Oh my. I had such low expectations for Oklahoma City that I was sure I was going to be pleasantly surprised. Sadly, I was not.
To be fair, my first impression of Oklahoma was a good one. About twelve miles inside the state line I came upon the Oklahoma Visitor's Center, which was also the most beautiful, fancy rest area I have ever seen in my life. We're talking Corian countertops, gleaming fixtures, stone floors, stalls with actual doors that locked...you name it. Oklahoma, it seems, is serious about making its visitors feel welcome. The center was staffed by two older ladies in american flag shirts and was decorated liberally with animal skins and wagon wheels. The actual helpful part (excepting of course the lovely bathrooms) was two giant banks of pamphlets and brochures in the center of the room, detailing any number of activities to be enjoyed in the state. Two things immediately caught my eye: first, a brochure for the bombing memorial because that is the only thing I think of when I think of Oklahoma City. I literally know nothing else about the city (and I'd like to say I know a whole lot more now that I've visted, but....) Secondly, I saw a brochure for the Oklahoma City Museum of Art, which featured on its cover a number of gorgeous works of glass art and a tagline that advertised "the largest Chihuly collection in the world" (!!!!)
It was already 2 and the art museum closed at 5 and the bombing memorial at 6, so I drove straight to the art museum. I was on my very last bit of clean laundry so I was wearing a fairly goobery white tank and blue short combo. Not my favorite, especially for going out in public. I didn't want to take the time to check in at my hotel and change though, so I sucked it up and went anyway. I also had my backpack since my shorts had no pockets, so I definitely looked like nerdy tourist girl. It was kind of good for me because I tend to feel self conscious when wearing certain things and this was a good example of why that is so unnecessary because nobody is looking at me. Anyway.
Parking is free in Oklahoma City on weekends, so I found a decent spot and walked a few blocks to the museum. It was seriously HOT outside, sun beating down, no breeze whatsoever. Walking into the museum, however, I was greeted with two fantastic things that made me forget about the hot weather. The first was a giant blast of conditioned air. The second was a giant Chihuly sculpture in the lobby of the museum. It was at least three stories tall and I didn't even bother to take a picture of it because I wouldn't be able to get it all in the frame, but it was fantastic (here is a picture). I proceeded to the front desk, bought my ticket, then headed right up to the third floor to see the Chihuly exhibit. I loved it. My favorite part was probably the hallway with a Chihuly ceiling. So beautiful.
After the Chihuly I drifted into other exhibits in the museum. There was a great kinetic art exhibit and another room dedicated to minimalist art that contained some interesting pieces (though there was one minimalist piece that was just two similar shapes arranged together, both painted the exact same shade of lavender that kind of annoyed me with its simplicity. What could any artist possibly be trying to say with that kind of work?). The other exhibits were mostly portaits which didn't interest me so much. I really enjoyed seeing the museum by myself because I could take exactly as much time as I wanted on each piece. I could linger with the ones I wanted to see more of and breeze right by the ones that didn't grab me. Another good experience for me.
When I had seen everything of value (to me), I took off. The heat slammed me in the face when I exited the museum and sucked every last impulse to see the bombing memorial right out of me, so I headed for my hotel. I was staying in the Econolodge, in a cluster of similarly priced hotels on Oklahoma City's west side. Only forty or so bucks a night, and it showed. I approached my (accidentally smoking instead of non-) room and with equal parts delight and apprehension noticed several rows of motorcycles in the motel's parking lot. Now I don't want to stereotype bikers, in fact I am sure they are all probably just enthusiastic, delightful people, but the vast numbers of them did give me pause. Some of them were outside their rooms, smoking and chatting to one another and I did my best to give them a friendly smile and wave, but they were not charmed enough to return the gesture. Just as well.
I carried my essential stuff into the room and headed out in search of food. Dinner acquired, I set about locking myself in my room for the rest of the evening. There was a deadbolt but no chain and the door didn't quite meet the frame, plus I was on the ground floor, so I felt a little exposed. It didn't help that five minutes after I sat on the bed (that caved in if you didn't sit exactly the right way, btw) the family in the room next to mine began a loud, shouty, violent fight. The walls in the Econolodge? Very thin. Also, our two rooms had once been adjoining so there was a door right there that would shake every time one of them slammed the door to the room (which happened often). It sounded like a mother and father and potentially two kids, one in his late preteens or early teens and one a bit younger. The father seemed to be the violent force but everyone was willing to join in on the shouting without too much trouble. The initial conflict was about chinese food that the one kid brought back that the younger kid didn't want to eat, but there were myriad other conflicts throughout the night that resulted in loud arguments. I turned the TV up as much as I could to try to drown them out without disturbing the people on the other side of me. There were moments when it got particularly heated and I considered intervening somehow, but I was worried that they would retaliate at me if they knew I had said something (They were in the room on the end so I would be the only one who could have heard) and I rationalized that it probably wouldn't do much good anyway. It really broke my heart every time I heard one of those kids crying though...and it happened at least five times that night.
The next day I packed up my things, eager to get the hell out of there. Next stop, Memphis!
Monday, June 29, 2009
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Colorado and Kansas
Colorado hadn't been in the original plan. It wasn't even in the first draft of the revised plan. After I left the desert I had planned to stay in Santa Fe for three nights to recharge my batteries, recuperate, etc. Well at some point on the way to Roswell it occurred to me that instead of cooling my heels in Santa Fe I could continue north to Denver, Colorado and still get to Oklahoma City in time to take advantage of the hotel reservation I had already made for Saturday night.
I was excited just to see Denver but there was an added bonus: my friend Tony from high school moved there recently and I was going to get to see him! I was so excited :)
On the drive through Colorado (I don't want to be all predictable but...it was beautiful!) I started thinking about what I might want to see in Denver. Tony wasn't going to be available until later that evening and he was going to let me crash at his place, so until then I was free to do anything I liked. I posted on Facebook to ask for suggestions and I was referred to a fantastic bookstore downtown called Tattered Cover. I headed over there, found a parking spot, fed the meter, then went inside. Now I'm a little spoiled since I live right down the street from Powell's, a decidedly excellent book store, but Tattered Cover was just everything a book store should be and it was the perfect place to spend a couple of hours while I waited for Tony. For some reason whenever I go to a bookstore I always think I'm going to have trouble finding something I'm interested in but then I always end up with the opposite, a giant stack of books I absolutely have to have right now! Five minutes after going upstairs to the fiction section, I already had my hands full of books. One of the things TC does better than Powell's (sorry Powell's..you know I love you) is that it has cozy reading areas tucked in every section so you can sit down and get an idea of the books you are looking at before you buy them. I read a little bit of each of the books in my stack and decided which ones I didn't want and which ones to buy at Powell's when I get home. Believe it or not I actually managed to leave TC empty-handed.
Another excellent suggestion that was made was for Falling Rock Taphouse. I looked it up on my phone and it was only about four blocks away so I put some more quarters in the meter and walked over there in the light rain that had just started. Once there I grabbed a seat at the bar and ordered a pint of porter, I forget what brand. After that I asked the bartender to hook me up with something interesting I might not be able to get somewhere else so she had me try a few different things. It was a lot of fun, actually, tasting all of these different beers. Of course it didn't take long for me to feel a tiny bit buzzed. Almost two hours had passed so I had to run back and feed the meter again, then I texted Tony and asked him to meet me at Falling Rock when he was done with work.
At some point during the evening two intelligent-looking gentlemen sat next to me and we started talking about all sorts of things...beer, IT, cell phones, etc. You all know how talking to men in bars is not really my strong suit, but this was a lot of fun. Eventually Tony showed up and the other guys took off, so he and I stayed for one more beer (for him...I had switched to water a while ago) and then drove back to his and his wife's apartment to talk some more and finally get some sleep.
Now I don't have a high tolerance for alcohol to begin with, plus supposedly the altitude affects that sort of thing as well, so the next morning I was definitely hurting. I was nauseated and felt like I had been run over by a mack truck. Still worth it though. :) Tony made me some tea, we talked for a while longer while I played with his cats and then it was time for me to hit the road.
The only logical way to get from Denver to Oklahoma City is to drive right into the heart of Kansas so I prepared myself for a long and boring day of driving. There are definitely a lot of similar-looking wheat fields but I have to tell you, Kansas is (you guessed it) beautiful. I stopped that night at Wilson State Park which is arranged around Wilson Lake. Many of the campsites go right up to the lake's edge, in fact my tent ended up maybe 15 feet from the water with an incredible view. It also had a covered patio area near the water which seemed like a nice place to set up my laptop and write a little. Eventually the sun went down and the heat, which had been a little uncomfortable when I was setting up the tent, began to dissipate. A nice, cool breeze flowed off the water as the sky darkened and the stars began to show themselves. It was a fantastic evening, another perfect moment.
The next morning I awoke to the honking of geese! When I crawled out of my tent there were several families of geese (including fuzzy little goslings) just milling about the campsites, looking for some tasty bugs for breakfast. I stayed as still as I could against the car and they came close enough for me to get a few good pictures. Soon afterwards, I was off again, this time headed for Oklahoma City!
I was excited just to see Denver but there was an added bonus: my friend Tony from high school moved there recently and I was going to get to see him! I was so excited :)
On the drive through Colorado (I don't want to be all predictable but...it was beautiful!) I started thinking about what I might want to see in Denver. Tony wasn't going to be available until later that evening and he was going to let me crash at his place, so until then I was free to do anything I liked. I posted on Facebook to ask for suggestions and I was referred to a fantastic bookstore downtown called Tattered Cover. I headed over there, found a parking spot, fed the meter, then went inside. Now I'm a little spoiled since I live right down the street from Powell's, a decidedly excellent book store, but Tattered Cover was just everything a book store should be and it was the perfect place to spend a couple of hours while I waited for Tony. For some reason whenever I go to a bookstore I always think I'm going to have trouble finding something I'm interested in but then I always end up with the opposite, a giant stack of books I absolutely have to have right now! Five minutes after going upstairs to the fiction section, I already had my hands full of books. One of the things TC does better than Powell's (sorry Powell's..you know I love you) is that it has cozy reading areas tucked in every section so you can sit down and get an idea of the books you are looking at before you buy them. I read a little bit of each of the books in my stack and decided which ones I didn't want and which ones to buy at Powell's when I get home. Believe it or not I actually managed to leave TC empty-handed.
Another excellent suggestion that was made was for Falling Rock Taphouse. I looked it up on my phone and it was only about four blocks away so I put some more quarters in the meter and walked over there in the light rain that had just started. Once there I grabbed a seat at the bar and ordered a pint of porter, I forget what brand. After that I asked the bartender to hook me up with something interesting I might not be able to get somewhere else so she had me try a few different things. It was a lot of fun, actually, tasting all of these different beers. Of course it didn't take long for me to feel a tiny bit buzzed. Almost two hours had passed so I had to run back and feed the meter again, then I texted Tony and asked him to meet me at Falling Rock when he was done with work.
At some point during the evening two intelligent-looking gentlemen sat next to me and we started talking about all sorts of things...beer, IT, cell phones, etc. You all know how talking to men in bars is not really my strong suit, but this was a lot of fun. Eventually Tony showed up and the other guys took off, so he and I stayed for one more beer (for him...I had switched to water a while ago) and then drove back to his and his wife's apartment to talk some more and finally get some sleep.
Now I don't have a high tolerance for alcohol to begin with, plus supposedly the altitude affects that sort of thing as well, so the next morning I was definitely hurting. I was nauseated and felt like I had been run over by a mack truck. Still worth it though. :) Tony made me some tea, we talked for a while longer while I played with his cats and then it was time for me to hit the road.
The only logical way to get from Denver to Oklahoma City is to drive right into the heart of Kansas so I prepared myself for a long and boring day of driving. There are definitely a lot of similar-looking wheat fields but I have to tell you, Kansas is (you guessed it) beautiful. I stopped that night at Wilson State Park which is arranged around Wilson Lake. Many of the campsites go right up to the lake's edge, in fact my tent ended up maybe 15 feet from the water with an incredible view. It also had a covered patio area near the water which seemed like a nice place to set up my laptop and write a little. Eventually the sun went down and the heat, which had been a little uncomfortable when I was setting up the tent, began to dissipate. A nice, cool breeze flowed off the water as the sky darkened and the stars began to show themselves. It was a fantastic evening, another perfect moment.
The next morning I awoke to the honking of geese! When I crawled out of my tent there were several families of geese (including fuzzy little goslings) just milling about the campsites, looking for some tasty bugs for breakfast. I stayed as still as I could against the car and they came close enough for me to get a few good pictures. Soon afterwards, I was off again, this time headed for Oklahoma City!
New Mexico
So as I said, driving through New Mexico was fantastic. Honestly, I saw a difference only a few miles after I crossed the border from Arizona. Not that Arizona isn't beautiful in its own way, but New Mexico has something special...I don't know. You'll have to drive through it one day and see for yourself (or check out my pictures).
The whole Albuquerque/Roswell thing turned out to be kind of a bust. First of all, I don't know what I was thinking when I was planning it out, but it would have made much more sense to drive directly to Roswell from Tucson and then to Albuquerque or Santa Fe the next day. As it worked out, I drove all the way to Albuquerque, didn't have time or energy to do anything so I just went to the hotel. Then the next day I drove back down south to hit Roswell.
Roswell itself was not what I was expecting and I kind of wished I had skipped it altogether. First of all, they are so not into the alien thing as much as they should be, I think. Maybe one city block was dedicated to alien stuff and the rest was just an uberconservative rural town. I was so bummed by the half-heartedness of the alien museum I didn't even bother to pay money to see the inside. Instead, I went and had a pretty excellent Mexican dinner at the Capitol Cafe (recommended by a friend of a friend) and then just went back to my hotel room.
The one saving grace of the trip to Roswell was that on the way I missed my turn and ended up backtracking on a deserted country road with some of the most beautiful scenery I have seen in my life. It was one of those perfect moments where you know you're in exactly the right place at the right time. Fantastic.
So the next stop after Roswell was the Santa Fe National Forest. Driving into the forest was another incredible experience. Beautiful mountains, incredibly tall trees, a rushing stream...just fabulous. When I got to the campground it was a little crowded but I managed to find a decent site. I had chosen Holy Ghost campground because it was rumored to be haunted. I didn't so much expect to see any ghosts but I thought it might be fun to be a little scared.
Turns out the scariest thing about the campground wasn't the ghosts...it was the latrines. I had dealt with vault toilets (basically an elevated hole in the ground with a seat on it) in Joshua Tree and, while they weren't all that pleasant, I could certainly deal with them. It helped that the bathrooms there were big and bright and the climate was such that there wasn't a ton of flying insect activity. Not so in the SF Natl Forest. Oh dear. Okay, first there's the smell. Naturally, a big hole in the ground filled with excrement isn't going to act like a giant air freshener, but this was just overpoweringly gross. Then, there are the bugs. I warily moved the door aside to check everything out and I swear, it was like Amityville all of a sudden with the swarms of flies. Effing creepy. I did my best to shake them off of the door and kicked the side of the latrine to encourage any stragglers to depart. Then I closed the door behind me (sigh, it didn't close all the way, I had to hold it) and it was way too dark in there so I ran back to the car and grabbed my lantern. On my second approach, the majority of the bugs seemed to be gone, but I was still loath to expose my privatest business over a hole that might contain any number of horrifying crawly things. I was genuinely afraid. I had to stand there for a minute and talk myself down before I finally sucked it up and got the job done. Ugh...still makes me shudder to think about it.
The rest of the evening passed without incident. I got my tent set up, made some dinner, went for a lovely walk by Holy Ghost Creek while listening to the end of Sense and Sensibility (I love audiobooks), then hit the hay. The next day I got up early (of course) and packed everything up. No bugs on my tent this time, which was nice, but every little surface was covered with condensation which made it difficult to do all the rolling up and packing away without getting everything wet. But, you know, I managed. After a quick stop at a convenience store to change my clothes and brush my teeth, I headed north to Denver.
The whole Albuquerque/Roswell thing turned out to be kind of a bust. First of all, I don't know what I was thinking when I was planning it out, but it would have made much more sense to drive directly to Roswell from Tucson and then to Albuquerque or Santa Fe the next day. As it worked out, I drove all the way to Albuquerque, didn't have time or energy to do anything so I just went to the hotel. Then the next day I drove back down south to hit Roswell.
Roswell itself was not what I was expecting and I kind of wished I had skipped it altogether. First of all, they are so not into the alien thing as much as they should be, I think. Maybe one city block was dedicated to alien stuff and the rest was just an uberconservative rural town. I was so bummed by the half-heartedness of the alien museum I didn't even bother to pay money to see the inside. Instead, I went and had a pretty excellent Mexican dinner at the Capitol Cafe (recommended by a friend of a friend) and then just went back to my hotel room.
The one saving grace of the trip to Roswell was that on the way I missed my turn and ended up backtracking on a deserted country road with some of the most beautiful scenery I have seen in my life. It was one of those perfect moments where you know you're in exactly the right place at the right time. Fantastic.
So the next stop after Roswell was the Santa Fe National Forest. Driving into the forest was another incredible experience. Beautiful mountains, incredibly tall trees, a rushing stream...just fabulous. When I got to the campground it was a little crowded but I managed to find a decent site. I had chosen Holy Ghost campground because it was rumored to be haunted. I didn't so much expect to see any ghosts but I thought it might be fun to be a little scared.
Turns out the scariest thing about the campground wasn't the ghosts...it was the latrines. I had dealt with vault toilets (basically an elevated hole in the ground with a seat on it) in Joshua Tree and, while they weren't all that pleasant, I could certainly deal with them. It helped that the bathrooms there were big and bright and the climate was such that there wasn't a ton of flying insect activity. Not so in the SF Natl Forest. Oh dear. Okay, first there's the smell. Naturally, a big hole in the ground filled with excrement isn't going to act like a giant air freshener, but this was just overpoweringly gross. Then, there are the bugs. I warily moved the door aside to check everything out and I swear, it was like Amityville all of a sudden with the swarms of flies. Effing creepy. I did my best to shake them off of the door and kicked the side of the latrine to encourage any stragglers to depart. Then I closed the door behind me (sigh, it didn't close all the way, I had to hold it) and it was way too dark in there so I ran back to the car and grabbed my lantern. On my second approach, the majority of the bugs seemed to be gone, but I was still loath to expose my privatest business over a hole that might contain any number of horrifying crawly things. I was genuinely afraid. I had to stand there for a minute and talk myself down before I finally sucked it up and got the job done. Ugh...still makes me shudder to think about it.
The rest of the evening passed without incident. I got my tent set up, made some dinner, went for a lovely walk by Holy Ghost Creek while listening to the end of Sense and Sensibility (I love audiobooks), then hit the hay. The next day I got up early (of course) and packed everything up. No bugs on my tent this time, which was nice, but every little surface was covered with condensation which made it difficult to do all the rolling up and packing away without getting everything wet. But, you know, I managed. After a quick stop at a convenience store to change my clothes and brush my teeth, I headed north to Denver.
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