11.09.2009,11:49 AM
Riding Tails of Trails: Part Two

I woke in the middle of the night to the pitter-patter of rain on the tent. Rather, on my face. Because of the warm muggy night, we didn't put the fly over the tent, opting for whatever breeze we could catch through the tent mesh. Sure enough, it rained. It rained some part of every day we were on the road, but it wasn't bad enough to interfere.

We both tumbled out in the dark in varying degrees of birthday suits and threw the fly on the tent. As soon as I was back in the bag, I was back asleep and dreaming of coyotes.

The morning dew was heavy and hung over the river like a thick cotton ball blanket. The bikes were dripping as if they had just left a sauna. My tongue was caught in my head and I had no voice that morning. Nods and grunts would have to do. Ed and I went exploring in different directions and the camera led me to a few nice spots of contemplation.

Everything was wet. Dewy wet. We procrastinated leaving, letting things dry out a bit, then resorted to the hidden rags in the 'other' exhaust on the Whee. After wiping things down and loading the bikes, we headed south again to Wilburton to locate food and feed.

There's not much to chose from in Wilburton, especially on a Sunday morning. We resorted to eating breakfast burritos at a gas station/convenience store. After two large cups of coffee, I was ready to head out.

We decided to go north. North to Cherokee country. What was once a large thriving community of Cherokee refugees and survivors was now a mixed bag of cultures. Thanks to Mr. Dawes. After visiting some of their homeland in Tennessee, now was my opportunity to visit their new 'home'.

We headed north on Oklahoma's Hwy 2, cutting through forests and farm land, heading up to I-40. A short jaunt east was just enough to circumvent the toll highway and exit onto Hwy 82 that leads north to Talequah.

Just north of the exit onto Hwy 82 is a sleepy but alive little town of Vian. There, you can stand in front of portals and go back into time. And, if so inclined, stay back there, too.

Several murals adorn the building walls. If you stand in front of them, you can almost imagine yourself stepping through and into them. As if they were portals back through time. Or into stories.

I really enjoy these snapshots of stories: life as it was then, mythical and legendary stories, portrayals of how we live now, and how they may have lived then. Each presents its own connection in some way. It brings to life that which might lurk in the shadows, stories that may have gone untold, comments on life and people, then and now. We look at the past with eyes from the future, and mix it all into that which is the present. They all represent things that we might have never heard, read or known. Until we see them and listen with our eyes.

Even Wylie delighted in them.

Hey, I know that one!!!

After watering our selves, including pouring some water over myself, we saddled up and headed north again.

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posted by Macrobe
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