2.09.2014

Bridgeport-Hinton-Wichita Mountains

There is a stone landmass that interrupts the flat Oklahoma landscape. The Wichita Mountains appear as a boulder island in the sea of Oklahoma prairie. We had plans to investigate them, but we also wanted to find out if there was in fact a ghost town, 12 miles from our cabin, called Bridgeport. 
I promptly led our merry band of thrill seekers past the road that we needed to turn onto; we rode on for about another 12 miles to the town of Hydro. Some folks inside a gas station understood where we were headed and provided me with a few navigation hints that would lead us back to Bridgeport. 
Out back onto Route 66 we rambled back to the road we needed.
About a mile we found signs of civilization that also included two living people who were shocked to find out that they were living in a ghost town...

Most of Bridgeport was like a ghost town...
Satisfied, we left Bridgeport intact and started our ride down to the Wichita Mountain Refuge. For some reason, namely hunger, we stopped in the town of Hinton. I consulted with a lady at a local grocery store who provided me with the name of a local cafe that we should eat at and one that we should not; we ended up eating at the one she suggested that we should not patronize...
...because we were living in the 'Fast Lane,' we stimulated their economy and gave the staff and locals p-l-e-n-t-y to talk about.
We dined like kings on fresh creations from the grill and deep fryer. We got our act together and rolled on down south to the mountains...
Ole Girl's GPS did not let us down as we rode further south into the heart of Oklahoma; soon we could see the mountains...
Our steads needed to be watered and so did their riders; we stopped here before venturing into the mountains...
The clerk was fearful for our safety when we told her we were headed into the mountains; this gave me pause as she reported that the road to the mountain top was fraught with danger. Outside a strange woman arrived in a car and started a conversation with Ken specifically if he was interested in buying some gold jewelry. Ken being the wise southern gentleman that he is declined. JT was swarmed by some foreign exchange students who wanted to have their picture taken with him-he is a rock star (think ZZ Top)...The driver of the exchange students wanted directions to where we were going, as if I really 'knew'-I did my best, and we all quickly left!
Riding into the refuge, we were welcomed by the wildlife...

The ranger at the visitor center assured us that we would be fine riding up to the top of Mount Scott, elevation 2,464 feet.


the top...






For me, this was one of the best highlights of the day and of the trip! We all lived to tell the tale, and the wise-guy in me wanted to go back to the gas station and let the clerk know that Mt. Scott is safe! The mid-afternoon persuaded us to leave. We wanted to stop by Wind River Harley-Davidson to see if they perhaps had a take-off part for Wes' machine since his shifter was attached with a hair scrunchy...
...excellent improvising!
Rumbling down Mt. Scott, I reflected on how enjoyable the day and overall trip had been. JT used his excellent rock star/people skills and procured the part Wes was in need of. A chat with another employee led us to a soul food joint where we expanded out minds and bellies!
The ride back to camp was pleasant; the heat of the day was being replaced by the nicer temperatures of the early evening sunset. Our last order of business was to stop at a Braum's for ice cream. I don't remember what Oklahoman told us about this institution, but we finally decided that we would stop at the next one we saw! I think it was in Anadarko. My wicked sweet tooth was satisfied most righteously.  My com-padres were enjoying their frozen delights just as much as me!
The ride home was sweet like our ice cream...





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