10Apr10 (Sat)– Driving through Colorado and Oklahoma

A wonderful home-cooked breakfast by Karen, the other owner at the Plaza Inn, was our sendoff into the driving portion of our trip. We were an hour into the drive when I realized it had happened. In truth, I can't believe I made it this far without doing it sooner. I left my camera battery charger at the Inn. I panicked for a bit (it’s not something you can pick up at any store) but then calmed myself once I realized I had three fully charged batteries, and that would probably last me to PA. Karen very sweetly has offered to send it to me in PA.

Early in the drive, Derek saw a sign for the Ludlow Massacre Memorial, so naturally it sparked his attention. When we found out, via blackberry, that it was also a ghost town, we turned around and drove the 9 miles back to it. Right before we turned around, we had passed a long freight train chugging along the opposite way (back towards the ghost town). It turns out the rails ran right by the former town, and we’d beat the train there. All that is left of Ludlow are a few decaying wooden cabins, most in shambles, some only piles of wood. We heard the train coming before we saw it, and watched and photographed as it thundered by, an odd juxtaposition of the life and power of the train contrasted with the isolation and deadness of the town. The friendly train conductor blew the train’s whistle at us, and I waved wildly in return. It was a cool moment.

Down the road is the actual memorial. In 1913, the mining town of Ludlow striked against the abhorrent working conditions (Colorado mine fatalities were 2-3 times more than the national average, and miners were only paid for coal gathered rather than all of the dead work setting up requires). The miners were promptly thrown out of their homes and replaced. With the help of the United Mine Workers of America they created a tent community nearby to continue the strike. The National Guard was sent in to keep the peace and instead opened fire on April 20^th, and set the tents on fire. The miners returned fire, but most of the fatalities were theirs. This massacre started a ten day fight between the Colorado union members and the militia where over 50 people died. Ultimately the strike failed, and many of the miners involved were sent to jail, while the National Guard was only reprimanded. It did, however, help turn the tide, as the public was horrified at what had happened. It led to less violent confrontations and implementation of the mining companies to offer better housing and better working conditions. I wonder what it was like to be part of something like that – would the eventual success years later help nurse the wounds of the more keen sense of immediate failure? Of spending months or years in jail, of having lost loved ones to something so vicious and inhumane? The lesson of Ludlow (people’s tendency towards violence as resolution) has really stuck with me. I felt for those miners.

Feeling a bit humbled, and glad we’d stopped, we continued on our way. The drive droned into monotony before we even hit Oklahoma. A whole lot of flat grassland and….not much else. The line of the horizon played with our eyes. I wondered how far we were seeing. Some of the grass was yellowed and dead looking. Other gras was newly planted and green. We saw a lot of cows. In fact, to entertain ourselves, we played the cow game. What, might you ask, is the cow game? Well, if you see a field of cows, you claim them as your own. (MY COWS!) before the other person can. Each field counts as 1. If you see a church, you try to claim that as yours (I MARRY MY COWS!) and your cows double. If you see a graveyard, you kill all the other person’s cows and they go back to 0. Derek also added the rule that if you saw a McDonalds, you could eat one of the other person’s cows. Derek was dubious at first about this game, but he got into it pretty quickly. Pretty soon, screams of COWS! was ringing all through the car. Oddly enough, in Oklahoma, their cemeteries don’t seem to be out in the open, there’s green signs that point the way, but you can never actually see them, so there wasn’t much opportunity for mass slaughter, though Derek did catch me once. As Derek later admitted, it’s a pretty ingenious game, because three things you’ll always find (especially in rural America) are cows, churches and graveyards.

We had looked up potentially interesting stopping points in Northern Oklahoma, but nothing that particularly drew our attention. So, instead, we stopped for a late lunch in a small town with two food choices. One that had TACOS written across the tin roof, and a cafe. We picked the café, and it turned out to be some kickass Mexican food. We’ve been scoring with our food choices across the board.

We did eventually stop for a few moments in Boise City, Oklahoma, so Derek could take his picture with a huge metal dinosaur. He was hoping at some point on this trip to hike to fossilized Dinosaur prints, but alas, like many things we wanted to do, we’ve simply run out of time.

We were going a little nuts in the car. Derek started acting like a special child. It’s something he likes to do now and again. Usually I don’t mind, (although if he goes on long enough I begin to feel like a disturbed pedophile) though when we’re in public and he starts shouting out things that cause sideway glances from others, I get a little upset. But in this case, I got it. We were driving through the most monotonous scenery we’d yet encountered, for hour after unending hour. We were both fidgety.

We saw a windmill down a dirt road when sunset was near, so we decided to stretch our legs and use it as a foreground to our sunset photos of the day. It was a nice little break, but returning to the car was a necessary inevitability.

When it hit 9pm, we were both getting a little tired, but determined to make it to Stillwater, which we hoped would put us in Eureka for 4pm the next day. We bought some of that really sweet, syrupy cappuccino stuff that I’ve always liked, even though I know it’s disgusting, and now I’ve gotten Derek addicted to it too. Something about the caffeine and the obscene amount of sugar really helps. Then I read to Derek from a book I’d exchanged at the Plaza Inn library (guests leave books they’re finished behind and take another one on their journey). I managed that for an hour before the old nausea took too much hold. Then I began feeding him gum, m&m’s and whatever I could find to keep us both occupied and awake. We talked atlas talk. We listened to Joy Division. I drifted off for fifteen minutes or so towards the end, but all in all toughed it out. And in this fashion, around 12:30am, bleary eyed, and cranky from fatigue (at least I was - one of my less endearing qualities, that my mood is inversely affected by how tired I am) we arrived in Stillwater. We’d picked the town because it looked fairly big on the map and we thought it would have a lot of motel options. Turns out it was a large college town and also Mom’s weekend so almost every place was booked up. Go figure. Some kindly soul at one of the hotels took pity on us and called around, until he found out a new hotel – called Microtel, had an opening. Who names a place Microtel? Sounds so corporate – it makes me shudder. But they had a room and we took it, and it was clean, and the night guy was friendly, so at that point, that’s all that mattered. Figured I should get some good sleep while I could, since tomorrow we’d be spending the night in one of America’s most haunted hotels in Eureka Springs, and good sleep probably wasn’t on the agenda.

Captions:

1. Ludlow

2.Boise City, Oklahoma

3. Driving in Oklahoma

4. Sunset with a windmill

5. Going a bit nuts in the car while I blog

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