Trains run all day and night in Amarillo, Texas. The trains ran past us on the interstate (which is still also Route 66) as we crossed into Oklahoma.
The high plains are train country. Many of them are shipping Amazon and FedEx containers from port to port, city to city. The infrastructure we built more than a century ago is still doing its job.
We dropped in altitude from 4,000 feet to about 1,500 feet and were ready to spend some time in Oklahoma, a state we had never visited before.
Our first stop was a small urban farm in Oklahoma City – Cityside Farm – that agreed to let us and Prufrock stay for the night, via the Harvest Host app.
We pulled in around dinner time, and the owner, Cory, greeted us as he drove his pickup by. We were interested in his operation, and he told us that he started the farm with a couple of partners, but now it’s just him. He’s also a young dad – with a baby and a toddler. He seemed pretty tired. Cory asked us if we were in for the night – but we weren’t. We wanted to head out to eat downtown. Cory said he wouldn’t lock the gate – he’d be up baking cinnamon buns into the early morning hours for a farmer’s market on site the next day.
We wanted to check out the Bricktown District in OKC. Bricktown Brewery was kind of average, with a chain-like feel. But we marveled at all the investment in that part of town as we walked around later. Bricktown bills itself as an “industrial-chic” entertainment district, with repurposed warehouse spaces home to restaurants, piano lounges and wine bars. A water taxi cruises the Bricktown Canal. It’s a pretty impressive spot.
On the edge of Bricktown is Chickasaw Bricktown Park, the stadium that is home to the Oklahoma City Dodgers, the AAA affiliate of Los Angeles. Like in several cities we’ve been in, the minor league park is well-designed, clean and welcoming. This stadium pays homage to two baseball hall of famers who hail from Oklahoma: Mickey Mantle and Johnny Bench. These truly are two of the greats. The description of Mantle on his statue made me wish I had really seen him play.
We drove back to the farm, cranked the AC in Prufrock (this is foreshadowing) and went to bed.
The next morning, we were up and ready for a full day in Oklahoma’s largest city. Karen bought cinnamon buns, radishes, tomatoes and sour dough bread to fulfill our requirements. (We later venmod him some money to cover our second night.
Again, we headed to the city’s river trail system for our run. We love those, and OKC does it well.
We parked at a ferris wheel in the Wheeler District – a new urbanism development on an old miltary base that Cory had told us about. We ran west, then east, then into downtown. But the temperatures climbed into the 90s. It was too hot to reach our ambitious daily mileage goal, so we cut things short, “showered” in a splash pad, then had great tacos at Taco Nation and some beer at The Big Friendly, which is also a nickname for Oklahoma but also an award-winning brewery – having won Brewery of the Year from the Great American Beer Festival for the second consecutive year, while we were there.
We then decided to head to the site of the former Murrah Building and remind ourselves and learn more about the devastating 1995 Oklahoma City boming.
The memorial site – with its empty chairs and meaningful spaces – is powerful. I choked up as soon as I walked in.
Then we headed into the museum. It refreshed my memory. Rescue workers went through 16 grim days of recovery, propping up floors with wood to prevent more collapse as the death toll grew.
The state trooper who conducted the traffic stop that led to the arrest of Timothy McVeigh is a true hero. McVeigh’s getaway car, a yellow Mercury Marquis, is on display. The colossal investigation that produced the evidence that led to a guilty verdict two years after the bombing was a model of cooperation and skill. McVeigh was put to death five years later.
It felt like a time when government worked. Would that happen today? The bombing remains the worst act of domestic terrorism in the nation.
But Oklahoma City has boomed since then. It feels like investment poured in for the centennial celebration in 2007. It’s now a big league city with an NBA franchise. A great community rose from the debris of that bombing.
We had dinner at a food hall off of Automobile Alley called Parlor. We recommend, though it was a little loud. (We old.)
It was still 90 degrees after sunset when we headed back to Prufrock. We cranked up the AC again, but pretty soon, it stopped. We had been unplugged for more than 2 days, and drained our batteries. We reached the limits of our boondocking power. But Ava the farm dog didn’t stop barking. It was a rough night.
In the morning – every power system – not just the AC – was dead. So we skedaddled to our next stop, Tulsa, and more Travels With Prufrock.
Technical update
We learned the limits of our batteries the hard way. But, we needed to find out. I thought we had been told that we could let the charge drop to “6” – but I think I misunderstood, and it’s 12.6 volts. Below that, I now believe, and everything dies. I also thought we had one lithium batter for the boondocking AC, and another battery for everything else. But that may not be true. That’s another question on the list for Happier Camper support.
