in the picture). Free and painless temporary boob job.
It's got pads in the elbows and shoulders and the upper portion of the back. Take out the liner and it's a nice jacket to wear up to around 80 degrees. Humid days- it's just awful. But, overall a keeper.

November!

I'm suffering from withdrawals! I haven't been riding much at all. Then again, I haven't been going anywhere at all. The only reason I love going to school is because it's a 50 mile ride. Counting down the hours until my Saturday class starts... 46.5 hours until Blueberry and I are cruising on the hwy.

Another Ride to Hinton

So I haven't had much of a chance to ride lately. But, I'm thankful to have found an opportunity to get away from Lawton for a little bit. However, before the next ride, I need to remember to tighten my chain...

Destination: Hinton, OK...again.

Miles logged: 200ish

Stopped in at Red Rock Canyon State Park in Hinton. The road down to the State Park is fun! But, like all fun things in OK, it's short-lived. So, this was the first time I actually drove through the town of Hinton. I have no clue why I was actually expecting something...

The beginning of HWY 37 in Hinton. It's got some nice sweepers, but I like HWY 115 better.

Oklahoma History Lesson:

Hinton was founded in 1902 by a representative of the Chicago, Rock Island and Pacific Railway. It was a town that thrived from its agricultural nature and the railway. In 1931, the Kiwanis hosted a rodeo. It remains an annual event to this day. The newspaper, the Hinton Record, was first printed in 1904 and is still the current paper. That's kind of neat. In the 60s, they built a nursing home. Hinton is also the home of a nice 18-hole golf course and a prison...

Ah, we also passed through Binger, but I didn't get a chance to stop. On different motorcycle note, I finally bought a copy of Twist of the Wrist!

More pictures of this ride on the Facebook album.