We also have RENTERS Insurance

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The only real drawback with this glorious trip is that you’ll need to bring lunch if you’re a McDonald’s fan because except for the Sonic in Cordell, there ain’t no major fast fooders until you get way back to civilization in Chickasha. But, on the other hand, you’ll find everyone waves to you along this route. State highway 37 has some cliff faces with natural Indian campgrounds all along the way when you first get out of town. Cotton-tails grazing for a last bite of supper are turning reluctantly towards the home burrow, while ready-for-breakfast red-tailed hawks spiral in the first hint of morning breeze. The occasional possum-on-a-half-shell (known as Armadillo) will try to scurry across the road in front of you like chickens. You will see dozens of them splattered by other drivers. Armadillo are those amazing armored creatures Texas is exporting to us by the thousands. It’s no wonder Texas is trying to get rid of them; the only way to describe these ugly critters is to say they look like a cross between a turtle and a rhinoceros with beady eyes thrown in and horns rotted off. They are a burrowing animal, preferring good ditch banks or firm house foundations to dig through. A real rarity in the animal kingdom, they have up to four young in each litter, all of which have identical genes. They are also the only animal known at this time with the ability to contract leprosy. That means that scientists in the medical field are fastening their beady eyes on the armadillo in hopes of finding a cure for this biblical disease. Even with a two month long season on their feathers, doves and quail are sprinkled profusely along the way. Altus, just south of where we pick up state highway 19, is known for having some of the best quail hunting in the U.S. Ducks and geese are common residents in this region too. The flash of striking kingfishers startled us every time we passed ponds or lakes.

Buffalo Have Quit Roaming
They Are Pastured now

Bare rocks are covered with lichen. The trees appear to be almost stunted save for the majestic cottonwood. The homes along this route are priced in the $80 to $120k range with choice mansions decorating sloping hills. Herds of buffalo appear on your left, shockingly enough contained with simple barbed wire fences. The Beefalo we tried raising back in 1990 couldn’t be kept in their place with heavy gauge sucker-rod fences. No wonder then, I kept looking back, shaking my head; is civilization taming wild animals too? Like cattle around here, these buffalo were fat and sassy.  They aren't roaming any more, they are going nowhere. All they want out of life is more. Every time we crested a hill I would wonder where the Indians were. It was an uneasy feeling to know the whole Kiowa nation could hide behind any one of those hills. These same hills are probably one reason this glinting tour route is also popular for bicycle tours, hiking, hunting, fishing (Paul Hollister caught a 23 pound, 4 oz, hybrid striped bass on Lake Altus to set a world record), camping, backpacking, and bald eagle watches. The farm equipment I saw most of along highway 152 was John Deere tractors and New Holland round balers , with an occasional Case and Caterpillar loader thrown in for variety. Massey Ferguson tractors take over the farm scenery the closer you get to Cordell. As we approached the town of Cordell the county courthouse jumped out at us; the clock even tells time at top. The people were so nice and friendly that we cruised around to see the sites. The New Cordell Courthouse Square National Historic District contains most of the town’s earliest commercial buildings from the turn of the century. The town square is one of the last you’ll see in Oklahoma. Every October the community holds their annual Pumpkin Festival with a hearty pumpkin pancake breakfast. The most exciting event is the Great Pumpkin Bed Race. Cordell is found on the web at Out of Cordell we took US 183 south and turned WEST on highway 9, going through Lone Wolf and turning SOUTH on state highway 44. This stretch will give you miles and miles of peaceful fields, and little traffic. The one trooper we saw waved us on with a tired hand. Country roads dart off to either side, straight as an arrow. Hawks are plentiful. We even saw two scissor-tail flycatchers just outside of Lone Wolf. Spring butterflies were so thick they sometimes looked like flowers floating up off the earth.

State highway 44 and then 44-A led us into the Quartz Mountain State Park. Ms. Hobaskan was the first person we met there. Dark haired, maybe 5'6", she walks with a limp which she acquired while riding a motorcycle in Arabia. She is one of the only two naturalists employed by the state west of I-35. (There are only eleven naturalists employed by the state altogether though more were planned to be accepted) Ms. Hobaskan was friendly, helpful and most importantly, fun to be with. She knew just what to do when the full-grown 8 point buck sauntered up to the front window of the main office and rapped his antlers on the door to get admitted. There are several touch tables inside where hides, informative plaques and interactive modules bring the area to life. A little souvenir shop is there too with moderately priced items to tip the heart towards the cash register. Outside, trees with rock walls are set out to divide up the roads. The New Horizons Trail at Quartz Mountain is gentle enough for little kids to climb if they watch it but is definitely not there for the handicapped to enjoy. These little mountains are just the right size for Sunday hikers hot off the potato couch. How beautiful the sloping rocks tumbled so precariously as to look dangerous. Most of them are covered with several kinds of lichen. 30 years ago I’d have paid good money to get lost in mountains like these. With any good luck at all I know I would have still been looking for a way out. Cactus can grab the attention of the unwary at any moment. Wild flowers spring up wherever roots can establish a foothold. The edge of the lake looks and feels like the ocean except the sand is almost flour, it is so fine. Wind whistles across the waves. A trout license is required for catching that imported game fish. If you’re lucky enough to be there when their dinner bell rings, eagles crash into the water with explosions like thunder, coming forth seconds later with a fish firmly clutched in a curling talon. Remember, eagles on the ground are not to be messed with when approached at feeding time; you either treat them like royalty or expect to have some of your more delicate parts added to their buffet table. Yucca (or commonly known as soapweed because you can make soap out of leaves to wash you hair) thrives in the lake beach area. Trees are hardy. Off away from the lake the mesquite thickets dominate as thick as any you’ll find in Texas. The little cabins are nice, homey affairs and priced low even for Oklahoma. Pavillions for family events are only $20 per day Their new lodge here was finished in October, five months ahead of schedule. I found the Quartz mountain Grocery Store is staffed with just the nicest people you’d ever want to meet. Yes. They did bribe me with low-priced ice cream treats to say that, but it is still true. Playgrounds are providently found all over and in constant use. I noticed one Put your face in the picture booth. In ranging the area I found crystal clear streams and rocks worth taking home. This is good ground for a herpetologist. Rattlesnakes are so thick they get rounded up annually at Mangoon. Traffic was light as we left state highway 6 and headed for home on state highway 19 with the afternoon sun behind our ears. The rolling hills were small and dainty. Scores of abandoned houses have been left to sag to death one section at a time beside the road. Virtually every farm or ranch still in operation had their name above the gate in wrought iron. There is a rock quarry just off the road. Wheat fields had the berries just turning to the milk stage as we drove through. Contour farming but without the levees is the favorite way of raising crops here. Many and many a windmill was still cranking. Some boys were splashing in the tank of one, trying their level best to make me homesick by ignoring me completely. The drotted low-down, left-handed so-and-sos that wouldn’t invite me over! I know they saw me standing there at the fence. Even in our worst droughts, ponds are everywhere in this region. Unfortunately, there are tons of trees dotting the fence posts with friendly Keep Out symbols painted on them. The Wichita Mountains are on your right, almost looking majestic with the sun just right. You’ll want to drive slowly through the town of Apache. It is plumb full of fascinating architecture, and especially challenging, high-sloped roofs. Don’t speed up going through the town of Cement either. I got my camera out to take pictures 20 years back in the past as we went through. You’ll want to leave state highway 19 for state highway 92 in order to get the best view of Chickasha God ever made. Farms, tractors, trucks, ranches, cattle, horses, even goats are lined up for your review, thick as fleas on a dog’s hind leg. There’s a good junk yard off to your left as you get into town. I saw parts of everything I remember ever driving, working or riding in there, and many a thingamajig that I never heard of. Give the feller that owns that place just a tad more imagination and he’ll be calling it a museum. Immediately after that you are back in civilization as you come rolling into Chickasha proper. Be sure to look on your right for the fascinating display of antique tractors. It surely looks like Chickasha is Hesston and Massey Case Ferguson country. Civilization means Sonic, and McDonald’s, not to mention Brown’s, Carl Jr.’s, Pizza Hut, Taco Bell, Munchily Pizza, KFC, Mazzio’s, Long John Silver’s, and Subway. Other names you never heard of look more tempting than any house brand imported from Texas. Stay on state highway 92 and you’ll spot some beautiful train stations right in the middle of town. Like I said, if you’re running late you can escape down the toll road of US44 and head for home. But if the sun is still up at all, rake in the gold by staying on state highway 92 out of Chickasha. That fuzzy glint of the evening sun on green wheat as you leave Chickasha is worth the whole trip. At first there is a double wide lane highway. Prosperous country homes rise up like pouter pigeons on every side. Then the road turns back to a wide two lane. You’ll see working oil wells at Cenert. Just outside of Cenert on right is odd rock formation, precarious perched, whittled by the wind. The pulsing beauty continues as you follow 92 up past Amber to Tuttle, and take state highway 37 back into the Oklahoma City Metro area. The heart is alive though the eye may be tired as you come back in. Ain’t no prettier time of day anywhere on earth than when the sun is riding low and the wind dies down for the night. Golden rays of burnished light clings to trees and grass. The day takes a long deep breath before handing the world over to night life just as the red-tailed hawk comes spiraling home.