Thursday, October 7, 1999: Osage Hills State Park
Roger and Lila dropped me off today in Pawhuska, OK, at the pay phone where I called them for help in June. I am camping at Osage Hills State Park between Pawhuska and Bartlesville tonight. The route I had planned for my walk to Bartlesville tomorrow has changed due to the information I received from a very nice park ranger named Mike. After talking with Mike for a while, he told me that the guy who owns the land just south of the park is "wound a little tight," as he put it. That didn't sound like such a big problem to me, since I am fairly used to walking through places where a paranoid land owner might not want me walking through. But Mike went on to add that he has had to call the sheriff on several occasions because this particular tightly wound guy has aimed his gun at hikers that have crossed the park's boundary onto his property. That sounded like a problem, and like I said, I've decided to go a different way.
Park Ranger Mike is one of the nicest guys you could ever possibly meet. He kept telling me if I needed anything, just to let him know. He photocopied a map for me that showed all of the area's back roads in more detail. I asked him how much it would cost to camp at the park, and he told me it was seven dollars but scratched his head and said, "I'm trying to find a democratic way of telling you I'm not going to charge you." When I thanked him and told him that he had been very helpful, he said, "There's no reason not to be." And you know, he's right.
I've set up my tent, and now I am sitting here cooking Stove Top Stuffing with a can of tuna and healthy amount of Tobasco sauce. I am finally on the road again and about to enjoy the old familiar walking cuisine. It has been a long time; yes, indeed, it has.
It is starting to sink in that today I am an unemployed, homeless man again. Why does saying that always make me smile? I really do feel a definite amount of freedom from the fact. It reminds me of the feeling I had two days ago when I sold my 1975 Buick. To me, it didn't feel so much like I was losing a practical form of transportation as much as I was being freed from something that confined me, something that had the ability to imprison me with a need to find work because my transmission fell out or I needed new brakes. Of course, I need my car to run so I can get to work, and the circle goes on and on. The bottom line is when I don't have a home, a job, or a car, life becomes simple, and in that simplicity I find peace. This lifestyle is not for everyone I know, but for now, it is for me.
Friday, October 8, 1999: Bartlesville
I woke up this morning, made some coffee, and had started typing an e-mail on this mobile device that I carry now, when a guy drove in and began to set up his enormous RV in the campsite next to mine. I wasn't too excited about the idea of someone disrupting the beginning of a very peaceful morning for me, but that is just the nature of my self-seeking brain sometimes. It would have cost me the opportunity to meet such a nice person if I had stayed in that mental space, but he said hello, and I put down my mobile e-mail device and went outside to meet him.
His name was Kevin, and he reminded me of how often I meet good people everywhere I go. We talked for a bit, and he showed me the inside of his RV. It was incredible. I've never seen anything like it--a livingroom, kitchen, two bed rooms, a bathroom with a shower, central air-conditioning, heat, and a television, all on wheels! I packed up my gear, and we drove up to a scenic overlook, took a drive around the park, and a took a short hike to some waterfalls. Then we had lunch and talked a while longer. When Kevin drove up this morning and parked his RV, I thought that this guy's presence was going to invade my morning, and this guy made my morning. It was a wonderful reminder for me to keep an open mind and to really see everyone as another person to meet.
I made it to Bartlesville around 6pm and called Rick, the captain of the reenacting unit that I had participated with in the spring. He wasn't home when I called, but moments later he drove into the gas station that I was calling from and brought me to his house. Rick and his family have opened their home to me, and I plan to use the time here to catch up on some much needed writing about what has happened in my life the past few months.
