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Monday Morning Musings - - August 12, 2002 Driving through northern rural Missouri was quite pleasant. The corn fields were maturing and the roadside were filled with the pale blue chicory and white Queen Anne's lace. I couldn't help singing the old ditty: "Chicory Chick Cha la cha la, Chuckle a romey, inna bananica…" My traveling companions on CD's for this day were Patsy Cline, Ray Charles, and Instrumental Legends Vols. 1 & 2. As I topped the crest of a hill and started down the other side, I saw in the road ahead of me a doe and it's fawn. They saw me and froze, so I slowed down tapping my brakes to warn the car behind me. I got to within fifty feet of them to where I could clearly see the pretty white-spot pattern of the fawn before they finally went into the tall grass and out of my way. At the Lake of the Ozarks, Rick had a fine campsite for the new pop-up trailer camper they had just bought. They were on a concrete slab that served as a patio, had several mature trees for shade, were within sight of the security building, but had no immediate neighbors, and were a short walk from the swimming hole and fishing spots. While there I went with them to a dumpster where we rescued some young raccoons that had climbed in and couldn't get out. A long stick laid down into the dumpster gave them something to climb out on. I stayed in a motel nearby and headed out the next morning for Oklahoma City. On the way I stopped in at what is billed as the world's largest McDonalds. It is in the sense that the Golden Arch was built spanning the highway. Inside is the usual McDonalds eatery with a gift shop and tourist information place. In Oklahoma City I visited the Omniplex, a collection of museums and such containing an OmniDome Theater (like the Imax ones), a planetarium, indoor/outdoor gardens, an art gallery, a Native American Museum, an air and space museum and the International Photography Hall of Fame and Museum. It took a while to take in all these sights. I had mainly planned just to visit the aviation museum (a very good one), but spent a lot of time in the photography display. The main halls of the huge complex are filled with interactive, hands-on science displays that kept hundreds of kids busy while I was there. This place is well worth the visit. Friday I made it through the maze of overpasses and underpasses of Fort Worth's Interstate 35W and got to Scott's house in Arlington in time for lunch. In the afternoon we went to two different locations of Half Price Books (see www.halfpricebooks.com, they have13 locations in the Dallas/Fort Worth area.). Fascinating places to browse through, and I got away with just one purchase. On Saturday the main goal was the bookstore in Archer City, Texas, owned by Larry McMurtry, author of Lonesome Dove, Terms of Endearment, The Last Picture Show, etc. The Last Picture Show was set in Archer City, which in the book was called Thalia, but the town was described in detail down to the bricks in the courthouse building. I had just read the book, so while visiting the place it was pleasantly difficult to separate the real Archer City from the fictional Thalia. The bookstore, called Booked-Up is in four different buildings, with staff personnel in only one. You wander through the town to the different buildings and carry your stuff back to the main place to check out. I found his prices to be on the high side of reasonable, with books of any value being on the high side of high. I got the impression that this was really his private library and he reluctantly parted with the books if you were willing to pay the price. Almost anything in there could be bought on the Internet at much lower prices, but it was awesome to see all the books he had in stock. Again I got away with just one purchase. And for those of you familiar with the book or movie The Last Picture Show, we walked by the theater and the courthouse and ate at the Dairy Queen - the very ones you saw in the movie. On the way out to Archer City we viewed the ground antenna for the Naval Space Surveillance project. It doesn't look like any standard radar antenna, as it lays on the ground like a railroad track and extends about a mile on either side of our vantage point. We also stopped at an old airport that had a WWII history which Scott documented with camera for his base hunting project. (see www.airforcebase.net) On the way home we visited Fort Richardson State Park and Historic Site in Jacksboro, TX, a large, well-equipped state park with a restored fort, named for a Civil War General killed at Antietam who happens to be a sixth cousin several times removed. Then, on the outskirts of Fort Worth we drove to Meacham Field to see an aviation museum. Sunday we headed for a local state park called Cedar Hill, the highlight of which was seeing a road-runner up close. I beep-beeped at him, to which he promptly squatted and dropped a load on the grass then ran off in his quick little scoots like he was fleeing from Wiley Coyote. The lowlight of this park was two demonstration fields that they called samples of the tall-grass prairie, but in which I could see no tall-grasses. It looked to me like a mixed grass prairie at best since nothing grew over two or three feet high. In our tall grass prairie up here in Iowa, which still hasn't peaked for the season, the bulk of the vegetation is already four feet high with the taller big bluestems reaching up to six or seven feet. >From Cedar Hill we headed north of Dallas to the Cavanaugh Flight Museum, which really impressed me with the way they maintain it. Even the old planes that they give rides in, when parked in the display hanger shine and glisten like they were new! A fine collection of planes and memorabilia here. Then down into Dallas to Love Field where the Frontiers of Flight Museum is installed on the upper deck of the terminal. There was no trouble with security in getting to it, but it sure was a long confusing walk from the parking garage. I treated Scott to lunch at an Italian place with a unique layout. As you come in, you pass through the kitchen and then enter the dining area. The tables sit on two sides of the main hall with the maitre'd and waiters stations in the middle, and everything is separated by low partitions rather than walls. After we were seated, I stood up and looked around at this unusual arrangement, studying all aspects of it. The maitre'd came running over asking me if I wanted to change tables or something. I assured him that all was well, I was just admiring the layout. I learned a neat trick here, though. I like the Italian custom of serving a saucer of oil and spices to dip the bread in, and have made up my own at home by putting spices into a bottle with inexpensive cooking olive oil rather than pay the exorbitant prices that the stores charge when they sell it in prepared bottles. But here they poured out the oil, then took a pepper mill and ground the spices into the oil, so I shall switch to that method. Monday morning I headed west and north towards Amarillo. As I drove it seemed relatively flat, but I noticed on my GPS receiver that the elevation was gradually increasing, and I also noticed that the temperature was staying cool even though the morning was wearing off – a good indication of increasing elevation. Within a few hours I had risen several hundred feet and watched the land change from cropland to range land to almost desert. I watched for a roving tumbling tumbleweed, but had to settle for a good-sized dust-devil and an occasional mesa as an indication of the hot dusty climate of the Texas panhandle. Where else but in macho Texas would you see frequent signs for paint-ball supplies and guaranteed vasectomy reversals. The place was littered with silent oil well pumps sitting like sentinels among the mesquite and cactus. I stayed in a motel that had few people and many flies, gnats, and bugs. The desk clerk was a lady named Murdock who wasn't at all interested in comparing genealogy notes. The local aviation museum had a big sign advertising it as the fifth largest aviation museum in the country. When I queried the people inside about it they couldn't name the other four, and when I started rattling off several that were bigger they said, "Oh, they don't count, they're in a different category." It seems that some Texans will stretch anything to get bragging rights. Tuesday morning I visited the Big Basin Prairie Preserve where I drove along a gravel road to a place called St. Jacob's Well. The signs said to watch out for buffalo, and sure enough, when I got to the well I could see one off in the distance, which I caught on film. Well, no, not really on film – I used my digital camera so I guess I caught it on disc. I just can't get used to the new terminology. Next was a visit to the Pioneer Krier Museum that had a small aviation display and a very talkative guide – an interesting person, but he added a half hour to an already tight schedule, causing me to forego a late afternoon visit to a museum in Wichita. Driving east in Kansas the grass started greening, the wildflowers returned to the roadsides and the number of trees increased. The dominant colors were the yellow and orange of the sunflowers, brown-eyed Susan's and asters, with a little purple from the thistle, vetch and clover. It was pleasant driving. One of the main goals of the trip was to visit the Tallgrass Prairie National Preserve in Kansas. It lies in Chase County which I feel I know well after reading parts of William Least Heat-Moon's book PrairyErth which describes the county in detail. They are doing a great job of restoring the prairie here and have restored an old farm on the property as well. One final stop before I got back to Iowa was in Marysville, Kansas where several of the pioneer trails came through, including a major stop on the Pony Express Trail. This fascinating experience of carrying the mail on horseback only lasted about eighteen months, but will last forever in the history books. Finally home with pages of notes on the trip, bunches of questions to research and the outline of several new stories. A good trip. Love, Gene |
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