Fun-Meter Crisis

Not sure the exact details of how the contagion was incubated, but it's final outcome was made known at the end of October.  Debra paraphrased Eric Burdon and clearly informed me; "I've gotta get out of this place".   Making matters worse, there was no crisp fall weather-still too hot AND ALL the camping spots in Texas were full.  So we took risk with some foreign travel and pulled the teardrop up to Oklahoma.  Wow.  Was it worth it.

We bugged out right after work to Chickasaw National Part, just South of Sulphur Oklahoma.  When we got there it was late evening and we were largely setting up in the dark, so no photos.  However we had a great evening and watch an old Marx Brother's comedy on Debra's iPad for the evening entertainment.  The next morning I got up before the sunrise in search for some good light.

After a breakfast, we broke camp and went exploring.  First to Sulphur and then to Ada in search for the perfect pie and to Fittstown to see where Peggy grew up.

Someone I know loves this color of blue.

Looks like the Fun-Meter is improving!

Winding Up the Trip

We just missed getting the best pie in the world.  But the restaurant in Ada closed at 2:00pm... (ShOOt!).   On the way back we were very intrigued by the town of Roff, especially the old bank building.

Then we slipped off exploring the town.  Debra loves looking at old houses.

We rounded a corning and saw the strangest Halloween decorations; 'what does a pig have to do with halloween?'.  Then it moved!

 It was massive.  There was no chain and no fence.  To our good fortune, the beast's girth tamped-down is it's hate-fueled desire to charge the Jeep.  I spotted the owner in the garage at the house.  She signaled that she had no interest in any more photography.  Since we were aliens in a strange land, we made haste to the highway.

Once back at camp I bundled Debra up with the folding chairs and we sat out on the beach and watch the sun set.

We stayed and were able to get some good star-shots.  I know it is a little blurry, but I forgot my tripod. 

In the night I woke up with a booming sinus headache.  I stepped outside and got this great shot of Orion, just above our teardrop.

The two photos above are from the Roff bank and from the lilly-pad pond at Sulphur.

All in all, it seems to have worked.  Fun-meter is clearly reset!

All the Parks are Full
Debra has the camping bug.  But what to do.  All the parks are full.  Seems if you have any RV/camping spots available they are sold out until Thanksgiving.
We slipped off yesterday and explored the LBJ Grasslands and found quite a few interesting spots and several great locations near the TADRA trail-head.  One of the spots we looked at was near Hale's on the back side of Blackcreek Lake.  We saw Dax there.  In addition to all the great land, there were the odd and curious cow wondering where the feed was and some really great light across Cottonwood Cemetery.

Just North of Baby Head

Even through the scent of top fuel nitro-methane in the air, the drag boats were really interesting enough to stick around for (yawn).  We moved onto Fredericksburg.  This town was the least satisfying of any on this trip.  Is was nice, and clean and beautiful to look at.  But it was crowded and everything seemed very brand-conscious with a heaping helping of faux-finishing.  It was just not our kind of place.  Glad we visited, but not our favorite township.
  

The next stop was Ink Lake.  But we were unwilling to take a direct route.  So we nav-ed out a course that took us North only on county roads.  Two of those roads were easements running through operating ranches.  The roads were beyond rough.  At first I was worried that we were driving on celetche clay because of the redness.  Not the case.  The roads were mostly crushed granite.  Very solid, but so very prone to having very deep washboard grooves.  In the worst places we could only move at 1-2 MPH.   We loved it.  Around every turn and hill was something amazing that we would have never seen in any other way.

The combination of an could'nt care less look, the tuft of red and the tongue made this is a photo that Debra liked a lot.  She described it as my first cow-portrait and has requested a good print to frame and hang in the sewing room. 

The entire trail across these ranches totaled ~30 miles.  On much of those trails were these intrepid stacked-stone borders. 

This was an massive outcropping of granite from the ground.  I loved the colors and texture.

As we rounded a corner and went down into a wash, we were greeted with this alien vista.

Maybe 100 yards away, this is how drastically the scenery changed.

When 100% of your income will not even cover the taxes but it has your name, two thumbs up is all I could muster.

There were genuine farm houses from a 100 years ago and amazing landscapes all prepared from His goodness.

After scouting out the camping at Inks Lake we made our way North on FM-500 to the Regency Bridge.  This place is North of a ghost town called Baby Head.  The only thing that remains of the town is the cemetery.  As much as I hate to admit it, this was a good example that marketing may be of some value after all.  What wife really wants their home to have a zip-code in Baby Head?

Not sure if you know this but back in the day I have climbed communication towers.  I even rode the wire on a drilling rig up to get an injured worker down.  But I am often terrified of suspension bridges.  Yes they are nice and yes there are interesting, but I am never comfortable on one. I am always inspecting the wires, rivets and anchors.  For Debra there is not even a hint of concern; 'if it wasn't safe, it wouldn't be here...'. The Dorris Day view of risk (que sera sera) is just not me.  Things fall and break all the time and it is always a surprise.

As we drove up to it there were three cars parked on the side of the road, clearly not wanting to make the trip over the bridge.  I knew that I had to make at least one crossing.  Notice the bridge is crowned.  You can see nothing until you are in the middle of the bridge.  If there were timbers that missing or damaged, you would not know until it was too late.

With deep breaths and sighs like a whining pup I made it across.  The wind was up and the swaying was very pronounced, but not nearly as noticeable as the creaking wood.  Now we had to go back across to get home...  That trip was worse, but Debra cheered the whole way.

I stepped out to take some quick pics and then to get out of there.  My motivation was based on knowing how much Debra loves the self-y/Us-y pictures.  My hope was to get the pics done and out of there before she realized my plans. 

 No such hope.   If you could only see the death-grip I have on that wire behind me.