Month: June 2026

Hot and windy all night. I opened the door this morning to find branches on the ground next to and in our site. Then oatmeal and coffee before the office opened. Just before 9 am a car drives in and then the neon “open” sign lights up. Nancy and Moe walk over to purchase tickets for the Cavern tour. We will leave for the 10 a.m. tour.

We ride in the van with two other women to the entrance. It is already hot, so the first step into the cavern is refreshing.

The tour is over. We walk over to the camper where Moe has his face pressed against the window. His mouth is flapping, and as we get closer, we hear his bark-bark-barking through the glass window. We open the door, and he comes outside to us with the same frantic speed of someone freed from a stuck elevator.

We leash him, and he joins us on a hike. The trail led us to the canyon ridge. Moe races and stretches his leash to the edge. Nancy is reeling him back like she just hooks a thirteen-pound fish.

The trail drops us to a stream at the bottom before we climb the rocks and slippery slope back to the top.

We make it back without Moe going over any ledges. Without either of us slipping or breaking bones. It is again hot enough to just sit in the shade and wait for the day to cool. It is cooling at about the speed of watching grass grow.

This morning I stepped out of the hammock to get a photo of the night sky. Before I could grab the hammock, it puffed like a sail. The forty-mile-per-hour wind blew my pillow up into the air. It sailed away. I spent the next thirty minutes looking in the dark for a black pillow. I found it resting on the ground four campsites away.

We stopped in Alva at the Aspen Laundromat. We had two bags of clothes and sheets to wash. It might be another week before we get the chance again.

An hour later, the clothes are washed and dried. While in town, we stop at Sonic for burgers and fries with milkshakes. We are now back on the road, rolling over hills through grazing land. Cattle are grazing or resting under scattered shade trees.

The land is flat and open, and the horizon surrounds us.

We make it to Alabaster Caverns and set up camp. It is hot, and the wind is relentless.

We ate a late lunch in Alva before continuing to the campground, and it’s now too hot to want food. After sitting in the shade waiting for the sun to settle, we take a short walk around the campground.

We are about seventy-five miles from the Oklahoma Panhandle, and the climate and scenery are beginning to look more arid.

Tomorrow we begin exploring this park.

A rant about idiots and stupidity in the world. Last night as the sun was setting and I was getting ready to head over to the hammock, I watched a big-ass RV try backing up to turn around. It missed the parking spot of a site across from us and backed into a tree. Hold on, it gets better. After scraping the roof, the RV went four sites past us, and the driver was too inept to back into the site, so the driver turned onto the grass area across from the site, bouncing the front wheels into the ditch and proceeded to drive until the rear wheels got stuck in the ditch. The back of the RV was resting on the ground. It is stuck! The driver keeps trying to rock back and forth, scrape-scrape, scrape-scrape. A crowd gathers, and someone with a large one-ton truck drives on the road to get ahead and hook to the RV. A few tries later, the RV is unstuck and soon in the campsite. This morning I was walking from the bath/shower building and saw this same RV drive to the dumpster at the corner of the loop. Trash is thrown into it, and the RV begins to leave. We are now at the finale! The driver pulls away and turns the corner, scraping the dumpster with the entire side of the RV with enough force to move the dumpster!

It is 7 a.m. and it is already unbearably hot. We hunt for shade. Well, Nancy is in the camper with AC blasting, eating cold cereal. I am outside at the picnic table getting ready to cook my eggs and toast breakfast. The wind is blowing, knocking over chairs and dishes off the table. The stove is lit, the bread is toasting, and I’m cooking over a horizontal flame. It has been like this for days.

Breakfast is eaten, coffee is brewing. I’m racing around in a sweat, grabbing dish towels and plates escaping across the campsite grass. Things have been gathered and stored away. I am sipping coffee.

Nancy comes outside and is ready to explore the Salt Plains Bird Sanctuary. With things secured from the blasting wind, we drive off to the Visitor Center to start the hike.

Back at the car, we begin driving the auto road through the sanctuary.

And then we stop at the Salt Flats.

I want ice cream and beer. Nancy wants ice cream but no beer. We also pick up more juice, sodas, and a bag of ice for the cooler.

We get back to the campsite mid-afternoon and put the drinks into the cooler with the ice.

As I write this from inside with the AC blasting, the inferno wind is slamming and rocking the camper. I’m waiting for the sun to give up and go away for the day so I can enjoy a cold beer on the bluff watching the birds fish for their dinner.

Flocks of blue heron and white pelican set upon the river beside me. I watch from the hammock. It is still dark with a spot of dim light off in the distance. The wind is blowing cool air, and I sway relaxed and rested.

That dim light brightens to a warm glow, announcing the arrival of the sun. Now above the horizon, the air climbs from cool to scorching almost instantly.

I step onto the ground and walk to the camper. Nancy and Moe are beginning their day. Nancy sits in the shade, enjoying cold cereal. I, standing in the sun, begin the task of cooking eggs and toast. The wind is so strong that it blows the heat away from the skillet. Cooking is slow, nearly impossible.

Breakfast is over. We sit in the shade. The sun rises, the shade moves. We move back into the shade. This repetition seems endless. I suggest we hike the Tonkawa Trail, a disappointing effort.

2 p.m. 97° feels like 110°.

We have cold pulled pork and macaroni salad for a late dinner. It is too hot to want to eat, but the cold food is good. It is 7:30 p.m. and the hazy, hot sun is beginning to sink in the sky.

When the heat drops a bit more, I’ll shower and settle in for the night.

Pancakes for breakfast! Coffee at a slow pace, then packing up to move to Salt Plains State Park. The gravel roads are still wet clay; the only other road to ride west is a highway. We had decided that I would ride with Nancy to the campground. A three-hour drive in the car, a three-day slog on bicycle.

This part of Oklahoma is transforming into large open space with cultivated fields. No photos from the car window.

We arrive at the State Park and back into site #18, set up, and walk to the beach. We are the only one here. Then Nancy checked the campground map. WE ARE IN THE WRONG LOOP!

We drive over to the other loop and find the other site, the correct site, RR 018. D’oh! We go back and hitch up the camper and haul it to the correct site.

This is a much better site. We are on the riverbank; it is much cooler with the wind off the water, and there are two trees by the river space perfectly for the hammock.

I will sleep here tonight.

The rain held off until after breakfast. I was able to cook outside in the spacious outdoors. I even had time to leisurely sip coffee. Unfortunately, my Elbow Room coffee is gone until we get back home. Then splat, a drop of rain. We packed away the chairs, and I washed my dishes in the drizzle. I prefer being in the rain over doing this in the cramped quarters of the Glamper.

Sitting inside looking at the weather, rain off and on until 3 p.m. We decided to drive to the Tallgrass Prairie Preserve. Driving the roads through the Preserve would be a good rainy day adventure.

Going into the Preserve, we came upon a small gathering of wild pigs. As we made our way over the muddy gravel, we saw a herd of buffalo.

We drove to the visitor center, and being the only ones there, the docent gave us a private tour of the museum. 

https://www.nature.org/en-us/about-us/where-we-work/united-states/oklahoma/stories-in-oklahoma/tallgrass-prairie-preserve-featured-on-pbs-nature

Lookout Lake

The sun is out, and we are back in camp. It’s 5 p.m., we feed Moe, and hike to the CCC camp.

We are now settled in for the night.

We are showered, and the car was put away dusty.

I slept in the hammock last night. A nice, cool, dry wind flowed across me the way waves lap a beach. I was up with the birds. Nancy and Moe came out of the camper as I was about to step into the day.

Nancy chose a bowl of cereal. I went the opposite direction with eggs, toast, and coffee. Fueled for the morning hike, we headed to the trail to the waterfalls. Well worth the hike.

On the way back to the campsite, we found an old stone structure on a side hill next to the picnic area. Nestled among tables and barbecue grills is a stone pavilion similar to this structure on the hill. I decided to wander up to look at this interesting stone ruin. I found the remains of an old restroom.

Back from the hike, I mustered up enough energy, it is hot already, to clean my bike from that mud incident. After I took Moe to the office to buy sodas, I asked about the ruin. The answer was that it was it was one of the original park buildings, built by the CCC in the 1930s. I also learned that a short hike away are what was once a CCC camp with buildings, a blacksmith shop, a carpentry shop, and a slew of other buildings. I’m hoping we get to explore this camp while we are here.

When I arrived at Copan, I was hot and tired. I planned a new route to Osage Hills on paved roads. This will be a thirty-one-mile day instead of eighteen miles on gravel. I went to bed early and slept well until I woke at 5:30 a.m. Breakfast and coffee were first in line. Next, packing up and leaving.

The east side of Oklahoma is very hilly with lush landscapes.

The day is hot and there is no shade and a strong headwind from the south.

I finally arrived at Nancy’s campsite a little past noon. Nancy got back from shopping minutes before.  I settled in, sitting in the shade. We walked to the camp office before they closed to get cold drinks, two bottles of locally brewed root beer for me, one for Nancy.

It is a wonderful night with a cool breeze. I set up the hammock.

I knew today was going to be a long, hard day. Fifty-eight miles from campground to campground. I was encouraged by the gravel in Kansas. I was making good time, almost as fast as on pavement. I slept last night in the hammock, so packing up was quick. I was ready to leave by 7 a.m. I made plans with Kenny last night to meet him for breakfast and coffee.

The breakfast stop is on my route. I could also get road food. There are zero, ZERO, places to get food or water until the campground.

I left with full water bottles, a corn beef sandwich, and snack food. The first half I was still riding on Kansas gravel.

I stopped at the Oklahoma border and ate half the sandwich and a Kenny-supplied pie.

Soon after entering Oklahoma, with thirty miles to go, the gravel began to worsen, and there were now hills. Not steep, still big ring climbs.

With fourteen miles to go, I turned onto another road. Five miles south, then five miles west. On this particular road, a car approached and slowed. The man yelled, “Mud ahead.” I didn’t quite understand the meaning of this warning.  I rode a bit farther and went down a hill. At the bottom, I saw red mud and deep ruts. I knew that I would need to push the bike. I sunk in two inches; the loaded bike sunk in four. This lasted a good half mile. Mud stuck everywhere, making it almost impossible to push the bike. Mud built up between the tires and fenders, cakes of red mud gumming up the cassette. The chain was wrapped in mud.

I finally got through the worst of it. I could barely push the bike. I heard a lawn mower up ahead. I got to a driveway with a closed gate. I saw a man watching me by the lawn mower. I waved and yelled, “I need help”! He yelled back that he doesn’t let anyone past the gate. I pleaded that I needed a garden hose to get the mud removed so I could continue riding. He opened the gate. I pushed the bike to him. I took fifteen minutes to hose all the mud off the bike. He hosed me off also. I was covered up to my shorts. My mind was elsewhere, no photos. Once cleaned, he filled my water bottles. He told me it was even worse up ahead and directed me to Route 10, a paved road. This added extra miles. I’m riding now in scorching heat. I get back to my route in Copan. I Google the campground. I get to the entrance where there is a bait shop across the road. I stop. I stagger in and buy two Dr. Peppers and two Gatorades. I drink the Gatorade and bring the Peppers to my campsite.

I shower and wash my clothes in the shower. I set up the hammock and cook dinner.

I’m ready for sleep.

I got to bed late last night. Cory and I sat and talked until 10 p.m. I got a good, restful sleep and was awake at 5:30 this morning.

I wanted an early start. I was six miles from the route in Pittsburgh. Today is the start of a new section, Map 2.

Cory came outside and offered a bagel with cream cheese, yogurt, and apple juice. I was trying to dry the dew off the soaked tent. I loaded the route and got ready to go.

I rode back to my route and went onto a bike trail out of the city. I was on pavement for a few miles before being led down a gravel road.

I made my way to the Kansas Wildlife Preserve. For the next forty miles, I was in the preserve or riding around its border.

I was low on water as I reached Danny Elliott City Park in Oswego, KS. I stopped to fill my bottles and considered ending my day here under a massive shade tree. It was still early in the day, so I got back on the bike to pedal another ten miles of gravel.

I am now in Chetopa, KS, at the Elmore City Park for the night. To my delight and surprise, the campground has showers and a pavilion to sleep under. There is a 30% chance of rain around midnight.

As I was settling in, an ATV came over, and Kenny, who lives nearby, offers his kindness to campers in the park. I graciously accepted three boxes of mini pies, apple juice, and a hammock to stretch between the poles of the pavilion.

There is a wonderfully dry breeze. I think I’ll sleep well.