Opportunities like this come by so seldom that they ought
not to be missed. We felt compelled to go to Magnum for the Rattlesnake
Festival.
And indeed there were rattlesnakes
And things made out of rattlesnakes
And fleamarkets AND… I’ll be damned!
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| Corn dogs!!!! |
Zigzagging west through Oklahoma we tried to find the most scenic
roads. Alas, there were few hills and valleys, and the roads were rather
straight, but the soil was blood red and the greenery is just so, well, green, that
it was a treat for the eyes.
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| I don’t know what it is about this Red-Green colour combination that makes me think about duct tape. |
Oklahoma
was a lovely state and I regret that only 24 hours was spent on its lovely
soil, but as we follow that western sun in the vague direction of home what
should we encounter yet again but…
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| TEXAS!! |
Texas has tendrils like an
amoeba, and one of its pseudopods—refered to as The Panhandle—sticks up between
Oklahoma and New Mexico. So we’re back.
Some interesting little towns appeared along the way. There
must have been a real deal on red bricks at the turn of the century because the
roads in several of these towns are paved with gazillions of them.
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| The Red Square, Texas style. Just in case there is a civil uprising and they need a place to gather for a barbeque. |
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| Memphis? A couple of surprises here. I always thought it was in Tennessee. And really, I did expect something bigger. |
Then there is the town of Turkey. Rather than putting people off with a
silly name like Turkey, they flock to it. This weekend, as luck would have it, Turkey was
celebrating the legacy of one of its sons, Bob Wills. Some of you may be
scratching your heads about that, but here that is a famous name. Why, you will see at the
bottom of the “Welcome to Turkey,
Texas” sign
a footnote that adds, “Home of Bob Wills”. I have a three piece rattlesnake leather
Sunday goin’ to meetin’ suit for the first one who can tell me who Bob Wills
is. No Googling allowed!
My driving destination for the afternoon was up the east
side of Caprock Canyon. But like a doofus, I missed the
turnoff at Silverton and blew by it by 20 miles before I realized. Now, I will
tell you that one of the finer things about traveling alone is that you can
make a stupid mistake like that, whack yourself upside the head for being so
thick, and then never hear about it again.
Just shy of Amarillo
Texas is a state park called Palo
Duro that I set as my nightspot. Imagine my surprise when I found out that the
place was over run with Secret Service agents and that camping was off limits
for everyone this weekend. Seems that former president George Dubya Bush is
having a little vacation over there and that’s that.
I am camped at the private campground just across the gulley
and can see the security vehicles scurrying around as me and my new friend and
camping neighbour, Scott are drinking beer and thinking about getting all
liquored up and going over to say hi later. Scott pointed out that we would
likely be shot and I suppose he has a point.
