Today was a long day on the road. By choice we went an extra bit today so we could have a short day tomorrow. More time in Santa Fe when we get there. Because today was so long we didn’t do much stopping. Gas, food, rest stops, and just two extra little stops. One at the World’s Largest Fork in Springfield, MO and the other to photograph the Coleman Theater in Miami, OK where Don Hale used to go as a young gent.
Impressions from the day:
Great coffee this morning from Mudhouse Coffee in Springfield, MO. I regret not buying a t-shirt. There was great art on the walls… many black and white photographs of people in white who had mud on them. Loved it. Also a great dinner tonight from Tyler’s Barbeque in Amarillo, TX. The barbecue was Texas sized. Sadly I think we threw away nearly as much as we ate. Our room still smells of barbecue. I think it was the best barbecue I’ve ever had. All in all a very successful food and beverage day.
Today was a scorcher … the thermostat in the rig topped out at 106. It was so hot that when we stopped for our second cup of coffee in Oklahoma City the little girlie started hyperventilating and had to be carried back to the car. She is a tad bit of a drama queen, but it was also hot hot hot. A dry heat.
We are now fugitives in Oklahoma. A tip for anyone driving on the Oklahoma Turnpike… there are not always attendants at the toll plazas meaning you have to have exact change. We made it all the way to our last booth and then only had a $20. There was a change machine, but it only took $1 and $5. We looked at each other, saw the cars behind us lining up, looked at the red light which told us we couldn’t go unless we threw in the change we didn’t have, and we went on through anyway. As we did the alarms went off at the booth. I’m sure, if they took our photo as this happened, the people reviewing it will be cracking up. Our facial expressions were a combo of amusement, consternation, shock, horror, and guilt. Very funny. I think we were both gesturing…. arms up in the air as if to say… what are we supposed to do in this situation?
In two days we’ve seen two enormous crosses. One in Effingham, Illinois, and the other in some un-named little Texas town we passed. They were pretty much equal in size.
It rained on us today for awhile. It was nice and decently cool while it was raining. Then it got hot (see above).
We waved at Mangum, OK and Pryor, OK as we passed the exits with those names and then chatted about K’s childhood a bit. She spent a lot of time in Oklahoma as a kid and it’s always fun talking about that. Someday we need to do more than just drive through. I’d love to see where she was born and some of the places she’s told me stories about.
We started this morning at 10:00… after getting coffee and photographing the fork, which I know sounds late, and got to Amarillo at 7:30. Nine and a half hours on the road. Tomorrow we have a short day, only four hours of driving. Who knows what adventure we’ll find. I love road trips.
Had to post this little number. Karen and I took a walk, with the pups, around the Belmont neighborhood last weekend. It was gorgeous out and gorgeous weather always calls for a walk. The dogs, of course, love it when we go on a walkabout. They were a bit thirsty, as you would expect, by the time we got back to the car. Riley is in the red collar, and Weston is behind her.
We went to a friend’s house Halloween night to hang and then walk to have some dinner. Maggie, we love this little girl. We especially love that we rescued her and that you and she have become so close. So glad we could introduce you guys. So happy it’s turned out so well. She is adorable.
We went into Sisters one day for a couple of hours while we were over camping. It was a bit warm. Weston, who never drinks out of “other” bowls, drank. It was a first.
This particular shot was taken outside a great gallery in Sisters. We love this place and in fact have purchased stuff there in the past. Sisters is a cool little town, though now it’s a bit touristy. But who cares, it’s fun none the less.
After the Bridge Pedal, but actually before, starting last week, we had a little visitor at our house. It started during the time the roofers were at our place. The meowing. The tiny sounds from somewhere up on the hill behind our house.
We could see it. The tiny kitty. We also could definitely hear it. It tugged at the heart strings big time.
So we did what almost anyone would do… we started feeding it. We hoped we could eventually lure it to us, make friends with it, and then give it to someone. But first things first… the food. I stopped and got tuna and then some really cheap 9 Lives. That stuff is sort of nasty, but it’s stinky and cats love it. The kitty started eating. During the day it would hang around back there, where we could see it much of the time. At night it found little tunnels under the blackberry bushes and brambles where it would be hidden and somewhat safe from the coyotes in the area. Every morning we’d get up and go out to see if it was still there, still alive. We were appalled that someone had basically dumped this beautiful little creature out there in the first place. Who would do such a thing?
Finally, after about a week or so of trying, it came to Karen. Last Sunday actually, after the Bridge Pedal. It was amazing. This cat who’d avoided us was now Karen’s best friend. It wouldn’t leave her alone. It even let me pet it. It was playful, so cute, and very affectionate. The dogs, however, thought it was a moving play toy. Not good. We had to do something.
In steps Maggie… our lovely friend with a big heart who was wanting to get a cat or dog or both. We called Maggie… and Maggie heeded the call. She said yes. So Monday, this week, we bought some toys for the little tyke, packed up a little backpack pet carrier we had, and headed for Maggie’s place with the kitty.
We didn’t know what sex it was, or how old, or what kind. We didn’t know if it was healthy or not, even though it looked like it was fairly healthy. We did know it was skinny from not getting a lot of food before we started feeding it. And we knew it was very loving and playful.
Maggie and Ollie, as it became known (Maggie wanted to name it either Olivia or Oliver depending on the sex), hit it off immediately.
Now, a few days later, Olivia has been to the doctor and gotten a clean bill of health, some flea meds, a good ear cleaning, and an estimate of 8-9 weeks old. We figure she was about 6 weeks old when someone abandoned her. It’s amazing she survived. What a little fighter.
Maggie and Olivia are getting to know each other, working out the sleeping arrangements, and having a very fun time. A happy ending to what could have been a scary story. Olivia is adorable, beautiful, loved, and alive.
These little dudes were both torment and entertainment for the pups during the camping trip. Two encampments, two to three feet from each other. One chipmunk would pop it’s head out, scouting, he’d waive his little claw or paw or whatever you call it and then yell… run! There’d then be this rush of feet and fur scampering from one encampment to the other. Back and forth this went on. Day after day. They’re in the fox hole in this shot, getting ready for their next move.
Riley was, again, a pretty good girl with the crowds yesterday. She got a bit overwhelmed and had to be carried when we wandered around in the dense thick of it, but she didn’t bark very much and she was pretty brave. She’s taking a break in this one, waiting for her mums to finish up their slices of pizza so she can get back at it. Or, perhaps she’s saying… forget it, I’m done… take me to the car. Yeah… that might have been it.
This is Weston at Hondo Dog Park looking through the fence over to where the big dog area is. He might have been fancying himself as a big dog, but he’d never make it over there. He loves big dogs, but when he’s with them he spends most of his time laying down being submissive to them. He’s no fool.
Weston has been to Hondo a few times. Most of the time he’s sort of been like the little kid who is so shy they stand on the sidelines, waiting to be noticed or picked. We always sort of felt bad for him and tried to encourage him to get out there and play. This time, finally, he did that, even if it was just a little bit. He chased, he sniffed, he ran around with some of the other dogs. He didn’t do it tons, but he did it. Our little boy is growing up. Yeah, OK, he did still spend a lot of time jumping up into people’s laps. He’s like that. It’s how he rolls. He prefers the loves he can get from people more than the friendship he can get from fellow dogs. Ah well… lover, not fighter. We’re OK with that. And… so is he.