imagery and adventure
Just posted on my web site a large group of recent adventure, history, and travel articles I’ve had published (some as co-author with Bill) in Oklahoma Today, OutdoorX4, ADVMoto, RoadRunner, TrailGroove, Expedition Portal and others. Check them out at this link:
https://susandragoo.com/publications/
See Expedition Portal for my story on exploring New Mexico’s Mills Canyon:
http://expeditionportal.com/and-they-said-it-couldnt-be-done/
It’s pristine, easy to access, and historically important. It’s also remote and seems to be relatively unknown, and the fact that few people know about it is probably a good thing. The grounds of Sacred Heart Abbey, near Konawa, Oklahoma are a place of peace and calm and mystery. It’s a quiet place to walk, to explore, to meditate or pray, to ponder the work that went on here so many years ago, or to ponder nothing at all.
I visited there recently for the third time, on a photo expedition with my son Mark, something that is becoming a Mother’s Day tradition for us. The photos here are from that visit. We noted with amusement that the sign at the front gate says, “No Trespassing After Dark.” We assume it’s okay to trespass before dark.
There were two people leaving as we entered. Other than that, no one was around and we were free to wander over the several-acre site and take photos with our vintage Nikkormat film cameras loaded with Kodak Tri-X film.
From the Encyclopedia of Oklahoma History and Culture:
A Roman Catholic institution founded May 13, 1877, by Father Isidore Robot, O.S.B., Sacred Heart Mission (later Sacred Heart Abbey) and its successor institution, St. Gregory’s Abbey and University, constitute Oklahoma’s oldest educational center in continuous operation. Robot, a Benedictine monk, had arrived in the Indian Territory in October 1875 with a lay brother companion. The two had left their home monastery in France when the Laic Laws threatened to close many Catholic institutions.
Other members of the French community soon joined Robot, and the Potawatomi Nation offered a section of land four miles north of the Canadian River in the southeast corner of what is now Pottawatomie County. By 1880 Robot had built a monastery, schools for Indian boys and girls, a technical institute, and a seminary. In 1892 he constructed a large church. Four years later Sacred Heart was raised to abbatial rank, and the monks elected their first abbot.
Fire destroyed the large complex of frame buildings during the night of January 14–15, 1901. The facilities were quickly rebuilt, but by that time the monks had realized that the nearest railroad would not be close enough to make a secondary school viable on the site. They therefore established St. Gregory’s College at Shawnee, thirty-five miles north. The new school opened in September 1915.
As other monastic operations thereafter gravitated to Shawnee, Sacred Heart reverted to priory status, with the seat of the abbey transferred to St. Gregory’s in 1929. Sacred Heart Priory closed in 1955 and most of its buildings were razed.
– James D. White, “Sacred Heart Abbey,” Encyclopedia of Oklahoma History and Culture, http://www.okhistory.org (accessed June 01, 2016).
More on Father Robot: Father Isidore Robot
For information on the location of Sacred Heart Abbey, see this link: Sacred Heart Abbey
Flowers on the prairie where the June bugs zoom
Plenty o’ air and plenty o’ room
(From “Oklahoma,” by Rodgers and Hammerstein)
Western Oklahoma. For some, the words conjure up in the mind’s eye a straight ribbon of four-lane through flat, featureless land. But they are the ones who have never been close to it. For them, and maybe for you, it’s like “fly-over” country for coastal inhabitants . . . they are passing through on the way to somewhere else.
I know, because that was me. A native of northeastern Oklahoma, I found the western landscape a stark and barren contrast to the hardwood forests and verdant hills of my youth. It never occurred to me that a different kind of beauty waited there. I too had rushed through on the interstate, always headed to other places, just waiting for the miles to go by. But then there was FreeWheel.
FreeWheel is a yearly bicycle ride across Oklahoma. The first year I rode, it started in Duncan, Oklahoma and ended in Anthony, Kansas, taking us through the western high plains. During that week of riding and camping, I got “up close and personal” with the land on two Susan-powered wheels, averaging 17 miles per hour for four or five hours every day. Aside from walking, there is no better way to get to know a place.
And what I learned is, first of all, it is not flat. The elevation change from Duncan to Cheyenne is 1,200 feet and on a bicycle you feel it. And neither is it featureless . . . maybe you’ve heard of Red Rock Canyon, the Gloss Mountains, the Wichita Mountain Wildlife Refuge. These are things you don’t see from the interstate. You might glimpse them from a state highway, but to really know them you have to take the back roads. There you smell the wheat, feel the breeze, cross the creeks on one-lane bridges and welcome the surprise of daffodils or wild roses blooming around old homesteads.
And Oklahoma has plenty of back roads . . . 84,984* miles of county roads, to be exact. According to Susan Allison, Public Information Officer for the Oklahoma Department of Transportation, about 59,000* miles of those are unpaved, which means they may be “unimproved,” graded, or gravel. To put this in perspective, the earth’s circumference at the equator is 25,000 miles. Think about it . . .you can (figuratively) go around the world twice on unpaved roads and never leave Oklahoma!
So it was natural that when Bill and I decided to take a motorcycle trip to visit Chris and Claire Johnson at their Wichita Mountain ranch, we would think of making it a “back roads” journey. Admittedly, this decision was partially driven by our choice of motorcycles for the weekend.
We were on the horns of a dilemma. Bill had recently “jacked up” the BMW F650GS (actually returning it to its original height) so he could use it for training. Too tall!
I could ride the Triumph Bonneville, but the British bike didn’t feel like my cup of tea for this ride. A bit too stiff.
And there’s the Yamaha XT 225. A great all-around bike. But isn’t it too small to ride that far?
Then I thought of Lois Pryce, whose book, Lois on the Loose, I had recently read. She rode an XT 225 from Alaska to Tierra del Fuego. It dawned on me that riding my XT225 from Norman to Lawton would be sissy stuff by comparison. So, like Goldilocks, I decided the XT would be “just right.”
“Are you sure?” asked Bill.
“Yep,” I said. “It will be fine, if we take the back roads.”
“You don’t want to ride the BMW?”
“No, you ride the BMW. I’ll have fun riding the XT.” And I meant it.
In preparation, we located our Oklahoma atlas and gazetteer, The Roads of Oklahoma, and extracted the pages for Grady County, Caddo County, and Comanche County. The maps in this book show all 84,984 miles of those back roads, indicating whether they are paved or unpaved. This is a great resource for planning but, as it turned out, not my preference for way-finding. We ended up using my GPS to occasionally get our bearings and otherwise simply zigzagged south and west from Norman until we got close to where we hoped to be.
We chose the hottest week of the year to go. Not from masochism or bravado, that’s just the way the timing worked out. This first weekend in August promised temperatures over 105, but the heat wasn’t yet oppressive as we departed, so we carried our “cool vests” rather than donning them.
Heading south, we made short work of the one mile of I-35 across the South Canadian River, the only interstate driving we did the entire weekend. The XT was glad to be done with it. Highway 9 took us west to Blanchard and from there we plunged into the back roads. Riding dual sport motorcycles gives us peace of mind about tackling any of Oklahoma’s county roads. Nice to have the freedom to keep going when the asphalt turns to deep gravel.
Thirty-five miles of zigging and zagging delivered us to Alex, where we stopped for a drink from our water bottles. There the main street runs through a shuttered-up downtown. In front of the community center stands a marker paying tribute to the man for whom the town was named. W.V. Alexander was a Civil War veteran who, through his marriage to a Chickasaw woman, controlled a large tract of Indian Territory’s Washita Valley, including this townsite. We stayed long enough to snap a photo of the marker and wave at the driver of a semi-truck, the only other vehicle passing through. Then we set out for the next set of zigs. Admittedly, there weren’t many curves. But lots of zags.
Serendipity is the pleasant result of keeping your options open, and it led us next to Marlow. We didn’t intend to ride so far south, but this course held our interest, and on we went. As we rolled into town we were ready for a break, so we stopped to cool off and have a drink of water in the shade of Redbud Park, then shared a delightful lunch at Giuseppe’s Ristorante, (see Bill’s article in the September 2008 issue of Ride Oklahoma).
Frequent stops and diligent hydration kept us going in the triple-digit temperatures. From Marlow, we made our way around the north side of Fort Sill. Grass grows through the asphalt of barely-paved one-lane roads on this northwesterly track. We kept our speeds under 50 most of the time, making both me and the Yamaha happy. Soon we fiybd ourselves in Elgin, from whence we veered west to Meers, then through the Wichita Mountain Wildlife Refuge to the home of our friends.
After a good visit, a tasty meal from Claire’s abundant garden, and a good night’s rest, we started the journey home. It was already mid-afternoon and we didn’t hesitate to wear our cool vests, knowing we would need them. Bill gave them a good soaking and we departed. In spite of our mutual agreement not to seek out dirt roads on this hot, dusty afternoon, we succeeded in doing exactly the opposite, spending most of the trip on dirt and gravel, having . . . and creating . . . a blast. The phrase, “Eat my dust” comes to mind as clouds of the white stuff erupted from our wheels.
Traveling north and east to Apache, we were greeted by quiet streets in contrast to the lively atmosphere in 2004 when we rolled in under our own power during FreeWheel . Then the mood was festive, with more than 1,000 cyclists nearly doubling the town’s population. Apache was one of our favorite stops on that traveling bicycle camp for grown-ups. Townspeople went all out to welcome our caravan with food, music, camping and showers set up at the local fairgrounds. But this time, it was an ordinary Sunday afternoon and a very hot one at that. Most folks were wisely staying indoors under the A/C. We soaked our vests, got gas and Gatorade at a convenience store, and parked on a bench to rehydrate and watch the locals.
We had started back fairly late in the day and it was getting on toward evening as we arrived in Verden on the heels of an intriguing ride up a freshly oiled hard-pack dirt road to a red butte, where we were greeted with a locked gate. No problem . . . turnarounds are easy on my little bike. In town, one more stop for a cold drink and another soaking for the vests. “How far is it to Chickasha?” I asked the store clerk. My GPS battery gave out so we’re guessing.
“Oh, 10 or 15 miles,” she responded congenially. We were getting close.
We continued northeast and crossed over I-44, zigging our way back to Blanchard. We knew the way home now, without map or GPS, and soon we pulled into our driveway covered with dust and grit, thoroughly satisfied. The weekend was rich with exploration, discovery and companionship. Western Oklahoma is better known and better loved, and the XT was indeed big enough for our state’s plentiful back roads. And there’s a bonus . . . with about 250 miles under our belts from the weekend, we are 1% of the way towards circumnavigating the globe . . . right in our own back yard.
*Department of Transportation statistics as of 2008
This story was originally written in 2008.
Concertina wire draws my gaze away from the lenticular clouds shifting from flying saucers into mother ships in the western Oklahoma sky. We’ve been driving northwest from Woodward on Highway 270 looking for Fort Supply, and we should be there by now. The fence topped with razor wire clearly indicates we are approaching a prison, but where is the fort? Finally we distinguish the sign for the Fort Supply Historic Site, almost lost amid the prison barrier and institutional buildings. We are greeted by armed guards when we turn in, and muddle through an explanation about being with the Oklahoma Historical Society’s annual conference and wanting to visit the historical site. They don’t seem to be expecting anyone, although a large bus full of conference-goers will soon follow. The four of us — me, my husband Bill, and my parents Jane and Jack Morgan — have come separately by private car.
Winding through a maze of buildings of uncertain purpose we find the parking lot for the historic site and there we do indeed seem to be expected. Two friendlier-looking men greet us as we get out of the car. Site manager Shayne House and Mead Ferguson, president of Friends of Historic Fort Supply’s board of directors, are a contrasting pair. Mead is slight, white-haired and gregarious and Shayne a dark-haired, bearded young man originally from Hawaii, but both are full of knowledge and enthusiasm about the place we are here to see. A young woman is sweeping out the entrance to the guard house as we approach. They may not get many visitors.
Originally named Camp Supply, the military installation 13 miles northwest of Woodward, Oklahoma was established in late 1868 as the supply base for Major General Philip H. Sheridan’s winter campaign against the American Indian tribes of the southern Great Plains. From here Lieutenant Colonel George Armstrong Custer and the U.S. Army Seventh Cavalry marched south and destroyed the Cheyenne village of Chief Black Kettle at the Battle of the Washita on November 27, 1868. For the next 25 years the site served as a base for soldiers patrolling the region in an effort to contain the tribes and keep out trespassers. Fort Supply was closed in 1894 and its grounds have since been used for the state’s first mental hospital and a minimum security correctional facility, whose ominous fence it was that caught our attention.
They’re expecting the bus to arrive at any time, and House and Ferguson seem to feel a bit constrained, needing to be here to greet it but also wanting to show us around. Not getting too far afield, our small group wanders through the 1892 brick guard house, the only brick building erected here by the army. It is clean, pleasant, and feels spacious in spite of the barred windows on the room reserved for military prisoners and the two dark closets for solitary confinement. A few artifacts are displayed in an adjacent room and we notice a bathroom with surprisingly modern toilets and a large tub.
I want to get outside and shoot photos of other buildings, so I start to wander off. Ferguson goes along with us to the 1882-era teamster’s cabin, the oldest building on the site. It is a rare example of a common frontier construction method, with walls built of vertical cedar logs.
Then it’s off to the stockade, with House in tow. The stockade is a replica but we are told it provides a good idea of what the original might have looked like, and its blacksmith shop appeals to Bill and Jack, where they get an educated mini-lecture from House on the artifacts there, including an anvil and forge.
Next Ferguson leads us over to the 1879 commanding officer’s quarters, a large wood frame house with a long veranda facing the former parade grounds, now the prison yard where inmates stroll on a path that circles the yard. The house is surprisingly well preserved for a wood structure of that era and is in the process of being repainted. Ferguson says Sherwin-Williams had a hard time coming up with the proper green for the paint needed to restore the house to its original color. Not surprising. Bill notices the float.glass in the windows, a sign that the windows are old, if not original.
We head for the car, ready to get back and prepare for an evening event, and just then the bus arrives.The large group had toured a wind farm before coming here and will probably have to settle for a shorter version of the private tour we just enjoyed. Good timing on our part.
Fort Supply was officially closed in September 1894 and was turned over to the Department of the Interior on February 26, 1895. In May 1908 the first patients arrived at the Western Oklahoma Hospital, which used the old post’s buildings and grounds as the state of Oklahoma’s first mental health facility. The Oklahoma Historical Society currently administers five structures and a replica stockade as the Fort Supply Historic Site. The grounds of the old post are also occupied by Western State Psychiatric Center and William S. Key Correctional Center. The Fort Supply Historic District was listed in the National Register of Historic Places in 1971 (NR 71000675).
For more, see okhistory.org/fortsupply
The dogwoods are in bloom; the redbuds are still flowering; and wildflowers are beginning to dot the landscape in violets and yellows as things green up in the Ozark Mountains of northwest Arkansas.
Bill and I spent the last couple of days with my parents, Jane and Jack Morgan, at their home on Beaver Lake near Garfield, then traveling to and around the Jasper area, near the Buffalo National River. Our primary goal for this trip was to hike to the Glory Hole Falls, and we decided to add a couple of other hikes while we were out.
Our first stop was Alum Cove Natural Bridge, a 130-foot long, 20-foot wide natural stone arch bridge (as the name says). There is a short trail from a picnic area to the top of the bridge and it’s an easy scramble down below for a better vantage point. It was getting late in the day when we visited so we didn’t explore more of the area, but the trail has other interesting features which sound worthwhile.
To reach this spot from Jasper, go south about 14.5 miles to Highway 16. Turn right on Highway 16, go about 1.1 miles to Country Road 28. Turn right and go approximately three miles to the turn-off, on your right.
For more information, go to: http://www.exploretheozarksonline.com/activities/parksnature/nationalforests/ozark/bigpiney/alumcove.html
We spent the night at the Cliff House Inn, which is south of Jasper on Highway 7 and has a spectacular view of “Arkansas’ Grand Canyon” of the Buffalo National River. http://www.cliffhouseinnar.com After checking in at the Cliff House, we drove in to Jasper for dinner and found some decent grub at the Blue Mountain Cafe and Bakery. We also picked up some peanut butter cookies and blueberry muffins for later.
Next morning it was French toast and bacon at the Cliff House Restaurant, pretty good food and they had the presence of mind to bring out the maple syrup warm. That sounds basic but it’s amazing how many restaurants miss that important detail.
After breakfast we set out for the Glory Hole. We’ve been talking about doing this short hike (~2 miles round trip) for several years. It’s a remarkable sight, where Dismal Creek has eroded a circular hole in the bluff where the water pours through. The surrounding glade is lovely as well. A fellow hiker had the nerve to stand under the chilly water coming through the Glory Hole and amused us all. None of us offered to join him! The Glory Hole trail is off Highway 16, 2.2 miles west of Edwards Junction (the intersection of highways 21 and 16).
For more information, go to: http://www.buffaloriverchamber.com/attraction_glory_hole.html#ixzz45HvStZ5P
Our last hike of the trip was to Kings River Falls. This is an easy hike (~ 2 miles round trip) over level ground to a fairly significant waterfall. It is notable that it is the waterfall on the cover of Tim Ernst’s “Arkansas Hiking Trails” book (which served as our guide for all of this). We enjoyed this lovely finale to our hiking excursion; the weather was pleasant and we saw yellow violets and mayapples, and Bill got a nap. We also saw evidence of the long-ago existence of a grist mill at the site of the falls — carvings in the stone where mill foundations would have been secured.
To get to Kings River Falls from the community of Boston on Highway 16 (between Fallsville and St. Paul), go north on County Road 3175 (dirt) for 2.1 miles; bear right as the road forks onto County Road 3415. Stay on this road for 2.3 miles until you come to a “T” intersection with County Road 3500. Turn left, and go across the creek and park at the natural area sign.
For more information, go to:
http://www.naturalheritage.com/natural-areas/kings-river-falls-natural-area
We returned to Beaver Lake satisfied with our short but fulfilling adventure. It’s amazing how much there is to see in Arkansas. The Natural State, indeed.
We had three perfect days in Baja California with Tiberio and Suzanna Esparza a few weeks ago. Four-wheeling in “side by sides” through the mountains and deserts of Baja, including a trip through the Parque Nacional Constitution de 1857, we had a rough and tumble time and ended our first day at the famous Mike’s Sky Rancho, an icon of off-road racing. We had the place to ourselves but enjoyed all the physical reminders — stickers plastered everywhere and t-shirts hanging from the ceiling — of the Baja racers for whom this place has been a haven for many years. The second day, Tiberio’s vehicle broke down in La Independencia and the four of us piled into our (actually also Tiberio’s) Razor and rode back to La Rumorosa, where Tiberio had left his truck and trailer. Since the rear passenger seats had been removed from the Razor to provide cargo space, Suzanna and I sat in the back on our duffel bags, resting against our backpacks. Our plan was to take the trailer back to La Independencia and fetch Tiberio’s broken Arctic Cat and get back to the Esparzas’ home in Holtville, California late that night. But as we drove through the Valle de Guadalupe, Baja’s wine country, the enchanting Encuentro Guadalupe presented itself just after sunset and lured us in. We ended up staying in their luxurious Eco-Pods that night and enjoyed their amazing food and wine for dinner and breakfast. The next day we reluctantly left the wine country and returned to La Independencia to load up the side by side. We returned to the United States through Mexicali and were entertained during our long wait at the border by vendors of food, drink and souvenirs, and even some young men climbing over the border fence. Not that they intended for anyone to see them.
Tiberio and Suzanna were amazing hosts and have a wonderful talent for turning lemons into lemonade. Thank you, Tiberio and Suzanna, you bring joy and light to the world!
Day One Gallery
Day One Gallery (continued)
Mike’s Sky Rancho and Beyond
Encuentro Guadalupe Gallery
Over the past few months, Bill and I have been busy working on a big project for Oklahoma Today magazine on camping in Oklahoma. It has motivated us to get out and explore some of our old favorite spots and discover some places that will become new favorites. The details of that adventure will have to wait on publication in the May/June issue. Now we are on to other projects, among them exploring some of Oklahoma’s historic wagon roads.
On a trip to western Oklahoma this week for the camping project, we attempted to trace some of the California Road across Oklahoma. This wagon trail became an important thoroughfare when news of the discovery of gold in California in 1849 greatly increased the number of westward travelers on northern routes (can it be they had traffic jams?) and a southern trail was sought in order to offload some of the volume.
Congress ordered identification of a suitable route south of the Canadian River from Fort Smith to Santa Fe and then on to California. This task was given to Captain Randolph B. Marcy, who left Fort Smith with his command on April 5, 1849 to establish such a road and to escort a large party of California gold seekers on the way west. For most of its length across Oklahoma, the road followed the south bank of the Canadian River. Records indicate that thousands of emigrants used the route and after the Civil War it was a main traveled road west in Indian Territory for many years.
What remains of the road, if anything? We used a map from a 1960 Oklahoma Historical Society publication, “Rock Mary and The California Road,” to guide our attempts to trace its path out west, and stumbled upon two historical markers. Later, after a stop at the Packsaddle Bar for lunch (They really should call it a saloon to describe the way it feels; it’s the only place to eat for miles and worth eating there even if it weren’t) we noticed that the highway map we were using actually indicated the location of a marker north of the town of Leedey and we found that one on our return trip. There, we also saw a new marker with the 2015 insignia of Art Peters, whom I learned upon our return home is an expert on the topic and is willing to share what he has learned and show interested folks some of the remnants of the old road. Peters is the curator of the Hinton Historical Museum and we are going out to Hinton to meet with him in February.
I probably won’t wait for that to pay a visit to Red Rock Canyon State Park near Hinton, however. There, I also just learned, is a nature trail that follows the path of the California Road and wagon ruts still remain. Another outing is soon to occur.
Sources:
Robert H. Dott, “Lieutenant Simpson’s California Road Across Oklahoma,” The Chronicles of Oklahoma 38 (Summer 1960). http://digital.library.okstate.edu/Chronicles/v038/v038p154.pdf
Oklahoma Encyclopedia Entry on Rock Mary: http://www.okhistory.org/publications/enc/entry.php?entry=RO012
See my story and photos, “Big Bikes, Bad Places,” in the January/February 2016 issue of ADVMoto! (And here ADVMoto Jan 2015 – Big Bikes Bad Places – Susan Dragoo Get the magazine on newsstands or subscribe at adventuremotorcycle.com.
A renaissance is underway in my hometown of Okmulgee, Oklahoma with new investment in the downtown area by individuals and public institutions (especially OSU Institute of Technology). I visited a few weeks ago during the ChiliFest and had the opportunity to tour some of the downtown buildings where renovations are either planned or underway. These buildings made up the familiar cityscape of my childhood and most had fallen into disrepair. Now, many are being restored for residential and business use. It’s an exciting time in Okmulgee as a core group of believers lead a huge shift in the community’s perception of itself. The word is spreading . . . Okmulgee’s rising!
Photos from building tour:
susan dragoo