Saturday 12 June 2021
Lovely camping morning. It was downright chilly when we walked the dogs in the morning. The thermometer said 70 but a breeze was keeping us brisk. On our way back to Mammoth we saw the campground host, so we asked him about the smoking ban in Oklahoma State Parks.
He looked incredulous, and said, "Nobody told my wife about it." He'd quit smoking years ago, but his wife still smoked and sure enough, later I saw her out on the picnic table, having her morning cigarette.
It's really funny that he doesn't know. But that's okay with us--what he doesn't know, he won't be going to enforce. He said there wasn't even a Park Ranger for this park, just one who stopped by occasionally from another park and made more trouble than he was worth. But not trouble about smoking.
Sounds typical, that a state legislature would pass a ban on smoking in all state-owned properties, and not tell anyone about it. The only person who does know for sure is the software programmer who created the camping reservation system--when you make a reservation, you have to okay an acknowledgement of the park rules, which includes "no smoking. Anywhere on state-owned property. Period."
Enough. At least now Ed can enjoy his morning cigarette on the comfort of the concrete seat of his very own picnic table. I was feeling guilty that he wasn't going to be able to enjoy the outdoors at all, if he had to smoke in the RV bathroom with the fan on. We'll see if enforcement of the rules is just as lax at the next state park, Foss, where we're going in a few days.
After a comfy camping breakfast we set out to drive to the wildlife management area on the other side of the lake--Tom Sneed Reservoir. We didn't get far, though. Right after the road became interesting, a locked gate barred our way. So, no wildlife drive. Maybe we would catch something running through camp the following morning. I got up at 6:45 or so, earlier than my normal, but the sun was already way up and any creatures of the night gone back to bed.
So instead of a wildlife drive, I took Molly on a hiking trail. Right behind our group of campsites, there was a sign with an arrow pointing up, mounted on a pole that was stuck in a bright blue Lowe's Hardware bucket full of dirt. Trail!
It was a lovely hike. We clambered over boulders, ducked through woods, waded through grassy weeds--ouch! And--in my case--screamed and swore bloody murder when I brushed up against some stinging vine in the low shrubs. It was probably Thimblevine, same as we have back home in disturbed soil. I never saw it, but it hurt and went on hurting for about the same amount of time. Some fraction of eternity.
I was wearing my hiking sandals with no socks, of course. Big mistake. But other than the stinging, I would have been fine. I picked up a tick, but he didn't get far on his hasty journey. He'd barely gotten halfway up my leg before he was plucked off and thrown back. I hope a bird ate him.
I'd hoped the trail was going to take us all the way up to the top of the hill, a jumbled mess of boulders like this:
But we'd not quite gotten there when the trail started to veer off and head down, and I noticed another hiker off in the woods in front of us. Alone with Molly, I tend to be shy of other hiker, in the single. If there are hundred of hikers, who cares. But if there are just a couple of guys and they're moving quietly through the woods, I get paranoid. Too many horror stories in the news, I guess. And just last night I'd been reading about a couple of women murdered on the Appalachian trail....
Anyway, it was nearing time to head back. I didn't want to go all the way down to the Otter Creek campground, and without a map I had no idea where this trail was going. But it seemed to be headed that way. Actually I wouldn't have minded going down to the campground because then I could take the road back, rather than backtrack the route I'd come up on. It's always so boring to do an out-and-back, because any wildlife you might have seen have already been scared away. By you.
So we started back and hadn't gone far before we found ourselves ducking (only me, ducking--Molly didn't even notice) under some fallen trees. We were suddenly on the "blue flag" trail instead of the "orange flag" trail. It seemed to be going in the right direction, between the lake shore and the big hill that I'd hoped to climb to the top of. (I can't bring myself to call the big hill a mountain, but some people might.) The blue flag trail wasn't well marked but it was clearly a trail--no chance of getting lost. But after a while it turned to the right, away from the lake, and I had no way of knowing how far it would go on that way before it crossed the road.
Yes, I had my phone with its GPS, but I was treating it as a remedy of last resort. Kind of a hopeful fallback plan--if all else failed, I still had hope my phone would get me back. But if I tried it and it failed, I'd have to bushwhack across boulders, cactus and brushy weeds downhill toward the lake. Now, that would have been a way to see some wildlife!
But the morning was young, so Molly and I turned back and backtracked along the blue trail until we found a spot where a tree was tied with both blue and orange flags. I made a promise to myself I wouldn't go any farther afield until I found the next orange flag, but that was impossible. We were right in the midst of massive boulders, and no other flags in sight.
So we walked downhill...or rather, we clambered over boulders and slid down the downhill sides. It took two tries in different directions, but soon we found the next orange flag. Saved!
This has been a lot of words to describe a hike that took about an hour and a half. But it sure was fun.
Here was the view from as high as we made it:
Molly found a snake but couldn't catch it in the distance of the 4-foot leash. Poor puppy! (I wouldn't have let her have it anyway, but she didn't know that. I told her it was because the leash was too short.)
Why are these boulders lying around? I need to consult my geology book.
Later in the day:
It was still a lovely day--so far. But not for dogs--they got left behind. After taking showers, Ed and I left at about 2:30 to go to the Museum of the Great Plains. It was very good. Their sight-and-sound recreation of a tornado destroying a farm overhead while you cower in a storm cellar below was somewhat thrilling. Don't have your expectations overblown and go in with your imagination wide open. Imagine you, yourself, being right there--in a tiny, cluttered storm cellar with crashing and roaring all around you...and your family somewhere outside.
The exhibits were good, too, and a whole lot of hands-on. Some were for children but we enjoyed them too. Ed spend a remarkably long time in the theater watching a documentary on Judge Parker in Fort Smith and the black enforcers he had working for him, who was later honored with a statue. We then did the outside exhibits, not too exciting as we bypassed the builder where a couple of volunteer "interpreters" were holding forth. We were being shy.
ammonite
It was a little too early for supper, so we checked out the upstairs of the museum. It wasn't exhibits, though--it was a cool kids playground like at the Discovery Science Centers we've seen here and there. It would have be supremely great with kids.
Great place. So on we went went to the Old Plantation Restaurant in Medicine Park. We were shocked--out in the middle of nowhere, suddenly we ended up on a couple of narrow streets lined with parking and people in bathing suits and traffic and people walking every which a way. It appears that the whole area along Medicine Creek there is a prime swimming and rafting spot, and the crowds had gathered. It was wild.
But we lucked into a parking space and since it was only a little after five in the evening, a no-wait table in the restaurant. Great! I would have had the cedar planked salmon but (a) it was probably Atlantic Salmon and (b) farmed with great environmental impact and (c) thirty-four dollars. I "settled" for the second-best fried catfish I ever ate accompanied by the best sweet potato fries I ever ate, plus sauteed mixed vegetables that were darn near perfect and huge, fluffy rolls with cinnamony honey butter.
Wow. Stuffed we were. And pleasantly so. Great place. But I still needed to give Molly a nice long after supper walk to make up for our absence. I gave them both a short walk, then supper, and waited until the sun got a little lower in the sky, like maybe at eight o'clock, to give her the long walk she deserved. It was nice...but did I walk off any of that supper? Maybe.
n the road back we cut directly through the wildlife refuge.
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