Driving home on a winding road along a hillside, I hit a chug-hole in the road, which for a second I thought knocked my back out of whack. In the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of something silver whiz by me, and it zigged and zagged before exiting the road over the edge of a long steep drop off. I pulled over to inspect my tire, and as I feared, the silver passer-by was one of my hub caps.
Fortunately, there was a wide shoulder and even a place to pull completely off the road. Most folks would have just let the hubcap go, being down what looked like a 100 foot deep ravine, but not me. I still ha\d my running stuff and trail shoes on from my morning run, and took this as an adventure.
The only way down was too steep to walk, but I descended holding on to any small tree I could find and using tree bases for solid braking places for my skidding feet. I really had no clear idea where the hubcap was, and with the still plentiful snow cover, it could have skidded under a drift. I quickly became more interested in the culvert at the bottom.
A second culvert went under a nearby railroad track. I'd like to see these after torrential rains.
The long passage under the road above was spooky. I am sure I am a little to much of a chicken to pass this way by night. But maybe not--I DID visit a 100 year old cemetery with Satan on one of the tombstones once. A pile of wood (maybe firewood), some old discarded clothes, and several empty milk jugs and 2-liter bottles made me wonder if some modern day moonshine aka meth had been cooked here.
Climbing out the other side, and taking a picture it looks more like a mine shaft entrance. I decided to follow the boulder strewn dry creek bed for a while as it seemed like a trail of sorts. My path was flanked by towering inclines on both sides with old growth trees, dead-fall, and briers.
Less than a half mile south, I came to a huge overhang--a shelter from a heavy rain or snow if one were stranded here. Feeling like I might be exploring where no one had explored before, I had that idea dashed by crumpled Bud Lite cans littered. Oklahoma rednecks.
Finally, the creek bed was intersected by a 4-wheel drive road which led upward and eastward. I stayed in the creek bed which showed signs of wheeled and foot traffic. About a quarter mile later, the road/trail headed out of the creek bed. That was good--maybe. Getting back to my car before dark was a concern, but climbing out of the cry creek brought the setting sun back up over the horizon. I followed, and the route seemed to bend back toward my car.
One last climb, and I could tell I'd made a big loop--one I would like to do again. Another hubcap quest when the snow melts.
When in doubt, always follow a power line. Someone will ask me where this is, and if asked privately, I'll tell. I have a few friends who know this area, and we seem to agree to be a little secretive as to this location.
I passed by an area where there was a lot of dumped trash--a particularly disgusting sight which is all to common in Oklahoma. You see odd things dumped in the woods, and this was no exception.
Driving home from Muskogee, for the second time in the past two weeks, I drove west on HWY 16 past Taft Lake. Two weeks ago, it was just past sunset--a sun that was unseen for the duration of the drizzly dismal dank dark day. I drove around the lake because it seemed to call to me, and I was hypnotized my the mysterious aura around the shoreline, but took no pictures.
But this day, about the same time, I was prepared. The skies were gray as they have been for so long. Muskogee had drizzle, and it seemed I would have a replay. I took a few pictures, but the mystique was just not there. So I cheated a little and changed a setting on my camera to take B/W pics.
I stopped near what I call the Hangman's poll,and got out of my truck to walk for a while. I do not know the history of this lake, and spent about an hour this evening trying to find something of particular interest. Nothing. Except that in 2005, a record 35 lb 15 oz channel catfish was caught by a Muskogee man.
This ladder over a fence led to the old earthen dam for this lake, the largest of three man-made lakes in the vicinity.
When was this lake built, and why? Perhaps it was a water supply to nearby Taft, an old mostly black community, with a population of 250. Taft once had a couple of businesses in it's short downtown(?) area, but those old buildings are mere shells of what they once were. Most are burned or torn down, and the remaining are vacant.
On the southern end of the lake, the well maintained road leads by what was once a small park area.
Old forgotten picnic tables are covered by graffiti and unruly weeds, but Winter has beat the weeds down for the tables and they'll live another season.
Taft is home to the Jess Dunn Correctional Facility, a minimum security prison. I did not take the picture below--it came from Google.
From a PDF published at www.ok.gov, I found this information on the prison.
"The Jess Dunn institution was originally constructed in 1930 and used as a mental hospital for black patients only. Through the years, the institution has been used as a tuberculosis sanitarium, a juvenile girl’s facility, and a juvenile co-ed home. In April 1980, the facility was transferred from the Department of Human Services to the Oklahoma Department of Corrections (ODOC). Jess Dunn Correctional Center is a minimum security facility located in Taft, Oklahoma."
"Jess Dunn served as warden of the Oklahoma State Penitentiary from 1938 to 1941. Dunn was killed in a shootout that resulted from an offender escape attempt on August 10, 1941. Also killed was a sheriff’s jailer (a former OSP officer) and 3 of the 4 offenders involved in the escape attempt. The remaining offender was later executed for Jess Dunn’s murder."
I have since found out that there are two geocaches at Taft Lake--both practically where I was standing taking pictures. There are also no less than 18 geocaches along a 10 mile stretch of old Taft Road. Another blogpost....
There is a secret trail I know
with signs that said I should not go
But I'll tell you where it is. It's down a long winding dirt road, and then a turn on a road into the sun. A long climb leads to a turn where the road is smooth with the sun peeking between the trees.
"You there! Yes, you!! It is ok to come this way. There is still light enough before nightfall. Bring your camera and come!"
"You've come this far--won't you come around the corner, over the gate and beyond?"
"For here is the house where I once lived. Stories were warm, and food was plenty. But years have slid by, and timbers fallen."
"Times were spent upon this porch telling stories and singing songs of old. Listen, and you can still hear the lingering chorus in the breeze of the early autumn winds."
"Look not upon the shambles, the decaying wood, but admire the stone that stands strong."
"Come, there is another sight to see beyond the next wood."
"It's but a walk, but you may run."
"Over a hill and around a bend--not much further."
"For years my barn was full, but in this field now, it is home for an old owl and not much more. But you should go--the sun is setting and there are miles to go back to your world. But come again to this old road with no name. More stories are only a little further beyond the next grove of trees. I'll be here."
