6-27-10
Day 25
Chandler to Bristow
Waking was not as easy as past mornings. I was feeling the after effects of yesterday’s fall. I looked at my bike and, guess what; it still looked hurt with a tweaked front wheel and loose rear brake handle. I felt its pain. My wrist, shoulder and hip were letting me know that today was going to be a little rough. I was just happy that the skin was not breached as I can deal with soreness much easier. There was no coffee maker in the room so I got out my trusty stove, boiled some water and had a few cups of dried coffee and dry cereal that I have for occasions like this. It was a wonderful start. The humidity was getting thicker and the temperature at 6am was already seventy degrees. I was happy to be alive to enjoy another day, pain and all, will make this trip one to be remembered. The sun was rising and I wondered just how hot it would be today. My camelback and three bottles were full of water, everything was packed and I was off.
There was no one else on the road. It was quiet with no human activity, just me. And then I heard that wonderful sound -- the birds had awakened and the picture in front of me was complete. The sun to the east with some scattered clouds and a lot of clear blue sky. I fixed my attention to the changing colors the clouds go through before the sun rises above them giving only heat to mother earth and ME. I was on the road for a short two miles when I heard a familiar sound. BARK, BARK. I looked to my right and saw him crawling out from some foliage along a fence with a home set back about a hundred feet. He did not appear to be an issue because he stood there just looking and I passed without incident. Much to my surprise, I heard paws pounding the ground behind me, and I looked to my right and saw him jogging to my left side. He was in no hurry and remained there for a short time, then picking up the pace to keep up with me. He was a fifty one fifty mutt. While passing a home he was startled by a bark from another dog and ran to the far left side of the road . I saw that my newly found companion was friendly and only wanted company. So I stopped and gave him some of my water, which he slurped up eagerly while looking up with eyes of appreciation and a connection of peace. My companion ran along with me up the rollers and I slowed my pace when going down the other side to keep him from running too fast. He instead ran past me on the down side looking back periodically as if to say ‘You are moving too slow.’ So I rode my pace up each roller with him next to me and coasted freely down the other side with him lagging behind until the next climb. We continued this way for five miles, me talking to him each time he caught up. I saw it was a game he enjoyed.
We finely arrived into Davenport where I stopped to get a cup of coffee and more water for my friend. I stopped at the local convenience market where the old boys gather for their morning coffee and chat about who knows what. They stared as I got off my bike with my new friend standing by my side panting but on guard. My friend looked up as I settled the bike against a post and sat while I entered the store. I got my coffee and a soda cup full of water for my friend. When I exited the market my friend got up, walked over to me and waited patiently while I put the cup down. I looked over at the old boys and asked if they knew of any restaurants open in the area. One replied saying that if I could wait a few more miles there would be better eating in the next town called Stroud. So, without hesitation, I resigned myself to waiting to eat and asked about the weather. I got two responses. First, “Looks like rain this afternoon.” And the second, “If you get to where you are going before dinner you will be okay.” So, with that much information I looked over to my friend and asked if he was ready to leave. He turned back in the direction we came from and looked at me with his head tilted to the right. At first I figured he was just confused, but I saw that he had come as far as he could by his movements of darting back and forth in the direction we came from together. The old boys must have thought I was off a little while talking to my friend thanking him for his companionship and the pleasant ride into Davenport . I thanked the old boys and rode off with my friend moving in the opposite direction. I was really getting to like that dog; he gave me a comforting feeling as if to ensure my safety for the short distance together.
I arrive into Stroud where I had a good breakfast at the Rock Café. The building was built with the rocks that were pulled from the old Route 66 road running through the town. It was decorated with car characters from the movie CARS. After my meal I was on the road again passing more Route 66 paraphernalia promoting a time of simplicity. The sky was returning to its wet character once again with clouds permitting only what light it wanted and where it wanted. The beauty of it all is between earth and sky where they both meet and complement each other. There were a lot of horse ranches with open plains and boarding ranches with puchion horses mixed in with breeders. Most of the ranches sat between the rollers I was not taking to very well. To think I was told by Michael that they get worse as I ride into Missouri , but I can handle it. The land remained very green with fields of hay that have been rolled, not bailed, giving the touch needed on a canvas for an artist to fill in the blank spaces required for a masterpiece. I saved a turtle from being run over. He was not very big but I have seen the results of turtle road kill. I just hope the little guy or girl will live to enjoy this land a bit longer.
I finally made it into Bristow where I called John Olson giving him the directions of where I have settled in at the McDonalds with a strawberry shake and cheeseburger.
John arrived and it was good to see my friend again. He had not changed any, still smiling and eager to make things comfortable for people he is with. He helps me load my bags and bike onto the back of his truck while talking and catching up on times past. We dropped off my bike at one of the bike shops for repair and were told that it would be ready in a couple of days. John’s involvement was appreciated while listening to him inform the tech of my journey, incident and repair needs. Back in his truck while driving into Tulsa I asked about his family and father hoping to see them before I left. John replied, “Oh, you will.” On arrival at a home in Coweta about twenty miles south of Tulsa the garage door opened exposing a well-kept area with everything in its proper place. I knew then that this was John’s home. John always had a way of keeping things where they belonged and never acquiring clutter. Very meticulous and yet very humble. Always willing to help someone in need, never requesting anything in return. I was given the grand tour of his home and the bedroom which I would occupy for the next three days. Debbie, his wife, returned from work while we were having a beer and dinner was being prepared. Both made feel very much at home with their eagerness to provide me with everything I needed and more. I mentioned I would be on the road as soon as possible, but was stopped by both interjecting that I could stay as long as I needed to. Needless to say I did not complete my sentence and accepted their invitation. I did get to see John’s son Derrick. He was six or seven when I last saw him, he is now twenty nine years old. It was hard to let go of the little fella I knew as the little boy with the round face, bright eyes and a smile that captured the curiosity of what he was thinking of doing next. He was a short, stocky kid with curly blond brown hair, and always running around never afraid to try something different. Well he has kept that excitement in life by his successful football years while racing and performing tricks on dirt bikes. One of his great accomplishments was taking Oklahoma State Weight Lifting Champ in his weight division. John, being the proud father he is, saved all the clippings of Derrick’s years of competition through his school years. I was very proud to see Derrick embrace his father with a kiss, saying I love you as he departed the house for the evening. I mentioned this to John and told him that Derrick is an extension of his father’s love. Debbie reaffirmed this and said John was a dedicated man to his family. Both demonstrated a mutual love and affection through their compliments and respect for each. I got to see John’s father the next day. Mr. Olson lives a few long blocks away and was surprised by my visit. I was very happy to see him in good health. He had a couple of heart surgeries and a bout with prostate cancer, all of which he has managed to conquer. He is eighty three years old now but looks a healthy sixty three, still plays golf and fishes with John and Derrick and keeps himself occupied in between games. I always thought how wonderful it was that where ever John went his dad followed. Before we left John embraced his father and told him, “I love you” and Mr. Olson in return said the same. In the truck on our return to his home I told John we shared the same love for our fathers. He answered “I know, I remember your dad.”
My time with John and Debbie was filled with good laughter, food and, of course, a few beers. What I will remember most is the warmth of the home and feeling of belonging there. One other thing remains with me. John’s home sits on acre with a creek running along the back side of his back yard. He has planted grass and cares for it accordingly. The one thing that has him on his toes are the moles that leave mounds of dirt after a night’s digging. He told me that he tried everything that is sold in the gardening department and all have failed to completely get rid of the varmints. So now, along with his other hunting accomplishments of deer, boars and turkey, he adds to the list, expert mole hunter. I was in the dining room sitting at the table writing my journal one afternoon when John pushed the door open and said “I got him!” I looked at him standing there in the center of the door holding a pitchfork up with the varmint hanging from one of sharp metal prongs. I bust out in laughter because of the excitement on John’s face as if he just bagged a wild game trophy. We all started laughing together and I realized how comfortable and full of life this home was. I will miss our sharing of the good and bad times past with the best outcome we could have ever expected. The health and happiness of our children, with the ability to still help them in need and the never bending of parental love for them. Thank you all for the wonderful time together and your display of love and respect. It was a good rest and refilling of a cup half empty. I will be back for another session in Cowedan life.
Tomorrow, Tulsa to Claremore
Luv ya all
Old man admiring Jeremiah John-son
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