Author's Note: Another entry that got away from me. I am not sure it conveys the good time I had as I would have liked it to, but I am too lazy to re-write. The fact is, I have the William Least-Heat Moon Wandering Blues, and if I could wave a wand and live as I chose, I would be out on the road in this way full-time, just taking it in and then writing it down. I just didn't have time to make the mega-entry out of this that it should have been. I am working on it. I feel completely alive out in virgin mileage with the music blaring and other worlds going by faster than I can digest them. It all adds up to something, and figuring out what that something is has become one of the few things I think I could completely devote myself to and have my soul thoroughly nourished. Throw in family as a way-station along the way, and you pretty much have the recipe for my molecular happiness. I didn't bake that into this entry, but it was with me the whole time. I even took notes. I just failed to use them when I put this together. Give yer homeboy a break. It will gel in time. That time just wasn't this week. I have been literally all over the country in the last two weeks and have to try to get SOMETHING in the can in its time or it will fade away. Trust me. The interface in which I construct this weblog is littered with DOZENS of entries that would have been a perfect outlet for channeling molecular contentment, but I didn't get to them in time, so they just sit there half-written, unpublished, and slipping into the ether. Rather than let the last two weeks' worth of travel join the orphans, I decided to do a quick pass through and get something done. Whether or not it is better than nothing ain't for me to say y'all. In my mind, they are all the same; and Lord knows, I don't go back and read any of this stuff! Hahahahahahaha! Now, on to the cute nephew! Enjoy...
It was a perfect fall weekend in mid-October that I, the Unc With The Funk, had the chance to head down old Oklahoma way to visit with that nephew of mine. He is my newest nephew, and in a 3-way tie for favorite. My mission, as uncle, was to help him pick out that first real pumpkin with his mama, my sister Ellie, and cart it home for later carving. Mission Accomplished.
I love California, but there is something I miss about not having Autumn feel the same way it does back in the flyover country of my youth. Other than the lazy Midwestern summers, I would have to say, you can't do better than a perfect fall day in mid-October. I love the squash & gourd family in general, even when just looking for one of the deocorative variety. It could only have been better if I stayed for the carving, the hayrack ride, the corn stalk maze, the costumes, the candy, and maybe a big old bonfire. Alas, it was not to be. My visit was a short one, though I will say, I packed a lot in. The fact that I packed a lot in over a few days in Oklahoma means one of two things; either OK has lots worth eyeballing, OR, I saw it all...I will leave the answer to you, and hereby submit evidence gathered along the way.
Over time, I have driven across most of Oklahoma, except for the panhandle. I am growing increasingly fascinated by this state, and even though it is tempting to imagine it is just a sort of samey plains state, nothing could be further from the truth. There are many views to the state, and it does depend on where you are. I started out in Tulsa, and in this case, that was a change-up of sorts.
My other visits involved flying into Oklahoma City, but this time, the new routing pleased me. Not only is Tulsa home to the QuikTrip Corporation (a fine purveyor of over-sized self-serve fountain soda), but the ride between Tulsa and Enid was to be comprised almost entirely of virgin mileage. A quick scan of the railroad map of Oklahoma showed also that there were going to be numerous chances to bump into one of the many short lines in OK, but also, heavy traffic almost the whole way between the two cities. The first town out of Tulsa, Sand Springs has its own railroad! I tried hunting down one of their engines, but I had no luck. I did spy a phat old caboose sitting right out in the open. Not a bad second prize.
The route I took out of town basically had me tracing the Arkansas River to the west of Tulsa. I think Oklahoma boasts of having as many miles of shoreline as any other state, if not more, but one quickly sees that it is almost entirely a man made creation. The Arkansas River is dammed literally to hell, and there are endless lakes and flooded plains. Dams are fine I guess so long as it doesn't stop fish from spawning, and my guess is Oklahoma doesn't endanger any salmon runs or anything, so I just took it in as it laid. Knowing how big Hoggin' is in OK, I am sure each mile of shore is put to proper redneck use. For the casual traveler, I just took it in as beautiful, which it is, especially when I had no idea it was even here.
OK is big on Turnpikes, and I have already logged many a mile on one turnpike or another. This time, since US 64 basically follows the same path as the Cimmaron Turnpike, I decided I would take the free road, and see all the small towns along the way. They absolutely did not let me down. In many ways, smalltown OK is the land that time forgot. Town squares, old "downtowns", ghosts of mom-n-pop's past and WalMart present, Sonic Drive-Ins, and an occasional old movie theatre or remnant of roller-rink memories gone by. Even in rolling past the Git-n-Gallup or the Tank-n-Tummy (not making those up), it dawned on me that Roadside Oklahoma is many a coffee table book just waiting to happen.
While I didn't arrive in OK with a grasp of what comprises "local" cuisine, I was aware of the Stillwater institution Eskimo Joes. You can buy their freakin' shirts and hats at the OKC airport (though I think OKC is closer to being OU country.) Since I was within range of Stillwater, I decided I simply had to go and see if Eskimo Joes was up to snuff.
I should admit from the outset that I did cheat on my veggie lifestyle while in Oklahoma. I often cheat on it when traveling since it is very difficult to be on the road in unfamiliar environs, and remain true. I am not a vegan, nor a rabid vegetarian, so occasional forays into the preferred dead animal flesh of the area are undertaken both of necessity and out of a quest to see what it is that makes it so appealing to the locals. In this case, I thought I might get by with a plate of the famed Chili Cheese Fries, and pick the beef out of the chili, but when I actually saw it on another person's plate, I realized the folly of trying that. Their chili is basically a ball of meat with the occasional bean in it. Sigh. Since I was going to cross the line on the beef front, I decided to also sample a hamburger so that I could be sure I had actually given Eskimo Joes a fair airing.
All I can say is that it was all very good, and I am sure those who love to eat that way will never be disappointed. I don't eat that way, and though I can appreciate it for what it is, my body is still reeling from what amounts to an all-beef IV drip. It deserves its fame, but for me, once is sufficient. In my defense, California has spoiled me on produce. I basically don't like crappy produce of the likes that most of the country is stuck with. Since they don't really produce much in the way of fresh veggies in OK (ok, they do, but I saw no farmer's market, and I didn't have time to track down the one or two co-ops in that part of the state), I ate like a local most the time I was there.
Eventually, I made my way into Enid proper. I saw their lawn of the month.
I got out and grabbed some shots of the local grain elevators - which really are the highlight of a visit to Enid (save for my sister's family, naturally.)
I crusied around over the weekend and caught a few shots of private locomotives, and grabbed a shot of these two shortline rental locomotives.
I went to the main BNSF Rail Yard and watched a few stack trains come through. Enid is a real railroad town, and there is no end to my pleasure of watching the trains come and go. You basically have a big BNSF east-west artery, a small BNSF line, a secondary UP line to OKC, and then some short line action. Enid rings with the sound of locomotive horns day and night, and I love the town for it. I would never be bored if I could find a house perfectly situated near the junction of the UP and BNSF lines off of "downtown", especially around harvest time when they load up the endless grain hopper trains at the mega elevators. It really is a site to see.
Of course, my real purpose for being in rural Northwest Oklahoma is to visit Ellie, Brian, and baby Ben. I feel bad imposing on them when I am sure they want to relax, so I try to not act like a guest. I try not to need too much, ask for too much, and try to fit in with the plans for the weekend. This has worked out well. I was lucky to be there in time for the pumpkin shopping, but also, bro-in-law Brian shares my interest in Mixed Martial Arts, so we are easily able to just chill with the endless MMA programming they get with HDNet (a channel I don't have.) There is all that college football too. I usually couldn't care less, but when in Oklahoma, it is just easier to get into it since they really do seem to live for it (and not much else.) All in all, most relaxing.
While I try getting along, and sticking to the program, I do have my Left Coast Snark on stand-by for anything I might spot that allows me to reconfirm my worst Red State Biases. Naturally, I was counting McCain signs versus Obama signs (I saw less than a dozen Obama and hundreds of McCain over my 3 days in northern OK.) I also look for evidence of the glassy-eyed God-nut culture, and at the end of the day, there really is no sport in it. It is everywhere. It is more a challenge to look for its absence. I mean, one can't buy a pumpkin without supporting more Whitey Missionaries looking to convert the natives. And yes, OK calendars also read 2008.
Alas, the time all too quickly came for me to make my way back to Tulsa, and then back home to NorCal. I decided to soak in more virgin mileage, so I made my way back to the airport via as many different roads as I could. I didn't entirely change things since I had things I wanted to go back and see again, but I got enough virgin mileage in to add copious amounts of Good Livin' to the weekend, not the least of which was seeing the locomotive action in Perry, OK, including the awesome old station.
Route 64 runs alongside the BNSF east-west main, so I caught many a train as I drove. Naturally, this gave me a jolt. As it just so happened, my rental car didn't have a hookup for iPods, but it did have XM radio. I didn't get to narrate the countryside with music entirely of my choice, but they did have an all AC/DC channel. Racing trains across the plains to If You Want Blood (You Got It) is sublime. Were that all of humanity could experience it just as I did, you would likely sense the years of life being added to each who heard and saw and felt it. Add to that the fact that I also caught Iron Maiden's Run To The Hills as my pony galluped hard through dust clouds and barren wastes, and you would understand what it is to leave one's body - to float above the pain of the world. Sigh.
When I went through Pawnee on the way to Enid, I just missed seeing the Stillwater short line railroad heading out after a meet with the BNSF. I heard it, I saw the tail end, but as seemed to happen often on the trip, I couldn't get a shot of the engines; and for a train nerd, that is what I want when in exotic territory. Sigh.
While I never got onto high enough ground to get a true "bird's eye" view of things, occasionally I would hit a crest and realize just how nuanced the beauty of Oklahoma is. I have gone on and on about this elsewhere, but my time in Iowa taught me that every place will eventually reveal its beauty to you if you are open to it and patient. OK is no California, and it doesn't always hit one over the head, but on occasion, its beauty is self-apparent and pretty spectacular. I am not the photographer to make that case, nor the storyteller, but I can verify that it is there to be seen if you try even a little bit.
While the ride between Enid & Tulsa is relatively short, it did remind me how profoundly I love being on THAT kind of road. Travel generically has become hellish to me. I really would just rather be at home than fly-in and fly-out of somewhere. Anywhere. However, on this trip, I was reminded of just how much I love the backroads of the US. I am getting better and better at being able to look at a map and figure out where the plums are, and when I finally get the chance to get out and take in someplace new and spectacular, it is smothering. I love it. To be on the open road racing a train across the plains pleases me primally. Even without the train, rolling along backroad America is incredibly nourishing to the soul for me. Were I free, that is where I would be.
But alas, I ain't free in that sense. Planes to catch, bills to pay. Eventually, I had to make my way back into Tulsa, and get myself gone. There was some funk in Tulsa, but it definitely had that feel of abandoned downtown mid-size city of center-US. I am not sure what industry anchors the city at this point (oil? grain?), but it seems to not have fared as well as it once did.
I did have enough time to hunt down the old train station, an activity I always undertake first time into a new town. I am not sure how/why Tulsa or Oklahoma would need a jazz museum of any kind, but I'll be damned if the train station itself hadn't been converted to a Jazz Hall Of Fame of sorts. Perhaps the history of jazz can be traced back to Tulsa, but that isn't the version of events I am familiar. I know just enough about it all to be thoroughly confused.
And speaking of confused...in closing, I recommend ya visit my collection of shots from the signs on this farm outside Perry OK. Given the effort this home has put in to trying to get their story out, I was surprised to not see any heavy promotion of a related URL on any of the signs.
Let's be honest, these people have basically turned their front yard into a giant weblog. Perhaps they did so long before the internet was available to them; or more mind-blowingly, they had a choice to take it online, but decided that a long-form roadside storyboarding was the right tool for the job. Maybe that's the best way to see the work they have done - instead of using keyword conquesting or search engine marketing to aggregate a proper audience for their life-editorial & personal-jouralism, they decided that US Highway 64 aggregates a more targeted audience. The billboard beats the weblog in getting the urgent narrative of their lives! The time investment to go analog has to be many multiples higher than putting the story online and getting the URL on the roadside signs. That was a choice.
As a washed-up New Economy Thought Leader, I must say I am fascinated when I come upon (what I consider to be) the analog ancestors of the weblog. That I found it roadside in rural Oklahoma makes it all the better.
Posted by rudayday at October 29, 2008 08:07 PM