Tans and rust and shades of blue

The best way to get from one small town to the next is not always the highway. I had a little time to spare today between stops in Sapulpa and Keystone, and headed northwest via backroads.

I cannot see a road like this without wanting to run it. Each hill seems to invite me, one summit deserves another. What a good way to get clean shoes dirty--but I did not have time to run.

Crossing Rock Creek. There is a geocache here, but I could not find it. This creek was a local swimming hole 50 some-odd years ago. My Dad met my Mom here. Later, when I was less than 2 years old, I nearly drowned in this creek. I still remember throwing big rocks in the water, and then falling and thrashing through the water. I remember vomiting water and coughing until I had hurled all the creek water from my lungs.

This is Pretty Water Lake. There is a geocache here under the bridge--and I did find it.

This lake gets it's name honestly. The water is cool year round--I suspect it is spring-fed.

The lake was formed in the 1930s, the bridge in 1999.

Across the earthen dam, a trail led around the southern bank. Of course, I was excited.

Then I saw this sign that said anybody caught trespassin' would be shot on sight. So I jumped on the fence and-a yelled at the house, "Hey! What gives you the right?
To put up a fence to keep me out or to keep mother nature in--
If God was here he'd tell you to your face, Man, you're some kinda sinner!"

But I behaved and turned around. The water was calm, the skies blue, and each seemed to challenge the other. It was a picture-takers dream.

A calm place to fish. You cannot really see them very well in these pictures, but there were a few very small ducks enjoying the water.

No nature post from me would be complete without an upshot of a tree. I had burnt enough time, and headed off to Keystone--but there were no better sights there that the vistas of Pretty Water Lake.