Friday, August 28, 2020

My month in Oklahoma

My take on Oklahoma

where I went this month
As you can see, I really tried to get around the state but ended up missing that whole east-central area.  That's where Lake Eufala, OK's largest lake, and McAlester are, both of which I'd wanted to visit.  But I didn't push myself as hard this month as I've done in the past and something had to give, because Time sure doesn't.  Fortunately, I've seen that area before, in fact, just a few months ago when I headed south from Joplin down to David & Anna's house for the stupid virus hiatus.  It just would have been nice to see it now too.

Oklahoma's land
I had no idea there was such a range of geographic features in this state. 

From about Tulsa east there're forests and mountains and boggy land - well, Arkansas and the Ozarks are the neighbors to the east and landforms don't stop at state borders. 

The farther west I went, the drier the land became - and the more stickers we saw.  What the west had mostly were farms of various kinds and evidence of prehistoric geographic changes.  The land became less hospitable as I traveled west, and I'm guessing life became harder for the folks living there.

Basically, what OK has is mountains in the south and east, and plains in the central and western areas, with lots of rivers throughout.  Because OK was in partial drought all this month, with little rain falling to alleviate that, the rivers and lakes were shallower than usual.

Oklahoma's people
Most of the people I met were pleasant and friendly.  And not one of them showed any enthusiasm for where they live.  At first, I thought I'd just found the wrong folks to talk to, but as the month went on it became striking.  I asked more and more people just to see if I could find anybody who liked their town and never did.  Many people said there was nothing to do in wherever we were.  But in general what I got was just a shrug.

OK's Indians are proud of their heritage and want to educate as many people as possible both about their heritage and also about their dealings with the US government, past and present.

Other than what I've already said, I can't tell you the feelings of white Oklahomans.  I don't know if they're proud or ashamed or indifferent of their heritage and their present.  Nobody volunteered much information, though they were willing to answer questions.  It made it hard to get a clear impression of them.

Driving in Oklahoma
This went better than I'd expected.  OK being immediately north of Texas, I expected drivers here to behave a lot like Texans and am glad to report that they didn't.

The roadways are mostly in good repair, or were being repaired while I was there.  Highway signs were pretty clear both in telling me where I was and in explaining what they wanted me to do.  Some of the towns were pretty casual about street signs, assuming local knowledge I guess.  But the highway department didn't let me get lost very often, which I really appreciated.

The only time all month I heard a horn honking was when somebody's car alarm went off.  Nobody at all honked at traffic lights or on the highway or anywhere.  Most unlike Texans.

What I didn't see that I wanted to see
Quite a bit, actually.  In the daily posts I've already mentioned several places that I hadn't planned for or that were virus-closed.  And as I said above, I'd have liked very much to spend some time in the east-central part of the state - there's a lot to see there.  But here's a partial list of what I missed - mostly due to time constraints:

  • various tribal museums that were temporarily virus-closed
  • Tallgrass Prairie Preserve
  • a windmill museum at Shattuck
  • Langston & Boley, among 24 towns established by Blacks early in OK's history, some of them with historic buildings and Black heritage exhibits
  • Guthrie, unchanged since the late 1800s, including OK's Territorial Museum
  • Norman, home of Univ. of OK and various other sights
  • Arcadia, site of the only round barn still standing along Rte. 66 - after learning about round barns in Indiana, I'd have liked to see this one
  • McAlester has a memorial to coal miners I wanted to visit - OK isn't a state I connect with coal mining, but apparently it still goes on

My conclusion
In general, I liked Oklahoma.  I felt comfortable here almost all the time.  That's not at all what I expected but it's a fact.

I think OK's attitude toward life might be exemplified in its approach to the coronavirus.  State government doesn't seem to have taken much, if any, of a lead in combating it, but local and tribal governments are.  In many areas I found few or no restrictions but in many others I found city- or county-wide mask mandates.  At the tribal casinos, not only are masks required at all times (except eating) but they also take the temperature of each person coming in, and refuse entry to anyone with a fever. 

What was interesting to me is that in the places where there were no virus controls, people generally acted as if nothing were wrong; but in the places were there were controls, people obeyed them. 

OK is a very Republican state and support for Pres. Trump is very strong throughout the state.  It looks as if the folks here are taking their cues from him about this virus and ignore its existence where at all possible.  But unlike him, they're also respectful of authority.  I'm wondering about the internal stresses this dichotomy might be causing on the social fabric here.  This might be something interesting to watch in the future.

What I'm sorry I couldn't get a handle on, though, is why the universal feeling here seems to be that this isn't a great place to live.  Except for the stickers throughout the west, I liked it here, though I too don't think I'd want to live here.  It's not a 2-party state and it's too far from an ocean to make me happy.


Oklahoma - Day 29 - The Panhandle

Black Mesa State Park, Kenton
Saturday, 29 August 2020


today's route
Today we covered a little more than the length of OK's panhandle which itself is 181 miles long - more than 1/3 of the length of the state.

It started with our early morning walk at Boiling Springs State Park.  Gracie stopped our forward progress so she could roll around on her back for awhile, and a nearby tent camper who was taking his first stretch of the day saw us and said, "Somebody's not taking their walk very seriously."  Which I thought was a funny view on the situation.

That was followed by an encounter with a clueless fawn.  As we were driving out of the park, we saw a fawn standing on the side of the road ahead of us.  Of course I slowed down to a crawl but was sure it'd bound away when we got closer.  But it didn't.  It just stood there until our hood was actually alongside it, and only then did it decide to head off the road.  Mama was over in the bushes eating breakfast the whole time and scarcely paid any attention.  But maybe they can read: I saw signs saying the state park is a wildlife refuge so hunting isn't allowed.

We stopped in Woodward so I could walk the dogs before we began the drive across the Panhandle, and I came across this building for sale.

It needs some work but it's still a beautiful building.  I hope someone can think of something to do with it and has the money to invest in making it proud again.  It sits on half a city block of land of its own.

From Woodward, we continued out of town on US 412, the road we'd taken from Mooreland yesterday.  And we stayed on US 412 all the way to Boise City, at the other end of the Panhandle.  Easiest directions yet.

In the town of Fort Supply, we passed the Fort Supply Historical Site.  I understand it's not open every day of the week but is worth the visit if you can get there.  It was built in the late 1860s and was a supply post for the Red River War of 1874.  When it was decommissioned it served as the first state mental institution in 1907 and later as a prison.  It's probably happier now as a historic site.

I kept seeing signs all along the road saying this road was "Governor George Nigh's Northwest Passage."  Apparently, one of the times he was governor, he talked the Legislature into allocating money to upgrade this highway - aka State Highway 3 - that runs from Broken Bow, in the far southeast corner of OK, up to Boise City and then north to Colorado.  Critics called it the Road to Nowhere, which must not have pleased the folks living along it, but Nigh got it done.

I passed a sign saying Log Cabin Corner, just as if I were at a town, but I didn't see a town and it's not on the AAA map, so who knows what that sign was about.

I passed through mostly scrubland with plenty of cows.  But where farmers irrigated I saw fields of cotton and hay.

I passed through Slapout (that's a town).  In the 2000 census it had a population of 10.  It was started as a store built during the Depression by a man who said he had nothing else to do so he thought he'd start a town.  The world needs more creativity.

The nice thing about US 412 is that, though it's actually a 2-lane roadway, it's got plenty of passing lanes.  It's heavily used by semis and, of course, by local folks.  And at Boise City you can pick up highways into Colorado or down to Dalhart, TX.

I passed open land, grazing land, and any trees were cedars and/or junipers.

Along the way highway signs told me often of turns I could take that'd take me down to Texas towns and, occasionally, north to Kansas towns.

I saw oil wells, both working and non-working, wind farms, a large gas compressor station.

I knew I was driving toward OK's highest point (Black Mesa, at 4,973') and kept expecting to see mountains on the horizon, but all I could see were clouds.

I passed a building labeled Balko Public Schools - Home of the Bison - and the town of Balko is labeled on the map, but I saw zero town.  Just that school building.  Not even a gas station or convenience store.  A little ways down the road I saw several houses sitting on their various farms, but I'm still not sure where the town was.

I passed a big field of corn.  I'd noticed that many of the crops I'd seen had been planted in a circle, because that's the arc that the irrigation machine allowed.  I know that's why because I saw an irrigator in action.  Out here, no irrigation, no crops apparently.

At Bryan's Corner I saw a sign advertising caliche for sale.  I knew there was caliche around here.

We stopped for a break at a roadside table in the town of Hardesty and I found this historical marker.

Note that Old Hardesty lasted only 20 years.  But I suppose that was typical of the towns in those times - built for a purpose, then abandoned when that purpose stopped existing.

I think I've mentioned it before, but there are a lot of cemeteries in Oklahoma, and every last one of them seems to be noted with a highway sign.  Not their names, just that you can turn on this road to get to a cemetery.  After a month of this, it's started to seem odd.

I started passing large fields planted with a grain that looks like yellow maize.  Later I figured out it's sorghum.  Sorghum seems old fashioned to me - something my older relatives would use - but I've learned it's still used in cereals for people and in food for animals.  Live and learn.

Coming into a town, I saw a sign saying, "Welcome to Guymon, An American Original."  I'm not real sure why they're claiming that as a slogan or nickname or whatever.  It looked like your basic town to me.  I will say their Main Street still has brick streets and are hard to drive on (good old asphalt).

I saw several signs saying something about No Man's Land, but I could never figure out why.  Now that I've looked it up I know that No Man's Land is what the Panhandle was called, apparently because for many years it was used only seasonally by Indians, and controlled by the Comanche.  It didn't look like real hospitable land to me, but I guess most of that comfortable land had already been taken.

What I was seeing was mostly very flat grain fields and scrubland.

Still heading west, passing a sign that said turn left to Texhoma (on the OK/TX border) or turn right to Elkhart KS.  Still heading toward OK's highest point, next to the mountains in both NM and CO, yet I was still seeing zero mountains.  It was getting a little odd.

Finally, we got to Boise City, which has a very nice-looking RV park in town, by the way, and a sign saying Black Mesa summit is 20 miles straight ahead.  And STILL no mountains.

Now the only vegetation I'm seeing are lots of cactus and low grasses.  I started wondering whether stickers and cactus bother horses and cows?  They sure bother my dogs, though their feet are very different.

I found the turnoff for the state park and found the road practically paved with cattle guards.

And then I realized where the mountains were: I was on them.  I'm sure there's actual mountains somewhere nearby, but I got a view of the horizon that showed me I was already up quite a way.

that's all cactus and low grass covering the ground
The state park is down in a bowl, and as the road started dropping down, I could see the surrounding country.  Those mesas or buttes or whatever you call those landforms are probably pretty high - I just couldn't see them from the road, which must have been at the same height.

We drove gradually down to the Black Mesa State Park.  The campground is fairly small and down in a bowl that's down in a bowl.  It's still not the lowest point, though, which I could tell by the view.

The park office was closed, though the sign said it should be open.  Maybe just one staff person who was out doing rounds or maintenance or something.  I finally figured out where my space was - a back-in, not a pull-thru like I'd thought.  And once I was parked (on a slope, too bad) I got my first unpleasant surprise: stickers galore.  They grew up into the graveled campsite, they were thick around the water spigot and around the electrical plug-in column.

I finally spent about 15 minutes pulling sticker plants out of the ground just so my dogs could get out of the RV and walk out of our campsite without getting thoroughly stuck.  Several plants full of stickers grew right where I had to park, and I was only able to avoid them because I'm a person, with shoes, and with experience of sticker plants.  The dogs don't wear shoes and haven't run into stickers much until western OK so still don't recognize them by sight.  I was pretty peeved about having to do that kind of housework that seems like basic maintenance for a state campground.

And as soon as we left the RV for a walk, we were deluged by flies.  The kind that bite.  They were all over us and were very persistent - not the kind that could be waved away, or even swatted away very easily.  I spent the whole walk trying to keep them off Dext (with his thin coat) and off me.  Even Gracie was bothered by them a little.

Part way through the evening, a terrific rain-, lightning- and thunder-storm came barreling through.  Scared the dogs a lot.  Gracie had already started agitating for a walk when the thunder started and the wind started blowing the RV around.  I would have taken her out into the driving rain if I'd had to but decided to wait and see if it passed.  It did.

But the flies and stickers were waiting for us when we went out.

And here's the odd thing - we seemed to be the only ones having these problems.  I saw for myself that most of the other campsites didn't have stickers.  And I didn't see a soul having trouble with the flies.  A couple in their 30s were down the way a bit, hanging around outside, taking their dog for a walk, playing cornhole, making no moves at all to suggest flies were bothering them.  I saw another pair out for a walk along the ridge above the campground, and they were moseying up the trail, stopping to talk along the way, not flapping their arms or slapping their necks or making any moves to suggest a fly problem.  I saw another family farther away, and an older couple, both sets sitting outside, eating supper, enjoying the view, with apparently no fly problem.  But we were swarmed.

By the time we'd taken our last walk for the day, I was already trying to figure out where else we could go.  We had reservations at a state park in CO on the 1st, but I'd already paid $25/night for the next 2 nights here.  I couldn't decide if giving up $50 just to get out of here was worth it.  And I didn't have an internet signal down in that bowl so I couldn't look anything up to see if there were vacancies - this being a weekend, after all.  But when I went to bed, I'd finally calmed down and decided maybe it wasn't as bad as I'd thought, maybe it'd be better in the morning, the dogs and I'd figure out how to make this work.


Oklahoma - Day 28 - Boiling Springs campground

Boiling Springs State Park, Woodward
Friday, 28 August 2020

Except that there were a lot of stickers, this was a nice campground and we were comfortable.  There weren't more than half a dozen of us, even on the weekend.  I guess people are saving up for Labor Day.

I had to drive into Mooreland to get an internet signal during the day.  Park staff had told me today was predicted to be the hottest of the year, and I guess it was: 110° - 113°, depending on who was doing the reporting.  Hot any way you look at it.  The staff told me it was typical for unusual heat to precede a cold front, which they said was expected for tomorrow.

Of course I didn't plan well and had to clean the windshield when we got back to the park.  This was at 4 PM, meaning the hottest time of the day.  The heat felt like an insult to my system and took a while to recover from.  Definitely not as dry a heat as I'd expect.

This campground has some nice Black Locust trees and some Chinaberry trees - a decent amount of shade at most campsites.

On our early morning walk today I saw a flock of 15-20 wild turkeys.  I stopped dead when I saw them to try not to scare them and to try not to alert the dogs.  The turkeys just gradually moved away from us and the dogs didn't notice them until they were almost out of sight.  It helped that we still had low light levels - I don't think we could have gotten away with it in broad daylight.  As it was, it was just peaceful for me.

Three does and their fawns came out to eat in the evening.  Dexter thought about growling at them, but I was so fascinated he stopped being aggressive and just sat and watched them the whole time I took these (and other) photos and the 2 videos below.  This too was really peaceful.

I had trouble posting these videos, by the way, so if they don't work, let me know and I'll redo them.  I'm posting them in the order I took them in.

























Oklahoma - Day 27 - to Woodward & Boiling Springs State Park

Boiling Springs State Park, Woodward
Thursday, 27 August 2020


today's route
We had a very short drive today, Alabaster Caverns State Park being only about 30 miles from Boiling Springs State Park.  So I didn't try to rush out of this morning's campground and didn't speed on our way to the second.

Driving south on State Hwy. 50 from Alabaster Caverns, we passed plenty of farms and hay and cows.

Mooreland, pop. about 1,200, was founded in 1901 as "Moreland" and petitioned for a US post office.  Somewhere along the way, a typo occurred and Moreland became Mooreland.  The residents were glad to get the post office and didn't try to complicate matters by changing the name.

Mooreland says it's the home of the 2004 Miss Oklahoma.  I can state from personal experience that it's also the home of a whole lot of railroad traffic.  The state highway runs through the middle of town and, of course, crosses the railroad tracks.  When I got there, the warning arms were down and the signal was dinging like crazy.  Aside from those clues, a train was stopped on the track, blocking all the crossings in town.  And it stayed stopped.

And it continued to stay stopped.  Finally, after I'd been waiting for maybe 15 minutes (and I don't know how long the folks ahead of me had been waiting), a train came speeding through on the other track.  I thought, fine, now we'll get to go, but nope.  I waited still another 10 or 15 minutes and the dogs were getting restless.  They couldn't understand why we were stopped but I wasn't doing anything.  Specifically, they thought I should be taking them for a walk.

So when nothing happened and nothing continued to happen, I got really tired of hearing that continual ding-ding-dinging without getting any apparent benefit from it and pulled out of line and drove off on a side road to find a place to park.  You know how it is when you switch lines because you think another one is moving faster and then the first one gets unclogged and off everybody goes except you.  And sure enough, I'd barely gotten parked when a second train came speeding through and then FINALLY that stopped train moved and the dinging stopped and all the traffic moved again.  But in the meantime, the dogs got a short walk and I worked off some frustration.

As we drove down the road and turned west on US 412, I saw 2 more trains come along that track in the opposite direction from the 2 earlier.  It's a busy train track around there.

We passed up the turn to the state park and went on into Woodward to the grocery store there.  I know it looks like I spend all my time stopping at grocery stores, but the ones I found here in OK just didn't have the selection I would have expected.  Odd, really.  It's not like there aren't any people in OK or that the ones here don't eat.  Anyway, the one in Woodward wasn't any better than the others.

Woodward, established in 1887, has about 12,000 residents, which I'd think would have been enough to get a decent grocery store.  Oh well.  What they do have is a church called Ignite Church.  Their sign posted the "Experience Times" instead of times for church services.  I'm guessing that's what they substitute for because these "experience times" were at the usual church service times.  Sorry, but I already lived through the '60s and '70s and, while they were fun, I don't feel the need to do it again.

Boiling Springs State Park
At the park office, I got some basic information about the background of the place.







What I was most interested in, though, was this business of boiling springs.

Geology





































Watch the spring "boil."  Actually, the boiling these days happens
where it bubbles up from the ground.  It used to be a strong enough flow
that it would boil on the surface too.  Well, we all get a little weaker with time.

The Old Pump House


the CCC-built pump house













detail of the hinges - some of those
CCC boys did some really nice work



These exhibits are right behind the park office.  There's a paved path leading down to the level below the office, where I took that photo of the spring. 

From these exhibits, the path leads into the woods on a walking trail.  The dogs would have been happy to go farther, but I was boiling hot - it being the hottest time of the day - and I was ready to get to our campsite and call it a day.

It turned out that even though it was a Thursday, there were only 2 or 3 other campers - with no dogs or kids.  So I'd say we got really lucky.


Oklahoma - Day 26 - Alabaster Caverns campground & environs

Alabaster Caverns State Park, Freedom
Wednesday, 25 August 2020

Today I spent in the campground, which is right by the park office and the gathering point for cave tours.  After reading this notice about the tour, though, I decided to give it a miss.  I'm just not interested in going up and down 330 stair steps for much of anything, even for the chance to see rare forms of alabaster.  A description of what can be seen is below.



Geology


sign: A Cavern In Gypsum
(text enlarged below)

detail from sign



























more information below



















found on the same sign as the one above
























Cedar Canyon

my first view of Cedar Canyon - evening,
with the sun setting behind me














different view of the same canyon in the morning
with the sun rising just to the right of this photo











for text, see detail below









detail about Cedar Canyon

































this is what "prairie grassland" looks like















This redbud was planted in memory of those
who were killed in the Oklahoma City bombing.

State symbols that can be found in this state park
The only ones of these I saw were the redbuds and the Indian Blanket, but I was assured the bats were in the caverns and have no trouble believing the others are here too.
































































Staying in the campground
This is a small campground, with only 10 campsites.  I was the only person staying here on both nights and felt a little vulnerable.  I think one of the staff was living in the mobile home not far from the office, but I never saw anyone coming or going from there so couldn't tell for sure.

I felt even more vulnerable when I realized during the first night that there were no lights on at the campground.  In fact, the only light on anywhere in the vicinity was at the rear of the park office.  That ended up being a whole lot of blackness, which I haven't encountered at any campground in all this traveling.

There weren't even any lights on at the bathrooms and I was very glad I had a bathroom of my own.  I suppose they turn the bathroom light on when there're more campers - for liability if for no other reason.  Though maybe not.  There's a lot of talk these days about light pollution and minimizing lights at night to allow more views of the night sky.  Maybe that's what they were doing.  But it was a little unnerving.

Other than those things, we were pretty comfortable here.  There were a lot of stickers around, though not quite as many as at previous campgrounds, and I had to watch where the dogs were walking.  And we ran into swarms of gnats or something a few times when we went out walking, which was discouraging.  But in general, this was a good place and I was glad to pick up an internet signal so I could try to catch up on these posts.

One bird that I saw that I haven't seen before is a Mississippi Kite.  At least I think that must be what it was.  What I saw was a mostly gray bird with white bands on its narrow, pointed wings.  This kite is the only one in the bird book that fit that description and could be expected in this area.

The dogs and I kept bothering it, by accident of course.  We often seemed to walk where it wanted to be, and it always flew off in a huff, though I tried to apologize.  His coloring was good and I didn't notice him until he flew off.


Oklahoma - Day 25 - Little Sahara & Alva

Alabaster Caverns State Park, Freedom
Tuesday, 25 August 2020


The section of Little Sahara State Park campground that I stayed in had 4 rows that looked just like this.  Except I was the only person who stayed here overnight.

From what I saw when the dogs and I walked around some of the other sections this morning, there were only a few other campers spread out in this very large campground.

I was surprised to get a good internet signal but noticed this morning that the local internet company had a large station just across the road from where I was, to cater to the multitudes that are usually in the campground, I suppose.


You can just see at the back of the photo above that there are sand dunes there.  This photo at the right is what's there.  I'd thought it was an entrance to the dunes for the folks with ORVs but then I found a fairly efficient fence installed with signs to keep out.  I think people had been destabilizing the dunes right here and the park folks were trying to protect them.

This sand reminded me of the sand at Padre Island - it seemed about the same color and texture.

Gracie loved rolling around in the sand here.  She'd end up with her nose and eyes full of it and I'd have to clear them out.  It reminded me of a story I'd heard about little kids growing up in the Dust Bowl having as one of their chores to clean out the nostrils of the farm animals several times a day from all the blowing dust.


I saw these little flowers growing at the dunes - they're the green you can see in the photo above.  Maybe it was the angle of the sun, but they seemed almost translucent to me and quite pretty.

I spotted tracks that I'd thought belonged to a raccoon and a rabbit.  Later I learned that, while there are rabbits in the park, what I'd seen were probably deer tracks.  But I think I was right about the raccoon.


The photo at left is really for my memory.  The aerial view I'd gotten from Google made it look like the campground was covered in sand, and I was a little worried we'd get stuck in it.

Instead what I found was practically caliche.  And now that I've looked that up online, I think it might have actually been caliche, which Wikipedia tells me occurs in the Kalahari Desert, the Mojave Desert, and the High Plains of the western US.  Well, this is the High Plains, so maybe that's what it is.

Anyway, not a chance of getting stuck in it.  Instead, it was hard for the dogs to walk on, especially Gracie who seems to have tender feet.  Plus there were plenty of stickers lining the roadway, making it hard for the dogs to find any place to do bathroom business.  Not really a hospitable place, though certainly quiet.

I could see from driving through the campground that it was set up for people to enjoy off-road driving - extra space for them to park their tow vehicles, for instance, and directions to the entrance to the sand dunes.

They'd been surprised when I checked in yesterday at the park office that I wasn't here to do ORVing - I'd just come to see the sand dunes - and they told me where to rent equipment if I changed my mind.  They also told me about an observation platform I could visit, and that was my first stop today.

Because I was already at Little Sahara, I decided to do a little exploring before I left.  I was still finding it hard to believe there was a bunch of sand plunked down in the middle of ordinary Oklahoma farmland.

today's route
I found these signs at the base of the pathway to the observation platform, and I'll put them here even though I didn't find them particularly informative.





















As you can see, most of this information is slanted towards the ORV crowd.  So here's what I learned from other sources:

The Panhandles of OK and TX were once covered with a vast, shallow sea.  About 250 million years ago, the sea began filling with red shale and white gypsum.  The gypsum crystals formed in the compacted layers of rock, then got buried under more sediment.

Over a long period of time, this area was raised along with the Rocky Mountains (and probably drained whatever was left of that sea).  Millions of years of erosion from prairie winds and summer rainstorms exposed the red sediments and shiny gypsum crystals.

Little Sahara was created 11,000 years ago and is made of vast deposits of quartz from when a prehistoric version of the Cimarron River covered the entire area.  I crossed today's Cimarron River when I came into the campground yesterday and can state it's a lot smaller now.  Note that Little Sahara isn't all that far from Quartz Mountain, as the crow flies, so I guess that quartz is related to this quartz.

These sand dunes created by erosion are constantly moved by wind, weather and ORVs.  They're called "walking hills" and move about a foot a year to the northeast.

And that's how a big batch of sand dunes came to appear in the middle of mountains and red dirt.

Little Sahara Observation Center


They call it a "center" though I don't know why.  Instead it's a paved pathway that climbs at quite a steep angle in places with a few benches and interpretive signs along the way (mostly the how-to-stay-safe-on-an-ORV type), ending in an observation platform where, frankly, I couldn't observe much of the sand dunes at all.

This photo above is about the best view I had from there.  I took the 2 videos below, both of which are very short, because I was trying to show the extent of the dunes and the mountains in the background.  Neither of those things seems to have been very clear.

What's extremely clear is how hard the wind was blowing.  That's the sound you hear that drowns out the cicadas (which were as loud as a brass band to me) and the distant sounds of the one ORV that was on the dunes when we were there.  Interesting how our ears tune out some sounds, because I never heard the wind and that's the dominant feature of these videos.  Anyway, I tried.
































On the platform itself there were several signs about the history of nearby Waynoka, whose brush with fame seems to have been visits by Charles Lindbergh and Amelia Earhart.  There were also signs about the park's wildlife and about the history of the local Indians.
































































I'd mentioned at the park office that I noticed miles of grasses and assumed it was either hay or for cattle grazing, but I hadn't seen many cows.  They told me there're a lot more cows here than I think, but also that the fields could have been growing hay or alfalfa or wheat.

But that explains why I've seen fields with rows of cut grain just lying on the ground: based on that information I picked up about hay bales, the grain has to dry out before it's rolled up, to keep it from mildewing before it's used.

I passed through Waynoka on my way north and got the impression it exists entirely for the local farmers and the ORV tourism.  Their only grocery store is basically an expanded version of a convenience store, so folks must make a weekly shopping trip to somewhere else.

I'd taken a look at the map and decided to go through Alva on my way to tonight's campground.  It's the largest town in the area and only a little out of the shortest route.  Plus I thought it more likely to have a decent grocery store than any other town and, since Waynoka sure didn't, I was glad I'd made the plan.

Alva
Coming into town I saw a sign advertising Alva State Bank & Trust Co.: "Older than Oklahoma."  Sure enough, it was founded in 1901 and OK didn't become a state until 1907.

The town of Alva (pop. about 5,000) was established in 1893, their sign says.  It seems to have made a concerted effort to become a city of murals.  I saw several more than these I took photos of.




























This next one isn't exactly a mural, but it covered a lot of the side of the high school gym and, besides, is an interesting story.


Back on the road
As I was leaving town I passed the Cherokee Strip Museum and noticed its sign: "Hours Monday-Friday 10-5; Saturday varies; Sunday closed."  I've noticed that the hours on a lot of these smaller museums vary, but they're not usually as honest about it.  The Cherokee Strip, by the way, is the section of land that runs between the Panhandle in the west and the Osage Nation in the east up here in northern OK.  The Cherokee had been forced to move here on the Trail of Tears, and after the Civil War had been forced to relinquish title to their land, which in 1893 became the site of the largest land run in the US.  If I'd had more time to spend, I'd have been interested to see what the museum had to say about it.

Texas Longhorn
I passed a field with a small herd of cows that had horns in a shape I haven't seen before.  I've looked cow horns up online and my best guess is that they're some type of Texas Longhorn.  I got this photo off the internet, but it shows the best approximation I could find to what I saw.  See how her horns go out, then curve up, and then curve back?  The horns on the cows I saw were like that only a little more compact.  Since I thought all Longhorns had those really long drawn-out horns, I was surprised to find this photo of some that are shorter.

Today I've been passing farmland that's pretty flat with hills in the distance, lots of cows, and lots of Trump flags.  That seems to be the ambiance around here.

I've also been seeing quite a few Kansas license plates in this part of the state, but then it's only a few miles from here.

I came to the town of Freedom, pop. 289, and saw a sign saying it has been designated  "An Oklahoma Certified City."  I tried fairly diligently to find what a certified city is but came up only with something about a nationwide program to help cities encourage business growth.  Freedom, needless to say, is the smallest "city" in OK to get this designation.

And on to Alabaster Caverns State Park.