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.

Arrington Ranch in Canadian, Texas

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

The Arrington Ranch Bed and Breakfast in Canadian, Texas as seen in the Tom Hanks film Castaway

Last night I shared a photo of the now-famous sign in front of this ranch, made so by Tom Hanks in the film Cast Away. We are at Arrington Ranch in Canadian, Texas. This house was built by Civil War soldier G.W. Arrington in 1919; his descendants, Mike and Debbie Arrington, rent out the five beautifully furnished bedrooms for only $70 each.

Update: While the previous bit of writing is from the original post, most of what you’ll find here will be from a 2023 update, including every one of the photos below. In the old text, the day was compressed into 333 words, and I’ll be using those as the basis for what else I share about the images I’ve added, but just know that some of the impressions will be coming out of a head that experienced these things 17 years ago. Since the time of our visit out to the Panhandle of Texas to celebrate America’s birthday, the Arrington’s have ceased renting the property. My daughter and I drove by back in 2021 and saw that the place was starting to show its age. I can only guess that the upkeep has exceeded its potential. This state of decay, like that which affects so much across our country, is a sad and tragic comment about what we hold dear.

Last night, we let ourselves in the house, and it turned out that we’d be the only guests for the long weekend; how could this be? This morning, we met Debbie Arrington, who invited us over to their main home. After saying hello to the horses, we headed over to meet Mike Arrington.

Now introduced to both of the Arringtons, we took a walk over a small corner of their thousands of acres of ranch; along the way, we learned about how drought and the misuse of Texas aquifers were destroying ranch life for many in Texas. Mike shared the high costs of having hay shipped in from as far as Canada, yep to Canadian, Texas, and how it made cattle ranching increasingly more difficult. While he may be fortunate to have the Washita River right here on his land, that’s not enough to care for the 5,400 acres of land that require rain to support cattle. We were invited for a swim but being the idiots we have been known to be, opted not to: a mistake.

The Arringtons are part of a group working to preserve their little corner of Texas called the Texas Prairie Rivers Region. After seeing their population dwindle in the 1980s, some ranch owners got together to save Canadian from decrepitude and have since made great inroads in revitalizing this once-thriving corner of Texas.

We’re going south based on the recommendation of Mike and Debbie that the breakfast near and far would be found out there.

Along the way, we’ll have to take inventory of the old houses in ruin peaking through their windows, where we could find them, and seeing what was what.

Some of the places were well aerated with no glass left at all.

At this time in our lives, we were still movie nerds, so being here at the intersection of FM-48 and FM-1268, where the last scene of Cast Away was shot pressed all of our buttons. But this was not where breakfast was to be found.

From there, we had five more miles further south before reaching the small town of Mobeetie, which is also the oldest town in the panhandle. We are at the Cowboy Oasis, a place that created a long-lasting memory, not due to the food but because of the patrons. We walked into no fanfare from the many cowboys in this place but after others walked in, the assembled diners would greet the next person or people as they passed through the front door. Feeling a bit neglected until we left, as we stood up to depart, I introduced everyone to Caroline and me, and with that, the dozen or so people at the Cowboy Oasis wished us a good day, letting us leave with big smiles on our faces for becoming part of the in-crowd.

If there was a map of homes not trashed by people but in a state of natural decay, I’d take that road trip.

We are at the Mobeetie Jail Museum, which is also home to some of the artifacts that remain from Fort Elliot, including the old flag pole that stands near this old cell.

On our quest to see a bit more of the panhandle, we are on a loop drive that is taking us to Pampa and points beyond. This is the Laketon Wheat Growers grain elevator that is obviously no longer in use.

Somewhere out in this vast openness, we drove over to Fritch, Texas, with the hopes of visiting the Alibates Flint Quarries but were foiled by the need for a reservation. Maybe another time.

And so we drove and drove because that’s what you do in Texas.

View from Elsie Road in Panhandle, Texas, on our way back to Canadian.

Ferg’s Cafe in Miami, Texas, is as open as this sign is well cared for (it’s not).

If you only know Texas from a drive across Interstate 10, you too might find Texas to be one of the ugliest states in America, but there really is a lot more to it.

I’m fairly sure we are on FM-2266 heading into a local park.

We are here to see trees and dragonflies. We were not let down.

This is part of the Gene Howe Wildlife Management Area, helping to make our first full day in the Canadian, Texas area a win.

Prairie Land

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Timewarp out of the summer of 2006 into January 2023 because that’s when I’m sitting down to transform this ancient blog post that, up until this time, was but one photo, the one at the very bottom, paired with a minimal amount of text. As I’ve stated the same in many other posts, back in the day, posts saturated with a lot of photos were taxing people’s devices and our internet bandwidth, so I kept things brief. But here I am a thousand years later (as measured in internet time), and I started dragging old photos out of their digital tomb and presenting some of my favorite zombies.

As was our routine in our impetuous youth, we sped across the landscape and stayed on the move. This day would have been no different as we obviously left Taos early in the day. Well, we left the town proper…

…as we were on our way to Taos Pueblo, a few miles up the road.

For over 1,000 years, this village has been occupied by the indigenous people who call it home. I have mixed feelings right now as I consider that I’m looking in on their lives as a curiosity, but then again, I do the exact same thing on the streets of California or if I visit a forest. I have an inherent curiosity that wants to know what’s what. If I could find an angle to be invited through this door to join in for a meal and an hour or two of listening to a story about those who lived here prior to the current inhabitants, I would jump at that opportunity.

This is what we all come to see: the Hlauuma (North House) of Taos Pueblo. We were too early for vendors to be present, the shops to be open, nor were we able to sign up for one of the tours that hadn’t begun yet.

I believe we are near Angel Fire, New Mexico, and I have the vague memory that as we passed through, we’d made a mental note, apparently quickly forgotten, that we should return to the area as it was extraordinarily beautiful.

Reaching Cimarron, New Mexico, we had a choice: go straight ahead and reach an interstate or turn left and go north on a secondary route, we opted for the main highway as we had a ways to go today. As for the photo, this is looking back to whence we came.

Get real, we did NOT take the interstate! We are plying U.S. Route 64, a two-laner taking us by wonderful places such as the Colfax Tavern, where they call their lone outpost next to the road “Cold Beer,” though, in reality, it’s at the farthest western point of Maxwell, New Mexico.

A band of rain and a whisp of lightening hover over the flattening landscape of the Great Plains in northeast New Mexico

During our road trips across America, Caroline and I try to respect and appreciate the culture and beautiful land as best we can. Out on these nearly barren plains, one can almost imagine that just 150 years ago, there were 60 million bison eating their way across a sea of grass. It is a tragic shame that the imagination of so many overstimulated TV addicts cannot see the wonder that exists even in places like the plains where seemingly nothing much at all is happening, but an entire complex ecosystem once thrived.

We take a small, lonely road called NM-72 from Raton, New Mexico, to Folsom, the site of the famous archeological dig of the early 20th century, where it was determined that humans had lived in North America for nearly 10,000 years. Six years after this find, and 170 miles southeast near Clovis, New Mexico, a Clovis point was unearthed, dating Native American occupation of North America back 13,500 years. A long history of Native Americans exists in the United States but is largely ignored. Current thinking places humans in North America for about 20,000 years now, but our (white) ancestors discovered America.

Maybe if the indigenous peoples of North America had left empty ketchup bottles in their wake, we could have taken them seriously, or as Eddy Izzard once said (I’m paraphrasing), without a flag, the land was up for grabs.

The weather on Capulin Volcano forced us to stay in our car; we drove up, we drove down, and we were gone.

If this is the biggest grain silo we’ve ever seen, we must be in Texas, and from the name atop those silos, you can deduce we are passing through Sunray.

After Sunray, we arrive at sunflowers. Funny how sunflowers are so big and happy looking, and yet, as they fill the view with their incredible splash of color, they offer nothing in the way of scent.

South of Morse, Texas, at the intersection of Farm to Market Road 281 and Texas Route 136. Now, we are really in the middle of nowhere.

About an hour later, I’m pulling up and introducing Caroline to the Cattle Exchange Restaurant in Canadian, Texas, where my mother and I first ate the best ribeye steak I’d ever had. Wouldn’t you know it though, Caroline is a vegetarian, and while she agreed that the bread pudding, bread from a nearby bakery, the salsa, and baked potato were all superb, she does not have an opinion about their amazing steaks, though she does see that it brings her husband incredible joy.

And here we are at our lodging, also in Canadian, Texas. This is the 5,400-acre home of the Arrington Ranch but also this gate and barn figured in the Tom Hanks film Castaway, as did the wings the young woman in the film was making. I’ll share more about this place tomorrow, but first, I must recover from a food coma.

Going to Dallas

JWise Photo of the Day

A plane taking off from the Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport in Arizona

Caroline left today for a brief business trip to Dallas, Texas. This was the third time she has flown in the past five years, all times without me – I’ve not been on a plane since the year 2000. Not that I don’t want to, it’s just that the opportunity hasn’t arisen and I have enjoyed the drives. That will change in April as we make our way to Hawaii.

The site where JFK was assassinated in Dallas, Texas

The site where John F. Kennedy was assassinated. The man in the suit is Mike Waltman, Caroline’s boss at I-Sites in Scottsdale, Arizona.

Mother and Son Going to Buffalo, NY – Day 16

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Texas

No repeat of the stench-filled feedlots found in the other corner of Texas that Mom and I drove through. Just a grain silo and a bunch of not much else. Time to hit the gas and haul ass to Arizona. I need a hug.

New Mexico

It was only about 30 miles to New Mexico. Feels like we’re almost home.

New Mexico

Remember those back roads we tried to stay on for the previous two weeks? Well, that preoccupation has been tossed out the window as we hunt for the cactus that will tell us we’re home.

New Mexico

This photo of monsoon clouds was taken at 80 mph (130 kph) through the windshield of the van traveling west on Interstate 40 in New Mexico. Yes, it was from the driver’s seat; I was driving – duh!

Arizona

Woohoo, it’s Arizona, and again, with no time to stop for a photo, it must be taken as we drive by. The next stop is home, as this trip is now more or less over.

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.