Where the Wind Comes Whipping

Oklahoma… where the wind comes whipping up the plain. Plain is right.

I’d never been to Oklahoma before. OK-LA-HO-MA Oklahoma! My goal today: to get the hell out of it.

My journey began, wheels to the interstate, at 4 pm Central time. I turned in the keys to my apartment and began the long journey west from Nashville to San Diego. This time, I’m driving.

The sun set early in the drive. Memphis is pretty at night. Unfortunately, about the same time you realize that, you’re on the bridge crossing the Mississippi River and crossing the state line to Arkansas. You can’t stop for a picture. For the next several hundred miles, there'd be no other reason to stop.

On the other side of Little Rock, I decided that I could put the whole of Arkansas behind me before calling it a night. By 11:30, I was gassing up in Roland, Oklahoma. Soon after midnight, I began looking for a bed.

If there’s something I’ve learned in my time in the Cherokee Nation, it’s that they don’t want you to spend the night. You're not welcome in the Creek Nation, either. Not that there isn’t ANY place to stop, but here's my thinking: when your horse has wheels and a rather expensive saddle, you don't stay at a place called RODESIDE INN. It may be very nice (my legal department asked me to say that) but, having never heard of it and having no idea the next opportunity would be in Brazil, I drove on. And on. Lord, is there ANYTHING in Oklahoma? One hundred thirty miles later, just short of Oklahoma City and more than 600 miles from home, I found a Days Inn. Finally, something I’d heard of! I stopped and asked for a room, only to find that there were none. The Oklahoma draught has caused serious wildfires, and the hotel was full of firefighters.

Across the road, I found a bed at the Super 8 Motel. Though not as familiar as Days Inn, at least I’d heard of it. And I wasn’t willing to cross another hundred miles of barren terrain looking for something else. I paid my $52 dollars for a smoky room -- the only single available -- and attempted to update my blog, full of observations. Again, no dice. I hadn't known to ask for an ID and password when I checked in.

Today, I plan to stop in Elk City to see the National Route 66 Museum and eat at a restaurant recommended by Jane and Michael Stern (Road Food column, Gourmet magazine). I'll stop at Billy's... if I can find a wireless connection and directions.

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Eureka! Got the password on check out! I’m 1/3 done: 1386 miles to San Diego from the Shawnee Super 8. Elk City only hours away!

Current events in Oklahoma City: the natives are in a lather. Michael Fortier will be released today.