Oklahoma to Phoenix

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Oklahoma Airport

Important Note: This is another series of blog posts where, when the events described within were transpiring, we did not take notes, and so here I am, thousands of years later, attempting to give context to images that, while able to trigger fragments of memories, act as an incomplete picture of the story. Sure enough, we should have been tending to these things without fail, but little did we understand the value of revisiting milestones later in life. And so, without that proverbial further ado, here we go into a murky past.

While there were no notes regarding this trip to Oklahoma and Kansas, the photos tell a lot about what was going on. Take, for example, this image at the airport while it’s still dark out; sunrise on October 1, 2007, was at 7:25, and from the photo below, you can see that we were well in the air before sun rays struck the surface of the land below. Checking my calendar, I found that this day fell on a Monday, so this all adds up to the fact that we were racing home as early as possible for one reason.

Somewhere over Oklahoma

Caroline was on her way to work, and we would have been on the first non-stop flight of the day, taking us back to Arizona.

Somewhere over Arizona

Looks like Arizona to me.

Approaching Sky Harbor Airport in Phoenix, Arizona

Getting in around 8:30 in the morning allowed Caroline to show up at work right on time at 9:00. There is a downside to this arrangement, and that is we likely awoke around 2:30 in the morning Phoenix time or 4:30 in Oklahoma City, so we could return the rental car and get through security. The upside was that we weren’t rushed getting out of Harveyville, Kansas, yesterday, and we could meander on side roads instead of bolting back the 300 miles via a sterile freeway.

Yarn School in Harveyville, Kansas – Day 4

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Harveyville, Kansas - Yarn School

Important Note: This is another series of blog posts where, when the events described within were transpiring, we did not take notes, and so here I am, thousands of years later, attempting to give context to images that, while able to trigger fragments of memories, act as an incomplete picture of the story. Sure enough, we should have been tending to these things without fail, but little did we understand the value of revisiting milestones later in life. And so, without that proverbial further ado, here we go into a murky past.

The graduating class of 2007 “Fall Edition” of Yarn School, as organized by the Harveyville Project, is seen here in all of its “Bad Ass Women of Crafting” glory. I ended up spending more time among these curious women than I thought I would, which elicited the question from a few of them, “What did you think of this experience?” My answer went something like, “I’m floored at the openness and sharing of not only the instructors but of those with complementary skills regarding the fiber arts world. From my world of tech, I’m mostly used to chest-beating secretive bragging of a bunch of alpha males that would never share anything that might help someone else without a financial component.”

Harveyville, Kansas - Yarn School

This is why we wear clothes as women have historically created, evolved, and worked the tools used for making fabric; well, that’s what anthropologists have come to believe, and it sounds good to me.

Harveyville, Kansas - Yarn School

What would a three-and-a-half-day workshop be without swag? T-shirts and tote bags were part of the haul.

Harveyville, Kansas - Yarn School

These are the t-shirts I mentioned and to complete the return to high school sense of things, lockers had been assigned to each participant to store things they didn’t need at every juncture.

Harveyville, Kansas - Yarn School

This was our room in Social Sciences, which included a chalkboard behind me that we never used as we were too busy to pay much attention.

Harveyville, Kansas - Yarn School

Finally, this was Blake, our person in the kitchen who prepared our many meals, often vegetarian or vegan. As for the toad, I can’t tell you anything at all about it, but I’ll take a stab at suggesting it was an Eastern narrow-mouthed version of the species.

Caroline Wise and John entering Oklahoma

As you can guess from this photo, we are leaving Kansas after an incredibly satisfying journey into something new.

Sunset in Oklahoma

While not represented photographically, we turned our 4-hour drive into a full half-day affair by stopping here, there, and everywhere.

Strange signs roadside in Oklahoma

In our meandering trek back to Oklahoma City for tomorrow morning’s flight, we were stopped by undecipherable crazy registered on this massive steel structure, airing grievances we couldn’t understand. This “used” to be on Highway 64 before entering Perry, meaning that in the intervening 14 years since we passed through, the signs were torn down due to road improvements.

Sunset in Oklahoma

A last stop at the Steak & Catfish Barn because it was that good, followed by this spectacular glow of the last moments of sunset. Our motel was another non-descript, super cheap, nearly embarrassing excuse for lodging, but what the heck, it helps us afford these kinds of amazing adventures.

Yarn School in Harveyville, Kansas – Day 1

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Steak & Catfish Barn outside of Oklahoma City, Oklahoma

Important Note: This is another series of blog posts where, when the events described within were transpiring, we did not take notes, and so here I am, thousands of years later, attempting to give context to images that, while able to trigger fragments of memories, act as an incomplete picture of the story. Sure enough, we should have been tending to these things without fail, but little did we understand the value of revisiting milestones later in life. And so, without that proverbial further ado, here we go into a murky past.

Many things can be lost to the passage of time, but two heads and a few visual reminders can tease out enough of the story that a decent retelling of an adventure can emerge. For example, it’s 12:34 as we snap this photo north of Oklahoma City; I know this specifically as the time stamp in the details of this digital image says so. Had I forgotten that we flew into Oklahoma City on this particular trip, the photos preceding this one let me know the facts. The internet helped me remember that this old Steak & Catfish Barn used to be off Interstate 35, and with all of these details, I remember the trigger of seeing a “joint” that, in my imagination, promised a perfect meal of catfish. It must have delivered just that because we stopped a second time on our way back to Phoenix a few days later.

Sunflowers in Oklahoma

Hey, monarch butterfly, we’ve possibly met your ancestors or will meet your descendants on some trip or other to the California Central Coast. I have to wonder if the Oklahoma branch of butterflies is a distinct group separate from the Kansas branch. Maybe I should have just repaired the above, but aren’t mistakes part of learning? You see, the monarchs found out here east of the Rocky Mountains overwinter down south in Mexico, while those west of the Rockies are the ones we find out on the Pacific coast between San Luis Obispo and Pacific Grove, California.

Arkansas City, Kansas

It took some searching and zooming to find clues about where we took this photo. It turns out that this is Arkansas City, Kansas, on South Summit Street.

Roadside in Kansas

In keeping with our dictum of remaining off the main highways, we are maximizing our potential to see more because out in the middle of nowhere, we are provided the best opportunity to find what we are looking for.

Cassoday, Kansas

While Minnesota holds the distinction of featuring the World’s Largest Prairie Chicken, Cassoday, Kansas, is the undisputed Prairie Chicken Capital of the World, and we’ve been here.

Open prairie in Kansas

Grasslands on the open plains: the only thing missing is a giant herd of bison. By the way, we are on Kansas Route 177, traveling north, which will bring us right to the following.

Caroline Wise and John Wise at Tallgrass Prairie National Preserve in Strong City, Kansas

A man from Buffalo, New York, hardly qualifies as the missing beast on the Great Plains, but with a wooly reddish-brown beard, this will have to suffice. Sites that have been able to protect the natural state of the environment as it existed for millennia out here in the middle of America, such as the Tallgrass Prairie National Preserve, are rare; visit them while you can.

Harveyville, Kansas - Yarn School

This is the Harveyville High School, which was built in 1939 and closed in 1970; just behind it to the left is the old grade school that opened in 1954 and is now closed, too. Both buildings were adopted by QueenieVonSugarpants (Nikol Lohr) and her partner Ron Miller.

Harveyville, Kansas - Yarn School

Yarn School is just one incarnation of what these old buildings are used for, and it’s the driving reason for us showing up out here at the beginning of fall.

Caroline Wise at Yarn School in Harveyville, Kansas

Caroline had learned to knit and crochet as a teenager and, back then, had only briefly considered learning how to hand spin and make yarn, but one day, while I was scanning a now-forgotten website that aggregated interesting links, I saw something about “Yarn School” and followed the link. I learned of Nikol Lohr and her ambitious project in Harveyville, Kansas, where she was bringing people together from near and far to learn the old craft of turning fibers into yarn. I called Caroline at work and asked if she had any interest in learning how to spin without filling her in with any details; after a moment of waffling, she said she could be interested.

Seeing that Harveyville is just 200 miles from the dead center of the continental United States, I thought, “What better place to learn this ancient craft than in the middle of the Great Plains?” So, I called Nikol to see if there was a spot open for my wife. Well, I learned that not only was there a spot, but I could stay too by sharing a room with Caroline in the old High School facility. This all sounded very exciting, and before we knew it, I had her reservation paid for, tickets to Oklahoma City were purchased, and a rental car was reserved for our great adventure to The Harveyville Project.

In this photo, Caroline is, for the first time, holding something called roving and combed top: fibers that have been processed and are ready for the hand spindle or spinning wheel where they’ll become yarn. I think this first purchase of roving was just being caught up with the excitement of it all, as we didn’t have a spinning wheel at home; yet.

Independence Day in Canadian, Texas

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Of course, we were up with the rising sun on America’s annual day of celebrating our independence. We didn’t travel to northern Texas to sleep in as an expression of freedom; we are here for all of the merriment we can partake in.

Note: while we were up early, this blog post is extremely late with its arrival, most of it anyway. It was the end of January 2023 when I finally got around to adding the 19 images that didn’t accompany the single photo of the man on a small tractor pulling a bunch of kids as part of the parade in Canadian, Texas. As I’ve explained in other posts, bandwidth was at a premium back on the days these posts were first penned, and so they were as big as I dared make them, unfortunately. From the original post, there were about 250 words to describe the entire day; they needed to be reworked and integrated into this new text, which will hopefully maintain the original message and sentiment.

This is the Hemphill County Courthouse and the hub of where today’s events are getting underway. Wafting in from around the area are sausages on a stick and kettle corn, trying to drag us in for snacking, but I have my senses tuned for something special in a few hours.

Along the way, we learned that there’d be a turtle race after the parade and that we still had time to size up the participants; our money was on number 30.

Vendors selling t-shirts, jewelry, and various arts and crafts set up in the shade, letting parents mill about, talk, and browse while their kids lined up to be dunked in a barrel of water by other kids throwing softballs at a target. There are hundreds of people lining Main Street with their lawn chairs and blankets spread out for a comfortable view of the upcoming parade.

And then the street comes to life, and the most unlikely of sights Caroline or I could have imagined come sauntering by, who ever heard of longhorn cattle being ridden during a parade? Apparently, it’s a thing in Texas.

We’d be amiss to deny that there’s something endearing about being in a small American city for such a wholesome way of celebrating such a day. There’s zero commercialism here, no police cordon keeping the kids from crossing into the street, just families, friends, and members of the community coming together for a day of partying.

Red, white, and blue were everywhere.

Right after the parade, we sprinted over to the courthouse parking lot only to witness our turtle lose but an exciting race it was. Around the corner, a local grocer was selling 25-cent hot dogs, and later in the day, there was water polo, a watermelon feast, and the rodeo got going.

The faces of a random couple in the stands smiling at the Great American Experience. This was Caroline’s first-ever rodeo.

The opening ceremony began with the national anthem and a ride around the arena with the colors of the United States and Texas in tow.

Men attempted to ride the bulls and broncos, but mostly, they were busy picking themselves up out of the dirt after colliding with it.

While the tots tried their hand at riding sheep, the slightly older kids tried staying atop bucking miniature donkeys.

This is why I had to stay away from the snacks on offer at the courthouse; I knew I had another date at the Cattle Exchange for the last perfect ribeye I’d be having on this trip.

Canadian, Texas

With uncertainty about the fireworks show this evening due to the threat of rain, all we could do was hang out till evening or head back to the ranch; so instead, we took a short tour of the town and then headed up the road.

Approaching Higgins, Texas

The horizon is looking rather foreboding.

Caroline Wise on the Oklahoma / Texas border

Drove up to Higgins, Texas, where we crossed into Oklahoma.

Rainy Oklahoma

We didn’t get far before a flooding road turned us around.

Caroline Wise and John Wise at the Texas State Line

No matter, now we get to visit Texas twice on this 4th of July.

Approaching Canadian, Texas

Things started drying up, and with the glimmer of sunshine out there, we started thinking we just might see some fireworks tonight.

Fireworks in Canadian, Texas

Sure enough, following some late-day duck races, fireworks lit up the early evening sky, and after 12 hours of fun and observance of Independence Day, we were on our way back to the ranch for our last night in Canadian, Texas.

Mother and Son Going to Buffalo, NY – Day 15

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Missouri

In the light of day, the room could be called old, rustic, or plain old crappy. Mom thinks Psycho is more fitting. We have concluded Weaubleau is pronounced WeBlow, and we wanna blow this town. Before we even emerged from our cabin, granny, her sister, and maybe Mr. Bates were setting up a yard sale. Mom takes a look at the stuff spread out on tables and can see her own past scattered amongst the junk. From Las Vegas ashtrays she’s owned to a heater she used in Angola, New York, while the sliced-up shower curtain only added more worry.

Missouri

Leaving town, we drove past one of the guys from Deliverance. A shave, shower, and some dental work were in order. Missouri is definitely a state with rich contrasts. What the amenities failed to deliver on, the beauty of the landscape makes up for.

Missouri

Breakfast was at 54 Café in Nevada, not the state: I meant Nevada, Missouri.

Kansas

Nothing else much happened this morning as we were driving out of Missouri. Then, in the early afternoon, just before we were about to turn right, a procession of wide-load vehicles was coming our way. The lead vehicle pulls into the middle of the street with flashing lights to alert drivers in both directions to slow down. I can see a truck approaching, hauling a giant pipe about to make a right on our road. So I pull closer to the right. After the first truck passes, the follow vehicle leaves its position to race ahead of the first truck. We see another exact configuration approaching.

While Mom and I sit at the stop sign, the second lead vehicle stops in the middle of the road just as the previous guy did. A tow truck driver behind the lead vehicle is not paying attention, and before he knows it, he is approaching way too fast. With a Lincoln Town Car on his hitch, he locks up his brakes, and as he begins to slide right to avoid the stopped lead vehicle, he is heading directly at us.

There is no doubt in my mind that we are about to be T-boned by this freight train and that if I’m hit, I am certainly going to die in the wreckage. As he is sliding at the speed of sound, I hit the gas after contemplating putting it in reverse but decided I may not be able to do it quick enough, and if the transmission hesitates even a second I’m still going to be hit. As the car accelerates quickly, I have to maneuver over gravel under the right tires and try not to lose traction as, again, I know we are close to being hit.

I am nearly around the corner and thinking about driving down the embankment to save us from being jackhammered as I see his bumper in my peripheral vision with the rearview mirror reflecting his red tow truck and the white smoke billowing out of his locked and skidding tires. We miss sliding into the ditch with the tires holding traction and we continue accelerating down the road as fast as we can. The tow truck, at one point, could not have been more than a few inches away from us.

Kansas

A quarter-mile down the road, gasping for air and nearly in tears, we pull into a driveway to catch our breath and check our underwear. Just as we exit the van, the old guy in the tow truck passes us with a brief, casual wave and a cigarette dangling from his lips as though this was routine in the course of his daily routine. Mom suppresses the need to flip the man a bird and we get back in the van and try to calmly drive away.

I require an hour or two before feeling like things have calmed down and that my adrenaline won’t trigger some kind of heart condition. I’m done with Kansas and am now ready to leave the state.

Kansas

I should point out that this tow truck, but especially the Lincoln Town Car, was especially traumatic to mom as just two months ago, on May 5th, while leaving the freeway in Phoenix, mom rolled her own white Lincoln Town Car that required her to be airlifted to the hospital. Maybe that close call with the possibility of a deadly outcome was what motivated her to want to see the city of her birth one more time. Then here we are out in the middle of Nowhere, Kansas, and the haunting image of the killer Town Car was trying to collect the soul that had been spared fairly recently.

Slow down, take deep breaths, and things will be fine.

Kansas

I do love Kansas. When Caroline and I first passed through this state five years ago we were enchanted with the places we saw. The Great Plains have a different kind of beauty than the heavily wooded eastern U.S. or the mountainous western states, but the charm is undeniable.

Kansas

I feel that there’s much to explore out here, but with over 600 miles we’re trying to cover today, we don’t have the time to collect place names or linger to admire the finer details.

Kansas

Why were the lights flashing here? There was no train. I waited as I really wanted to see one lumber by out here on the Great Plains, but there was nothing.

Kansas

No, Mom, we are not stopping for ice cream, pie, walleye, pizza, a bakery, a fruit stand, or a winery. I’m stopping to look at the horses because one of them is telepathically signaling me to rescue it from the other horses that are forcing it to herd with them when it just wants to be free.

Kansas

Passing over the Cimarron River, we are close to leaving Kansas.

Oklahoma

Can someone, anyone, tell me why it is hotter out here on the plains than it is in the deserts of Arizona? At a gas station, the sign says it’s 108 degrees, but the attendant said someone reported an asphalt temperature of 136 degrees down on the interstate. The humidity is starting to fade the further west we go, but this is still an overwhelming scorcher of a day.

Oklahoma

The sights of roadside America leave indelible impressions in my mind, but with photos, I can share the things I’ve seen in my past with my future self and, of course, with Caroline, who wasn’t able to travel with us. Lucky her.

Oklahoma

Sunflowers are the plants of smiles. Who can look at a field of these yellow and black plants and fail to find a moment of happiness? Or maybe I’m just projecting this as knowing we are about to enter Texas; I know I’m only a couple of states away from getting back to Arizona and into the arms of my wife.

Texas

Leaving Oklahoma using small back roads, we do not find anything that hints at an upcoming spot for dinner. The first couple of towns in Texas are not delivering any promise either. Then, about to enter Canadian, Texas, we see a billboard directing our attention to the Cattlemen’s Exchange Steak and BBQ Restaurant. This place is drawing us in.

Texas

The Cattle Exchange Restaurant in Canadian, Texas, has by far the BEST steak I have ever had in my life! EVER! They have the best bread pudding, too. Their salsa is homemade and GREAT! Their bread is unbelievable! But that RIBEYE STEAK is the thing you (and with that, I mean: I) will come back to Canadian, Texas, for.

Forget Morton’s, Fleming’s, Ruth’s Chris, and any other contender. The Cattle Exchange in the little town of Canadian in the Texas Panhandle has set the bar for the best mesquite broiled steak in the Universe. And best bread pudding. The ranch dressing is no slouch, either. – Yeah, I was impressed. If you don’t someday make your way to this little corner of the panhandle of Texas for this wonderful treat, you are truly missing out on life.

Texas

Leaving Canadian we drive by some well-kept, beautiful old homes and a meticulously renovated old theater. Outside of town, the landscape is lusciously green. Mom exalts high praise on the state she was afraid was too boring and ugly for her tastes, a newfound appreciation has been found.

We breeze by Amarillo and stop in Vega at the Bonanza Motel, where, for $45, we have a room on Saturday night that isn’t the backdrop for some horror plot. Tomorrow, we will be home.

Mother and Son Going to Buffalo, NY – Day 2

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Texas Sunrise

It was 1:00 a.m. last night when I signed off. Somehow, my snoring didn’t make an impact; I will try harder tonight. The alarm rings before sunrise at 5:45, and just 45 minutes later, we are underway. It feels crazy that we are supposed to drive from Texas all the way to Minnesota today, but that’s our goal. I’m tired as I pull out of the parking lot; Mom is sleeping 5 minutes later.

Texas

We’re on Highway 54 through Texhoma, Oklahoma, while Mom sleeps quietly on my right. This is a great time of day as she’s not talking about food.

Oklahoma

Mom sleeps for another hour and a half, only waking briefly as we cross the Oklahoma Stateline.

Kansas

Mom opens an eye as we enter Kansas. This time, she stays awake as she’s hungry and wants breakfast. What kind of weird reality have I volunteered myself for? Driving through Liberal, Kansas, still on the 54, which is called Pancake Blvd here. As we drive through town, we see signs for Dorothy’s House and the Land of Oz, and just across the street is a Pancake House. Mom says, perfect. The Swedish pancakes are a kind of Kansanian interpretation but are still yummy. We leave, agreeing we could both go for a couple more of those lace-like pancakes.

Rolling hills, corn, and grasses punctuated by grain elevators are the major sights along our road. We have been driving northeast until reaching Pratt where we curve more northerly in order to catch the 135. Small towns, grain elevators, and rising humidity are drawing us toward Nebraska. Still in Kansas and approaching Salina, Caroline over in Arizona recommends we stop for lunch today at a BBQ in town. We nearly walked out after Mom saw the buffet appearance of the place, but she finally agreed to try it as Caroline’s recommendations haven’t failed me yet. We don’t regret our meal, another winner.

Nebraska

In Nebraska, 90 minutes later, the grain silos are replaced with corn silos. Wind pushes the humidity around, but it’s still just as hot and maybe more humid. There appear to be more trees in Nebraska than in Kansas, but it’s difficult to be certain. Mom is astonished that the land is not flatter than it is, pleasantly surprised even. Not surprising is the mosquito population. I will only afford these pests this quick bitter grumble.

Nebraska

Needing to drive more than 800 miles today, we have no time to stop for the sights; we pass barns, small towns, and dead raccoons by the dozen.

South Dakota

We are making good time on this bolt across half of America. As we arrive at the South Dakota Stateline, we are already more than 1,300 miles away from Phoenix, which we left just yesterday.

South Dakota

We are nearing sunset as we turn east to dip into a corner of Iowa. Not only had Mom not visited Kansas, Nebraska, South Dakota, or Minnesota but she had never stepped foot in Iowa. She now has bragging rights of having added four states she’d never visited today. Passing yet more farms and cornfields, I witnessed for the first time in my life one of the most enchanting sights I have yet seen: fireflies. Fireflies appear as fleeting glimmers of light rising off of the earth as though elves were popping in and out of the physical realm from the spiritual world. They wisp along the edge of the corn, are more abundant near tall grass, and when seen with a backdrop of trees, they look like miniature fireworks.

Iowa Sunset

A quick left and now northbound, the car brings us to Luverne, Minnesota, and the fifth new state for my mother on this trip. This is our stop for the evening. A nice little hotel called the Cozy Rest costs us $46 for the evening, and conveniently, there is a Smoky Bears Pizza place next door that serves up a decent meal. Thanks for feeding us.

It’s almost 11:15 p.m., and I’m about to quit taking these notes. The clock is set for 6:15. Tomorrow; we have a much shorter drive scheduled, which should allow for some serious experiences besides suffering the exhaustion I fought most of the day as we drove through seven states, likely a personal record.