Monday, August 13, 2012

Kayaking at Broken Bow


As the end of summer approaches, I find myself growing increasingly nostalgic.  Last night, I returned from a trip to Broken Bow, Oklahoma.  Apparently, several of my loved ones fancy Beavers Bend State Park (which is where I stayed).  Friday night, my friend led the charge in his Mini Cooper.  In Valliant, Oklahoma a cop stopped us for going too fast.  We had seen no sign indicating the speed limit.  The cop was dead set on issuing a speeding ticket.  My friend accepted it and we moved along.  We reached the state park at 9:30pm.  Driving around in the dark, we observed a staggering amount of cabins.  The signs listed the cabins by their number.  I asked, “What is the number of the cabin we are staying in?”  “I don’t know.”  My stomach lurched.  He was losing his cell phone reception, so I tried to call all 5 of the contact numbers for this event.  No one answered.  We stopped at a store in the park.  The store was closed for the night, but I persistently knocked on the door.  One of the employees opened it.  “I’m sorry to bother you, I know you are closed, but we are lost.  Could we use your phone?”  My friend used their landline to call the contact numbers.  No response.  My stomach sent out a strong signal to the rest of my body.  It was a sharp ache.  I knew the pain was from fear.  I kept my voice cheerful, but I was trying to not panic.  My friend was trying to keep his cool also.  We thanked the employees for letting us use their phone and left.  Outside, the darkness was profound.  I am used to ‘city dark.’  So being in the country, I am reminded of what real darkness looks like.  The forest was alive.  I heard many sounds no doubt a welcoming chorus from all the birds, insects and critters.  We drove around some more, asking random folks “Are you here for the Bloat-n-Float?”  Twice we asked, both times the response came, “What?”  We headed back towards the entrance to the park.  In a flash, my friend saw a clue in the form of a biker.  The biker was pulled over to the side of the road.  He recognized this stranger by the patch on the back of his leather jacket.  It read ‘Third Tradition’ which is a NA group.  He asked the biker about the location of the campsite.  We weren’t the only ones that were struggling to find it.  The biker, Aaron, ended up being our savior angel.  He took us to the spot.  We arrived at 10:30pm.  My stomach started to relax it’s fierce grip.  I got out of the car.  My legs started to wake up.  The campsite was bustling with activity even at this late hour.  We checked in.  We had a reservation for 2 kayaks.  To confirm our kayak reservation, we had to stand in another line.  Once we got to the front, the man asked for payment.  It was $25 per kayak.  Cash only.  My friend said, "I don't have any cash."  I looked at him-dumbfounded!  My facial expression probably could have easily killed a warm blooded animal.  “Hey, I’ve got cash.”  I went to the car and grabbed it.  I handed it to the kayak man.  He let us keep the reservation, with the promise that my friend would pay the rest the next day.  Cabin 6, was where we bunked.  It was primitive.  Bunk beds lined the walls.  There was one air conditioning unit working hard to cool the place off.  My cabin-mates all looked very tough.  If I had to compare them to a food definitely it would be beef jerky.  Luckily I have a knack for befriending people.  My bed was right next to the air conditioner.  I froze that night.  I kept wanting the night to end and the new day to begin.  Luckily my bladder behaved (because the restroom was not in the cabin).  I did not have to go to the bathroom until 6am.  At that point I sat outside with 2 women who were reading their meditation/prayers aloud.  Once everyone was awake, we made our way to the mess hall for breakfast.  The biscuits and gravy were pretty good.  After breakfast, I showered, applied my sunblock, mosquito spray, and dressed for the water.  We took a bus to the site where you get your canoe or kayak.  It took a while before we got on the water.  I asked several peeps how long it would take.  5 hours.  I had no snacks on me.  I started to worry about getting hungry on my voyage.  Another bus took us to the launch site.  The water was cold.  I ended up just taking my water bottle and a rag(for my sweat).  The temperature on the river was ideal.  The sun was shining, but it was cool.  It was awkward paddling at first, but I got the hang of it.  A blue heron swooped down to grab a fish, then flew to the bank of the river to eat.  Hawks circled high in the sky.  I tumbled over once.  Luckily, as my kayak moved down the river, people were there to grab it.  I walked in the fast moving water backwards to get hold of my paddle.  My water bottle and rag were long gone.  My friend helped me get back in the kayak.  I was on my way again.  No hurts, but I did regret losing my water bottle.  We got to the waterfall and my friend went down.  The river took his boat, paddle, shoes, but thankfully he got them back.  Once he was up and ready again, we paddled on.  I sang a song by Queen “We Are The Champions.”  On the water, my friend and I had a pretty deep conversation.  If you were stuck on Gilligan’s Island, who would you sleep with?  I picked the professor (because clearly I’m a goofball-he is serious-opposites attract).  My friend picked Mary Ann...DUH!  No explanation necessary for that.  We pulled out of the water at 11:30 just in time for lunch.  We drove into downtown Broken Bow, and inhaled a cheeseburger at Sonic.  I ate tots too.  Yummy.  I started to feel my dehydration at this point.  I kept drinking water.  We went to Walmart, to buy me some more water and to get cash to pay the kayak man.  Back at camp, all was quiet.  A lot of folks were not back yet.  We took a nap.  I slept until 4:30, then got up.  Sitting outside, we conversed with folks.  Everyone was friendly.  A couple of the women from our cabin could tell I was not a member of the NA.  I guess I gave it away by being cheerful, my arms unmarked by ‘using’ and all my teeth looked good.  FACT: Drug use really messes up your teeth.  My friend told me that if anyone asks what home group I’m from just say “I’m a normie.”  I imagined normie was the offspring produced by the brief love affair or tryst between the words normal and roomie.  Saturday we ate a steak dinner in the mess hall, then played cards.  On the way to dinner, a little girl was playing in the sand.  She was adorable.  My friend and I were wearing matching Hawaiian leis.  She showed an interest in this unique type of floral adornment, so he gave her his lei.  For the rest of the night this five year old girl and I were sisters-united-by-leis.  I should have taken a picture, but I didn’t.  All weekend I pretty much stayed away from technology, preferring instead to remain “off the grid.”  I am proud to report that no mosquitos, chiggers or ticks bothered me.  (I was worried about that.)  On Sunday morning, we ate pancakes with syrup.  Then we loaded up the car and attended the last meeting.  The meeting featured a speaker (with all the speaking talent of a hillbilly).  I snapped a photo.  My friend whispered, “You aren’t supposed to take a picture...remember this is anonymous.”  Finally when the man stopped talking, I hugged all the women that I had befriended in our cabin and we departed.  We drove back to the DFdub.  I really enjoyed our conversations going to and coming from camp.  He is definitely easy to talk to.  Thanks to my sister and her husband for babysitting my car while I was on this adventure.  Thank you to my grandmother for relentlessly pursuing my uncle until she had acquired one adult lifejacket in hand for me to borrow.  Thanks AT&T for providing service while I was out in the wilderness (especially considering that all other providers failed).  Thank you to my friend for inviting me!  Cheers.

Thursday, August 2, 2012

Colorado


My summer vacation was amazing.  I was accompanied by my dear friend Tamara. We took a roadtrip in her brand new car.  Our destination was Denver or the mile high city.  FACT: Tamara and I would both like to eventually end up in Colorado.  The journey was 13 hours, that’s 767 miles through the Texas Panhandle and the finger of Oklahoma.  We passed Amarillo and Dumas.  We paused at Loafs-n-Jugs gas station in Springfield.  An old timer asked, “What kind of car is that?”  “It’s a Mini Cooper.”  Bugs the size of golf balls kept colliding with the windshield.  We waved at a bus of Christians and no one smiled or waved back.  DOH!  I saw only one deer, but a multitude of adult video stores plus dirt and potholes. In Claude, I observed a motel called “It’ll Do.”  Nice. We paused in Clarendon to refuel and eat our sandwichs.  I made toasted multigrain bagel sandwiches with cucumber, tomato and avocado.  After lunch, we made good time.  Once we were in Colorado, we stopping briefly in Lamar.  According to mountain time, we lost an hour.  The weather was arid, humid, hot.  We encountered a few minor hiccups with my navigation.  During the drive, we created a code.  If one of us said, “Charlie Sheen” it meant “get me away from this guy.” If we said “Recreation Room” it meant “let’s leave, this sucks.”  Allistaire (the car) performed beautifully.  On the drive, the fields appeared bleached blonde.  Once we were within the Denver city limits, I went to change lanes.  Bump!  The sound was so loud, I was scared half to death.  Tamara had me pullover so she could inspect the car.  Luckily, there was no bodily damage.  We arrived at the hotel, finally, at 11:30 our time.  A large round man (who hummed a lot) checked us in.  As expeditiously as we could, we unpacked and got to bed.  On Saturday, we ate the continental breakfast and watched the local news.  It is not a good sign when you hear: fire rages on, a local professor busted for cross-dressing and hooking, rabies found...all before you have been able to drink your first cup of coffee.  It reminded me why I don’t watch the news.  At 9am, we made it to the Denver Crossfit gym.  A hulking sweaty guy with a chest the size of a tree trunk was finishing lifting his set (minus a shirt).  I couldn’t stop looking at him. We waited for the 9am class to start.  The workout was very challenging: run, throw a wall ball, air squats, pushups using rings, jump rope, and situps. Tamara and I both left red-faced, huffing and puffing.  Now, before this trip, I made a serious effort to create social possibilities.  For example, I chatted with local Denver residents on Craigslist.  I joined a Denver Meetup Group so we could attend one of their mixers.  Saturday at 1:30 was a live music patio meetup at The Corner Office Bar and Grill.  I had trouble navigating on my phone to find where this place was.  After we parked we ended up having to walk 8 blocks in hot hot sun.  We were both dressed up and wearing heals.  The sun baked us!  My blood sugar was getting low.  Finally we made it to this place, but sitting on a hot patio no longer sounded fun.  We ordered food inside.  I perked up.   On the walk back to the car, we passed an elephant all dressed up in traditional Indian dress for a wedding.  The newly married Indian couple got on top of the elephant to ride around the city.  It was impressive.  The next place we went was a bar called Linger.  We arrived at 4:30 only to learn that the doors don’t open till 5:30pm.  DOH!  We ended up trying to find a shady spot to sit and wait.  An ice cream place was close by with outside seating.  We sat there.  Tamara played a game on her phone, while I people watched.  It was still very hot.  Beads of sweat would appear randomly and frequently on my skin; I tried to ignore it.  Finally 5:30pm arrived, we walked back to the bar and there was a long line of people waiting to get in.  I felt myself start to panic, but I pushed the feeling away.  Luckily, it did not take too long for us to get in.  We walked straight to the bar.  The guy from the Crossfit gym, remember treetrunk chest guy, apparently he worked at Linger (he had a shirt on this time).   After much consideration I concluded, that I liked him better ‘shirt-free.’  The bartenders all wore shirts.  Blah!  Two of them spent more time talking to us.  I briefly conversed with a local.  After we left Linger, we ate Thai food.  Yummy!  We returned to the hotel and 20 adults stood around the lobby drinking beer and talking.  I observed that small gangs of children ran around freely.  I asked a woman in the elevator about the friendliness of the folks here.  I said, “I have never seen such a sense of community in a hotel.”  She said, “Oh we all know each other.  We are all from the same small town.  We’re here for a baseball tournament.”  So the whole town of Sterling, Colorado had congregated in our hotel.  On Sunday we ate breakfast then ran at Standley Park in Westminster.  The park was beautiful.  I  encountered a family of prairie dogs.  It was heaven!  We jogged the trail.  I took pictures.  I never saw one piece of trash.  Denver people seemed to have more pride in their state (versus Texas where I frequently see trash).  Afterwards, we visited Panera Bread for a pastry and a latte. I saw a Coors Credit Union which struck me as odd.  It didn’t seem logical to work hard, save hard, only to let a bank named after a beer ‘watch-over’ your money.  We went to the Butterfly Pavilion.  I saw the biggest spider I had ever seen in my life.  The butterfly’s were beautiful.  Then, we watched Dark Shadows (the movie with Johnny Depp) at a local theater.  Luckily, no shootings.  Dinner was at La Sandia Cantina.  I had cheese enchiladas.  By this point in the vacation I was much improved at being the navigator.  Tamara was driving.   Once we got back to the hotel, we did adult madlibs, read them aloud and laughed.  On Monday(our last day) we walked around at Boulder Mountain Park.  I saw another deer.  Since we couldn’t really jog the mountain, we drove to Chataqua Park and hiked a trail instead.  It was a perfect day.  I did not mind the sun.  Afterwards, we returned to the hotel, cleaned up and went to Strange Brewing Company.  It was a small warehouse filled with regulars.  The brewing company was the highlight of the vacation for me because I finally got the social interaction that I wanted.  We did a tasting, then ordered a pint.  I didn’t want to leave.  Tamara talked to a tourist who was from New Zealand.  It was perfect.  I drank the Zora Pale Ale and conversed with the head brewer Tim.  Lila was the minister of frothy libations (what a great title).  Before we left, Tamara bought a growler for her dad. I bought a hat for mine. The New Zealand guy, upon learning, that I’m a Texan guessed I was from Austin (since I’m so weird).  I told him weird people live in the Dallas/Fort Worth area too!! So there.