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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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...
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. 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.
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?
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
I'll leave some pictures in a new Facebook Album!
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!!
Showing posts with label explore oklahoma. Show all posts
Showing posts with label explore oklahoma. Show all posts
Saturday, May 24, 2014
Monday, September 30, 2013
When GoogleMaps doesn't plan the ride
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?
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Things I didn't know about Minco: the town was named after a great Chickasaw chief, 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 annual honey festival. 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.
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 todowntown 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.
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.
"Are those strangers on our beat, Bugsy?"
"Yeah, boss! yeah, boss!"
"Nobody comes through our place, see? This ain't the highway, see?"
"Lemme at 'em, boss! Ooh, lemme at 'em!"
"Get rid of 'em, Bugsy."
I'm not fluent in Chihuahua gangster, but I think that's a pretty accurate translation
The alpha male had his crony do his dirty work. This is where we experienced the 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.
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; I'll admit I was slightly disappointed. I guess Chihuahuas only dislike Harleys. We left the boss and his little sidekick to the mean street life of El Reno.
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 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.
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.
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...
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!
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.
Have a wonderful week, and thanks for reading!
Pictures can be found on WGR 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!!
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Things I didn't know about Minco: the town was named after a great Chickasaw chief, 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 annual honey festival. 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.
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
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.
"Are those strangers on our beat, Bugsy?"
"Yeah, boss! yeah, boss!"
"Nobody comes through our place, see? This ain't the highway, see?"
"Lemme at 'em, boss! Ooh, lemme at 'em!"
"Get rid of 'em, Bugsy."
I'm not fluent in Chihuahua gangster, but I think that's a pretty accurate translation
The alpha male had his crony do his dirty work. This is where we experienced the 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.
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; I'll admit I was slightly disappointed. I guess Chihuahuas only dislike Harleys. We left the boss and his little sidekick to the mean street life of El Reno.
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 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.
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.
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...
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!
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.
Have a wonderful week, and thanks for reading!
Pictures can be found on WGR 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!!
Thursday, April 4, 2013
And there went March pt II
If there's one thing I love, it's picking random places to go check out. Sure, I've been to a lot of the surrounding places so often they could be called Cheers and I could be called Norm(!), but I still enjoy every sip of adventure just as Norm enjoyed every sip of beer. If there's another thing I love, it's getting people to want to go explore with me.
An afternoon in Nowhere
As luck would have it (what's with this lady streak Luck is on?), I had managed enticing a couple of people to go exploring. Because I was the only motorcyclist and the weather was pretty sucky, Blueberry had to stay home. I offered to drive, and off we eventually went. The idea was to make it up to Hinton, OK, but we were short on time and took one too many detours.
We coasted through Apache and went up to Fort Cobb where we spotted a massive coyote. I say we, even though it was I who spotted the coyote, because it's somewhat bad to portray myself as always looking around when I should be watching the road...even if it may or may not be true. In Fort Cobb we stopped by the World War II memorial tree. Of which I have no picture. It was a pretty small tree planted next to the Fort Cobb history lesson plaque. Thank God for full braking power otherwise we might have missed it and needed to make a u-turn. I was somewhat surprised to see a small independent grocery store still thriving in Fort Cobb. Since we we really were short on time, there was no opportunity to check out the small tavern either. Next time. We stopped in Nowhere on our way to the Lake. As I was paying for my artificial flavoring and sugar loaded snack, I asked the proprietor of the store about Nowhere. Nowhere was established by a man from Los Angeles who brought his wife to Oklahoma. She must have been pretty shocked by the change in scenery and was mad at her husband for bringing her to the middle of nowhere. The middle of Nowhere might as well have an official name. The proprietor was very kind and gave each of us a "I've been to Nowhere, OK" bumper sticker. Once again, I did not purchase a shirt. However, one of my partners in crime did, so I lived vicariously through him on that purchase. Also, I think the population decreased by 2. I thought last time the Nowhere sign had said Pop. 5... That keeps up, we'll have a ghost town on our hands.
After checking out the lake and polishing off my 100 grams of sugar snack, I thought we might still have a chance to make it up to Binger, the childhood home of baseball MVP Johnny Bench. As we coasted up the road towards Albert, OK, (population maybe Nowhere x 2), a gigantic roadrunner ran across the road. I didn't hear a beep-beep, but that could have been from the sugar high. Of course, brakes were applied and I doubled back on the double so I could try to coax the bird back out of the trees, but it was long gone. After turning back around, we decided that Albert would be it for us. Have a letter to mail? Have no fear, Albert's post office is here. Yup, the great city of Albert has a small post office, its own zip code, a volunteer fire department, and a house or two next to the Future Farmers of America sign.I f that's the future of farmers in America, I think I'll stick with what I've got.
It's against my innate philosophy to take the same way back. Needless to say, we were back a lot later than planned and other plans had to be altered. Not that they were my plans- so it really didn't matter.
Museums, Norwegians, and Vegans
Weather wasn't an excuse for not riding today, but I still had two non-riders with me, and I don't have an active sticker on my bike to get on Fort Sill although that shouldn't matter anymore. This was the first time I strolled through the museums on base. They have an impressive set-up of all sorts of museums. If you actually plan on reading all the signs, I'd allot a day for this activity. We browsed through the Field Artillery Museum, the cannon walk, the Buffalo Soldier exhibit, and the Native American exhibit in an hour or three. The last Fort Sill stop was Geronimo's grave. Geronimo's skull is one of ten famous body parts which have been stolen. Whether or nor Yale's Skull and Bones society is actually in the possession of Geronimo's skull has never been proven even though a lawsuits still arise. Can't give something back if no one has proven you've stolen it. The skull was alledged to be stolen by the Yale's secret society in 1918 from the Fort Sill location. We could have car pooled, but for some reason we didn't. The boys had the map, so I just followed them. That was a mistake. We got pretty lost, and it certainly wasn't a 6 mile drive like it should have been. I think that's all I'll say about that. There were many offerings left at Geronimo's grave. I wonder if someone cleans up the perishables on a regular basis. People leave all sorts of things: money, tobacco, service pins, Native American jewelry, key chains, little figurines. The graveyard is one of the nicer ones in the area tucked away on Fort Sill.
We dropped off a car, and continued on our way. I should probably point out that Hinton was, once again, our final destination. We checked out the cobblestone church in Fletcher, drove through Cyril, and stopped in Cement. In Cement, we talked to the owner of the variety store gave some information about the Jesse James Museum. The museum's still open, but by appointment only. Who wants to make an appointment with me? The variety store is also the town library and accountant. Is that a one-stop shop or what? Not only can I buy a wedding-like dress, but I can get my farm taxes done while picking out some books to read. I was also corrected on the pronunciation of Keechi Hills. My memory fails me, but it's either Catch-I or Keech-I. The Keechi Hills are also home to a hill referred to as Saddle Mountain where local legend claims Jesse James may have buried some treasure. There are supposed to be carvings on the east side of this mountain which may date back to Jesse James' time. Who knows. The property housing this mountain was recently for sale for mere $250G...to live in Cement?!? Not that it's not...um nice or anything, but gee-whiz!
We drove down some of the roads until we came to Lake Burtschi. Found a lot of bottles, but no messages. Of course, I left all my post-it notes at home. I explained our travel options to my companions. We could go to Norge, where the Norwegians live, or we could take the highway and get to Chickasha a little faster. Somewhere in the process of explaining ideas, they got misinterpreted in translation, and I was told that it was cool that there was a place where just vegans lived, but it wasn't necessary to check it. Now I'm not sure if it was my German, my weird accent, or the driver was acting like most do:not listening to a word I was saying, so we opted against going where the vegans live. By the time we reached Chickasha, it was getting late which was going to make us late for our dinner invitations. We were slightly more late than fashionable, and Hinton was not graced with our presence yet again. I learned something new that day, when going into a liquor store, passports do not count as forms of identification. Could've just been that when you're from Mississippi, you don't know what a passport is. I'll have to ask my family...
Last but not least, I find it amazing that March had so many memorable moments after the vicious attack school had in store for me this semester. March held nothing but ugly assignments, from intense exams to three 10-15 page papers. It's a miracle I still have my wits strung together. The Paper Rebellion of Spring 2013 was brutal, and brain cells lost in the battle will be remembered fondly.
An afternoon in Nowhere
As luck would have it (what's with this lady streak Luck is on?), I had managed enticing a couple of people to go exploring. Because I was the only motorcyclist and the weather was pretty sucky, Blueberry had to stay home. I offered to drive, and off we eventually went. The idea was to make it up to Hinton, OK, but we were short on time and took one too many detours.
We coasted through Apache and went up to Fort Cobb where we spotted a massive coyote. I say we, even though it was I who spotted the coyote, because it's somewhat bad to portray myself as always looking around when I should be watching the road...even if it may or may not be true. In Fort Cobb we stopped by the World War II memorial tree. Of which I have no picture. It was a pretty small tree planted next to the Fort Cobb history lesson plaque. Thank God for full braking power otherwise we might have missed it and needed to make a u-turn. I was somewhat surprised to see a small independent grocery store still thriving in Fort Cobb. Since we we really were short on time, there was no opportunity to check out the small tavern either. Next time. We stopped in Nowhere on our way to the Lake. As I was paying for my artificial flavoring and sugar loaded snack, I asked the proprietor of the store about Nowhere. Nowhere was established by a man from Los Angeles who brought his wife to Oklahoma. She must have been pretty shocked by the change in scenery and was mad at her husband for bringing her to the middle of nowhere. The middle of Nowhere might as well have an official name. The proprietor was very kind and gave each of us a "I've been to Nowhere, OK" bumper sticker. Once again, I did not purchase a shirt. However, one of my partners in crime did, so I lived vicariously through him on that purchase. Also, I think the population decreased by 2. I thought last time the Nowhere sign had said Pop. 5... That keeps up, we'll have a ghost town on our hands.
After checking out the lake and polishing off my 100 grams of sugar snack, I thought we might still have a chance to make it up to Binger, the childhood home of baseball MVP Johnny Bench. As we coasted up the road towards Albert, OK, (population maybe Nowhere x 2), a gigantic roadrunner ran across the road. I didn't hear a beep-beep, but that could have been from the sugar high. Of course, brakes were applied and I doubled back on the double so I could try to coax the bird back out of the trees, but it was long gone. After turning back around, we decided that Albert would be it for us. Have a letter to mail? Have no fear, Albert's post office is here. Yup, the great city of Albert has a small post office, its own zip code, a volunteer fire department, and a house or two next to the Future Farmers of America sign.I f that's the future of farmers in America, I think I'll stick with what I've got.
It's against my innate philosophy to take the same way back. Needless to say, we were back a lot later than planned and other plans had to be altered. Not that they were my plans- so it really didn't matter.
Museums, Norwegians, and Vegans
Weather wasn't an excuse for not riding today, but I still had two non-riders with me, and I don't have an active sticker on my bike to get on Fort Sill although that shouldn't matter anymore. This was the first time I strolled through the museums on base. They have an impressive set-up of all sorts of museums. If you actually plan on reading all the signs, I'd allot a day for this activity. We browsed through the Field Artillery Museum, the cannon walk, the Buffalo Soldier exhibit, and the Native American exhibit in an hour or three. The last Fort Sill stop was Geronimo's grave. Geronimo's skull is one of ten famous body parts which have been stolen. Whether or nor Yale's Skull and Bones society is actually in the possession of Geronimo's skull has never been proven even though a lawsuits still arise. Can't give something back if no one has proven you've stolen it. The skull was alledged to be stolen by the Yale's secret society in 1918 from the Fort Sill location. We could have car pooled, but for some reason we didn't. The boys had the map, so I just followed them. That was a mistake. We got pretty lost, and it certainly wasn't a 6 mile drive like it should have been. I think that's all I'll say about that. There were many offerings left at Geronimo's grave. I wonder if someone cleans up the perishables on a regular basis. People leave all sorts of things: money, tobacco, service pins, Native American jewelry, key chains, little figurines. The graveyard is one of the nicer ones in the area tucked away on Fort Sill.
We dropped off a car, and continued on our way. I should probably point out that Hinton was, once again, our final destination. We checked out the cobblestone church in Fletcher, drove through Cyril, and stopped in Cement. In Cement, we talked to the owner of the variety store gave some information about the Jesse James Museum. The museum's still open, but by appointment only. Who wants to make an appointment with me? The variety store is also the town library and accountant. Is that a one-stop shop or what? Not only can I buy a wedding-like dress, but I can get my farm taxes done while picking out some books to read. I was also corrected on the pronunciation of Keechi Hills. My memory fails me, but it's either Catch-I or Keech-I. The Keechi Hills are also home to a hill referred to as Saddle Mountain where local legend claims Jesse James may have buried some treasure. There are supposed to be carvings on the east side of this mountain which may date back to Jesse James' time. Who knows. The property housing this mountain was recently for sale for mere $250G...to live in Cement?!? Not that it's not...um nice or anything, but gee-whiz!
We drove down some of the roads until we came to Lake Burtschi. Found a lot of bottles, but no messages. Of course, I left all my post-it notes at home. I explained our travel options to my companions. We could go to Norge, where the Norwegians live, or we could take the highway and get to Chickasha a little faster. Somewhere in the process of explaining ideas, they got misinterpreted in translation, and I was told that it was cool that there was a place where just vegans lived, but it wasn't necessary to check it. Now I'm not sure if it was my German, my weird accent, or the driver was acting like most do:not listening to a word I was saying, so we opted against going where the vegans live. By the time we reached Chickasha, it was getting late which was going to make us late for our dinner invitations. We were slightly more late than fashionable, and Hinton was not graced with our presence yet again. I learned something new that day, when going into a liquor store, passports do not count as forms of identification. Could've just been that when you're from Mississippi, you don't know what a passport is. I'll have to ask my family...
Last but not least, I find it amazing that March had so many memorable moments after the vicious attack school had in store for me this semester. March held nothing but ugly assignments, from intense exams to three 10-15 page papers. It's a miracle I still have my wits strung together. The Paper Rebellion of Spring 2013 was brutal, and brain cells lost in the battle will be remembered fondly.
And there went March pt1
Goodbye, March!
It's been ages since I've updated, I know, but [insert lame excuse here.] Actually, I have been staying pretty busy, and you can read all about it. Aren't you excited? To give you a taste of the delicatessen to follow, here's a slight preview of March: little red mite invasion on Quetone Point (those little buggers almost won), drooling over custom choppers, finding Nowhere (hard, since a lot of Oklahoma is nowhere), almost went to where the vegans live, and since you are reading this, I survived the paper rebellion of Spring 2013. Yup, it's been an interesting month with some awesome weather and fun adventures.
It's only fair to start at the beginning. After putting all bets on awesome weather over an upcoming weekend, I motivated a small group of brave souls to go hiking. Now, I hate gambling because Luck is never a lady for me; therefore, I had some concerns that the weather would suck. Luck must be toying with my emotions; it was a gorgeous Saturday morning. Blueberry and I pulled out the light summer Icon jacket, packed some water and were on our way to the curves of Meers. What a gorgeous morning! It was a fun, not too challenging hike. Probably the easiest Route anyone will go on with me. We started out at Parallel Forest where the trees are parallel; A place which is haunted by rumors of Satanic worshipers. Even without these legends floating around in my mind, the place still creeps me out. At least, I wouldn't want to be there at night to be run over by a buffalo ghost.What's worse, if that did happen, who would believe me? Yeah, that's what I thought.
We slowly but surely made our way over to Mount Scott. In the process, we found a lot of neat stuff and lost two hikers who have probably labeled me as crazy (not the first time and certainly not the last time). We saw a rock duck, a rock snail, an owl in a rock (owl shape that is), we found a nice rack (not mine), and found some neat places to explore even though we didn't make it as far as I had hoped. Somewhere along the way as I low-crawled through some trees, I picked up a couple of travelers. Millions, to be exact. I had been attacked by millions of miniscule little bugs. Chiggers? I don't know, but those little devils sure did like to bite. Unfortunately for me, I was the only one on the defensive. My hiking partners were not attacked. Is that one-sided or what? Talk about sexism. Okay, it could be that I was the only one who crawled through that one section of trees, but the others went through trees, too. Usually, bugs do not affect me, but when they're tiny, I'm way out numbered, and they bite then I have an issue with bugs. After a quick striptease (where's music and a tip jar when you need it?), I shook out all my clothes.Happy with the results of having made it into the hundreds on the mite count. Having a hundred little bugs is better than a million. I was itching all over. Once we maneuvered our way around an observant longhorn on our way back to the vehicles, we took our sunburned selves to Stone Turtle Ranch to enjoy some coffee and cake on the farm in the amazing weather. Itching is contagious, and some of the others began to look for little red bugs. If only I knew then that I would have the last laugh it may have made the itching more bearable.
The next week... Still sunburned...
My enthusiasm for bikes tends to rub off on people. I'm so obsessed with motorcycles that if a person hangs out with me long enough, he or she will be browsing Craigslist in no time. I'll have just about anyone considering the idea of buying a bike. Of course, my motorcycle charm does not hold for mothers. Otherwise, I'd have been able to get mine on at least a scooter. Still working on that one. My mother's a tough nut to crack. Then again, it might be best if she didn't ride anything. I think I'd be worried to death every time she left the house.
One of the regular hikers has taken it upon himself to get a bike. I was invited to go browse local bike stores. I haven't turned down a chance to drool over bikes yet and I didn't intend on starting that day. I got the last laugh when I was informed that my friend's office was invaded during the week by the same little pests who had so unfairly targeted only me on the hike. He made it sound like he had not believed my plight with the bugs as though I had cried wolf. Thus, I had no pity for his mite infestation.
Most of you know I'm strictly a sportbike kind of girl. You couldn't drag me onto a cruiser...now choppers are a little different. As we ambled through a custom bike shop, I seriously considered switching over to choppers. A chopper would be pretty nice. However, I might have issues getting around a corner because I do love to lean. I can't really see myself on a chopper...at all.
It's kind of amusing to note the differences between sales personnel at different shops. From "please leave your email address and number" requests, what are you doing here looks, "if you need anything let me know", to "would you like a beer?", we heard it all. Kind of sad when your pay is based on a quota and you need names and numbers to prove you were working. I really liked the family business atmosphere at Journey Custom Cycles in Duncan. I found it a bit disturbing that the mechanics at one of the other independent shops were consuming beer while working on motorcycles. Missing screws? No problem! Now I do love beer, but drinking while working on vehicles being sold is a no-no in my book. At the pushy shop, I was also called crazy for starting out on a 600cc bike. I wonder if they call guys who start out on a 600cc crazy. Probably not. As a matter of fact, while I was in there they were making a sale to a newbie rider. To him they also recommended a 1000cc bike. Who you calling crazy, yo? Found it unprofessional that our presence was not even acknowledged by the guys sitting in Yamaha. Not even a "Hey. How's it going?" Just an evil look that we wandered in a few minutes to closing. I'd say closing was the reason, but every time I've been in there, I'm never greeted - just stared at. Guess, quotas aren't an issue for them. Don't have any complaints about Yamaha's service department; they've always been very friendly and helpful. From one extreme of almost pushy and desperate (no pay for no sales) to another extreme of who cares about you(pay with no sales). Guess that fancy MBA is starting to pay off; I notice a lot of things when it comes to how a business is run.
It was a successful outing. A little Harley Davidson was bought, a new rider was awfully happy, and I got to go on a small roadtrip on someone else's dime.
Pictures can be found on WGR Facebook page. Look for part II!
It's been ages since I've updated, I know, but [insert lame excuse here.] Actually, I have been staying pretty busy, and you can read all about it. Aren't you excited? To give you a taste of the delicatessen to follow, here's a slight preview of March: little red mite invasion on Quetone Point (those little buggers almost won), drooling over custom choppers, finding Nowhere (hard, since a lot of Oklahoma is nowhere), almost went to where the vegans live, and since you are reading this, I survived the paper rebellion of Spring 2013. Yup, it's been an interesting month with some awesome weather and fun adventures.
It's only fair to start at the beginning. After putting all bets on awesome weather over an upcoming weekend, I motivated a small group of brave souls to go hiking. Now, I hate gambling because Luck is never a lady for me; therefore, I had some concerns that the weather would suck. Luck must be toying with my emotions; it was a gorgeous Saturday morning. Blueberry and I pulled out the light summer Icon jacket, packed some water and were on our way to the curves of Meers. What a gorgeous morning! It was a fun, not too challenging hike. Probably the easiest Route anyone will go on with me. We started out at Parallel Forest where the trees are parallel; A place which is haunted by rumors of Satanic worshipers. Even without these legends floating around in my mind, the place still creeps me out. At least, I wouldn't want to be there at night to be run over by a buffalo ghost.What's worse, if that did happen, who would believe me? Yeah, that's what I thought.
We slowly but surely made our way over to Mount Scott. In the process, we found a lot of neat stuff and lost two hikers who have probably labeled me as crazy (not the first time and certainly not the last time). We saw a rock duck, a rock snail, an owl in a rock (owl shape that is), we found a nice rack (not mine), and found some neat places to explore even though we didn't make it as far as I had hoped. Somewhere along the way as I low-crawled through some trees, I picked up a couple of travelers. Millions, to be exact. I had been attacked by millions of miniscule little bugs. Chiggers? I don't know, but those little devils sure did like to bite. Unfortunately for me, I was the only one on the defensive. My hiking partners were not attacked. Is that one-sided or what? Talk about sexism. Okay, it could be that I was the only one who crawled through that one section of trees, but the others went through trees, too. Usually, bugs do not affect me, but when they're tiny, I'm way out numbered, and they bite then I have an issue with bugs. After a quick striptease (where's music and a tip jar when you need it?), I shook out all my clothes.Happy with the results of having made it into the hundreds on the mite count. Having a hundred little bugs is better than a million. I was itching all over. Once we maneuvered our way around an observant longhorn on our way back to the vehicles, we took our sunburned selves to Stone Turtle Ranch to enjoy some coffee and cake on the farm in the amazing weather. Itching is contagious, and some of the others began to look for little red bugs. If only I knew then that I would have the last laugh it may have made the itching more bearable.
The next week... Still sunburned...
My enthusiasm for bikes tends to rub off on people. I'm so obsessed with motorcycles that if a person hangs out with me long enough, he or she will be browsing Craigslist in no time. I'll have just about anyone considering the idea of buying a bike. Of course, my motorcycle charm does not hold for mothers. Otherwise, I'd have been able to get mine on at least a scooter. Still working on that one. My mother's a tough nut to crack. Then again, it might be best if she didn't ride anything. I think I'd be worried to death every time she left the house.
One of the regular hikers has taken it upon himself to get a bike. I was invited to go browse local bike stores. I haven't turned down a chance to drool over bikes yet and I didn't intend on starting that day. I got the last laugh when I was informed that my friend's office was invaded during the week by the same little pests who had so unfairly targeted only me on the hike. He made it sound like he had not believed my plight with the bugs as though I had cried wolf. Thus, I had no pity for his mite infestation.
Most of you know I'm strictly a sportbike kind of girl. You couldn't drag me onto a cruiser...now choppers are a little different. As we ambled through a custom bike shop, I seriously considered switching over to choppers. A chopper would be pretty nice. However, I might have issues getting around a corner because I do love to lean. I can't really see myself on a chopper...at all.
It's kind of amusing to note the differences between sales personnel at different shops. From "please leave your email address and number" requests, what are you doing here looks, "if you need anything let me know", to "would you like a beer?", we heard it all. Kind of sad when your pay is based on a quota and you need names and numbers to prove you were working. I really liked the family business atmosphere at Journey Custom Cycles in Duncan. I found it a bit disturbing that the mechanics at one of the other independent shops were consuming beer while working on motorcycles. Missing screws? No problem! Now I do love beer, but drinking while working on vehicles being sold is a no-no in my book. At the pushy shop, I was also called crazy for starting out on a 600cc bike. I wonder if they call guys who start out on a 600cc crazy. Probably not. As a matter of fact, while I was in there they were making a sale to a newbie rider. To him they also recommended a 1000cc bike. Who you calling crazy, yo? Found it unprofessional that our presence was not even acknowledged by the guys sitting in Yamaha. Not even a "Hey. How's it going?" Just an evil look that we wandered in a few minutes to closing. I'd say closing was the reason, but every time I've been in there, I'm never greeted - just stared at. Guess, quotas aren't an issue for them. Don't have any complaints about Yamaha's service department; they've always been very friendly and helpful. From one extreme of almost pushy and desperate (no pay for no sales) to another extreme of who cares about you(pay with no sales). Guess that fancy MBA is starting to pay off; I notice a lot of things when it comes to how a business is run.
It was a successful outing. A little Harley Davidson was bought, a new rider was awfully happy, and I got to go on a small roadtrip on someone else's dime.
Pictures can be found on WGR Facebook page. Look for part II!
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
Explore OK trial run
It was a busy day. Especially since someone could not stay away from the car show in Medicine Park. Guilty! But, it was worth the rush because I got to see some sweet rides (go back a post or two). Anyhow, yours truly came up with the idea of doing history tours in Southwest, OK. Yes, sure we may not have as much history (time-wise) as wherever Plymouth Rock is, BUT we have a rich history nonetheless. State history may only be a century, but the Native American history goes back many centuries. And, of course, let's not forget the not so up-and-up history provided by the outlaws, gamblers, and fortune hunters back in the day. Southwest Oklahoma also has a loud military presence which I'm reminded of on a weekly basis when my windows and pictures rattle like in Mary Poppins. Yes, that's one of two things I remember about the movie. One, Mary Poppins had the coolest bag ever. I mean, who wouldn't want a bag which could carry a motorcycle and apparently not weigh a ton? Two, the family always had to hold the valuables down when artillery was expected. However, they had it down to a science. Fort Sill hasn't given me its schedule. I wonder if they even have one. Maybe they ought to watch Mary Poppins...
The Loop:
Over the years, I've ridden to many interesting places; Sometimes only to make a mental note to come back to check it out, sometimes with the opportunity to explore and be questioned by the local police. I've received a lot of comments and interest in the wheres (location) and whats (history) so together with Stone Turtle Ranch I decided to try my luck as tour guide. It was the first, of what I hope to be many, what I'm calling Explore Oklahoma tours.
Our second stop was the old Victory School #43 building. It's interesting that a stretch of road barely 20 miles long had three schools in the early 1900s (Meers School, Victory School, and Saddle Mountain School). Victory School, according to the Oklahoma Historical Society, is believed to have had a teacherage (a house for teachers) when teachers usually lived with families who lived in the area. The one-room school house offered knowledge to the kiddies from 1902 to 1946. Teacherages were usually found in school districts prior to 1915 and at schools with two or more rooms which makes the fact that Victory School #43 had one kind of unique.
Stop four was in Cooperton. I now know, thanks to Hobart's website, that the sign advertising Saturday Nite Dance is a current thing. So if you find yourself in Cooperton on a Saturday night, have no fear! It's kind of sad when a town with a population of 5 (okay, maybe 15) has more to offer folks than Lawton. Funny how the world works. Drove down Main Street...not much to see there but the bank. And we found this gem (see picture below). It looks to be an old church. Love to have additional information should someone possess it! If I stumble across it in my research, I'll post it.
Additional pictures can be found on my Facebook page.
- Huckleberry Barn
- Victory School #43
- Saddle Mountain
- Cooperton
- Babbs Switch School Memorial
- Hobart
- Quart Mountains
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| Victory School #43 |
Our second stop was the old Victory School #43 building. It's interesting that a stretch of road barely 20 miles long had three schools in the early 1900s (Meers School, Victory School, and Saddle Mountain School). Victory School, according to the Oklahoma Historical Society, is believed to have had a teacherage (a house for teachers) when teachers usually lived with families who lived in the area. The one-room school house offered knowledge to the kiddies from 1902 to 1946. Teacherages were usually found in school districts prior to 1915 and at schools with two or more rooms which makes the fact that Victory School #43 had one kind of unique.
Stop four was in Cooperton. I now know, thanks to Hobart's website, that the sign advertising Saturday Nite Dance is a current thing. So if you find yourself in Cooperton on a Saturday night, have no fear! It's kind of sad when a town with a population of 5 (okay, maybe 15) has more to offer folks than Lawton. Funny how the world works. Drove down Main Street...not much to see there but the bank. And we found this gem (see picture below). It looks to be an old church. Love to have additional information should someone possess it! If I stumble across it in my research, I'll post it.
Additional pictures can be found on my Facebook page.
 |
| Tucked away in Cooperton, OK |
Saturday, May 19, 2012
Another hike and ride
2 rattlesnakes, one buffalo, a couple bad-ass rock "cavern" systems,
millions of daddy long-legs, and a nest of bats. Yup, I'd say it was a
pretty good walk in the refuge. Not to mention the awesome ride. Blueberry is nice and clean (or was) because I finally got around to cleaning it. Love my life.
 |
| Found the bat cave... First hike on the refuge where I've run into bats. They were adorable. |
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| Excuse my dirty helmet. Had a passenger on the ride home! Luck be a lady... |
Sunday, May 6, 2012
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.
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!!
Friday, April 6, 2012
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.
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
Map- Waurika Loop
Click to enlarge. If you scroll down, you'll find the post that goes with this route.
2 way highway= 2 lane hwy.
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Big Loop
Destination: Ada
I drove through Fletcher, Cyril, got onto HWY 19. This brought me through Cement and some awesome scenery with sweepers. Hwy 19 goes right down to Ada. Easy to remember. From Ada, I took Hwy1 (goes down to Sulpher through Roff). Roff.What kind of name is that? Well, I guess it's better than Chitwood... From Sulpher I just stayed on Hwy 7 until Duncan, than took 81 up to Rush Springs back over to Elgin. No refueling worries, there are plenty of gas stations. Roads are okay, and currently undergoing construction
Paul's Valley was established in 1857. Paul picked a nice valley.
Ada has some really nice undercover black chargers. Good to know. In Ada, I met up with some riders. We rode down to the springs in Sulphur. The spring water tastes,well, a little like sulphur.
I got off to a late start for the Ada meet-up due to a "You're not possibly thinking of riding out there alone" discussion, so I wasn't able to take pictures. Therefore, I had an excuse for a small picture-taking road trip...
More pictures can be found on the Facebook album.
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