Oklahoma City

As I said in my previous post, this part of our road trip was not as enjoyable as some of the more spectacular places we visited.  It was hot - close to ninety degrees - and humid, conditions we had not experienced at all out west.  Once again we kept seeing depressing sights in this desolate, flat country:  abandoned buildings, abandoned towns, abandoned hopes.

 

There were fields full of cattle, though, and more than anywhere else we had seen, windmills everywhere, hundreds of them slowly somersaulting, reaping the power of the wind.

 

We arrived in Oklahoma City late in the afternoon and made our way through city traffic to the Bricktown area, where we had stayed on our trip through here in 2016.  I remembered an early-morning run along the canal at the time, but it sounded like the area had gotten even better since then:

 

“Industrial-chic Bricktown is a lively entertainment district, with repurposed warehouse spaces home to restaurants, piano lounges, and chic wine bars. An eclectic mix of shops sell clothing, home décor, and specialty food items like gourmet condiments and handmade chocolate. The Bricktown Water Taxi takes riders along the Bricktown Canal for tours and dinner cruises.”

 

The Water Taxi sounded like fun.  We had a light dinner at an outside table at the Bourbon Street Café, which was right on the canal.

 

Then we found the Water Taxi.  The young lady steering the taxi took us along the canal and talked a little about what we were seeing and the revitalization of the city in recent years.  

 

I remembered the Oklahoma City bombing in 1995 and the devastation it had caused to the city.  It was the deadliest act of terrorism in the country until the September 11 attacks in 2001.  It had killed 168 people, injured 680, and destroyed or damaged 324 buildings within a 16-block radius, shattered glass in 258 buildings, and destroyed 86 cars, causing an estimated $652 million worth of damage.  Oklahoma City really was a success story, a Phoenix reborn from the ashes of that terrible day.

 

Our pilot was very entertaining, and toward the end of the cruise she played that famous song from the Oscar Hammerstein musical:

 

“Ooooooo-klahoma,
Where the wind comes sweepin' down the plain
And the wavin' wheat
Can sure smell sweet
When the wind comes right behind the rain.”

 

Our hotel for the night was one of the most interesting ones on this road trip, the Monastery at Forest Lake, a former monastery converted years ago to a bed and breakfast and located in a rambling building on the shores of a small lake. 

 

There were deer grazing on the opposite shore and ducks paddling out in the water.  It was as peaceful as one imagines a monastery should be. 

 

We found out from the owner, sadly, that we would be the last guests ever to stay in this bed and breakfast.  It had been converted to an Airbnb, and there was already remodeling and painting underway.  Had we not made our reservation months ago, we would not have been able to stay there.  There was a kitchen and a big living room just outside our room, and a game room with a full-size pool table (we played a few games).  And except for the owners, we had the place all to ourselves.