Goodbye!

I'm going to start blogging again, but over here. The focus will be more on documenting cool outdoor adventures and photography. The title of this blog doesn't really fit with the direction I'm going in, as I hardly ever seem to blog about bikes or beer.

Another snow day #SaveTurkeyMountain

Pipe dreams #SaveTurkeyMountain

I usually start out my runs with a problem to solve: how to be better at my job, what Paul really meant in Romans 8, how I'm going to train for an upcoming race, etc. But the mountain has a way of draining our minds of the concerns we bring with us. Within minutes on the trail, I've lost my train of thought and the day dreaming begins.

Turkey Mountain is a place where the imagination can run wild. Some dreams are more fanciful than others, but I've learned to just roll with it.

I might imagine what this same view was like fifty or a hundred years ago. Did the murderer of  Charles W. Estes stand at this very spot before he returned to his hideout, contemplating his next move?

After following these tracks for awhile, I imagine a young couple on fatbikes led by a golden retriever. As most Tulsan's take shelter from the cold and ice, these recent transplants from Minnesota revel in conditions that they (and the bikes) were bred for.

A mysterious pipe sticking out of a hillside? Crazy Tom lives down there. Maybe he's a Gulf War veteran that has sworn off the ways of civilization. Tom reads Shakespeare by the stove in his underground bunker and comes out at night to hunt possum and squirrel. He could tell you some stories..if you ever managed to locate the hidden entrance.

Inevitably, I try to imagine what it would be like if the people of Tulsa recognized the treasure that is Turkey Mountain. What if we did everything we could to preserve the place as a sanctuary where all generations could come to find rest, refreshment, and a little day dreaming?

A dead river

The Arkansas River isn't much of a river this time of year. Last Wednesday was the worst I've seen it; scattered puddles with no discernible movement at all. It's eerie to walk out on the flat rocks that form the river's bed, the same bed I've seen carry over 50,000 cubic feet if water per second, and not hear the slightest trickle. 

By yesterday, running water had returned. Both pics were taken from the bottom of the access ramp by the pedestrian bridge.

Tuesday morning run

 I braved the cold and wind to greet the sun, a rare sight in this gray winter.

Redbud Valley Nature Preserve

A work errand brought me to Northeast Tulsa last week, and used it as an excuse to visit the Redbud Valley Nature Preserve in Catoosa. A stopped train just South of the preserve sent me on a long detour through narrow winding roads more reminiscent of West Virginia than the greater Tulsa area. I finally arrived at the parking area with about 45 minutes until closing time.

I can't believe it took me four years to get there. The place is a little gem, snuggled between a local creek and some bluffs. I followed the trail that skirts the limestone bluffs, sometimes passing underneath sizable overhangs. There are even a few caves, but they have the deeper ones blocked off with bars. I hope to return for a longer visit soon.

Pics taken with my Canon S100.